#i'm going to be fine! about this show! i can tell!

[xoxoavenger]

Coward

pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Reader

summary: Luke goes out of his way to prove to Annabeth he's not a coward (requested by messages for my birthday celebration but I changed the request a lil bit)

word count: 595

warnings: sooo much fluff

birthday celebration (even tho my birthday was a couple days ago) main masterlist

Luke's pretty sure there's something wrong with him.

"There's something wrong with you." Annabeth says as she stands next to him. He flinches with the bow in his arms, the arrow hitting the hay next to the target. He puts it down and turns to her, frowning.

"Please, bestow upon me your wisdom." He snarks, even though he had just been thinking the same thing. He knows that Annabeth knows he's lying, but he would rather shoot himself in the foot than admit his problem.

"Really, Luke?" She has her arms crossed, and the two stare each other down in silence as everyone begins to leave. Neither speaks until everyone has begun the trek to the pavilion.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Luke lies, copying her stance.

"Come on!" Annabeth cries, outraged at her brother's stubbornness. "She likes you back, so why are you being such a coward?" They begin to walk to the pavilion for dinner at a slow pace so they can talk.

"Oh my gods." Luke rolls his eyes, annoyed now that he's being called a coward. "We don't know that she likes me, first of all, and even if we did know that she liked me, we don't know if she wants a relationship."

"Luke," Annabeth groans, resisting the urge to run a hand down her face.

"Annabeth, I don't want to talk about this." Luke is starting to get peeved as well, and this conversation is clearly getting nowhere.

"Because you're a coward." Annabeth teases, and Luke thinks he may explode.

"I am not a coward." He seethes as they come up to the pavilion. Annabeth just won't let it go, however.

"Really? Because refusing to ask out a girl that clearly likes you seems pretty cowardly to me." Annabeth knows what she's doing, but Luke is too angry to see through her plan.

"Fine!" Luke explodes, turning to her. "You think I'm a coward? Would a coward do this?" He stomps toward Y/N's table, where her back is to him. He's a little amped up, his heart racing, so he feels smooth as he leans on the table in between her and her sibling.

"Luke?" She mutters, shocked that he was suddenly right next to her. Their faces were right next each other, and her heart was racing with the proximity.

"Y/N," He smiles, and she melts just a little bit. "I was wondering if you wanted to go to the beach with me after dinner?" In the moment were they're just staring at each other he starts to lose his nerve. Maybe he is cowardly.

"I'd love to." She answers quietly, feeling her cheeks heat up. He nods, winks, then leaves, listening to her siblings start to gush over the interaction.

"Think I solved your problem." Annabeth is smirking smugly as he walks past her, and he pauses as he realizes that her plan all along had been to push him hard enough to finally ask Y/N out.

"You conniving little-"

"You asked her out, didn't you?" She still looks just so happy, and if Luke wasn't also happy from his upcoming date he would probably tell her to meet him at the sparring mats.

"Told you I'm not a coward." He says, getting in line for food.

"Yeah, you really showed me." Annabeth can't herself, and Luke just takes a deep breath, because he loves his sister. "Except really, I'm the one who showed you."

Luke may have to throw Annabeth into the ocean before he goes on his date. Just to prove he's not a coward.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader fluff #luke castellan fluff

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 4: Wound Tending/First Aid

After Dew cuts his finger on stage, Aether takes care of him.

Content warnings for blood and mentions of injuries

Mushy May put together by the wonderful @forlorn-crows <3

Divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

Aether smells it before he sees it. He's unmuzzled, unlike some of his pack, so despite his human glamour dulling his ghoulish senses, he can almost taste the thick, cloying scent of blood. He keeps playing, just barely stumbling over a chord, his eyes darting across the stage at his Papa, scanning, searching.

Papa's fine. Still singing, commanding the attention of the screaming crowd with out a hitch. Aether redirects his gaze, looking for the source of the blood.

His eyes lock on it, smears of color against an otherwise pristine white Stratocaster, and his heart drops into his gut. His mate is bleeding. It takes everything Aether's got to keep his cool and not storm across the stage to the fire ghoul.

Dew, in his defense, has not faltered; his scent hasn't changed, still riding on the excitement and adrenaline of performance. Still, Aether keeps an eye on him, watches as that guitar gets redder and redder, dripping from the fingers of his picking hand.

He'd be more worried about the bleeding not stopping if Dew were human, but they're ghouls. If anything, the bleeding has only riled him up.

The rest of the show, thankfully, goes off without a hitch. After bows, Dew steps off to stage left as Aether goes right, watching out of the corner of his eye as Dew hands his bloody guitar to his human tech, the man wide eyed at the state of his hand and the guitar. But Dew brushes right past him, and Aether quickly goes through the motions with his own tech, chasing after his mate backstage.

Dew's halfway to the dressing room when he intercepts him. "Darling," Aether says, his hand wrapping around his skinny wrist. The sleeve of his compression shirt is soaked through, with blood or sweat Aether can't quite tell.

"'M fine, Aether," Dew snaps, voice exhausted and tinging on a growl.

Aether doesn't flinch. "Listen to me, Dew," he says, not unkindly, straightening to his full height. Dew tenses, eyes locked onto Aether's. "You really think it's a good idea to walk right into a room with Rain and Sunshine while you're still bleeding?"

They're both still masked, but Aether knows Dew's rolling his eyes. His wrist is still locked in the circle of his grip. "I can deal with Rain and Sunny, Aeth. I'm fine, lemme go. I wanna get changed and get on the bus."

Aether's fingers twitch around Dew's wrist. The air, now that Dew's no less than a foot and a half away, the smell of blood is overpowering. "Dewdrop. I have been watching you bleed all night, unable to do anything about it. Ask for it and I will help you, love, but I don't want you to go in there without stopping the bleeding. I love Rain, and I love Sunny, but I love you."

Dew lets out a huff of breath from his nostrils, the steam catching in the low light. "I'm a grown ghoul, Aether," he snarls, but it's weak, and Aether knows him well enough to practically see the way he's clinging to that persona, the stoic shell that gets pulled up over his soft spots. Aether reaches up with his free hand and brushes his fingers over the side of Dew's helmet, as if tucking a long strand of hair behind a pointed ear.

"I know, darling," he hums, eyes tender. "I know. I just don't like seeing you hurt. Let me help you?"

Through the lenses of his own mask, Aether can see the way Dew's unglamoured, copper eyes soften, the fire ghoul leaning ever so slightly into his touch as he nods slowly, almost imperceptibly. Aether can feel the adrenaline starting to falter, even through the hard plastic of the mask. The crash is barreling towards Dew like a train, and Aether pulls them into one of the venue's unused dressing rooms, locking the door behind them.

Aether takes his mask off, and Dew follows suit, collapsing down onto an old threadbare couch as he pulls his balaclava down. Aether finds paper towel in the bathroom, and a first aid kit under the sink. He sits down next to Dew.

The fire ghoul's examining the cut on his finger, still bleeding, but sluggishly. He glances up as Aether sits down. "You gonna patch me up, Doctor Aether?" He asks, but the snark is fading, revealing sheer sincerity.

Aether's lip crooks up in a smile. "I am, darling. Gimme your hand?"

He does so without hesitation, trusting completely, and Aether meets his eye, kissing his knuckles before examining the cut himself. A string sliced into his pinkie on stage, and Aether hisses in sympathy.

"I barely felt it," Dew says, exhaustion seeping into his voice. "Think I got sweat in it. Fuckin' stings now."

"I bet," Aether says. He cleans the blood from his mate's hand with damp paper towel. "It looks nasty."

"Kept playing though," Dew shrugs with his other arm. Aether glances up at him, amethyst to copper. "The fans ate it up."

"If I couldn't smell it, I think I would have known when I heard it," Aether says as he reaches into the first aid kit for gauze and medical tape "Proud of you for sticking it through."

Dew makes a noise between a laugh and a scoff as Aether presses a wad of gauze to the cut. "What else was I supposed to do? Up and leave?"

"You've got me there," he hums. They're so close that Aether can feel the familiar, comforting heat radiating from Dew's body, the fire that burns at the very core of him. Dew shifts his weight, the springs of the couch squeaking in protest.

They fall into a comfortable silence as Aether works, ripping a strip of medical tape to secure the gauze to his finger. Dew watches, narrow chest rising and falling as Aether shuts the first aid kit, examining his work.

"There we go," Aether hums, tipping his head back and taking a deep breath, all of the worry hitting him as his own adrenaline starts to crash. "Should be good to meet up with the pack, 'm sure Swiss is wo-"

He cuts himself off as spindly fingers wrap around his wrist, grip tight. "Think you're missing something, starshine."

Aether cocks his head, brows furrowing tight as he does another once over on his mate. His hands come up to cup his face, thumbing over sharp cheekbones. "Are you hurt somewhere else? What am I missing, darling?"

Dew sighs, but he's smiling, relaxing into Aether's touch. "Starshine, I'm okay." He raises his hand, waggling his fingers in front of Aether's nose. "Come on, gimme a little somethin' somethin'."

"Oh," Aether laughs, taking Dew's hand in his and kissing the back of it. A little spark of quintessence jumps between them, just enough to kickstart the healing process. "Let me kiss it better, darling."

Dew laughs, smiling fondly at his quintessence ghoul. "Alright, Doctor Aether, can we go change, or do you think Rain and Sunny will still jump me?"

Aether stands, taking Dew's hands to help him up. "Let's go get changed. I'm sure the others are worried about where we ran off to."

Dew snorts, tucking himself against Aether's side. "I think they think we found a dark closet and sucked face for half an hour."

Aether cackles as he puts his mask back on.

"Aether?" Dew asks as he does the same.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you, for taking care of me." The fire ghoul's eyes are soft and earnest, shining through the lenses.

"Any time."

#the bloody guitar is still ping-ponging around my brain fyi lmao #i wrote most of this one by hand and my pen broke and i got ink absolutely everywhere #it was bad lol #dot's writing #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #dewther #aether/dewdrop #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #mushy may 2024 #cw blood

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

So uh...I know the odds of this happening is slim to none, but I figure I'll shoot my shot: the Creator having a little one, who is sporting a small diamond marking on their forehead? (Xiao, it's Xiao as the dad.) And for fun: Venti somehow gets blamed for this! :D

Tsarita: The Yaksha has an Anemo Vision. Of course someone who uses the element of Barbatos would be so forward as to try something with the Creator!

Venti: I DID NOTHING, WHY AM I BEING BLAMED?!

A forever diamond

WC: ~600

Cw: Raiden is alloyist 😔

Imagine if this happened close to cloud retainer and she just side eyes Xiao like "this one is impressed the conqueror of demons has, what the younger generations call, rizz"

Xuezhui’s birthdays are a whole event for liyue, somewhat of an unofficial holiday, people are often given half day or the whole day to roam the streets, different vendors setting stalls with food and trinkets.

A room would get rented in the xinyue salon and the seven stars and the archons would accompany for lunch and a small dessert for the toddler.

As you finish eating and leave Xuezhui on the floor she starts running to a small group of children, zhongli trailing behind her so you could finish your conversation with keqing.

Regal as when he was an archon zhongli stands a few meters away from the little group of children playing tag. Sometimes he can't help but let himself drift in his thoughts, Xuezhui is so similar to Xiao when he rescued him, even when only a handful of people remember that day he can see it as clear as day. Could Xiao have spent his younger life as carefree as this little girl?

Suddenly he is snapped from his daydream by a scream and sobbing.

“What is it, little one?” zhongli leans forward where xuezhui was seated crying, some of her friends surrounding her. He saw her fall while chasing each other but it didn't seem hard enough for her to not keep playing.

“It hurrrttss” her hands clasped on her forehead, tear clouding her eyes.

“Let me see” softly he pries her hands away, expecting to see some flushed skin, maybe a bruise or some blood but it was neither of those, rather it was a small purple diamond “...interesting”

“What happened over here?” Quickly you walk towards them, worried about the soft sniffles and suddenly falling to the floor. She makes grabby hands so you perch her on your hip, smoothing her hair.

“Someone can't refuse her inheritance for too long” he taps between his brows, letting you know. Swiftly you move her bangs, showing a small diamond just under her hairline.

“I thought it was make up”

“it would make sense with his depressive persona but as you already know adepti have no need for vision and merely wear one to comply with human expectations,” he picks something up from the floor, a small golden plate before placing it on the silk in the back of her dress “on the contrary, half adeptus like Ganyu need a vision to canalize elemental energy yet can use adeptal features to hone their abilities”

“I can barely manage her as it's, don't tell me that was a vision”

His hand falls on your shoulder, a stiff smile trying not to laugh at you “I would invest in fire insurance”

Seemingly your defeated face was very visible, even from a few meters away, or you took a fair amount of time, as some archon and Ningguang were approaching you.

“Is anything wrong I could help with?” Ningguang speaks first, wandering what might have happened.

“Xuezhui fell, just a small nick on the forehead” zhongli snickers behind you.

“if she hurt herself I'm sure Dr Baizhu wouldn't mind checking her up quickly” she attempts to check her but you change her to the other side, attempting to hide her mark.

“She is fine, she just got scared and is a bit cuddly”

“oh, what a shame, I wanted to try her beloved almond tofu but if she is so stuck with you we will have to leave it for another occasion”

“Almond tofu! Let's go” she jumps out of your arms and jumps towards Raiden, who notices instantly the soft purple diamond “mmh, what is this?” she swipes her thumb over it but it doesn't smudge, the edges perfectly neat.

“Who does that remind me of?” Venti taps his chin.

“the vigilant yaksha?...” Ningguang mumbles under her breath. She did know he took the role of your bodyguard but never thought your relationship would be so more intimate

“So in the end it WAS your fault…”

“but he is from Liyue! It's Morax’s fault!”

“But he has an anemo vision”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“All anemo vision holders are libertine or lazy”

“Hey! That is alloyism!”

“who would have guessed this would work out nicely for me”

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #genshin x reader #self aware genshin impact #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #genshin xiao

[annwrites]

exactly what he needs, pt. 5 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | other parts here

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)

— summary: you have an unsettling exchange with cal, you spend the day with nate, then he takes you to a party with the express purpose of getting you drunk.

— tags: shopping with nate, learning to drive, partying, swimming

— tw: f receiving oral, humping nate's thigh in public, coerced intoxication, skinny dipping, reader touching nate's genitals at his suggestion while drunk, lying, dollification, guilt-tripping/emotional manipulation (sexual & otherwise), gas lighting, major invasion of privacy, sexual assault (reader is drunk and nate touches them in a sexual way, so i count it), love-bombing, vomiting, eating | there will not be a date rape in this after the party, i promise!

— word count: 15,729

— a/n: cal, during his convo w/ reader, isn't trying to be an asshole toward nate, he's trying to give her a genuine warning. the line 'he kills what he loves' i went back & added to try & i guess pull some kind of parallel between the two men, like when cal said 'i kill what i eat' on the show. bc i do think cal is capable of love. i think nate is only capable of obsession/infatuation, which is easy to mix up in the heat of the moment.

if nate seems different w/the reader than he does w/ cassie, it's bc he's obviously still hiding his true colors with reader.

the song I had in mind during the party is dangerous (oliver remix), which was indeed used during the show.

i hope reading this feels as ominous as it did writing it lmao.

When you wake in the middle of the night, it's with Nate's arm slung heavily over your abdomen, his hand hanging off the side of the bed.

You wiggle out from under him, still naked, before picking up his t-shirt and slipping it on before quietly unlocking his door and heading down to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Once you have it, you go to head back up to bed, until you hear his father calling to you from the living room, stopping you in your tracks.

You pad into the room, the light from the TV flickering against the dark which fills near every corner. "I was just getting a glass of water," you say, worried that he may think you were trying to steal from him in the middle of the night.

"Anything else you need?"

You shake your head, wishing you were wearing more than just a t-shirt right now. "I'm all set, thank you."

"Can I ask you something?"

You shift nervously as his eyes trail from your bare legs, back up to your face. "Sure."

"How is he? Nate?"

"What do you mean?"

He shrugs, glancing back to the TV. "He doesn't talk to me. Can't stand me, as I'm sure he's told you, or, at the very least, from what you can tell all on your own. I just want to know how he's doing." He looks at you again. "I assume he talks to you."

"If you mean in regards to you: no, he doesn't. You're the one thing he refuses to open up about. He...he seems fine, though. Most of the time, at least. He just seems to have this simmering-"

"Rage?" He finishes.

You nod. "I don't know if it stems from something that happened between the two of you, or if it's from however Maddy treated him, or something else." You glance down to the floor, then back up. "Maybe it's all of it. Maybe his life has just snowballed and he doesn't know how to deal with it. But you obviously care about him. So... I know what it's like to have an absent father." You pause. "I know it isn't my place, but...try to fix whatever is broken between the two of you before it's too late. Even if he hates you for it, he'll at least know you made that effort."

Cal grows quiet, for a long while, only the TV playing softly in the background. Then, "You're a smart girl, I can tell. Mature for your age. So, I'm going to give you a piece of advice." He leans forward. "Run. My son is not the guy for you. You can't fix him, and you can't help him. You can't give aid to a drowning man who chose to jump into the deep end in the first place.

"If you stay with him, he will ruin you. But I know you will anyway, despite this conversation. Maybe in spite of it. Just know that you're not the first, and you won't be the last." He leans back again. "No woman will ever make him happy, will ever live up to his perfect ideals of femininity. And, if they do, he'll fucking hate them for it. That anger he feels toward me? Give it time. You'll become the new punching bag. He kills what he loves"

You suddenly feel sick.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

You swallow, even if your mouth has now gone dry. "Goodnight, Mr. Jacobs," you say, turning away from him.

"Cal," he calls after you.

You turn your head back to look at him.

"Just Cal is fine."

You only nod before going back upstairs.

When you close Nate's door behind you, he's still asleep.

You lock it, then lean back against it, staring at him, your head spinning.

What the hell had just happened?

You watch Nate sleep, wanting to cry. But not for yourself. No. For him. He's only seventeen, and his own father is trying to drive away someone he's only just gotten together with.

You try to piece things together.

Nate dislikes him, of course. The incident in the kitchen had seemed a bit more aggressive than Cal just joking around with him.

So, maybe...maybe he's jealous? Jealous that his son is young and still has options, whereas, at his age, he's set in his ways. But that doesn't make sense, either. Cal is handsome, successful, wealthy, has—what seems like, at least—a lovely wife. Has two sons, who you're sure will both go far, given their dad's money, if nothing else. At least, in Nate's case, it will also be due to hard work and perseverance.

No wonder Nate hates this house so much, had been so eager to get you into his room and away from...him.

It'd been something in the way he had looked at you that had made your skin crawl. Like he could see everything under the thin t-shirt draped over your frame.

Then you wonder if that's true at all, or if Nate's disdain for him is just rubbing off, creating a perception of him that isn't even real.

You want to blame it all on being tired, but you can't just ignore what Cal had told you.

So you finally lie down next to Nate, his body quickly pulling your own against his—finding you even in his sleep—and you stare up at the ceiling.

You try to think back through every interaction you've had with Nate the last couple of weeks. Trying to find any blaring red flags.

This had all started out as a secret: the tutoring.

You wonder if you should've brought it up to his dad just to see his reaction. To see if it would even bother him. But, even if not, it's easy for children to be terrified of disappointing their parents so much so that they hide things that said parent would never even get upset over.

There'd been the Fezco story, which hadn't seemed quite right to you. Rue was a drug addict, a sad fact, but a fact nonetheless. However, she seemed to mostly mind her own business and keep to herself. She never seemed the kind to stir up pointless drama. So, why would she target Nate randomly?

You mentally file that away for further observation.

Then there was his dressing you and doing your hair, which still came off as a bit odd. But maybe it's just another way of him trying to show affection? And honestly...you kind of like it. Not in a sexual way, but in a way that makes you feel warm and looked after.

And it's less for you to have to worry about. At least if he's doing your hair, it saves you time and effort in fighting with it.

Him spending obscene amounts of money on you without your permission had been a bit much for your comfort levels, but as you look at him, your heart breaks.

He'd told you how with Maddy he'd done all he could to "get her to love him back". And you're sure that's what he's trying to do with you, because that's what she had taught him love is: financially transactional.

Honestly, you want to hold him just thinking about it.

What had happened to this poor, sweet boy to make him think that he alone isn't good enough?

From his father being cruel and overly-critical, to Maddy being emotionally and verbally abusive, to Cassie being controlling and possessive, he's done nothing but endure mistreatment after mistreatment from people that're supposed to love him and that he tried to love himself.

You stop trying to find something wrong with him then. Instead focusing on the good. Him giving you compliments, always getting the door for you, driving you places, taking you on dates, giving you sweet gifts, helping you with the groceries, opening up to you and you also doing as much with him...the list goes on.

You cuddle closer to his chest, thinking, as you drift off to sleep, that Maddy and Cassie have no idea what they've lost.

When Nate wakes the next morning, you're still asleep, pressed against his side. And as he lays there, looking down at you—you breathing softly—he says it for the first time in a quiet whisper.

"I love you."

You don't stir, even for a moment.

And he means it. Really means it this time.

Because he knows he's finally fucking done right by himself. He'd studied and observed and manipulated you for two weeks until finally getting you into his bed, and you'd played along beautifully. Backing down at every turn when he needed or wanted you to, letting him have control.

From choosing places you both went together, to ordering for you at the bistro, him choosing your clothes, doing your hair, driving you around, letting him touch you—even if you weren't entirely comfortable with it, but allowing it anyway because you knew it made him happy—to making yourself smaller and sweeter and more agreeable to him in his moments of anger and irritation... You were perfectly submissive and gentle and soft.

He'd only have to make a few more tweaks here and there and his work would be done. You'd be everything he's been waiting and looking for.

He lays back against the headboard, fingers dancing along the bare skin of your back—it'd only taken one evening to get you naked and spreading you legs for him in bed. And he didn't think less of you for it. If you'd been with anyone else before, he would, absolutely. But he'd seen the proof plain as fucking day while going down on you last night: you're still intact. No one else has touched you.

No, you'd done it because you were falling, whether you knew it or not. And because he had tons of experience over you. All you had known in that sweet, innocent little mind of yours was that you wanted more of what he was willing to give you. Because it felt so much better when it was coming from another person. From him.

He grabs his phone, scrolling through Instagram, checking his email, his texts, while he waits for you to wake up next to him.

When you wake, it's with your face pressed against Nate's side. It takes you a moment to realize he's already awake, sitting up.

You sit up as well, covering yourself with a dark blue sheet.

"Good morning," you say shyly.

He drops his phone onto his bedside table, giving you his full attention. "Morning, angel."

He leans forward, planting a soft kiss to your lips.

You reach up. "My hair is probably a mess," you say nervously.

He leans back. "You look perfect. But you can use the bathroom if you want."

You nod, standing, and Nate takes in your naked body before you slip on his t-shirt, walking into the bathroom.

Once you've relieved yourself, you brush your teeth, then gasp when you look in the mirror before starting on your hair.

You quickly open the bathroom door and Nate looks at you with a lazy look on his face.

"What did you do?" You ask, fingers reaching up to gently press against the dark purple bruise he'd left on your neck.

He smirks. "Oops."

Blood rushes to your face in embarrassment. "People will see this."

He shrugs. "Let 'em."

You cross your arms, feeling uncomfortable. "It...it looks trashy."

He sighs. "It looks like a hicky."

"Nate-"

He rolls his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So, what, did I fuck up last night, too? I thought you enjoyed it."

You withdraw into yourself. "N-no, you didn't. I did—enjoy it, I mean."

He lowers his hand, looking up to you with a hurt expression. "Do you regret it?"

You feel absolutely horrible.

You pad over to him, sitting down beside him, taking one of his hands in yours, the other coming up to cup his cheek. "No, of course not. I liked it...all of it. I'm sorry. I overreacted."

You wrap your arms around his neck, and his face quickly returns to normal as you hug him.

"I enjoyed it, Nate. That's the first time I've done anything. I'm glad it was with you." You whisper, pressing your body closer to his own.

He waits a moment, lets you sweat over a possibility of having truly hurt him, then you relax when his arms wind around you.

"If you don't want me to in the fut-"

You pull back. "No, I do." You don't really wanting to be walking around with love bites for all to see, but you'll just have to figure out a way to cover them up in the future.

You'd rather that than making him worry that you don't enjoy being intimate with him.

You press your lips to his. You look at him for a moment, giving him a soft smile before you stand, returning to the bathroom.

Once you've brushed your hair, and washed your face, you return to bed, sitting next to Nate.

You gingerly take one of his hands in your own.

“Are you hungry?” You ask.

He glances between your legs, then back into your eyes.

You blush, looking down. 

“Are you?”

You shrug. “I could eat.” You look at him again. “Do you want me to make you breakfast again?”

He slowly moves his hand up your thigh. He doesn’t like the idea of his dad seeing you like this. Bare from your thighs down—more-so uncomfortable because you have nothing on underneath the t-shirt you’re wearing, even if he wishes you hadn’t bothered with putting it back on in the first place.

He stands. “Let me see if I can find you a pair of shorts or something.”

“I thought you said nothing you have will fit?”

He doesn’t reply as he pulls a pair of drawstring basketball shorts out of his dresser, turning around to hand them to you. “Put these on.”

You stand, doing as instructed, cinching the waist. They still look ridiculously big, but they stay in-place.

“Good enough,” he says before pulling on a t-shirt and putting on his sweatpants from last night—before going to sleep he’d taken them off, only sleeping in his boxers. He typically sleeps naked, but knew doing so last night most likely wouldn’t have been a good idea. Perhaps after you stay over a few more times he’ll strip one night, letting you wake up to his naked body pressed against yours.

He takes your hand as the two of you exit his room and he leads you downstairs. 

You’d slept until nearly eleven, so the rest of the house is already up. He just hopes you sleeping so late isn’t a regular thing. But he understands that you’d exerted yourself a bit more than usual last night. He smirks at the thought.

Thankfully, the kitchen is empty when Nate leads you into it. 

You lean back against a counter. “What would you like to eat?”

He seats himself at the island. “Do you know how to make an omelette?”

You smile. “Yes.”

You go to the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs, some cheese, and you grab a bell pepper from a fruit bowl on the counter, setting it all down. 

You begin pulling open drawers, looking for a knife, a whisk, and a bowl, and Nate just watches with idle amusement at you familiarizing yourself with his kitchen. 

You and Nate eat side-by-side, his knee brushing against yours as he takes bites of his omelette. 

He swallows. “I know I said it before, but you really are a good fucking cook.”

You glance at him and smile. “Thank you.”

Once the two of you are finished, Nate helps you load the dishwasher. “What do you want to do today?”

You lean back against the counter again and he plants his palms flat on either side of you, caging you in. 

You grip the hem of his t-shirt. “I’m not sure.”

“I could take you shopping again?”

Your heart sinks. 

You reach up, gently touching your fingertips against his cheek. Your eyes have softened as you look into his own.

“I know we talked about it before, and that you said that’s not why you did it, but I don’t ever want you to think you have to buy my affection, Nate. And I know you also said you didn’t want to talk about them anymore, but I’m not Maddy. My feelings for you aren’t transactional. I’m with you for you. And I’ll never try to control you like Cassie.”

You briefly think back to your exchange with his father last night and that well of sadness you now feel for him deepens. You wrap your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his hair. “I just want you. Exactly as you are. You’re more than enough for me. Please don’t ever feel like you have to bend over backwards to make, or keep me happy. I’m just glad I finally have someone to talk to and spend time with; that I'm not alone anymore.”

Nate slowly wraps his arms around you as well, wondering what the hell had come over you. He doesn’t dislike it. No, the very opposite. He likes it when you’re soft and kind with him. Not because he needs it, but because your feminine personality, especially in moments like this, more than compliment his masculine one.

All he can think is: this is exactly how it’s supposed to be. You submissive and sweet, loving and caring. Cooking and cleaning and doing as you’re told, letting him—one man—teach you about sex and your own body. Letting him make your decisions for you, like what you can wear, how to do your hair—he plans to expand that list drastically as time goes on. Also letting him think for you in the future, he hopes.

His sob stories about Maddy and Cassie had worked, apparently. A few truths, a few lies, and you saw him as someone who’d been used and taken advantage of by evil women.

You saw him as a good man.

He doesn’t wish he were. He knows what he is. He just hopes he can keep you blind to that truth for awhile longer. At least until after the two of you have started having sex.

He presses his face into your hair. “I’m so glad I met you. Even if it had to happen twice.”

You nod. “Me too.”

Neither of you are aware of it, but his mom stands just around the corner, tears stinging her eyes. And she knows her little boy has finally found the right girl for himself.

When you pull away from Nate, he caresses both of your cheeks, bringing his lips down to your own. His hand slips under the oversized t-shirt hanging from your frame , moving higher until he's cupping one of your bare breasts. He rubs the pad of his thumb against your nipple until it pebbles.

You pull away and he quickly moves his lips to your neck, sucking on that same hicky from last night.

You gasp. "Nate, what if someone walks in?"

He gently bites down and your hips buck against him.

He lifts you onto the counter, moving his lips back to yours, considering reaching his hand into his shorts that hang from your hips, until his phone vibrates in his pocket.

He bites back a curse at the ruined moment.

He pulls away from you with an irritated sigh and you wait patiently while he checks the notification.

He scans over the message, then looks up to you. "Do you want to go to a party tonight?"

You blink at him. "Like a birthday party?"

He smiles at your sweet innocence. "No, baby, a real party."

"Oh." You consider it for a moment. "I've never been to one."

He smirks, stepping closer to you, between your dangling legs. "I figured as much."

"Do you want to go?"

In truth, he usually wouldn't much care either way, but he knows this is a perfect opportunity to get you drunk, just to see what he can get out of it—out of you.

"I wouldn't mind it. It'd give us something to do tonight."

He give him a peck on the lips. "Okay."

He'd honestly thought you'd try to talk him into some fairytale movie night instead. He's pleased with your easy agreement.

"The party doesn't start until nine, which really means to show up after ten, at least. So we have the whole day ahead of us. We could run over to your place, get you changed, and pick up an outfit for tonight." He doesn't mention also getting pajamas for when he brings you back here after getting you loaded. You can either sleep naked or in something of his. But he'll make that decision then.

"Okay," you say pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Once you've changed I'll give you your first driving lesson."

You still then, and he dislikes your sudden change in demeanor. He prefers you agreeable and cute.

"What do you mean?"

He raises a brow. "Don't worry, I'm not going to be putting you on the interstate your first day. I'll teach you some of the basics in the school parking lot."

He moves his hand back under your shirt, gripping the curve of your side.

"And that's all, right?"

He nods.

You gently grip his t-shirt. "Okay."

He smiles.

Once you and Nate have arrived at your house, he follows you into your bedroom. Before you can open your closet to find a proper outfit to change into, he beats you to it. You stand to the side, still unsure how to feel about him picking out your clothes.

You say nothing about it, however, telling yourself it's one way he shows affection.

He hands you the blue babydoll dress he'd bought you, then picks up a pair of matte silver flats from your small shoe rack at the bottom of your closet, setting them near your bedroom door.

Without a word, without even your permission, he opens the top drawer of your dresser and begins to browse your panties and bras.

"W-what're you-"

He looks at you over his shoulder. "I've already seen you naked, sweetheart. Am I not allowed to pick out your panties?"

You blush furiously—your cheeks hot—before sitting down on your bed. You don't answer as he turns back around, picking out a pair of sky-blue panties with tiny dark-blue flowers printed on them and a white bra with lace trim and a heart sewn in the middle.

He tosses the items on your bed.

"Stand up for me, baby."

You do as he asks and he slowly pushes the hem of the t-shirt you're wearing up. You lift your arms and he removes it entirely, dropping it on the floor. You feel the need to cover your bare breasts, but refrain as he rubs the pads of his thumbs over each of your nipples.

He then reaches down, puling at the drawstring of the shorts he'd given you to wear and they fall to the carpeted floor, pooling at your feet.

You feel beyond self-conscious being completely naked before him in the daylight.

And he can tell just by your shift in body language. Pressing your thighs together, hands clasped in front of your genitals. And you refuse to look at him now.

He cups one of your cheeks in his hand, his other arm resting at his side. "Are you insecure?"

You shrug.

His lip twitches. Good, he thinks.

Maddy had been too fucking confident in every way. And Cassie had been completely secure in her looks, her body. And he'd thought them both shallow sluts for it.

But you? You have humility. You need his approval. Because you have no idea what you have.

"Look at me, Y/N."

You do so reluctantly.

"Do you have any idea how fucking perfect you are? What seeing you like this does to me?"

He uses his free hand to grab at his erection over his jeans and fills with such fucking satisfaction at seeing your pure, innocent eyes widen when you look down.

You look back up to him. "O-oh."

He glances to your bed behind you, that teddy still in-place. He looks at you again, your eyes watching him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.

And he revels in it.

"Lie back on the bed, sweetheart."

You give a terse nod before doing so.

He leans over you, grabbing your bear, before handing it to you. "Hold this."

Your brows furrow, but you take the plush object from his grip.

He stands back up, removing his leather jacket before tossing it toward your chair in the corner. He then kneels down on the floor at the foot of your bed. Finally, he reaches forward, grabbing your hips and bringing himself face-to-face with that pretty pussy of yours.

"N-nate, wha-"

He immediately gets you to shut up by throwing your legs over his shoulders just like last night and devouring your already-wet pussy.

You grip your bear tighter, your body relaxing.

Nate eventually removes his lips from your cunt after a few minutes, then starts planting firm, wet kisses against your inner-thighs. Slowly. One after another after another. Occasionally sucking in one spot here, another there, working at giving you a couple more hickys, marking your privates as his very own.

He does the same as last night, gripping your hips in his large hands, keeping you still.

You whimper quietly, so he blows against your weeping pussy and you wiggle your hips, trying to get closer and he grins.

He flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit and watches as you pulsate for just a moment.

He reaches down, spreading your labia with his fore and middle fingers and admiring your in-tact seal. Mine, all fucking mine, he thinks before putting his mouth back on you.

He looks up, sees you gripping your teddy bear, biting your lip, your back arched and he moans against you at the beautiful fucking sight of you spread open and completely vulnerable before him.

He has you so fucking duped—thinking he's some injured boy looking for love—when all he really wants is to possess every part of you.

But he knows he's the best thing for you. What you need.

Not any of the idiotic guys at school who wouldn't know how to appreciate you. Wouldn't know how to provide for or protect you. Wouldn't know the first thing to do with you, other than try to shove their cocks in your face, or between your legs.

No, he wants you for far, far longer, and for far more than just some quick fuck.

You're sweet, inexperienced, and all alone. Not even you know what you need, what you want, who you are. But he does.

He runs his tongue along your hymen and you cry out and his eyes roll in pleasure at the sound. Finally he's gotten you to make some fucking noise.

He does it again and your body shudders.

He does his utmost to ignore his cock straining painfully against his pants.

He removes his mouth from you again and he hears a sound escape your lips that's something akin to a sob.

He begins to kiss your thighs again, working his way down to your knees, then back up each side. He sucks against the soft skin, leaving angry purple bruises on both sides before blowing against your clit again. You throw your teddy down out of frustration and he knows he nearly has you there.

He blows again, flicks his tongue lightly against your clit, a kiss and then another on either of your thighs, lightly biting. And then finally, finally, you reach down, tangling your fingers in his hair and you move your pussy closer, your ass now nearly hanging off the edge of the bed.

He looks up at you. "This what you want, sweetheart?"

Your fingers tighten then loosen against his scalp. "Mhm."

He blows against your dripping pussy. "You want me to let you cum, baby?"

You look down at him and your cheeks are a lovely shade of pink, your eyes glazed over with lust. "Please, Nate."

"How about pretty please?"

You lie back down against your fluffy white pillows with their frilly cases. "Pretty please?"

He kisses your right thigh. "Can you say with sugar on top?"

You squirm your hips and he holds them each in an iron-tight grip against the bed.

You let out a small sob.

She's finally fucking crying, he thinks.

"With sugar on top, please, p-pretty please?"

He kisses your left thigh, sucking on that pretty purple bruise of his own doing.

"And a cherry?" He asks.

You let out another sob and he can see a tear slip from your eye, dampening a spot on the pillow beneath your head.

God it's hardly taken him any effort at all. But, then again, you have nothing to compare him to.

"Prettypleasewithsugarontopandacherry?"

It all comes out as one long, garbled word, you say it so quickly. But he deems it good enough. He knows he's humiliated you by making you beg. But that you're so desperate for it that you'll do anything to have his mouth back on you.

"Good girl," he says before getting back to work with his tongue.

You start crying. "T-thank you."

It's after another ten minutes—you whining and grinding yourself into his mouth, whispering his name quietly over and over again—that he finally lets you fall over the edge. And it's something beautiful to fucking behold when you do.

Halfway through, he'd spread your right leg wider, his hand squeezing your thigh, keeping it in-place. He'd found your left hand with his, twining his fingers between yours, your hand squeezing his every few seconds as you concentrated on trying to find your release.

And when you orgasm, your hand squeezes his so hard it hurts, even a bit. He keeps your legs spread as you arch your back, your fingers tugging against his hair, rubbing your pussy against his mouth. And once you've calmed, your hammering heart slowing, he keeps your legs spread, watching your ass and pussy pulsate slowly. It's only once they've both stopped that he allows you to finally close your legs.

He climbs up onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and you cry quietly for a moment and you can't understand why.

He shooshes you. "It's alright, baby. You did so fucking good for me."

He places a soft kiss to the top of your head and you close your eyes, pressing yourself closer to him.

You feel so...different. Your body feels hot all over, a pleasant soreness between your legs, your thigh muscles a bit more overworked than usual, and your head feels...a bit foggy somehow? You feel relaxed for once. Content.

And the way you feel about Nate in this moment... You can't think like that. Can't acknowledge that little four-letter word. You were being ridiculous. But you'd never felt like this before. Never felt the way you had last night in his bed, either.

You can't say it. If you do, you'll lose him. And you can't lose anyone else. Because you have no one else to turn to if you do.

Now that you know how good it feels to be cared for and wanted and desired, you don't ever want to be alone again.

You suddenly feel tired and feel yourself starting to drift off to sleep against his broad, warm chest, his hands rubbing soothing circles against your bare back. You press your palms against him and yawn.

Then, "You ready for me to get you dressed, angel?"

Your eyes slowly flutter open. "I'm so tired."

He smirks. You would be.

Wait until he starts fucking you multiple times a day. You won't have energy for anything else. Or, that's the plan, at least. All you'll want is to stay naked in his bed. Too exhausted to even get up and put a t-shirt on.

He squeezes your small, soft body for a moment. "I know, but I really wanted to give you your first driving lesson today."

Not that he plans to let you start driving—not that you have the means to do so in the first place—but because he knows you'll learn sooner or later, and he wants to be the one to teach you yet one more thing.

He doesn't want it coming from another man, even if it's your dad.

You're his.

He sits up and you bury your face in a pillow and all he can do is think how cute you look.

"C'mon, let's go get you cleaned up."

You look up at him, at his outstretched hand, and you take it, following him sleepily to the bathroom.

As you stand in the shower, Nate gently wiping down your naked body with a warm, soapy cloth, you almost want to cry from how loved you feel.

You just can't manage to wrap your head around how Maddy or Cassie could've ever treated him the way they did. How Maddy could've been so cruel. Could've only wanted him for what he could give her. How she could've been so materialistic when he alone is so...wonderful.

You suppose you understand Cassie losing it over the thought of losing him. But it seems so evil to try and trap someone so kind and thoughtful in a relationship they no longer feel safe or comfortable in.

God, no reason he doesn't want to talk about either of them.

And then his dad treating him so terribly and trying to drive you away almost immediately after the two of you get together... You wonder if it isn't so Nate won't be 'distracted'. If he's the type of man to try and force his son to live up to some ideal image of manhood he himself could never quite achieve.

Your heart swells with affection for Nate, just like it did last night and this morning both.

You're broken from your thoughts by him speaking. "Turn."

You do.

Once Nate has rinsed you off, even shaved your legs, and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, he gestures for you to sit on the toilet lid and you watch as he pulls out your straightener like the day before.

You sit silently for a moment as he runs it over your hair. Then you decide you have to finally ask about his interest in styling.

"Nate?"

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

He's quiet for a moment, then, "Sure."

"How did you learn to do hair?"

He raises a brow, even if you can't see it. "Just comes naturally, I guess."

"Is...is that something you think you'd like to do one day? Styling or barbering?"

He nearly laughs at you. A straight man as a stylist.

"No. I just like doing yours."

"Oh." Then, "Why? Do you not like how I do it?"

Your tone sounds hurt, if not also a bit worried.

Good, you're finally worried about what he thinks of your appearance. You want his approval.

"I didn't say that. I just like taking care of you; dressing you up."

Like a doll, you think, but you don't say it.

He drops his hands, the hot tool now hanging by his side. "Why? Do you want me to stop doing it? Does it bother you that much?"

You turn back to him, gripping the towel wound around you. "No. I didn't say that."

You echo his own words back at him and his jaw feathers, not liking it. He'd picked out your clothes for you, gave you an orgasm without asking for anything in return, bathed you, and was now doing your hair, and you wanted to get fucking smart with him?

His free hand twitches at his side.

"It means...it means a lot to me, Nate. That you want to do things like this for me. That you care enough to try in the first place. No one has ever been so sweet to me." A tear falls and you quickly wipe it away, looking up at him again. "You're the most selfless person I've ever met."

He softens, his jaw relaxing, his fist loosening. He kneels down. "You're sure you don't mind?"

You shake your head, giving him a warm smile. "You make me feel so..." You trail off. You can't say loved. "So cared for. And safe."

You lean forward, kissing him softly. He moves his free hand under your towel and it falls open. He slides his hand from your thigh, to your hips, then to your back, pulling you closer to him. Finally, you wrap your arms around his neck as he deepens the kiss, flicking his tongue against your lips, silently asking for entrance, which you immediately grant him. Just as you start to spread your legs, clearly wanting him to give you something more, he stands, returning to your hair.

And as he finishes up with the straightener, all he can do is bite back an amused smile at you having called him 'selfless'. As if the things he does to you are for you.

Once Nate has finished with your hair—parting the fronts on either side from the rest, then joining them together in the back with a light blue bow he clips into place—he leads you back into your room.

He kneels down in front of you again, slipping your panties over your legs—you gripping his shoulder for support as you put one foot through one side, then the same with the other—he plants a quick kiss to your belly, which makes you giggle—the sound making him hard again. He then puts your bra on you.

Once he's clasped the back, he grabs your new dress and carefully lowers it over your head, careful not to mess up your hair. Once he's tied the large bow at the back of it, he adjusts your Tiffany necklace.

The pendant still resting in his palm, he looks at you. "Can you promise me something?"

You nod gently.

"Don't ever take this necklace off unless I tell you otherwise."

You're quiet for a moment, then, "Okay."

Once Nate has slipped your flats onto your feet, he looks you over for a moment, his eyes honing in on the hicky he'd left on your neck.

You stare back at him for a moment, before reaching up and pressing your fingertips against it. "I think I have some concealer-"

He shakes his head, not feeling like bothering with giving you a full-face of makeup at the moment.

"Do you have any chokers?"

Your brows furrow. "The necklaces?"

"Mhm."

You shake your head. "I never really got into those."

Well, you're about to, he thinks. He offers you his hand. "Let's go."

You slide your palm against his.

Once you're seated in Nate's truck, you grab your seatbelt, until he holds it in-place before you can pull it across your chest.

"Let me."

You let go and wait as he reaches across you, buckling you in. "I-I can do that."

He gives you a peck on the lips and a smile. "It's fine, I don't mind," he states before shutting your door.

Just as you're perhaps ten minutes away from the school, Nate turns down an unfamiliar road.

"I thought we were going to the school parking lot?"

He slides his hand up your thigh, under your dress, until it's so close to your panties he can feel your heat. "Just making a little detour, something I want to pick up real quick."

Perhaps five minutes later he pulls up to a small, expensive-looking boutique. He exits the truck before you can ask him what's going on, coming around to your side. He goes through the same—but also slightly-new—rendition of opening your door, and now also unbuckling you. He grabs you by the hips, helping you down, then taking your hand firmly in his as he walks inside.

An older woman with straight grey hair, an orange dress, and glasses calls out to the both of you, welcoming you to her shop.

You greet her back, while Nate all but ignores her.

"What are you looking for?" You ask, looking at him.

"I need to see if they even have it first."

He looks to the woman. "Where's your jewelry section?"

She points to the back of the store. "Back there and to the right. Let me know if you need help finding anything. Or need something ordered in a different size or color."

He leads you alongside him, until he finds a small display of lacy chokers.

He releases your hand, picking one up, holding it toward you.

You shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "I don't wear them for a reason. They're called chokers for a reason. They're really uncomfortable and-"

He cuts you off by tying it around your neck. "You wanted to cover the hicky I gave you. So, unless you want to put on a sweater in this heat, I don't see any other options."

You go silent, feeling like he's wrapping a collar around your throat instead.

He notices your sudden change in demeanor.

"What's wrong?"

You reach up, gently touching the fabric wrapped around your throat. "I don't know." Your tone is unsure.

He flexes his jaw. He takes a calming breath, refusing to make a scene in public. He sighs, cupping your cheek. "I just thought I'd buy you one to make you feel better. You don't have to wear it if you don't want to." He smirks, trying to come off as playful, flirty even. "I might prefer it if you don't, actually."

You blush, a small smile coming onto your lips.

He nearly releases a breath of relief.

He's fine with letting you think that him putting a collar of ownership on you was all your idea. He's fine with letting you think it's something else entirely.

You look in the small mirror set up off to the side of the jewelry selection. "I guess it feels okay."

He picks up a few more then. "Anything you'd like to look at while we're here?"

You shake your head immediately and it displeases him.

He leans down, kisses you, then whispers against your lips. "We're not leaving until you've picked out something for me to buy for you."

He kisses you again and again, then pulls away.

"You're sure?"

He nods. "I told you yesterday that I plan to spoil you fucking rotten. I like buying you presents, sweetheart. So let me."

Even if he knows it's just another form of him love-bombing you.

You gently twine your fingers between his and begin to browse.

By the time the two of you are done, Nate has spent over three-hundred dollars on you.

You'd only picked out a pair of sunglasses and a cheap pair of earrings, hoping that'd be enough for him, but he'd shopped more for you than you had for yourself.

He'd bought you two more dresses, a pair of jean cut-off shorts with a light-purple shirt to go with them, a new pair of sandals, the chokers he'd picked up when you first came in, and a few bows for your hair, along with a couple bottles of nail polish.

Just as you'd thought the two of you nearly finished, Nate had stopped, you bumping into his backside.

"Sorry," you'd said, squeezing his hand, but he'd not been paying any attention to you.

And when you followed his line-of-sight, your eyes grew wider.

No. Not lingerie.

But it was too late. He was already leading you over to their wide array of options. From simple bras and panties, to thongs, garters, chemises, but Nate only shows interest in, of course, babydolls.

He picks up a burgundy one, holding it up to you, but not looking at you, but your body. He shakes his head, then flips through the other colors before finding a soft pink one. He removes it from the rack.

"Nate-"

He quickly cuts you off. "We'll get this one. I'd like to see it on you at some point."

He takes your hand as he leads you up to the register.

You'd stood silently by his side as he swiped a shiny black credit card, an unsettling feeling in your gut, but you merely pressed yourself against his side then—willing it away—and he'd pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head as he grabbed the decorative boutique bags off the counter with one hand, taking yours in the other as he led you back out to his truck.

You're silent the entire way to the school, Nate's hand wedged firmly between your thighs, and it feels like the choker around your neck grows tighter.

Once Nate has pulled into the school parking lot, he kills the engine, turning to you.

He'd noticed your silence on the way to your destination. Had noticed your refusal to look in his direction. Instead keeping your eyes on the passing scenery outside your window.

He knows he's moving too fast, doing too much. That it's making you uncomfortable. Perhaps more than uncomfortable. And he fears that if he pushes too much harder, right now, at least, you might just jump ship. You've only been together since Thursday evening. Not even a full two days yet.

But he's good with words, always knows exactly what to say after reading someone to get desired results.

You're no different.

He turns toward you, you still looking out the window. "Hey," he says softly, quietly. "Can you look at me?"

A couple seconds pass and then you do.

He removes his hand from between your legs, instead using it to take one of your own in his. He looks down at your hands, furrowing his brows. "I'm sorry if...if maybe I did too much back there. If I made you uncomfortable. That was never my intention. I just..." He looks out the windshield. "I see everything you've gone without. Things I never have. Nice clothes, shoes..."

He looks back at you then. "Even just someone to talk to. I just..." He sighs, acting like he's at a loss for words. "The last thing I want is for you to continue on that way. So, sometimes, I like to buy you gifts. Take you to nice places on dates. Above all else, I want to make sure you're always happy.

"I want you to feel as happy as you've made me in the time we've spent together. Because I've never met anyone like you. Someone so good-natured and empathetic and affectionate. I think that's honestly what it is," he says with a small laugh, as if he's just figured something out. "I've never had that before. From anyone. So it makes me want to...to be better. It makes me so fucking happy to do things for you. To take care of you. I feel like maybe you bring out the softer side of me—the best of me. A side of me I don't ever share with anyone else. Because every time I have, they've either used it against me, or taken advantage, or mocked me for it. So, I feel like I always have to keep it under lock and key.

"And now I feel like it's only served to make you uncomfortable and-"

You interrupt him by reaching up, pressing your palm against his cheek. Now you understood it better. It wasn't just about him liking to give you gifts. No. It went far deeper than that.

This—this young man right here—is who he's always been. But he's never felt allowed to show it. The last thing you want to do is make him feel, yet again, like he needs to hide it away.

This is the side of him that you want to see.

"It did. Because for a second it felt like...like maybe you're trying to change me or..." You don't want to say it, but you're both being honest. "Or maybe control me? And after only a couple days together, that frightened me. But now? Nate, this," you say, reaching down to take his other hand in yours. "This is the one thing you can give me that I actually need. Honesty. If I understand it—you—then it won't bother me. Whatever it is."

You rub your thumb against the back of his hand. "You don't ever have to be afraid of being like this with me. Of opening up. If anything, it makes me feel closer to you. I know some girls expect men to be masculine and tough all the time, but I don't. I just want you as you are."

He gives you a loving look. He reaches across the console, wrapping his muscled arms around you, his hand cupping the back of your head. "I'm so glad I have you now."

You nod. "Me too."

He pulls back the least bit, simply looking into your eyes, until you press a kiss to his lips, and then another, and then he grabs your chin, deepening it. After a moment, you climb across the truck, into his lap, your legs bent on either side of him. He quickly reaches down, sliding the seat back. He then reaches under your dress, into the back of your panties, squeezing your ass in each of his hands and you grind down against him, gasping lightly before pressing your mouth back against his.

His cock is already straining against his jeans, desperately aching to finally fucking be inside of you, but he once again tells himself no, even if he's already grown sick and fucking tired of it.

He then reaches into your panties, his palm flat against your slick pussy.

You pull away a bit.

"I want you to cum on my hand," he whispers.

You don't even think about it before you begin to buck your hips against his palm, bringing your mouth back down to his own.

In a few minutes, the truck is shaking from the movements of your hips, trying desperately to reach your finish, pushing down against him as much as the limited space the two of you occupy allows.

Damned bucket seats, you think.

Nate wants to shove a finger or two inside of you, but knows that seal is meant to be broken by his cock and his cock alone.

Eventually, you groan in frustration. He reaches up, throwing some hair back behind your shoulder, which your dress is beginning to slip off of. "What's wrong, baby? Tell me what you need."

You whimper, grabbing his arm, humping his hand, but it's no use on its own.

"Would my leg be better, angel?"

You look up at him and nod.

First, he reaches around, pulling loose the bow tied against your back, then pulling down the top of your dress, until that lacy little bra is visible. He quickly unhooks it at the back, tossing it into the passenger seat. He then grabs your hips, repositioning you over his left thigh.

"Go on, sweetheart, cum for me."

As you begin to grind down against his thigh—a shudder wracking through your body—he leans forward, taking one of your breasts in his mouth.

"Mm, so much better," you say quietly, head thrown back.

His hand is now soaked, but he reaches into the back of your panties once again, gripping your ass, feeling your movements as you ride his leg.

It's only a few minutes later that he begins to feel a wet sensation against his thigh and he pulls back, watching you.

Your face, neck, and chest are red with a sex flush, your soft breasts as well. He firmly grips your hips. "Come on, angel. Cum for me."

You begin to move faster, grinding down against him, whimpering, sighing.

"That's it, baby, I know. I know it feels good."

You whine, nodding your head.

"You look so fucking beautiful. Cum on my leg, sweetheart. You're almost there. Come on, baby."

It only takes a few more seconds before you fall over the edge. "Ah, Nate!"

You press your lips back to his, riding out your orgasm, bucking your hips against his thigh until you're sore and can't go anymore.

And his cock is throbbing from you saying his name as you climaxed. A sound he'd hoped to hear last night, or even this morning, but all that mattered was that he now had that lovely fucking sound in his head.

You only whispering his name in your room hadn't been nearly satisfactory enough.

Once your movements have slowed, you slump against him, your breathing ragged.

He holds you, hands rubbing against your bare back. He presses a kiss to the side of your head. "You did such a good job, angel."

You lie your head on his shoulder. "I did?"

He hums in approval. "I fucking loved hearing you say my name like that."

You pull back, eyes now hooded. "Really?"

He smirks. "Of course. Why wouldn't I like that?"

You gently plant your palms against his chest.

"Did you like that?"

You look at him from under your lashes and nod shyly.

He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Good."

You glance down at his erection, then back up to him. "Should I-"

He shakes his head. "I just wanted to take care of you. I enjoy helping you cum."

Lies, fucking lies. Yes, he enjoys knowing he's the one making you orgasm, but God if he doesn't want to pull his cock out and force it down your warm wet throat right now just to get some fucking relief.

But he can't. Not here. Not like this.

You nod.

He grabs your bra and begins dressing you again.

"Right blinker."

You glance at the levers on either side of the steering wheel. You know it's one of them, but unsure which one exactly.

You look at him.

"Try the lever on the left side."

A small green arrow starts blinking on the dash.

"Now left one."

A new arrow appears.

"Hazard lights."

Once Nate has schooled you on the various buttons and levers and switches his truck has to offer—you hope can you remember all of them—he makes you identify the brake and then the gas, then the gas and then the brake over and over, before telling you to adjust your mirrors, and finally instructing you to take the vehicle out of park and do a lap around the parking lot.

You don't go over ten miles per hour as you do as instructed, his palm resting on your thigh all the while for support.

One you've reached the spot where you first started, you press down on the brakes a bit too hard—the both of you lurch forward in your seats.

Your face grows warm and you look at him, gripping the wheel tighter. "Sorry."

He chuckles and you're glad you at least got him to smile. "It's ok. We'll work on that. Go ahead and go around again."

You do as instructed.

At the end of your lessons, Nate deems that you've done rather well. He'd had you drive around the parking lot a few times, reverse, park, even parallel park, which wasn't your favorite, but he tells you that all of it will improve in time the more he has you do it.

When he finally comes around to the driver's side to unbuckle you, you can't help but smile at how...special you feel.

He'd told you before you ever even switched seats that he'd never let another person drive his truck. Ever.

You'd thanked him for the privilege, then joked that you would only put, at most, a couple dents in it.

He'd told you he might have to punish you if that happened, his hand snaking between your legs.

On the way back to Nate's house, he'd called ahead and ordered the two of you Chinese for dinner, saying he wouldn't take you to a party on an empty stomach.

You'd merely told him thank you, twining his fingers between your own, his other wrist draped over the wheel.

As the two of you sat at the dining room table in his house, eating your dinner side-by-side, he'd fed you some of his Kung Pao chicken, your throat immediately burning. He'd laughed as you gulped down half a glass of water.

You ignored his telling you water would only make it worse as you drank more.

He finished half his food, putting the rest away in the fridge before coming to sit back down beside you while you finished, his body facing yours, pressing soft kisses to your hair every few moments as you ate your rice and chicken.

And at one point, when you'd finally looked at him, the look in his eyes was nothing short of adoring.

He merely continued to stare at you, his fingers threading through your hair. "You're so beautiful."

"Thank you."

He nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before you went back to eating.

So polite, he thought. Even after giving you oral you had thanked him—thanked him—for getting you to orgasm. God, you were so different than anyone he'd ever had before.

As his eyes trailed over your body, he couldn't help but smile at knowing you're his.

Once you're full, he leads you up to his room, stripping you out of your outfit for the day, before slipping one of his t-shirts on over your head for you to relax in for the next couple of hours before he gets you ready for the party.

You seat yourself on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to decide what the two of you are going to do next, until he sits down on his lifting bench.

"Do you care if I work out for a little bit?"

You shake your head. "Go ahead," you say with a smile. Perhaps even a little eager to watch him.

He lies back, legs spread, feet planted on the floor on either side of him, then reaches up to start weight-lifting.

You lean forward, your legs crossed, elbows pressed into your thighs, head resting on your fists as you watch him with utter desire.

The way his biceps flex, his abs taught as he pushes the weight up from him, then back down, with little difficulty. You lick your lips as your eyes trail lower, somewhat wanting to see what you'd felt pressed against your heat earlier in his truck.

You know you had told him that you didn't mind him being softer, gentler, but the fact that he plays football, drives a big truck, and works out...it's all definitely a turn-on.

After a number of reps—you'd not bothered keeping count of just how many, you were otherwise occupied—Nate sits up, only glancing to you before starting with the leg lift next. And your eyes once again trail from his abdomen, all the way down to his muscled legs, dark hair littering both.

You feel warm, especially between your thighs. God, you can't believe he's all yours.

Who cares if he wants to blow large loads of money on you and dress you up occasionally if you get to watch him do this sometimes.

Once he's finished, you sit up straighter as he walks over to you. You look up at him.

"Sorry if that was a bit boring."

He knows you liked it. Can tell from how intently you had watched him, the obvious warmth of your cheeks.

You shake your head. "It wasn't," you say, your voice barely above a whisper you're so turned on.

He grips your chin, running his thumb alonger your lower lip. "No?"

You lightly shake your head.

"You liked it?" He pretends to feign mild suprise.

You nod.

He studies you for a moment. Then, he leans down toward you, forcing you to lay back on the bed.

He reaches between your legs and you gasp in surprise as he runs two fingers along your soaking wet folds. "That much, huh?"

You nod, then spread your legs wider, reaching down to the hem of his t-shirt, quickly removing it, leaving yourself completely naked before him.

A silent plea for him to do something—anything—to relieve that pulse going between your legs now.

He rubs his thumb over your clit and you smile, reching up to grip his broad shoulders.

"Did that feel good?"

You nod. "Y-yes."

He looks down at your pussy. "So wet for me, aren't you, baby?"

You spread your legs wider, the backs of your thighs now resting flat on the mattress they can't be parted any further.

And all Nate can think is how needy you fucking are. And he loves it. How easily wet you get for him, how you're already so willing to let him touch and taste and tease you. How you so easily hand over control of your body to him.

He presses a kiss to your lips for just a moment before pulling away, rubbing his thumb over your clit again.

"Mm, Nate..."

He smirks as you close your eyes, expecting him to give you yet another orgasm today.

Finally, he steps away, shutting the bathroom door behind him, the shower turning on.

Your eyes pop open and you shoot up in bed, bringing your legs back together, wondering why the hell he'd left.

Nate takes his time showering, hoping you're lying on the bed sexually frustrated from his teasing you, something he plans to do a great deal more of in-time.

He knows how powerful of a weapon sex can be, and with your experience being null...he never had that kind of upper-hand before. He's beyond elated that he does now.

He'd known Maddy had been lying when they fucked for the first time. When he had pulled out of her and there's been no blood, when she'd clearly known what the hell she was doing. But, because she'd been something warm and tight to stick his cock into, he'd resigned himself to not having a virgin like he wanted.

But you? You don't stand a chance against his sexual prowess.

Once he's showered and has also shaved, he jacks off thinking about the things he's done to you so far, but even more-so the things to come.

When he finishes, it's with cum shooting out, onto his hand, on the dark shower walls. Finally he feels some small form of release.

It's beyond fucking difficult maintaining control when it comes to being intimate with you, but he has a plan and knows he has to—must—stick to it. It's imperative that your first time with him is full of emotion and love and passion.

Because once the two of you have shared that moment?

His hooks in you will be permanently set.

Once Nate had showered, you'd not said anything about his teasing you. In reality, you kind of liked it... You knew he was being a flirt by doing it, if not also a bit of an ass, but for some reason all of that turned you on all the more.

The build-up to something else.

The two of you lied down on his bed for awhile, you naked, pressed into his side, one of your legs twined around his own while while some cheesy romance movie played—something he'd put on, thinking you would like it.

But you couldn't focus on that. Instead, all you could think about was how good this feels. This level of comfort and warmth and trust with someone to be with them like this. Naked in his bed, one of his arms around you, fingertips brushing against your hip, his other bent behind his head.

You think how lucky you are to have him. He's smart, handsome, sweet, so, so kind and giving and selfless, mature, determined...the list goes on.

He moves his hand up, his fingers working themselves against your scalp and you close your eyes, falling asleep listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart.

You're woken by Nate planting featherlight kisses against your cheeks, forehead, nose, chin, lips. Your eyes flutter open and you wrap your arms around his neck, stretching, arching your back. You smile up at him through drowsy eyes. "Hi."

You crane your neck up to kiss him and he melts into you. Literally melts.

Your softness, your graceful femininity, your love and desire for him and only him.

He pulls away for a moment, your gentle fingertips touching his lips as you look into his eyes.

"Time to get up and let me get you ready, angel."

"What if we stayed here in your bed?" You ask, your voice light and dreamy.

And fuck him if he doesn't consider it for a moment.

He shakes his head, then. He needs to get you drunk tonight.

"Sit up for me, sweetheart."

You keep your arms around his neck as he pulls you up with him, yawning as he disentangles himself from you, then takes your hand in his, leading your naked form into the bathroom as he turns on the shower.

Once he's washed you, the two of you go through the same rendition as that morning. And due to your still feeling sleepy, you let him do as he pleases as he brushes out your still-straight hair, forgoing any accessories. He then leads you back into his bedroom, seating you on his mattress as he goes through the bag he'd packed for you. He'd found a comely black dress in your closet that he'd actually been surprised you even owned, it showed so much skin. Well, a lot for you, at least.

But it'd also been shoved into the back, so it clearly was not a favorite of yours.

You raise your arms as he slips the soft black dress over your naked form. He admires it on you for a moment—it's a mini dress, with a plunging neckline, the sides cut out, leaving your sides bare, but against your back is a large bow.

He doesn't consider putting a choker back on you, wanting anyone who looks at you tonight to see the mark he'd put on your body, branding you as his property.

He then kneels down, slipping a black pair of pumps onto your feet which are covered in a pleasant floral pattern, small bows on each.

He then stands, heading over to his closet and throwing on a t-shirt and jeans, and a pair of clean socks and tennis shoes, shrugging on a zip-up hoodie before offering you his hand.

A small smile plays on Nate's lips the entire way over to the party. This afternoon had been so perfect. You naked in his bed, asleep in his arms, then sitting there contently—silently—while he readied you, dressing you up as he pleased. And now here you sit in the passenger side, entertaining yourself with his right hand resting in your lap, holding one of your own while your other traces idle shapes along his veins and skin.

As he slows for a traffic light, he glances at you, how beautiful you look. And all he can think is how much he loves you.

"Are you happy, baby?"

You look up at him, smile, then nod. "Yes."

The light turns green and he looks back to the road before the both of you.

Once Nate has parked, you feel your pulse rising under your skin. Flashing lights, and loud, thumping music come from the two-story house before you, numerous people coming in and out, milling around outside, drinks in-hand.

Once Nate has come around and unbuckled you, you stay seated. "There's a lot of people here."

He just looks at you, waiting for you to continue. "I...I get anxious in crowds."

He takes your hand in his, helping you down. "Just stay close to me, then, sweetheart."

You twine your fingers securely between his, your other arm coming up to wrap around his own and you press your body as close as you can into his side as you enter the strange domicile you've never been to before.

And Nate eats it up—you clinging to him so closely, afraid of being parted from his side—and he feels both a sense of satisfaction, as well as jealousy, if not also possessiveness, as young men's eyes trail along your young body. All of them want what they'll never have. You belong to him now.

He glances down at you and you're already looking up at him, completely oblivious to the men practically lapping at you with their tongues.

He gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head, then leads you further into the house, the music growing so loud you can feel the bass in your chest, intermixing with the wild beat of your heart.

Nate's eyes dart this way and that, looking for possible familiar faces—not because he wants to spend any amount of time with anyone but you tonight—but because he wants the word to spread like wildfire that you're already wrapped around his finger already. Completely devoted to him.

When he spots the kitchen, he leads you in that direction, honing in on the plethora of alcoholic drinks sitting out on the counter.

He releases your hand for a moment, your body pressing impossibly closer to his own, as he looks over the bottles, searching for something good to start you out with. Something sweet and sugary to get you drunk on before he has you start downing hard liquor to keep you that way for the rest of the night.

His goal is to get you drunk enough that you black out and forget what he has planned this evening.

He spots a bottle of sparkling cider and picks it up, pouring some into a solo cup, placing it in your small delicate hands.

"I-I don't drink!" You practially have to scream at him over the music.

His brows furrow, acting like he has no idea what you've said. He leans down, placing his ear close to those pretty lips that he'd put some pink lipgloss on before leaving.

"I don't drink, Nate."

He places his lips against your ear, his hand gripping your hip in silent encouragement. "Just try it, you might like it."

You look at him for a moment, then finally take a sip. And your eyes widen in interest before taking another one. He bites back a satisfied smirk.

"Do you like it?"

You nod your head fervently and he can't help but think how utterly fucking adorable you look.

He takes your cup, filling it nearly to the brim with the orange substance.

He, himself, grabs a bottle of Budweiser before leading you further into the house, seating himself on a couch before pulling you into his lap, one of his hands coming to rest firmly between your legs under your dress.

He takes a sip of his beer, then watches as you take another sip and then another from your cup. He reaches up, tipping it forward, forcing you to down a third of it in one go. Finally, he drops his hand, picking up his beer again and laughs playfully when you look at him, shaking your head with a smile.

By the time you've reached the bottom of your cup, you're already drunk. Your head feels light, like it's spinning. You lean back against Nate, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Did you finish it?"

You merely nod, a giggle escaping your lips.

"Want me to get you another one?"

You sit up straighter, then turn to look at him and burst out laughing.

He can't keep himself from smiling at you.

"Is that a yes?"

You nod, scrunching your nose up adorably before throwing your arms around his neck, pressing a firm wet kiss to his cheek, then kissing his lips. He notes that you taste pleasantly of apples.

You stumble alongside Nate as he pulls you into the kitchen, filling your cup again and you don't notice, as you go to take a sip, that he once again puts his index finger under the base, holding it in-place until half the cup is drained.

He glances behind you, seeing Maddy across the room, wearing some revealing purple dress that nearly shows her ass, Kat at her side.

He watches them as they watch you, Maddy leaning over to Kat, saying something to her, which he can't quite make out.

He thinks, if he's read her lips correctly, she said 'what the fuck did he do to her?'.

He looks down at you, cupping one of your cheeks in his hand. "Do you want to dance?"

"What?" You giggle again, hugging him affectionately.

When you pull away he repeats himself.

"Do you?" You ask, your words slurred.

He doesn't answer before grabbing your hand, leading you into the middle of the living room, pulling your body against his. He grabs your hips, shaking them this way then that, one of your arms slung over his shoulder, the other occasionally lifting your drink to your lips.

He then sees Cassie, who's been watching the two of you for God knows how long, so he leans down, pressing a long, passionate kiss to your lips, adding in plenty of tongue.

You moan against him and he has half-a-mind to reach into your panties, wondering if all the alcohol has gone where he hopes it has.

He refrains. He won't humiliate or disrespect you like that. Not in front of a crowd.

He moves his lips down to your neck and you throw your head back. He moves one of his hands under the cut-out side of your dress, under your panties beneath, gripping one of your ass cheeks. The other comes up to caress the back of your head as he begins kissing your neck, sucking on that purple bruise, keeping it firmly in-place.

He licks your neck when he sees Cassie finally walk away, chugging her beer.

Nate pulls back, looking down at you.

You smile up at him. "I feel so-" you laugh. "So good." you giggle a few times. "I want you so bad."

He raises a brow. "Is that so?"

"Mhm." You reply, kissing him.

He puts his lips right up against your ear. "I bet if I checked them, your panties are fucking soaked right now. Aren't they?"

He feels you nod and blood fills his cock.

"You wet for me, baby?"

You nod again. "Yes," you say breathily.

His fingers tangle in the hair at the back of your head, gently yanking your head back, and he devours your neck. He wedges one of his legs between your thighs, moving his lips back to your ear. "There you go, angel. Take what you need."

You grind against him and whimper.

He presses his lips against your own, teasing you with his tongue.

Your kissing grows sloppy, uncoordinated, your hips bucking randomly against him.

He pulls away and you pout. He pulls you back into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniels before holding it against your lips. "Try this one, sweetheart."

You don't argue, you just drink, the whiskey dripping down between your breasts, which he quickly cleans with his tongue. You giggle. "Stop it," you say between laughs.

He holds the bottle to your lips again and doesn't stop until you've drunk more than a sufficient amount.

You tug against his shirt then and he gives you his ear. "I have to-" You laugh. "Have to potty."

He holds you against his side as he goes in search of the bathroom, hoping you can hold it and that you haven't broken that tab just yet.

He finally finds it at the end of a hall. He knocks once, twice, then opens the door, finding it empty.

You stumble inside.

"Can you go on your own?" He does not fucking want to have to wipe you, but will look after you if that's what needs done.

You nod your head, slamming the door in his face.

He leans back against a wall, waiting for you. And rolls his eyes when Cassie comes to rest back against the wall opposite him.

She takes a swig of her beer—because of course she's drinking beer—at least you like the sweet stuff, which he thinks certainly fitting for you—before crossing her arms over her ample chest.

He only gives her a bored glance before leaning his head back, taking a drink of his Budweiser.

"What does she have that I don't?"

"Jesus fucking Christ," he mutters while staring up at the ceiling before looking at her. "Are you serious right now?"

She shrugs dramatically, her eyes widening. "You never had any interest in her before. Didn't you call her 'fucking boring' one time?"

He shakes his head. "Doesn't fucking matter what I said before, Cassie. I'm with her now. End of story."

She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "She's not even your fucking type!"

He laughs, mockingly. He licks his lips, glancing away, then back to her. "You have no idea what my type even is."

"I thought it was me..." She mumbles.

He raises a brow. "Are you fucking slow or something? Alright, fine. You want to know what she has that you don't?

She nods her head dramatically. "Yeah, I do. Because it sure as hell isn't looks, or-"

His fuse is near-gone by now. "She came to me a fucking virgin, for one. I sure as shit couldn't have said the same for you."

She flinches.

"Do you know how humiliating it was to be with you? The way you acted sometimes-" He rubs his thumb against his brow, lowering that hand back down to his side. "You were nothing more than a greedy whore looking for attention, and that still hasn't changed even now. It's why you're trying to make a scene in the middle of a party in front of all our peers. I mean," he holds out his hands, palms face-up before her. "What did you really hope to accomplish with this?" He relaxes one of his arms back down to his side again, the other holding his beer to his lips for a quick drink.

"Look at the fucking way you're dressed for one. You might as well have walked in here naked-"

"Look at the way she's dressed!"

"I know exactly what she's wearing because I put it on her!"

Hurt flashes across her features, remembering when he had once done that for her.

"So, is that it, then, you just needed a new doll to play with?"

He leans back, lightly banging the back of his head against the wall. "You don't fucking get it."

"Then explain it to me, since I'm so ignorant."

He looks at her again. "She's everything I've ever wanted. You can't hope to hold a fucking candle to her. You, Cassie, you were just a toy for me to fuck when I had nothing better to do. You're the girl you brag to your buddies about making another notch in your belt for. She's the girl you marry and provide a life for."

Her lip trembles.

He shakes his head. "Even then, I don't brag about you because I'm fucking ashamed I was ever even with you. I'm probably lucky I didn't catch something, since half the guys around here have rode you like a goddamn Greyhound."

She explodes then. "Fuck you, Nate! I gave you fucking everything! I bent over backwards for you—to be perfect for you. I blew up my life for you! I thought we were in love and that...that we'd have forever together and...so what? What is it, then? Do you love her now?"

He throws his bottle at the wall, no more than half a foot from her head, causing her to jump in fear as it shatters, alcohol spraying on her. "Yes, Cassie, I fucking love her!"

Right as he screams it in her face, you open the bathroom door, hearing every word.

Both their heads jerk in your direction and you glance from Cassie to Nate, back to Cassie, before finally settling on Nate again. You let out a quiet sob. "I can't get them back on, I keep falling over."

He looks down, and sees your panties around your ankles. He suddenly softens then. "Oh, baby, c'mere."

He kneels down, grabbing your hand and placing it firmly on his shoulder. "Lift your leg for me sweetheart."

You do, head spinning as he slips one foot free. "Now the other side, angel."

Cassie watches, heart breaking at how gentle he is with you. The sweet names he calls you—something he'd never done for her. She was, at the most, Cass.

Finally, he stands, pocketing your lacy black panties.

You lean back against the wall to steady yourself, and he cups both of your cheeks in his hands and all she can do is stare at the two of you. At the look in his eyes—seeing that it's true; they're filled with love and devotion and care.

"Did you go?" He asks, his tone gentle, but concerned.

You nod.

He brushes a thumb over your lips. "Did you wipe, sweetheart?"

You nod again.

He presses a firm, yet soft kiss to your forehead, then your lips, before wrapping one of his arms around you, holding you close to his side, not sparing Cassie another glance as he tells you "Let's go get you another drink."

Cassie slams the bathroom door behind her, unable to think of anything else but how, if that had been her, he wouldn't have waited for her, wouldn't have helped, or tended to her. Would've most likely started a fight with her over how she was embarrassing him. How she was being a trashy slut.

What the fuck was so different about you?

Once Nate has gotten you so drunk that you can't even stand up on your own, he has to carry you back to his truck bridal-style. His jacket is draped over you to keep you warm, your face pressed against his neck while one of your hands grips his t-shirt for dear life.

He quickly unlocks the truck, his keys held firmly in one of his hands underneath you, and he lowers you into your seat, carefully buckling you in. He gently shuts the door, coming around to the driver's side. Once he's buckled in as well, he locks both doors, making sure you don't do something stupid in your stupor, like try and open it.

You lean your head back against the seat, holding his jacket over you.

"So dizzy..."

He turns the heat on. "Just close your eyes, baby. We'll be home soon."

You do, wishing the world would just slow down.

Once Nate has gotten you home, he carries you inside, and when he sets you down in the foyer, you slam back against the wall, back to giggling again.

He tries to shoosh you, holding a finger up to your lips, but you gently pull it down, trying to instead shove it under your dress.

He shakes his head. "Are you going to be a naughty girl tonight, then?"

You shrug, but barely, your limbs not entirely cooperating.

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours and you giggle yet again and his hand grips one of your inner-thighs.

He pulls back a little, glancing down the hall, then to you. "Do you want to go swimming?"

You nod enthusiatically, then immediately regret it as you press your forehead against his chest, willing the dizziness away. "Nooooo..."

"So you do or don't?"

"Swim mmm."

He takes that as a yes.

He leads you that way, you nearly falling on your ass halfway down the hall, but he drags you along, despite your stumbling. He grabs a couple beers from the fridge, intending on giving one to you outside.

Once you're in the backyard, he picks you up, slinging you over his shoulder. "Oooh noooo."

"Oh yes," he replies.

Your head slumps, bobbing with every step he takes, until he finally sets you down on a pool chair.

He hands a bottle of beer to you and you can't quite figure out the twist top, so he takes it from you, opening it, then handing it back. He watches in satisfaction as you take a long drink, licking your pretty pink lips.

He kneels down, not even buzzed and reaches his hand between your legs.

You hum with pleasure, closing your eyes.

"Look at me, sweetheart."

Your eyes pop open.

"Do you want to go skinny dipping?"

You nod.

He helps you out of your heels and then your dress, tossing the latter onto the chair you'd previously occupied.

He grips the back of his shirt, pulling it off, then toes off his shoes and socks before he reaches down, unbuckling his belt, and unzipping and unbuttoning his jeans before he pulls them, along with his briefs, off in one motion. You barely get a chance to look over his naked form before he walks the both of you over to the pool. He seats you on the side, your legs dangling in the warm water as he slips in.

He grips your hips, easing you in as well, wrapping your legs around his waist, arms around his neck, and his own arms around you to ensure you don't drown.

You gently lie your cheek against his shoulder, the only sounds to fill the night being the lapping of water, crickets and frogs, and the pool filter humming under the water.

"I love you," he whispers, knowing you won't remember any of this.

"Mmm," is all the reply you can manage, your body shaking with a small laugh.

"You're all mine. Every part of you."

You stay silent, enjoying the bouyant feeling of weightlessness and the warmth of him.

"Can you tell me that, angel? That you belong to me?"

"I..." you giggle. "I belong to youuu."

He hums his approval.

"I'm going to take your virginity tomorrow," he says, tone relaxed.

"Okaaay."

He smirks. You have no idea what he's even saying.

"And when I do, you're mine. Forever."

You only wrap your arms tighter around his neck. "Juuust get the home-" you snicker. "Homework done, 'kay?"

He doesn't say anything as he wades the two of you arond the pool. His studious little angel.

You yawn and he knows it's time to get out then.

You take his hand as the two of you exit the pool. Nate grabs some towels out of a nearby bin, but you laugh when he comes to stand in front of you. He fills with seething fucking rage when he sees that you're looking at his cock when you do it.

"What's so funny?" He asks, hands in fists at his sides.

"I've n-never seen one. In-" You cackle. "real life. It's so-"

If you're about to insult him, he knows he'll snap and do something he'll later regret.

"So preeetty."

All the tension releases from his body. Not quite what he'd been expecting, but he'll take it.

You look up to him with a drunken smile. "I l-like it."

He smirks. "Do you want to touch my cock, sweetheart?"

You nod.

He takes one of your hands in his, wrapping it around his member, which quickly grows harder in your grip.

"Feels funny."

"How?"

"Soft. Like vel-Velveeta."

He knows you mean velvet.

Your strokes are sloppy, unsure. He knows that you have no idea what the fuck you're doing, but it only turns him on all the more.

Just as he begins to consider asking you to get on your knees, he looks toward the house and immediately loses his erection when he sees his dad watching the both of you.

You frown. "What...w-what happened?"

You look up to him.

"You're exhausted. Time for bed."

You hang your head as he wraps your naked body in a towel. "Noooo..."

"Yes, c'mon," he says, taking your hand, grabbing your clothes and his in the other, slipping his shoes back on, handing you yours.

Once the two of you have taken a shower—Nate not wanting his sheets to stink like chlorine—he puts you to bed, lying down beside you, still naked.

Before you fall off to sleep, however, he reaches over, grabbing your phone from the nightstand.

He hopes to God you're not too drunken to answer his next question. "What's the pin for your phone?"

It takes a few tries and a lot of laughing, but you finally give him the four-digit code, which he immediately commits to memory.

And then you drift off to sleep, once again firmly against his chest, feeling safe and happy.

Meanwhile, Nate goes through every single app on your device. He's glad to see you have no social media, minus Pinterest and Letterboxd accounts, neither of which have any messages on them. He browses through your emails, finding nothing of interest.

He next checks your gallery, searching for nudes he's sure he won't find, even checking for hidden folders.

He finds naught.

Finally, after browsing your texts—you only having threads with him, your dad—which you haven't texted with in hardly three weeks, and Lexi—who you left on read Friday when she texted you asking 'what the hell is going on with you and Nate?'—he briefly considers blocking her number, but knows that decision, that action, needs to come from you—he installs an app for tracking your location, syncs it to the very same app on his own phone, and then hides it.

He makes it so that, unless you go into your settings looking through your app list, you'll never find it.

He tells himself that he's only doing it to keep you safe. But he also knows that if he ever catches you with someone else, he'll fucking kill him.

You wake before dawn with an extreme feeling of nausea. You practically jump out of bed—head pounding—and race to the toilet, barely making it as you kneel before it, vomiting up the contents of your stomach.

Nate wakes as well, sitting up, heading toward the bathroom in a panic to take care of you, before remembering that he's naked. He grabs a pair of briefs from the floor, sitting on his bench press as he pulls them on. He comes into the bathroom then, kneeling beside you and pulling your hair out of your way as you continue to get sick.

Once your stomach has calmed, you close the lid, flushing, then lying your head down. "Oh God."

He smirks, running his hand along your naked back. "Hangover?"

"Don't ever, ever, ever let me drink again."

He stands, grabbing a clean washcloth and running it under some cool water before wringing it out and holding it against your forehead.

You merely hum your appreciation.

"I feel so horrible."

"It usually goes down a lot easier than when it comes back up."

You groan.

He presses a kiss to your hair. "Are you cold or hot?"

"Both. My body is freezing."

He stands, grabbing a spare blanket from the foot of his bed, then returning to the bathroom, wrapping you up in it.

"Thank you," you mumble.

And then the feeling hits you again, so you throw the toilet lid open and vomit once more.

It's almost an hour later before you feel confident enough that, if you go back to bed, you won't get sick all over it. Nate puts a trash can on your side anyway.

He'd gone down and gotten you water, a bottle of Gatorade, and some crackers before coming back up and setting them on the table on your side of the bed.

He likes that you now have a side.

While you lie there, facing away from him and instead toward the side that the trash can is on, he also lays on his side, rubbing your back.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"For?"

"Embarrassing you, probably."

"What do you mean?" He asks.

"I don't remember most of it."

His hand stills, but only for a moment. So it worked, he thinks, a sick sense of satisfaction filling him.

"What's the last thing you do?"

You close your eyes. "It's like there's holes in my memory. I remember dancing. I think I went pee. I think...I think I went pee and Cassie was in the bathroom with me?" You pause for a moment and sigh. "I think you carried me to your truck. Did we swim?"

A muscle in his jaw feathers. "Just for a little bit. Then we came up and watched a movie until you fell asleep on my chest."

You hum in response. "Was it The Princess Bride? I think I remember."

He's glad you do, because he sure as hell doesn't, since it never happened. "It was."

"Oh."

You're quiet for a moment, then, "Have you ever been drunk?"

He nods. "A few times. I try not to make a habit of it."

You moan. "That's smart. Smarter than me."

He chuckles. "First time for everything. Including get wasted. Honestly, it's more on me than it is you. You've never drank before and don't know your own limits. I should've cut you off a lot earlier."

You press your face into the soft pillow under your head. "That's a lifetime achievement I could've lived without. But it's not your fault."

You lie your cheek against the pillow then. "How long until I feel better?"

He shrugs. "A few hours, better part of a day. Just depends how long it takes to work its way out of your system."

You take a sip of your Gatorade and chew on a cracker. Once you've swallowed you lie back down.

"Just close your eyes and try and get some sleep, angel."

You nod against the pillow. "Goodnight."

He presses a kiss to the back of your head, curling his body around yours, pulling you back against him. "Goodnight," he replies, even if it's now morning.

#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader) #nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs imagine #euphoria x reader #euphoria x you #i'm so mean to cassie i'm so sorry lmao #i prommy i don't hate her #she's just another one of nate's victims & someone who deserves sm better than the hand she was dealt #lana really went off with 'this is what makes us girls' huh

[twstowo]

Oya oya, i just need angst so... Can I ask for the housewardens that love a gn!reader but the reader don't love them back ? (One-sided love, my beloved)

♡︎Bestie if you want angst, you came to the right person

♡︎Also, I'm separating this into various posts, I hope that's fine.

[Here] ☆ [Azul and Kalim] ☆ [Vil and Idia] ☆ [Malleus]

⋆⋅☆Riddle

Oh, Riddle was so down bad. He tried his best to remain composed when around you, but how could he even do that? As soon as his eyes landed on your figure, he turned into a blushing mess. All he ever wanted was to hold your soft hands, for it to just be the two of you, for him to stare at your face while you smiled softly at him.

He hates to admit it, but he keeps on daydreaming about you. It annoys him so badly since he wants to focus on his studies, but your face keeps showing up in his mind. By that point, he knew that he had to do something about his feelings, he had to confess.

He had planned everything to the last detail, the way that he would confess to you would need to be perfect, and no mistakes could be made. Trey had watched him go through a list of infinite details that he had written down, lose sleep over making a mistake and he even caught Riddle once daydreaming in the middle of his studies. And as his friend, he had to set in and give him a push towards you.

So there he stood, Riddle dressed up, roses in hand, hair brushed back waiting for you to arrive at the place he had told you to come. He had sent you a message to meet him for tea. The two of you would be surrounded by the cute hedgehogs, as he would give you the bouquet with a shy smile, and by mustering all his courage he would look you in the eyes, determination coming back and he would tell you how much he loved you.

“Y/N for the past few days you are the only thing that has ever crossed my mind, I…I love you.”

“I’m sorry…” he hears those words come out of your mouth and he feels his heart stopping, he tries to speak but the words are still repeating inside his head. You were sorry that you didn’t like him back? Even while rejecting him you were being nice. He tries to remain composed even when you try to return the flowers to him he tells you to keep them, they are yours. But it’s not just the flowers that belong to you it’s also his heart, even after you broke it.

He will be a little distant in the next few weeks, but he could never be rude to you. You had every right to not like him back, and he respects that. Even after months have passed, he thinks about you from time to time. He thinks about what things could have been if you had loved him back, and he questions if he will ever get over you, for you made him feel a way that he had never felt before.

⋆⋅☆Leona

Leona would never admit it, but lately, your company has been making him feel weird, and he isn’t dumb to notice what types of feelings are tugging at his heart. He has fallen for you, and hard, even if he would rather never admit it. He tries to remain as uninterested as ever, but how can he do that when you keep bringing him his lunch to the botanical garden, when you lay down next to him and start talking about your day, when you always seem to show up next to him no matter how much he is trying to avoid you?

He gives up trying to run away from you, but his pride is way too big to confess, so he just starts acting as if the two of you were together. He strangely becomes more affectionate, in his ways, and it takes you a while to realize this strange change of behavior. So, as any sane person would, you ask him why he was acting like that.

“I thought it was clear, aren’t we dating?”

“What are you talking about? I don’t like you that way…” he has this bewildered expression. How come you don’t like him that way? You were always so nice and kind to him. Are you like that to everyone? He is so pissed, beyond pissed. Not even Ruggie can deal with his rude ass. He skips more classes, and if he ever spots you, he gets this annoyed expression that scares everyone around him.

He eventually romantically gets over you but even after months, he holds a grudge against you. He really did feel a connection with you, something he had never felt with anyone else. You made him feel as if he could lower his guard down; you made him feel important as if he was your first option. But clearly, he was wrong about you. He was just another person in your life.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst reader #twst x reader #x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #riddle x reader #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts #leona x reader #twst leona #leona kingscholar

[ghouljams]

https://www.tumblr.com/ghouljams/749130351187820544?source=share

SOAP?!

If there is one headcanon that I should not have it's that Soap loves the sun. I know it's funny to think he burns like nothing else but I think he tans(mostly because I wanna lick the lines of his farmers tan who said that)

He's an absolute menace about it in the Cowboy au. While Ghost is out here getting burned, him and Goose are getting a nice glow about them. If no one else is at the farm you better believe he's out working on evening out those tan lines(the vane son of a bitch) especially if he's been told to wait on your delivery...

cw: predicament bondage, public play, outdoor sex, fingering, oral(m!receiving), religion play, dubcon, Minors Do Not Interact

There isn't anyone at the gate to greet you. Which is fine. You're used to doing deliveries when no one is home. That's why you ask for payment in advance. Usually the Price ranch is bustling though. Whatever. You hop out of your truck to open the gate and pass through, making your way down the gravel drive to the main house.

Goose said to drop the goods in the back, so that's what you do. Park in your usual spot out front then hop out to start getting this over with. You grab the bottles of moonshine she ordered off the back of your truck and take the familiar, well worn path, to the back of the house. You're just about to go up the steps to get the bottles settled when you spot him.

Johnny, in all his glory, lays on the porch. His eyes are closed, head tipped towards the sun as its rays cast shallow shadows over his torso. His chest moves with deep breaths, relaxed and enjoying his solitude. Your eyes follow the dark hair that swirls between and over his pecs down his abs and to the soft cock between his legs. You don't think you realized how much hair he had. It's dark over his thigh, between the soft muscle of his abs, over his stomach. You're staring, you know you're staring, but you can't help it. You've never seen Johnny when he wasn't hard, it's not like he spares any sweetness for you, and you'd always sort of wondered... Show-er. It fits him, he's so boastful normally of course he'd have plenty to show off in the locker room.

You snap your eyes back to his face when he moves, pushes himself up onto his elbows with a crooked smile. Your cheeks burn. "Gettin' an eyeful hen?" He chirps at you, and you storm back towards your truck. It's not the sun making you warm, you know that much, but it certainly feels closer to a sunburn than anything else could. True to form Johnny grabs you before you can reach safety, pulling you tight against his chest and curling over you, with his arms around your waist. He forces you to bend and accommodate his weight, your hips hinging back to press against his. You can feel the warmth of his skin even through your clothes, soaked in sunlight and with everything to show for it.

"Now why would you go runnin' off like that?" He hums, his voice all too close to your ear. You shake your head, try to avoid the way he nuzzles close, presses his lips against your neck. The gentleness shivers through you, you have no defense against it. Your fingers tighten on the jugs of moonshine you're holding just enough to remind you you're holding them. Remind you what you're doing here through the fog that is John Mactavish.

"I'm trying to make a delivery," You tell him, "didn't anyone ever tell you not to walk around naked where other people can see?"

Johnny hums against your neck, "You're the first one." You highly doubt that. You elbow him in the ribs and it does shit all. He's solid, barely lets out a breath at your effort. That hurts your pride a little, makes your blood run a little hotter too, but you ignore that part.

"You come to see me?" Johnny asks, like you didn't just tell him what you were here for. You don't rise to his bait.

"Absolutely not!" You bite back, giving him another elbow.

"You sure? Nothin' I can dae to change your mind?" He grinds his hips against your ass and you stiff at the press of his cock. Fucking hell. He's hard at the drop of a hat you swear. You're honestly not sure if Johnny's a man or a dog the way he paws at you.

"Bother someone else," You snap.

"Tell me to get off," He retorts. You- ok, well you don't really have a come back for that. The only one you could think of would be to tell him to get off but there's any number of ways he could spin that. (Not to mention how nice it is feeling him pressed against you like this, all cuddled up nice and warm from the sun. He smells like sunshine and hay, like the cedar of the porch and whatever sun lotion he was using.)

You take too long with deciding your next words and Johnny moves his hand to palm between your legs, dragging your skirt with his greedy fingers. He cups your sex and holds there, his thumb rubbing at the fabric of your skirt as your hips try to figure out which part of him to jerk away from. It's unfortunate how badly just the presence of his hand makes you want to beg. A gentle pressure against your cunt, more than pants, but less than what you want. Your skirt is in the way, you think that might be the issue.

You move to grab your sk- to grab Johnny's hand, and find again that your hands are otherwise occupied by the two jugs of moonshine. Johnny hums, rubs his hand, rubs your skirt, against your cunt. "This what you wanted hen?" He asks, voice a low rumble in your ear, his breath hot against your already burning cheek. He bunches your skirt up in his fist, pulling it up, up, up. Your eyes fix on the open gate so far up the drive, as Johnny's fingers trace over the edge of your panties, your skirt draping over his tattooed forearm.

He's just teasing the skin, feeling over the lace, waiting for you to shudder as chilly desperation rolls over you. He kisses your neck, strokes over your stomach, pinching the soft skin appreciatively. You make a soft pained noise, your hips pushing away from the feeling, back against his cock. You can feel the curve of his smile as he pushes his fingers into your panties. Skates them over your skin and down to rub at your clit. Heat pulses in your core as he pushes lower, peels the sticky satin away from your wet cunt and dips his digits over your entrance.

"Johnny," You huff, trying to keep your voice as far from whining as possible, "I'm holding somethin'."

"Then you better be careful not to drop it," is his even response. His calloused fingers stroke over your cunt, pulling wetness from your leaking hole up to circle your clit. Back and forth. He pulls up to circle your clit once, dips down to circle your entrance. A nice little figure eight going back and forth between where you want him and where you really want him.

You drop your head, watching the blind movement of his hand between your legs like you could get some idea of what his play is. You never know, he keeps you on your toes even on good days. Now your brows draw together in a pout, your hips following the teasing as the circles draw more and more heat in the pit of your stomach. You want him to press inside, you want him to rub your clit until you're shaking, you want him to do anything other than this. You whine the next time he circles your entrance and he stops.

"There she is," He coos, thrusting his finger inside, "can't hide from me, can you?" You shake your head, the way he pushes and pulls, in and out of your drooling cunt, your panties forcing the heel of his hand against your clit, is exactly what you need. You rock onto his finger, feel him curl and stroke at your walls. Thicker than your own fingers but still not enough. One finger just lets you know how empty you are, the grind of his hand against your clit making you clench around the digit as electric heat zips through you.

"You're so loose little nun," Johnny's teeth scrape against your pulse, his hand pulling back to press a second finger into you, "Been servin' our lord on your back, haven't ya?"

"Shut up," You whine. His fingers twist inside you, jab against your sweet spot so your stomach tightens and your fingers slip. The weight of your burden loosens and you rush to keep the jugs from falling. Your fingers tightening as you raise your arms from their place at your side. Hands out of the way you can't stop Johnny from thrusting his fingers into you hard and fast, twisting and stroking with each push. Your eyes roll, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You want to arch into the feeling but Johnny keeps you trapped where you are.

"Not on your back," Johnny tuts, "on your knees then. Warmin' the priest's cock in that bonnie mouth of yours." Your clit throbs at the dirty talk, your hips grinding against his hand for more. He keeps working you on his fingers, the rough drag of his callouses a delicious burn that you ache for more of. If it were his cock...

But it isn't. You chase the tingling heat the zips through your clit, the familiar drag of stimulation, and clench on the fingers that fill you. Johnny drags his tongue over your pulse, kisses your jaw, tugs at your earlobe with his teeth. His hips grind against your ass, a reminder of how his cock must be aching, you can feel it wetting your skirt. Your cunt clenches, Johnny pushes his fingers harder, jabs at your sweet spot until you're moaning. Leaned forwards with your legs starting to shake, and your hips rutting into his touch like a wanton animal. Desperate. You look towards the fence again.

It's a long drive, far from the road, but still. The sun beats down on you hot, and the air breezes past with a lazy pace that makes you wonder if God really is watching(and enjoying). Johnny seems to have similar thoughts.

"You hopin' someone'll see you?" If you couldn't feel his smile you could hear it, all teeth and mean, "Maybe they'd come help me ruin ya, split ya open on two cocks instead of one. Ya like that?" You shake your head and he hums. "No? Thought a whore like you would wanna see how much she can take."

"Just you," You mumble, whimper really, it's pathetic. You can't even think the words that tumble from your mouth, you can't say where they come from. But they seem to focus Johnny, make him hit that soft spongy spot near your entrance with more precision, make him coo in your ear and thumb at your clit.

"Just me hen, just me," He mumbles, softer, more possessive. His free hand travels up to squeeze your tit as he fucks his fingers into you with the same determination he usually reserves for his cock. "Ahm the only one that gets you, only one that can make ya come, and touch ya how ya want." You nod, your muscles starting to lock up with how tight your stomach is turning. The heat is unbearable, unmanageable, your legs shake and your breath hitches. "Come for me darlin', baby, lemme ruin these panties."

You do. You absolutely ruin them. You soak them, orgasm ripping through you and gushing. Johnny moans against your neck as you squirt on his fingers, barely keeping yourself standing as your legs turn to Jell-O. He only pulls his fingers from you to circle your clit, making you jerk into his touch as aftershocks pulse through you. You pant, your eyes unfocused on the world around you as your skirt falls back into place.

Johnny spins you around and you drop to your knees, his stiff cock bobbing in front of your face. The moonshine settled on the gravel you reach to grip his thighs. Warm skin, thick, dark hair. He grips the base tight, slaps it against your lips until you open for him. You don't even get a breath before he's shoving you down to the base. Thick cock stretching out your throat as you try to wiggle closer, tickle your nose with the thick curls at the base. "There you go," Johnny grins, cupping the back of your head, "cannae leave withou' your tip, can you?"

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x reader #f!reader #oc: moon #cowboy au #mdni

[yandere-fetish]

Yandere Patient X Female Reader

Part One

warnings: disrespect, rude, slow burn

Yandere Patient is a highly dignified CEO on his way to one of his many companies from the vast countryside. He's reading the newspaper and catching up on the latest magazines, detailing the latest hot topics and debates. The indifferent expression paired with wire framed glasses only made his handsome face more attractive.

The driver comes to a stop at a stop sign while looking both ways. There's no one around. He turns right to drive towards the city.

Yandere Patient reaches for a small drink out of the mini fridge, then the car jerks.

*SKIIIRRRTT*

*CRASH*

Yandere Patient is knocked out as his legs are disfigured in a gory way. The pain was unbearable, but Yandere Patient was in no condition to feel the pain due to the concussion. His eyes flutter shut as the driver is crawling out the front seat, attempting to check on his master.

Yandere Patient scowls at his uncle's suggestion. He doesn't need anyone to take care of him. He doesn't need an extra person supervising the way he moves or watching his every breath.

Yandere Patient didn't need a babysitter. He's a damn grown man, for God's sake!

"They're not a babysitter. They would live in the servants quarters and tend to your needs. Just treat them like a maid. They would only aid you when you need them to—"

"*scowls* And I won't need them!"

"*sigh* Nephew, there's just some things you need to understand in life, mainly that there's no 'I' in 'team'. You cannot do everything by yourself."

"Tch. Watch me! *wheels away in his new wheelchair*"

"Jenna, *sighs and stares at a picture of his sister* what am I going to do with this kid?"

This is where you come in.

You show up at noon, ready to meet your newly appointed patient after hearing so many coworkers complain about how aggressive and snarky this patient has been since joining their agency as a client.

You really hadn't wanted to take this patient under your wing but since the agency was willing to fire anyone who didn't at least try, so you had to.

The sooner you come, the sooner you can leave.

So, here you are, standing on the doorstep of a luxurious mansion with a thirty-foot driveway. You'd never dream of living in a place such as this, let alone working in one.

Funny how you'd be doing both for a while.

When the door opens, you're greeted by a tall and broad-shouldered with a friendly smile. He welcomes you in while telling you, in detail, about his nephew's accident and his.. preferences.

At first, you're shocked and confused, but nonetheless you agree.

"I'm (Y/N) (L/N) from True Home Care. It's nice to meet you, Mister—"

"*scowls and ignores you* I thought they sent the last one?"

"Now, now, nephew. She's come all the way here. The least you can do is try her out for a day."

"I told you and that cheap company that I don't need anyone's help! I'll be fine on my own!"

"Just give her a chance. I'm certain it'll work out this time—"

*glares at his uncle and wheels away*

"*sighs* I apologize, Mrs. (L/N). He's moody, as you can tell. He should come around with some coaxing."

"I.. I'm sure he's not very open to strangers. I'd feel uncomfortable opening my home to one, especially several. And it's Miss— I'm not married. *smiles*"

"You're not? *clicks his tongue at the thought of an idea* I apologize again. Let me show you to your room for the time being."

It's been a a week since you first arrived at Yandere Patient's home. You've quickly become used to your room that's the size of a living room with a comfy as fuck bed to go with it. The 65" TV was definitely a nice addition, and let's not get started on the en suite bathroom and the walk-in closet.

To say you were happy was an understatement.

Now, though, you had wished you were still in your comfy bed instead of in the kitchen, gathering Yandere Patient's favorite tea.

In the sitting room was Yandere Patient and his uncle. They were once again discussing your presence in the mansion, as if you weren't in the other room. The loud noises made you flinch from time to time, but you just reminded yourself that whatever happens will happen. You've done your job well and that's all that matters.

When you're finished with the tea, you serve Yandere Patient, silently keeping yourself to the side while the two argue again.

After the uncle strikes a nerve into Yandere Patient, he walks out of the house. Yandere Patient is so pissed that he slams his hands on the table, making the teacup jump. You flinch as Yandere Patient fists his hands, his muscular arms flexing in anger as he suddenly begins to try to stand.

You're too late; Yandere Patient is all ready on the floor. He slams his fists into the hardwood, bruising them severely.

You're careful to go to his side, helping him up. Yet, the moment you touch his arm, Yandere Patient automatically shoves you away from him with a scowl.

You end up running into a sharp, marble vase table with nothing on it, luckily.

"Get the hell out of here! You're not wanted, nor needed here!"

"*on the verge of tears* You know what? Fuck you!"

"*bewildered at your sudden back talk* What..?"

"You think I want to take care of some selfish, inconsiderate twenty-some year old brat who only calls his uncle when he has a problem? I'd rather lay on my back and give birth to a child to take care of instead of someone like you! If it wasn't for the high pay, I wouldn't even be here taking this damn abuse! I work damn hard everyday to make sure your needs are met, and what do I get in return? Verbally ridiculed and now physically abused! I don't give a mother fuck if you're rich, handsome, or have power; my job is to take care of you and to only take care of you! If I wanted to care for a whiny and stubborn man, I'd go online and get myself a boyfriend!"

*stares wide eyed at you as you're huffing from anger and pain*

"Now, let me help you get up and to the bath so that I can take a fucking break, Sir."

After wheeling him into the bathroom and helping him undress, Yandere Patient is extremely docile and quiet. There's no protest or stubbornness coming from him, much to your relief.

Yandere Patient, on the other hand, notices how you skim over his body but you don't linger anywhere at all. He frowns, not really understanding why. Looking away as both of you help Yandere Patient into his wide garden tub, you silently tend to his needs.

Yandere Patient apologizes, to which you scoff at but accept his apology.

It's silent while you're helping him dry off and get dressed. Even while you're wheeling him to his bed.

But when you begin to aid him into bed, Yandere Patient notices the bruise from earlier forming into a nasty one.

Since your scrubs were moving to reveal your skin when you bend at an angle, he could see how clearly he had hurt you. Something churns in his heart at the memory of pushing you out of anger, embarrassment, and frustration.

Yandere Patient doesn't realize what he's doing until he's gently touching the bruise on your side.

"*flinches while standing up* What are you doing?"

"I didn't mean to hurt you.."

"It's.. it's all right. I'm not bleeding so there's nothing to worry about."

"*furrows his brows* It's not okay. I went too far. Let me make it up to you."

"Don't worry about it, Sir. There's nothing you need to make up for."

"I insist. I'll treat you to a meal, or a day at the spa? Girls care about their skin, right?"

"*smiles* It's not necessary, Sir. Have a good night. I'll be down the hall if you need anything."

*after you've left*

"I'll make it up to you, somehow.. someway."

Part Two?

#yandere #yandere smut #yandere x female reader #male yandere #obsessive love #obsessive yandere #yandere aesthetic #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere x darling #romance #yandere romance #fantasy romance

[mikachacha]

masc reader x fem bada where team bebe vlogs for their fans and the fans notice reader always in the vlog but it’s like subtle appearances but they can see the closeness reader has with bebe and bada 😚 then reader is accidentally revealed as bada’s gf maybe on swf when she visits

My Girl (Fem! Bada Lee x Masc! Reader)

Synopsis: Fans are becoming more and more curious about you and how you're connected to team Bebe, especially to the one and only Bada Lee.

Warnings: I don't think there are any????

A/N: After 3000 years of inactivity, I decided to be productive 🥹🥹🫶🫶

From vlogs, to quick instagram live and to dance practices, you were always there with team Bebe. People are becoming curious as to who you are, why you're so close to the team, especially with Bada.

"Y/N-unnie! Say hi!" Kyma calls out to you as you enter the studio, bringing them food. You looked at her and the camera she was holding, you realized the girls are doing a mini vlog.

"Hi~!" you waved at the camera and gave them their food. You volunteered to buy them food since they were busy practicing for something and you figured you'd let them relax, especially Bada. You're in a secret relationship with her but you're keeping it as low profile as possible since you didn't want to put unnecessary pressure on Bada considering her career is taking off. You're doing fine on your own, you have a thriving career but far from the spotlight so no one really knows you that much except a few people.

"Wahhh Y/N-unnie is really a boyfriend material if she was a guy.." you heard Cheche say and you could only shake her head in amusement.

"Too bad, I don't have a dingdong." you shot back and the girls laughed. You looked at Bada and nudged her, giving her a bottle of her favorite drink.

"How's my favorite girl doing?" you whisper to her, smiling when you see her cheek turning red from your words.

"I'm nervous, jagiya.. What if we're not ready for the competition? I don't want the girls to be discouraged if we end up failing.." you could see Bada's worries and you gently stroked her hair. When you noticed the camera wasn't pointed near you and Bada's spot, you kissed the top of her head and pulled her in for a hug.

"You'll do great, yeah? I'm sure you and the girls will crush the competition. You're born for this, jagiya. And I'll be there with you every step of the way. You don't have to face this alone, you got me and the team." you reassured her and gave her a quick kiss before both of you interacted with the girls and wreaked chaos in their little vlog.

Schedules have been hectic but you kept your promise to Bada. You were there with them all throughout the competition since you wanted to support your girlfriend and her team after all. You really didn't think anything of it but Bada's and Team Bebe's growing fanbase are growing really curious about you. It was all fun and games until people started flooding your socials, the comments on team Bebe's vlogs and quick instagram live are also flooded with questions as to who you are as well.

"Should we tell them?" Bada asked one time as you both sat together while they were taking a break from filming. You looked at her and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"You know that I don't mind, right? I'm just worried about you.. I don't want to put unnecessary pressure on you as you're already going through a lot." Bada just smiles and rests her head on your shoulder.

"I want to. I want to tell everyone that I have the best girlfriend.." She says and you chuckle, wrapping your arm around her waist.

"Best girlfriend because I let you steal all my clothes to look cool on the show?" You joked and she laughed before sitting up, grabbing her phone and snapping some pictures together. She even kissed your cheek on one pic before she posted them on her Instagram account, tagging your account as well. She captioned it simply with 'My Girl 🩵🩵'. It was simple yet it answered most people's questions regarding your identity and why you're so close with the team and to Bada.

Some people didn't like the announcement but some also loved the relationship you have with Bada. Some fans are even saying that they wanted a girlfriend like you. Hot, supportive and caring.

"I love you, and thank you for being here for me and the girls." Bada says and you just held her in your arms.

"I love you too. I'll always be here to support and care for you no matter what happens. Win or lose." You smile and kiss her forehead. Unbeknownst to you, the sweet interaction was caught on camera and has been posted online. People have divided opinions regarding your relationship with Bada but you could hardly care. As long as you love each other, then that's all that matters.

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #swf2 #swf2 x reader #bada x reader #lee bada #bada lee imagine #bada fanfic

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting angry with my aunt for being uncomfortable with me doing things to show affection to my girlfriend in front of my family at the dinner table?

Could this post be tagged 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ anon so I can find it more easily? Thank you!

(Possible homophobia and transphobia trigger warning)

I (transmasc enby) and my mom went over to my aunt's house for dinner, because family from far away was in town at her place and I wanted to see them. My girlfriend (who lives with me because she moved from far away and we're also very serious about our relationship) came along despite dealing with a headache and neck pain at the time because she wanted to meet the family from out of town (she'd already met my mom and the aunt hosting the dinner before).

At some point after dinner my girlfriend's head and neck pain were really starting to bother her, so she asked for some migraine meds and for me to massage her neck and head to try and ease the discomfort. We didn't leave the dinner table because we were still trying to be part of the conversation, although ultimately she did go lay down on the couch for a bit because it was getting to be too much. Girlfriend and I were kinda stuck because we rode over with my mom.

The next day, aunt bothered my mom a lot and insisted that she let us know how "uncomfortable" we made "everyone". No elaboration whatsoever but she really pushed about it to the point that my mom felt forced to convey the message. Essentially aunt wanted her to tell us that anything besides hand holding was not okay and we made everyone upset, but did not elaborate on what we did wrong. This made my girlfriend cry, and it made me furious (for the record, the next time I spent time with this side of the family all we did was hold hands and aunt still looked at the two of us with disgust so 🤷).

I reached out to her to 1) let her know she was either going to have to tolerate our relationship or cut us off; and 2) try to confirm exactly what it was we did wrong that night so we don't do it again. She told me my girlfriend and I were being inappropriate at her kitchen table because I was rubbing her head and neck, and that we should have either dealt with it where nobody else had to see or gone home (once again, we rode over with my mom so going home wasn't really an option). She insisted it wasn't about us being a queer couple but given that she believes gay people go to hell and has said transphobic things in the past I'm doubtful she's being truthful.

I told her that was such a stupid thing to be weird about, that maybe she should ask questions instead of being immediately judgemental, that it's unfair to ask someone to leave when they're dealing with chronic pain, and that it was hypocritical of her to be weirded out by that when the family was making inappropriate jokes at the table earlier and that was apparently just fine. I admit I also used the opportunity to air out a couple other grievances I had such as: the time she yelled at me for something I didn't do and said very mean things to me because of it at a time where I was not in a good place mentally (she refuses to apologize for this), and her deliberately deadnaming me and using the wrong pronouns to refer to me. I told her if she can't respect me and my girlfriend then I would like if she didn't talk to me anymore. Thankfully she's at least been respecting my wishes in this regard.

Evidently she got very upset about it because she said something to another aunt, who then got angry with me and refused to listen to me, telling me I should just apologize if I made someone uncomfortable (but that's a story for another AITA).

Am I the asshole?

#aita #am i the asshole

[nunalastor]

I was listening to this song: https://youtu.be/NX8InjXV2OU?si=2uV0WVUnfmwh8sV-

And for some reason, my mind turned it into something from Serial Roommates + Dark Forced Family.

I started checking the tags, and found these posts that only gave me more inspiration.

https://www.tumblr.com/nunalastor/747262889398845440/lucifer-seethes-when-he-sees-guy-go-into-alastors?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/nunalastor/747942181663375360/dark-forced-family-serial-roommates-what-if?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/nunalastor/748601558208593920/serial-roommates-dark-forced-family-dark?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/nunalastor/748694178013331456/guy-really-wanted-to-know-why-lucifer-disliked-him?source=share

So now it's everyone's problem.

Little girl, you've no idea what you've got yourself into Fly for a night and think the world's made for you Well, I've tried too hard to see all of my work come undone Better grow some wings real fast

Lucifer was fine with how things were now. He and Charlie had restored their relationship, he was supporting her with the hotel, and even heaven began to get involved, to believe that redemption was possible...but, the method they used, who they sent to show their support...he didn't agree. Guy seemed to feel a little too comfortable visiting hell.

I see the way they look at you with tears in their eyes Soon they'll start to dream of different lives Well I won't let you tempt them They are mine to protect No use reminding them of the past

He watched as Guy approached everyone, talking about his own life before and after arriving in heaven, telling them about how everything would be okay when they were redeemed. His words seemed to give hope to the members of the hotel, but that also included the members of HIS family. There was no problem if it were only the new clients that were arriving after the failed extermination, but it was also targeting Husk, Niftty, Angel and Alastor. Alastor's eyes always glazed over when he heard Guy talk about old times, about a shared past.

You don't seem to quite understand what is at stake This messed up little family that I had to make If I could let them all go home, please know that I would But it'd do more harm than good

Lucifer knew that Guy meant well, and he really wanted to support Charlie, but his family members were off limits. He knew even Charlie and Vaggie would agree with that. He could see how uncomfortable Vaggie was when Guy talked about how wonderful heaven was, and he shared the sentiment, they both came from there after all. And Charlie, he could see how she wanted to be happy and excited, but he could also see how much she wanted to hide her pain at the thought of her family members going to heaven, separating from her, abandoning her (again).

So why don't you fall? Fall, little Wendy Bird, fall Why don't you fall? Fall, little Wendy Bird, fall

He tried to convince Guy to focus on the new members, but the stupid dog was determined to help everyone, especially Alastor. He had to do something. So he tried to scare him away.

Swear it's nothing personal It's a necessary evil Why don't you fall? Fall, little Wendy Bird, fall

His first attempt was to whisper in the ears of those who were against heaven, those who lost someone important in the past exterminations. Without anyone noticing, he made sure to light a flame. The next time Guy left the hotel with Alastor, those sinners tried to attack the angel...he should have known that Alastor would protect him.

Some would say I'm quick to rage And maybe they're right But I can say, for once, I'm thinking clear tonight Wendy, darling, you have picked the wrong girl to fight I will protect what is mine

That attack on Guy, for some reason, only made him more determined to redeem Alastor and the members of the hotel. Guy insisted that everyone, even his attackers, deserved another chance. He said that Heaven had done enough damage with the exterminations, and now he could try to make up for it. Lucifer agreed, seriously, but not if it was his family members, they were his, Alastor was his.

A nasty little spark that must be smothered, snuffed out Setting fires inside my house is just not allowed If ending errant embers is what I must do Then, darling, I'll be coming for you!

He couldn't take risks anymore. Guy went from being a nuisance to being a threat, and he couldn't allow that threat to continue hanging around his home.

So why don't you fall? (Why don't you fall?) Fall, little Wendy Bird, fall Why don't you fall? (Why don't you fall?) Fall, little Wendy Bird, fall

His second attempt was a little more drastic. He made sure to keep Rosie and Alastor distracted. Somehow, subtly, he convinced Susan that Guy was a problem. Honestly, he didn't have to do much to convince her, she didn't like Guy either. And it wasn't difficult for her to convince some members of Cannibal Town that a winged dog would be a great addition to the menu.

Swear it's nothing personal It's a necessary evil Why don't you fall? (Fall) Fall, little Wendy Bird, fall (Why don't you fall?)

He didn't know that Alastor had left a shadow to watch over Guy when he was away. When the cannibals tried to bite him, the shadow protected him. It did this without harming any members of Rosie's community, just keeping them away long enough until Alastor and Rosie arrived. Lucifer realized that Alastor genuinely cared about Guy...this was no longer a game.

(Music)

Lucifer remembered, vividly, how things were before. Like heaven abandoned him. How his wife left him. How Charlie walked away from him once. How Charlie couldn't stop crying for weeks over the loss of Sir Pentius, one of her own, a member of her family. He couldn't let it happen again. Charlie would never lose a member of her family again. He would never lose a member of his family again. They would not abandon him again.

Why don't you fall?! Fall, little Wendy Bird, fall Or did it slip your mind? You need three things to fly Let's see you try when I remove mine

His third attempt was more elaborate. First, he warned heaven, and Guy, that there were anti-redemption groups. Second, he approached those supposed members, whispered in their ears again, more insistent this time. Third, it made the Vees the faces of that movement. Velvette was difficult, but he managed to convince her when some of her best models, for some reason, showed interest in joining the hotel. Valentino was easy, just mentioning how much Angel was progressing along with the revelation that redemption was possible, was enough to send him into a fit of rage. He had an understanding with Vox, they wanted Guy to disappear. Vox also saw how comfortable Guy was in hell. Guy seemed to forget that there were three reasons why he was allowed to come to hell. One reason was Guy's own insistence on wanting to help. The second reason was that heaven authorized the visits. The third reason was that he, as king, authorized his stay. Lucifer has already revoked that permission.

Why don't you fall?! Fall, little Wendy Bird, fall I'm gonna clip your wings Cut your strings Babe you won't Feel a thing Now that you're feeling tall Why don't you... Fall?!

The attack took everyone by surprise, practically the entire front of the hotel was destroyed. Alastor was ready to protect the hotel, but Lucifer made sure that he, and everyone else, was knocked unconscious, but only after they saw those responsible. The faces of the Vees would be etched in the minds of his family members, and they would associate their unconsciousness with Velvette's potions or Valentino's drugs. He stayed out of it, as far as his family knew, he was at a meeting, no one saw him leave his family unconscious, and Vox's drones recorded the moment Vox pulled the trigger, the bullet passing straight through Guy's forehead, the only one conscious, who was close to Alastor, possibly trying to protect him from the attack. The cameras also showed him appearing in time to save the others. He just has to convince the sky that the attack was on the hotel and that Guy was collateral damage. Hopefully, if they send someone else to take Guy's place, they will understand that HIS family is off limits. Those who don't understand it, well, they will have to fall.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #nunalastor asks #serial roommates #dark forced family

[gffa]

“If you want to pull the thread, then pull it.” The tpm showing tonight and the acolyte trailer release had me thinking about “fate” and “the will of the force”. In Ep I, Qui-Gon talks quite a lot about the will of the force: he talks about how finding Anakin was the will of the force, and later on tells Anakin midichlorians enable a Jedi’s connection with the force and that they “continually speak to you, telling you the will of the force.” These reminders and the new lines about fate and the force from the Acolyte trailer had me thinking of one specific scene in TPM: the scene where Qui-Gon pushes the falling die on his bet with Watto for Anakin’s freedom. Perhaps he was right and finding Anakin was the will of the force, but in the end it was Qui-Gon’s decision to do anything about it. To me, the “will of the force” is the trajectory by which the die falls. No more, no less. The midichlorians told him which way the die would fall and he acts to change it. The “thread to pull” is Qui-Gon deciding to shift the die. Luke, when told two different destinies in the OT & the “will of the force”, chooses neither and creates his own. Perhaps he was right that finding Anakin was the will of the force, or it was right that Luke and Vader’s confrontation was fated by the Force but past that are the choices we make. It’s our decisions that affect the galaxy as a whole

This has been the hill that I've been ready to die on for awhile and that I think it's the Jedi's hill as well! One of my favorite things about Star Wars is that destiny seems to exist, that Anakin is the Chosen One, George Lucas has confirmed that he was, but nothing within the story itself really pushes him into a specific path about it. The Jedi don't even bring it up around him (other than Qui-Gon pushes it during TPM, which is part of his case to adopt Anakin late) or if they do, it's often presented that they doubt it. It's not until Mustafar that Obi-Wan says a single thing on-screen about believing that Anakin is the Chosen One. On Mortis, Anakin himself expresses doubt about being the Chosen One, he was clearly not spoonfed that idea or had it pressed upon him that he had to do Something. Whether the Jedi believed it or not, various ones fell into different categories, they left Anakin to his own choices. Destiny exists, but it's your choice what to do about it. I fully believe that Anakin's destiny was to be in that office with Palpatine and to side with the light, to defeat Palpatine there, that's what being the Chosen One was about. But because he had free will to choose, his fears and anger made him choose a terrible path. I do think the Force has a will, it has a direction it wants to go, like a river running downstream, but that when you wade into it, you're still in control of the choices you want to make. You can walk upstream. You can build a dam. You can stand still. You can even get out of the river. Maybe the Force did draw Qui-Gon to Tatooine that day, maybe it didn't, they'll never really know. Maybe it nudged things so that Qui-Gon was in a position to see that dice roll, but then it was his choice to flip the die over to what was a better outcome. Pulling the thread if you want to pull the thread is what all evidence we have on the Jedi already points to believing in. The Force exists and it does have a pull to it, destiny exists. But it's still up to you the individual to decide whether or not to do it. (But I'm fine with people in-universe who misunderstand the Jedi and what they believe in the Force, because that's been something that has hung over them in every single era of Star Wars ever.)

#lumi.txt #star wars #jedi order #meta

[kimquatz]

Musing some thoughts out loud tonight in regards when it comes to making hobby into work wrt personal projects 💭

Idk if y'all other artists have experienced this, but those moments whenever you express that you're interested in working in the entertainment industry to someone, the follow up question is often always like "Do you wanna work on making some big magnum opus/your own show/comic/game/etc.?"

And not that that's a bad thing to ask! A very understandable and normal question actually LOL. But, whenever I get approached with that question, I always think to myself... Not really? (But maybe that'll change in the future, who knows LMAO) And not that I'm afraid of the undertaking or w/e, but simply being a part of the collaborative process and bringing someone's vision to life is just as satisfying to me to be a part of tbh!

The big reasoning, for me at least, is when it comes to my own personal projects though, I want them to remain For Me ykwim? I'm not looking to make them for an audience, or conventionally tell their story in a marketable way. I want my original projects be things I keep as my hobby, to stir around in my brain and chip away at my free time.

And when I say conventional I mean, say for example, telling a whole story how you would expect through a sequential comic. However, I like the idea of simply having a story/world I play around in, and I express bits and parts of the story through different mediums like animation, comic pages, music videos, etc. (Been thinking a lot of how BAKUI goes about telling their original works) Obviously it'd be more difficult for an "audience" to parse the story and puzzle piece it together, but that's fine bc it was meant for *me* to experiment and enjoy LOL.

Plus, turning one of my hobbies into smth bigger than it's supposed to be often would make me hesitate to work on it and put it off more than I would if I was just going about it casually 😭

I realized that was always one of biggest hangs up when it came to my own projects. Beforehand I would keep hesitating like "but I need to make it good! I need to make it presentable! like I'm pitching it like a show to my followers before i can show anyone!" but that's such... an impossible invisible standard sometimes. 💀

I kinda stopped stressing myself over that so much now, and just started Talking about it publicly. Now I've made a lot more progress on my original projects than I ever have before than when I was just silently stewing it in my brain AKSJDLSAK.

#i miss blogging so i am Blogging

[lurkingshan]

Boys Be Brave is a show I want to love. I find the characters endearing, the show has a lot of visual style and great music, the actors are charming and funny, and the plot set up for both romances is intriguing. But some of its storytelling choices are getting in the way for me.

The biggest issue is this show is trying to exist in the nebulous space between a bubble and non-bubble show, and it's not working. It’s distracting that they keep subtextually alluding to queerness being part of the conflict between Jin Woo and Gi Seop but won’t actually come out and say it. Instead they are giving different textual explanations for Jin Woo’s reticence around relationships, like his withholding dad. I think this whole story would work better if they had him openly say he is gay and that is part of his struggle.

This week's episodes were a perfect example of why this is a problem. We have Gi Seop playacting as Jin Woo's ideal type, which explicitly involves feminization, and Jin Woo meeting and going on a date with a girl who fits his ideal type. Am I supposed to be reading Jin Woo as gay or not? Does he actually like girls or is he just trying to convince himself to like a girl? Has Gi Seop only dated girls before because that was his preference, or just because a guy has never asked him out? Is everyone in this show bisexual by default, or does the fact of their same sex attraction matter? Does either of them have any feelings specifically about being attracted to another boy? I have no idea because the show is avoiding the issue, and it's making it impossible to grasp the core of the characters' psychology.

They've basically designed this so you can read it either way, which I'm sure some people will be fine with but I personally find deeply unsatisfying. Choose your story and tell it with conviction! Don't leave your characters and their struggles vague and ill-defined so you can straddle a line that we are long past the point of needing to straddle in this genre.

#well i was even more annoyed about this than i thought #i swear i don't actually hate this show but this choice from the production is really irritating me #anyway balgeum is my blorbo and i want him to have good things #boys be brave #korean bl #kdrama #shan shouts into the void

[schemmentis]

La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 14

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

@janeyseymour's evil is keeping y'all guessing. Mine is making y'all wait for parts to be posted. Sorry not sorry. Love you ;)

Summary: Tensions and the disagreement between you and Melissa rise...

WC: 2k

You do your best to hide the absolute rage that you’re feeling from your girls, sat together at your regular table in the corner, but you're pissed. The longer you sit in the restaurant trying to watch after the twins as your wife is in the back, it brews- not just over the fact that she would make this decision essentially over your own head, but that she would draw your girls into the life- even just this little amount that they have no idea about. It was rule number one from the start: business never comes home. Not after Mickey. Yet here home was, sitting right in the middle of business.

“Yes, sweetheart, that's a zebra you're coloring…purple. Great job, á storin.” You murmur as you glance at a haphazardly colored page.

Rosie beams up at you, and Cat is immediately tugging at your arm to show off what she’s been working on- a lion that she’s colored different shades of pink. Out of the two of them, your eldest twin definitely has better fine motor skills. 

You look back up at the motion of someone sitting across the table from you. You expect it to be Melissa, taking her dinner break. Your eyebrow raises when you see someone else.

“Luca.” You greet as neutrally as you can manage. “What are you doin’ up here?”

“Ah, y’know, pickin’ up take out for Ma.” He answers with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“Your ma gets take out from here?” You ask, incredulously. “Aren't her and Mel sworn off from eating the other's cooking?”

“What she don't know won't kill her,” Luca chuckles softly. He runs a hand through his hair before scratching the back of his neck. “Just don't go tellin’ her, huh? It's my turn to make dinner ‘fore she's home, and I'm runnin’ late.”

“You couldn't bribe AJ to do it for you tonight, huh?” You tease with a small smile. You may be pissed at your wife, and not thrilled at everything else going on. But Luca was still your family.

“Not tonight.” Luca agrees.

“Y’know,” your wife’s voice sounds as she comes to stand at the side of the table, a bag of Styrofoam containers set close to Luca. “You're lucky I don't tell Kristen Marie about this arrangement myself, Luca. What a hell of a brag I could get.”

Luca smiles, getting to his feet as he takes the take out bag in hand. “Yea, ya could but ya love your nephew more than braggin’ on your sister, Aunt Mel.” He says before kissing both her cheeks with a muttered thank you. 

“I’ll see youse at Sunday dinner.” He adds when he pulls away. A hand reaches out to lightly tickle each of your twins to get a laugh. “Be good, tikes.” He says before making his way out of the restaurant.

Melissa drops into the seat Luca left, sighing. “It's a busy night. I think we got more in here than usual.”

Your smile fades as Luca leaves, your gaze falling to your wife. Your anger slowly returns as you remember where you are and why.

“Maybe.” You murmur noncommittally as you look back to Cat and Rosie and their drawings, despite them not calling for your attention. It's rare that you wouldn't want to be looking at your wife when you can. Tonight, though, you know it's just going to simmer your anger. Especially with her acting as if nothing is wrong.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You answer her call for you without looking, helping Rosie's little fingers pull a crayon from the box.

“C’mon, ya can't even look at me?”

You finally turn your gaze back to Melissa, raising an eyebrow. 

“Look, I'm sorry, amore—”

“Don't.” You quickly cut her off. “Not here and not when I know you're saying that just ‘cause you hate me bein’ mad at you-not ‘cause you really mean it. We’ll talk about it later.”

“Yeah, later.” Melissa grumbles as she gets up, stalking back to the kitchen.

Melissa doesn't take her dinner break. You roll your eyes when Val brings out three plates with an apology. You assure her it isn't her fault.

It's when she brings the girls dessert that Val apologizes again, stopping you when you try to tell her not to. “Mel said she's gotta stay late tonight.”

You take a deep breath. Finally, you nod and mutter a thank you to Val. “Tell her to come say goodbye to the girls then.” You add, any pretense of hiding how you feel lost with how your voice sounds. 

It's a few minutes longer than it should be before Mel makes it out. She lingers in her goodbyes to the twins. Kissing each of their little cheeks multiple times and saying to be good for Mam. You cross your arms when she glances to you, not bothering to say goodbye yourself. 

“Mam you didn't kiss Mommy!” Cat is saying as you buckle her into the backseat. 

“Well you don't want cooties, do you?” You do your best to lighten and tease so the girls don't think much of the difference in your goodbye to Melissa, or lack thereof. 

By the time Melissa gets home, you’ve cooled off enough to get the girls into their own beds, after plenty of stories.

You stay up, sipping on wine, until she comes strolling in through the door. 

“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” she tells you as she drops her bag and kicks off her heels.

You roll your eyes, and the anger and hurt that you were feeling earlier comes back when you look at her again. “We’re talking about this.”

“Do we have to tonight?” she groans. “I’m exhausted.”

“And I don’t give a shit,” you say bluntly. “What made you think that you could just go over my head and make the executive decision to bring the girls to the restaurant? What the hell, Melissa. You preach all the time that we’re a team, and that sure as hell didn’t feel like a team effort there.”

“It is,” your wife folds her arms over her chest and raises a brow. Usually, you would find that pose of hers sexy, but not tonight. “I told you my thoughts behind it, and I think we’re doing the right thing.”

“You were the one who created the rule that home and business never meet,” you argue. “And then you go back on it without any regard to my thoughts or feelings on it.”

“And I tried to apologize,” she huffs. “But you didn’t want to hear it.”

“Because I know you aren’t sorry!” you half shout. Then you take a deep breath and sigh. “You know what? Whatever. If you want to mix it, be my guest. But if something happens to either of our girls because of it, know that all of that guilt will be on your shoulders because I tried to stop it. Goodnight.”

You pull the blanket draped over the back of the couch down and over your body before laying down.

“Y/N,” your wife rolls those green eyes of hers. “Come on. Come to bed.”

You just turn over and close your eyes, ignoring her pleas for you to join her in your bedroom. 

Melissa huffs. You expect to hear her trudge off for your bedroom. Instead, you feel her at your back, nudging her way to share the couch with you.

“Melissa Ann, what are you doin’?”

“You won’t come to bed so I guess we’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“The point of me staying on the couch was to be by myself. Alone.”

“Yeah, but we said we’d never go to bed mad at each other, so.”

You roll your eyes. “Right, just like we said we’d never mix business and home.” You retort, shrugging the blanket off your shoulder and attempting to do the same to your wife.

Melissa doesn’t relinquish her arms wrapped around you though. “Y/N. Would you stop and just…talk to me if we’re really gonna go through this tonight?”

“Now you want to?” You say, twisting enough on the couch to get her face within your sight. “Melissa, you deliberately made a choice, completely without me, which you have doubled down on because you think it’s the right one. Isn’t it bad enough that we’re already putting them in danger just by being who we are? Now we’re gonna take ‘em somewhere and make the risk bigger? What, just ‘cause it isn’t too much so it’ll be okay? I’m not willing to gamble their lives like that! You or me, we know what the hell we’re doin’. Nobody can say we don’t. But them?” You point towards the girls’ bedroom, imploring your wife to get it. “They don’t understand why they can’t have cookies for breakfast. They don’t understand what they’d be putting on the line, not even a little bit.”

Melissa takes a shaky breath. “Why are you so up in arms about this? It’s the safest thing right now. You and I both know that the Feds will get off our backs with the girls always being around, and none of the goons are going to touch a hair on either Cat or Rosie’s heads because they know if they did, there would be hell to pay on all sides.”

“You don’t know that!” you hiss at her. “They ordered a hit on Bobby for somethin’ he did years before they killed him off- an’ he didn’t even deserve it. Who’s to say that they aren’t going to sink that low to get back at one of us?! Or to get us out of the way and to keep La Cosa Nostra up and running?! Melissa, if something happened to you or either of the girls, I would not be able to make it through. La Cosa Nostra would fall to the ground, and so would I. Do you not understand that?”

“We knew the risks we would have to take when we got into this business, and we knew exactly what risks we were bringing to the girls when you decided that you wanted children!” your wife points an accusatory finger at you.

“You and I both know that you were just as excited to have those two as I was, so do not pin this on me!” you seethe. “And I know you chose this life, but I did not. I got mixed up in it young, and I never wanted it to begin with! I certainly do not want our girls to get involved in it either!”

“You didn’t have to stay in this life!” she argues. “You chose to.”

“You know what?” you huff as you stand up abruptly, nearly knocking your wife to the ground in the process. “I’m done talking about this for now. I’m over it.”

“Listen,” Melissa grabs your wrist. “I’m sorry they took the salon out from under you, I’m sorry they handed the business over to me because they trust me more, and I’m sorry that you’re feeling like you aren’t contributing to the family anymore, but you do not get to just be a bitch like this!”

You rip your arm out of her grasp. “I’m the bitch?! I’m the bitch! I’m not the one who went over your head and gave the ledger to Barbara Howard- a rookie move! I’m not the one who disregarded everything and mixed our girls up with the business- despite the fact that we vowed to never do that! But yeah, okay… I’m the fuckin’ bitch. Don’t even try crawling into bed with me tonight.” You storm your way to your bedroom, locking the door as you slam it shut hard enough to shake the entirety of your little townhome. 

And then you absolutely lose it. You begin to curse the day that you ever stepped into that blasted salon. You wish you never got caught up in all of this, and you would’ve taken the out that you had been offered years ago. Maybe in another life you would’ve found your way to Melissa and fallen in love, having the blissful, domestic life that you had dreamed up when you were a kid. But now, you’re in deep, and you know it.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfiction #la cosa nostra #collab fic

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Will Halstead (Ft Platonic! Jay Halstead): I'll Call Will 

This was supposed to be short! Why can’t I ever just write a page or two? Oh well- I like how it turned out. I have no medical knowledge and I made shit up.

This is like my People We Love story reversed regarding it being more Platonic Jay x reader than Will x reader.  

You shift and feel Jay’s eyes shoot to you. He had been eyeing you like a bomb that was about to explode since he got to your and Will’s apartment two hours ago. You were trying to ignore him and his detective's gaze, but it was starting to get irritating. “You know if you keep it up, I’m going to take your fun uncle shirt and replace it with a worry wart one.” 

“You’ve been having cramps off and on since I got here, and you don’t look like you feel good.” You roll your eyes at your brother-in-law affectionately. Shooting him an amused look from across the couch and resting your hand on your prominent baby bump. 

“It must be that glow everyone talks about. I'm almost seven months pregnant, Jay. Braxton Hicks is normal.” What you don’t want to tell him as they had been becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. You hadn’t gotten off the couch since he got here because you felt lightheaded with a side of vertigo. “I went to the OB last week for an appointment. They said everything was just fine. No problems, no restrictions.” You tell him and remind yourself.  

You were trying to take the pregnancy in stride. People had babies in fields for years but it didn’t mean you didn’t get nervous sometimes. You had never been pregnant before and didn’t know what to expect and you had learned the hard way that Will was not the one to ask. He was a wealth of information. Too much information. It often made your anxiety worse after talking to him rather than better. He had too many horror stories from the ED.  

Jay looked unconvinced but dropped the subject and went back to watching the trashy TV show you had turned on. The two of you watched another episode and a half with rounds of minor cramping on your part. The commercial was just ending when a cramp so painful jolted through your belly that it made you grab at it and whimper. When you blink Jay is in front of you. He looks angry but you have known him long enough to know it was actually worry clouding his features. “Okay that’s it we are going to the hospital.” 

“Jay, I don’t think-” He doesn’t even let you finish your thought. 

“You either let me take you to the hospital right now or I’ll call Will.” You search Jay’s eyes. “Your choice.” He is clearly over it and reaches for his cell. You can just imagine your husband after a call like that. He would leave work and speed home in a mad dash to get to you. You would feel so bad if he did all that for a few Braxton Hick contractions.   

“Okay! Okay, fine, let’s go.” Jay wastes no getting you to your feet and out of the apartment steering you to his car. “Just what the world needed another Doctor Halstead, Will will be so proud.” You tell him before Jay rolls his eyes and closes the car door. 

You sit in the hospital bed waiting for the OB to come back.  Your doctor was out today and the woman that came in was all warm smiles and a reassuring tone. She must have been new because you didn’t recognize her or her name. “It looks like the cramping is just Braxton Hicks. It’s completely normal and nothing to worry about.” You looked over at Jay who had been lurking near the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“What? It was better to get you checked out just in case.” Jay’s tone is defensive, and you roll your eyes lovingly at your brother-in-law. The OB smiled at him and patted him comfortingly on the arm. 

“It is a good thing that he brought you in.” You look at the woman in surprise because her tone goes serious. “Your blood pressure is much higher than I would like. Have you been under more stress than normal lately?” You sigh as you begrudgingly tell her about your increased workload. “Have you been feeling more fatigued than normal? Lightheaded, dizzy, or any vertigo?”  

“I’m almost seven months pregnant, isn’t feeling off kind of normal?” You put your hand on your rounded stomach protectively. 

“It can be but with your blood pressure being so high it’s concerning. I’m going to order a blood panel just to be on the safe side. Now, let’s take a peek at this baby.” The ultrasound is all normal. the OB points out your baby's face and hand. You look over at Jay who is watching the screen in awe. He had seen the pictures, but this was a new experience. He breathed a quiet wow as the quick heartbeat of the baby filled the room. “It all looks good. It shouldn’t take long for that panel then you will be good to go.” 

A familiar nurse that you can’t name comes in and draws your blood. “Maybe I should message Will and let him know we are here.” Jay pulls his phone out of his pocket and begins typing. 

“Why so he can wait with us? He is working- leave him alone. Besides that was our deal, wasn’t it? There isn’t an emergency.” Jay holds his hands up in surrender. “And will you sit down please- your pacing is driving me crazy.” Jay flops into the chair giving you a ‘happy now’ look. “Geez, it’s like having a real brother.” 

“Yeah, and you're stuck with me. You and that bean, you got growing.” 

You smile caressing your stomach, “I’m good with that.” As much as you had fought him on it, it was nice to know that he cared enough to drag you to the hospital. Jay was protective and you knew he was going to be a lot more than just the fun uncle who only stopped by when he felt like treating your kid to a good time. “Can I ask you something?” At his nod, you continued, “Why were you at my apartment at 2 in the afternoon on a day you knew Will worked a double? Did Will ask you to check up on me?” 

“No,” You gave him a look of disbelief, “No, really, he didn’t. He didn’t ask me to come over or anything like that. He just mentioned that he thought you may not have been feeling good the last few days. So, I just wanted to make sure that you were- Are you crying?”  

You were.  

You had big crocodile tears running down your cheeks, “It’s the hormones. And honestly, that is just the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” More tears streamed down your face and Jay looked uncertain of what to do. When he saw a strategically placed tissue box, he grabbed it and held it out to you. You grabbed a few and started dabbing at your eyes. Your own family hadn’t been part of your life much since you had moved to Chicago. Not that they had been very good to you throughout your childhood into your twenties. You felt like you looked out for them more than they ever would for you. “I hope you know that I appreciate you and I’m so glad you are going to be in this baby's life. I love you, Jay.” He looked a little miffed but flattered as he rubbed your back soothingly.  

“Of course, I love you too.” 

You had gathered your raging emotions by the time the OB had returned. “Alright, everything looks good. I’m not going to put you on bed rest, but I highly encourage you to take it easy for the next few days.” You thank her and swing your legs over the bed to start the process of getting up, which is much harder now with a protruding belly. The woman paused in the doorway before turning and taking another step back into the room. You and Jay both look at her. “You know, another good natural way to get your blood pressure down is by having sex. I don’t see any problems with you having sexual activity right now. And with the looker you got- I would take every opportunity you get before the baby is the one keeping you up at night.” The doctor gives you a knowing wink before exiting the room. 

You look over to see a mortified Jay. His eyes were closed tightly, and he brought his hand to scrub down the bottom half of his face. The woman had barely made it out the door when you started laughing uncontrollably. When Will walked into the room less than a minute later and looked at you in bemusement as you tried to catch your breath. “Everything okay?” 

You immediately sober, “I told you not to bother him!” Will walked over to your bedside and helped you shuffle off the bed. His hand came to rest in its now familiar place on your stomach.  

“He didn’t, Maggie saw your name on some bloodwork. Are you okay? Everything okay with the baby?” Will’s face was furrowed with concern. You put your hand over his stroking your thumb across his knuckles.  

“Everything is fine. I had some cramping and Jay took me in to be on the safe side. It was just Braxton Hicks.” Some of the tension left Will but you can tell he is still on alert. “My blood pressure is a little high. But don’t worry, the doc thinks it is just from stress. She told me I should take it easy for a few days and gave me a few...natural ways to bring it down.” Will furrowed his brow trying to think of what you could be referring to. Then he turned when he heard Jay cough and mutter something under his breath. Will looked between the two of you knowing he had missed something.  

You give him a soft smile, “I’ll explain later. But really, don't worry, okay. I’m just going to spend the day on the couch watching Love is Blind. Taking it easy and relaxing, just like she said.” You push up on your toes and oblige you by leaning down for a kiss. “Now, I really have to go to the bathroom.” You say as you make a beeline for the public bathroom down the hall.  

“Is she really, okay? It must have been pretty bad for her to feel like she needed to call you.” Will looked even more worried after you left the room. Jay rested his hand on his shoulder to comfort his older brother. He knew that Will had been trying his hardest to keep all of his own worry as a doctor from bleeding into you. He had been trying hard to do everything at your pace and not overstep the line of future dad to doctor. It hadn’t always been a struggle he won. It didn’t help that you hated hospitals and felt like less was more when it came to OB appointments. You had a tendency to cancel and never reschedule them much to his frustration.  

“She’s okay. I was actually already over there. She started getting some cramping and I kind of forced her to come here to get checked out.” A guilty look crossed Jay's face. 

“Forced her?” Will found that hard to believe. It was like pulling teeth to force you into doing anything. You had a stubborn streak to match the Halstead clan. 

“Well, more of an ultimatum really. I told her she could either agree to come in or I'd call you.”  

Will hummed in understanding, that sounded way more plausible. “You were already over there? I thought I told you I was working a double.” 

“You did.” Jay agreed, “You also told me she had been feeling well.”  

The gratitude that Will felt for his brother at that moment was overwhelming. “Thanks, man. I’m glad you were there. It means a lot.” 

“You would have done the same for me,” Jay stated simply, “Besides that what you do for family.” He sighed heavily, “That’s why after I buy her the pizza she has been talking about for the last hour, I’m going to sit down on the couch with her and watch that trash she calls TV. I’ll make sure she is all good until you get home.” 

#chicago med #chicago pd #will halstead #will halstead x you #will halstead x reader #will halstead imagine #jay halstead #platonic jay halstead

[deliciousdefendorinternet]

Barb and Crimp are not Redeemed characters and its odd how their films gave them happy endings.

lets start with Barb for one she led armies attacking other Tribes destroying cities and imprisoning countless people all so she could get the strings.

and wipe out all other cultures deciding only her own should Remain and anyone who didn't conform to that culture would be turned into a brainwashed zombie. some people try and argue she has good intentions but frankly her intentions aren't all that good compared to everything she did and this wasn't even a problem in the first place its not like all the Tribes were at war or anything.

they were fine living separately so combining the Tribes is a nice idea but going to these extremes is not excusable in any sense given there was no legit reason for her to take such extreme action. and in the end she gets beaten she doesn't have a last minute change of heart and decide to do the Right thing ( tho to be clear this wouldn't mean it would suddenly be okay for her to face no consequences one posotive I'll say about Veneer's arc in TBT is that he was still held accountable in the end despite having a last minute change of heart because Redemption doesn't mean someone gets let off scott free if anything it means the opposite )

and after her defeat Barb is instantly forgiven for no legit reason like I know story wise you could argue its because she's queen and they don't want more conflict with the Rock Tribe. but from a basic story point of view its wrong especially for a kids film Barb isn't only let off scott free but Poppy light heartedly befriends her. and makes it clear there's no ill will so yeah showing a film where a villain who causes this level of destruction simply because they believe they are right is let off scott free is not very satisfying story telling imo.

and its bad in a kids film Teaching lack of consequences and accountability for your actions no matter how bad.

like don't get me wrong I like Barb personality wise and that's deffo why a good chunk of the fandom don't have a problem with her being let off the Hook.

but obviously villains being likable doesn't mean they shouldn't face consequences loads of people love Velvet but most of her fans can accept that she deserved to go to prison at the end for kidnapping and torturing someone. and then there's Crimp she's less of a bad example but still an example she went along with kidnapping and torturing someone simply because she didn't want to lose her Job. she came and went as she pleased only being held against her will right at the end and just because her bosses were mean to her doesn't mean she isn't still a villain. the movie acts like this makes her a victim and someone who shouldn't be blamed for V and Vs crimes when frankly yes she should she was complicit. she turned a blind eye to someone's suffering because she didn't wanna lose her pay check she's just a cowardly Henchmen not an out and out victim.

and she should have still been held accountable in the end for being an accomplice.

and I'm sorry but to circle back to my guy Creek the morality of the movies is all over the place in this regards. the fact that the movies consider characters who actively chose to do evil things of their own free will as still redeemable and deserving of happy endings. even with no actual work put in to better themselves yet Creek the literal Hostage tortured and threatened into doing a bad thing was lumped in with the actual big bad villain in the end. and was seen as deserving of a gruesome comeuppance is frankly a Horrifying sense of morality and justice in my opinion.

yes he came back in the tv show but I'm only talking about the movie cannon.

and this way of thinking in Regards to what villains do and don't deserve to be Redeemed is Honesty arsed backwards. characters who do evil things because they decided that they should get to make choices that effect and change other Tribes filled with large populations of people simply because they think their culture is better than other people's. and characters who do evil things simply because they don't want to lose a Job no matter how much they may need it are infinitely worse.

than a character who simply gave in to the very human fear of not wanting to die horrifically and who was basically forced into the role of villain due to having literally no other option other than lie down and die. I love Trolls but man these movies have a terrible sense of morality and they do not do Redemption Arcs well. 😅😅😅😅

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls dreamworks #trolls 3 #trolls world tour #trolls barb #trolls crimp #trolls creek #trolls creek defence #trolls 2