#i know that for however long i chose to read i'm in the head of a deeply perturbed individual and i basically just accept whatever fucked up

[thesmokinpossum]

I hate Vickery but honestly I have to be on him on the whole *disturbed and disgusted face* “you of age son?” like I disagree with you on everything else mr. police abut this was indeed nasty af

[thef1diary]

Little Big Blurb

— Braid Bonding

Max wants to learn how to braid his Bella’s hair

Series masterlist

wc: 1.5k

Based on this request

By now, you and Isabella had established an organized morning routine that helped avoid any problems before you dropped her off at school. You would style Isabella's hair every morning while she was eating breakfast.

There were a few days where she wanted a fancier hairstyle, but most of the time she preferred two braids. The amount of times you've braided her hair, you were certain that you could do it with your eyes closed.

However, you didn't realize that while you knew how to complete the task perfectly, Max did not.

You're standing behind her, gently brushing her long dark strands. "That tickles, mama," she giggles, tilting her head forward to escape the tickles from the bristles of the hairbrush.

You chuckled at her antics and replaced the brush with your fingers for a moment, grazing against the back of her neck to purposely tickle her.

"Maxy! save me," Isabella called out, making grabby hands at him while attempting to dodge your fingers that slid down her sides, tickling her brutally. Her laughter filled the room like a melody, brightening your smile.

Max chuckled at the playful scene unfolding before him. He watched with amusement as Isabella tried to escape your tickles, her laughter echoing through the room.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming to the rescue!" Max declared with a grin, stepping closer to join in the fun. He gently grabbed your hands, trying to stop your relentless tickling.

Isabella squirmed between the two of you, still giggling uncontrollably. "Maxy, help me! Mama's being a tickle monster!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy.

You and Max shared a knowing look before relenting, releasing Isabella from the tickle attack. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her laughter, before flashing you both a bright smile.

"Okay, time to finish up your hair, angel," you said, picking up the hairbrush again and gently untangling her locks. Max watched with interest as you deftly divided her hair into sections and began braiding it into two neat plaits.

As you finished braiding Isabella's hair, Max leaned in closer to observe your technique.

"Thanks, mama!" She wiggled off the chair to look at herself in the mirror. One thing about your daughter was that she needed her hair to look as close to perfect as possible. Perhaps that habit was from you as well.

"You’re welcome, Bella, now c'mon you don't want to be late," you urged her to finish her breakfast.

"Mama, I can never be late," she chuckled but you raised your eyebrow, "and why's that?"

"Because of Maxy!" She cheered before cutting another bite sized piece of the pancake she was eating.

Your gaze shifted to your boyfriend, eyeing him with judgement. "You don't speed, do you?"

He was quick to shake his head, "not at all." You turned to look at your daughter when you heard her giggle and cover her mouth to muffle it.

"Just be careful, please," you told Max, and his smile widened, walking closer towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Always. I got precious cargo in the backseat," he muttered before pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Hey!" Isabella ran towards both of you, hugging your legs with a giggle leaving her lips.

You bent over and picked her up, letting her join in on the hug. "Don't forget me, Maxy," she added. Max cradled her chin and pressed a kiss to her cheek as well.

Soon enough, Max and Isabella were out of the door, with her lunch packed, giving you some time to yourself. Filling up a mug of coffee, you chose a book for the day and cozied up on the couch.

Immersing yourself into the book, you hadn't realized when Max returned until he spoke, "what are you reading?"

Startled, you looked at him leaning over you from behind the couch, "shit, you scared me." You showed him the cover of the book, which was undoubtedly another romance novel you picked up.

"We've got to do something about your lack of awareness of your surroundings," Max commented, sitting next to you. "Shut up," you rolled your eyes playfully while smacking the novel against his arm.

You snuggled up next to him and continued to read your book. That is, until Max pulled out your hair tie and brushed his fingers through your hair. "Can you teach me?" He muttered.

"Teach you what?" You placed a bookmark on the page before placing the novel down on the table in front of you and looked at him.

"Teach me how to make braids, I want to learn for Bella." Your gaze didn't waver away from him, stunned at his thoughtful words. He squirmed in his spot, wondering if he said the wrong thing which is why he shrugged his shoulders, "if I can," he added quietly.

"Of course you can." You pressed a kiss to his cheek before standing up and getting a hairbrush and a comb.

You sat comfortably in front of him, feeling a mix of anticipation and affection. Max took a deep breath, his fingers hovering uncertainly over your hair.

"Okay, so, uh, how do we start?" Max asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.

You smiled reassuringly, reaching back to guide his hands into your hair. "Don't worry, baby, you'll do great. Let's start with one braid so divide my hair into three equal sections," you instructed, gently demonstrating the process as you spoke.

As Max followed your lead, you could feel the warmth of his hands against your scalp, his touch tentative yet determined. He carefully divided your hair into sections, his fingers fumbling slightly but gradually gaining confidence with each movement.

"Like this?" Max asked, looking to you for approval.

"Perfect," you replied with a smile and even though he couldn't see your face, you knew he could hear it in your tone. "Now, all you have to do is cross the sections over each other, alternating between left and right."

With your guidance, Max began braiding your hair, his movements slow and deliberate as he focused intently on each step. You could feel the gentle tug of his fingers as he weaved the strands together, his concentration palpable in the quiet of the room.

As he reached the end of the braid, Max let out a triumphant sigh, a proud smile spreading across his face. "I did it!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with accomplishment.

Once he placed a hair tie at the end, you turned to face him, your heart swelling with pride. "You did amazing, love. I'm so proud of you," you said, pecking his lips briefly.

He had a sheepish smile on his face, "can I try again?"

You chuckled, "of course, let's try two this time?" He quickly nodded, turning you around before undoing his first masterpiece.

The time flew by as Max braided your hair over and over again. You picked up your book again because he didn't need any help after the first couple of tries.

Once he practiced enough times with your hair, he believed that he was prepared to try the techniques on Isabella's hair.

The next morning, as Isabella sat at the kitchen table enjoying her breakfast, Max approached with a determined look on his face. Armed with newfound confidence from the previous day's lesson, he was ready to take on the challenge of braiding Isabella's hair himself.

"Hey there, princess, how about I do your hair today?" Max suggested, a hint of excitement in his voice.

Isabella looked up from her cereal, her eyes widening in surprise. "Really, Maxy? You're going to braid my hair?" she asked, a mixture of skepticism and anticipation in her tone.

Max glanced at you and once he received an encouraging nod, he too nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across his face. "Absolutely! I learned from the best, so I think I can handle it," he replied, trying to mask his nerves with bravado.

Isabella giggled, delighted by his eagerness. "Okay, Maxy. Let's see what you've got," she said, leaning back in her chair and offering him a playful grin.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Max picked up the hairbrush and began to carefully brush Isabella's long dark strands, just as he had seen you do countless times before. He divided her hair into two sections before dividing those into three equal sections, his hands steady as he focused intently on the task.

With each twist and turn of the braid, Max's confidence grew, his movements becoming more fluid and assured. As he reached the end of one braid, he tied it off with a small hair tie before working on the next one.

When Isabella ran towards the mirror to check her hair, Max held in his breath and only let it out in relief when she returned with a giddy smile on her face, holding two thumbs up.

"You did it! It looks so good!" She exclaimed, running back to him and knocking his breath out with a hug.

His heart beamed with pride and he smiled widely, "thank you princess."

As Isabella continued talking, now speaking of all the different hairstyles Max can learn, he looked at you, nodding his head in appreciation for teaching him a skill that brought him even closer to your daughter.

Taglist: @keerysfreckles @d3kstar @xjval @hc-dutch @the-untamed-soul @multi-fandom-fan221b @lilymurphy03 @shreks-best-tits @nessacarty1 @ldynblack @lighttsoutlewis @ur-fave-ave @namjoonswaifu @llando4norris @dark-night-sky-99 @majx00 @xoscar03 @wonnou @samantha-chicago @mlioravanfleet

[thesecretwriter]

LOVED the fanfic about Miguel. I need one with him being feral at the thought of wife!reader leaving him because he is being neglectful and is almost never home with her. Please, please, pleaseeee. I would love to read this.

P.S add smut if you want to😗

home is where you are (part 1) - miguel o’hara

pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!female reader

warnings: angst – reader tells miguel she needs a break from his absence, fluff – I think is it?? , smut – minors dni. smutty undertones, no smut described but miguel is being suggestive.

summary: in which y/n, wife of Miguel O’hara finds herself spending more time in an empty apartment that in the company of the man she chose to spend the rest of her life with.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: thank you for the request anon, I enjoyed writing it. I didn’t write smut bc the fic was already long and I am a bit tired, butttt maybe a part 2??

minors/ageless blogs dni.

masterlists  

part 1, part 2, part 3

"I’m home, mi luz,"

The nickname he has reserved for you tugs at your heart. He explained to you that you were the light in the darkness that consumed his heart within the chaos of being Spiderman.

You look in the direction of Miguel's voice and sigh "well, that's a first," you mutter to yourself before getting off the couch walking towards Miguel.

You had spent the whole day rehearsing what you were going to say to Miguel.

You lean against the counter as Miguel leaves the packet with a logo from a Chinese take away not far from your shared apartment.

Miguel approaches you, his eyes dark and intense. His expression is unreadable, but you can feel a sense of discomfort growing within you.

"Did you miss me mi corazón?" he asks in a low voice, his eyes scanning your body as he comes closer to you.

"Well, for me to answer that question you would have to be around enough for me to miss you. So, no I did not miss you," you say, upset that he had the audacity to question if you miss him when he is not even at home most of the time.

You stay where you are leaning against the counter with your arms folded. Miguel takes this as an opportunity to cage you between his arms as he towers over you.

His eyes are fixed on you. He leans forward till he is a few centimetres away from you.

"You know that's not true mi luz. You miss me. And I miss you too, baby. I've been thinking a lot about you all day." he says, his tone suggestive and a glint of desire in his eyes.

"If you were thinking of me so much, then maybe you would be home more often. I've been wanting to talk to you about something..." you trail off nervous and avoiding eye contact with him. Miguel picks up the change of your attitude and tilts his head to the side in curiosity.

Any other day you would think that it was adorable of him to do such a thing, but now it ticked you off that he was so oblivious.

Miguel notices your nervousness and his expression turns serious. "What is it? What do you want to talk about, y/n?" he asks, his voice firm. The use of your first name is your first warning of Miguel being serious.

He is still leaning in close to you, however, you can now tell that he is tense from your nervousness.

"I want to take some time off... from us," you blurt out, wanting to get this conversation over with. Miguel takes in your words.

You want to take a break from him? the one who has the weight of the world on his shoulders. His brows furrow in confusion, but also anger.

Miguel moves closer to you, his body now pressed against yours. He leans in close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Why would you want to do that, mi vida? Don't you know how much I love you?" he whispers, his lips dangerously close to your skin.

His taunting is what gets to you. Here you are trying to tell him what you needed, and he is retaliating by trying to seduce you.

"I don't feel your love anymore Miguel. You're barely home. I wake up, you're not here. I go to sleep, you're not here. Sometimes you even leave in the middle of night when I'm asleep. I understand that the spider society is important to you, but once upon a time so was this relationship. I cannot keep living like this by having moments with you." you say, getting angrier as you speak.

Miguel notices the unshed tears in your eyes.

Miguel's expression softens for a moment as he looks into your eyes, seeing the pain and tears hidden behind them.

He knows he's been distant lately, but that's all because he's been putting in more time fighting crime around the city as Spiderman and travelling to other dimensions to help other Spider-Man/women.

"I'm sorry, mi luz. I promise to make it up to you. I'll take some time off, for just the two of us." he says, his voice sincere as he tries to reason with you.

"And then what? while we're spending time together, you'll get called into HQ and will leave me alone. It’s happened before Miguel. I already packed enough clothes for me to spend a week with at a friend’s house," You put your hands on his chest to push him away and go to get your phone to call your friend to pick you up.

Miguel feels his chest tighten at the thought of having you away from him. You're slipping through his fingers, and he must do something about it before he loses you completely.

Miguel takes a step forward, blocking your path to the phone. His eyes flash with anger.

"You're not going anywhere, y/n. You're delusional if you think I'm just going to sit back and let you leave me. We're married, you made a vow to me. Do you know how hard I've been working to protect this city and the people in it? Do you have any idea how much pressure I'm under?" he says, his voice rising in frustration.

Before you can respond, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him. He presses himself against you, his hands roaming over your body as he begins to kiss you. You try to resist and push him away, but he's too strong. He continues to kiss you until you finally give in, allowing him to lead you to the bedroom.

You pour all your emotion into the kiss, letting him feel the heartbreak and anguish you have every time he forgets about you.

You're too consumed in the kiss to notice that Miguel is already beginning to take off his clothes. He breaks the kiss to take of your shirt and you see that as an opportunity to interrupt him.

"Miguel stop, not everything can be fixed with-" his lips stop you from speaking as he goes back to kissing you. All you're left in is your bra and panties, which Miguel still feels is too much of clothing.

You feel his lips trailing kisses down your neck as his palms knead at your breasts. His talons poking you ever so lightly, but it’s nothing you haven't felt before.

Your moans only urge Miguel on. He thinks back to the moment he saw the unshed tears in your eyes, the moment you almost left him.

Soon, he comes to the revelation that the only way to keep you here, with him - is to breed you.

It's something you and him have previously discussed. However, with him being away so much, it slipped his mind how he wanted nothing more than to watch you bare his child.

Miguel continues to kiss you passionately, his touch becoming rougher as he begins to undress you completely. He pins you down on the bed, his muscles exposed in the dimly lit room. You can see the taut muscles in his arms as he looms over you.

"Don't fight it, mi luz. I'm giving you what you've always wanted from me," he says, his voice low and husky.

Miguel continues to hold you down and have his way with you. You can't bring yourself to fight resist him anymore, your lips move with his and you feel the spark that is always present within you when Miguel kisses you.

For a moment, you see a glimpse of the caring and loving man you married. He is still there, underneath all the coldness that has consumed him.

[sunkissedchld]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒍𝒍 𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

the piles go from left to right. therefore, pile one has the silver airpods, pile two is the pink cord phone, and so on and so forth.

take your time to use your intuition to choose the pile that will best resonate with you. lastly, please don't be afraid to say if the message resonated or not; it helps me in determining if my interpretations are correct or not, and i appreciate any sort of feedback - even if it's "bad".

this PAC is a collab with @icanseethefuture333, so be sure to check out their post also!

good luck to you, reader 🌷

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈

Signs:

"i don't forgive you", harboring anger towards someone, heavy fire (aries, leo, sagittarius) in birth chart, red, passion, danger, hera, broken marriages/family, non-committal, metatron, spiritual power, turtles, tigers, turkeys. broken headphones, "you're not listening"

Shufflemancy:

"Montero (Call Me By Your Name)" by Lil Nas X

"Another One Bites the Dust" by Queen

"Blow Us All Away" from Hamilton the Musical

"Intro" by J. Cole

"Angels We Have Heard on High" by Pentatonix

"Sorry, I Love You" by Stray Kids

Cards:

Four of Cups, Knight of Cups (Rx), Six of Swords (Rx), Two of Wands, Five of Wands, Seven of Coins, The Fool (Rx), Turtle (Rx), Tiger, Turkey

Reading:

For those who chose pile one, one lesson you will encounter will be in regards to you seemingly sitting on the sidelines in life. At one point, you may feel disconnected and apathetic about life; you may think, "what's the point of doing what I'm doing if I'm not seeing any results for it." There will be times when people will try to help you enjoy life more instead of being moody and unhappy with what you're doing, but J. Cole says it best when he asks, "do you wanna be happy?". Someone might literally ask you that (or people have done so in the past), and you often say "no" without saying no by not taking action to be happy. 

Those who chose this pile may have a lot of unresolved emotional baggage they refuse to acknowledge, but your lesson will be in recognizing that baggage and unloading it. You may have been resisting a transition period in your life for as long as possible, and in 2024 that won't be allowed anymore. Saying "no" to happiness will not be an option; you will be thrown into tackling your anger, former traumas, apathy about life, etc. head on. The only real thing you can decide at this point is whether or not you're going to plan for it now that you know it's coming or allow life to take you through it however ough that may be. 

You will be pushed to be competitive about what it is you want. There may be a lot of conflict, and you may even feel jealous of others at one point; you may think, "why is it that my growth and transition is so much harder compared to everyone else's?". There may even be a point during the year where you feel as if you're guides or the universe or whoever/whatever you believe in isn't listening to you, but the truth is everyone experiences growing pains, and you have to figure out how to persevere and get over your fears the same way everyone else does. As stated before, refusing to grow and transition is not an option, but your attitude as you experience it is a choice you make; you can make it easier or harder on yourself by having an open mind. 

This year, you will be going from being a turtle to a tiger. You will no longer be allowed to take your time in regards to things in your life that are keeping you from growing into someone who is healthier and happier: mentally, physically, emotionally, and everywhere else. You will be stepping into your own power and your attitude will determine if you step into it gracefully or not. Overall, your lesson will be in learning how to free yourself from your own chains.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈

Signs:

"be free", the sun, heavy fixed sign energy, ceres, gemini, pluto, neptune, feeling disconnected from venus placement, having trouble speaking, 111, manifestations, "coming in", "i'm walking", "be realistic", mercedes, goose/geese

Shufflemancy:

“Love Like Woe” by The Ready Set

“One Step At a Time” by Jordin Sparks

“Are You That Somebody” by Aaliyah

“This World” by Ateez

“Can You Stand the Rain” by New Edition

“What Comes Next?” from Hamilton the Musical

Cards:

Eight of Coins (Rx), King of Swords (Rx), Five of Wands (Rx), The Hanged Man, King of Coins, Seven of Coins, The Sun, Fixed, Ceres, Sagittarius (Rx), 111, Mercury (Rx), Venus (Rx), Neptune, Pluto

Reading:

If you chose this pile, your lesson for the year deals with your self-worth and self-determination. “One Step At a Time” by Jordin Sparks seems to fit your energy best for this next year. It seems some of this energy may be lingering from last year also, but during 2024 you may feel as if you’re doing a lot of work but receiving no benefits from it. Eventually, this lack of success and recognition could wear on you, and you could wonder if what all you’re doing is even worth it. With your work, it could seem as if you do so much, but it’s just not quite enough to other people - even if you’re trying your absolute hardest. You could end up feeling unappreciated and as if you’re not advancing anywhere. 

It seems someone could be turning people away from you. For some people, this is a literal person who you may get along with, but you don’t really confront them when it comes to what they’re doing. For others of you, this is the universe purposefully blocking things from you because you’re trying to speed up the time you get certain things, and it’s telling you, “this isn’t how that works”. Regardless, there is someone or something in a higher position keeping you from reaching the success you think you deserve. This conflict will frustrate you throughout the year, and it could prove difficult for you to deal with. 

With the Hanged Man and Five of Wands (Rx), you’re being asked to compromise and re-think why you think you deserve recognition or success in a certain way. Is your reasoning valid or in good faith? Is your way really the only way you can gain what it is you’re wanting? Is what you’re wanting the best for you? I’m reminded of the meme (I guess is what it is) where a little girl is holding a small teddy bear or something, and Jesus is asking her to give it to Him, and she’s refusing, but the audience can see that He has an even bigger teddy bear for her; I feel like this will represent how your success for this year will be. You may have one view of how you want it, but that result keeps getting pushed back or thwarted because you’re thinking too small. 

The action of patience will be your most important lesson this year. “Can You Stand the Rain” fits really well for this closing part of the reading. You will be learning how to wither the storm of seemingly being overlooked and having your ideas of abundance not being given to you how and when you want in exchange for even better and more success to meet you at the end. As is always said, “patience is a virtue”.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Signs:

222, swan, itchy left palm, losing items, “i’m so sorry”, prominent sagittarius and/or gemini placements, heavy mutable energy, neptune dominant or many aspects to neptune, ducks, water, lust for nostalgia, being lost in your memories

Shufflemancy:

“In Love with Another Man” by Jazmine Sulllivan

“needy” by Ariana Grande

“Halazia” by Ateez

“Home” by Todrick Hall

“6 Foot 7 Foot” by Lil Wayne (feat. Corey Gunz)

“Put It On Da Floor Again” by Latto (feat. Cardi B)

Cards:

Queen of Cups (Rx), Six of Cups (Rx), Ace of Wands, Ten of Coins, The Sun, Six of Coins, The Emperor, Memories (Rx), Mutable (Rx), Sagittarius (Rx), Planetary Retrograde (Rx)

Reading:

For those choosing pile three, your lesson during the year will relate to you recognizing yourself more. Those who chose this pile may feel disconnected from their emotions or feel very emotionally drained last year and entering the new year. You may be very used to letting people utilize you in their lives however they want while when it comes to you needing people, they often are away or too busy to care about you. You could be prone to co-dependent relationships where you feel like you need to be needed or of help to someone and they to you, but you let them give you the bare minimum while you give your all. 

Earlier, I thought you might be someone who doesn’t like remembering things or has a hard time with their memory, but it’s actually the opposite! You’re someone who loves to get lost in the past and what used to be; the song “Could’ve Been” by H.E.R feels relevant. For some reason the energy for this pile feels very connected to a relationship that you may miss during the year. It seems you will eventually come to the realization that you’re losing yourself to the past and recognize you need to garner up the willpower to keep going for the present. You will gain the energy to begin doing things for yourself instead of for the sake of pleasing others. You will be recognizing how important you are to yourself, and/or you will be building up that importance. 

During this year, you will be building a new foundation where you do things for you. You will be focusing on your own growth and prioritizing self-care. You will learn how to put your happiness above other people's, which might be an issue you have been avoiding for a while. Rather than relying on others for emotional stability and to qualify your self-worth, you will likely end up doing a ton of introspection to discover what makes you happy solo. If you’re someone who is chronically in relationships, you may take a well-needed break in order to discover yourself like you’ve been putting off doing. 

Overall, your lesson for the new year involves being your own rock so to speak. You will be learning how to set boundaries to protect yourself from people who are no good for you because they want to be like vampires in using you. Instead, you will focus on yourself and your ideals, wants, desires, and emotions. Your lesson this year will be learning how to focus on you.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕

Signs:

having a lot of conjunctions in natal or solar return chart, heavy fixed energy, being born on a new moon, heavy uranus energy, “i don’t forgive you”, heavy fourth house placements and energy, “i don’t forgive you”, (oak) trees, miracles, unicorns

Shufflemancy:

“Focus” by Ariana Grande

“Hello” by J. Cole

“Lonely St.” by Stray Kids

“On It” by Jazmine Sullivan (feat. Ari Lennox)

“Another One Bites the Dust” by Queen

“New Money” by Leikeli47

Cards:

Ace of Cups, Four of Coins, The Devil, Temperance, Knight of Coins, King of Cups, Judgement, The Fool, Conjunction, Fixed, New Moon, Uranus, 4H, Trees, Miracles

Reading:

Those choosing this final pile, your lessons this year may relate to embracing new beginnings and a fresh start. For you, I’m reminded of all these rituals people are engaging in as we all enter the new year: eating black eyed peas, not washing clothes, having someone with money enter the house first, eating grapes under a table at midnight, and everything else. It seems you’re in the energy of “new year, new me”! With that, your lessons seem to relate to putting that quote to the test and seeing if you’re actually ready to embrace what comes with newness. 

You could be losing things and people this year; maybe you fall out with certain people in your friend group, or you lose your job, or you graduate from school, or you’ll find a whole new group of friends. In general, the concept of not getting so attached to things or people to the point where you’re unwilling to separate from them comes to mind. Not that you can’t also develop strong attachments and relationships! But, when it’s time to let a situation or person go do not spend so much time trying to get them to stay. “When it’s time to go; it’s time to go”. 

Do not become obsessive about things and people you come into contact with this year. The phrase, “there’s a time and season for everything” is very important! “Be flexible” is the best advice I could give for those reading this pile. Being flexible does not entail not working hard though; find a balance between being hardworking and putting in effort and also being open to change and loss. There is a major emphasis on balance and being in control when it comes to your emotions but also overall this year. 

Overall, your lessons deal with being open to the change that comes with a new year and declaring that you’re ready for new things. You still need to put in work and go about life and strive to achieve what it is you want - in relationships, friendships, work, your daily life, and more, but you also need to be willing to let people and things go when the universe tells you they’re no longer serving or helping you. Truly, be open to the new beginnings you’re saying you want. 

[writingoddess1125]

Carbon Copy

Mihawk x FemReader + OOC Alucare

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Old Men Series <- Click to read more

It had been far too long out at sea, especially with the growing irritation of Mihawk and Alucare- Maybe It was their personalities being too similar or the fact they were training daily but had to be careful. However it looked like two monsters about to Duke it out any day- You sitting there trying to keep the peace.

But finally the 3 {almost 4} Of you made it to the Grand Line and Kuraigana Island- You didn't know what to expect... but it sure wasn't nightmarish hellscape with a dark castle!?

Alucare and You standing there on the docked ship staring up at the Gloomy place- Your son slowly turning to look at his father.

"Are you some vampire we don't know about?-"

Mihawk sighed at this and gave a half glare to Alucare.

"No... it is ruins of the Muggy Kingdom that I have converted into my home" The two Dracule men glared at each other and you knew then.. this wasn't going to be as positive as you hoped.

It had been some weeks since arriving at Mihawks home and you had hoped the tension would disperse between Mihawk and Alucare.. but it honestly just got worse somehow? Maybe it was a father son thing but it seemed now both were fighting over everything- Food, Books, and even for your attention.

"I am warning you now Alucare- If you continue your attitude I will take something of value to you" Mihawk said with a narrowed gaze- The teenager cocking his head to the side in almost amusement.

However most recent was Perona, The young women taking a liking to Alucare who was the younger version of Mihawk in her eyes- While she was still too old for him, That didn't keep Alucare from flirting and trying. Much to Mihawks ire...

The older male taking Alucare out to training one day- Glaring at his spawn.

"Alucare- I do not appreciate you trying to flirt with my pupil... Not only is she too old for you, I know you're doing this to irritate me" Mihawk spoke calmly, Alucare giving a emotionless stare.

"Whatever do you mean?" He said calmly, Mihawk taking a breath.

"Oh? What like taking me away from the place I was raised? my mother? Throwing me across an island?" Alucare said with some venom in his tone. Mihawk taking a breath through his nose to calm himself.

"You son of a bitch!!!" You heard Alucare shout from his room, Mihawk smirking slightly as he sipped his coffee. You heard Alucare rapid footsteps march right to the kitchen area and you gasped at the sight- Alucare long hair had been cut- While before his hair was down to his waist it was just past his shoulders and fairly evenly cut, The shortness making the thick hair spike more and it reminding you of Mihawks more natural hair.

"Alucare- I am being serious. Stop it with Perona and stop testing me.." He demanded, Alucare giving a smirk at the man.

"Or what?" He said calmly, Mihawk feeling something snap inside of him.

"..." The older man just nodded and ended the training then and there- The rest of the night being oddly quiet between the two..

By Mornibg you had started breakfast and was talking to Mihawk when you heard it-

"Mihawk you didnt-?!" You start, Glaring at the male who continued to sip his coffee.

"Hm?- I warned him... if he kept up the disrespect I'd take something precious of his as punishment-"

"SO YOU CHOSE MY HAIR!? YOU CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER!" Alucare yelled in pure rage, Mihawk smiled at his choice of wording and winked.

"Yes that is a fair insult- I am a Mother Fucker" He said calmly setting down his teacup and picking up his newspaper to read. You groaning in your hands in both embrassment and irritation at your partner. Alucare was red in the face from anger and marched outside angrily and slamming the doors behind him- He was most likely going to train somewhere far away from the island.

"Must you antagize him Hawks?.. that was way to famn far and you know it-" You start now mad and standing up from the dinning room table.

"No- I'm giving him something he needs and something I didn't have-" Mihawk said calmly, this making you huff in frustration.

"Oh and what is that?!" You place your hands on your hips, feeling that the hormones were working you up and ready to bite Mihawks head off.

"The opportunity to be a teenager-" And just like that he took the wind from your sails... confusion being written on your face at his words.

"You said it yourself.. Alucare acts just like me- From the stoic attitude to hiding one's emotions... He has matured far too early for his age to protect you- But taking away his need to be strong for you, it's allowing him to express bottled up emotions and act as he should for a 16 year old.. Is he angry? Yes. Is he being dramatic? Absolutely. However it's better for him to express these in a environment that can handle it and then be taught how to work through them.... then to never feel them at all again-" Mihawk said truthfully and with a twinge of regret in his voice. Your heart Sinking as the realization of this all hit you...

Mihawk was wanting to let Alucare experience teenage emotions since he was never able to and help him grow as a person.. Mihawk didn't want his son to be like him- But better then him..

Sitting down you felt your eyes water.

You didn't see Alucare that night- or the next night. While you were shaken with worry Mihawk had insisted that Alucare was fine and he had checked in him from time to time- simply camping out on the north side of the island.

By the second night you went to the study and saw Mibawk drinking his normal wine, Seeing what looked to be a cheese and fruit board prepared as well.

"Ah (Y/N) thank you for the wine and snacks" Mihawk said calmly, finishing off the last cracker and cheese. You didn't remeber setting them out yet- But you usually did so it wasn't a huge surprise especially if you forgot.

"Hm I guess I forgot I did that- But no problem honey" You kiss his cheek and he smiled up at you touching your rounded stomach.

"It's normal- What did you call it? 'Pregnancy Brain?'" You nodded and smiled quite pleased he'd remembered. After some brief conversation Mihawk yawned and tried to shake the sleep away- He looked more tired then usual, Rubbing his eyes as he finishes his final glass of wine.

"Hm.. I'm exhausted" He mumbled, you watching as he seemed a bit uneasy on his feet when standing. You assumed he had drunk too much so it wasn't surprising, so the two of you walked back to the bedroom and he fell asleep quickly and soundly that night, you following suit soon after.

Unknown to both of you a pair of yellow eyes was watching the whole time-

The next morning you were the first one up, deciding Mihawk could sleep in and headed downstairs. Much to your surprise to see Alucare- bathed and dressed with his hair in a short low ponytail. Cooking a nice and large breakfast.

"Sweetie you're back!" You said cheerfully and kissed your sons cheeks. He smiled softly, finishing cooking.

"Couldn't miss the show" He said almost cheerfully, you raising a questioning eyebrow at this as you made a plate for yourself.

Perona was the next down, Chatting mindlessly with Alucare and even saying his hair didn't look bad either. Which he clearly appreciated but you could tell his mind was elsewhere- Soon the heavy footsteps of Mihawk approaching alerted all of you.

"Morning-" You heard Mihawk start as he stepped in the kitchen and it was like someone threw bricks at you all..

Perona choked on her eggs suddently and started to cough hard as she turned away. Your jaw dropped as a surprised shriekd left you- damn near dropped your plate as well, Alucare sitting there with a smirk on his face as he ate another bite of his breakfast calmly.

"M-Mihawk.. Honey" You start, The tired man looking at you confused at your reactions.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong?... I do apologize you had to make breakfast- I feel drowsy for some reason.." Mihawk admitted as he rubbed his temple to try and ease the drowsiness away.

"I'll be out training..." Alucare said calmly as he stood up and left the kitchen quickly. Perona now starting to laugh which confused Mihawk more-

"Your face... oh my God your face" You manage out and cover your mouth- Unsure if you should laugh or cry first.

"My what?-" Mihawk said quickly and went to the closest mirror which was in the hallway and stared at himself. There he saw it- half his facial hair had been shaved off paired with an eyebrow and some very nice pen work which had 'Dickhead' on his forehead with a detailed cock on his cheek.

It then clicked- The wine and snacks... The little fucker must have drugged him and did this to him while he slept-

"..."

You closed your eyes and sighed, practically feeling Mihawks anger from the hallway and you prayed your son would survive whatever was about to happen- Especially when Mihawks voice boomed across the castle and island.

"ALUCARE!!"

[weirdkpopgirl]

A Little Help | Jaemin Imagine #14

Title: A Little Help

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of kissing -- light makeout session, suggestive dialogue (but nothing crazy)

Word Count: ~1k

Author's Note: This imagine was an idea I had for a very long time, but I just never got to writing it. For awhile, I went back and forth as to which member to give this story to. Ultimately, I'm weak for Na Jaemin, so I chose him. I know you guys like this sort of stuff too, so I hope you enjoy it (not too much though lol). Please look forward to my future works as well. Thank you for reading ^ ^

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jaemin made his way into your cozy living room with a steaming mug of lemon tea in hand. His eyes quickly found you seated on the floor near the coffee table. Despite the dim lighting in the room, your face was illuminated by the soft glow of the laptop in front of you. Jaemin started to smile, observing how focused you were on writing the story you’d been working on for months. However, his smile froze when he noticed you nibbling your lower lip and sighing in frustration.

Quietly, he shuffled over to sit beside you on the carpet and carefully set down the drink on the table. You picked up on his presence immediately and glanced up at him with a small smile.

“Thank you,” you said, curling your fingers around the handle of the mug before taking a long sip of the warm beverage.

He instinctively reached a hand to tenderly brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Everything okay?” he asked in the calm, low-toned voice he typically used during late-night conversations with you.

You hummed in response, holding back from sighing again. “Yeah. I’m just stuck on this certain part of my story.”

“What’s it supposed to be?” Jaemin tilted his head, his dark brown eyes filled with a blend of curiosity and concern. His innocent question unintentionally made you hesitate, your eyes flickering back to the screen before meeting his gaze once more. 

“Well, this is when my main characters are supposed to have their first kiss,” you explained, already feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks. “And for some reason, I’m struggling with the technicalities of it. It’s just frustrating because, I don’t usually have much of a problem with writing kiss scenes.”

Although you felt silly admitting this to your boyfriend (of all people), your frustration outweighed your embarrassment. Jaemin was the type of person who never seemed fazed by anything, but you still expected him to tease you.

Instead, Jaemin wore a thoughtful expression, arms crossed over his knees. “Why don’t you try acting out the kiss with me? It might help you get a better feel for it.”

Eyes widening in surprise at his suggestion, you began to protest. “I-I don’t know, Nana. I mean, that’s a bit…” you trailed off, shyness instinctively taking over. 

But then you paused, considering his idea for a moment. It wasn’t actually that bad and might help you with this little dilemma. After all, he was your boyfriend, so being close to each other wasn’t out of the norm. Certainly when you were dating Na Jaemin, possibly the most affectionate man you knew.

“Hm, I guess it can’t hurt to try,” you conceded, moving your hands away from your laptop. 

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Jaemin properly and he scooted closer with a warm smile. “You said it’s their first kiss, right?” he asked, recalling the brief context you gave him earlier.

You nodded. “Yeah…um. It’s supposed to start off slow and hesitant. But it becomes more passionate since the characters have been pining for each other practically forever.”

“Okay. Show me what you’re thinking, princess,” he said. Both the pet name and his soothing voice sent a shiver down your spine.

At first, you hesitated, before tentatively reaching out to take his hand, bringing it to your cheek. “Maybe it could start with him cupping her face like this,” you spoke in almost a whisper. “And then her hands could just be on his shoulders?”

Your initial unease wore off fairly quickly, and Jaemin felt his heart skip a beat as you continued to test different hand placements with him. He couldn’t help but find how your brows furrowed in concentration and the way you quietly mumbled to yourself, incredibly endearing.

“Then when things start to get more intense, his hands should go here,” you murmured, guiding his other hand to your waist. He suppressed a laugh, noticing how you were too focused to be flustered by the intimacy of the gesture.

Yet, as minutes passed without your lips coming in contact with his, Jaemin’s frustration simmered. He couldn’t stop his eyes from being drawn to your soft, pink lips. Though your touches remained innocent, they only made the temptation increasingly difficult to resist. Growing tired of waiting, he gave into the impulse and leaned into capture your lips with his own. 

Immediately caught off guard, a soft gasp escaped you from the sudden kiss. You felt his hand on your back, pressing possessively, while his lips moved hungrily against yours. Midway into the kiss, you realize how unintentionally teasing you must have been when you were trying to work out the characters’ kiss in your mind. But before you could fully process what was happening, he pulled away. Seeing the light shade of red painted across your cheeks, Jaemin smiled in satisfaction.

“You need to know how the kiss feels so you can describe it in your story,” he reasoned, his voice teasing but earnest.

Despite being a blushy mess, you understood what he meant and smiled back. “You’re right. But I think we should do it again…you know, so I can be more prepared this time.” 

Your words made his grin widen as your arms wrapped around his neck. His lips met yours in a passionate dance, the story temporarily forgotten. Jaemin pulled you closer, his fingers delicately tracing your jawline. He could taste a hint of lemon tea on your lips, and a smile formed as you lightly tugged at his hair. It took all his self-control not to get too carried away, savoring the moment while keeping his desire in check.

 Even though Jaemin has kissed you dozens of times, each one reminded you of how insanely in love you were with one another. And in that moment, the characters and their story faded into the background, leaving only the warmth and connection between you two.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

previous masterlist -> current masterlist

[bunnyboysrus]

Of Monsters and Omegas

I read this a/b/o thing a while ago, I don't even know who the original was by I can't find it again y-y

but it had a thing I'd never seen in a/b/o before, with an idea of an alpha, claim biting another alpha and turning them into an omega (talked to a friend and it turns out this is a thing that has been written about more than once, im just out of touch and its not even friday) and it was an amazing story, super well written, I just personally didn't like the ending cause I'm the #1 advocate for brat readers and not the biggest fan of crybabies or the total pheromone brainwashing that people write for omegas that make them do the complete opposite of what they would normally do, I'd like to think they have more resistance to the chemicals than that albeit at the cost of some physical and psychological pain. so im writing my own, thingy, with a different ending.

18+ Minors DNI - 6.3k words Content Warnings: stalking, obsession, death, fighting, violence, blood, torture(?), kidnapping, noncon touching, suggestive, gangs, some degradation, reader is referred to as 'princess' gender neutrally (im new to this so if theres anything i forgot pls let me know)

The heavy sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoed against the stone walls of the alleyway concealing the battered figures of the people fighting within it. One person lay dazed and immobile on the ground already, followed shortly by a second body, this one out cold before he even hit the ground. The last two fighters standing were locked in a desperate grapple, and despite having been beset upon by three assholes at once, the would-be victim who had been pulled into the alley on their way home from a long day of college classes gains the upper hand for the third and final time. Your muscles burn as you grunt and send the last assailant flying into the hard brick wall, one final crack ringing through the tight, dark space as they slide down the wall onto the dirty ground, right into an unfortunately placed puddle of dumpster juice. They leave a splatter of blood on the stone where the back of their head split on the stained grit.

Blood drips from the knuckles of the hand you run through the sweaty hair slicked to your forehead as you stoop and pick up your backpack from where it had been tossed to the side. You spot a wallet on the ground, knocked out of someone's pocket at some point during the fight, and pocket the cash from that too, for the inconvenience. These scumbags were lucky they weren't dead, yet, anyway. For this? They'd probably be killed within the week once you gave their ID's to your older sister.

You continue on your way back home, wiping the blood off your knuckles and face with the sleeve of your coat as you go.

Why those grunts had seemingly staked you out was beyond you, other than the obvious reason of being a member of their gang's most vicious and historied rival. Your family was a notorious one, a family business dealing mostly in drugs but with a few spare hands in money laundering and data gathering. You were fully aware that what your family did was illegal in a dozen different ways, but it was what you had grown up in, it was what paid for your lavish lifestyle, so who were you to be judgmental? Besides, to compromise within a morally gray area, you know your family prefers to keep things as bloodless as possible, less clean up and attention that way. As a fresh adult who was only in your second year of college however, you were ignorant to most of those details, and chose to be so. You understood why your family didn't want to involve you just yet, and you didn't care to dig into it, the longer you could go with less responsibilities, the better. So, for now, you were content to stay in the dark and live your carefree, well-funded life.

Of course, that didn't mean you were naive or anything. You know very well that you were in constant danger of being attacked or killed, even as you lived a perfectly normal college life. So, as any self-respecting alpha would, you worked out intensely and routinely, to the point of being intimidating even to other alphas. Running into a few punks here and there was nothing to you, even when they came in groups like they had today.

The remaining smears of blood on your knuckles have dried into a crust by the time you get home. Once you've kicked off your shoes at the door, you hide the gory evidence of your altercation in your coat pockets as you step into the living room of your family's manor. Your sisters, Nina, the youngest, and Esme, older than you but younger than your brothers, Leon and Silas, are sitting on the couch closest to the TV, a drama of some sort playing as they shared a bowl of strawberries. Nina beams at you from the couch.

"Hey! How was your day?"

Nina was still in high school, which in your opinion was way worse than college, so the fact that she still had the spunk and energy to greet you so enthusiastically warmed your heart. You smile back at her as you head for the stairs.

"It was pretty good, I finally finished that project so now I don't have to stay late at the library anymore."

"That's great! That means you'll be home early enough to watch Cats of Heaven with me!"

"I should have enough time for that, sure." You chuckle. You had no clue what that was, but if you had to guess, knowing your sister it was the newest silly cartoon that she had become infatuated with. At least she wasn't trying to get you to watch the insufferable dramas that she liked to watch with Leon and Esme, like what was on now, but you would never admit to your siblings how corny you thought those kinds of shows were. You could only hope Cats of Heaven was something more entertaining than the standard soap operas you'd observed.

"There's pizza in the kitchen." Esme calls to you as you start up the stairs.

Ah, so Leon isn't home yet. The oldest of your siblings was the one who normally cooked, more often than even your mother. You call back an acknowledgement before jogging up the stairs to your room. After cleaning yourself of the day's grime, and the blood of course, you change clothes and trot back downstairs, heading for the kitchen to obtain some of the aforementioned pizza. Getting past the group project you'd been working on for the past three months meant more free time after school for the immediate future, and you were all too keen to relax with your family, even if it meant slogging through a show that was potentially horrendous.

You pad back into the living room, already halfway through one of the five slices of cheesy divinity on your plate. You were just sitting down between Esme and Nina when the sound of keys in the front foyer made you all perk up.

"I thought they weren't coming back for another few days?" Esme voices the question on all of your minds, 'they' being your parents and oldest brother, who had left on a business trip a little under a week ago.

"Maybe they finished work early and wanted it to be a surprise." Nina suggests happily, as the sound of footsteps in the hallway grows closer. You're hit with a sudden wave of apprehension at the same time as Esme, both of you standing abruptly to move in front of your youngest sister as a crowd of strangers step into the room with shameless casualness. Leading them, is an imposing alpha man with ink black hair tied at the nape of his neck and burning red eyes so piercing it almost made you shiver to be caught in their gaze. Almost.

The only thing that overpowered the rising fear was anger.

You sprint directly for the leader, arm pulled back for a haymaker, but some beta grunt gets in your way and takes the blow. It's clear from the confidence with which he steps in that he was unprepared for the force behind the fist, and ends up on his face on the floor, dead to the world. The first swing immediately spurs the others into action, and they surge around their leader to subdue you. It turns out to be a much harder endeavor than any of them anticipate, even when one lackey throws themself onto your back to weigh down your movement, you move as though the weight wasn't there at all, ramming backwards and crushing the brave idiot and one other against the wall. You're about to make another lunge for the leader, who has so far been lounging in an insufferably smug manner against the wall, watching the fight but not bothering to get involved, when you hear a shrill scream behind you that stops you cold.

You turn back to see Nina trapped in the arms of a muscly thug, and Esme thrashing on the ground at her feet, held down by two others. Your rage surges and you move to attack their captors, but the momentary distraction caused by your little sister's distress is all the time that's needed for three more men to jump on you and drag you to the ground. It takes 5 people altogether to hold you down as you curse and struggle against their hold trying to reach your sisters.

The leader of the home invasion chuckles condescendingly as he finally moves from his spot against the wall and walks closer, kneeling down by your face, a tight smile on his face that holds no amusement.

"You're just as feisty as ever, second youngest. I've heard all about your track record in fights, your unbroken win streak was so intimidating that I thought for sure it'd take more than that to subdue you. I'm a little disappointed."

"Fuck you!!!" It's all you can manage to spit out amongst your fury and exhaustion; normally you'd be able to throw off even five people, at least enough to get an arm free to strike out, but you were already worn out from your earlier fight. That, and a literal glob of spit that lands splat dab against the side of the assault leader's nose; damn, so close to hitting him in the eye.

The room goes cold and still, the thugs surrounding you and your siblings seem to take in a collective breath of anxiety, looking nervously to their leader for his reaction. To their surprise, he simply stares down intensely at the struggling alpha on the floor as he wipes the spit off his cheek... and licks it off his thumb.

"Oh, are you sure that's smart? You might not care about your own compromised position... but you care about theirs, right?" He glances over to the men holding down your sisters and in response to an unspoken signal, they draw knives and hold them menacingly against their throats. Esme growls furiously, but Nina screams again in fear as tears pour down her cheeks.

"Stop! Stop it, don't terrorize them! You're here for me, right?! Then just take me outside and beat me to death if that's what you want but leave them alone!!!" You still sound enraged, but even you are aware of the fear that leaks into your voice.

"Aww, worried for your sisters? Me too." The faux amusement in the alpha leader's voice is gone now, replaced with a cold fury chilling enough to send a zing of worry into your spine. The leader grabs a fistful of your hair in a painfully tight grip as he pulls your head up, his other hand spinning a set of keys around his finger. Your blood runs cold when you zero in on the plastic pink dolphin hanging on the ring.

Those are your mother's keys.

"You seem to think I'm here because you put a few grunts into the hospital. You're mistaken." The alpha tilts his head as his eyes pierce into yours, searching, but for what, you don't know. "You aren't aware of what your brother's been up to, are you?"

"You'll have to be more specific; I have two." You huff, trying not to stare too obviously at the dolphin, trying desperately not to think of what it might mean of your mother's fate for this asshole to be holding those keys.

"Silas." The alpha says icily, speaking the name like a curse.

Warily, you shake your head, the clawed grip on your head barely allowing the movement. "No, I'm not aware of anything my brothers and parents are involved in."

"That's unfortunate... But I'm already aware of that. It's cute, honestly, did they think leaving you out of the loop would keep you safe and uninvolved?" He gives your hair a sharp tug, eliciting a hiss from the fuming alpha. "All it did was make you the perfect tool for revenge."

"What the fuck are you even talking about you piece of shi-" The leader slams your face into the ground, and although the floor is carpeted, it only buffers the brunt force so much. When the leader lifts your head back up, your nose is dripping blood.

"I'm talking now. Unless you want me to kill your sisters in front of you, you'll shut the fuck up and listen like a good little bitch."

A growl rumbles through you which is met with another face first kiss into the floor, but the alpha doesn't signal anything to the thugs holding your sisters.

"Listen well, as I won't repeat myself. Silas kidnapped my sister, and I can only assume he claimed her. That, or he killed her, but I doubt it. Your mother was helping him to keep them both hidden, and to her credit she refused to sell him out, no matter how much we hurt her." The spinning of the keys stops abruptly as the leader catches them in his palm before dangling them in front of you. "I guess she didn't stop to think about what that choice might mean for her other children, left so innocent and unaware at home, alone. Maybe she had a favorite?"

Your blood runs cold as you take in the intruder's words. You had never been particularly close with Silas, hell, none of your siblings were. He had always been very distant with his siblings, while the rest of you went on to be incredibly close with one another, leaving Silas as the odd one out. That wasn't to say you hadn't all at some point tried to get closer with him, he had simply always made it clear he had no interest. This was probably also fueled by the coddling you had all observed from your mother; Silas had always been her golden boy, incapable of wrongdoing.

"I had no idea... None of us did." You can only hope the sincerity is clear in your voice and face; you genuinely had no idea your brother had done such a thing or was even capable of doing such. If the kidnapping was fueled by anything other than the feud between your families... The thought made you sick.

The leader considers your words, his chilling gaze never wavering in the slightest from yours.

"I believe you. From what I gather, based on what we were able to discern from the phone we took from your mother, she and he were the only ones in on it."

Your relief is short lived when a cruel, mirthless smirk creeps over the leader's face. There's a sudden sting in the side of your neck, you barely have time to register the pinch of pain before darkness rushes into your vision from all sides.

"However... That doesn't alleviate you of the consequences."

A sudden splash of cold drags you unwillingly out of the darkness. You open your eyes, gasping, taking in the dirty, gray stone, the puddle surrounding you; you're no longer in your living room. You now find yourself somewhere dark and cemented on all sides, the cold dampness pervading the space the kind that only comes from being underground. The only illumination comes from a single bare bulb swinging on a frayed wire over your head, the light it casts only making the space feel more unnerving.

Looming over you, face cast eerily in the darkness clumping up around the edges of the bulb's dingy light, is the leader of the home invasion. His red eyes are black in the shadow, but still alight with something cruel and mocking. He has a bucket in his hand, empty save for the last few drops of water clinging to the lip, the rest of it covering you.

"Good morning, princess. Sleep well?"

It's just the two of you, alone. No guards, no thugs, no sign of your sisters. You process this information a split second before you register the weight clamped down around your arms and waist, metal rattling loudly through the small space when you try to lunge for him, only to be stopped short by a chain attached to the wall behind you. You twist your arms violently, feeling the bite of handcuffs digging into your wrists, chains pulling taught where they're wrapped around your waist. Your captor laughs at your efforts.

It's when you growl in response to the taunting laughter that you feel more metal on your face. A muzzle. You can't suppress the fury thrashing around in your chest like a wild animal, growing more and more violent the more humiliation is piled on. The abduction, the laughter, the restraints, the muzzle. You kick and pull and yank and spit and snarl, don't stop even when the metal bites and blood makes your skin slippery against the cuffs.

"Aww, throwing a tantrum now? Cute." The words are barely enough warning before you're shoved onto your back, arms grinding painfully between the restrains and the dirty floor.

Your captor straddles you, his weight keeping your body pressed flat to the ground while one hand settles into the curve of your throat and squeezes. His palm presses lightly into your airway at the same time that his thumb rubs slow, pensive circles in the dip between your neck and collar. You shiver apprehensively when it brushes over the scent gland in your neck.

"I already told you I don't know where your sister is. Fucking kill me already so you can get even, just don't hurt my sisters. They're not involved!"

"Second time you've asked me to kill you... you seem quite keen on it." He smirks. "Unfortunately, you're all involved by virtue of simply being a part of that family. I know none of you are stupid enough to be completely ignorant to your family's doings."

Another growl bubbles up in your throat, only to be choked into silence when your captor tightens his grip around your neck.

"You know, I've thought for a while now that the older you've gotten, the less happy you've looked. The worst time, was right after your high school graduation, it was like the last of your light had left your eyes." His smile softens into something pitying, bordering on sympathetic even, but all you feel is chills running up and down your spine. "You always used to be so carefree, and spirited, it was crushing to see you looking so worn down and sad. It took me a while to realize what was killing the happy you I love so much."

The hands around your neck loosen as the leader leans down, hips shifting against your crotch as he moves, completely unbothered by the water soaking into his pants. He brings his face to your ear, lips grazing against the shell of it.

"Don't you think trying so hard to posture around like a big tough alpha is exhausting? I know it is, I know intimately the sort of shit we go through to come out on top as the strongest, the worthiest... But that struggle never suited you, did it? You've always seemed too sweet for it to me, more like an omega than an alpha."

You can't help but take the opportunity to thrust your head forward and slam it into your captor's face, forcing him back into his upright position. Ignoring the stalker shit this guy was just babbling was difficult, but you decided to skip it for now since honestly you didn't really wanna hear the details...

"You've gotta be shitting me, I've sent hundreds of you losers to the hospital and the grave since I was a middle schooler. If you're seriously trying to compare me to an omega, then I know you're full of it and just trying to piss me off."

He raises an eyebrow, surprisingly not retaliating against the bonk to his head, not yet at least.

"So, what would you call the manicures you get monthly with your sister?"

"I call that self-care and spending time with my sister. Fighting off all your fuckin' grunts wears my hands out and I'm not fond of scars. I deserve a relaxing hand massage for the trouble of beating your thugs up every week."

"And the mall trips where you spend hundreds on clothes which you follow up with a trip to that quaint little bakery where you always get a strawberry cream cake? That doesn't strike you as omega-ish?"

"Go to hell. For one thing, it's insanely creepy that you know all that, and for another, you're stereotyping like a motherfucker. Alphas aren't all meatheads that do nothing but eat raw steak, jerk off and work out, and all omegas aren't valley preps that do nothing but shop and primp. People who think like you are what's wrong with society."

The leader's deep red eyes stare intensely into your face for an eerily long moment before the corners of his lips twitch. At first its imperceptible, and while he clearly fights to keep a straight face, he can't keep down the chuckles bubbling out of his throat for long. He throws his head back in a burst of full body laughter, the least cruel sound he's made since you met him. When he finally manages to calm himself, the leader beams down at you as he wipes a tear out of his eye.

"My god... You're so fucking cute. Do you even hear yourself? You're only proving my point. You're meant to be pampered and taken care of, sheltered and safe from petty street fights and laborious expectations of strength and intimidation. You look so much cuter and happier getting your nails done than you do working out and swaggering around trying to be impressive and domineering."

This conversation had already been creepy since it started, but this was starting to genuinely unnerve you. You try to lean your head further away from the alpha on top of you, but he grabs the front of your muzzle, dragging you closer.

"Don't run away now tough guy. I thought a big bad alpha like you wasn't scared. How's it feel to be the one on bottom? Feeling threatened by the idea of someone putting you in your place? Scared?" He drags his tongue across the thin bars of the muzzle, his breath ghosting over your lips.

"What do you want from me?" You finally manage to ask, despite the tightness in your throat. As much as you expect to dread the answer, you can't stand any more of the back and forth while you wait in suspense for torture, for death, for something. Something other than whatever it is about this whole exchange that is making this guy so rock hard. You're trying to ignore it but, you've been feeling the unmistakable prod of this weirdo's boner against your crotch for almost the whole time you've been speaking.

"Still waiting on me to kill you? Knowing how proud you are, I bet you'd prefer death over what I have planned for you." The freak on top of you chuckles, his voice lowering to a husk as he leans down and nuzzles his nose into the crook between your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. "You smell so sweet even now, for an alpha...~ You'll smell even better soon."

Before you can ask what the hell he's talking about, you feel a kitten lick against your neck that makes you freeze. It's light at first, but quickly turns into broad strokes of his tongue and open mouth kisses from shoulder to jaw, wet and insistent.

No way. Nowaynowaynowaynoway. Obviously, no one is incapable of being sexually assaulted but it rarely ever happened to alphas, they weren't exactly the cute, easy targets creeps normally went for. It had never even been a passing concern for you up until now.

"Hey! Are you fucking-gh...!" You choke on your words when a sharp sting pulses through your neck. A heartbeat later, a deep and agonizing burning sensation starts to spread through your veins, up into your head where the white-hot burn is so blaring that it clouds your vision with spots, and down into your chest where your heart starts pounding against your ribs like it's trying to claw its way out. You can only gasp soundlessly as pain like you've never experienced rips through you, tearing screams from your lungs that die before they can even leave your throat, coming out only as gasping whimpers. It's after you feel a second bite and the pain is redoubled that you finally manage to shriek out loud, a sound so visceral and so unlike any sound or scream you've ever made that it doesn't even sound like you.

When he bites into your scent gland for a third time, the pressure building behind your eyes from the pain and the lightheadedness of screaming without pause for breath snaps. You can feel yourself losing consciousness again, and this time you couldn't be more grateful for it.

Your return to the waking world is much slower this time. Whereas before you were yanked out of the darkness with a splash of cold water, this time you find yourself wading through it, a lake of sludge thicker than cold syrup, and it was just as sticky and unpleasant as you imagine such a thing would be. Despite what feels like physical pounds of exhaustion weighing them down, you manage to drag your eyes open.

You feel cold and damp all over, a fresh drop of sweat rolling down your neck. A full body ache that sinks deep into your bones covers you; you feel like you're made of glass, fragile, weak and sore.

A strip of dim, greyed light is shining on the ceiling over your head; its all you can focus on as your awareness swims to the surface and clambers out of the heavy lake still trying to drag it down. You shift and lift one of your arms out from under the thick blanket covering you and notice gauze wrapped around your wrist. A small, delicate gasp to your side makes you turn your head. Nina is sitting in a chair by your bedside, clutching your other hand tightly between hers.

"You're awake! Y-You were sleeping so long I thought you'd never..." She sniffles, holding your hand to her cheek as hot tears drip onto your wrist. You slowly turn your hand to press your palm against her cheek, smiling softly.

"It's okay Nina, I'm alive, it's alright." Your voice is barely more than a croak, scratching painfully out of your throat. Nina grabs a cup of water from a bedside table and gently helps you take a few sips. When you've managed to drain the whole cup, you lay back in the bed with a wearied sigh.

"What happened? I thought for sure I was dying, I..." You trail off, thinking back to the odd conversation you'd had with the alpha who had led your home's invasion. Your head is pounding, and you feel so weak, like you're just waking up from the worst part of a flu, still feeling traces of a fever in the heat trapped in your blankets and the sweat clinging to your skin. A growl from the window pulls your attention away from your condition.

"That motherfucker... He did something to you." Esme is leaning against the frame of the large window casting the gray light over the ceiling a few feet away from where you and Nina are sitting, a cigarette crushed in half in her hand. You can't help but be faintly alarmed at the sight of it; Nina had expressly forbidden Esme from smoking, and she hadn't been caught with a cigarette in over a year. To see her with one in front of Nina, and for Nina to not be making any fuss over it, means something is seriously wrong. A distant rumble punctuates the tense silence that falls over you all, and you notice that the slim strip of sky visible through the partially parted curtains over the window is blotted out with storm gray.

"Did what to me?" You press. Your sisters exchange a look that is far too loaded to discern anything from other than Nina's palpable concern and Esme's frustration. You quickly get tired of waiting for one of them to tell you what is going on.

"Will one of you please tell me what is making you both look at me like I've caught some kind of fatal disease?" You huff, anxiety bleeding into your words. Nina glances one more time to Esme, who adamantly refuses to look away from the window as she throws down her ruined cigarette and retrieves a new one.

"You... Er, well you were... claimed. By Emil." Nina says quietly, staring down at her hands in her lap rather than you.

You stare at her blankly. What she's saying makes sense objectively, but you can't make sense of what it could have to do with you. Claiming was something exclusively done between alphas and omegas. You almost want to laugh and call it absurd, when you remember the sharp, burning pain of something piercing your neck. You shiver as you recall that the pain had been sourced in the same area as your scent gland. Your hand slowly, shakily, reaches up to press two probing fingers to your neck. Pain pulses faintly through you again when the tips of your fingers find gauze wrapped around it.

The weakness pervading your entire body, the nervousness underlying all of the other emotions swirling in your gut, the foreign sensation settled in your lower abdomen... Somehow, you know instinctively what it all means before your sister even says it.

"He bitched you. You're an omega now." Esme's voice has dropped to a low, hard to hear octave. You almost want to believe you imagined what you just heard, but you know deep down that what she says is true. The despair must show on your face, as Nina grabs your hand again, squeezing it tightly between both of hers.

"I-It'll be okay...! Emil is actually very nice, and he's genuinely-" She's cut off by the sharp slam of Esme's fist against the wall.

"Bullshit! Don't even start Nina. He bitched you and he expects you to roll over and be happy about it, but I say fuck that!" She snarls, her new cigarette meeting the same fate as its predecessor as she crushes it in her fist and throws it to the ground. "He's gone on and on at us trying to prove that this is all somehow what's best for you, but he just sounds deranged! He's a sick, obsessive freak, and he wants you to-!"

The sound of a door opening stops her short, and all three siblings jerk around to look at the newcomer entering through the door on the far side of the room from the bed. A woman in scrub pants and a sweater glowers down at all three siblings, looking supremely exhausted.

"You two, you were told you would only be allowed in if you didn't cause trouble. Are you distressing the patient right after they wake up?" She asks in a cold, droning voice.

Nina and Esme exchange defeated, worried glances before Nina speaks up.

"N-No ma'am, we weren't trying to be disruptive we were just-"

"Overwhelming someone coming out of a physically taxing ordeal that left them comatose for almost two weeks." She interjects dryly. "Come on, visitation's over, both of you out."

You expect your sisters to argue, to tell her off for expecting them to leave you alone and insist on staying with you, but to your shock your sisters resignedly stand up and head for the door. Once they've both shuffled out, the nurse (?) shuts the door behind them and trudges over to you. You flinch away from her touch, but she grabs you in firm but gentle hands, holding you still as she looks you over.

"I expected you to stay out for a few more days, but you're one tough little cookie. How are you feeling?"

Bewildered but too shell shocked to question, you answer the questions she asks you as she goes about taking your temperature and blood pressure. One impromptu physical later, she steps away from your bed with a satisfied nod.

"Alright, it looks like your recovery is progressing better than expected. You'll probably be up and about like nothing happened within a few days." You listen to her ramble about your condition before you can bring yourself to ask.

"What happened to me? Is... Is what my sister said true? Am I an omega?"

The nurse goes silent. The pitying look she gives you is all the confirmation you need.

"You should go back to sleep for now. Your body probably still feels very weak. Food will be brought to you shortly but try not to stress yourself out in the meantime." It's all she says before she hurries to the door, shutting your questions down with a firm slam. You scramble to your feet, swaying violently as soon as you try to stand. You power through it, holding down a lurching sensation akin to being on the verge of throwing up as you stagger to the door and wrench at the knob. Locked.

Fear and worry overtake you as you start slamming your hands and body into the door, though what you're trying to accomplish, not even you know. You're too weak to even stand, let alone break down a door, and before long, cold rushes into your limbs and you find yourself sliding down onto the floor, trembling and barely keeping down the bile crawling up your throat. You curl up into a ball and close your eyes.

When you awake for the third time, you don't feel nearly as ill. The ache in your limbs is still there, a mild constant, but it doesn't feel as debilitating as it did before. As you are in the middle of waking, you feel a cool hand brushing through your hair, and smell a sweet scent around you that puts you at ease. You can't help but lean your face into the hand petting you as your eyes slowly open. Snuggled against you, both arms wrapped securely around you... is that fucking freak.

You jerk away from the home invasion leader's hand, pulling him out of what looks like a deep reverie as you scramble to the side of the bed farthest from him. He smiles at you in amusement as he sits up, leaning his cheek against a fist propped on his knee.

"Good morning, princess. How are you feeling?"

You rub your hand over your neck, now free of gauze, feeling the bite marks in your skin in hyper-detail.

"You fucking... y-you, what did you do...?!" You demand, your voice a slightly higher pitch than you recall it being and shaking.

He chuckles like this was exactly what he was expecting, looking at you with a coy condescension that makes your skin crawl.

"I helped you; the first step to setting up our beautiful romance was making you an omega so I could care for you without any power struggles getting in the way. I'm not saying I look down on alphas having relationships with other alphas, but it just wasn't for me." His grin broadens as he crawls closer to you, closing the distance you'd put between you. You try to back up further, but he corners you against the headboard, arms caging you in on either side. He leans his head down, you shrink into yourself as he does but its not far enough, and his cheek brushes yours as he licks up the side of your neck. When his tongue glides over the bites on your neck, a shudder runs through you unbidden. A sudden rush of wetness between your legs shocks you to a frozen standstill. The freak looming over you takes a deep inhale, shuddering in ecstasy.

"I was right... You smell so much sweeter like this!" He presses against you, one knee parting your legs as one of his hands rubs the burning heat between your thighs. You reach to grab his wrist and pull it away, but his free hand catches yours and holds it down. The uncomfortable wetness gets worse as a heat purrs through your core, goaded by his touching.

You feel a foreign sensation crawling through your brain, sickeningly warm and disorienting. It urges you to pull your hands away, spread yourself open willingly before the alpha in front of you. It promises bliss in submission, ecstasy in relinquishing control to someone bigger and stronger than you, someone who could protect and ravish you-

A jolt runs through you as your captor's hand drifts up to dip underneath the waistband of your pants, his face lifting up from your neck to direct his affections to your lips. His attempt to take a kiss is stopped short violently by a fist slamming into his nose. He falls backwards off the side of the bed with an undignified yelp, curling up on the floor for an agonizing moment to hold his face as blood rushes between his fingers.

"W-What the hell... Aren't you...?"

"GO TO HELL YOU UGLY FREAK!!!" The panic you feel is pushed down, rage swallowing it entirely. The alpha on the floor quickly backs up as you get to your feet, fists clenched and shaking in fury.

"But I claimed you...! You can't-"

"I don't give a shit what you did! Did you seriously think I'd tolerate you touching me?! Get the hell OUT!!!!!" You scream loud enough to make your voice hoarse in your already aching throat, grabbing anything you can to hurl at him. Pillows and plastic cups chase him out as he scrambles back to the door, muttering a promise to visit again once you're in a better mood. A pillow smacks into the door with alarming force in the spot where his head had been just a split second earlier. As for the idea of you ever being in any mood that would make you tolerate being in his presence...

Fat chance of that.

[lovelybucky1]

Bad Guys Win

Kinktober Day 13- Knife Kink

part two of "nice guys finish last" but can be read as standalone fic

warnings: AFAB!reader, horror movies, referenced violence, knife play, dirty talk, under negotiated kink, dom/sub dynamics, 18+ minors DNI

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

Ever since that night Anakin got you high and confessed his desire for you, you've been spending a lot more time together. You're still just friends, but now your relationship has a lot more benefits than it did prior.

Tonight Anakin invited you over because he had the house to himself. It was far too casual to be a date, but he got pizza delivered and there was cold beer on the table, so at least he made an effort.

You had no delusions about why you were there. It's a hookup between friends. Good friends, sure. Ones who care about each other very deeply, but it was still just sex.

That's why you were confused when Anakin grabbed your arm and led you down the stairs to the basement. It's technically unfinished, but it was a large area rug, a couch, and a TV hooked up with your brother's PlayStation.

He told you it was movie night and rifled through the shelf of movie cases. He chose Friday the 13th because it was fitting for the day. You fondly rolled your eyes at his joke and joined him on the couch once he got the DVD in the player.

He pressed up against your side on the couch and pulled the classic yawn move and put his arm around you. It was a bit odd to cuddle with Anakin like this, but you know him well enough that the closeness wasn't uncomfortable. The closeness did, however, allow him to feel every twitch of your body.

You jump when Jason pops out of no where, jostling Anakin.

"You okay?" he asks, chuckling.

You scoff. "I'm fine."

"Are you scared? Don't worry, your big brother will protect you," he jokes.

You elbow him in the ribs. "Don't call yourself that, freak."

Anakin just laughs and turns his attention back to the movie.

When it gets to the final chase scene, you're squirming with anxiety. You know it's just a movie, but the suspense gets you to. Anakin looks down at you with a smirk on his lips.

"Would you fuck him?" Anakin asks.

Your head snaps to the side, looking at him with furrowed brows. "Jason?"

"Yeah," Anakin says.

"You mean the crazy killer with the knife?"

Anakin adjusts his position so he can see you better. "Yeah. I mean like, you don't have to think he's hot. But if it was me, would you fuck me?"

What a weird fucking question. You can't tell if he's genuinely curious or if he's fishing for some kind of compliment.

"I guess," you shrug.

"If I had the mask and the knife?"

"Yes, Anakin," you sigh, getting annoyed that he's talking over the climax of the movie.

"Would you like it if I chased you?" he asks, his voice suddenly taking on a different tone. "Would you be my final girl?"

You raise your eyebrow at him. "Is this a sex thing?" you ask.

"Yeah," he smirks. "Think about it. You'd play the little, innocent helpless victim and I'd be the big bad killer. Maybe you got wrapped up in a relationship with a guy who's a bad influence nothin' but trouble," he says as he leans closer to you. "He brings you right to me and I have to have you. I get him out of the way first, and after that, you're all mine."

You lean back as Anakin advance, but when the back of your head hits the couch, you realize you have no where else left to go. Your heart begins to race in his chest as his eyes look over you hungrily. You can't deny that you're getting a little excited despite not knowing what Anakin is up to.

Suddenly, Anakin shifts. He leans up a bit and reaches behind him, searching for something in his back pocket. He reveals a small silver pocket knife that glints in the light from the screen.

He flips the blade of the knife up and you can see the sharp silhouette in the dark. It's only about three inches long, nothing like Jason's, but this one is real.

"I've got you now," he smirks.

The arm around your shoulder turns from comforting to restraining. He's holding you firmly in place by your shoulder with his other hand being occupied by the knife.

"You're crazy," you breathe.

"You want me to stop?" Anakin asks, dropping the knife for a moment.

You consider, but you're open to trying new things and this is obviously something that gets Anakin going.

"No," you say. "Just don't kill me."

Anakin grins, his white teeth glowing in the dark. He raises the knife again and lets the tip of the blade catch on the fabric of your shirt.

"I'm not gonna kill you, you're too special. I'm gonna keep you for myself."

Anakin is now leaning over top of you, blocking your view of the TV. His hand holds your shoulder firmly and his knee is resting on the cushion between your legs. You're trapped, but you don't want to get away.

Anakin tips your chin up with the flat of the knife, making you look at him. He tilts his head condescendingly and looks at you with pity.

"You're lucky I'm the one who got you. Some of the other guys aren't so generous. They like to see pretty things like you bleed dry, but I prefer to keep 'em wet," he says.

You're unclear of the story that goes along with this little fantasy, but you suppose that's not necessary to play the role of the helpless victim.

"Why are you doing this to me?" you ask, using a higher pitched voice to play up the desperation.

Anakin seems elated at your participation in his game. "Because I saw you squirmin' during the movie. This shit turns you on, huh?"

You whine when he shakes you. "No it doesn't," you say. "I was scared."

Anakin hums, not believing you. "Maybe you're more of the Ghostface type then. Would you fuck him?"

Suddenly you feel too shy to maintain eye contact with Anakin. You don't know how he read you like that, but he's right. You've always had a thing for Ghostface. Not the killing, but the voice and that flirty tone he used.

"Yeah, you fucking would," Anakin grins. "So that's your type, huh? I can do that for you, baby."

Anakin has never called you baby before and it does something to you. The tenderness of the pet name combined with the sharp metal waving in your face makes for a confusing mixture of desire in your abdomen.

Before your mind can catch up with your body to realize what's happening, Anakin has you on your back on the floor. He's kneeling over you, straddling your torso. In this position, the side of his face is lit by the TV and he looks hotter than ever. The manic grin on his lips, the lust in his eyes, the line of his throat.

"Aren't you gonna try to run?" he asks. When you shake your head no, he laughs. "Some final girl you are. Just handing yourself over to the bad guy to do whatever he pleases with you."

Anakin tosses the knife on the couch, then grabs the waistband of your sweatpants and panties and pulls them down together. You lift your hips to help him get them off and once you're bare, he slots himself between your legs and hooks them over his shoulders.

"And bad guys like me love ruining pretty things like you," he smirks wickedly.

[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.

[amomentsescape]

Can I request a slasher oneshot headcannon with freddy, both leather faces, brahms and Jason were either them or the reader gets drunk (drunk reader for the ones who don't seem like the type to drink) and the sober one tries to hug the drunk one and the drunk one is like "stay away from me b###h I'm in a commented relshinship and they're beautiful" and the sober one knows they're talking about them so they lovingly tuck the drunk one in

Slashers Drunk and In Love Headcanon

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I absolutely love this prompt as well. Something about it is just so heartwarming to write/read! These did get to be a bit long, but I hope you like it either way!

Freddy Krueger

Thank God for Halloween

It was the one night you two could go out together and seem normal to everyone else

There was a horror themed bar in the nearby city that Freddy (of course) chose to go to

So dressed up in your costume with Freddy in his... normal attire, you two went

It was honestly a fun time

Good food, cheap drinks, and loud music

The perfect environment for you two

Although, Freddy seemed to be going a little harder than expected

His excuse being that he "only gets to do this once a year"

So you shrugged it off

As long as he was having a good time, then so were you

He was even able to talk to other people around him, and some of them convinced him to hit the dance floor

He was so drunk at this point that you were worried he wouldn't even make it out of his seat

But he just laughed and ran off with them

You let out a big sigh

After a few minutes of people cheering him on as he writhed around on the sticky floor, you decided that he could use a break from the alcohol

You ordered a water and made your way to him

"Freddy, take this-"

He grabbed it from your hand and began chugging it

His circle of new friends yelling and cheering as he did so

This is how you knew he was truly gone for the night,

But you couldn't help the small smile growing on your face

He seemed happy, and being a dream demon had its benefits

Like no hangovers the next morning

You wiggled your way into the crowd further and wrapped your arm around his waist

But he quickly threw your arm off and looked at you sternly

It was the most sober he seemed in the past 30 minutes

"Don't fucking touch me!" he spat. "I have a hot partner waiting for me at the b-bar," he hiccuped

You couldn't help but laugh at this

You wanted to be mad at his abrasive behavior, but you honestly felt butterflies at his devotion

"Well, your partner is waiting for you in the dream world. They're tired and want to go to bed."

Freddy's head snapped back to you

"Y-you've spoken to (Y/N)?"

You nodded

"Well, shit," he slurred. "Guess it's time."

And suddenly you both were back in his world, his body already tucked into bed

You heard his snores seconds later

"Well, that was easy..."

You gently gave him a kiss on the cheek and tucked yourself in moments later

Thomas Hewitt

For murderous cannibals, the Hewitts knew how to have a good time

They literally made their own alcohol from scratch

And of course, it was stronger than anything you could find in store

You decided to try some at the urgency of the family

Thomas wasn't really much of a drinker usually, but he found himself a little more comfortable since you were with him

You both took a sip of the alcohol together, and you found yourself struggling to keep it down

It burnt like fire

Thomas, however, barely reacted from it

He was a Hewitt after all

"Do you like it?" you asked

He kinda just shrugged and before he knew it, his glass was filled again

He looked at you for a bit, almost like he was asking for permission

You gave him a small smile "This is your family gathering, Thomas. Do whatever you want!"

You could see his eyes crease up a bit as he took a few more slurps

With his lack of tolerance however, it didn't take long for the alcohol to take effect

His body was slightly swaying back and forth, and he couldn't seem to keep his eyes focused on anything

Luda Mae noticed how he was acting and she looked to you

"Why don't ya take him to bed, hun? He could use some rest."

You nodded and helped him out of his seat, making your way to his room

Once he flopped into bed, you leaned down to give him a hug and a kiss like you always did

But you suddenly felt his strong hands against your shoulders

He shook his head back and forth frantically, keeping you away from him

"What's wrong?" you asked

He just pointed to the empty spot next to him in bed, looking back to you and shaking his head some more

It took you a moment to realize what he meant

"Are you waiting for... (Y/N)?" you questioned softly

He nodded

"Ohhhh," you responded, smiling widely. "Well, they're gonna come to bed a little later."

He looked down a bit sadly

"Don't worry, they'll be here once you wake up."

He finally nodded and rolled over, falling asleep quickly

Once you knew he was out, you crawled into bed beside him, still smiling from his loyalty to you

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba has seen his family drink plenty of times

But he honestly didn't like how mean and violent it made some of them

Because of this, he didn't have any interest in drinking the odd smelling juice

So after a long evening outside doing "work," he was worried to see you laughing and hiccuping over a deck of cards and the smelly drink

He quietly sat next to you, not sure how you'd react with that stuff in your system

However, you didn't really pay much mind to him as you continued your card game, barely able to grab them without dropping them back onto the table

You mostly seemed fine to Bubba, but he was still worried

He knew that his family always woke up irritable in the morning, and he was worried that would happen to you

After another half hour at the table, he noticed that your eyes seemed heavy and your head kept drooping towards the table

He finally decided that you should probably head to bed

He stood up and went to grab your hand to help you up, only to be met with a small push

"D-don't. I have a boyfriend who I love very much, so I'm not interested."

He cocked his head to the side at this

The rest of his family broke out into a fit of laughter

He hesitantly tried to reach for you again, only to be met with an annoyed look

"Seriously. Bub-Bubba will be here any minute so stop."

He finally understood that you didn't recognize him right now

The funny juice didn't seem to make you angry, just forgetful

Bubba wasn't sure what to do right then

So he ended up sitting back down, a swarm of butterflies in his chest

But after only a few minutes, you were drooling onto the table fast asleep

With you finally resting, Bubba picked you up and took you to the bedroom, tucking you in gently

He couldn't help but go to sleep beside you smiling giddily at your behavior

Brahms Heelshire

After a long process of manipulation, you finally convinced Brahms to help you with chores

The house was quite a mess, and it was certainly too big to clean all by yourself

While in the kitchen, you found a couple bottles of some old wine shoved in the back of a cabinet

"Hey, Brahms!"

After a few moments, you saw his curly mop of hair peak into the kitchen

"Was this your parents?" you asked

He walked closer to you and inspected the bottles, eventually confirming your speculation

"Hmm. Have you had this before?"

He shook his head

"This stuff seems expensive. Would be waste to just throw this out..."

So that's how you two found yourselves sitting in the middle of the living room, passing this wine bottle back and forth

Brahms wasn't sure how to feel about it at first, his only memories of it being the smell from his mother's breath

But now that he was older and he had you, he gave in

And it honestly wasn't too bad

It was similar to what he had in church growing up

So you both continued to take drinks together, only Brahms seemed to be acting especially woozy

He didn't drink regularly, so this was hitting him harder than you had expected

He excused himself to the bathroom and wobbled down the hall, you trying to conceal your giggles

After 20 minutes however, you grew a bit worried and decided to check in on him

You knocked on the door before carefully opening it

"Brahms...?"

When you peaked in, you saw the lanky man sat in front of the toilet, his head resting on his hand

The toilet water was now a murky red color

"Oh, Brahms."

You sat beside him and began rubbing his back

He suddenly jolted up and backed away from you, his body meeting the wall

You looked at him concerned

"Brahms?"

He shook his head

"How did you get here? Where's (Y/N)?" he asked hoarsely

You tilted your head

"It's me. I'm (Y/N)."

"No, (Y/N) is my beautiful partner. Now leave!"

You could tell his patience was wearing thin and you didn't want to be there for his outburst

"O-oh okay, right. Do you want me to get (Y/N) for you?" you asked

He nodded his head and crawled back to the toilet

You left and stood outside the door for a few minutes, not sure if your plan was going to work or not

You walked back inside carefully and found Brahms in the same position you left him

"Brahms? It's me..."

He looked up and wobbled towards you, his body flailing out at your feet

"(Y/N)? My stomach hurts," he groaned

You held in a laugh as you helped him back to his feet

"Let's go to bed. It'll make you feel better."

He simply nodded and shuffled to the bedroom with you, his dopey smile making your heart warm

Jason Voorhees

Jason was always told as a child that alcohol was the Devil's blood and should be avoided at all cost

This made sense to him since all the counselors and stupid teens seemed to be indulging in the beverage whenever he got to them

So he almost found himself in a frenzy when he saw you holding a familiar can in your hand one night

He grabbed the drink from you and threw it outside, its contents spilling into the dirt

"Jason!" you yelled

He just crossed his arms

"It's just a drink, Jason. It's not gonna kill me!'

He tilted his head at you, confused

You stood up and walked to the cooler, opening it up and grabbing a new can

Where did all those come from?

"People drink this stuff all the time," you argued, popping open the tab. "They even have this stuff in church."

Jason uncrossed his arms at this

He thought this stuff was bad

You went back to what you were doing, drinking the beverage and still feeling a bit peeved at the loss of your first drink

Jason almost sat down next to you, but he began to hear rustling outside the cabin, causing him to leave quickly

It took him quite a while to catch everyone since he had a couple runners

But he finally was able to return home

When he walked in, he saw you passed out on the couch, several cans scattered around you

He became worried and rushed to you, shaking you awake

You drearily looked up at him and quickly backed further into the couch

"Leave me alone. My boyfriend will be back any minute!" you slurred

He tilted his head

You began calling his name, making him even more confused

He was right in front of you??

"I hope he comes back soon," you muttered, turning around

Jason stood there for a bit, feeling confused but also a bit warm

The fact that you called out for him in your drunken state made him feel cared for

He lovingly reached down and grabbed a blanket from the arm rest, spreading it out over your form

[megamindsecretlair]

What You Deserve, Part 3

Pairing: Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Toxic filth. Infidelity. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (male receiving) , fingering (female receiving) teasing, cum play, dirty talk, praise kink, Daddy kink, dick worship, all consensual.

Summary: After finding some damning evidence against your husband, you can't help wallowing. You fall into a bit of a spiral, wondering what your next move should be. Sometimes, you just need a little Stunna to make things better.

Word Count: 4,649k

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: Listen, I know. Idk why this took so long to write. I think I'm still pleasantly traumatized from Watchmen. IYKYK. Please consider commenting and reblogging to save a writer's life. It's important for their enrichment.

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @melaninpov @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @cardi-bre91 @jay-mach @sageispunk @ciaqui @yourofficialgal @harmshake @amethyst09 @satoruya @theunsweetenedtruth

By the time you were done tearing through your bedroom and home office, you started to feel like a lunatic somewhere between pulling out drawers and flipping over couch cushions. You weren’t sure why, but finding the phone unlocked some kind of jealousy streak in you. You were obsessed. 

You knew what the deal was, but your husband was logical. You honestly thought he’d be too boring to cheat. And cheat with who? He was always at work and he didn’t have any female secretaries. That was a condition of you agreeing to become a stay at home mom. You didn’t want him bringing home any cooties.

And yet he did anyway. You had no room to judge. You had let Stunna in twice now. You took that man home and let him do filthy things to you. The petty side of you, however, rationalized that your husband stepped out first. Even if he bought the second phone a day ago, a week ago, or a year ago, he made that decision first. He chose someone else while you were at home raising his kids. 

And that burned. It burned like acid, clawing its way up your chest and burrowing deep inside. Baby Hands had the nerve to cheat on you? With his disproportionate body, small hands, small teeth, and ugly ass personality? 

You rubbed your head and sat down on the lone couch cushion you hadn’t flipped over yet. Good thing the asshole was gone for two weeks and you had time to put things back to sorts. It was driving you insane looking for…what?

Proof? Wasn’t the second phone enough? 

No. Anyone could excuse a second phone for work. Especially with the way that he worked in finance. He was constantly on call, working on huge contracts that required his attention. You’d caught him a few times in the office, pouring over documents and speaking gibberish. He had those calls on speaker and you heard him talking to a man. 

Unless your husband was secretly gay, you didn’t know where he found the energy or time to cheat. And how dare he bring that shit home to you! He hadn’t touched you in going on a year now. 

That was no excuse to cheat yourself, but shit. You were still sexy. You were still worthy of desire. Stunna taught you that. 

After you found the phone three nights ago, you hadn’t had the time to text Stunna. He texted you, telling you that he missed you. He was even on his best behavior. Nothing freaky or nasty. Just…wanted to see how your day was going. It was cute and touching. But right now, you wanted hellfire and brimstone. 

You rubbed your head once more, trying to figure out places where you wouldn’t look. It had to be somewhere your husband frequented that you didn’t bother with. When he was home, he was either crashing into bed or firing away at his laptop. 

“Mommy?” Noah asked. 

You looked up at Noah standing in the doorway with his sister peeking out next to him. It will always melt your heart the way the twins held onto each other like best friends. You knew that when they got older and developed more individuality, these days would seem like the distant past. 

“Yes, baby?” You asked. Embarrassment flooded through you. They shouldn’t see you like this. Falling apart because of a damn phone. 

“Are you playing hide and seek by yourself?” Noah asked, a small toothless grin on his face.

You chuckled. “Now, why would I do that when I have two of the best players in the house?” You asked. 

The twins grinned. “It’s messy in here!” Naomi said.

“Yes, baby, it’s messy in here,” you said. You looked over the office. It looked like a tornado had thrown up here. 

“Daddy doesn’t like it when it’s messy,” Naomi chimed in. “He says everything important has a place.” Naomi puffed out her cheeks and deepened her voice. Which only made her voice a little less squeaky. 

You laughed and shook your head. Leave it to your kids to get your head out of your ass. “You’re absolutely right. It’s sunny outside, what are you doing inside the house?” You asked.

You stood up and corralled your kids to soak up the sun, telling them how beautiful their skin is. You told them that the sun loves them so much, it gave them beautiful, dark skin to protect themselves. But that did absolutely mean they should be outside.

They ran into the backyard giggling. You watched as they tossed a ball back and forth, making up some kind of game you never knew the rules to. As you watched, you thought over what Naomi said. 

Your husband did say that a lot. He was the type to have all his little ducks in a row. Including his cheating apparently. Had you not found his phone by accident, who knew how long he would have gone on with it. Months? Years? Would you have woken up some time, sixteen years later to find out that he had an entire other family? 

You shivered. You did not want to end up like one of those true crime shows. Where you found out he was cheating and he offed you to be with his other baby mama. It was sickening. The not knowing was eating you alive. 

While the kids’ laughter filled your ears, you went back into the office. You headed for the file cabinet and flipped through his receipts. He kept copies of everything for at least three years and then routinely shredded them when he was sure that they were no longer needed. 

He had folders for everything, neatly lined up. You took out a huge stack from a few months ago. Mortgage, bills, groceries, and the like were all neatly stacked away. Including…extra expenses. 

You took out that folder and flipped through it. There were receipts from lingerie places. Expensive lingerie. Bracelets, necklaces…your husband was a regular fucking Santa Claus. You read over some of the pieces, things he’d stopped buying you years ago. After the kids.

Tears blurred your vision as you saw just how busy your man had been. So much for that. No wonder he didn’t want to touch you anymore. He found some floosy to bend over backwards. Keeping himself in shape? All for her. And not for the woman he fucking married. 

You let the tears fall, mourning for the marriage and life you thought you were living. You became complacent, allowing yourself to routinely get played. For what? For what?

You felt like screaming. You felt like dropping your kids off at your parents’ and showing up in Miami ready to catch a case. The love died a long time ago. It was the audacity. Because you were still fine as hell. And he was a fuck nigga for trying to dim your shine. Whoever he was with paled in comparison to you. 

You took pictures of all of the receipts in case his ass wanted to come home lying. You were going to the bank in the morning to get more financial records to bury his ass. Dumb ass. For all his self-importance, he forgot who the fuck he married.

You looked around the office, thinking of the house in general. You were going to clean that man out of everything he fucking owned. 

Hurt, pissed off, confused, you stood up and left the room, closing the door to the nonsense. You had kids to look after and make sure they didn’t miss their father’s absence too much. 

You tried to resist, but really, was there any point anymore? While the kids were away the next day, you called Stunna. He was the remedy you needed. You didn’t know what divine intervention placed him in your path or made you take him home. But you thanked the universe and grabbed hold with both hands. 

Stunna arrived promptly at noon, showing up looking exquisite in dark gray sweats and a blood red orange T-shirt. It should have looked funny, but on him, he just looked fine as hell. He was rubbing his hands when you opened the door and his face split into an open grin showing off a row of grills that flashed. 

You had answered the door in your robe, the silky lavender one. You were surprised it still fit, but you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The material looked amazing against your skin and you felt sexy, wild, and free while you wore it. It could also be because you weren’t wearing anything underneath it. 

Stunna’s eyes immediately traced your body and you felt it like a physical caress. You pulled him inside, locking the door behind you. Stunna was right there, pushing you against the door. 

“Fuck I missed you,” he said, his deep groan sending all kinds of shivers throughout your body. 

“I missed you,” you said. You grinned, looking up at his tall frame. 

“Hmm, how much you miss me?” He asked. He brought up one of his fingers to your chin, lifting it, to stare deeper into his molten brown eyes. His other hand traveled south, trailing down between your breasts and further still. That hand lifted the hem of your short robe, fingers rubbing against your exposed thighs.

Your legs tingled, feeling like he had more than two hands. You felt him everywhere, all at once. It was insane to want him as badly as you did. It had nothing to do with your husband. It had nothing to do with finding out that that bastard had been cheating for way longer than you thought.

You wanted to feel sexy again. Feel like you were capable of driving someone insane with lust. You hated to admit it but…fuck, your confidence was shot. You spent the whole night last night, crying into your glass of wine feeling rejected by your own damn husband. As much as you tried to talk a big game, you just felt ugly.

And the one person who didn’t make you feel ugly at the moment was the gorgeous man before you. 

He licked his lips slow, a tiny peek at his pink tongue swiping across his juicy lips. His eyes softened a fraction, while his hand slipped between your legs. Finding no barrier, he hummed low in his throat. His fingers eagerly searched through your folds, finding you wet and dripping already.

The anticipation while you got ready made you feel like a younger version of yourself. Back to your early days when you were invincible and no one could tell you a damn thing. 

“All wet and pretty for me, huh?” He asked. There was something so naughty about the way words dropped from his lips. He could say the most innocent sentence and make it sound salacious. 

You nodded, pouting, and turning doe eyes to him. He slipped one long, rough finger inside you and you hissed, arching your back against the door. Your hands came up to grip his shoulders for purchase. 

The finger he held under your chin dropped and he leaned on that arm against the door. His hand was massive next to your head. His breathing grew labored as if he were the one being driven to the height of pleasure.

You’d known him for such a short while and yet he knew you so well. Knew what you needed. Knew what you craved. He stared into your eyes, brows furrowed in concentration, while he continued to finger fuck you. He pushed his finger up to the knuckle and rubbed deep within you, making your knees buckle and your toes curl. 

“You ain’t been takin’ care of yourself,” he said. It wasn’t a question but you shook your head anyway. Between finding the phone and getting the kids together for their play and tearing through the house like a madwoman, you didn’t have time for anything. 

Stunna leaned down and pressed a hot, wet kiss to your lips. He lingered a little while he increased his pace.

“I won’t tease you too bad today, then,” he said. He flipped his wrist over and then made a “come hither” motion, rubbing right against your sweet spot. You began to whine and moan, shaking against the doorway. 

He didn’t let up and didn’t change his pace, stroking you without mercy until you were falling apart on his fingers. Soaking them. You dripped down your thigh and fell against him, your cheek resting against his broad chest.

He kissed your forehead and you sunk even further into him. You didn’t have to worry if he’d catch you or not. He was simply there. An immovable rock that you so desperately needed.

You were floating in an afterglow, but almost immediately, ugly thoughts reared in your head. Thoughts tumbled one right after the other about how your marriage was ruined. You were going to have to break up your family and figure out custody.

Your husband was going to be a dick about the whole thing. Especially when he’d been an absentee father even while in the house. To your kids, their dad was just some man who bought them things on birthdays and holidays. He was never there. And yet, it would crush them all the same not living in the same house with him. 

Tears gathered in your eyes. Fuck, this was a huge mistake. A glaring mistake that you should not have done. You should not have called Stunna. Least of all Stunna. So what…you could use him to make yourself feel pretty? 

God. You were embarrassing. You moved away from Stunna but he held on, trying to look you in the eye. You avoided looking at him, clinging to him since he wasn’t going to let you go.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You shook your head. Your throat began to ache. Too clogged with racing thoughts and conflicting emotions. You were horny, confused, pissed off, elated. Fuck. You were a proper fucking mess and the least sexy thing in the room at the moment. 

“Um, maybe you should go,” you whispered. You didn’t want to ruin his shirt. You made to move again and Stunna leaned back, looking into your glistening eyes.

“Naw, tell me what’s wrong. Did I hurt you?” He asked.

“No!” You said. You shut that shit down. He’d been nothing but wonderful and awesome to you. Dropping everything just to come over and fuck you. You were the messed up one. And it wasn’t polite to talk to your sneaky link about your crumbling marriage. 

Stunna took your hand and led you to the couch. He sat down, spreading his long legs. He pulled you to sit on his lap, curling in close. You rested your head on his shoulder and he idly rubbed your back. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said.

“It’s nothing, I promise,” you sniffled. You wanted to get up and be a big girl. But he was so warm and soft. He smelled faintly like fresh bread and you wondered what he’d been up to all day. Or the past few days. 

You wanted to know everything about him. How he spent his time, what he thought about. You wanted to listen to his voice recite the most beautiful and heartbreaking poetry. 

Stunna kissed your forehead. “You can talk to me about anything. Even if it’s about your husband. That nigga don’t scare me,” he said.

You chuckled. But you also shook your head. That wasn’t…proper, right? There was something off about that. Then again, you were in your home snuggled up with a man that wasn’t your husband. 

Pot meet kettle. Your thoughts were still jumbled. You wanted to slunk off to be miserable somewhere. You didn’t want Stunna to see you like this. It was too early into…whatever this was. 

“You can’t scare me away, you know,” Stunna said softly. His fingers worked magic on your body, relaxing you inch by inch. You felt drowsy in his arms. Protected. 

You sighed. Fuck it. You were already crying and snotting all over him. You couldn’t get any lower from here. You laid out everything for him. How the two of you met. When you were both young and had an insatiable thirst for life. 

How kids were too far in the future, something to happen later. Only later happened much quicker. When you found out you were having twins, you’d never seen your husband so animated. He went crazy. Bought all the baby name books to pick out two cute names. While you were craving weird shit or crying for the millionth time, your husband would plot out your entire future. 

Sports events, plays, raising them together. Yet, after you had them, he was still sweet. But began drifting away. He got too serious. Too caught up in the fact that you had to buy two of everything. Double the diapers. Double the clothes and shoes. Double the toys.

Finances nearly drove you two apart. Until he got in with his company and quickly promoted. Working overtime to keep a roof over your heads and his kids fed. Keeping you secure became the ultimate goal and somewhere along the way, that initial fire died out. Wasn’t even a candle anymore.

You weren’t sure who the fuck you married. Certainly not someone who cheated so fucking easily. Who risked his life as well as yours. Your tests came back negative, thank god, but considering he hadn’t touched you in forever, you were pretty sure you were safe. Besides, you already let Stunna nut in you. 

Unburdening yourself felt good. You had become too isolated in this house. Feeling like you were in a tomb. You and your thoughts echoing in the silent chamber until you were driven mad with loneliness. It felt good being this close to someone again.  

You sighed against Stunna. “Thank you. I don’t know how I can ever repay you,” you said. 

Stunna kissed your forehead. “You don’t ever have to repay me. I’m sorry your bitch ass husband is doing this to you. You too pretty to ever cry,” he said. 

You giggled. “You are too good to my ego,” you said. 

Stunna chuckled, his hands tracing random patterns on your back. “You good for mine too,” he said.

You turned your head to look at him. He looked so innocent sitting there, like there were no thoughts behind those pretty eyes. But the more you stared, the more his eyes seemed to narrow like he was seeing straight to your soul. It was scary as hell, but also a huge turn on. 

Maybe all you needed was a sounding board. Someone to not make you feel so crazy. As you told him the whole sordid affair, he acknowledged that you weren’t tripping. That no, that bum ass nigga was likely cheating and you deserved so much better. 

You tucked those words away into your heart and vowed to cherish them forever. For now…

You grinned and slid off of his lap. He looked at you curiously while you reached for his sweats, pulling them down and freeing his girthy dick.

Fuck he was huge. Thick. The fat head twitching a bit. You licked your lips. You loved making him squirm. 

You licked the tip of his dick, tasting his salty precum. You moaned at the taste, diving in for more and more like you were licking an ice cream cone. He was so large, that you had to fist him to hold him still while you sucked him down.

“Fuuck,” he groaned. His hands flew to your head, digging in for purchase. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

You grinned, suckling him back down. He twitched more in your hands. You worshiped his dick. Knelt at the offering of a god. You sucked and moaned around his dick, applying pressure in alternating waves that made his knees jump. 

His tug at your scalp turned painful, but fuck, it only turned you on more. You loved to please him. To accept him into your mouth and wrap your lips around his fat dick. You drooled, gathering up your saliva to use your hands where your mouth couldn’t reach. You could only take him so far.

Stunna let out a low, tortured groan before unleashing his cum. You drank it all down, sliding the heady concoction down your throat. 

Stunna huffed, panting, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. How were you ever going to keep your hands off of him now?

It was like your husband cheating was exactly the excuse you needed. Asking for a divorce because you were bored or felt unloved was a stupid ass excuse. But asking for a divorce because his lying ass was cheating and you had receipts was the cherry on the cake. 

Stunna grinned, pulling his shirt off and revealing his muscled chest. You whined, running your hands across the planes of his abs. He helped you out of the robe and then he stood up. He shed his shoes and pants, discarding it all into a pile next to the couch.

He pushed you down, face on the couch and ass in the air. He played with your pussy, getting you nice and wet before he was stroking inside, working his dick in.

You whined and moaned, throwing your hand back against his chest. “Fu-too big!” You screamed.

It was one thing trying to get that animal into your mouth. Another entirely to slide inside you. He growled, rubbing your clit. You jerked forward, falling face forward onto the couch.

He gripped your wrists in one hand, pinning it to the top of your ass. “I already nutted in this pussy once so I know you can take it. That shit don’t work no more,” he growled low, filling up the living room and yet making it feel small. Intimate.

He kissed along your back and rubbed furiously at your clit, making you gush around his dick. “That’s it. Let Daddy in,” Stunna moaned.

Fuck, you moaned too. “Oh shit, fuck me,” you cried out. 

“Don’t worry, I know exactly what to do,” he said. You could picture him biting his lip while he increased his thrusts. 

Your voice was muffled against the couch cushion, but you were screaming as he slid in more easily. Somehow, your pussy adjusted to the size of him and he moved like this was his last night on Earth. 

You had no way to push against him since he trapped your wrists. “Fu-fuck, Daddy. Fuck, Daddy,” you moaned.

“Yuh, let me hear it,” he moaned.

You were careening head first into another orgasm, shutting your eyes to the sheer onslaught of pleasure. He still kept up his pace while playing with your clit. You were tag teamed for explosive pleasure.

Another orgasm snuck up on the heels of the second. You were beyond words. Beyond sounds. Just rough exclamations leaving your mouth as he pounded into you like you stole something. 

Shit, maybe you did with the way he was fucking you. 

“Don’t get quiet now, baby. Let me hear it. Sing for me, baby,” he groaned.

“Stunna-fuck! Feel so good, so good. So good, so good,” you couldn’t stop chanting. He did feel so amazing. Fucking you deep. You didn’t know how he went through life with that big dick and didn’t tilt over. 

Maybe that was why he was so damn tall. He needed to be in order to balance that monster. 

Stunna withdrew his fingers, slapping your ass. It was a wet, loud smack that made you groan. “Do it again, Daddy. Spank that ass,” you moaned.

“Fuck, tell me what you need, baby,” Stunna said.

“You. You. Just you,” you drooled onto the couch.

“Give me one more so I can nut deep in this pussy,” Stunna said. He pushed your body down until you were nearly flat against the cushion. He raised your hips, finding a way to get even deeper.

His dick completely filled you up. You felt possessed. Owned. Suffocated with his dick. 

“Stunna, please–I–” You didn’t think you could cum again. You were going to have to replace the couch cushions or something. You felt it getting wetter by the minute. Your essence dripped down your leg.

“When I tell you to do something, you fuckin’ do it,” Stunna growled.

You exploded. You screamed out in pleasure, throat raw from the effort. You gripped his dick with your pussy, fighting to keep him inside while you were breaking apart. 

He groaned and then he was nutting in you once more. Your pussy throbbed and twitched in time with his pulsing dick and your eyes rolled back into your head. You saw stars exploding behind your eyelids. 

Stunna let go of your wrists. You tried to lift yourself up from the couch, but you were weak as hell. 

Stunna slowly pulled out so that he didn’t hurt you. You groaned all the same. He truly was too damn big to be whipping that shit like he was. It was a wonder that he didn’t have a million baby mamas stashed all over the city. 

How the fuck anyone let that man out the house was a mystery. He definitely needed to be tied up in the basement for your pleasure and your pleasure only. You smiled thinking of such a thing.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he said. He kissed your forehead. You melted. Kissing your forehead after some nasty ass shit only made you want to sink into the cushion and never come back up for air.

“Go run yo ass a bath. I’ll get dinner going,” he said.

“But–”

“Do what Daddy tell you,” he said, his voice rough and accepting no arguments. He leaned over you, planting kisses all over your face until you were squealing your assent.

“Okay, okay!” You screamed. 

You didn’t call him over so that he could cook dinner for your family. It didn’t seem right that he cooked it and never got to eat it.

But if you were going to divorce the kids’ father, you didn’t need to bring Stunna around them. As a fun “uncle” or not. No, you needed the divorce to be as clean as you could make it. In the sense that your kids wouldn’t know that you were about to snatch their father through the mud and back out the other side.

You drowsily got to your feet, legs wobbling. Stunna moaned and smacked your ass. “Don’t take too long or else I’ll have to come find you,” he warned.

You winked at him as you sauntered towards the stairs. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you said. 

Stunna chuckled, crossing over to you in one long stride. He gripped both sides of your face, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. If your legs were weak before, you damn sure couldn’t walk now.

He pulled back slowly, eyes still closed. You watched as he slowly opened them. “Everything is going to work out. If you need me, call me. I have no issues taking care of your husband.”

You knew he meant murder and that thought should terrify you. He was shitty sure, but you didn’t want your kids to grow up with a dead father. That was a different can of worms. Best for them to see who their dad really was.

You leaned up and kissed him one more time. “I know where to find you. Thank you,” you said. 

Sometimes, that was really all it took. Someone telling you that everything was going to be okay. Whether it was a lie or not, didn’t matter.

Daddy said it would be okay. And so it would be.

There's always more to love!

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 1 | Part 2

[winterchimez]

Teach Me How To Love | Kim Sunwoo

summary: the campus heartthrob whom you've had a crush on for the longest time finally asks you out on a date. since you have never been on a date before, you decided to elicit the help of your best friend, Kim Sunwoo, for some romantic advice.

pairing: f!ckboy Sunwoo x g.n!reader

genre: suggestive

warnings: kissing, making out with the one and only Kim Sunwoo

word count: 2,251

a/n: this is... umm yeah. (i'm still learning and new to writing suggestive so pls bear with me lmao 😭)

"He asked me out."

"Asked who now?"

"He asked me out, Yuna!!" You grabbed the shoulders of your best friend, shaking them vigorously.

That was when the sudden realisation hit your friend, and she formed an 'o' from her mouth, knowing whom exactly you were referring to. 

You have had the biggest crush on Lee Hyunjae since your freshman year. Of course, who wouldn't be? He is literally the heartthrob of your campus. Everyone, including yourself, would do anything to get the man's attention. Even a smile or the slightest moment he turns straight in your direction works either way. 

It wasn't in your third senior year that you got to pair up with the infamous man in one of your science classes. Biology. How fun. 

Your lecturer chose you both to be lab partners throughout the semester, and that was when you had a legitimate conversation with the man himself. Oh, how you were so nervous back then, rubbing your palms together almost every minute, ducking your head down because you were too shy to look straight into the man's eyes. 

However, his calming and friendly persona broke off that wall between you two almost immediately and little did you know, the both of you hit off as good friends. You both started hanging out casually, even after classes, seemingly bumping into one another in the hallway lockers. 

In other words, you were whipped for the man, and when he finally asked you out, you immediately accepted the offer. 

If you were like the rest, you would've felt happy, even excited, to be going on a date with your long-time crush. You, on the other hand, felt the opposite. You were panicking, nervous, and terrified of what was to come. 

Your friend, Yuna, clearly notices your demeanour and proceeds to interrogate you on what's the matter, and that is when you let out the most inner thoughts of yours that have been bugging you for the longest time. 

Clearly, you had zero to no skills on what to do when you're out on your first date. You've seen in hundreds of films and read many rom-com books how holding hands is the least you could do on the first date, to having a passionate kiss if both sides were up for it. 

You were stressed out and had to do something to calm your nervousness. That was when a lightbulb dings right in your friend's mind, and she knew precisely the solution to your problem. 

"I dare you to elicit some help from Sunwoo." 

You paused. Sunwoo? Kim Sunwoo? Your childhood best friend? 

You were confused at the beginning as to why she would even bring him up in the first place. But as you connect the dots, the sudden realisation hits you. 

Kim Sunwoo. You both have practically grown up together since kindergarten, and you are still neighbours to this day. He was the one friend who has always stood by your side from the start, no matter how messed up or crazy your situation might be. He was also the person you'd always rant to, and he'd be more than happy to comfort you if that meant for you to feel better. 

How close were the both of you? Well, close enough that you both have determined that every Friday of the week is a movie night in his apartment that he just recently signed the lease to at the start of the year. You'd both always get the cosiest blankets and drape them over you both while seemingly cuddling with one another to enjoy the films with Sunwoo's handy-dandy mini projector that he bought for a pretty reasonable price on Amazon.

Although there was one problem, your best friend is actually the f!ckboy of the campus.

It did not start out this way, though. Neither of you knew what snapped in Sunwoo's mind. Your only guess was that he was enjoying adulthood to the fullest and getting used to university life. After attending several frat parties, having a little too much to drink and eventually hooking up with so many different women, it was too late for the male to turn back. 

You never judged him for that. It was fine by you since he still considers you to be his best friend, and you both technically still hang out with one another once every week. 

So being the f!ckboy, he knew all of the necessary basics and tricks on how one should act around their partner, especially on the first date.

Right? 

So here you were, standing right outside Sunwoo's apartment door. 

You contemplated on even knocking on the door, for you knew it wasn't even a Friday; it was a Tuesday, to be exact. And god knows whoever he is making out with on the other side. 

Because as far as you know, he was pretty “active” throughout the week except for the day you get to hang out with him. 

You paused. You kept bringing your hand up to the door and then down. Your mind was literally at a tug-of-war at this point. 

To do it? Or not to do it. 

Eventually, you huffed and returned your hands to the door until it swung open and bumped you on your forehead. 

A woman dressed in a periwinkle lace spaghetti strap sleepwear with a grey jacket draped across her shoulders noticed your presence. She immediately got you up on your knees, constantly apologising and asking if you were alright. 

You knew that grey jacket. It belonged to Sunwoo. And it was the same exact one that you always got to wear whenever you came over because you liked how it always made you feel warm and comfortable. 

But you have to brush the thoughts off immediately. Sunwoo is a f!ckboy for goodness sake, and these things are practically an everyday thing to do for the guy. 

Just as you were about to reassure the woman that you were okay, a head popped out of the door, and it was the guy you just had in mind.

"Care to explain the sudden purpose of the visit, my friend?" Sunwoo asks while he makes a warm mug of hot cocoa in the kitchen. 

While you sat at the kitchen counter, you contemplated for a while before finally telling him how the campus heartthrob had finally asked you out on the first date.

And how you actually came to elicit his help and advice. 

It took a while for Sunwoo to process the message, and he burst out in laughter once he got it. In return, you started throwing daggers through your eyes right at him as you scowled at the man. 

"I'm sorry, but this is just too funny for me." He continued laughing while placing the ready-made hot cocoa onto the countertop. 

You pout. "And I thought you'd actually help a best friend out." 

"Okay, okay, I would do anything for my bestie. So tell me-". He slips right into the chair beside you while plopping one of his arms onto the countertop, resting his face on his palm as he stares deep into your eyes. “What do you exactly need my help with?” 

"I don't know. Teach me how to kiss, flirt, and all that jazz, I guess." You shrugged, hoping that he clearly gets the message that you're in dire need of some basic love lessons to please your date. 

The man moves a few inches closer to you now, close enough that you feel his breath. He was studying your face intensely as if some sort of dirt or dust was sitting somewhere at the top of your face. He then suddenly backs away immediately, giving you a hesitant look. 

"Are you sure, Y/N? That you want to do this?" Sunwoo asked with a serious tone, which was unusual for you since you were used to seeing the goofy side of him. But if he were to ask in such a manner, you knew that he wasn't joking around. 

"You do know that if you want me to teach you how to kiss, we literally have to kiss one another, right?"

Oh. 

You were new to all of this. Hell, you have never kissed anyone in your entire lifetime. And now, you were about to give your first not to your lover but to your best friend. It all comes down to whether you are willing to do it. 

Kissing Sunwoo also meant he would give you an actual physical demonstration of the different ways to kiss or even make out with one another, which may include some physical touches on certain parts of one another's body. 

"Yes, Sunwoo. You have my consent." You replied nonchalantly, anticipating whatever move he would put up with you. 

But the man was still frozen in his seat, not moving an inch. "I don't know, Y/N. Are you sure this won't, you know, get weird between us? I care a lot about you, and I do not want something like this to ruin the relationship we've built over the years." 

You could see where the man was coming from because this was the main reason you were contemplating even stepping into his apartment for this crazy love lesson situation. 

However, it was now or never. And if this was all for your first date with your long-term crush, you're down for it. 

"Yes. One hundred percent." 

Like that, Sunwoo's facial expressions shifted as he licked his plumped lips. He then snakes one of his free arms around your waist as he inches closer. 

"Tell me when you want to stop." 

Before you knew it, he closed the space between you, and both lips were now against one another.

Holy shit. You are literally kissing your best friend now. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you moved one arm around his neck while the other moved up into his hair. 

God, his hair felt so soft. 

Sunwoo chuckled between the kisses. "Look at you go, Y/N." 

He pulled away briefly, only to whisper in your ear. "I had no idea you tasted this good, baby." 

Leaning back in, he began kissing you passionately, and eventually, it became a hot mess. His lips began searching other areas to nibble on, starting from your earlobe and then down to your neck, where he began to suck. In return, you elicit a soft moan which sounded way too sweet to his ears. 

You were floating, and damn, did it feel so good. 

Sunwoo seemingly slipped one of his hands under your shirt, earning a gasp from you.

"Sunwoo-" You gasped, trying to catch your breath. "Aren't you—supposed to go step-by-step?" 

Sunwoo smirked against your jaw as he gently brushed his lips against your soft milky skin. "Baby, sometimes things just go with the flow." 

While he rests his face on the crook of your neck, his hands are now down to your thighs, rubbing them gently. "Wrap your legs around my waist, and jump." 

You were stunned. "J-jump? What are you even-"

"Trust me, Y/N. I'll catch you if that's what you're worried about." 

"You won't drop me, right?"

He chuckled. "Only a fool would drop a person like you." 

With your legs wrapped around him, he carries you towards his bedroom, slowly laying you on his bed. 

This is dangerous. And this is all so wrong. 

You only came to ask for advice on how to kiss your crush, not to have a steamy make-out with your teacher in question, Kim Sunwoo. 

But why did all of these feel so good? Why couldn't you say stop? In fact, you wanted more. You wished that all of these would not stop and that you'd be down to continue with the man himself. 

So many thoughts were going through your mind as you reminded yourself of the true purpose of your visit, your campus heartthrob. But you knew you are so screwed at this point, and there’s no turning back anymore. 

Both of you deepen the kiss, and Sunwoo’s tongue slips right into yours, exploring your mouth. In return, your soft whimpers eventually turned into pleasurable moans to the man himself. 

God, Sunwoo. Give me more. Give me-

And then it all came to a halt. Sunwoo backed away, leaving you both to catch your breath as he stood up from his bed. 

“I think. We are done for the day.” 

Just as you were about to ask him why he even stopped in the first place, you were cut off by the man's quick response, also seemingly turning his flushed face towards the side. 

“I’ve taught you more than enough to please your date.” Clearing his throat, he helps you to get back up on your feet. 

“Oh- um… yeah. You know, thanks Sunwoo. For everything.” 

As he escorts you towards the front door, that familiar soft bubbly smile that you were accustomed to is plastered on his face. “All the best with Hyunjae. I look forward to our next movie night, Y/N.” 

“Ye-yeah!! I’ll keep you updated. Good night, Sunwoo.” 

As you turned your heel and headed toward your apartment, Sunwoo immediately slammed the door shut once you were out of sight.

His back now rests against the door, and he tries to calm his fast-beating heart down.

It was then he realised that kissing you felt entirely different from all the other women he had ever made out with.

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @flwoie @hokupi @zzoguri @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics (join my permanent taglist here!)

[alchely]

My Top Gallavich fics

So, under the advice of the lovely @iangallagherisadeadman I've decided to compile a favorites Gallavich fic list along with a brief rec of each, this won't be a strict top 10 cause I'm not gonna torture myself into excluding some of these stories on some made-up self imposed arbitrary rules.

A bunch of disclaimers: most of these fics are long fics, going from 30k words up, I'm not purposefully excluding shorter fics, I have read plenty of them, but they do have a harder time sticking in my head months after reading.

Most of these fics will be explicit, just read the tags on the fic itself if you want to find out more.

Some of these fics don't have links because the authors chose to lock them and as such make them unlinkable, in order to read them you will need to go through the author's page while you're logged in your AO3 account.

This ended up ballooning out of control and is A LOT longer than ten fics, I apologize in advance :p.

YOU'LL NEVER SEE US AGAIN – spoonfulstar - 231k words

Mickey and Ian have been students at Marceline boarding school their whole lives, as their time at the institute draws toward the end they will start to discover many things, about themselves, about each other and about the world they live in.

THIS FIC! I CRIED! The number of fanfiction that are able to make me cry can be counted on a singular hand, the emotional stakes get higher and higher as the story goes on, leading to a beautiful and bittersweet climax.

This story will make you think and feel deeply about topics you'd never think a shameless fic would delve into.

I am obsessed with Mickey in this fic, he and Ian grow up in an environment that could not be more removed from South Side Chicago and yet his personality is still so recognizably and distinctly Mickey.

The story goes very dark at times, and the fic itself could be considered lengthy, but I assure you the author has made sure to not make you feel it. Those 200k words flowed so well the story did not feel long at all.

HELP ME (TEAR DOWN MY REASON) – wehangout - 34k words

Mickey is a detective and Ian becomes a suspect in an investigation except Mickey already knows him because he's his favorite dancer.

This fic falls under the umbrella of fics where “Mickey is so in love with Ian he does something unbelievably crazy”.

Oooh boy, this fic, it's written in second person (yes you've read that right), tbh out of all fics I've read from this author I think this one was the easiest to adjust mentally to the change in perspective.

I loved Mickey’s “love” in this, just… This raw connection to Ian, the perfect cocktail of feelings, I could read that all day long.

IN ANOTHER WORLD – Roryonic - 249k words

Mickey does not get sent to prison at the end of S5, what happens after and how his presence influences future events (mostly Ian, but also every other Gallagher as well as his own family).

As far as I'm concerned this fic is the closest to a perfect S6 and beyond fix-it. The dialogue writing in this story is so close to canon Shameless that I could picture entire scenes in my head with the actors playing the characters, with their body and personality quirks.

Sometimes I find myself describing this fic like it's the actual show's deleted scenes, “Look, Mickey has his own storyline! And Mandy is here! And the existence of Yevgeni does not become a plot hole!”

There are some Mickey lines in this fic that to me are as canon as if they'd been in the show. Absolutely iconic writing.

I love this author so here's a rec of some of their other longfics, however I highly suggest a lot of their other much shorter stuff as well:

BATTLESHIPS AND LOVE BOATS: Ian and Mickey start their “no strings attached” kind of sex relationship a little later than canon but their attraction and love is just as strong. This is a sort of High School AU that turns into a Prison AU that turns into something else and every shift is just as lovely as the next.

YOU SMELL LIKE LOVE: Ian and Mickey are childhood friends, to the point that the rest of the Gallaghers might as well consider Mickey a seventh brother, mmmh, I sure wonder how things will start to change. Look, I never thought I'd love a childhood friends AU for Gallavich yet here I am, if it's good it's good.

ME AND THE DEVIL: Mickey unconsciously calls for a vengeance demon and Ian Gallagher shows up at his door, because Mickey is a stubborn dumbass they fall in love instead. This story has a lot of twists and turns and the premise is only the very beginning of the story. I LOVED it!

THE INCREASINGLY POOR DECISIONS OF IAN GALLAGHER – Shamelessquestions - 309k words

Ian is a dancer in a club, he accidentally gets involved in the affair of a dangerous mafia don, but the true danger is the attraction he and the mafioso’s right hand Mickey feel for each other as soon as they meet.

What. A. Classic. Truly, an unforgettable story, and I don't mean this in hyperbole, I read this story around… 2016/2017 during my second round in the Shameless fandom, then I read countless other fics in a lot of other fandom and yet this story was the only one that my mind retained from back then, to the point that I could still remember some of the finer details as well as the final plot twists when I came back to reread it.

The plot is constructed beautifully and the original characters (part of the Shamelessquestions fanfiction universe, as they come back time and time again in every one of their AU to fulfill their role in the story) are just as vibrant.

What a story, truly.

Favorite original character in this AU: Sal, his downfall is so satisfying and yet so pitiful to read.

TEENAGERS SCARE THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME – Mellow_Yellow - 221k words

Ian finds something scary and calls Mickey for help, even though they had only reconnected that very day after two years of not seeing each other. Together, they get sucked into a situation they weren't at all prepared for. Can they even admit that they're in over their head?

The very beginning of this fic is SO cinematic it grabbed my interest from the very first scene and didn't let go until the end, DO NOT search for spoilers.

The only warning I'll give is that it does deal with a bit of gore and what I'm personally gonna define as slight psychological horror. That's it. Enjoy!

BROKE STRAIGHT BOYS – dancermk - 66k words

Mickey becomes a porn actor for a site where he has to pretend he's straight and not enjoying the copious amount of gay sex he's having on camera, enter Ian, another actor under the same agency and their off the chart physical chemistry.

This story has, needless to say, some really, really good smut. I especially loved their first time together, but every sex scene in this story is seared in my mind.

ETHERIZED AGAINST THE SKY – Snarfle - 213k words

So, I debated whether I should add this fic or not, but I think if there is one fic that will stay in my mind long after this Shameless binge of the past couple of months it's this one, and it should absolutely become one of those fic that everyone in the fandom should read.

After Mickey gets shot by Kash his life takes a completely different direction and he ends up in a group home where, through many difficult times, he turns his life around.

So many iconic moments in this fic, some funny as fuck, some sad, some so absurd that I'm surprised they weren't lifted straight from Shameless, one so gruesome in the very first chapter that I was surprised to have such a visceral feeling from just words on a screen. Yeah, this story will stay with me for a long time.

OLD RULES FOR NEW SIDE PIECES – Shamelessquestions - 217k words

Ian is a Fed and he spots Mickey looking suspicious in an art museum, the mutual attraction is overwhelming, Mickey is not what he seems and Ian is already with someone else, but that's not gonna stop him from pursuing what he and Mickey have.

Putting it as bluntly as I can, this fic made me face the realization that I love cheating fics (if the cheating happens to someone else to bring together the endgame couple). I have already reread this fic twice and I could probably go for another one and not get tired of it, it's that good, and out of all this author's fics it's probably my favorite.

Favorite original characters in this AU: It's a three way tie between Dre, Ivan and Carrie, they're all very captivating in this story.

Other fic from this author I'd recommend cause I really love their style:

LOST IN TRANSLATION: Ian meets a very attractive man while he's in Ukraine who doesn't speak English, a mere language barrier won't stop him from flirting for hours. (adorable)

YOU MAKE ME FEEL HUMAN – Dragona - 66k words

Ian is an assassin, he meets Mickey and thus begins a very sick love story.

To say I'm obsessed with this fic is an understatement, I suggest to everyone to just go read the original author’s own description of the fic, it sets the tone of the story magnificently.

This is an Ian Gallagher that almost resembles Jerome (also played by Cameron in Gotham) but like… a slightly more subdued and saner S1/S2 version of him. I love the layers that get peeled right in front of my eyes, the madness that creeps in a bit more every chapter. I LOVE this story.

DRIED INK - 87k words

This fic combines my two favorite Gallavich-specific tropes, one being ‘Mickey comes back from prison after s6, Ian is with someone else’ and ‘Ian cheats on that someone else for Mickey’

I love the Gallaghers in this and how unsurprised they are at Ian going back to Mickey right away. It's a little jewel of a fic.

Mickey tries SO hard to stop himself and Ian in this but their love is too magnetic, they're irresistible to each other.

THE QUESTION OF NORMAL – blue_newman - 92k words

Ian is a prison counselor, Mickey is in prison, they fall in love and it's beautiful and Ian is incredibly devoted to Mickey in this fic and I fell in love with them both in this.

KINDA RAW – catgrassplantdad - 6k

Quite simply this is my favorite short pwp fic.

Illustrating those “five times” in one night that Mickey references in 11x01.

This fic is so hot, I love it <3

QUATERVOIS – DodgerBear - 51k words

Soldier Mickey gets stationed in the middle of nowhere and meets a farmer called Ian who makes him question everything.

Falling under the same umbrella of “Mickey does something crazy for Ian” fics and this is why it stuck in my mind even if it's been a while since I've read it.

I LOVE this story, their dialogues and everything that happens in it. The setting is lovely and you will fall in love with the description of Ian’s farm.

Other fic by the same author that I also loved:

BURDEN OF PROOF: Cop Mickey gets caught in a legal battle between the two oldest Gallagher brothers, something doesn't feel right though…

THE WORDS HE DOESN'T SAY: Mickey is released before Ian in s10 and has to meet a court-mandated therapist. The story is from the therapist POV and goes AU from the beginning of s10 in that Mickey gets involved back into Yev and Svetlana’s life, the dialogue is, quite obviously, the main attraction of the story and it's really well done. (Also, written in first person).

THE MENAGERIE – CrossMyDNA - 147k words

Ian decides to re-explore his bdsm preferences at The Menagerie where he meets sub extraordinaire Mickey on his very first visit.

Shameless is undoubtedly the fandom that opened my eyes to what bdsm could be back in… approx 2016? When that other popular bdsm fic was still around *ahem*.

So it definitely feels like a sign that coming back into the fandom this fic now exists and is SO GOOD.

Obviously it's very explicit, the smut in this fic is one of the best I've ever read.

The chemistry between Ian and Mickey sizzles off the screen and can absolutely be felt even in moments not of the nsfw variety, absolutely recommended!

MICKEY MILKOVICH’S GUIDE TO FLIRTING – whatwouldmickeydo - 40k words

An s2 “missing moments” between Gallavich, completely canon compliant, all under the pretense that Mickey is following a step by step guide to flirting.

I wish this fic was describing canon moments, not kidding a single bit, I wish I could somehow magically manifest these scenes into existence they're that good and fit that well into canon.

M8TE – gallawitch - 53k words

Omegaverse fic where Ian and Mickey both start using an app and end up matching with each other, even though a connection is made almost instinctively, coming to terms with it with a sound mind will take a bit longer…

Hey,had to have at least one of these on here lol

I love omegaverse and this was everything I wanted from it, couldn't have asked for anything better really <3.

SHACKLED – MyRelapse - 19k words

Ian has a change of heart and he decides that Mickey IS the one he wants, even if he's still in prison, so he keeps in contact and goes through every hoop imaginable to have him back as soon as possible.

Reading this made me so happy like I could burst, love it.

WAITING ON MY OWN TOO LONG – Ride4812 - 266k words

This rec more than any other on this list is what I'm gonna consider self indulgent because it covers the trope I always craved to read in such a satisfying way: Canon AU where Mickey comes back from prison after 8 years, Ian has found someone else but the moment the two meet again they fall back into each other right away.

The series is made up of 4 smaller fics:

One more night

Something more this time

No more lonely nights

Ain't this life so sweet

(I will point out here and nowhere else that the last installment of this series has some segment that probably needed to be re-read a couple more times, but by that point I was too invested, and the quality fluctuates a lot only in certain parts)

The writing style is very direct and to the point, which I love, the smut is very present and written beautifully and most importantly never boring.

Ian is a MESS in this fic and had me Stressed™, mostly cause for some reason I can't handle too much casual depiction of drug abuse and addiction (I know, ironic considering the fandom).

Conflicts and resolutions are never clean cut, they don't necessarily resolve quickly or definitely or the way you probably imagine they should and I find this level of realism very satisfying.

Taking a bit of space here at the end to also rec a couple other Ride4812 fics that I also loved:

COUP DE FOUDRE - A model/photographer AU where Ian and Mickey fall in love the instant they meet and do some crazy things because of that.

HOPE HE MIGHT - A lawyer AU where Ian and Mickey are on opposing sides for the same client, an interesting murder mystery steeped in a religious cult.

Generally I feel like this author is really good at depicting just how unapproachable Mickey can be to anyone that isn't called Ian Gallagher and I eat it up every time.

WHAT THE NIGHT DOES TO THE DAY – andchaos - 9k words

A Gallavich childhood friends AU with a quite original arrangement for the story and the various segments of their lives. Very satisfying read.

RANSOM – BeckyHarvey29 - 112k words

Terry sends his sons to kidnap a Gallagher child to force Frank into paying back the money he owes, unfortunately for him Mickey and his brothers kidnap Ian, and a whole other kind of story unfolds.

Mickey and Ian falling in love in this fic is such a good read. I don't wanna spoil anything of how that or the kidnapping plot goes, since the two are so intertwined. Just know that it will be worth it.

UNDER LOCK AND KEY – Suzy_Queue - 106k words

Ian is assigned the night shift at his new job where he provides spare keys to his fellow college students stuck outside their dorm rooms. To make matters worse his shift coworker is the oh so infamous Mickey Milkovich.

I am magnetized by the way this author writes their pining for each other, their attraction and obsession, how it blooms and unfolds. This fic in particular had me develop a very bad case of tunnel vision, couldn't really turn away until I finished reading it all.

I still haven't read everything this author has to offer, but so far I also loved:

INHUMAN: A mysterious force starts attacking people close to Mickey and it all seems to lead to a mysterious redhead Mickey is oh so coincidentally obsessed with. Very cool paranormal story.

THESE FOOLISH GAMES: Mickey takes over as the boss of the local branch of a trampoline park, where Ian is one of the employees, they annoy each other to no end but what they don't know is that they're secretly texting each other.

IS THERE SOMEWHERE – andchaos - 48k words

Mickey is born with no words on his skin, convinced he's going to live a life of misery cause no one will ever say the words he's destined to hear, he's not a very happy guy. Here comes mute boy Ian who crashes into his life and won't let go.

A classic Soulmate AU, I love that like in a lot of other Gallavich fics their physical connection and compatibility usually comes before their emotional one, it is one aspect that I feel distinguishes their relationship to many other fandom’s ships.

LAST NIGHT AT THE VERONA GRAND HOTEL – the_rat_wins - 27k words

Mickey starts working at an ancient hotel who's supposedly haunted. Mickey doesn't believe in ghost stories, he is much more interested in this one guest he meets at night during his shift.

What a cinematic experience this fic is! Absolutely recommended, the length of it makes it so you can read it in the same time it would take to watch the same story in movie format.

Other fics by the same authors that have impressed me:

FADE THIS ONE TO BLACK: Ian dies of overdose in a pile of snow outside the club, when Mickey finds him there he vows to do anything to get him back.

I don't know why but this fic in particular gives off the vibes of being a pilot for a ya urban fantasy TV series, except we gotta imagine everything that comes after the first episode lol

NO LIE: Ian and Mickey are Soulmates and as such they can't lie to each other. This series is short and sweet and full of feelings, perfect

PARAGRAPHS – pink_ink - 100k words

Ian becomes a reading tutor for ex-convicts, Mickey is among them and Ian starts paying him more and more attention.

This is a story where they meet under very different circumstances and where they've lived slightly different lives compared to canon and yet they're still able to find each other in the end.

Also, sign me up for every fic where Ian has to work just as hard to help Mickey and care for him as the opposite, where Ian's brand of stubbornness is the only way to get through to Mickey.

I'm also adding a couple of ongoing fics, just two to not overwhelm too much.

NONE THE WISER – Loftec - ~218k words

Ian starts visiting Mickey’s diner, it takes a while and yet no time at all to warm up to each other.

I'm captivated by the author's writing style. I love Ian's and Mickey’s relationship. I love how they sort of take their time and yet pine helplessly for each other.

I'm obsessed with the fact that the whole point of the fic doesn't appear until two thirds of the way in cause the diner scenes were just too good to pass up on lol (and I 100% agree with them).

INTRO TO QUANTUM DATING – spoonfulstar - ~563k words

Canon Mickey and Ian meet in University. A college slice of life but drenched in the casual (and not so casual) darkness of canon shameless.

The dark humor in this is fenomenal and left me gasping laughing so many times.

Unexpectedly Ian in this fic is pursuing a linguistics oriented degree, which was what I studied when I tried university, the topics are explained in such an accurate way I have to assume the author studied them themselves and that this story is somewhat a reimagining of their own college experience because if not this would be an absurd amount of accurate research to make.

Reading this fic feels like living through the American college experience from the comfort of my home lol.

As I said before, this author's way of writing does not weight you down even with its length, the story flows perfectly from one scene to the next and before you realize it you've reached the end and you have to accept that 500k words weren't even enough.

Let's end this list with some quick recommendations

WHILE WE'RE MAKING OTHER (PEOPLE'S) PLANS - kyasticlikestea

Mickey is volunteered to organize someone's else's wedding after he managed to salvage his own so well, he'll do it, but his own Southside way.

THIS IS THE ROAD TO RUIN - bricoleur10

Ian and Mickey never go to rob Ned, the story unfolds differently from there. A fix-it with a lot of Gallavich longing , very good smut and some really good dialogue.

HEY, HONEY MINE (I WAS THERE ALL THE TIME) - serveteas

Mickey talks about his crush with Iggy and accidentally pronoun-slips. Short, to the point, funny af and I just really love it. Takes place after their fight at Kash’n Grab in s2.

AGAINST GLASS - AllThatMatters

Ian gets traded from one club to another as a dancer (and more) and ends up in the Milkovich family's club. This is a Mafia!Mickey story with some pretty tight sub-plots, I love his brothers in this.

ONE OF A KIND - fckyeahgallavich

Mickey breaks his finger and it has to be set in the hospital, chaos - of the homophobic kind - ensues. Protective!Ian, I wanna hug Mickey in this.

IAN THE FRIENDLY GHOST - Ravenheart

Ian is haunting an apartment and Mickey starts living in it, Ian is maybe starting to have a crush on him. This isn't angsty!

BLOOD IN, BLEED OUT - brewrosemilk, Whatsastory

Historical AU. Perfectly innocent bystander Ian Gallagher is thrown into the affairs of the Ukrainian Mafia back in 1954, his relationship with Mickey will span decades and he won't remain innocent for long, the mafia can corrupt anyone.

TEENAGE RUNAWAY - sadwhales

Ian comes to live and finish high school with his half siblings on the South Side, he's immediately captivated by a boy sitting under the bleachers, maybe his North Side naivety will catch his attention too.

GARDEN SONG - melwrtiesthings

A glimpse into their lives in their West Side apartment, a lot of initial angst due to a manic episode and then a lot of recovery and healing and learning more about themselves.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Can I ask somthing? You can totally ignore this if you're not comfortable!! Can you write somthing like reader has been SA'ed before and az or cass or Rhys(your choice who) doesn't know this and tries to take things to 3rd base but reader gets really uncomfortable and tells them what she's been through so the bat boy comforts her saying he'll wait however long he has to for her, holding her and then goes all angry psycho on the person who SA'ed her.

(I was SA'ed a few years ago and the 'date' is coming closer that's why I just need somthing to keep my mind distracted. Plzzzz ignore this if you aren't comfortable with it!! I totally understand!)

Finally Safe

Summary: Reader is the youngest of the Vanserra's, but like Lucien, is the daughter of Helion. She has a pretty dark past that she doesn't even want to think about, and so, no one other than she herself knows about it.

When her mate tries to take things further in their relationship, everything she has kept inside herself comes spilling out.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: Hi my love! I am soo glad that you sent this ask, it makes me so happy (this one is the first fic request I've received! I also feel extremely honored that you chose me for writing such a sensitive topic).

Also, I'm soo sorry that you had to go through that! I've never had any experience with SA or anyone who went through it, so I'm not sure if I can write something that really captures the depth of the situation, but I did listen to a few SA stories and podcasts ('Rotten Mango' podcasts, if any of you wanted to know) and I'll try my best with this.

Also, I've had this story idea for like a year now since I finished reading acosf, so I'm going with Azriel for this one.

Aaand I tried to make it as long as possible, hope it what you wanted to read.

Hope you like it! Enjoy!

Tw: mentions of SA, not graphic torture scene under '•○●⛦●○•', none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

•○🌑○•

Everywher her eyes went, there was darkness.

All she could hear, laughter, grunts and disgusting words spewed from equally disgusting mouths.

All she could smell was sweat, her own tears, and things she didn't want to think about.

All she could feel was the nauseating touches of a male she didn't know and the cool ground under her back.

All she could taste was the bile climbing up her throat.

She just wanted it to be over. She just wanted them to leave so she could curl up into a ball and cry herself to sleep.

Why?

She kept asking herself.

Why me?

She would probably never get the answer to it. And even if she did, she'd never understand how someone could do something as horrible as this.

Then she started screaming. As she always did.

•○🌑○•

Y/n jerked up, her chest heaving. She sat up, scooting back towards the headboard and pressing herself against it, tugging the blankets to cover herself as her eyes frantically searched around for any sign of movement in her chambers.

Of course, there was no one, but the fear never went away. Probably never would.

Long moments went by as she tried to calm herself, telling herself that she was safe. That she wasn't in that dungeon anymore. That she was far from it, she was in Day Court.

Her actual father's domain, apparently.

Soon after Amarantha had trapped everyone Under the Mountain, her mother had broken the news to her. That she wasn't Beron's daughter, but Helion's. And then, secretly, over the decades, Helion and Y/n had started to spend more time together. Her father was guilty that he hadn't been there for her when she was a kid, and so the two of them tried to make up for the time they had lost.

Y/n shook her head, laying down again and deciding to atleast try to get some sleep. There was going to be an important meeting in a few hours, and all the High Lords were going to arrive for the meeting. For planning the course of the war against Hybern.

She needed all the sleep she could get as it would be very stressful and she was supposed to be present as her father's Second in Command.

Still, she could not sleep. Knowing she would not be able to sleep anytime soon, she finally stood and made her way to the washing chamber when the watery rays of sunlight filtered in through the window.

She scrubbed herself raw in scalding hot water in hopes of washing away all the phantom stickiness she still felt on her body. After that, she got dressed in a white and golden flowy gown, the colours of Day.

Being the second of command of Helion wasn't the only reason she wrote this colours.

It would also be making a statement. That she had chosen Day Court over Autumn Court.

Beron knew she wasn't his daughter. He also thought that she was picked up from a dumpster. That's what Lady of Autumn had told him.

When she was pregnant with Y/n, she had stayed away from Beron for months, and when she returned, she returned with a newborn, saying she found the baby on the side of a road near a dumping ground. Beron didn't care as long as he was not concerned in the child's upbringing.

After Feyre had ended Amarantha's reign, Y/n had left the Autumn Court, making the excuse that she wanted to settle somewhere else.

And that's how she had ended up in Day. She had tried her best to convince Helion not to do this, as it could put relations between the two courts in jeopardy, especially as Beron would see it as a sign of betrayal. But he didn't care.

Y/n just prayed to the cauldron that the meeting would go without anyone dying.

•○🌑○•

She stepped into the airy meeting area, her dress fluttering around her feet.

The guards outside had informed her that the High Lords from Dawn and Summer Court had arrived quite some time ago, and Night Court had just come just moments before she did.

All eyes went to her, and all the Lords' eyes lit with recognition. She just gave a then a polite smile, before grinning at Rhys, who grinned back and pulled her into a hug.

"She was a friend Under the Mountain." He told his Inner Circle, pulling back from her. She nodded at the members that were present before her eyes landed on an Illyrian standing near a doorway, his eyes alert and on the High Lords.

As if sensing her gaze, he glanced at her. And when he did, everything in the world stopped. At least for Y/n.

Snap.

Her body locked up, her eyes widening. She stared and stared at him. She vaguely heard her name being called, but she couldn't process it.

"Y/n?" Her father touched her arm and she jerked back, gasping. She looked up at him, her eyes frantic. He had a confused smile on his face. She took a deep breath, pulling an indifferent mask on.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay? You look alarmed." She swallowed, glancing at the winged male to see if he had felt it too. By the confusion lacing his featured, he hadn't. She tried not to let her disapointment show.

"Yes. I'm fine."

Her father nodded, unconvinced as he gave her a look that said we'll talk about this.

Then she felt a tap on her mental shields. She opened a pathway and let Rhys in.

What is it? He questioned.

She thought for a moment before answering. Mate.

His eyes lit up and he smiled. That's amazing.

She nodded and walked to her seat, plopping down on it.

As everyone waited for others to arrive, Y/n couldn't help but keep glancing at the male.

Beautiful. He was beautiful.

As the meeting progressed, she kept chiming in with her suggesting but not really paying attention, completely avoiding looking at Beron. She also learned that the male's –her mate's– name was Azriel. She knew she had heard the name before, but couldn't place where.

But she would, soon enough.

•○🌑○•

"My dear, what happened back there?" Helion asked as soon as he and his daughter were alone.

She turned to him helplessly. "He–he was–is, my mate."

His brows furrowed. "Azriel?" When she nodded, a smile as bright as the Court he ruled over spread across his face. "You found your mate! You must tell him! Oh Mother, I'll hold a ball in your honor. I–"

"Dad. Who is he?" She would've called him father if not for his very pouty request that she call him dad. Father sounded too formal, according to him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. How could I forget! He's the Spymaster of the Night Court."

Her jaw dropped. "The feared Spymaster of Night Court?" He nodded happily. "Then should we not be scared? Doesn't he have... quite the reputation?"

"That he does, but from what I've gleaned from my centuries, he's a sweetheart with people he cares about. Atleast, that's what Rhysand has been telling me. If he's lying, I'll be very sad."

Y/n couldn't believe it. One of the most feared male in all of Prythian was her mate. Her gods darned mate.

She didn't know how she would tell him, considering she had never had an interaction with him. Still, she'll have to figure it out.

Because, feared or not, he deserved to know.

•○🌑○•

After the war.

She had realised that any one of them could die at any moment after the war, and then she'll feel guilt for not telling her mate about the bond. And so, she wanted to get to know him first. She had no idea how she'd do that, but her father did.

The war was over, but that didn't mean that everything was fine. And so, under the excuse of strengthening ties with the Night Court, her father had sent Y/n to help in Velaris. Of course, when she had called his bluff, he had acted innocent and declared he didn't know what she was talking about.

So now, it had been a week off her staying in Velaris, and she hadn't had any sort of conversation with Azriel except for a few polite smiles here and there.

She was in a room right next to Azriel, which Rhys claimed had nothing to do with their bond.

She huffed and turned onto her side, trying to fall asleep.

That was when she felt a panicked tug on the bond. She practically flew out of her bed and into Azriel's room to find him writhing on the bed. It was pitch dark, his shadows frantic.

She quickly made her way towards the bed, realising he was having a nightmare. She gently placed her hand on his bare shoulder, tying to wake him up because she didn't know what else to do.

She shook him slowly so as not to startle him, but when he didn't wake up, she put a little more force into it.

Which was, she realised a little too late, was the wrong thing to do.

One second, she was kneeling on his bed trying to wake him up. The next, she was pinned on the mattress, Azriel snarling in her face, one of his hands wrapped around her throat, the other clutching her hands above her head. But that wasn't what caused her breathing to grow shallow or her instincts to scream at her to flee.

No. It was the fact that she was helpless as she was pressed into the mattress.

Dark dungeons.

Beron's Second in Command sneering at her.

Her screams.

She couldn't breathe she couldn't breathe she—

Suddenly, the weight was lifted from her body, her hands free and the grip around her throat vanishing. She gasped, scrambling to sit up and scoot away from Azriel, who was kneeling in front of her with a horrified expression.

"I– I'm so sorry. I didn't mean–"

Y/n shook her head, trying to find her voice. "It's okay." She rasped.

"Did I hurt you?" She shook her head. He seemed to think for a moment. "Did I scream?" When she shook her head again, his eyes narrowed. "Then how did you know I was having a nightmare?"

She paled. "I just thought you– I didn't..." She knew lying to him would be futile, he was a damned Spymaster for a reason. So she swallowed and told him the truth. "I felt it."

She did not meet his eyes, though he stared at her. "How?"

She stayed silent. A few moments passed before she sighed and tugged on the bond. Gently at first. When he gave no reaction, she tugged harder.

He gasped, leaning forward and clutching his chest, staring at her with wide eyes. It felt like eternity had passed before he finally spoke.

"How–how long have you known?"

She looked at him as she cleared her throat. "Since the High Lords' meeting. Before the war."

"That's why you kept staring at me. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wanted to get to know you first. I was scared."

He seemed to have regained his composure as he nodded. He stayed quiet for a moment. "Do you– do you want the bond? It's okay if you don't want it. Want me. I know my reputation isn't... the best."

"I want this Azriel. I just want to get to know you more before we accept the bond."

A smile stretched across his face, stealing Y/n's breath away.

"Then... how do you feel about getting dinner tomorrow?"

She smiled. "I would like that. Very much."

•○🌑○•

It had been a few months since that night, and Azriel and Y/n had been courting each other traditionally, like they would have if they weren't mates.

They took it slowly. Just last month they had shared their first kiss.

They had told each other everything about their pasts. She knew all about Azriel and he knew all about her. Except that one thing that not even her father knew. It wasn't as if she didn't want to tell him. She just didn't know how to.

As she knocked on the door to his new home, she wondered if she should tell him today. Better late then never, right?

He opened the door, an instant grin spreading on his face as he opened the door wide.

"Welcome home love." He mumbled, kissing her temple as she passed by him. She smiled and set the box in her hands on the corner where the other boxes were. "Dinner's ready."

He had recently bought this house for the two of them. His stuff was already here, and the box Y/n had been carrying was the last of her belongings.

When she had insisted that she could bring her stuff herself and didn't need him, he had declared that he'd be cooking dinner then.

They sat in comfortable silence as they ate. After the plates had been cleared away, he forced her to sit and relax while he did the dishes.

So as she sat on the kitchen counter, she told him of the new book she'd been reading. Soon enough, he had finished his work and was standing between her knees, leaning on his hands on either side of her hips, listening diligently as she finished her story.

"And that, my love, is how they got their happy ending." She flicked his nose.

He sighed. "I wonder if I'll get my happy ending tonight."

She giggled. "And what do you think your happy ending will be?"

"Just a few sweet kisses from my sweet sweet mate."

She laughed and kissed him. He smiled into the kiss.

It was amazing and dreamy, like she had always imagined and wanted her life with her mate to be like.

But the dreaminess of the moment soon started summoning her nightmares as Azriel's hand started to inch higher on her thigh, his other hand tugging her towards the edge of the counter.

Panic flared in her as she placed her hand on his chest, trying to push him away gently.

But then his hand brushed the waistband of her pants, and she pulled away with a gasp, her chest heaving. "No."

His brows furrowed as he searched her eyes. "What happened, darling?"

Tears formed in her eyes as those memories started creeping up on her. "No– not yet Azriel. I–I can't–"

Seeing those tears, his face softened with understanding. "Hey, its okay. We can wait. There's no hurry. Can you tell me what the matter is? Is it something I did?"

She shook her head, taking a deep breath. "A century ago, I was still living in Autumn Court. Beron's Second in Command hated me, for no other reason that I existed, apparently. He was always trying to get me executed or imprisoned. One time, he succeeded. He convinced Beron to throw me in the dungeon because I was being rebellious, according to him. A few days in the dungeon would discipline me. And–and that he would personally look over my imprisonment." As her voice broke on the last part, Azriel's hands clutched her own and squeezed.

She swallowed. "He... he did overlook my imprisonment. Quite personally too."

He searched her eyes, his face hard. "The guards? They did nothing?"

She laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "They enjoyed watching him... discipline me." She wiped her face with her sleeves. "I'm so sorry, you have to wait because of me–"

He shushed her. "One thing I always want you to remember is that it wasn't ever your fault. It was his. Never apologise for someone else's mistakes." She sniffled as he pulled her into his arms, her head resting on his shoulders as she wound her hands around the back of his shoulders. He clasped the back of her neck as his other hand rubbed her back. He then carried her to their new bedroom, while she clung to him like a child, all the while murmuring about how it wasn't her fault.

He sat her down on the bed, helped her change into her night clothes before laying her down and settling down next to her. She lay her head n his chest, breathing in his calming scent.

"Can you tell me his name, love?"

"Orvyn."

She could feel him nod. She wondered why he asked, but couldn't think straight as sleep started creeping in.

She would ask him tomorrow, she decided.

•○🌑○•

Azriel's pov.

He was alert as the footsteps became louder and louder, until that bastard came into view. Azriel wanted to gut him like a fish, but that would not calm his rage. So he calmly stepped out of his shadows, only enough that he could be heard without having to shout.

"Orvyn?" He questioned. The blonde male turned, squinting to make out who had called his name. "Are you the Second in Command?"

Azriel watched as his chest puffed at the mention of his title. "Yes. That's me. Who might you be?"

Then Azriel stepped completely away from the darkness concealing him and smirked. He prowled closer, noticing how fear entered Orvyn's eyes, and how he refused to back down.

But while he was busy staring at the Spymaster, he failed to notice the shadows winding around his legs and arms. When Azriel was close enough to him, he whispered. "Your death."

Orvyn's eyes widened as he opened his mouth to scream, but before he could even take a breath, Azriel had winnowed the both of them away to the dungeons. The place where his mate had been kept.

•○●⛦●○•

As the darkness cleared from his vision, he found that his shadows had already bound Orvyn to the wall, keeping him standing. Some of them held his hand next to his head while some had bound his mouth so he couldn't scream. And some had already gone to keep an eye on anyone who might be coming near, sealing the ears of the guards nearby.

Azriel smiled at Orvyn as he whispered. "Where shall we start?" He pulled out Truth–Teller and placed it near his fingers. "Here? I think that's a good idea."

And then, as slowly as he could, he cut off the bastard's fingers. The stench of piss hit the air. "What is this? I thought you were supposed to be very brave and powerful. What happened now? If you're crying and pissing yourself now, I wonder what you'll do when I carve your dick out. I'll do that, then maybe even take your eyes as souvenirs. What do you say? Oh, and also, I want you to know that I'm not doing this because I'm being paid for it or anything. I just found out you assaulted my mate. Remember? Her name was Y/n."

His eyes were wide in recognition as tears started streaming down his face and Azriel clicked his tongue. He pulled out another ordinary dagger from his array of weapons and stabbed it in his thigh.

Then he placed Truth–Teller on his face and set to work.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

She groaned as she blinked the sleep from her eyes and stretched her hand out in search of her mate's warm body. But all she came across were cold sheets.

She was confused as she sat up and looked around for any indication of where he might be. He would have left a note if he was going for work. Maybe he was in the kitchen.

So she got up and waddled down the stairs, hunting for her mate. But she couldn't find him anywhere in their home.

Where was he?

Just then, she heard the front door opening and she rushed to meet Azriel. She had already expected him to be out, and he had returned now. Maybe he'd been running some errands.

What she hadn't expected was for him to be covered in blood.

"Cauldron boil me! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" She asked, trying to usher him into the bathing room.

"What makes you think I'm hurt?" He raised an eyebrow.

She faltered. "Well, first of all, you look like you just took a swim in a pool of blood. Forgive me for expecting the worst." She began turning on faucets and filling the tub for him, adding oils into it before turning to him. Hurt or not, he would want to take a bath.

"I could have been doing my Spymaster things." He said, stripping and stepping into the water, sighing.

"Whenever you leave for work, you leave a note. Where were you, Azzie?"

"Just having some fun." When she continued to glare at him, he finally told her. "Hunting down bastards." She raised a brow. "Second in Command. Orvyn."

Her eyes widened. "What did you do to him?" He ignored her. "What did you do Azriel?"

So he told her everything in detail, so much so that she wanted to gag even as pride surged in her for her amazing mate. When he finished, he stood and toweled off, coming to stand in front of her.

She sighed. "Don't you think this could strain the already fragile relations between Night and Autumn? Beron could decide to attack–"

He grasped her jaw and tilted her head back as he leaned closer. "Y/n, I do not care about any of that."

"Are you sure? I remember you saying that you would do anything for this Court."

"Night Court is important for me, but not as much as you and your happiness. The whole of Prythian could go to hell if it meant you would be happy. Just say the word and I'd set the world on fire for you, my love."

Wetness gathered in her eyes and she furiously swiped at them. He pulled her hands away, smiling softly. "I don't want to cry." She choked out. He laughed and pulled her in for a hug. She wrapped her arms around him so tight she wondered if he would choke.

But he didn't do anything other than hug her back just as fiercely.

And finally, after all these years, Y/n felt like she was safe. Nothing could hurt her as long as she had her mate.

And she couldn't ask for anything more.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @eos-princess

[eskymoos]

Levi Ackerman- The Richest Man in the World

You wanted to make a normal date with Levi more fun and unconventional, but you forgot that he can read you like an open book. Word count- 1409 Female reader x Levi Ackerman SFW

Dating Levi Ackerman can be very exciting. From under the sheets to simple, humble dinner dates. He always has a way of making it memorable for both of you. There is one occasion in particular, however, that will never slip your mind.

It was a hot summer day in Trost when the two of you headed for the heart of the city. There was no end goal other than to put your responsibilities aside and save up some time for each other. You were having an amazing time when a great idea came to your mind. 

There was a tall building on your left– a multifloored store for dresses of all sorts. Green, red, blue. Short, long, exotic. All of it in one place. You weren't surprised considering that many wealthy people lived here and most of them could easily afford to fill their wardrobes with clothes. Your eyes turned to stars and your jaw dropped.

''Hey, why don't we go inside?''

You suggested that and Levi, who was holding your arm to his chest like a gentleman, glanced over at the entrance. ''Hmmm? You like something?''

''Not yet. Come on.'' You urged and he didn't set you back. The Captain followed right after you, curious as to what you had in mind.

The place really was huge and the store owners gladly welcomed you inside, inviting Levi to sit over at a sofa and observe for now. You began looking at every dress, mesmerized at how amazing all of their designs were. 

But there is another thing that you couldn't ignore. You wondered if the reason you never wore dresses is because your body type just didn't allow it or because your budget was too small. Nonetheless it all made you hesitate a bit. You went quiet for a moment.

''Are you okay?'' Levi inquired, already sipping on a cup of tea he was brought while you were zoned out. 

''Yeah.'' You clicked your tongue and resumed the search.

It was best you kept your worries to yourself. You knew Levi was always one to watch over you and be sensible. You didn't want to feel like you've wasted his time so you chose to pretend that none of the dresses were up your alley.

The first one you tried on was truthfully ugly. You didn't have to fake the reaction. The color made your nose scrunch in disgust.

''I feel like a disco ball. There are too many beads,'' you murmured and your gaze ran to your quiet boyfriend. Levi was silent but his eyes were burning right through you. He took another long sip and said nothing. No sign of any emotion. 

Then you tried another one on. It was very beautiful but too long and tripped you over a couple of times. 

''It's my style but too long. I would need them to shorten it.'' You looked down and realized that not even your legs were visible through the material.

Levi was still watching and still saying nothing. You're beginning to wonder if this is boring for him.

Then your interest was piqued by three others. Unlike the first ones, you actually had luck this time. The dresses were the perfect size, shape and color. In fact, they resembled the ones you used to read about in your books. It was a fantasy brought to your reality. 

But you couldn't have Levi know that or else you'd have to tell him how this entire time you didn't have the money for any of this. You know he wouldn't mock you but the guilt would eat at your heart.

''It's…something. These are getting progressively worse, don't you think?'' You asked for his input, finding his sitting reflection in the mirror. Once more his mouth didn't open to speak but his focus went up and down on you. Was he eye fucking you or judging your horrible taste? 

After a few minutes of doubtful thoughts and inner regret, you shrugged your shoulders.

''Well it's fine. I'm glad that we came here at least. Maybe next time I will buy myself something.'' You explained, sighing deeply. What nobody knew was that if you could, you'd collect every single piece of clothing in this building. That dream owned your soul. 

You put on your casual clothes and walked out the fitting room to Levi who stepped closer to you and brushed the hair out of your face. For a moment you got the idea that he was telling you something telepathically but you didn't know what.

''You are beautiful.'' He leaned in to tell you, his voice raspy yet smooth. 

The two of you left, saying goodbye to the workers inside. Your gut shrunk a bit. You didn't know what to feel about what just happened.

And so, the arrows of the clock kept looping and two days passed by. You heard a knock on your door.

You opened it to see Petra and Oluo– two very loyal members of Levi's squad. He had told you many times about them but you rarely saw them.

''Is everything okay?'' You rush to ask, already overthinking what could be happening.

''Oh yeah.'' Petra grinned warmly and lifted a strange, enormous bag in her hands. ''The Captain told us to bring this to you. Enjoy.''

The two nodded respectfully, deserting you there with your own thoughts and a lot of confusion. Why exactly would Levi send you something? The two of you lived together so wouldn't it make sense that he directly handed it to you?

You brushed off all questions and checked the contents of the delivery. Your eyes turned big and round when you saw the three exact dresses you fell in love with the other day. But how? You gave it your best to hide what you felt and even acted repulsed but somehow Levi saw through your disguise. Now it makes sense why he was looking so attentively at you. He was studying your face bit by bit as if it were some kind of science. He knew just what you had on your mind.

All of them were crazy expensive which made you freak out a bit. The Captain went out of his way to purchase them without even looking at the price tag? The idea that he went back for that made your heart melt. It also angered you a bit that this entire time he kept quiet and acted natural while you put up an act.

What a foxy man.

A small note fell off the bag onto the ground and you picked it up to see what was written on it.

Come to my office when you can. Bring the dresses.

Levi

Excited to hear from him, you did just that. You flew out of the house wildly and mounted your horse, heading for the location.

When you arrived, you opened the door to find Hange and Erwin inside, having a conversation with Levi.

Levi looked at you instantly and a spark began dancing in the coldness of his blue eyes. 

''Hange, Erwin, see yourself out,'' he commanded in a reserved tone. Erwin gave him a nod and greeted you idly before exiting. Hange did too, but not before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

''Don't know what you've done to him but he's not himself today.''

You gave them a baffled look. 

''Is that good?''

Hange just grinned, not elaborating any further. They stepped out and shut the door which left just you and Levi in the room. The air turned thick and hard to breathe for a moment.

''Levi, you spent all these money on–''

''Try them on.'' He cut you off, standing up from his seat and approaching you. ''Put them on again. This time be genuine with what you think.''

You sucked in your lower lip and try to formulate a sentence. ''It's too much. It's just too much. I can't possibly pay you back.''

He reached out and pulled you in his arms, his intonation full of sheer affection and pure devotion. ''That's not for you to worry. I want you to try them on and tell me if they need any adjustments.''

You put both hands on his shoulders, ''Are you sure?''

His face moved closer, his mouth caressing your ear. ''Why would I say it if I don't mean it?'' He chuckled. And before you could do what he requested you to, he took your hand and stole your attention momentarily to speak what was on his mind this entire time: ''You make me the richest man in the world, you know that?''

🌹

[harleys1nhawaii]

"NOT TO ME, NOT IF IT'S YOU"

pairing: dabi/ todoroki touya x gn!reader

warnings: s3lf h4rm, blood, suicidal thoughts, mentions of blades, mentions of reader's family problems, self doubt, etc.

wc: 3k+

a/n: not proof read. also idk why i chose a plot like this to write on but i know it's not only me who suffers from these kind of addictions and know that wherever or whoever you are, you're not alone. <3

you're lying with your back pressed to the cold bathroom wall. you shiver, almost drop the blade in your hand.

why am i like this?

the house is quiet. the world also is. the voice of the tapping water sound of your faucet is all that catches your ears. but your mind's too blurry to care.

you're soaked in wet blood from your chest to your knees. its stupid is what it is, you think. what was wrong you? even though if you suffer you shouldn't give in your thoughts that easily. your self control felt way too far at the moment. the sore feeling of your arm made you drift into the heavy silence as your eyes closed shut.

the next thing you hear is banging. you jump awake from your sleep as you try to gain consciousness of the situation.

"doll? i know you're here, open the door."

you stood up as quick as you can and pulled down the sleeves of your shirt. your figure catches your gaze from the reflection on the mirror. you looked horrible, and the blood soaked clothes didnt seem to help you any better.

you quickly put on a jacket you tossed aside sometime you dont even remember when and thank your luck for it.

when you open the door, you see your boyfriend with a frown on his face.

"what took you so long?" he mutters as if he wasn't almost torning your door apart just a few seconds ago. "you got me worried."

you take a few steps back and turn your back to him. you didn't want him to see your drained face. "why are you banging the door like that? jeez, calm down, i'm here."

his gaze travels around your body and stops at a specific place when the little blood stain on your sleeve catches his eye. he frowns and and tiltes his head.

"what's wrong with you?" he throws. even though his voice comes out nonchalant, the worried look on his face gives him away.

"what do you mean?" you bite back. "i'm fine."

the tension in the room is poisonous. you're scared shitless that he might notice your situation and in the other hand he knows something is terribly wrong but he doesn't know how to throw hands.

so you both do what you two do the best, rage.

"you don't look fine." he hisses. you swear you see him clenching his jaw and giving you the look that sent shivers down your spine. you move your trembling hands in front of you so he wouldn't see how fucked up your situation was right now.

fucking christ, you thought. is it really the best time for you to be here?

when his question remains unanswered, he calls your name. however, you're convinced to not answer. you're scared for your life that if you say anything he'll notice it.

"touya, i'm sorry but i just want to sleep. if you're just here to rage at me then i'm afraid i won't be returning it bac-"

your words get cut when you feel the grip of his rough hands on your wrist. you hiss in pain at the sudden movement as he stands just a few inches away from your face.

"answer me, y/n. answer me when i ask you what's wrong." you feel your gut turning in your stomach when you feel his deep and serious voice hitting your face. you swear he hears your pumping heartbeat at that second.

"i did." you try to sound calm and perfectly fine. though, you knew you couldn't put an act. not with him. you knew incredibly well that whatever you were selling, he wasn't buying.

"i told you that i'm fine. why are you exaggerating?"

he lowers his head and his lips are now just in front of yours. his rough gaze never leaves your eyes and you desperately wish for a miracle to pull you out from your situation. "because i know for a fucking fact that you're lying."

when you don't answer, he shifts his grip from your wrist to the sleeve of your jacket to slide it up. the next thing you feel is a gut wrenching fear and pain when you pull your arm from his hands as hard as you can.

"the fuck you're doing?" you hiss. you take a few steps back but realize your struggles weren't working when he took the same amount of steps at you till you were captured between him and your window.

"get away." you spit out. "you're being fucking weird." he blocks you with his huge figure when you try to get out of the situation by moving out from the side gape.

"i said get away!"

"talk to me!"

you have tears in your eyes that are just waiting for your next move to spill on your cheeks. you cuss yourself, even despise yourself mentally. you couldn't cry here like that, not in front of him.

"talk to me so i can fucking understand what's going on! i can't just miraculously find out the issue!"

"nobody asked you to do it anyway!" you finally push him away with the last strength you found in yourself. "stop creating a scene and let me fucking rest god dammit!"

when you try to walk away to your bed, your movements are once again cut with another grip on your wrists. this time, you don't only hiss, but yelp at the sore pain of the cut he was squeezing between his hands.

"i told you to get away from m-"

this time, you're cut with an embrace instead of an another yell from him. your body shakes under his as your knees give in to his warmness. he keeps you like that till you silently sob on his chest with his hands caressing your scalp gently. he patiently listens to you spilling out your venomous drops of pain as he whispered quiet nothings into your ear.

"sshh, doll, it's okay. i'm here, alright? everything's fine. you're safe here, angel. you're okay."

when your tears subside, he gently pulls your head from his chest and look at your eyes with a bright spark of care and love in his' nobody has probably ever seen before.

"are you feeling better, love?" he strokes your cheek with his thumb carefully, like you were a brittle tea cup in front of him that could shatter into pieces by any second. all you can do is to nod tiredly at him and try to erase the pain in your chest that's been strangling you ever since.

he gently holds you from your waist and your wrists, this time more carefully. he leads you to your bed and sits you there. he pecks a kiss on your forehead. "wait me here." you hear him speak, but can't really keep up with his pace. by the time you turn your head to see where he went, he was already gone.

a few moments later with you sitting silently at the same spot he had put you, he came back with an aid kid in his hands and sit on the bed next to you.

what happened after was silence. you turned your face away from him in shame when he gently took off your jacket and revealed your torned apart arm. no words were spoken as he carefully wiped the dirty blood and patched up your fresh scars with bandages. he silently dressed you up in fresh clean clothes and tucked you into bed as he turned the lights off.

"are you mad at me?" you ask, after what feels like forever. he tightens his grip around your waist at that. "why would i be?"

"i don't know." you mutter, it's almost unable to hear. "i am insufferable."

he raises his face from the crook of your neck to your chest. no matter how dark the room is, you swear you see his azure irises looking at you right by your side.

"i'm mad at the world. for having you get so hopeless and done with your life. i'm mad at your family for wasting you and doing all of this with no spark of care. i'm mad at myself because no matter how long i knew you were on thin ice, i didn't do anything about it. i am mad at everything but you. i can never be mad at you. you have done nothing for me to be mad at you."

"im sorry." you whisper.

"and why's that?"

"i put you through a lot. i always create a problem and always get you worried about me."

your gaze once again turns back at him when he wraps his finger around a strand piece of your hair and tugs it behind your ear. his voice is soft and careful when he speaks. "you're all i have in this life, doll. you deserve every good thing in this life and every little thing that it brings to you. you give me everything i could ever ask for. you love me, not for who i can be, but for who i am. that's the least i can do for you."

you don't talk for a few moments after that. his thumb brushing on your cheek helps you just perfectly to slip off of your worries. his warmness was all you have needed.

"you don't have to do that though."

"but i want to." he's clear on what he's trying to imply and your words could only make him go harder on you to believe his words. he once again drops his head in the crook of your neck as he holds you closer.

"i'll take care of you." he kisses your neck.

"it's rotten work."

"not to me. not if it's you."