#bc he wanted to FEEL something and it was the only way to do that
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This is... love? (Simon Riley x Reader)
- SMUT SMUT SMUT - MDNI MDNI MDNI -
First time writing smut in a loooong time, so bare with me. Had an idea and ran with it. I hope you like it tho!
Simon Riley can fuck. But what about the first time you make love?
Word Count: 2.8K
Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You
Warnings: crying during sex (not the bad kind tho, promise), explicit sex, p in v, praise (heavy heavy like on god), gentle love making <3 bc our boy can fuck, but what about other stuff too?!
Of course, you’ve fucked. Simon has been your boyfriend for 3 years now, you’re definitely comfortable to explore that part of your relationship now.
Simon has had you bent over every piece of furniture in your flat, has had you in every bed in your house, in the shower, on the floor, a couple of times on the balcony even. He’s had you pinned to walls in sketchy bar bathrooms, he’s had you in the back of his nice looking truck, the bed of that same truck- fuckin’ everywhere.
That’s all it’s been, it’s been fucking. Rough, fast- always fucking godly, of course, but it’s primal. Animalistic, and you love it- you truly do love it.
But this time you want to do things different. You want to slow it down, you want to fucking relish in the man you’re lucky to call your own. You don’t want to fuck, you want to make love to him.
Simon has always been… not exactly averse to your softer affections, as he’s always a very willing participant, but you sometimes notice he seems… overwhelmed. Like he can’t quite handle the raw, genuine emotion behind a soft, tender, lingering touch. His cheeks heat up, he gets this certain look in his eyes, and while he’s never been mean about it- he backs away from it. He shies away from it.
You’ve tried talking to him about it- you’ve tried many, many times to bring it up to him. And yet the bastard always has a way to switch up the conversation, to change things around, to slip past the topic so easily- he can spin straw into gold with that mouth of his.
So, you’ve decided to take matters into your own hands.
You’re laying in bed, cuddled right up to him, your leg thrown over his hips and an arm thrown over his chest while you lay on your side, your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his arm. Simon’s hand idly plays with the ends of your hair, his arm wrapped around you, simply holding you to him as if to make sure you don’t slip away.
Simon is seemingly lost in thought, eyes closed and body more or less relaxed- as relaxed as Simon can be when the man is always seemingly on alert to every little sound.
“Hey, Si,” You murmur out, your fingers idly tracing random shapes against the fabric of his shirt.
He hums to let you know he’s heard you, but otherwise doesn’t really react.
Fuck, you love this man. You love every inch of him, everything about him. You even love that he always leaves the toilet seat up (you swear he does it out of spite) because you know you’d miss it if he wasn’t around to keep doing it.
“Can I try something?” You ask, tone soft and relaxed, casual. Not at all portraying the thoughts in your head, your secret little ‘mastermind’ plan.
“Tha’s quite vague, ain’t it, love?” Simon grumbles out, voice low as if to match the atmosphere of simple peace and quiet.
“Hmm…” You trail off, a playful smile growing on your face- not that he’s looking to see it, “I think it’s pretty simple. Either yes or no.” You quip with a nod, moving to lean up, resting your weight on your elbows so you can look down at him with a soft, gentle smile.
And of course at feeling you move, his arm moves from around your shoulders to around your waist- always touching you, never wanting you far when he’s finally home. (You don’t realize home is you- but of course he’s never quite told you that).
Simon’s eyes open at your movement, too. Pretty brown eyes, half lidded in his more-or-less relaxed state as he looks up to meet your gaze, his gaze soft in the way it only ever is for you- his mask resting along the nightstand by the bed.
There if he needs it- but it’s rarely needed with you around. A warm light, easily able to lighten up even the darkest depths of his mind to keep his demons at bay.
“....yes?” Simon offers after a few moments of contemplation, a curious look in his own eyes as they scan over your face- looking for a hint of what possible fuckery you could be up to at this point.
Your soft smile stretches out into a soft grin as you lean down, pressing your lips to Simon's and letting your eyes flutter shut. One of your hands come up, tracing softly up his chest, up his throat, along his jaw before settling to cup his cheek.
You can feel his breath hitch the slightest bit at the soft touch, the lingering touch. This is the kind of kiss that usually overwhelms him, but maybe he’s in a good mood tonight. Your thumb softly caresses his cheek while your tongues intertwine, and you can feel the moment Simon tries to speed it up.
You pull away, eyes still closed, your lips brushing against his as you speak, “No, no,”
And you promptly place your lips back against his own, not giving him time to start spitting his bullshit about how he’s going to make you see stars if you don’t stop teasing him- because that’s not the goal here.
You shift your body, moving to straddle Simon's hips (a feat in its own right), keeping one hand cupping his cheek while the other moves to the hem of his shirt, slowly running over the skin above the waistband of his pajama pants, before delving under the fabric and feeling the softness of his tummy, touch so soft and gentle, so loving against his body.
Simon doesn’t know what to think, his own hands seeming to hesitate before they come to rest along your thighs, squeezing the fat there a bit roughly- but that’s okay, you can teach him.
“Love your hands, Si,” You murmur as you finally pull away from the kiss, only to trail kisses down his jawline, slow and soft, occasionally nipping at the skin.
Simon let's out a grunt, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs before moving to cup your ass, pushing your body to force your clothed cunt to grind against his already hard cock, and a breathy moan leaves your lips from the stimulation- but damn it, you’re doing this your way this time.
“I’ll stop,” You warn, voice still soft, but there's… an edge to it for once, one stating that you really will.
A soft groan leaves Simon's lips, along with a scoff at the absolute audacity of you, “Love,” Simon says, in warning more than anything.
“I don’t wanna hear it,” You’re quick to say, before leaning back to meet his pretty, brown-eyed gaze, your hands moving to lift his shirt which he eagerly enough helps with, throwing the fabric away and down to the floor like it was the very thing that killed his family.
…a bit much, but you can understand his eagerness.
“You’re so beautiful, Simon,” You murmur out, eyes filled with nothing but adoration as you trail your hands across the familiar expanse of his chest, fingers running through his chest hair, thumbs brushing over his nipples before trailing down his sides. Your palms run over the subtle softness of his belly, where you know there is muscle hidden underneath.
A hiss leaves Simon's lips, and you can feel his cock twitch from where you’re perched in his lap. “Bloody ‘ell, love, the fuck ya doin?” Simon mutters, hands moving to grab your hips.
“Jus’ be good for me, yeah?” You murmur out, a soft, adoring smile on your face as you finally look up to meet his gaze.
The sight alone is enough to make you pause slightly. He’s not like this when you’re fucking- and you don’t even have his dick in you yet! His cheeks are flushed, not from exertion, he’s just flustered, his bottom lip between his teeth, brows pinched together with pretty glossy eyes.
Almost like he could cry- but not quite.
“You’re always so good for me, Si,” You murmur, grinding your hips against his own and letting out another breathy moan at the feeling, his hands tightening their grip of your hips in response. Just one look and you can tell he’s overwhelmed already- or at the very least getting there. But he hasn’t once told you to stop- he’s simply tried speeding you up, which you have no interest in. Not this time.
You grab his hands, kissing each of his knuckles before slowly dragging them underneath your own shirt, placing his palms against your breasts, his thumbs already swiping at your nipples, at the already peaked buds there.
“Always takin’ such good care of me, my love,” You praise, and you reward him with another slow grind, beginning to set such a slow, but lovely pace, just enough friction to make you want more- but that’s the goal. A slow build, no rush, no desperation, just… slow. Loving. Gentle. Tender.
Simon visibly gulps, his hands squeezing the flesh of your tits with a groan before he’s tugging your shirt off and adding it to the growing pile on the floor. He tries to buck his hips, tries to get your movements to speed up- but you simply lift up, ending the contact altogether, and send him a pointed look.
“Do ya not want me to fuck ya, love? What’s all this then?” Simon says with a huff, eyes narrowing slightly as they meet your own.
Anyone else would say he’s frustrated- and yeah, partly he is. But you know your Simon, you can see that glossiness to his eyes, can see the slightest twitch of his brow- he’s overwhelmed- he’s not sure how to handle this, the softness, the gentleness.
Simon likes to say he can’t be soft, can’t be gentle, can’t be loving. But it’s been 3 years with this man- you know he can. He just needs to be taught- it’s simply something he’s never had before, it’s not like he was born with the knowledge.
“No,” You answer with a pleased, breathy sigh, resting your hips back against his own and beginning that slow grind once more, feeling his cock twitch at the action. “Don’t wanna fuck, Si. Jus’ be good for me, baby. Jus’ sit here, look pretty for me. Always so good for me. Jus’ let me love you, sweet boy,” You murmur out, eyes meeting his own and holding their gaze.
You trail your hands down his arms along his shoulders and collar bones, quite literally loving every inch of his skin.
Simon’s cheeks get hotter, the look he gives you is entirely overwhelmed, spooked even. Like the thought of being loved is absolutely horrifying alone.
“Be good? Kinda kinky, innit?” Simon mumbles out in response, looking at you with a quirked brow.
But you don’t stop. And he doesn’t stop you.
Clothes continue to fly off, positions change, but somehow you manage to remain in full control for once. And he lets you. Sure, you have to correct him at times, have to remind him to slow down, all with soft smiles and gentle praise- and he eats it up like a starving hound.
Even now, as moans and breathy praise leaves your lips, Simon being vocal, a rarity on it’s own, at least to this extent.
“Feel s’ good around me, love, fuck, so good,” He fucking babbles, his cock dragging along the walls of your drooling cunt at a slow, but steady pace. You’re underneath him now- stereotypical missionary- but it’s divine.
You pull Simon’s head down, pressing his forehead against your own, your legs wrapped loosely around his hips as his cock drags deliciously over all those sweet spots inside, the soft mound above his cock pressing against your clit with every. Single. Thrust.
It’s a slow build up, so slow, and while he focuses on clenching his fists into the sheets above your head, resting on his elbows on either side of it, you focus on touching him, praising him.
“Always so good to me, baby,” You practically purr the words.
“I love you so much, Si, so much,” You say, breathless as your back arches, forehead pressed to his and eyes closed in bliss of the slow building pleasure.
“Like you were made jus’ for me, sweet boy,” Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, one of them tangling in his hair.
“Love how you make me feel, Simon,” You moan out, legs tightening their grip around his hips.
If your eyes weren’t closed, you’d see how Simon is looking at you right now.
Simon is looking at you like you’re a fucking goddess… but the vision is blurry, from the pure overwhelming, unshed tears in his eyes. God, he’s pathetic, isn’t he? Crying? During sex? But he can’t even entertain the thought- thoughtful praise continuing to spill from your lips as he continues his slow, languid, deep thrusts.
He focuses on the feeling, on the way your words are soothing parts of him he didn’t care to recognize were broken, he focuses on the way your hands trail across his skin so fucking lovingly- as if he’s actually worth something. As if he’s someone and not a monster. As if he doesn’t have hundreds of lives taken by the very hands you praise for touching you.
No- no, none of that matters right now, as for the first time in his fucking life Simon Riley doesn’t fuck- he makes love.
“God- g-gonna make me cum, Simon- fuck- love the way you make me cum-” You whimper out, back arching into him and fuck, Simon can’t take it anymore.
Simon doesn’t know what to think. Sure, the pleasure is mind-numbing, your pussy always feels so fucking good when it’s wrapped around his cock like this, but it’s damn near tripled by the pure feelings you’re forcing him to feel. The way his chest burns, but it’s so good- he can fucking feel the love you have for him, the way you hold him in your heart, the way you think of him as though he put the very stars in the sky for you and you alone. And he would- fuck he absolutely would. He’d give you the world should you ask for it- fuck he loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.
He doesn’t speed up- he wants the slower build up, too, doesn’t want to rush it, but he’s going to shatter if more praise leaves your lips so he presses down, slotting his mouth against your own, a minor distraction really.
You can feel the wetness to his cheeks.
You know it’s not sweat.
Your hands move to cup his cheeks so softly, so lovingly, so gently. You moan into his mouth as the pleasure builds until that band finally fucking snaps, and you’re on cloud nine.
Simon buries his head in the crook of your neck, his hot, thick cum shooting ropes into you as your cunt squeezes his cock like a vice, truly milking him for all he’s worth.
You’re both panting, but Simon's head stays hidden- you know why, you can feel the tears against your neck, but you don’t say anything.
You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you come down from your high, nuzzling your cheek against the top of his head.
“Love you so much,” You whisper out, running a hand through his hair, still slightly breathless.
You can feel Simon place the softest kiss to your neck, arms squeezing you almost too tightly, but you don’t say anything.
You know your Simon. He’s not a monster. He’s not a killing machine. He’s a man- your man. Simon’s not unlovable, he’s not broken. He’s not stupid for simply not knowing. He’s not stupid for simply needing to be taught.
And you love him. Gods, do you love him. You’ll teach him. You’ll teach him it’s okay, he’s safe here, in your arms. He’s safe to love, to cry, to breakdown, he’s safe to get the very things he’s never had- and you’ll give them willingly.
You don’t know how long you stay like that. His now soft cock still buried in your cunt, his tears have subsided awhile ago, but he’s still unwilling to move from his spot- not that you’re complaining.
It’s so quiet you barely even hear it, but fuck, you’re so glad you did.
“Love ya,” Simon mumbles against your skin, his voice so quiet, hoarse and rough. But so very soft, so very gentle.
Yeah. Simon Riley can fuck like a god. But Simon Riley is learning how to love you fully, how to make love to you fully- and he wouldn’t change a thing. Neither would you.
#simon riley x you#cod x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#141 x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#smut#tw crying#ghost x reader smut#simon riley smut
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oi, matt! can i get a macchiato? mayhaps over ice if that’s what the barista has to offer today….
matt x assistant!reader at nelson and murdock is one of my favourite flavours ever. i just neeeeed your take on it.
you know I had to kick off the celebration with this slut (works for you or matty) <3 also just so you know I could've kept going with this forever but tumblr told me to shut up bc apparently there's a word limit on answering asks but you get the picture ;)
as a reminder, over ice means it's spicy ! (minors dni)
headcannon below the cut
matt murdock is an hr nightmare
when foggy mentions that nelson & murdock could desperately use an assistant since karen is now at the bulletin, before matt even has a chance to speak, foggy is warning him to keep his dick in his pants
and when matt pulls that face (you know the one, the "she wanted to teach me" look of faux innocence) foggy reminds matt that not only is he a whore but he also has a history of being tempted by forbidden fruit (he probably fucked all the female interns at landman and zack, and then there's karen who he would've slept with if frank & elektra hadn't shown up but that's a different story for a different day)
matt does the lil "i cross my heart" thing and swears to foggy that he won't get involved with the new assistant
he also makes this promise to himself bc let's face it he's a human disaster who's life is constantly falling apart and the last thing he needs is drama that could've been avoided if he thought with the right head
but then the day of the interviews arrive and you walk in the room, and matt knows at that moment that he is completely fucked
your scent hits him first, something soft and subtle, a breath of fresh air from the stuffy office smell and the lingering assault of pungent perfume left behind by other candidates that had given him a dull headache
then it's your voice, god your voice, it's the most melodious sound he's ever heard. it's gentle but crisp, and your alluring intonation has him hanging onto your every word, especially his name that fell from your lips in greeting
touching your hand nearly does him in, bc getting to feel your smooth skin caress his rough palm makes it even worse. there's a an electric spark that tingles in his fingertips and shoots throughout the rest of his body, and he finds himself wondering if you feel it too, but then catches himself and quickly plasters on a professional appearance
it was one thing that every single thing about your existence drew him in, but the fact that you were also intelligent and well-spoken, deeply passionate and genuinely empathetic, while also quick to craft clever responses without your sharp wit coming off as ostentatious just made matt want you more
matt was uncharacteristically quiet while foggy asked most of the questions, to which you gave perfect answers, and occasionally chimed in with a few of his own just to redirect your attention where he wanted it: on him
by the end of the interview, foggy was sold on you, and so was matt, but for duplicitious reasons
matt tries so hard to keep his promise, but fuck do you make it (and him) hard. he makes a point to never be alone with you in the office. if a round at josie's is suggested, he makes sure foggy or karen will also be there. he tries to balance between being friendly while also being professional, trying to find the invisible line that crosses from innocent inquisitions to dangerous territory
he does his best not to initiate physical contact, which proves to be difficult, bc you're a hugger and always politely offering matt your arm to guide him whenever you go anywhere
you're so kind and thoughtful and treat him the exact way you treat everyone else and it makes him want to put his head through a wall bc every day that he spends with you makes this attraction worse and worse and he can't tell if it's purely physical or if it goes deeper than that
and then one day he just fucking snaps
matt has a really bad day. a lead he'd been working on for weeks ended up being a dead end, and matt had taken his frustration out on some petty thug in an alley, but it wasn't enough. he'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed, late at that, to a handful of voicemails from a pissed off foggy. it had been a grueling day in court, all of his senses were overwhelmed, and he had so much pent up tension in his body that he felt stiff
he was so wrapped up in himself that when he walked through the door of the office, he didn't realize he'd broken his own rule: never be alone with you
as soon as he realizes his mistake, he heads towards his office, returning your polite greeting with a grunt of acknowledgement. he hoped that you'd leave it alone, that you'd say something like you were just about to leave, and he'd be spared from you coming closer. but you being you, noticing every little detail and having learned to read matt, could tell something was off
you just wanted to help. you always just wanted to help, and matt loved that about you, but right now, it was only making this more difficult for him bc his self restraint was deteriorating
and then you gently touched his shoulder and matt let out a groan bc he could smell what you'd done the night previously. the scent of your arousal was still embedded in your skin even though you'd washed your hands several times, and the scent of soap was almost nonexistent as matt's nose focused solely on the delectable scent of your pussy on your own fingers
he'd made himself come many times to the thought of you over the last few months, but knowing that you'd fingered yourself last night possibly to the thought of him is what broke his resolve
matt didn't need his heightened senses to know you were attracted to him, that you felt something for him too. he knew it because he knew you, and sometimes you were obvious even when you thought you were being subtle for the sake of both your friendship and your professional reputation
before either of you could process what was happening, matt was devouring your mouth in a heated kiss, your blouse was halfway unbuttoned, just enough for him to pull down the cups of your bra to leave your tits spilling into his welcoming hands. your soft whimpers echoed around the empty office as he toyed with your nipples while assaulting your neck with his teeth and tongue
in record time you were bent over his desk, skirt bunched up around your hips, panties caught around your calves, and matt was pulling down his zipper to free his fully hard cock
the immense relief he felt as he sank into you fully from behind nearly brought him to his knees. he didn't know if it was the heightened allure of having something he wasn't supposed to, or how perfectly your tight cunt enveloped his thick cock, but he quickly got lost in your warm walls like a dazzling labyrinth he never wanted to escape
you were so fucking wet that it was obscene the noises your pussy made welcoming his cock as he pounded into you over and over and over again. but his favorite sound was you chanting his name, desperately pleading for more, which he was all too happy to oblige
you took him so well, your pussy enveloping his cock in a greedy manner, not allowing him the chance to slip out despite how soaked you were. he reached as deep as your body would allow and fucked you relentlessly like a madman on a mission
his rough hands gripped your hips in a bruising manner, and he was completely lost in a fog of lust. it didn't take long for either of you to come undone and it finally clicked for matt that he wasn't the only one that had been depriving himself for the sake of not crossing a boundary when your cunt tightened around his cock before flooding him with your release
matt waited until the absolute last possible second, swiftly pulling out with a hiss as he replaced your pussy with his right hand, stroking his cock at an inhuman speed just a few times before coating your ass in ropes of his come
he collapsed in his chair, but not without wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you down with him. the sound of heavy panting filled his office, and the air was humid and drenched in the scent of sex. matt nuzzled his face into your neck, hugging your back to his chest while the two of you attempted to catch your breath
he's able to pick up on the fact that your heart is still racing not bc of the incredible spontaneous sex, but also out of anxiety about what happens next, so matt decides to break the silence first
"I uh...know this is kinda backwards but, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner?"
in conclusion, he's a fucking menace
#court's 4k followers celebration#court's 4k friends celebration#court's cafe#matt murdock#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x female reader#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock headcannon#matt murdock request#matt murdock smut#daredevil#daredevil headcannon#daredevil request#daredevil smut
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Context Clues: Elriel (and removal of the BC)
Happy Elriel month! This is my first one (I think most of you know that I am only about two months old in the online fandom) and I am still REELING from the fact that apparently not everyone needed to douse themselves in cold water after Elain and Azriel's interaction in the bonus chapter (and that Az is apparently both an incel AND a fuckboy, although those are mutually exclusive and non interchangeable traits. And Elain is secretly obsessed with Lucien and just toying with Az. But I digress.)
While I personally thought the bonus chapter confirmed Elriel, and of course others felt the complete opposite, I wanted to spend some time focusing on solely the books and seeing what we have. As we know, the bonuses are just *bonuses* available in a limited number of editions, in limited countries, and limited languages. I personally read all bonus chapters, but many don't. So excluding the BC from the conversation, where did A Court of Silver Flames leave us?
Here is the final on page interaction between Azriel and Elain in ACOSF:
A charged glance that takes Elain's breath away.
Here is the final on page interaction between Elain and Lucien in ACOSF:
Elain shrinks into herself after opening a present from her mate.
Here are the previous interactions between Azriel and Elain in ACOSF:
Elain acting all shy around Azriel.
Azriel's shadows ready to throw hands over Elain's hurt feelings.
Here are the previous on page interactions between Elain and Lucien:
There are none.
However, there are references, and they are as follows:
Lucien choosing to live in the human lands despite his mate living in Velaris.
Lucien dripping with discomfort over his presence only being expected because of Elain.
Meanwhile, here is Azriel referencing Elain when she is not there:
Azriel's shadows swarming and being unable to calm down at the mere thought of something happening to Elain.
Azriel stiffening at the mention of Elain's capture, and reminding Cassian he helped rescue her.
Nesta only agreeing to scrying because she trusts Azriel with Elain, the only person who could understand other than her or Feyre.
I have always, and will always reiterate that I am personally Lucien and Gwyn positive. Maybe that's because I'm so new, and haven't been whittled down from all the rudeness yet. (literally as I was working on this post, I got an unprompted comment from an E/ucien on one of my tiktoks that they can't wait to laugh at me when she chooses Lucien. It's annoying. And it sucks. But I know all sides do it.)
I joined the space because I was so overwhelmed by the negative Elain content. By the erasure of her thoughts and feelings and experiences. Bonus content aside, I also feel for Lucien, and my shipping him with Vassa is because he blushes and laughs and relaxes around her. Because she is fiery like Jesminda, the only other female he has ever loved. I don't personally have a ship for Gwyn yet because my reading experience hasn't taken me there in the story yet!
Look, I'm still out here shipping Klaroline and TVD and The Originals went their separate ways almost a decade ago. Ships should be fun. They don't always have to be canon. I'm simply sharing that the reason I make this content for you guys is to provide some comfort to people like me, who felt overwhelmed and gaslit by all the hatred for Elain- dissertations and powerpoints dedicated to erasing her and her value and feelings- as someone who read the books and loved her, as well as her dynamic with Azriel.
I will continue to refrain from discussing the bonus chapter (in this post) no matter how SEXY it was, and how in line it is with everything already happening in the books, but I'm just trying to showcase what the experience is for book readers only, which is the vast majority globally.
Stay kind out there, and manifesting a book announcement soon! Happy Elriel month, all!
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𐙚 ๋࣭ ⭑love, or han jisung
♡ pairing - han x reader
♡ just a lil thing bc han is cute and these photos made me go crazy :33 (unedited !!)
♡ warnings - food mention, cannibalism joke djdjdj, ummm i don't think anything else but lmk if i missed smthn !
♡ wc - tba (short lol, i'll check on my laptop when i can!)
"Babe?"
"Hmm?"
"How do I look here?" Han asks timidly, and you roll over to look at the photos he's got up on his phone. "Do I look okay...?"
There's nothing you can say at first, just staring at the images and swiping between the three selcas with your mouth slightly open. Okay? Oh, he looks way better than okay. With his hair growing longer, it covers part of his face in a mass of fluff, and you have to fight the urge to break every pair of scissors at the JYPE building.
"You look amazing, as always," you say with a smile when you realize you've been silent too long.
Although you've only been dating a few months, you knew how Jisung could get when you didn't reply fast enough, but sometimes your mouth doesn't move as quickly as your brain does. You never want him to think you're not talking because you don't like something or don't care, unknowingly letting his insecurities spiral as you regain the function to speak. It's almost always the opposite, speechless from awe, not disgust.
Like now, reassuring him you mean what you say with a peck on his cheek. You've spent the day lounging in bed and listening to the rain fall, entangled in each other's warmth. He's wearing one of the few hoodies you haven't stolen away and a matching pair of sweat pants. It's simple, it's him. There's a soft smile on Jisungs face as he stretches over you to place his phone down on the nightstand. As soon as it hits the wood, he's dropped his entire body weight onto you.
"Jisuuuuung," you groan, dramatically gasping under him. "I can't breathe!"
You try and try to roll out from under him, but he's got you pinned down. Turning your head to the side, you find his face right by yours and jump at the sudden distance; more of a flinch than a jump really, considering your current position. A goofy smile forms on Jisung's face, your own features mimicking his. With the hand not squished by his body, you poke Jisung's cheek and he sticks his tongue out.
"I could eat you, you're so cute," You say, scrunching up your nose. "Like, just a bite out of your squishy cheek. Just a nibble on the tip of your nose."
"Am I dating a cannibal?" Jisung's eyes widen in fake shock, raising himself above you on his palms dramatically. As hard as he's trying to keep the act up, a few breathy laughs escape him. "Baby, do I need to call Minho-hyung to cook some food for you? I'm worried."
"No, I have a nice meal right here." You don't give him time to react before you're wrapping a hand behind his neck and sinking your teeth into his neck lightly. You can feel him jolt before relaxing into your touch.
Kissing the spot your teeth landed on, you pull back to see Jisung with his eyes closed and a soft smile on his blushing face. When he opens his eyes, you're sure he's found the same on you, leaning in to rub the tip of your noses together. You're against the headboard now, fingers tangling into his hair, the hood of his sweater falling behind his ears.
"I love you, you know that, right?" Jisung asks, eyebrows knitting together.
"Of course, why wouldn't I?"
"Because I'm not always here, or because of past arguments, or because I'm too much-" You cut him off by brushing your fingers over his lips.
"Whoever told you you're too much doesn't know what they're missing out on, Ji. You're funny and talented, and you're mine," He sighs into your cheek. "I love all of you, whether you're here physically or not. If you need me to verbalize it more I will, because I will never have a problem telling my beautiful boyfriend how much I love him."
"I like it when you call me that."
"Boyfriend?"
"Your boyfriend."
"My boyfriend, Han Jisung."
This time, his lips find yours and you can't tear away, breathless in minutes. When you finally do pull away, his face is flushed and his lips are puffy. You giggle and cup his face with one hand, the other intertwined with his. You stay like this for a while, listening to the rain and basking in each other's presence. Love, or in your words, Han Jisung.
♡
notes - this is not edited lol and also was supposed to be a cute lil thing without much plot at all :33 hehehe i hope u enjoyeeeed. also, @tfshouldidohere , GO TO BED !!
taglist - @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom
if you'd like to be added or removed from my permanent taglist, pls lmk! if you'd like to be added, please keep in mind i only accept 18+
#𐙚 ๋࣭ ⭑love or han jisung#I FORGOT TO TAG THIS LMFAO#han jisung x reader#han x reader#han jisung#han jisung fanfic#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfic#skz#stray kids#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz fluff#skz one shot#stray kids fluff#stray kids one shot
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exactly what he needs, pt. 5 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | other parts here
— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader
— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)
— summary: you have an unsettling exchange with cal, you spend the day with nate, then he takes you to a party with the express purpose of getting you drunk.
— tags: shopping with nate, learning to drive, partying, swimming
— tw: f receiving oral, humping nate's thigh in public, coerced intoxication, skinny dipping, reader touching nate's genitals at his suggestion while drunk, lying, dollification, guilt-tripping/emotional manipulation (sexual & otherwise), gas lighting, major invasion of privacy, sexual assault (reader is drunk and nate touches them in a sexual way, so i count it), love-bombing, vomiting, eating | there will not be a date rape in this after the party, i promise!
— word count: 15,729
— a/n: cal, during his convo w/ reader, isn't trying to be an asshole toward nate, he's trying to give her a genuine warning. the line 'he kills what he loves' i went back & added to try & i guess pull some kind of parallel between the two men, like when cal said 'i kill what i eat' on the show. bc i do think cal is capable of love. i think nate is only capable of obsession/infatuation, which is easy to mix up in the heat of the moment.
if nate seems different w/the reader than he does w/ cassie, it's bc he's obviously still hiding his true colors with reader.
the song I had in mind during the party is dangerous (oliver remix), which was indeed used during the show.
i hope reading this feels as ominous as it did writing it lmao.
When you wake in the middle of the night, it's with Nate's arm slung heavily over your abdomen, his hand hanging off the side of the bed.
You wiggle out from under him, still naked, before picking up his t-shirt and slipping it on before quietly unlocking his door and heading down to the kitchen for a glass of water.
Once you have it, you go to head back up to bed, until you hear his father calling to you from the living room, stopping you in your tracks.
You pad into the room, the light from the TV flickering against the dark which fills near every corner. "I was just getting a glass of water," you say, worried that he may think you were trying to steal from him in the middle of the night.
"Anything else you need?"
You shake your head, wishing you were wearing more than just a t-shirt right now. "I'm all set, thank you."
"Can I ask you something?"
You shift nervously as his eyes trail from your bare legs, back up to your face. "Sure."
"How is he? Nate?"
"What do you mean?"
He shrugs, glancing back to the TV. "He doesn't talk to me. Can't stand me, as I'm sure he's told you, or, at the very least, from what you can tell all on your own. I just want to know how he's doing." He looks at you again. "I assume he talks to you."
"If you mean in regards to you: no, he doesn't. You're the one thing he refuses to open up about. He...he seems fine, though. Most of the time, at least. He just seems to have this simmering-"
"Rage?" He finishes.
You nod. "I don't know if it stems from something that happened between the two of you, or if it's from however Maddy treated him, or something else." You glance down to the floor, then back up. "Maybe it's all of it. Maybe his life has just snowballed and he doesn't know how to deal with it. But you obviously care about him. So... I know what it's like to have an absent father." You pause. "I know it isn't my place, but...try to fix whatever is broken between the two of you before it's too late. Even if he hates you for it, he'll at least know you made that effort."
Cal grows quiet, for a long while, only the TV playing softly in the background. Then, "You're a smart girl, I can tell. Mature for your age. So, I'm going to give you a piece of advice." He leans forward. "Run. My son is not the guy for you. You can't fix him, and you can't help him. You can't give aid to a drowning man who chose to jump into the deep end in the first place.
"If you stay with him, he will ruin you. But I know you will anyway, despite this conversation. Maybe in spite of it. Just know that you're not the first, and you won't be the last." He leans back again. "No woman will ever make him happy, will ever live up to his perfect ideals of femininity. And, if they do, he'll fucking hate them for it. That anger he feels toward me? Give it time. You'll become the new punching bag. He kills what he loves"
You suddenly feel sick.
"Goodnight, Y/N."
You swallow, even if your mouth has now gone dry. "Goodnight, Mr. Jacobs," you say, turning away from him.
"Cal," he calls after you.
You turn your head back to look at him.
"Just Cal is fine."
You only nod before going back upstairs.
When you close Nate's door behind you, he's still asleep.
You lock it, then lean back against it, staring at him, your head spinning.
What the hell had just happened?
You watch Nate sleep, wanting to cry. But not for yourself. No. For him. He's only seventeen, and his own father is trying to drive away someone he's only just gotten together with.
You try to piece things together.
Nate dislikes him, of course. The incident in the kitchen had seemed a bit more aggressive than Cal just joking around with him.
So, maybe...maybe he's jealous? Jealous that his son is young and still has options, whereas, at his age, he's set in his ways. But that doesn't make sense, either. Cal is handsome, successful, wealthy, has—what seems like, at least—a lovely wife. Has two sons, who you're sure will both go far, given their dad's money, if nothing else. At least, in Nate's case, it will also be due to hard work and perseverance.
No wonder Nate hates this house so much, had been so eager to get you into his room and away from...him.
It'd been something in the way he had looked at you that had made your skin crawl. Like he could see everything under the thin t-shirt draped over your frame.
Then you wonder if that's true at all, or if Nate's disdain for him is just rubbing off, creating a perception of him that isn't even real.
You want to blame it all on being tired, but you can't just ignore what Cal had told you.
So you finally lie down next to Nate, his body quickly pulling your own against his—finding you even in his sleep—and you stare up at the ceiling.
You try to think back through every interaction you've had with Nate the last couple of weeks. Trying to find any blaring red flags.
This had all started out as a secret: the tutoring.
You wonder if you should've brought it up to his dad just to see his reaction. To see if it would even bother him. But, even if not, it's easy for children to be terrified of disappointing their parents so much so that they hide things that said parent would never even get upset over.
There'd been the Fezco story, which hadn't seemed quite right to you. Rue was a drug addict, a sad fact, but a fact nonetheless. However, she seemed to mostly mind her own business and keep to herself. She never seemed the kind to stir up pointless drama. So, why would she target Nate randomly?
You mentally file that away for further observation.
Then there was his dressing you and doing your hair, which still came off as a bit odd. But maybe it's just another way of him trying to show affection? And honestly...you kind of like it. Not in a sexual way, but in a way that makes you feel warm and looked after.
And it's less for you to have to worry about. At least if he's doing your hair, it saves you time and effort in fighting with it.
Him spending obscene amounts of money on you without your permission had been a bit much for your comfort levels, but as you look at him, your heart breaks.
He'd told you how with Maddy he'd done all he could to "get her to love him back". And you're sure that's what he's trying to do with you, because that's what she had taught him love is: financially transactional.
Honestly, you want to hold him just thinking about it.
What had happened to this poor, sweet boy to make him think that he alone isn't good enough?
From his father being cruel and overly-critical, to Maddy being emotionally and verbally abusive, to Cassie being controlling and possessive, he's done nothing but endure mistreatment after mistreatment from people that're supposed to love him and that he tried to love himself.
You stop trying to find something wrong with him then. Instead focusing on the good. Him giving you compliments, always getting the door for you, driving you places, taking you on dates, giving you sweet gifts, helping you with the groceries, opening up to you and you also doing as much with him...the list goes on.
You cuddle closer to his chest, thinking, as you drift off to sleep, that Maddy and Cassie have no idea what they've lost.
When Nate wakes the next morning, you're still asleep, pressed against his side. And as he lays there, looking down at you—you breathing softly—he says it for the first time in a quiet whisper.
"I love you."
You don't stir, even for a moment.
And he means it. Really means it this time.
Because he knows he's finally fucking done right by himself. He'd studied and observed and manipulated you for two weeks until finally getting you into his bed, and you'd played along beautifully. Backing down at every turn when he needed or wanted you to, letting him have control.
From choosing places you both went together, to ordering for you at the bistro, him choosing your clothes, doing your hair, driving you around, letting him touch you—even if you weren't entirely comfortable with it, but allowing it anyway because you knew it made him happy—to making yourself smaller and sweeter and more agreeable to him in his moments of anger and irritation... You were perfectly submissive and gentle and soft.
He'd only have to make a few more tweaks here and there and his work would be done. You'd be everything he's been waiting and looking for.
He lays back against the headboard, fingers dancing along the bare skin of your back—it'd only taken one evening to get you naked and spreading you legs for him in bed. And he didn't think less of you for it. If you'd been with anyone else before, he would, absolutely. But he'd seen the proof plain as fucking day while going down on you last night: you're still intact. No one else has touched you.
No, you'd done it because you were falling, whether you knew it or not. And because he had tons of experience over you. All you had known in that sweet, innocent little mind of yours was that you wanted more of what he was willing to give you. Because it felt so much better when it was coming from another person. From him.
He grabs his phone, scrolling through Instagram, checking his email, his texts, while he waits for you to wake up next to him.
When you wake, it's with your face pressed against Nate's side. It takes you a moment to realize he's already awake, sitting up.
You sit up as well, covering yourself with a dark blue sheet.
"Good morning," you say shyly.
He drops his phone onto his bedside table, giving you his full attention. "Morning, angel."
He leans forward, planting a soft kiss to your lips.
You reach up. "My hair is probably a mess," you say nervously.
He leans back. "You look perfect. But you can use the bathroom if you want."
You nod, standing, and Nate takes in your naked body before you slip on his t-shirt, walking into the bathroom.
Once you've relieved yourself, you brush your teeth, then gasp when you look in the mirror before starting on your hair.
You quickly open the bathroom door and Nate looks at you with a lazy look on his face.
"What did you do?" You ask, fingers reaching up to gently press against the dark purple bruise he'd left on your neck.
He smirks. "Oops."
Blood rushes to your face in embarrassment. "People will see this."
He shrugs. "Let 'em."
You cross your arms, feeling uncomfortable. "It...it looks trashy."
He sighs. "It looks like a hicky."
"Nate-"
He rolls his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So, what, did I fuck up last night, too? I thought you enjoyed it."
You withdraw into yourself. "N-no, you didn't. I did—enjoy it, I mean."
He lowers his hand, looking up to you with a hurt expression. "Do you regret it?"
You feel absolutely horrible.
You pad over to him, sitting down beside him, taking one of his hands in yours, the other coming up to cup his cheek. "No, of course not. I liked it...all of it. I'm sorry. I overreacted."
You wrap your arms around his neck, and his face quickly returns to normal as you hug him.
"I enjoyed it, Nate. That's the first time I've done anything. I'm glad it was with you." You whisper, pressing your body closer to his own.
He waits a moment, lets you sweat over a possibility of having truly hurt him, then you relax when his arms wind around you.
"If you don't want me to in the fut-"
You pull back. "No, I do." You don't really wanting to be walking around with love bites for all to see, but you'll just have to figure out a way to cover them up in the future.
You'd rather that than making him worry that you don't enjoy being intimate with him.
You press your lips to his. You look at him for a moment, giving him a soft smile before you stand, returning to the bathroom.
Once you've brushed your hair, and washed your face, you return to bed, sitting next to Nate.
You gingerly take one of his hands in your own.
“Are you hungry?” You ask.
He glances between your legs, then back into your eyes.
You blush, looking down.
“Are you?”
You shrug. “I could eat.” You look at him again. “Do you want me to make you breakfast again?”
He slowly moves his hand up your thigh. He doesn’t like the idea of his dad seeing you like this. Bare from your thighs down—more-so uncomfortable because you have nothing on underneath the t-shirt you’re wearing, even if he wishes you hadn’t bothered with putting it back on in the first place.
He stands. “Let me see if I can find you a pair of shorts or something.”
“I thought you said nothing you have will fit?”
He doesn’t reply as he pulls a pair of drawstring basketball shorts out of his dresser, turning around to hand them to you. “Put these on.”
You stand, doing as instructed, cinching the waist. They still look ridiculously big, but they stay in-place.
“Good enough,” he says before pulling on a t-shirt and putting on his sweatpants from last night—before going to sleep he’d taken them off, only sleeping in his boxers. He typically sleeps naked, but knew doing so last night most likely wouldn’t have been a good idea. Perhaps after you stay over a few more times he’ll strip one night, letting you wake up to his naked body pressed against yours.
He takes your hand as the two of you exit his room and he leads you downstairs.
You’d slept until nearly eleven, so the rest of the house is already up. He just hopes you sleeping so late isn’t a regular thing. But he understands that you’d exerted yourself a bit more than usual last night. He smirks at the thought.
Thankfully, the kitchen is empty when Nate leads you into it.
You lean back against a counter. “What would you like to eat?”
He seats himself at the island. “Do you know how to make an omelette?”
You smile. “Yes.”
You go to the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs, some cheese, and you grab a bell pepper from a fruit bowl on the counter, setting it all down.
You begin pulling open drawers, looking for a knife, a whisk, and a bowl, and Nate just watches with idle amusement at you familiarizing yourself with his kitchen.
You and Nate eat side-by-side, his knee brushing against yours as he takes bites of his omelette.
He swallows. “I know I said it before, but you really are a good fucking cook.”
You glance at him and smile. “Thank you.”
Once the two of you are finished, Nate helps you load the dishwasher. “What do you want to do today?”
You lean back against the counter again and he plants his palms flat on either side of you, caging you in.
You grip the hem of his t-shirt. “I’m not sure.”
“I could take you shopping again?”
Your heart sinks.
You reach up, gently touching your fingertips against his cheek. Your eyes have softened as you look into his own.
“I know we talked about it before, and that you said that’s not why you did it, but I don’t ever want you to think you have to buy my affection, Nate. And I know you also said you didn’t want to talk about them anymore, but I’m not Maddy. My feelings for you aren’t transactional. I’m with you for you. And I’ll never try to control you like Cassie.”
You briefly think back to your exchange with his father last night and that well of sadness you now feel for him deepens. You wrap your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his hair. “I just want you. Exactly as you are. You’re more than enough for me. Please don’t ever feel like you have to bend over backwards to make, or keep me happy. I’m just glad I finally have someone to talk to and spend time with; that I'm not alone anymore.”
Nate slowly wraps his arms around you as well, wondering what the hell had come over you. He doesn’t dislike it. No, the very opposite. He likes it when you’re soft and kind with him. Not because he needs it, but because your feminine personality, especially in moments like this, more than compliment his masculine one.
All he can think is: this is exactly how it’s supposed to be. You submissive and sweet, loving and caring. Cooking and cleaning and doing as you’re told, letting him—one man—teach you about sex and your own body. Letting him make your decisions for you, like what you can wear, how to do your hair—he plans to expand that list drastically as time goes on. Also letting him think for you in the future, he hopes.
His sob stories about Maddy and Cassie had worked, apparently. A few truths, a few lies, and you saw him as someone who’d been used and taken advantage of by evil women.
You saw him as a good man.
He doesn’t wish he were. He knows what he is. He just hopes he can keep you blind to that truth for awhile longer. At least until after the two of you have started having sex.
He presses his face into your hair. “I’m so glad I met you. Even if it had to happen twice.”
You nod. “Me too.”
Neither of you are aware of it, but his mom stands just around the corner, tears stinging her eyes. And she knows her little boy has finally found the right girl for himself.
When you pull away from Nate, he caresses both of your cheeks, bringing his lips down to your own. His hand slips under the oversized t-shirt hanging from your frame , moving higher until he's cupping one of your bare breasts. He rubs the pad of his thumb against your nipple until it pebbles.
You pull away and he quickly moves his lips to your neck, sucking on that same hicky from last night.
You gasp. "Nate, what if someone walks in?"
He gently bites down and your hips buck against him.
He lifts you onto the counter, moving his lips back to yours, considering reaching his hand into his shorts that hang from your hips, until his phone vibrates in his pocket.
He bites back a curse at the ruined moment.
He pulls away from you with an irritated sigh and you wait patiently while he checks the notification.
He scans over the message, then looks up to you. "Do you want to go to a party tonight?"
You blink at him. "Like a birthday party?"
He smiles at your sweet innocence. "No, baby, a real party."
"Oh." You consider it for a moment. "I've never been to one."
He smirks, stepping closer to you, between your dangling legs. "I figured as much."
"Do you want to go?"
In truth, he usually wouldn't much care either way, but he knows this is a perfect opportunity to get you drunk, just to see what he can get out of it—out of you.
"I wouldn't mind it. It'd give us something to do tonight."
He give him a peck on the lips. "Okay."
He'd honestly thought you'd try to talk him into some fairytale movie night instead. He's pleased with your easy agreement.
"The party doesn't start until nine, which really means to show up after ten, at least. So we have the whole day ahead of us. We could run over to your place, get you changed, and pick up an outfit for tonight." He doesn't mention also getting pajamas for when he brings you back here after getting you loaded. You can either sleep naked or in something of his. But he'll make that decision then.
"Okay," you say pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
"Once you've changed I'll give you your first driving lesson."
You still then, and he dislikes your sudden change in demeanor. He prefers you agreeable and cute.
"What do you mean?"
He raises a brow. "Don't worry, I'm not going to be putting you on the interstate your first day. I'll teach you some of the basics in the school parking lot."
He moves his hand back under your shirt, gripping the curve of your side.
"And that's all, right?"
He nods.
You gently grip his t-shirt. "Okay."
He smiles.
Once you and Nate have arrived at your house, he follows you into your bedroom. Before you can open your closet to find a proper outfit to change into, he beats you to it. You stand to the side, still unsure how to feel about him picking out your clothes.
You say nothing about it, however, telling yourself it's one way he shows affection.
He hands you the blue babydoll dress he'd bought you, then picks up a pair of matte silver flats from your small shoe rack at the bottom of your closet, setting them near your bedroom door.
Without a word, without even your permission, he opens the top drawer of your dresser and begins to browse your panties and bras.
"W-what're you-"
He looks at you over his shoulder. "I've already seen you naked, sweetheart. Am I not allowed to pick out your panties?"
You blush furiously—your cheeks hot—before sitting down on your bed. You don't answer as he turns back around, picking out a pair of sky-blue panties with tiny dark-blue flowers printed on them and a white bra with lace trim and a heart sewn in the middle.
He tosses the items on your bed.
"Stand up for me, baby."
You do as he asks and he slowly pushes the hem of the t-shirt you're wearing up. You lift your arms and he removes it entirely, dropping it on the floor. You feel the need to cover your bare breasts, but refrain as he rubs the pads of his thumbs over each of your nipples.
He then reaches down, puling at the drawstring of the shorts he'd given you to wear and they fall to the carpeted floor, pooling at your feet.
You feel beyond self-conscious being completely naked before him in the daylight.
And he can tell just by your shift in body language. Pressing your thighs together, hands clasped in front of your genitals. And you refuse to look at him now.
He cups one of your cheeks in his hand, his other arm resting at his side. "Are you insecure?"
You shrug.
His lip twitches. Good, he thinks.
Maddy had been too fucking confident in every way. And Cassie had been completely secure in her looks, her body. And he'd thought them both shallow sluts for it.
But you? You have humility. You need his approval. Because you have no idea what you have.
"Look at me, Y/N."
You do so reluctantly.
"Do you have any idea how fucking perfect you are? What seeing you like this does to me?"
He uses his free hand to grab at his erection over his jeans and fills with such fucking satisfaction at seeing your pure, innocent eyes widen when you look down.
You look back up to him. "O-oh."
He glances to your bed behind you, that teddy still in-place. He looks at you again, your eyes watching him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.
And he revels in it.
"Lie back on the bed, sweetheart."
You give a terse nod before doing so.
He leans over you, grabbing your bear, before handing it to you. "Hold this."
Your brows furrow, but you take the plush object from his grip.
He stands back up, removing his leather jacket before tossing it toward your chair in the corner. He then kneels down on the floor at the foot of your bed. Finally, he reaches forward, grabbing your hips and bringing himself face-to-face with that pretty pussy of yours.
"N-nate, wha-"
He immediately gets you to shut up by throwing your legs over his shoulders just like last night and devouring your already-wet pussy.
You grip your bear tighter, your body relaxing.
Nate eventually removes his lips from your cunt after a few minutes, then starts planting firm, wet kisses against your inner-thighs. Slowly. One after another after another. Occasionally sucking in one spot here, another there, working at giving you a couple more hickys, marking your privates as his very own.
He does the same as last night, gripping your hips in his large hands, keeping you still.
You whimper quietly, so he blows against your weeping pussy and you wiggle your hips, trying to get closer and he grins.
He flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit and watches as you pulsate for just a moment.
He reaches down, spreading your labia with his fore and middle fingers and admiring your in-tact seal. Mine, all fucking mine, he thinks before putting his mouth back on you.
He looks up, sees you gripping your teddy bear, biting your lip, your back arched and he moans against you at the beautiful fucking sight of you spread open and completely vulnerable before him.
He has you so fucking duped—thinking he's some injured boy looking for love—when all he really wants is to possess every part of you.
But he knows he's the best thing for you. What you need.
Not any of the idiotic guys at school who wouldn't know how to appreciate you. Wouldn't know how to provide for or protect you. Wouldn't know the first thing to do with you, other than try to shove their cocks in your face, or between your legs.
No, he wants you for far, far longer, and for far more than just some quick fuck.
You're sweet, inexperienced, and all alone. Not even you know what you need, what you want, who you are. But he does.
He runs his tongue along your hymen and you cry out and his eyes roll in pleasure at the sound. Finally he's gotten you to make some fucking noise.
He does it again and your body shudders.
He does his utmost to ignore his cock straining painfully against his pants.
He removes his mouth from you again and he hears a sound escape your lips that's something akin to a sob.
He begins to kiss your thighs again, working his way down to your knees, then back up each side. He sucks against the soft skin, leaving angry purple bruises on both sides before blowing against your clit again. You throw your teddy down out of frustration and he knows he nearly has you there.
He blows again, flicks his tongue lightly against your clit, a kiss and then another on either of your thighs, lightly biting. And then finally, finally, you reach down, tangling your fingers in his hair and you move your pussy closer, your ass now nearly hanging off the edge of the bed.
He looks up at you. "This what you want, sweetheart?"
Your fingers tighten then loosen against his scalp. "Mhm."
He blows against your dripping pussy. "You want me to let you cum, baby?"
You look down at him and your cheeks are a lovely shade of pink, your eyes glazed over with lust. "Please, Nate."
"How about pretty please?"
You lie back down against your fluffy white pillows with their frilly cases. "Pretty please?"
He kisses your right thigh. "Can you say with sugar on top?"
You squirm your hips and he holds them each in an iron-tight grip against the bed.
You let out a small sob.
She's finally fucking crying, he thinks.
"With sugar on top, please, p-pretty please?"
He kisses your left thigh, sucking on that pretty purple bruise of his own doing.
"And a cherry?" He asks.
You let out another sob and he can see a tear slip from your eye, dampening a spot on the pillow beneath your head.
God it's hardly taken him any effort at all. But, then again, you have nothing to compare him to.
"Prettypleasewithsugarontopandacherry?"
It all comes out as one long, garbled word, you say it so quickly. But he deems it good enough. He knows he's humiliated you by making you beg. But that you're so desperate for it that you'll do anything to have his mouth back on you.
"Good girl," he says before getting back to work with his tongue.
You start crying. "T-thank you."
It's after another ten minutes—you whining and grinding yourself into his mouth, whispering his name quietly over and over again—that he finally lets you fall over the edge. And it's something beautiful to fucking behold when you do.
Halfway through, he'd spread your right leg wider, his hand squeezing your thigh, keeping it in-place. He'd found your left hand with his, twining his fingers between yours, your hand squeezing his every few seconds as you concentrated on trying to find your release.
And when you orgasm, your hand squeezes his so hard it hurts, even a bit. He keeps your legs spread as you arch your back, your fingers tugging against his hair, rubbing your pussy against his mouth. And once you've calmed, your hammering heart slowing, he keeps your legs spread, watching your ass and pussy pulsate slowly. It's only once they've both stopped that he allows you to finally close your legs.
He climbs up onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and you cry quietly for a moment and you can't understand why.
He shooshes you. "It's alright, baby. You did so fucking good for me."
He places a soft kiss to the top of your head and you close your eyes, pressing yourself closer to him.
You feel so...different. Your body feels hot all over, a pleasant soreness between your legs, your thigh muscles a bit more overworked than usual, and your head feels...a bit foggy somehow? You feel relaxed for once. Content.
And the way you feel about Nate in this moment... You can't think like that. Can't acknowledge that little four-letter word. You were being ridiculous. But you'd never felt like this before. Never felt the way you had last night in his bed, either.
You can't say it. If you do, you'll lose him. And you can't lose anyone else. Because you have no one else to turn to if you do.
Now that you know how good it feels to be cared for and wanted and desired, you don't ever want to be alone again.
You suddenly feel tired and feel yourself starting to drift off to sleep against his broad, warm chest, his hands rubbing soothing circles against your bare back. You press your palms against him and yawn.
Then, "You ready for me to get you dressed, angel?"
Your eyes slowly flutter open. "I'm so tired."
He smirks. You would be.
Wait until he starts fucking you multiple times a day. You won't have energy for anything else. Or, that's the plan, at least. All you'll want is to stay naked in his bed. Too exhausted to even get up and put a t-shirt on.
He squeezes your small, soft body for a moment. "I know, but I really wanted to give you your first driving lesson today."
Not that he plans to let you start driving—not that you have the means to do so in the first place—but because he knows you'll learn sooner or later, and he wants to be the one to teach you yet one more thing.
He doesn't want it coming from another man, even if it's your dad.
You're his.
He sits up and you bury your face in a pillow and all he can do is think how cute you look.
"C'mon, let's go get you cleaned up."
You look up at him, at his outstretched hand, and you take it, following him sleepily to the bathroom.
As you stand in the shower, Nate gently wiping down your naked body with a warm, soapy cloth, you almost want to cry from how loved you feel.
You just can't manage to wrap your head around how Maddy or Cassie could've ever treated him the way they did. How Maddy could've been so cruel. Could've only wanted him for what he could give her. How she could've been so materialistic when he alone is so...wonderful.
You suppose you understand Cassie losing it over the thought of losing him. But it seems so evil to try and trap someone so kind and thoughtful in a relationship they no longer feel safe or comfortable in.
God, no reason he doesn't want to talk about either of them.
And then his dad treating him so terribly and trying to drive you away almost immediately after the two of you get together... You wonder if it isn't so Nate won't be 'distracted'. If he's the type of man to try and force his son to live up to some ideal image of manhood he himself could never quite achieve.
Your heart swells with affection for Nate, just like it did last night and this morning both.
You're broken from your thoughts by him speaking. "Turn."
You do.
Once Nate has rinsed you off, even shaved your legs, and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, he gestures for you to sit on the toilet lid and you watch as he pulls out your straightener like the day before.
You sit silently for a moment as he runs it over your hair. Then you decide you have to finally ask about his interest in styling.
"Nate?"
"Hm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
He's quiet for a moment, then, "Sure."
"How did you learn to do hair?"
He raises a brow, even if you can't see it. "Just comes naturally, I guess."
"Is...is that something you think you'd like to do one day? Styling or barbering?"
He nearly laughs at you. A straight man as a stylist.
"No. I just like doing yours."
"Oh." Then, "Why? Do you not like how I do it?"
Your tone sounds hurt, if not also a bit worried.
Good, you're finally worried about what he thinks of your appearance. You want his approval.
"I didn't say that. I just like taking care of you; dressing you up."
Like a doll, you think, but you don't say it.
He drops his hands, the hot tool now hanging by his side. "Why? Do you want me to stop doing it? Does it bother you that much?"
You turn back to him, gripping the towel wound around you. "No. I didn't say that."
You echo his own words back at him and his jaw feathers, not liking it. He'd picked out your clothes for you, gave you an orgasm without asking for anything in return, bathed you, and was now doing your hair, and you wanted to get fucking smart with him?
His free hand twitches at his side.
"It means...it means a lot to me, Nate. That you want to do things like this for me. That you care enough to try in the first place. No one has ever been so sweet to me." A tear falls and you quickly wipe it away, looking up at him again. "You're the most selfless person I've ever met."
He softens, his jaw relaxing, his fist loosening. He kneels down. "You're sure you don't mind?"
You shake your head, giving him a warm smile. "You make me feel so..." You trail off. You can't say loved. "So cared for. And safe."
You lean forward, kissing him softly. He moves his free hand under your towel and it falls open. He slides his hand from your thigh, to your hips, then to your back, pulling you closer to him. Finally, you wrap your arms around his neck as he deepens the kiss, flicking his tongue against your lips, silently asking for entrance, which you immediately grant him. Just as you start to spread your legs, clearly wanting him to give you something more, he stands, returning to your hair.
And as he finishes up with the straightener, all he can do is bite back an amused smile at you having called him 'selfless'. As if the things he does to you are for you.
Once Nate has finished with your hair—parting the fronts on either side from the rest, then joining them together in the back with a light blue bow he clips into place—he leads you back into your room.
He kneels down in front of you again, slipping your panties over your legs—you gripping his shoulder for support as you put one foot through one side, then the same with the other—he plants a quick kiss to your belly, which makes you giggle—the sound making him hard again. He then puts your bra on you.
Once he's clasped the back, he grabs your new dress and carefully lowers it over your head, careful not to mess up your hair. Once he's tied the large bow at the back of it, he adjusts your Tiffany necklace.
The pendant still resting in his palm, he looks at you. "Can you promise me something?"
You nod gently.
"Don't ever take this necklace off unless I tell you otherwise."
You're quiet for a moment, then, "Okay."
Once Nate has slipped your flats onto your feet, he looks you over for a moment, his eyes honing in on the hicky he'd left on your neck.
You stare back at him for a moment, before reaching up and pressing your fingertips against it. "I think I have some concealer-"
He shakes his head, not feeling like bothering with giving you a full-face of makeup at the moment.
"Do you have any chokers?"
Your brows furrow. "The necklaces?"
"Mhm."
You shake your head. "I never really got into those."
Well, you're about to, he thinks. He offers you his hand. "Let's go."
You slide your palm against his.
Once you're seated in Nate's truck, you grab your seatbelt, until he holds it in-place before you can pull it across your chest.
"Let me."
You let go and wait as he reaches across you, buckling you in. "I-I can do that."
He gives you a peck on the lips and a smile. "It's fine, I don't mind," he states before shutting your door.
Just as you're perhaps ten minutes away from the school, Nate turns down an unfamiliar road.
"I thought we were going to the school parking lot?"
He slides his hand up your thigh, under your dress, until it's so close to your panties he can feel your heat. "Just making a little detour, something I want to pick up real quick."
Perhaps five minutes later he pulls up to a small, expensive-looking boutique. He exits the truck before you can ask him what's going on, coming around to your side. He goes through the same—but also slightly-new—rendition of opening your door, and now also unbuckling you. He grabs you by the hips, helping you down, then taking your hand firmly in his as he walks inside.
An older woman with straight grey hair, an orange dress, and glasses calls out to the both of you, welcoming you to her shop.
You greet her back, while Nate all but ignores her.
"What are you looking for?" You ask, looking at him.
"I need to see if they even have it first."
He looks to the woman. "Where's your jewelry section?"
She points to the back of the store. "Back there and to the right. Let me know if you need help finding anything. Or need something ordered in a different size or color."
He leads you alongside him, until he finds a small display of lacy chokers.
He releases your hand, picking one up, holding it toward you.
You shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "I don't wear them for a reason. They're called chokers for a reason. They're really uncomfortable and-"
He cuts you off by tying it around your neck. "You wanted to cover the hicky I gave you. So, unless you want to put on a sweater in this heat, I don't see any other options."
You go silent, feeling like he's wrapping a collar around your throat instead.
He notices your sudden change in demeanor.
"What's wrong?"
You reach up, gently touching the fabric wrapped around your throat. "I don't know." Your tone is unsure.
He flexes his jaw. He takes a calming breath, refusing to make a scene in public. He sighs, cupping your cheek. "I just thought I'd buy you one to make you feel better. You don't have to wear it if you don't want to." He smirks, trying to come off as playful, flirty even. "I might prefer it if you don't, actually."
You blush, a small smile coming onto your lips.
He nearly releases a breath of relief.
He's fine with letting you think that him putting a collar of ownership on you was all your idea. He's fine with letting you think it's something else entirely.
You look in the small mirror set up off to the side of the jewelry selection. "I guess it feels okay."
He picks up a few more then. "Anything you'd like to look at while we're here?"
You shake your head immediately and it displeases him.
He leans down, kisses you, then whispers against your lips. "We're not leaving until you've picked out something for me to buy for you."
He kisses you again and again, then pulls away.
"You're sure?"
He nods. "I told you yesterday that I plan to spoil you fucking rotten. I like buying you presents, sweetheart. So let me."
Even if he knows it's just another form of him love-bombing you.
You gently twine your fingers between his and begin to browse.
By the time the two of you are done, Nate has spent over three-hundred dollars on you.
You'd only picked out a pair of sunglasses and a cheap pair of earrings, hoping that'd be enough for him, but he'd shopped more for you than you had for yourself.
He'd bought you two more dresses, a pair of jean cut-off shorts with a light-purple shirt to go with them, a new pair of sandals, the chokers he'd picked up when you first came in, and a few bows for your hair, along with a couple bottles of nail polish.
Just as you'd thought the two of you nearly finished, Nate had stopped, you bumping into his backside.
"Sorry," you'd said, squeezing his hand, but he'd not been paying any attention to you.
And when you followed his line-of-sight, your eyes grew wider.
No. Not lingerie.
But it was too late. He was already leading you over to their wide array of options. From simple bras and panties, to thongs, garters, chemises, but Nate only shows interest in, of course, babydolls.
He picks up a burgundy one, holding it up to you, but not looking at you, but your body. He shakes his head, then flips through the other colors before finding a soft pink one. He removes it from the rack.
"Nate-"
He quickly cuts you off. "We'll get this one. I'd like to see it on you at some point."
He takes your hand as he leads you up to the register.
You'd stood silently by his side as he swiped a shiny black credit card, an unsettling feeling in your gut, but you merely pressed yourself against his side then—willing it away—and he'd pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head as he grabbed the decorative boutique bags off the counter with one hand, taking yours in the other as he led you back out to his truck.
You're silent the entire way to the school, Nate's hand wedged firmly between your thighs, and it feels like the choker around your neck grows tighter.
Once Nate has pulled into the school parking lot, he kills the engine, turning to you.
He'd noticed your silence on the way to your destination. Had noticed your refusal to look in his direction. Instead keeping your eyes on the passing scenery outside your window.
He knows he's moving too fast, doing too much. That it's making you uncomfortable. Perhaps more than uncomfortable. And he fears that if he pushes too much harder, right now, at least, you might just jump ship. You've only been together since Thursday evening. Not even a full two days yet.
But he's good with words, always knows exactly what to say after reading someone to get desired results.
You're no different.
He turns toward you, you still looking out the window. "Hey," he says softly, quietly. "Can you look at me?"
A couple seconds pass and then you do.
He removes his hand from between your legs, instead using it to take one of your own in his. He looks down at your hands, furrowing his brows. "I'm sorry if...if maybe I did too much back there. If I made you uncomfortable. That was never my intention. I just..." He looks out the windshield. "I see everything you've gone without. Things I never have. Nice clothes, shoes..."
He looks back at you then. "Even just someone to talk to. I just..." He sighs, acting like he's at a loss for words. "The last thing I want is for you to continue on that way. So, sometimes, I like to buy you gifts. Take you to nice places on dates. Above all else, I want to make sure you're always happy.
"I want you to feel as happy as you've made me in the time we've spent together. Because I've never met anyone like you. Someone so good-natured and empathetic and affectionate. I think that's honestly what it is," he says with a small laugh, as if he's just figured something out. "I've never had that before. From anyone. So it makes me want to...to be better. It makes me so fucking happy to do things for you. To take care of you. I feel like maybe you bring out the softer side of me—the best of me. A side of me I don't ever share with anyone else. Because every time I have, they've either used it against me, or taken advantage, or mocked me for it. So, I feel like I always have to keep it under lock and key.
"And now I feel like it's only served to make you uncomfortable and-"
You interrupt him by reaching up, pressing your palm against his cheek. Now you understood it better. It wasn't just about him liking to give you gifts. No. It went far deeper than that.
This—this young man right here—is who he's always been. But he's never felt allowed to show it. The last thing you want to do is make him feel, yet again, like he needs to hide it away.
This is the side of him that you want to see.
"It did. Because for a second it felt like...like maybe you're trying to change me or..." You don't want to say it, but you're both being honest. "Or maybe control me? And after only a couple days together, that frightened me. But now? Nate, this," you say, reaching down to take his other hand in yours. "This is the one thing you can give me that I actually need. Honesty. If I understand it—you—then it won't bother me. Whatever it is."
You rub your thumb against the back of his hand. "You don't ever have to be afraid of being like this with me. Of opening up. If anything, it makes me feel closer to you. I know some girls expect men to be masculine and tough all the time, but I don't. I just want you as you are."
He gives you a loving look. He reaches across the console, wrapping his muscled arms around you, his hand cupping the back of your head. "I'm so glad I have you now."
You nod. "Me too."
He pulls back the least bit, simply looking into your eyes, until you press a kiss to his lips, and then another, and then he grabs your chin, deepening it. After a moment, you climb across the truck, into his lap, your legs bent on either side of him. He quickly reaches down, sliding the seat back. He then reaches under your dress, into the back of your panties, squeezing your ass in each of his hands and you grind down against him, gasping lightly before pressing your mouth back against his.
His cock is already straining against his jeans, desperately aching to finally fucking be inside of you, but he once again tells himself no, even if he's already grown sick and fucking tired of it.
He then reaches into your panties, his palm flat against your slick pussy.
You pull away a bit.
"I want you to cum on my hand," he whispers.
You don't even think about it before you begin to buck your hips against his palm, bringing your mouth back down to his own.
In a few minutes, the truck is shaking from the movements of your hips, trying desperately to reach your finish, pushing down against him as much as the limited space the two of you occupy allows.
Damned bucket seats, you think.
Nate wants to shove a finger or two inside of you, but knows that seal is meant to be broken by his cock and his cock alone.
Eventually, you groan in frustration. He reaches up, throwing some hair back behind your shoulder, which your dress is beginning to slip off of. "What's wrong, baby? Tell me what you need."
You whimper, grabbing his arm, humping his hand, but it's no use on its own.
"Would my leg be better, angel?"
You look up at him and nod.
First, he reaches around, pulling loose the bow tied against your back, then pulling down the top of your dress, until that lacy little bra is visible. He quickly unhooks it at the back, tossing it into the passenger seat. He then grabs your hips, repositioning you over his left thigh.
"Go on, sweetheart, cum for me."
As you begin to grind down against his thigh—a shudder wracking through your body—he leans forward, taking one of your breasts in his mouth.
"Mm, so much better," you say quietly, head thrown back.
His hand is now soaked, but he reaches into the back of your panties once again, gripping your ass, feeling your movements as you ride his leg.
It's only a few minutes later that he begins to feel a wet sensation against his thigh and he pulls back, watching you.
Your face, neck, and chest are red with a sex flush, your soft breasts as well. He firmly grips your hips. "Come on, angel. Cum for me."
You begin to move faster, grinding down against him, whimpering, sighing.
"That's it, baby, I know. I know it feels good."
You whine, nodding your head.
"You look so fucking beautiful. Cum on my leg, sweetheart. You're almost there. Come on, baby."
It only takes a few more seconds before you fall over the edge. "Ah, Nate!"
You press your lips back to his, riding out your orgasm, bucking your hips against his thigh until you're sore and can't go anymore.
And his cock is throbbing from you saying his name as you climaxed. A sound he'd hoped to hear last night, or even this morning, but all that mattered was that he now had that lovely fucking sound in his head.
You only whispering his name in your room hadn't been nearly satisfactory enough.
Once your movements have slowed, you slump against him, your breathing ragged.
He holds you, hands rubbing against your bare back. He presses a kiss to the side of your head. "You did such a good job, angel."
You lie your head on his shoulder. "I did?"
He hums in approval. "I fucking loved hearing you say my name like that."
You pull back, eyes now hooded. "Really?"
He smirks. "Of course. Why wouldn't I like that?"
You gently plant your palms against his chest.
"Did you like that?"
You look at him from under your lashes and nod shyly.
He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Good."
You glance down at his erection, then back up to him. "Should I-"
He shakes his head. "I just wanted to take care of you. I enjoy helping you cum."
Lies, fucking lies. Yes, he enjoys knowing he's the one making you orgasm, but God if he doesn't want to pull his cock out and force it down your warm wet throat right now just to get some fucking relief.
But he can't. Not here. Not like this.
You nod.
He grabs your bra and begins dressing you again.
"Right blinker."
You glance at the levers on either side of the steering wheel. You know it's one of them, but unsure which one exactly.
You look at him.
"Try the lever on the left side."
A small green arrow starts blinking on the dash.
"Now left one."
A new arrow appears.
"Hazard lights."
Once Nate has schooled you on the various buttons and levers and switches his truck has to offer—you hope can you remember all of them—he makes you identify the brake and then the gas, then the gas and then the brake over and over, before telling you to adjust your mirrors, and finally instructing you to take the vehicle out of park and do a lap around the parking lot.
You don't go over ten miles per hour as you do as instructed, his palm resting on your thigh all the while for support.
One you've reached the spot where you first started, you press down on the brakes a bit too hard—the both of you lurch forward in your seats.
Your face grows warm and you look at him, gripping the wheel tighter. "Sorry."
He chuckles and you're glad you at least got him to smile. "It's ok. We'll work on that. Go ahead and go around again."
You do as instructed.
At the end of your lessons, Nate deems that you've done rather well. He'd had you drive around the parking lot a few times, reverse, park, even parallel park, which wasn't your favorite, but he tells you that all of it will improve in time the more he has you do it.
When he finally comes around to the driver's side to unbuckle you, you can't help but smile at how...special you feel.
He'd told you before you ever even switched seats that he'd never let another person drive his truck. Ever.
You'd thanked him for the privilege, then joked that you would only put, at most, a couple dents in it.
He'd told you he might have to punish you if that happened, his hand snaking between your legs.
On the way back to Nate's house, he'd called ahead and ordered the two of you Chinese for dinner, saying he wouldn't take you to a party on an empty stomach.
You'd merely told him thank you, twining his fingers between your own, his other wrist draped over the wheel.
As the two of you sat at the dining room table in his house, eating your dinner side-by-side, he'd fed you some of his Kung Pao chicken, your throat immediately burning. He'd laughed as you gulped down half a glass of water.
You ignored his telling you water would only make it worse as you drank more.
He finished half his food, putting the rest away in the fridge before coming to sit back down beside you while you finished, his body facing yours, pressing soft kisses to your hair every few moments as you ate your rice and chicken.
And at one point, when you'd finally looked at him, the look in his eyes was nothing short of adoring.
He merely continued to stare at you, his fingers threading through your hair. "You're so beautiful."
"Thank you."
He nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before you went back to eating.
So polite, he thought. Even after giving you oral you had thanked him—thanked him—for getting you to orgasm. God, you were so different than anyone he'd ever had before.
As his eyes trailed over your body, he couldn't help but smile at knowing you're his.
Once you're full, he leads you up to his room, stripping you out of your outfit for the day, before slipping one of his t-shirts on over your head for you to relax in for the next couple of hours before he gets you ready for the party.
You seat yourself on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to decide what the two of you are going to do next, until he sits down on his lifting bench.
"Do you care if I work out for a little bit?"
You shake your head. "Go ahead," you say with a smile. Perhaps even a little eager to watch him.
He lies back, legs spread, feet planted on the floor on either side of him, then reaches up to start weight-lifting.
You lean forward, your legs crossed, elbows pressed into your thighs, head resting on your fists as you watch him with utter desire.
The way his biceps flex, his abs taught as he pushes the weight up from him, then back down, with little difficulty. You lick your lips as your eyes trail lower, somewhat wanting to see what you'd felt pressed against your heat earlier in his truck.
You know you had told him that you didn't mind him being softer, gentler, but the fact that he plays football, drives a big truck, and works out...it's all definitely a turn-on.
After a number of reps—you'd not bothered keeping count of just how many, you were otherwise occupied—Nate sits up, only glancing to you before starting with the leg lift next. And your eyes once again trail from his abdomen, all the way down to his muscled legs, dark hair littering both.
You feel warm, especially between your thighs. God, you can't believe he's all yours.
Who cares if he wants to blow large loads of money on you and dress you up occasionally if you get to watch him do this sometimes.
Once he's finished, you sit up straighter as he walks over to you. You look up at him.
"Sorry if that was a bit boring."
He knows you liked it. Can tell from how intently you had watched him, the obvious warmth of your cheeks.
You shake your head. "It wasn't," you say, your voice barely above a whisper you're so turned on.
He grips your chin, running his thumb alonger your lower lip. "No?"
You lightly shake your head.
"You liked it?" He pretends to feign mild suprise.
You nod.
He studies you for a moment. Then, he leans down toward you, forcing you to lay back on the bed.
He reaches between your legs and you gasp in surprise as he runs two fingers along your soaking wet folds. "That much, huh?"
You nod, then spread your legs wider, reaching down to the hem of his t-shirt, quickly removing it, leaving yourself completely naked before him.
A silent plea for him to do something—anything—to relieve that pulse going between your legs now.
He rubs his thumb over your clit and you smile, reching up to grip his broad shoulders.
"Did that feel good?"
You nod. "Y-yes."
He looks down at your pussy. "So wet for me, aren't you, baby?"
You spread your legs wider, the backs of your thighs now resting flat on the mattress they can't be parted any further.
And all Nate can think is how needy you fucking are. And he loves it. How easily wet you get for him, how you're already so willing to let him touch and taste and tease you. How you so easily hand over control of your body to him.
He presses a kiss to your lips for just a moment before pulling away, rubbing his thumb over your clit again.
"Mm, Nate..."
He smirks as you close your eyes, expecting him to give you yet another orgasm today.
Finally, he steps away, shutting the bathroom door behind him, the shower turning on.
Your eyes pop open and you shoot up in bed, bringing your legs back together, wondering why the hell he'd left.
Nate takes his time showering, hoping you're lying on the bed sexually frustrated from his teasing you, something he plans to do a great deal more of in-time.
He knows how powerful of a weapon sex can be, and with your experience being null...he never had that kind of upper-hand before. He's beyond elated that he does now.
He'd known Maddy had been lying when they fucked for the first time. When he had pulled out of her and there's been no blood, when she'd clearly known what the hell she was doing. But, because she'd been something warm and tight to stick his cock into, he'd resigned himself to not having a virgin like he wanted.
But you? You don't stand a chance against his sexual prowess.
Once he's showered and has also shaved, he jacks off thinking about the things he's done to you so far, but even more-so the things to come.
When he finishes, it's with cum shooting out, onto his hand, on the dark shower walls. Finally he feels some small form of release.
It's beyond fucking difficult maintaining control when it comes to being intimate with you, but he has a plan and knows he has to—must—stick to it. It's imperative that your first time with him is full of emotion and love and passion.
Because once the two of you have shared that moment?
His hooks in you will be permanently set.
Once Nate had showered, you'd not said anything about his teasing you. In reality, you kind of liked it... You knew he was being a flirt by doing it, if not also a bit of an ass, but for some reason all of that turned you on all the more.
The build-up to something else.
The two of you lied down on his bed for awhile, you naked, pressed into his side, one of your legs twined around his own while while some cheesy romance movie played—something he'd put on, thinking you would like it.
But you couldn't focus on that. Instead, all you could think about was how good this feels. This level of comfort and warmth and trust with someone to be with them like this. Naked in his bed, one of his arms around you, fingertips brushing against your hip, his other bent behind his head.
You think how lucky you are to have him. He's smart, handsome, sweet, so, so kind and giving and selfless, mature, determined...the list goes on.
He moves his hand up, his fingers working themselves against your scalp and you close your eyes, falling asleep listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart.
You're woken by Nate planting featherlight kisses against your cheeks, forehead, nose, chin, lips. Your eyes flutter open and you wrap your arms around his neck, stretching, arching your back. You smile up at him through drowsy eyes. "Hi."
You crane your neck up to kiss him and he melts into you. Literally melts.
Your softness, your graceful femininity, your love and desire for him and only him.
He pulls away for a moment, your gentle fingertips touching his lips as you look into his eyes.
"Time to get up and let me get you ready, angel."
"What if we stayed here in your bed?" You ask, your voice light and dreamy.
And fuck him if he doesn't consider it for a moment.
He shakes his head, then. He needs to get you drunk tonight.
"Sit up for me, sweetheart."
You keep your arms around his neck as he pulls you up with him, yawning as he disentangles himself from you, then takes your hand in his, leading your naked form into the bathroom as he turns on the shower.
Once he's washed you, the two of you go through the same rendition as that morning. And due to your still feeling sleepy, you let him do as he pleases as he brushes out your still-straight hair, forgoing any accessories. He then leads you back into his bedroom, seating you on his mattress as he goes through the bag he'd packed for you. He'd found a comely black dress in your closet that he'd actually been surprised you even owned, it showed so much skin. Well, a lot for you, at least.
But it'd also been shoved into the back, so it clearly was not a favorite of yours.
You raise your arms as he slips the soft black dress over your naked form. He admires it on you for a moment—it's a mini dress, with a plunging neckline, the sides cut out, leaving your sides bare, but against your back is a large bow.
He doesn't consider putting a choker back on you, wanting anyone who looks at you tonight to see the mark he'd put on your body, branding you as his property.
He then kneels down, slipping a black pair of pumps onto your feet which are covered in a pleasant floral pattern, small bows on each.
He then stands, heading over to his closet and throwing on a t-shirt and jeans, and a pair of clean socks and tennis shoes, shrugging on a zip-up hoodie before offering you his hand.
A small smile plays on Nate's lips the entire way over to the party. This afternoon had been so perfect. You naked in his bed, asleep in his arms, then sitting there contently—silently—while he readied you, dressing you up as he pleased. And now here you sit in the passenger side, entertaining yourself with his right hand resting in your lap, holding one of your own while your other traces idle shapes along his veins and skin.
As he slows for a traffic light, he glances at you, how beautiful you look. And all he can think is how much he loves you.
"Are you happy, baby?"
You look up at him, smile, then nod. "Yes."
The light turns green and he looks back to the road before the both of you.
Once Nate has parked, you feel your pulse rising under your skin. Flashing lights, and loud, thumping music come from the two-story house before you, numerous people coming in and out, milling around outside, drinks in-hand.
Once Nate has come around and unbuckled you, you stay seated. "There's a lot of people here."
He just looks at you, waiting for you to continue. "I...I get anxious in crowds."
He takes your hand in his, helping you down. "Just stay close to me, then, sweetheart."
You twine your fingers securely between his, your other arm coming up to wrap around his own and you press your body as close as you can into his side as you enter the strange domicile you've never been to before.
And Nate eats it up—you clinging to him so closely, afraid of being parted from his side—and he feels both a sense of satisfaction, as well as jealousy, if not also possessiveness, as young men's eyes trail along your young body. All of them want what they'll never have. You belong to him now.
He glances down at you and you're already looking up at him, completely oblivious to the men practically lapping at you with their tongues.
He gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head, then leads you further into the house, the music growing so loud you can feel the bass in your chest, intermixing with the wild beat of your heart.
Nate's eyes dart this way and that, looking for possible familiar faces—not because he wants to spend any amount of time with anyone but you tonight—but because he wants the word to spread like wildfire that you're already wrapped around his finger already. Completely devoted to him.
When he spots the kitchen, he leads you in that direction, honing in on the plethora of alcoholic drinks sitting out on the counter.
He releases your hand for a moment, your body pressing impossibly closer to his own, as he looks over the bottles, searching for something good to start you out with. Something sweet and sugary to get you drunk on before he has you start downing hard liquor to keep you that way for the rest of the night.
His goal is to get you drunk enough that you black out and forget what he has planned this evening.
He spots a bottle of sparkling cider and picks it up, pouring some into a solo cup, placing it in your small delicate hands.
"I-I don't drink!" You practially have to scream at him over the music.
His brows furrow, acting like he has no idea what you've said. He leans down, placing his ear close to those pretty lips that he'd put some pink lipgloss on before leaving.
"I don't drink, Nate."
He places his lips against your ear, his hand gripping your hip in silent encouragement. "Just try it, you might like it."
You look at him for a moment, then finally take a sip. And your eyes widen in interest before taking another one. He bites back a satisfied smirk.
"Do you like it?"
You nod your head fervently and he can't help but think how utterly fucking adorable you look.
He takes your cup, filling it nearly to the brim with the orange substance.
He, himself, grabs a bottle of Budweiser before leading you further into the house, seating himself on a couch before pulling you into his lap, one of his hands coming to rest firmly between your legs under your dress.
He takes a sip of his beer, then watches as you take another sip and then another from your cup. He reaches up, tipping it forward, forcing you to down a third of it in one go. Finally, he drops his hand, picking up his beer again and laughs playfully when you look at him, shaking your head with a smile.
By the time you've reached the bottom of your cup, you're already drunk. Your head feels light, like it's spinning. You lean back against Nate, resting your head on his shoulder.
"Did you finish it?"
You merely nod, a giggle escaping your lips.
"Want me to get you another one?"
You sit up straighter, then turn to look at him and burst out laughing.
He can't keep himself from smiling at you.
"Is that a yes?"
You nod, scrunching your nose up adorably before throwing your arms around his neck, pressing a firm wet kiss to his cheek, then kissing his lips. He notes that you taste pleasantly of apples.
You stumble alongside Nate as he pulls you into the kitchen, filling your cup again and you don't notice, as you go to take a sip, that he once again puts his index finger under the base, holding it in-place until half the cup is drained.
He glances behind you, seeing Maddy across the room, wearing some revealing purple dress that nearly shows her ass, Kat at her side.
He watches them as they watch you, Maddy leaning over to Kat, saying something to her, which he can't quite make out.
He thinks, if he's read her lips correctly, she said 'what the fuck did he do to her?'.
He looks down at you, cupping one of your cheeks in his hand. "Do you want to dance?"
"What?" You giggle again, hugging him affectionately.
When you pull away he repeats himself.
"Do you?" You ask, your words slurred.
He doesn't answer before grabbing your hand, leading you into the middle of the living room, pulling your body against his. He grabs your hips, shaking them this way then that, one of your arms slung over his shoulder, the other occasionally lifting your drink to your lips.
He then sees Cassie, who's been watching the two of you for God knows how long, so he leans down, pressing a long, passionate kiss to your lips, adding in plenty of tongue.
You moan against him and he has half-a-mind to reach into your panties, wondering if all the alcohol has gone where he hopes it has.
He refrains. He won't humiliate or disrespect you like that. Not in front of a crowd.
He moves his lips down to your neck and you throw your head back. He moves one of his hands under the cut-out side of your dress, under your panties beneath, gripping one of your ass cheeks. The other comes up to caress the back of your head as he begins kissing your neck, sucking on that purple bruise, keeping it firmly in-place.
He licks your neck when he sees Cassie finally walk away, chugging her beer.
Nate pulls back, looking down at you.
You smile up at him. "I feel so-" you laugh. "So good." you giggle a few times. "I want you so bad."
He raises a brow. "Is that so?"
"Mhm." You reply, kissing him.
He puts his lips right up against your ear. "I bet if I checked them, your panties are fucking soaked right now. Aren't they?"
He feels you nod and blood fills his cock.
"You wet for me, baby?"
You nod again. "Yes," you say breathily.
His fingers tangle in the hair at the back of your head, gently yanking your head back, and he devours your neck. He wedges one of his legs between your thighs, moving his lips back to your ear. "There you go, angel. Take what you need."
You grind against him and whimper.
He presses his lips against your own, teasing you with his tongue.
Your kissing grows sloppy, uncoordinated, your hips bucking randomly against him.
He pulls away and you pout. He pulls you back into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniels before holding it against your lips. "Try this one, sweetheart."
You don't argue, you just drink, the whiskey dripping down between your breasts, which he quickly cleans with his tongue. You giggle. "Stop it," you say between laughs.
He holds the bottle to your lips again and doesn't stop until you've drunk more than a sufficient amount.
You tug against his shirt then and he gives you his ear. "I have to-" You laugh. "Have to potty."
He holds you against his side as he goes in search of the bathroom, hoping you can hold it and that you haven't broken that tab just yet.
He finally finds it at the end of a hall. He knocks once, twice, then opens the door, finding it empty.
You stumble inside.
"Can you go on your own?" He does not fucking want to have to wipe you, but will look after you if that's what needs done.
You nod your head, slamming the door in his face.
He leans back against a wall, waiting for you. And rolls his eyes when Cassie comes to rest back against the wall opposite him.
She takes a swig of her beer—because of course she's drinking beer—at least you like the sweet stuff, which he thinks certainly fitting for you—before crossing her arms over her ample chest.
He only gives her a bored glance before leaning his head back, taking a drink of his Budweiser.
"What does she have that I don't?"
"Jesus fucking Christ," he mutters while staring up at the ceiling before looking at her. "Are you serious right now?"
She shrugs dramatically, her eyes widening. "You never had any interest in her before. Didn't you call her 'fucking boring' one time?"
He shakes his head. "Doesn't fucking matter what I said before, Cassie. I'm with her now. End of story."
She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "She's not even your fucking type!"
He laughs, mockingly. He licks his lips, glancing away, then back to her. "You have no idea what my type even is."
"I thought it was me..." She mumbles.
He raises a brow. "Are you fucking slow or something? Alright, fine. You want to know what she has that you don't?
She nods her head dramatically. "Yeah, I do. Because it sure as hell isn't looks, or-"
His fuse is near-gone by now. "She came to me a fucking virgin, for one. I sure as shit couldn't have said the same for you."
She flinches.
"Do you know how humiliating it was to be with you? The way you acted sometimes-" He rubs his thumb against his brow, lowering that hand back down to his side. "You were nothing more than a greedy whore looking for attention, and that still hasn't changed even now. It's why you're trying to make a scene in the middle of a party in front of all our peers. I mean," he holds out his hands, palms face-up before her. "What did you really hope to accomplish with this?" He relaxes one of his arms back down to his side again, the other holding his beer to his lips for a quick drink.
"Look at the fucking way you're dressed for one. You might as well have walked in here naked-"
"Look at the way she's dressed!"
"I know exactly what she's wearing because I put it on her!"
Hurt flashes across her features, remembering when he had once done that for her.
"So, is that it, then, you just needed a new doll to play with?"
He leans back, lightly banging the back of his head against the wall. "You don't fucking get it."
"Then explain it to me, since I'm so ignorant."
He looks at her again. "She's everything I've ever wanted. You can't hope to hold a fucking candle to her. You, Cassie, you were just a toy for me to fuck when I had nothing better to do. You're the girl you brag to your buddies about making another notch in your belt for. She's the girl you marry and provide a life for."
Her lip trembles.
He shakes his head. "Even then, I don't brag about you because I'm fucking ashamed I was ever even with you. I'm probably lucky I didn't catch something, since half the guys around here have rode you like a goddamn Greyhound."
She explodes then. "Fuck you, Nate! I gave you fucking everything! I bent over backwards for you—to be perfect for you. I blew up my life for you! I thought we were in love and that...that we'd have forever together and...so what? What is it, then? Do you love her now?"
He throws his bottle at the wall, no more than half a foot from her head, causing her to jump in fear as it shatters, alcohol spraying on her. "Yes, Cassie, I fucking love her!"
Right as he screams it in her face, you open the bathroom door, hearing every word.
Both their heads jerk in your direction and you glance from Cassie to Nate, back to Cassie, before finally settling on Nate again. You let out a quiet sob. "I can't get them back on, I keep falling over."
He looks down, and sees your panties around your ankles. He suddenly softens then. "Oh, baby, c'mere."
He kneels down, grabbing your hand and placing it firmly on his shoulder. "Lift your leg for me sweetheart."
You do, head spinning as he slips one foot free. "Now the other side, angel."
Cassie watches, heart breaking at how gentle he is with you. The sweet names he calls you—something he'd never done for her. She was, at the most, Cass.
Finally, he stands, pocketing your lacy black panties.
You lean back against the wall to steady yourself, and he cups both of your cheeks in his hands and all she can do is stare at the two of you. At the look in his eyes—seeing that it's true; they're filled with love and devotion and care.
"Did you go?" He asks, his tone gentle, but concerned.
You nod.
He brushes a thumb over your lips. "Did you wipe, sweetheart?"
You nod again.
He presses a firm, yet soft kiss to your forehead, then your lips, before wrapping one of his arms around you, holding you close to his side, not sparing Cassie another glance as he tells you "Let's go get you another drink."
Cassie slams the bathroom door behind her, unable to think of anything else but how, if that had been her, he wouldn't have waited for her, wouldn't have helped, or tended to her. Would've most likely started a fight with her over how she was embarrassing him. How she was being a trashy slut.
What the fuck was so different about you?
Once Nate has gotten you so drunk that you can't even stand up on your own, he has to carry you back to his truck bridal-style. His jacket is draped over you to keep you warm, your face pressed against his neck while one of your hands grips his t-shirt for dear life.
He quickly unlocks the truck, his keys held firmly in one of his hands underneath you, and he lowers you into your seat, carefully buckling you in. He gently shuts the door, coming around to the driver's side. Once he's buckled in as well, he locks both doors, making sure you don't do something stupid in your stupor, like try and open it.
You lean your head back against the seat, holding his jacket over you.
"So dizzy..."
He turns the heat on. "Just close your eyes, baby. We'll be home soon."
You do, wishing the world would just slow down.
Once Nate has gotten you home, he carries you inside, and when he sets you down in the foyer, you slam back against the wall, back to giggling again.
He tries to shoosh you, holding a finger up to your lips, but you gently pull it down, trying to instead shove it under your dress.
He shakes his head. "Are you going to be a naughty girl tonight, then?"
You shrug, but barely, your limbs not entirely cooperating.
He leans down, pressing his lips to yours and you giggle yet again and his hand grips one of your inner-thighs.
He pulls back a little, glancing down the hall, then to you. "Do you want to go swimming?"
You nod enthusiatically, then immediately regret it as you press your forehead against his chest, willing the dizziness away. "Nooooo..."
"So you do or don't?"
"Swim mmm."
He takes that as a yes.
He leads you that way, you nearly falling on your ass halfway down the hall, but he drags you along, despite your stumbling. He grabs a couple beers from the fridge, intending on giving one to you outside.
Once you're in the backyard, he picks you up, slinging you over his shoulder. "Oooh noooo."
"Oh yes," he replies.
Your head slumps, bobbing with every step he takes, until he finally sets you down on a pool chair.
He hands a bottle of beer to you and you can't quite figure out the twist top, so he takes it from you, opening it, then handing it back. He watches in satisfaction as you take a long drink, licking your pretty pink lips.
He kneels down, not even buzzed and reaches his hand between your legs.
You hum with pleasure, closing your eyes.
"Look at me, sweetheart."
Your eyes pop open.
"Do you want to go skinny dipping?"
You nod.
He helps you out of your heels and then your dress, tossing the latter onto the chair you'd previously occupied.
He grips the back of his shirt, pulling it off, then toes off his shoes and socks before he reaches down, unbuckling his belt, and unzipping and unbuttoning his jeans before he pulls them, along with his briefs, off in one motion. You barely get a chance to look over his naked form before he walks the both of you over to the pool. He seats you on the side, your legs dangling in the warm water as he slips in.
He grips your hips, easing you in as well, wrapping your legs around his waist, arms around his neck, and his own arms around you to ensure you don't drown.
You gently lie your cheek against his shoulder, the only sounds to fill the night being the lapping of water, crickets and frogs, and the pool filter humming under the water.
"I love you," he whispers, knowing you won't remember any of this.
"Mmm," is all the reply you can manage, your body shaking with a small laugh.
"You're all mine. Every part of you."
You stay silent, enjoying the bouyant feeling of weightlessness and the warmth of him.
"Can you tell me that, angel? That you belong to me?"
"I..." you giggle. "I belong to youuu."
He hums his approval.
"I'm going to take your virginity tomorrow," he says, tone relaxed.
"Okaaay."
He smirks. You have no idea what he's even saying.
"And when I do, you're mine. Forever."
You only wrap your arms tighter around his neck. "Juuust get the home-" you snicker. "Homework done, 'kay?"
He doesn't say anything as he wades the two of you arond the pool. His studious little angel.
You yawn and he knows it's time to get out then.
You take his hand as the two of you exit the pool. Nate grabs some towels out of a nearby bin, but you laugh when he comes to stand in front of you. He fills with seething fucking rage when he sees that you're looking at his cock when you do it.
"What's so funny?" He asks, hands in fists at his sides.
"I've n-never seen one. In-" You cackle. "real life. It's so-"
If you're about to insult him, he knows he'll snap and do something he'll later regret.
"So preeetty."
All the tension releases from his body. Not quite what he'd been expecting, but he'll take it.
You look up to him with a drunken smile. "I l-like it."
He smirks. "Do you want to touch my cock, sweetheart?"
You nod.
He takes one of your hands in his, wrapping it around his member, which quickly grows harder in your grip.
"Feels funny."
"How?"
"Soft. Like vel-Velveeta."
He knows you mean velvet.
Your strokes are sloppy, unsure. He knows that you have no idea what the fuck you're doing, but it only turns him on all the more.
Just as he begins to consider asking you to get on your knees, he looks toward the house and immediately loses his erection when he sees his dad watching the both of you.
You frown. "What...w-what happened?"
You look up to him.
"You're exhausted. Time for bed."
You hang your head as he wraps your naked body in a towel. "Noooo..."
"Yes, c'mon," he says, taking your hand, grabbing your clothes and his in the other, slipping his shoes back on, handing you yours.
Once the two of you have taken a shower—Nate not wanting his sheets to stink like chlorine—he puts you to bed, lying down beside you, still naked.
Before you fall off to sleep, however, he reaches over, grabbing your phone from the nightstand.
He hopes to God you're not too drunken to answer his next question. "What's the pin for your phone?"
It takes a few tries and a lot of laughing, but you finally give him the four-digit code, which he immediately commits to memory.
And then you drift off to sleep, once again firmly against his chest, feeling safe and happy.
Meanwhile, Nate goes through every single app on your device. He's glad to see you have no social media, minus Pinterest and Letterboxd accounts, neither of which have any messages on them. He browses through your emails, finding nothing of interest.
He next checks your gallery, searching for nudes he's sure he won't find, even checking for hidden folders.
He finds naught.
Finally, after browsing your texts—you only having threads with him, your dad—which you haven't texted with in hardly three weeks, and Lexi—who you left on read Friday when she texted you asking 'what the hell is going on with you and Nate?'—he briefly considers blocking her number, but knows that decision, that action, needs to come from you—he installs an app for tracking your location, syncs it to the very same app on his own phone, and then hides it.
He makes it so that, unless you go into your settings looking through your app list, you'll never find it.
He tells himself that he's only doing it to keep you safe. But he also knows that if he ever catches you with someone else, he'll fucking kill him.
You wake before dawn with an extreme feeling of nausea. You practically jump out of bed—head pounding—and race to the toilet, barely making it as you kneel before it, vomiting up the contents of your stomach.
Nate wakes as well, sitting up, heading toward the bathroom in a panic to take care of you, before remembering that he's naked. He grabs a pair of briefs from the floor, sitting on his bench press as he pulls them on. He comes into the bathroom then, kneeling beside you and pulling your hair out of your way as you continue to get sick.
Once your stomach has calmed, you close the lid, flushing, then lying your head down. "Oh God."
He smirks, running his hand along your naked back. "Hangover?"
"Don't ever, ever, ever let me drink again."
He stands, grabbing a clean washcloth and running it under some cool water before wringing it out and holding it against your forehead.
You merely hum your appreciation.
"I feel so horrible."
"It usually goes down a lot easier than when it comes back up."
You groan.
He presses a kiss to your hair. "Are you cold or hot?"
"Both. My body is freezing."
He stands, grabbing a spare blanket from the foot of his bed, then returning to the bathroom, wrapping you up in it.
"Thank you," you mumble.
And then the feeling hits you again, so you throw the toilet lid open and vomit once more.
It's almost an hour later before you feel confident enough that, if you go back to bed, you won't get sick all over it. Nate puts a trash can on your side anyway.
He'd gone down and gotten you water, a bottle of Gatorade, and some crackers before coming back up and setting them on the table on your side of the bed.
He likes that you now have a side.
While you lie there, facing away from him and instead toward the side that the trash can is on, he also lays on his side, rubbing your back.
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
"For?"
"Embarrassing you, probably."
"What do you mean?" He asks.
"I don't remember most of it."
His hand stills, but only for a moment. So it worked, he thinks, a sick sense of satisfaction filling him.
"What's the last thing you do?"
You close your eyes. "It's like there's holes in my memory. I remember dancing. I think I went pee. I think...I think I went pee and Cassie was in the bathroom with me?" You pause for a moment and sigh. "I think you carried me to your truck. Did we swim?"
A muscle in his jaw feathers. "Just for a little bit. Then we came up and watched a movie until you fell asleep on my chest."
You hum in response. "Was it The Princess Bride? I think I remember."
He's glad you do, because he sure as hell doesn't, since it never happened. "It was."
"Oh."
You're quiet for a moment, then, "Have you ever been drunk?"
He nods. "A few times. I try not to make a habit of it."
You moan. "That's smart. Smarter than me."
He chuckles. "First time for everything. Including get wasted. Honestly, it's more on me than it is you. You've never drank before and don't know your own limits. I should've cut you off a lot earlier."
You press your face into the soft pillow under your head. "That's a lifetime achievement I could've lived without. But it's not your fault."
You lie your cheek against the pillow then. "How long until I feel better?"
He shrugs. "A few hours, better part of a day. Just depends how long it takes to work its way out of your system."
You take a sip of your Gatorade and chew on a cracker. Once you've swallowed you lie back down.
"Just close your eyes and try and get some sleep, angel."
You nod against the pillow. "Goodnight."
He presses a kiss to the back of your head, curling his body around yours, pulling you back against him. "Goodnight," he replies, even if it's now morning.
#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader)#nate jacobs x y/n#nate jacobs x you#nate jacobs x reader#nate jacobs imagine#euphoria x reader#euphoria x you#i'm so mean to cassie i'm so sorry lmao#i prommy i don't hate her#she's just another one of nate's victims & someone who deserves sm better than the hand she was dealt#lana really went off with 'this is what makes us girls' huh
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Anyways I'm so fucking relieved that Porter was evil actually. Bc I was actually so damn mad that he got to be right about Gorgug. Like there's just something insidious about the idea of a teacher who comes in and says they know more about what your path should be. And they push and push and keep telling you that they're only hurting you bc they know you can do more. And it doesn't matter if you feel that way or even if you want to do more, bc they've decided they know the right path for you. And it's only ever your life and your sanity on the line; they're risking nothing. So I was so fucking mad when Gorgug succeeded at the barbificer thing and Porter got to be all 'see? I was only pushing you bc I believed in you' bc you better believe if Gorgug hadn't managed it, the blame would've been on him not Porter....
Anyways with the hindsight that Porter is basically the big bad, it suddenly becomes a question of if Porter even wanted Gorgug to succeed. Like they had to know the Bad Kids were the biggest threat to their plan, so like. Undermining them in whatever way was possible would be smart. And so instead of Porter getting to be Right about how to treat Gorgug, it's like. Was he sabotaging him? Was he trying to make Gorgug fail? And it becomes more that Gorgug succeeded in spite of Porter's bullshit.
#fantasy high junior year#fantasy high spoilers#dimension 20#anyways can you tell that i. had a lot of academic pressure put on me in high school that i didnt want?#yeah. shoutout to my senior year teacher that talked my parents into grounding me bc i had a c in her class#that was bullshit and Porters treatment of Gorgug was bullshit#and nobody can take the headcanon that porter didnt ever think gorgug would succeed away from me#i wont say that i saw this twist coming. but i will say that it restored so much of my trust in brennan lmao#like i dont like complaining about shows online. and especially not when they're not even finished#but that shit was fucking haunting me it made me so mad
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GLITCH “we were supposed to be just friends.” carl grimes x fem!reader
tags: a little bit of angst but mostly fluff, has mentions of death, lowercase intended!!
a/n: kinda based on glitch by taylor swift. repost of first fic bc im suupppeerr busy rn and idk if ill get anything out for a bit!!
it was never supposed to end up like this. oh no, not even remotely close. when you first arrived to alexandria, with your jagged cuts and discolored bruises scattered across your body, majority of your hope was lost. all of the important people in your life seemed to just fade away, and you couldn’t do anything about it.
you would spend your days sat beneath a tree, idling away the hours reading your beloved comics. you enjoyed the isolation, it provided you with a slight sense of comfort. that was the case until one particular day. you made your way over to your special spot, freezing in your tracks when you saw him. carl grimes.
he was sitting with his back against your tree. you never really talked to the boy, only spoken to each other once, which was when you first arrived. he was friendly and seemed like a nice kid, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to talk to anyone. the fear of getting attached and losing them in the end made you shudder every time you thought of it.
you quietly sat down next to him, not uttering a single word. he looked up from his own comic, shooting you a smile along with a “hey.”
it became a daily occurrence, sitting down next to whoever came first. you two started to talk more, bonding over your love for comics and random things you had in common. you started to open up, a stark contrast to how you normally behaved, and over time a meaningful attachment to each other blossomed.
carl knew and noticed everything about you, from your favorite color down to how your nose lightly scrunched when you felt the slightest bit of discomfort. he brought out a side of you that you thought was gone long ago. he’d changed you for the better, and you were extremely grateful.
at some point however, you started to feel a certain way around carl. you tried to push it away, told yourself you were just being silly. but you knew deep down how you really felt. you had feelings for the pretty boy. hell, you were practically in love.
you told yourself he would never reciprocate the feelings, and tried to forget about it, but it was oh so hard when his arm would brush over yours while walking, when he looked at you with his eyes that resembled the blue flames of a restless fire.
“oh come on! it was one time.” you say, giggling at carl’s joke while walking alongside him. “sure, we’re just gonna forget about all the other times you fell on your face because you don’t look where you’re going.” he says playfully, nudging your shoulder while smiling.
you felt your heart skip a beat, and tried to hide your flustered state. there was a short silence between you two before carl’s footsteps came to a stop. you look at him, eyebrows furrowing with confusion.
“what’s up?” “i- there’s something i haven’t told you.” he says, lowering the volume of his voice. “which is..?” you say, slightly fidgeting with your hands in anxiety, thinking of all the possibilities of what could come out of his mouth.
could it be he wanted to stop hanging out? he wanted space? surely you did something to upset him. negative thoughts ran through your mind, you spacing out in the process. “i like you.” he blurts out, instantly breaking your trance. “huh?” “i said i like you. i really like you.”
it felt as if you couldn’t breathe, the words not coming out of your mouth. you were simply taken aback. carl grimes likes you? he must be joking. “i- is this a joke? it must be. you’re really funny carl, seriously best joke of the ye-”
he cuts you off by smashing his soft lips against your mildly chapped ones. he cups your face with his cold hands, the feeling of his lips upon yours felt like a dream. it didn’t feel real, as if it were a glitch.
your lips were locked on each others for what seemed like ages before you two had to pull away to take a breath. carl took your hand in his, rubbing circles onto your palm as you two made eye contact. “believe me now?” he says, smiling as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “hmm, not quite. think i need a round two.” “smart girl.” he says before leaning in once again.
#carl grimes#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes x y/n#the walking dead#carl grimes x fem!reader#twd#twd x reader#carl grimes angst#carl grimes fluff#carl grimes imagines#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes smut#carl grimes oneshot#the walking dead oneshot#the walking dead imagines#chandler riggs
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Hi! I always love the way you ellaborate things in detail. Can you also describe how lee know is like when he get jealous? Will he get extremely possesive when it comes to his lover?
thank you so much for your kind words!!! ❤️ that means the world to me.
here's the thing about lee know: i think deeeep down, he has a need for his freedom. he UNDERSTANDS freedom and he values freedom. but in relationships, he just can't fucking do it (at it's probably hell for him).
i say this because:
#1 his moon in sag. it's all about freedom and being able to be adventurous and explore. it's tied to who he is emotionally. at his core, he understands this and HE needs this. he needs his freedoms, and he doesn't alwayssss want to feel like he's being tied down. but that doesn't necessarily mean that's what he wants for you... even if he does understand HOW you could be like that, it doesn't mean he's okay with it.
#2 his mars in virgo. he knows how to be direct and get shit done. he is going to be practical in the way that he does things. so it's not like he's lost in his head about all of this. he is fully aware of what he's doing. what is he doing exactly? well.....
his sun, mercury, AND venus in scorpio. we first have to look at the characteristics of scorp. obviously known to be deep and emotional. they have desires that they often lock away, but can open up for the right person. and in the end, that's all they want. someone who can be there to UNDERSTAND them. but since scorpio knows what it's like to feel so deeply, it can lead them to hide things for others. it can also lead them to manipulate others. they will want to know every little thing about you. and you can bet your ass they will use that to their advantage. they know how you'll react, and that makes it 10x better.... and the fact that they "know you so well" makes them extremely possessive of you. to the point that they can definitely become jealous if they think you are getting too close to anyone else.
sun: it's gonna shine through in his personality. at least he doesn't outright hide it... well, most of it, at least. you just don't know how deep it goes. but he will very much make it known in everyday life that he wants you to only be his by his everyday actions.
mercury: he will tell you exactly what you want to hear (when he wants you to do something) OR he will tell you something that he knows will completely devastate you (to basically use it against you to do what he wants). and the thing is, he may not even be cognizant in the fact that he's doing this. it's just inherent.
venus: he's a lovesick lover boy who can get possessive and obsessive under the right corcumstances. if he knows the most intimate parts of you, he can feel like he has some sort of "claim" to you. he literally feeds into these delusions bc deep down, scorpios really want that deeeeep emotional connection, but they dont necessarily feel comfortable offerring up their own selves... that's why they need you to fulfil it.
long story short, in relationships, lee know is very much possessive in relationships. but it is inherent in him. he quite literally doesn't know any other way. BUT there is conflict with his moon, so it does try to put it at a hault sometimes and keep him in check. but at the end of the day, actions beat out intentions.
"you are not going there dressed like that baby. wear it for me instead."
"i didn't think you'd be the type to want to do that... i mean, i didn't think you'd be into that scene."
"you're meant for me. only me. do you understand that?"
"see baby, that's why you need to stay with me. nothing bad will happen to you as long as i'm around, okay?"
#lee know skz#lee know angst#lee know x you#lee know imagines#lee know x reader#lee know#skz minho#skz imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#stray kids angst#skz astrology#skz x reader#lee minho angst#lee minho x reader
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Comfort
tags: amon x gn! reader (as far as i know), hurt/comfort kinda, implications of the mcs parents death, implications of amons parents death
note: not beta read, drabble i wrote last night bc i could sleep, probably ooc but oh well. mc is kind of just based on my own feelings so. wrote this bc amons my babygirl, posting bc there should be more for him
you were currently staying in the avisos palace for the next few days, courtesy to bael hoping to lure beelzebub back once again. despite being used as bait, bael was at least kind enough to give you your own room to stay in, though now it wasnt exactly being used.
you dont know what exactly it was, but you couldn't get your brain to shut off so you could rest. your brain was just too full of thoughts that you usually tried to suppress, but as much as you wish they'd dissappear they never seem to. instead deciding to haunt you late at night when there's nothing you can do to push them away.
after getting tired of your restlessness you decided to take a walk through the empty halls of the palace, hoping this would do to clear your mind so you could rest.
unfortunately your thoughts only seemed to echo in time with your footsteps, bouncing off the walls of your brain until it was too much to hold together anymore.
quietly you sat down by one of the windows, cracking it slightly to let the cool air hit your face that felt like it was burning up.
truly you didnt know why you were crying now of all times, you were in hell where tons of devils loved you, but you couldn't help but still feel lonely.
a hard painful lump was in your throat while you tried your best to keep quiet with your sobs and sniffles, not wanting to wake anyone. you wouldn't know how to explain why you're crying, there wasnt really a true reason, sometimes you just need it.
despite your attempts to keep quiet, the sound of foot steps came through the hall to the room you were in.
you quickly tried to wipe your face to hide any traces but there wasnt really a need as a blonde haired demon carefully entered the room.
"oh, its you... you're crying" amon thought aloud almost curiously. he had been on night patrol through the palace, making sure no one had snuck inside or if beelzebub had returned yet.
amon came closer to you by the window, a look of concern on his face. "is something wrong? are you hurt?" he asked, looking over you for any signs of physical harm.
you shook your head a bit embarrassed, though there was no hint of judgment in his eyes. "no im okay i was just having a hard time sleeping and all i guess... i dont even know why im crying its just... stuff from when i was younger and i just..." you trailed off, the painful lump in your throat and watery eyes returning.
you didn't need to finish your sentence though, amon had been told about your past already and he can understand without words how pain from years ago can still hurt just as deeply, how you can feel just as lonely.
"oh... I can keep you company if youd like" amon offered, sitting beside you and offering to hold you.
with a hesitant nod, you let amon pull you close to his chest, placing you on his lap and holding you tightly in his arms, feeling the tears continue to well up in your tired eyes despite the feeling of comfort he gave.
amon didnt let go or push you away, only holding you tighter and letting you cry into his chest as you needed.
he silently understood the way you felt, understanding the need to release pressure on these old feelings sometimes, and even though he cant make the lonely feeling dissappear, he promises to keep you company through them.
#what in hell is bad#whb#what in “hell” is bad?#prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#whb amon#whb x reader#whb x mc#what in hell is bad amon#amon x reader#amon whb#whb mc
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Sorry if you've received this like 20 times (got the circle of doom) - if you're accepting nsfw anons, how'd the youngvets boys first time go down? ;)
haha dw, tumblr is a lil shit sometimes!
doing a lil minimal research, during their time in africa (i'm still going back and forth with what base theyre at but for this lets go with air base 201) their housing would prob be these little things. it almost feels too easy to make them roommates lol, so i'm going w/ gale being with blakely and bucky being with demarco.
they're obv pretty glued at the hip at this point even when they've only kissed and haven't slept together yet. spend a lot of time in the other one's CHU when they're able to but. they don't really know blakely or demarco very well yet so they try to be discreet about What's Really Going On.
then maybe one day demarco comes back from the gym sooner than they thought he would. doesn't like- walk in on them making out or something but. they're close enough that it's obvious they aren't just close talking as buddies. it's okay though bc longer hc for another time short, demarco is obv a chill dude. even if he makes em both wanna die a little when he starts telling them every waking time he's going to be out of the CHU for a little lmfao. comes up to bucky when they're leaving dinner like hey (: i'm gonna go to the gym (: for an hour and fifteen minutes and 30 seconds (: takes me ten minutes to walk there (: probably gonna take it slower walking back. so add 15 (: smacks his shoulder when he's going all red faced.
anddd at long last since they're less jumpy about everything they do get a lil more heated than normal when they're making out, one thing leads to another etc etc. bucky has been with ppl across genders but gale hasn't so i think he very much takes the lead- and tops that first time + the first couple times after. lovesss seeing gale all flushed and squirmy under him, likes being able to manhandle him a little to get his leg around his hip etc etc.
but my larger hc for this au is that bucky is a bottom sooo we gotta get there somehow LOL. i think that while gale for sure doesn't *dislike* bucky fucking him silly (at all!)- he does kinda have a post-sex realization one night that he thinks he'd 'get more out of it' or whatever if he was on top. doesn't mind being out of control when it comes to bucky, but *in general* prefers being the one in control. just the way he's wired. for a lot of reasons.
and god he's soo nervous bringing it up to bucky. thinks he's not gonna be into it and reject him and then they're never gonna sleep together again and everything is gonna get weird. ends up getting so nervous he just blurts it out one night when they're gettin' hot and heavy with the making out. face all red and won't look at bucky when he's waiting for his response.
butttt he can rest assured knowing he was all worried for nothing bc bucky is veryyyy down. was fine "taking over" bc he was the more experienced one and thought that's just what gale wanted but. more than happy to get fucked into next week by his boy and that big pretty dick of his :p
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Cowboy Sweetness
Fandom: Helluva Boss
Pairing: Striker x Reader
Type: Headcanons | Fluff
C/TW: none other than the fact that it's kind of long cuz I love Soft and Fluffy Striker so much <3
In which Striker is soft with Reader ♥︎
omg my baby girl Striker ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა thank you for the request @/newleaf92 (tag bc of an oopsie) REPOST BC LAST ONE GOT SHADOWBANNED
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Striker is not a soft guy, that's just a fact. He's ruthless, cruel, arrogant, prideful, and rough. And he intends to stay that way-not that he thought he could be anything else. Until you came along.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Things were understandably slow at the beginning of your relationship. These feelings and this type of relationship was very new to him. On top of that, he cared about you a lot so he was determined not to fuck up at some point. But even at the beginning, when he seemed repulsed by affectionate acts and words, he was still soft. He was aware of this because again, he cared about you a lot and knew he didn't wanna fuck up-or "fumble it" as some people nowadays say. So he tried to show subtly that he cares about you as his partner.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Which was by holding doors open for you, cleaning himself up a bit before visiting you, and when walking with you his tail would be rounding you from behind-a subtle way to keep you close and protected. He is a wanted man after all.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He still does those things even now, as long as you've been together by now and as more comfortable he is being affectionate and sweet with you-but theirs so much more now.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ When he teaches you to ride Bombproof, if anyones near and you're wearing something with a skirt, he'll take off his hat to cover your behind as you mound or get off Bombproof. And the entire time he's teaching you, he's got a hand on both you and the horse. Gotta keep ya steady and that won't be possible unless Bombproof is also steady. Afterwards, only if you're alone, he' help you off Bombproof. He actually feels quite prideful of it. Look at him, helping his partner off Bombproof with his hands firmly on your waist. If you thank him with a kiss on the cheek he's gonna be smirking all proudly.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Loves it when you lay on his chest. You could be snuggled up on the couch or the bed, doesn't matter, as long as you're both comfy he needs you to be laying your head on his chest. It makes him feel like he's your protector and that you need him. Both is true.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He takes care of ya when you're sick. Will sleep on the couch until you're 100% better. He can't risk getting sick due to his job so unfortunately you'll be sleeping apart for several days. It bothers him more than he'd ever admit. He didn't know when it happened but at some point he grew used to sleeping with you next to him every night and kind of relies on it to sleep good.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Which takes us to when he's out on a job. His time away from home varies from job to job. Some hits can be done and over with over a course of a day, others can take several days-weeks even.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It's hard on both of you, but you both hang onto little things to keep the other close, theoretically speaking. He's very careful about it though because the last thing he wants is the wrong people finding out about you. Being with him already puts you at risk, like it or not, you guys need to be a secret-he insists.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Most dates are private. For safety reasons and plus come on, some couple alone time is always good. Some dates he'll take you to a place he found while out a job. It's usually some place secluded. He always makes sure to check around before bringing you there however, just in case theirs any dangers lingering about that he should deal with-or for your sake, avoid all together.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ His favourite dates are when he can just relax with you. Sure you guys can do that at home, but the change of scenery is nice sometimes. His favourite date so far is when you guys went to a large tree and just sat underneath it. Usually you always lean on him when you cuddle and lay together, but that time he was the one on you. His head on your lap as you ran your fingers through his white, rough hair. His hat he had tipped over his head to hide eye tired eyes from you.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "Striker~ You're falling asleep."
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "I'm relaxin my eyes, darlin'. Ever hearda relaxing?"
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He fell asleep.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Oh well. I recommend not teasing him about it later because he will make sure you don't comb your fingers through his hair again for a very long time.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He needs the sleep though. He works on his own schedule, which isn't bad per say, but his sleep schedules all over the place. Sometimes he'll sleep only a few short hours and sometimes it'll be like 14 hours. I'm not kidding. He does make an effort for you though because you're his darlin'! Especially since he's gotten to the point where he needs you there to sleep good.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ So you let him sleep for a little while. Not too long-don't wanna ruin his sleep schedule even more.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I love soft striker so much, I always think about holding his hand and that's it. Just holding it. He'll let you, usually sitting behind you so you don't have to see his flushed face.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Panics when you cry. He'll immediately rush to you and try his best to sooth you. It was very awkward when it first happened, it still is awkward but it's kind of different now. I don't know how to explain it but an improvement is I guess what we'll call it.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Even if you're the one fussing over him when he comes home injured, once he notices you getting teary eyed, he's quickly apologizing. What for? Who knows but stop crying you're freaking him out :(
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I feel like Striker's the type of guy to have a special way of saying I love you to you. He isn't a man of words so all his affections are done via action. I can think of a couple ways he'd say 'I love you'. Got the usual gentle hand squeezes, thigh squeezes, ect,. Sometimes they get...sweeter though. A sweet kiss on the lips-not a peck or heated kiss with the intent to go further. Just a sweet kiss then gazing into your eyes before he goes off to do whatever it is Striker does lol 💖
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ The first time he said it though? Weirdly enough was after an argument. He asked you to get him some water before he left on a hit and you came out with a cup of ice and said "wait". He would've been annoyed-and he was for a second-but then he started chuckling and pulled you in for a hug. "I love ya, darlin'!"
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Random soft Striker moment: you were baking and Striker was being oh so helpful (he wasn't, he was just hanging around to be near you) leaned in close to press a kiss to your head.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Come on-if he did that to me I'd instantly be so in love like omg ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა I already am in love but like I'd fall so hard I'd have no choice but to dig
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ In my head, Striker and his s/o is the Grumpy x Sunshine ship trope-aka my favourite ship trope ♡
The request was asking for Striker being soft with that one person but due to an error and a fumble on my keyboard, it published way too early. Sorry about that
૮꒰ づ˶◡﹏◡˶꒱აづ
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Notes on the JWCT Trailer
This will include spoilers and also my possible theories for events that will happen in the show so if you don't want to read that then keep scrolling.
Why is future Brooklynn always shoving her face into cameras?? Fits her character, I guess. In all serious, I love her new design even if it's only for a few seconds, the hair suits her face really well.
ALSO SHE'S DEAD????? I mean I had a feeling that if it were to be one of the campers it be her, but to have it confirmed is insane.
I secretly believe she's not dead and I might make another post about that. Unless we actually see her die I won't believe it.
Darius is never going to escape this guilt and the pressure of being responsible for the lives of others, is he? Give my baby a break.
Also I'm so used to referring to the campers as my babies but now they're grown ass adults that are significantly older than me, like what?
I'm excited to see what's actually going to be on Dark Jurassic bc we know people are tracking dinosaurs but I want to know all of the crazy conspiracies.
Why are they after the campers? That's my biggest question. I truly can't wait to see who's hunting them and why.
AHHH the rest of the campers are 100% confirmed. It was kind of obvious after the leaks and the show description but actually seeing them is making me feel some kind of way.
YASAMMY. As for if Sammy and yaz are still together, that's what I'm interested in. The way Ben was talking, it seems like everyone is separated, which would include Sammy and Yaz. It's possible that they could be physically together but I feel like that it would also make it way more easier to track everyone down if two of the three people were already with each other. This doesn't necessarily mean that they're now separated, they could always just be doing long distance or whatever. My theory is that Yaz and Sammy broke up at one point--Why? I don't know--just to make the separation/isolation between the campers more drastic but then that classic thing will happen where the two characters part of a larger group have broken up but are forced to regroup with everyone else, and therefore each other, and it's awkward at first, especially with the close proximity but then they begin to rekindle their relationship and make amends. Sometimes that ends with one of them dying at the end but praying that won't happen. If they're not together then this is the only alternative I'll take. Sammy and Yaz do seem to be very cutesy in the later scenes so it doesn't seem tooo out of reach.
The scene where Ben's van is driving along a road is giving major Texas vibes -> Sammy?? My guess is that she's the first they go to find.
I love Sammy's new design; her outfit just feels like her and the pink hair ends are everything I need. An homage to Brooklynn maybe? We all know Sammy was her biggest fan.
Also the clip of her seems to be like a fair or something which makes sense but it also looks like a couple of things are knocked over like a pole and a bucket. Also she's taking up a defensive stand. Could there have been like a county fair that was attacked by dinosaurs? That's what I'm thinking.
Kenji's design is cool. I don't have much to say about it but it feels like him enough. My boy is also getting active, I see. Is that his coping mechanism? Such a stark contrast to the lazy boy we once knew.
Yaz's new design I like. She's my favorite so I feel like I might me most critical about her design. Her hair is super cute but it's also taking a bit to get used to because in one clip she reminded me of Marinette from Miraculous Ladybug and I can't unsee it but it looks great in her first clip. I love the bangs. I'm curious about the background in that clip, I wish we got to see more of it. It looks sort of like a metal fence so could she be in Texas with Sammy. Later, I'm going to propose a theory that might oppose this idea though.
The next scene with the mysterious man is interesting. Is he one of the guy hunting them? The phone also seems to pink which does't seem like a color he would have. You want to know who would have a pink phone?? BROOKLYNN. I saw a theory by @snaileo which I like, that it's Brooklynn's phone which seems plausible. Perhaps it could be directly after Brooklynn's been attacked and sent that video to the others (Ben?) to warn them. So now the campers would know they're being hunted or whatever which could be the potential "problem" the guy is talking about. Just an idea.
I can't fucking wait until May 24th
The next scene definitely has to take place on Sammy's ranch. It's got that Texas terrain and there's also those pasture fence things and Sammy's in the scene. (And Bumpy too??? FUCKING YESSS). She also kind of moves in front of Ben and Darius like, "who the fuck is coming to my ranch??" Maybe I'm just overanalyzing that but we do know Sammy gets defensive over her ranch. Ben and Darius probably went to her first by the looks of it as Kenji and Yaz aren't pictured. Anyways, I'm so excited to see this place that Sammy committed corporate espionage for.
The scene with Ben in the kitchen place area talking about the raptors has a bunch of boxes in the background. I'm thinking this might still be Darius' cabin but the walls and general atmosphere seem a lot lighter. It could just be because it's day in that scene. Whoever's place it is, the boxes likely either mean that somebody's just moved in or that whoever lives there is prepared to leave at a moment's notice which is why I think it's Darius' cabin. At the same time, the door that's seen for a split second on 0.25 (yes that's the speed I'm watching it at, they're lucky I can't go slower) doesn't seem like a door that would belong in his cabin. It kind of reminds me of an RV. I do have to go and re-watch the teaser trailer to remind myself of what his cabin looks like. But if it's not Darius' place then who could it be? It could be Kenji's place because he looks all comfortable on the bed but then again, it's Kenji, he'll make himself comfortable anywhere. Maybe it's where Ben is staying. I'm probably looking way too deeply into this location but I need to know every detail until the show comes out.
The next scene obviously takes place in Sammy's house/ranch. One, she's there. Two, the overall home has that western/southern vibe to it, like with that swinging door thing. Three, if you look closely enough, there's a sign that says, "love hard, ranch harder," which, honestly that's definitely something that would be in Sammy's house. Four, if you still need proof, the thing she knocks over is a pitch fork thing which is very farmer-y. Also that door that she runs out of? That is a southern-door if I've ever seen one. Im jk but also I'm not. I wonder if this is happening before or after Ben and Darius arrive there. I want to say it's after because of the, "they found us," that precedes the scene but if so, where are they in that moment? An idea I have is that this scene happens first, and as she's running, she stumbles upon those two which is where we have that other scene where the car is driving up which could be the people who are handling/using the raptors. I could be completely wrong, though.
I cannot read maps for the fucking life of me. Does anybody know what it's of? I wonder where, when, and how Sammy acquired that map from Brooklynn because it could likely mean that Brooklynn had more contact with people before she "died." I just really want to find out the mystery surrounding her death/disappearance. What does the note say, hmm?
I ran out of space so I have to make a Pt.2 lmao
#jurassic world chaos theory#jurassic world camp cretaceous#jwcc#jwct#jwct spoilers#ben pincus#darius bowman#brooklynn jwcc#(what's brooklynn's last name will we never know?)#kenji kon#sammy gutierrez#yasmina fadoula#yasammy#i'm spiraling#can you tell#somebody sedate me#analysis#looking way to deeply into stuff
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Marauders head canons (love language edition) P2: the boys
P1: here (yes I did make the P2 two months later.)
James. James. James. He would be into very extravagant gestures and gifts, and everything really. He would always love gifting people really nice fancy (expensive) stuff, and would always do big events. Completely opposite though, he would loveee simple guestures, simple touches just whenever he’s out with his significant other, simple birthday party’s, barely any events, he just wants to be loved in silence.
Sirius wouldn’t really be much into the grand guestures, more small diy gifts or anything that makes him think of his partner. Also like just random un-sirius gifts he thinks they’ll love (eg: he got Remus a crescent moon earring bc he hates the full moon but loves the moon when it’s not full). He would love physical touch when given to him, it’s like this thing where he truly only feels comfortable with a partner if he lets them casually touch him, and it just makes him melt into a puddle.
Remus would always show his love by doing the most random things ever. Whether that is making his lover a flower crown of their favourite flower, or holding their hand whenever he could. You name it, he did it. Remus would always want his partner to feel valued in any way and every way. He would love being touched, it would make him feel really loved, like every time of touch imaginable (even sometimes violent touches :() would make him feel less insecure about himself, and feel like he deserved to be loved, because he always thought he didnt deserve to be held, to be touched.
Regulus. Is. A. Cuddler. That’s it, he loves cuddling and loves to be the little small spoon. Not just that actually, he also loves quality time, both ways, spending time with his partner because he feels that’s the only way to truly appreciate someone. He also finds it really special whenever someone gives him something because he’s barely ever gotten gifts from people, especially from his ‘Mother’ and ‘Father’ and he also loves getting random weird DIY shit like he eats that up.
Peter would love doing stuff for his Partner, like he would always be a actions of service (?) kind of guy. You ask him FOR anything and he would do it, no matter how vile or weird or funny. He would do anything to show his love and appreccation because nobody rlly did that for him growing up. He would love TOUCH, TOUCH TOUCH TOUCH TOUCH TOUCH. Cuddling, hugging, hand holding, and also the occasional hand on shoulder bc he is either shorter or taller than his partner.
BARTY CROUCH... JR. Biter. Wound maker (with consent). Touches both soft and light and comforting, and also like biting. Both ways. That's all you need to know about that smart ass (and fine ass) man.
EVAN MF ROSIER. Kill me if you please, but this man would give GIFTS that are the most random and vile and weird gifts but they would be so cuteeeeee. Like imagine his partner gettinga wisdom tooth necklace with his wisdom teeth or smth, like weird digusting but also omgg like he did that, for his partner so yeah. He would feel appreciated and loved when his partner would spend time with him, doing anything, baking, sleeping, watching movie, staring at each other when having a friend dinner, chilling on their phones watching tiktoks, killing ppl together. The works.
FRANK. Frankly I have a feeling that Frank would be so into just downright praising people, or like affirming them. Even if they weren't dating he would just go like 'Aww thanks, you did amazing! You're so good at this babes!" and then he wonders why everybody is in love with him... He would love just telling people that they're good ppl, or they're amazing or affirming them bc it's in his blood and viens (projecting again...) and he would just love showing his LOVE AND ADMIRATION through words! He would also need the exact same thing back though, poor guy frankly can't live without ppl telling them they love him (same man same). He also loves winning quidditch games for his partner, like those basketball guys who are like 'this ones for you' and they acc make it? lol.
#did you guys that according to me one of the love languages is now FANCY#bc it is#so yuh#evan rosier#barty crouch junior#sirius black#regulus black#marauders#james potter#marauders era#peter pettigrew#remus lupin#frank longbottom
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Amnesia | Regulus Black x Reader Blurb
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷
Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader
WC: 666
TW: Angst, talks of break up, not being able to move on, all through Regulus POV, no use of Y/N
Author's Note: honestly I only wrote this bc I wanted to wright something inspired by 5SOS 😭
Summary: Regulus is still dealing with the effects of your break up over a year later.
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“It's over, Regulus. I can't do this anymore. You don't talk to me anymore, I'm done.”
Your words play over and over in his head, on a constant loop.
He remembers the day you left, the tears streaming down your face. The look of pure defeat. He felt as if he had broken a part of you and it killed him.
He doesn't know why he did it still, why he started to shut down with you. He just felt like if he told you his thoughts that you'd eventually leave him.
That you'd get tired of him and his anxieties, that maybe he would start to bore you.
He still doesn't understand why he thought that especially when you never said or did anything to make him think those things.
Even when you sat there cried and begged him for months to let you in, Regulus just couldn't. He didn't know why he was scared, you had been together for years. He didn't understand why all of the sudden he couldn't talk to you.
He looked around the flat that you had shared. He hasn't changed anything since you left.
It had been over a year but he couldn't bring himself to move to a new flat or change anything about the space you both had occupied.
Regulus liked having reminders that you were once there. The pictures of the two of you that still remain on the walls, along with some of the decor that you two had picked out.
He likes looking at them, he likes feeling the loneliness that they brought him, it reminded him that you're real.
Sirius would come over often trying to get him to go out to the pubs to ‘get out there’ and try and ‘move on’ but Regulus doesn't want to move on.
He wants this last year to be a dream.
He wants to wake up and feel you in his arms, so he could just hold you and never let you go.
Regulus had asked Barty and Evan frequently how you are, if there's anything new in your life.
But he stopped asking three months ago, after they told him you had moved on. That you had been on a few dates with someone and you had made it official.
You were doing fine.
How could you be fine? How could you be okay? You had loved him, right? If all the dreams and promises that you left behind were real then how could you be fine?
Especially when he felt like he couldn't breathe anymore without you.
He'd catch himself thinking about you and your new partner.
He wondered if you were happy. If you ever felt lonely like him. If whenever you and your new partner got into fights would you read the poems and letters he had written for you over the years.
Do you even have them still? Or are they like your relationship with him? Gone.
Regulus liked thinking about the last kiss you had shared. How soft and beautiful it was.
He missed the way that it felt like you consumed him when you kissed. How he could only smell, taste and feel you.
When you would kiss, nothing else mattered. There was nothing else, nobody else on this plant, in this universe, time would stop when you were together.
Regulus was pulled out of his thoughts when there was a knock on the door.
He sighed and stood up figuring it was either Sirius or Barty coming to check on him so he didn't care how he looked.
He probably needed to shave and get a haircut. He was still in his pajamas even though it was the middle of the day but he just could bring himself to really care.
Regulus opened the door and when he saw who it was he felt like all the air had left his lungs and he wished he had cared what he looked like a second ago.
“Hi, Reg.”
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#Spotify#regulus black#rab#regulus black x reader#rab x reader#regulus x reader#x reader#marauders#the marauders#marauders era#marauders fanfiction#regulus black fanfiction#harry potter#hogwarts#hogwarts houses#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#barty crouch jr#evan rosier#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#peter pettigrew#moony wormtail padfoot and prongs#regulus and sirius#sirius and regulus#the most ancient and noble house of black#5 seconds of summer#5sos#song fic#angst
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i made a semi-facetious joke about kabru dungeon meshi but then it turned into a long ramble oops
kabru is so weirded out by laios' inscrutable vibes and lack of interest in other people (including kabru which he totally doesn't take personally or anything) that he immediately descends into paranoia and assumes malevolence
what i'm saying is laios is autistic rep, this we know,
but kabru is also autistic rep,
for equally traumatized autistic people who think their hard-learned mastery of people pleasing, social scripts and masking translates into unilateral skill at reading people of all types and assuming they are right on the money about it every time (**despite obvious cases of this not being true) and now call themselves Dark Empaths and have that one person who didn't wrong them but also didn't notice them or immediately become their friend and so said Empath is waiting desperately for another, actually valid reason to call them out and claim this weirdo was evil all along and be 'dealt with' and feel reassuring closure over not being able to connect with what is now clearly proven to be just an obvious error of a human, whatever that even means,
and tragically not grappling with the irony of this being the exact fate they've merely defensively trained their way out of facing at the hands of others
i say this as someone who likes kabru and think he and laios should kiss btw i just wanted to see how many people read all that and Flinched, happy tuesday
**something something:
Worthy Contrast i think, between
A) kabru assuming average joe adventurers laios and falin are sinister people hiding something... after seeing their honest generosity be pretty blatantly taken advantage of, without them ever catching on or at least never causing a fuss, and kabru assuming laios could only ever be corrupted by the forces of the dungeon because laios doesn't care enough about people or what people think, which must mean he doesn't value human life enough to not do evil things one day
B) kabru having misguided trust for the town's literal crime lord, who he knows is a crime lord, entirely bc of how friendly the guy is and how clean and orderly he runs things (because it's functionally pragmatic to not be as evil as possible about it) and oohh they're so well acquainted! kabru knows he's a ultimately a good dude who'd do the right thing and care about the community whose seedy underbelly he oversees, and look at him, he even looks like santa claus...! after all the cordial interactions they've had, surely "leave money on the table to prevent a calamity that could leave hundreds dead" is a favor he won't mind kabru asking of him at all!
kabru said he wanted to see a mask fall,
he got exactly that
#fandom warbling#dungeon meshi warbling#fandom posts will not be rebloggable bc i don't gamble#dude that face jumspcared me the first time i read the manga LOL#panels including spoilers for a minor character we see for like 1 chapter turning heel ig?#i hc kabru as jealous of laios' more 'honest' weirdness while kabru is running on Hypervigilant Social 4D Chess Mode at all times#also the lovehateboner partially rooted in laios being a chaos variable in any social script kabru could possibly attempt to break the ice#unlike most people he has to formulate interactions with laios From Scratch just for a conversation to -functionally continue-#in a way he's forced to be himself enough to confront what he even wants from these conversations to figure out what to even say#even if what he ends up saying is more people pleasing bullshit for a dude who you don't actually need to try that hard to befriend#haha he makes you feel vulnerable in a really abstract way every time you simply try to Communicate with him doesn't he kabru#i'm rambling again hi#i like kabru and i don't think the anime is doing him justice but maybe that'll get better
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i really love that your characters aren't like perfect and conventionally attractive if that makes sense? like basil having top surgery scars and just BEING trans and still being someone who's implied to be attractive, or small stuff like flo not being super toned idk it just makes me feel really happy that for once it's an IF whos potential romantic interests aren't "bland actual fucking supermodel", "bland actual fucking supermodel but with red hair" and "bland actual supermodel but 5'10"
sorry for rambling it's just like a game where I feel comfortable, that like in universe I wouldn't be given shit about what I look like y'know
also I liked Basil's joke about the MC (I assume this is only when picking the short option) being the same size as some of the kids. it made it feel like friendly and real
THANK YOU I'm serious this particular thing means so much to me.
I very much intend for my characters to be attractive, but each in their own way, not like the "bland supermodels" you described. Bc that's so real. In most romance fiction (not just IFs), I find that sooo many characters are just boringly beautiful. I have a hard time falling in love with the characters bc of that.
Also, I want each of my ROs to look according to what they do. Their appearance should suit their personalities and needs. Besides, "flaws" totally add to a character's charm imo.
-RO ramble incoming!-
To me at least, the SHC ROs are very attractive, but like in a normal, approachable way. I put a lot of thought into their specific kinds of attractiveness.
Basil is very attractive!! In a fox-like, impish kind of way, with his fairycore vibes and whatnot. I also love that you said "supermodel but 5'10" like 5'10 is short or sth lol. But I see what you mean! Basil, of course, is like 5'8 but I like to think anyone who meets Basil would be too distracted by the entire rest of him to even consider height. Besides, to me (I be gremlin) that's still kinda tall.
I figure being trans doesn't really factor into his attractiveness at all. From your ask, it sounds like trans people get described as ugly in a lot of fiction?? I wouldn't know, but if that's what you were saying, then that's a sorry state of affairs.
Flo is also attractive, in more of a "conventional masculinity"-type of way. But he's not well-dressed because he hates the feel of most fabrics, so he's only ever in his sweater. And of course he's not super defined! He has NO interest in being super handsome (aside from keeping his hair and beard shiny). He wants to be a tank. And he is a tank.
And if you consider how much food he consumes in the fairground-sequence alone (cheesecake, around five deep fried candy bars).... Yeah he loves to eat. Hence, he's got a bit of padding lol. There's no technical reason for the large nose ofc, I just thought that was cute.
Reem is the most "supermodel"-esque out of the ROs, I think. Although that's subjective. She's actually toned, but like... also very noticeably muscular. In that defined kinda way I might have intentionally avoided with Flo! But like, it makes sense that Reem would build abs and stuff for herself. She values her stage presence. She does want her performances and looks and outfits to be memorable, and HERSELF to be memorable. She's just raw, brutal magnetism. (Also I might have gotten inspired by BG3 Karlach when I first came up with Reem.)
Anita is pretty, too, but in like... a "cute" way. A Velma kind of way. With her, like, really thick glasses. Anita's appealing in a wispy, ethereal kind of sense. Or perhaps even slightly girl-next-door-ish, with an added academia vibe. Also, she's slim, not model-slim but "I forgot to eat/I'm stressed and have no appetite"-slim. This is really important to me. Will come up in the story, too. With that also comes her bad posture. She slouches a lot.
So yeah the ROs' attractiveness is rly something I put thought into, and I'm super happy you noticed. Makes my entire day whenever I get an ask like that. Thank you!
Also yeah hehe I was proud of that joke
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