#lis x reader

fwb!nathan face fucking you

doggy style with one-nightstand!nathan

bf!nathan eating you out

jerking off sub!bf!nathan while he eats you out

anal + pussy slapping & fingering with bf!nathan

You play with the end of your shirt, nervously waiting for the front door to be answered, your body lit up by the porch light. It's not like you haven't met Sean's family casually, but being invited for dinner felt like a personal test. You can't help being a bit anxious. Suddenly the door flings open, pulling you from your thoughts, to reveal Daniel on the other side.

He smiles, "Hi!" He says your name with such enthusiasm you'd think he invited you himself. Now that the thought is brought up, though, it's not unlikely this was his idea.

"Dude, cut it out." Sean says, walking into your view and shoving Daniel lightly out of the way.

"Don't push me! I was just saying hi..." Daniel grumbles and plops grumpily onto the couch. You laugh as Sean rolls his eyes and steps outside to you.

He lowers his voice, "Sorry, he's excited to see you. Not as much as me, though." Sean rests his hands on your sides and smiles, looking behind him briefly.

You roll your eyes at his cheesy comment, checking his watch briefly. "I know I'm a bit early, sorry." You whisper, and he shakes his head, one hand moving up to rest under your jaw.

"It's alright, I don't mind." His eyes soft as he looks over your face. He clears his throat, "You, uhm, you look pretty." You laugh quietly and hum.

"Thank you. So do you." You tilt your head as he reddens a bit before his dad calls out to him.

"Sean! Are they here?" You can hear footsteps approaching and Sean quickly releases you and takes a small step back. Esteban approaches in an apron with some hasty doodles on it--"best dad ever" from what you can read. He passes the doorway and shakes your hand.

"It's nice to meet you." He smiles welcomingly as you follow him inside. It smells of spices and a bit of garlic, the room hot with cooking. You catch Daniel wiggling his eyebrows at Sean behind you before Sean throws a nearby pillow at him. You hold a laugh.

"Dinner should be ready in a few minutes, make yourself at home." Esteban says, retreating to the kitchen. Sean tugs your sleeve gently as he walks to his bedroom. You let him. His room is a bit messy, clothes strewn on his chair, but it looks alright to you.

When the door is shut, you smile at the sight. Sean collapses onto his bed and groans. "Daniel is going to ruin this whole thing." He mutters, his voice muffled by the pillows. You walk to the bed and sit on the edge of it.

"It'll be alright, Sean, relax." He sits up when you speak, sighing and pulling you towards him. He rests his head on your shoulder.

"I know, I know. Can I come over tomorrow?" He asks, his voice quieter at the end, hesitant.

"My parents are having a retirement party for my uncle, so probably not," you sigh, hugging him back. "But I can probably sneak over here." He looks up at that and smiles, nodding.

"Daniel won't snitch, he'll be at a friend's house." He replies, but you roll your eyes.

The door barges open as Daniel immediately starts speaking about something before you can react. Sean sprints up off the bed and ushers him out before Daniel can speak another word. "Dude," Sean whines "I told you to knock!"

"Wait! What are you guys doing in there?" He calls through the door, inviting you into a fit of laughter while Sean pouts. "Dad says dinner is done!" Daniel shouts one final time.

You stand up and Sean rubs his face, opening the door for you. The table is set, though half of it is filled with boxes and... art supplies, maybe.

"You'll have to excuse the mess; we've been pretty disorganized around the house." Esteban sets down the plates and nods to you.

"It's alright, I don't mind," you politely reply.

The food is nice; the dinner is quiet--aside from Esteban's questions about your life and Daniel's outbursts on embarrassing stories about Sean. You feel Sean's hand slide into yours under the table, warm and slightly shaky. You smile down at your plate, now aware that he was more nervous than you were.

"Daniel, give it a rest!" Sean whines to Daniel after the 3rd story, so you nudge his ankle with yours--a silent "it's okay".

Sean collects dishes as you follow him with anything else he needs help with, chatting quietly as he scrapes the remaining food into the trash can from the plates with a fork.

"You're too mean to him," you whisper, looking at Sean, "he's just excited." You rest your head on his shoulder.

Sean sighs, "I know but he should still give us some air to breathe, it's humiliating," but you only giggle in response.

Esteban walks into the kitchen and, once again, you two rush apart. He chuckles slightly. "You don't need to worry about this," he mutters, taking the trash from your hands, "go hang out with Sean." So, you thank him quietly.

Sean walks towards his room, but you catch his wrist, checking your phone. "My parents are here. I have to go." You inform him, causing a frown followed by a short nod.

"Thanks for coming, then. Sorry it was awkward." He smiles, his hands fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt before they rest.

"It wasn't." You smile, grabbing your jacket from the coat hook and leaving to the door. The night air is cold, and you feel a chill go up your arms as you hear Sean's footsteps.

He follows you outside, stopping at the porch. He presses one hand against your cheek as the other rests on your arm, and he plants a sweet goodbye kiss on your lips. When he pulls back, your eyes trail to the curtain to a smug face watching through the window. Esteban winks, and you smile before waving goodbye to Sean, walking down the sidewalk to your ride.

When Sean makes it back inside, Esteban is drying dishes. "Daniel, go play in your room for a minute?" He calls to the young boy, who sighs dramatically but proceeds.

Sean also begins to walk to his own room, but not before being stopped by his dad. "What?" He asks, tired.

"So, you got a special someone, eh, hijo?" He smirks. Sean's brows furrow.

"What? N-no way. They're just my friend, I told you!" Sean's panicked demeanor only encourages his father. "You said you wouldn't do this..."

"Right. Next time your 'friend' comes over, I'll be sure to pass you a mint this time," he says, before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door.

Sean scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he checks his breath as soon as he gets into his room. He smiles.

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But Nathan wasn’t done. He followed, keeping pace easily, his voice dropping into that dangerous, mocking tone he used when he wanted to pick someone apart. “Face it. You’re just pissed because you have to finally realized you’re not better than me.”

You whirled around, nearly slamming into his chest. “I am better than you,” you hissed, close enough to see the fine scars nicking the side of his jaw, the ones most people didn’t notice under the arrogant smirk. “I don’t have to buy my friends, or bribe my teachers ”

Nathan laughed, sharp and ugly. “Yeah? Keep telling yourself that, bitch. Maybe one day you’ll actually believe it.”

The tension between you vibrated like a taut wire, ready to snap. Across the hall, Mr. Jefferson poked his head out of his classroom door. “Everything okay over there?”

You both spoke at the same time:

“Fine,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Peachy,” Nathan drawled with a fake grin.

Mr. Jefferson raised an eyebrow but disappeared back into the classroom without another word. Nathan turned back to you, the smile dropping immediately. “We’re meeting at the library. Tomorrow. Four o’clock,” he said, his voice all business now, like he could barely stand to look at you.

“Don’t be fucking late, (Y/L/N). I don’t wanna waste more time than I have to babysitting your dumbass.”

You gave a mocking bow. “Oh, your majesty. Should I bring you a goddamn throne too?”

Nathan just rolled his eyes, shoving his hands deep into his jacket pockets as he stalked off down the hall without another glance at you. You stood there, fists clenched, heart pounding. God, you hated Nathan Prescott.

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The library clock ticked past 4:00 PM. You drummed your fingers on the table, glaring at the empty seat across from you. Your notebook lay open, pen uncapped. Still no Nathan.

At 4:17, he finally strolled in with all the grace of someone who gave absolutely zero fucks sunglasses on indoors, slouched walk, earphones dangling. You didn’t disappoint. “You’re fucking late,” you snapped the second he dropped into the chair across from you with a loud, obnoxious scrape. Nathan didn’t even look at you. Just threw his bag on the table, knocking your pen to the floor.

“Cry harder.”

You scoffed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah? So’s your face, but here we are.”

You clenched your jaw, grabbing your pen. “You gonna actually contribute or just sit there throwing middle school insults?”

Nathan pulled out a crumpled folder and dropped it onto the table like it weighed ten pounds. “I already did my part. You can finish it. You’re the one who actually gives a shit.”

“You call this your part?” You flipped through the papers of barely legible answers. “This looks like it was written by a brain damaged raccoon.”

He smirked. “Well you and the raccoon have something in common. Both can’t shut the fuck up.”

You leaned in, voice low and furious. “I’m not doing this whole thing alone, Prescott. If I fail because of your lazy, coke snorting ass, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Nathan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, gaze dark and slow. “Blow me, princess.”

You didn’t flinch. You just smiled. Sweet. Cold. “I don’t do charity work.”

A few heads turned. You didn’t care. Neither did he. Nathan barked out a laugh bitter, humorless and sat forward again, voice tighter. “You think you’re tough?”

“No,” you said, deadly calm. “I know I’m better than you. You just hate that I don’t suck up to your daddy’s money like everyone else in this school.”

His smile dropped like a stone. “You’re right,” he said, quiet and sharp. “You’re not like everyone else. You’re just louder, bitchier, and a hell of a lot more annoying.”

“At least I don’t need pills and daddy’s lawyers to make it through the day.”

“Fuck you,” he muttered, but he opened the book anyway. Slouched so low in his chair you wondered how he could even see the words.

You tried to focus on your own work, but the sound of Nathan tapping his pen against the table made your skin itch. Every two minutes he let out a sigh, a groan, or muttered some sarcastic shit under his breath.

Finally, you snapped.

“If you hate this so much, maybe you should’ve told Jefferson to pair you with someone who gives a shit about your trust fund problems.” Nathan slammed the book closed so hard it made a few nearby students jump.

“Yeah, because you’re so fucking perfect, huh? Probably got your whole boring little life planned out already. Graduate, go to some shitty state school, get a lame job, marry some douchebag with a Prius ”

“At least I’m not gonna OD in my daddy’s beach house!” you hissed back, the words out before you could stop them.

The library went deadly quiet. Even the air seemed to freeze. Nathan’s eyes darkened. His whole face twisted, raw and ugly, and for a terrifying second, you thought he might actually throw something at you. Instead, he stood up so fast his chair tipped over behind him.

“Fuck this,” he snarled.

The librarian barked from the desk, “Hey! shut up or get out!”

Nathan didn’t even flinch. He grabbed his bag and stormed out, shoving the door open so hard it banged against the wall. You stayed frozen in your seat, chest heaving, throat tight. Some students stared. Others pretended not to notice. Slowly, you packed up your things, the shame burning hotter than your anger now.

You left the library with your jaw tight and your fists clenched so hard your nails bit into your palms. Screw him. Screw his smug face, his broken homework, and that goddamn mouth that never shut up unless he was about to say something even worse.

The cold air outside was a slap, but it helped. You headed toward the dorms, steps quick and angry. Until you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and sure enough, Nathan Prescott was trailing you, jacket half zipped, jaw set like he’d been chewing on broken glass. You stopped. “Are you seriously following me now? What, storming out wasn’t enough for you?”

Nathan didn’t stop until he was right in front of you. Too close. “Why the fuck are you always such a bitch to me?” he snapped.

You blinked. That… wasn’t what you expected. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” he bit, eyes narrowed. “We’ve barely spoken before this week, and you act like you’ve got me all figured out. You’re always ready to throw shit at me like you know me.”

Your mouth opened, but no words came. For once, he wasn’t just being snide he was pissed, yeah, but there was something else under it. Something sharper. Real.

“What the hell did I do to you, huh?” he went on, voice rising. “We’ve never had a conversation before Jefferson paired us up, and you already decided I’m the devil or some shit.”

“You’ve got a reputation, Prescott. Don’t act surprised.”

He laughed. One dry, humorless breath. “Yeah? So that’s it? Some gossip, and suddenly you know who I am?”

You crossed your arms. “I don’t need to know you. I’ve seen enough.”

“No, you’ve seen what you want to see.” He leaned in slightly, voice low. “You think I’m some rich junkie asshole with a fucked up temper and a silver spoon so far up my ass I choke on it, right?” You didn’t answer. The silence said enough. Nathan’s tongue pressed against his cheek. He nodded slowly, like he was trying to swallow something bitter. “Right. Thought so.”

You shifted your weight. “Look, you act like a dick, Nathan. You treat people like they’re beneath you.”

“And you treat me like I’m already guilty of something I didn’t even fucking do.” His tone turned colder. “So what does that make you? If you’re throwing labels at someone without even trying to know them?”

You tried to shove past him, but he stepped in front of you again not touching you, but close enough to make your blood burn. “What? Can’t handle hearing it? You’re so sure you’re better than me?”

“I am better than you.”

“No,” he said, voice like ice, “what kind of self righteous bullshit is that”

You stared at him. His eyes weren’t glazed or cocky like usual, they were clear. You hated how it made your stomach twist. “Just stay the hell away from me,” you muttered.

He didn’t move. “Then stop talking about me like you know me. Because you don’t. And judging by today?” He tilted his head slightly, mouth curled in something bitter. “You’re not half as perfect as you like to pretend.” Then he finally stepped aside, letting you pass. But his words followed you all the way down the sidewalk.

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You moved through the halls walking beside Max while she rambled about her latest photo concept. Her words blurred something about natural light, shadows, an abandoned greenhouse. You nodded here and there, but your attention wasn’t really on her. Nathan Prescott stood across the hall, leaned casually against the lockers in that crimson red sweater he always wore like armor. His hands were shoved into his pockets, posture slouched, head tilted toward Victoria, who was perched beside him. She was talking fast probably gossiping and he was barely listening. His expression was eyes distant.

“Hey, you good?” Max asked, her voice soft as she glanced sideways at you.

You blinked, pulled from your thoughts. “Yeah. Just out of it.”

She smiled lightly. “Blackwell’ll do that to you.”

Across the hall, Nathan looked up. His eyes met yours. You expected him to smirk. Or scoff. Or whisper something to Victoria that would piss you off all over again. He didn’t. He just held your gaze. There was no fire in it this time.

Then Max nudged your shoulder. “C’mon, we’ll be late.”

You turned, walking with her toward class, but the moment stuck with you like a thorn beneath skin. He wasn’t just some cautionary tale wearing expensive clothes. you weren’t as far above the mess as you liked to pretend.

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You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it. You’d barely knocked twice before the door to Nathan’s dorm creaked open, not wide, just enough for a glimpse of his sharp glare and the darkened room behind him. His eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came to work on the project,” you replied, shifting your weight.“You bailed on the library. I didn’t have your number.”

Nathan blinked once. Then, without warning, he reached out, grabbed your wrist, and yanked you inside. “Jesus!” The door slammed shut behind you. Before you could blink again, you were standing in the middle of his room dim, cluttered, with a faint smell of smoke and expensive cologne in the air. The only light came from a lamp on his desk, casting long shadows across the mess of camera equipment, crumpled notes, and an open bottle of water. He stood between you and the door, arms crossed, expression sharp.

“You shouldn’t be in the guys’ dorm.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not that deep, Prescott.”

“No,” he said, stepping a little closer, “it’s pathetic. You that desperate to see me? You stalking me now? Perv.”

You stared at him. “Are you always this fucking dramatic?” you snapped. “I came to work. On the project. The thing that’s due next week?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You couldn’t just ask for my number?”

“like your ass would indulge me in any conversation”

Nathan scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “And barging into my dorm was the better option?”

“You ditched me. Again.” You crossed your arms, mirroring him. “I’m not playing chase the rich kid so you can pretend this group project doesn’t exist. I showed up so we can finish the damn thing.”

He stared at you for a long beat.

Then, quietly, “You’re a fucking pain in my ass.”

“I’m passing this class.”

He turned away, flopping onto the edge of his unmade bed, elbows on his knees. “Fine,” he muttered. “If you’re gonna stand there taking over my space, grab a chair. Let’s get it over with.” You hesitated. Just for a second. Then sat down across from him silently waiting for Nathan to open the shared project file. But your eyes kept drifting. His desk was cluttered High end camera bodies rested in velvet lined foam. Lenses of varying sizes were stacked in an open case like polished glass trophies. Film rolls peeked out of a drawer he hadn’t shut properly. And on the wall above his bed, pinned with silver tacks, were photos.

Black and white. Grainy. Sharp.

Some were of strangers street shots, harsh shadows and sharp angles. Others were more abstract: empty chairs, cracked pavement, tree limbs twisting through fog. You didn’t mean to stare so long. But the compositions were striking. Not what you’d expected from someone who talked like he didn’t care about anything. Nathan sat on the edge of his bed, laptop open in front of him, fingers frozen over the keyboard. he wasn’t looking at the screen. He was watching you. Eyes low beneath his lashes, The tension from earlier had settled into something quieter not calm, exactly, but less volatile. He noticed the way your head tilted slightly as you studied a particular photo on the wall, your brow furrowed in faint curiosity. You looked different when you weren’t trying to bite back. He blinked, shook the thought away like an itch under his skin, and finally tapped the space bar.

“You gonna drool or you wanna help?” he muttered, loud enough to snap your attention back.

You blinked, jerking your head toward him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re staring at my shit”

You scoffed. “I was just surprised you’re actually good at something other than being an asshole.”

A grin flickered across his lips. “Wow. Touching praise from someone who broke into my dorm.”

“I didn’t break in.”

“guys dorm remember? That’s trespassing.”

You opened your mouth to fire back then caught the way his voice softened just slightly on that last word. Not enough to call it kind. You leaned forward, finally dragging the chair toward his desk. “Just show me what you’ve done so far. We’re not gonna finish anything if you keep acting like I poisoned your coffee.” He exhaled slowly, shifting the laptop so you could both see the screen. But his gaze lingered on you a second longer before turning to the document. You didn’t notice. He didn’t say anything.

You didn’t know how it happened but somewhere between reviewing the first slides and editing the captions, the two of you had stopped biting at each other. Nathan wasn’t exactly friendly, but he was… tolerable. He made a sarcastic comment about your font choice, and you rolled your eyes but didn’t snap. You pointed out a typo in his work, and he didn’t bark back, just muttered “Yeah, alright,” under his breath and fixed it.

life is strange isnt it?

The lamp on his desk cast a warm glow across the screen as the two of you leaned closer, arguing mildly about the placement of one of the images. You caught a soft twitch at the corner of his mouth not a smile, not quite but something quieter, like he wasn’t entirely annoyed you were here anymore. You glanced at the photo on the slide. One of his shots: a boy sitting on a curb, face obscured by shadow, light cutting sharp across his shoulder. “This one’s your best,” you said before you could stop yourself. Nathan’s eyes flicked to yours, He didn’t say anything. Just stared. Then, his phone buzzed.

Once.

Twice.

He glanced down, pulled it from his pocket lazily, still half focused on the screen. But the moment his eyes locked onto the message, something in him changed. Like a switch flipped. His shoulders tensed. Jaw tightened. Whatever softness had started to settle between you evaporated. He shoved the phone back into his pocket hard. You straightened, uncertain. “Everything okay?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Then voice low, clipped “You should go.”

The air dropped ten degrees.

You blinked. “What?”

“I said, you should leave.” He stood abruptly, already walking past you, pacing like the room had become too small to breathe in.

You stood, confused, watching him retreat toward the window without explanation.

“Nathan ”

“Don’t,” he snapped, not turning around. “It’s fine. Project’s fine. everything is fine. the world is fucking fine. I’ll send you the edits later.”

His voice was cold again. The weight was back in the room, that same heaviness you’d felt the first time he looked at you like you were just another person here to take something from him. You didn’t know who had texted him. Or why he looked like the ground had just shifted beneath him. But you didn’t ask. You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder slowly. “Thanks for not being a total dick today,” you said quietly.

No response. You walked to the door, hesitating just a moment before opening it. Nathan still hadn’t turned around. So you left quietly, without another word. The hallway light stung your eyes as the door clicked shut behind you.

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Nathan laid on his back, eyes wide open, blinking into the ceiling. He hadn’t moved in hours not really. He’d thrown on a hoodie sometime after you left, curled in on himself, and stared at nothing as the hours bled past midnight. His phone buzzed again. Another message. From the same number. He didn’t read it. His chest felt tight. He could hear his own breathing too fast, too shallow. His hands twitched where they gripped the edge of his mattress, fingers white knuckled and cold. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. But it felt worse tonight. Now shame thick in his throat, desperation louder than pride, he opened the school directory, found your name, and typed your number in. He stared at the digits for a long time. Then, he hit Call.

You woke up to the buzz of your phone on your nightstand, groggy and confused.

1:47 AM. Unknown Number.

You almost ignored it. Almost. Though you firmly believed doing stuff for the plot leads to funnier futures.

“Hello?”

For a few seconds, there was only silence. Then a quiet breath. A small, almost inaudible noise. Then, “Don’t hang up.”

Your heart stilled. “Nathan?”

“Um… hi?” you said slowly. “Why are you ”

“I just…” He sounded off. His voice was low, but shaky. Like he was trying to keep it together. “I can’t sleep.”

You were quiet for a second. Not sure what to say. It was weird. You barely knew him. The guy who made it very clear he didn’t want to work with you suddenly calling you in the middle of the night? The hell? “How did you get my number?”

“School directory. Look, I know it’s fucking weird, okay? Just fuck just don’t hang up yet.”

You leaned back in your bed, running a hand down your face. The annoyance faded just a little. There was something raw under his words, something fraying at the edges.

You exhaled. “Alright. I’m not hanging up. What’s going on?”

He didn’t answer right away. You heard him breathing though sharp inhales, shallow. Like he was pacing, or panicking.

“I just needed noise or something. I dunno. It’s like my chest’s full of needles.”

Okay. That was more than you expected. You pushed your blanket off and sat up fully, rubbing your eyes awake.

“Okay,” you said softly. “Sounds like a panic attack.”

He let out a laugh. It was bitter. Dry. “No shit.”

You stayed quiet a second, then started talking. Not about anything important just things to fill the space. You told him about the way your floorboards creaked weirdly when it got cold. The dumb poster your roommate hung crooked. The vending machine that kept eating your dollar bills. You weren’t sure why he stayed on the line. You weren’t sure why you did, either. But the minutes passed, and you could hear his breathing start to even out.

At one point, he said, quieter this time, “I didn’t know who else to call.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. So you didn’t say anything. He stayed on the line until you heard nothing but slow, steady breathing. Then the call ended. You thought that was it. Just a one time weird moment. But the next night, your phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number. 12:18 AM.

You stared at it for a second. Then picked up. “Couldn’t sleep again?”

“Fuck off,” Nathan muttered, but his voice didn’t sound angry.

just like that, it became a thing. Not every night, but often enough. He’d call, and you’d talk him through it. Or he’d just listen while you rambled about whatever was in your head. Sometimes he didn’t even say much. You’d just hear his breathing. Then, one night, a text.

[1:03 AM] “Dorm’s a pressure cooker tonight. Need to get out. You up?”

You blinked down at it, thumb hovering over the screen. Then replied. “ok fuckboy, Where?”

[1:04 AM] “Back side of the art building. If you’re not scared of the dark or whatever.”

You pulled a hoodie over your head and slipped out the side door, keeping your steps light across the grass. You found him sitting on the low concrete wall, hoodie on, legs stretched out, a cigarette burning between his fingers. He didn’t look at you when you walked up.

“So… you make a habit of calling girls you don’t like at 1 a.m.?” you asked, standing over him.

He smirked, flicking ash. “You’re the only one dumb enough to answer.”

“Lucky me.”

He scooted over slightly. You sat down next to him, knees brushing briefly. He smelled faintly like smoke and laundry detergent. For a minute, neither of you said anything. Then he muttered, “Thanks. For not being a dick about the calls.”

You glanced at him. That was probably the closest thing to a thank you he was capable of. “Yeah, well,” you said, nudging him with your shoulder, “I’m not completely heartless.”

He gave a dry little laugh and took another drag. And for the first time since you’d met him, Nathan didn’t seem like he was pretending to be someone else.You hopped up beside him, the wall cold through your jeans. He handed you the cig wordlessly, and you took a drag, passing it back before pulling your phone from your hoodie pocket.

Three missed texts.

[1:52 AM Warren G.]

Where are you right now?

[1:53 AM Warren G.]

I just saw you from my window. Was that Nathan Prescott? Seriously??

[1:54 AM Warren G.]

[Y/N], what are you doing with him?

You stared at the screen for a long second, then locked it and shoved it deep into your pocket. You weren’t answering that.Warren was probably the reason you hated him so much. Right now Instead, you pulled a small joint from the hem of your hoodie tucked right where your sleeve met the wristband.

Nathan’s eyes tracked the motion, brow raising. “Since when do you carry?”

“Since tonight, apparently.” You lit it with a flick of a borrowed lighter, watching the paper curl into orange.

Nathan smirked faintly, but there was a flash of something in his face, curiosity. Not judgment. Just… surprise. “Rough night?”

You took a long pull, exhaled upward. “You could say that.”

You didn’t mention Warren. Didn’t mention the way your phone buzzed in your pocket like it was desperate to ruin the quiet. Nathan didn’t push. He just leaned back on his elbows, watching the smoke twist into the dark sky. What has been different from when you started interacting with Nathan more was not telling your friends everything. Warren might be the only reason you didnt like the guy that was sitting beside you. Though even hes such a stick in the mid sometimes.

“Not bad form,” he muttered.

“Thanks.”

He gave a soft snort, and for a minute, the tension dropped. You passed the joint over, and he took it without a word. The smoke danced lazily in the air between you, catching in the wind and disappearing into nothing. You leaned back beside him, body loose from the hit, brain a little fogged like your thoughts were wearing fuzzy socks on a hardwood floor. Nathan took another drag, eyes half lidded, and passed it back to you. You didn’t take it this time. Just stared forward, hands braced behind you, legs kicked out.

“You know,” you started, voice a little slower than usual, like you had to fish the words from somewhere murky, “I think I like you more than I realized.” Silence. You looked over, then quickly back at the dark stretch of campus in front of you. “I mean maybe it’s the high talking. Or maybe I’m just sleep deprived and having a brain glitch. Whatever.” You waved it off like it wasn’t a big deal, even though it felt like one. “It’s not like I know you, know you, but…”

You trailed off. The buzz of the joint mixed with the weight of that little truth hanging out in the open air now. Nathan blinked at you and then scoffed. “Wow,” he muttered with a crooked smile. “You catch feelings off one joint and a sad boy routine?.”

You turned to glare at him. “Shut up.”

“No, really. Should I light candles next time? Bring you flowers? Write you some poetry?” His grin stretched You went to snap back but then his hand brushed against yours on the concrete. Not accidental. He didn’t look at you when he did it. He just let his fingers slide over yours, catching them loosely. His palm was warm. Steady. You didn’t say anything. Didn’t look at him. Just stared at the building lights across the quad and let your hand stay in his.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

You hadn’t slept. Not really. Instead, you’d just laid there, reliving every second behind the art building Nathan’s hand in yours. he was warm. so warm. his eyes were glossy. the night ended later than any of you two could gather. Blackwell always felt a little gray in the morning, but today it there might have been a little pep in your step. Cold in the air, a small little nathan shaped warmth in your chest. You stepped into the hallway and spotted him before you were even fully through the door.

Nathan. Leaning against a locker laughing at something Victoria said, though it didn’t look real. Nothing about him did anymore. You slowed for just a second. “Shit,” he muttered, loud enough to carry. “Should’ve known the freak parade would show up early.”

Victoria snorted. “God, can she not?” Her eyes flicked over your clothes like she was personally offended by the fabric. “Every day’s a fashion crime with her.”

You froze mid step. Max and Warren were behind you, chatting, not realizing what you were walking into. Your heart stung before your brain could even process what was happening. Nathan pushed off the locker, brushing past you with a smug little smile. “Hope the janitors are getting paid extra,” he sneered, “cleaning up after your desperation.”

“What the hell, Prescott?” Warren stepped in fast, hand fisting at his side.

Nathan turned back, cocky, dangerous. “Relax, boy scout. Didn’t realize you two were still sharing notes. Or maybe it’s more than that, huh?” His eyes swept to you again, slower this time, and colder. “Figures. Nobody else would.”

ok pause. because what the fuck happened. Like yes he was an ass. the whole school knew that. Though considering the amount of time he was crawling into your messages, where the hell did this come from?

“Keep walking,” Max said lowly, stepping up beside you.

Max didn’t press. She never did. That was the nice thing about her. Since starting the school year, you both bonded on being new. well for you, relatively new and her coming back to her hometown.

Warren, though? At lunch, he was full of energy, waving you over like always. You sat down beside him and Max at your usual table under the half broken patio umbrella. He was in the middle of some rant about science fiction film logic when it happened.

“I’m just saying if a robot gains sentience, it doesn’t automatically mean it wants to kill us. That’s lazy writing ”

From across the quad, a loud snort cut him off.

“Wow,” Victoria said, not even bothering to keep her voice down. “Look who’s still wearing last season’s clearance rack.”

You blinked, confused, until you realized she was looking directly at you. Taylor giggled beside her, but it was Nathan who made your stomach drop. He pointed toward once at your table and leaned over to whisper something to Victoria. Then, loud enough for everyone near to hear “She should’ve stayed invisible. Worked better for her.”

Max stiffened beside you. “Jesus. What is their problem today?”

Warren stood up, indignant. “Hey. Why don’t you back off, Prescott?”

Nathan didn’t even look at him. His eyes were on you and they weren’t blank. They were cold. Icy. “Relax,” he said, tone bored. “Just making an observation.”

“You want me to make one too?” Warren snapped. “Like how you’re always hiding behind Victoria’s designer knockoffs?”

Victoria gasped like she’d been slapped. “Excuse me?”

Max grabbed Warren’s arm. “Not worth it,” she said quietly. You sat disguted. Nathan’s stare found you again. And just before he turned away, he said it not loud, but loud enough. “Better keep your pets on a leash.”

Then he walked off. Victoria followed, heels snapping against the pavement. The rest of the Vortex Club trailed behind them like spoiled royalty. You didn’t finish your lunch. You barely tasted anything after that. Max rubbed your shoulder gently, concern in her eyes. “You okay?”

You nodded. You lied. Because all you could hear was his voice, cold and clean and cutting a thousand miles from the one you’d heard whispering into the phone at 1 A.M. Like none of it had happened. Like you hadn’t happened.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

His eyes met yours, and for the first time all day, he was actually looking at you in the eyes. “Hey,” he said, voice soft.

You didn’t say it back.Instead, you stepped past him and into the room like it was a business meeting. Camera bag down. Laptop open. The wall between you and him went up brick by brick with every breath. “Let’s just get this done,” you said.

He didn’t argue. Just shut the door behind you quietly. You sat at his desk, the screen glow lighting your face. He hovered nearby, watching you scroll through edits like he didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Or maybe like he didn’t know how to say anything at all. “I fixed the lighting on the last three shots,” you said flatly. “Yours were a little overexposed.”

He nodded. “Yeah. You’re better at that stuff anyway.”

You didn’t respond. Just kept clicking. He moved to sit on the edge of his bed, quiet for a while before asking, “Did you still wanna use that photo by the fountain?”

“I already did.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, glanced at you, then away. “You, uh… didn’t answer my text this morning.”

You didn’t look at him. “Didn’t think it needed a reply.”

Nathan nodded, jaw tight. “Right.”

Back to silence. He didn’t bring up what happened. Didn’t ask how you were. And you didn’t bring it up either not how he’d ignored you all day, not how the only time he seemed to be kind was when it was dark out and nobody else could see. Not how you were starting to wonder if this was all he had to give. Just this. Only at night. Only when no one else was looking. You highlighted a paragraph of text and rewrote it. He leaned closer, trying to peek at the screen.

“You’re really good at this,” he said quietly.

You flinched. Not visibly but inside, your bones rattled. It felt like a visceral reaction. You kept your voice neutral. “We’re almost done.”

He didn’t say anything else. You sat there together for another half hour, finishing edits. His bed creaked once when he shifted. You didn’t look. Eventually, you saved the file and stood up.

“That’s everything,” you said. “I’ll print it in the morning.”

Nathan watched you gather your things. “You don’t have to go yet,” he said, almost hesitant.

But you did. if he had just said something, you might understand. Though there isnt enough time in the world to be chasing after rich boy problems he doesnt want to address.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

She left.

Didn’t even look back. Just walked out of the dorm like she couldn’t get out fast enough. Yeah. That felt about right. Nathan stood there like an idiot, hands in his pockets, jaw tight, listening to the door click shut. it was some kind of final answer he didn’t ask for. You don’t have to go yet. He’d said it like a damn loser. Like he didn’t spend the entire day pretending she didn’t exist. she looked at him like he was a goddamn stranger. He sat down on his bed, rubbed at his face, dragged his hands through his hair like it would help. It didn’t. It never did. Everything just kept buzzing. Loud. In his ears, in his chest, like a swarm of flies under his skin. He should’ve said something. Anything. Should’ve told her why he was being weird. Why he was quiet. Why he didn’t even look at her earlier. But how the hell do you say,

Hey, I’m scared you’ll end up in the basement of an abandoned barn if I like you too much?

He laughed. Or choked. One of the two. God, his hands were shaking again. He stood up fast, paced once, twice, kicked his desk chair just to feel something and regretted it immediately. His toe throbbed. Whatever.

He was sweating. Why was he sweating?

He pulled off the red zip up and threw it at the wall. Didn’t stick. Just slumped down like everything else. Jefferson’s voice. Crawling back in like it always did.

“She’s interesting, isn’t she?”

“Got a real… natural quality. Honest.”

“The kind of face that looks good in contrast. You see it, right?”

“She’s got potential.”

Nathan squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

It didn’t help. Jefferson’s voice was calm. Already chosen.He didn’t want that. He didn’t want her anywhere near that world.But what the hell was he supposed to do? Jefferson noticed things. once he noticed, it was over. Nathan dropped back onto the floor, breathing fast now. he’d been running. someone was pressing down on his lungs and wouldn’t stop. He clutched his shirt, pulled at the collar, trying to get air. Trying to slow his thoughts. His heart. Anything. But it wouldn’t fucking slow down.

His vision blurred a little. Pressure in his head, behind his eyes. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek just to stop himself from crying or screaming or both.

He felt like he was going to throw up. Or pass out. Or explode. or all of the above. it all might actually happen. He didn’t know what was worse, the fact that he couldn’t be normal with her… or the fact that when he was, it made him want to protect her more than anything. That protection came with a cost. A choice. A name on a folder.

She didn’t know any of it. And she couldn’t.

until there was a knock at the door.

Nathan didn’t hear it the first time. Not really. Not over the ringing in his ears, or the ragged, frantic way he was trying to breathe. His back hit the wall. He didn’t remember moving. His hands were white knuckled fists against his chest like maybe that would keep it from splitting open.

Another knock.

He blinked. Everything was too bright and too dark at the same time. His name was a whisper behind the door “Nathan?”

Her voice. It hit him like ice water. He squeezed his eyes shut harder, digging his nails into his palms. Not now. Not like this. He couldn’t let her see him like

The door creaked open.

She stepped in fast, muttering under her breath, “God, of course I forgot my charger, that’s just whatever, not like it even ”

She stopped. Frozen. Nathan was on the floor. Slumped against the side of his bed, drenched in sweat, fists clenched so tight they shook. His chest heaved, erratic. Panicked. His face was pale, eyes red rimmed, wide and glassy. All that anger she’d brought with her white hot and ready to crack across the room halted like someone slammed the brakes. Her words died in her throat.

“…Nathan?”

He still didn’t look at her. Just gasped, breath catching hard in his throat, jaw clenched like he was trying not to cry. Or scream. Or both.

Her fingers curled around the charger in her hand. For a second, she stayed rooted to the floor, her heart pounding in her ears. Part of her screamed to turn around and walk away. He deserved that. After everything. Nathan barely registered when she moved closer. He couldn’t even look at her. Just pressed his fists against his temples like that would keep everything from collapsing.

She hovered there for a second, jaw tight, arms crossed. “You’re an asshole,” she muttered. Quiet. Bitter.

He looked like he couldn’t breathe. Cursing under her breath, she dropped the charger on his desk and stepped closer. Her knees hit the carpet slowly, hesitantly, right in front of him. She crouched down between his legs, biting her lip, watching him like he was whipped animal. She didn’t say anything right away. Just reached out, unsure, and carefully took his shaking hand.

Nathan flinched. Then his eyes finally lifted, just a little. Glassy. Bloodshot. Like he didn’t recognize her at first. But he didn’t pull away.

“Jesus…” she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. “Nathan, you’re what the hell is going on with you?”

Still no answer. His fingers twitched in hers, breath still coming fast and shallow, but her hand grounded him. Little by little. Beat by beat. She wanted to yell. She really did. Wanted to scream at him for ignoring her. For looking through her like she didn’t matter. For pushing her away with no reason, no explanation, no damn warning.

Nathan’s breath hitched. His fingers twitched under hers, unsure, but desperate for the anchor. He gripped her hand like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the floor.

“Breathe,” she said, voice flat but steady. “In. Out.”

He tried. God, he tried.

“Again.”

His lungs caught on the exhale, but he followed her voice. One breath. Then another. Her thumb moved gently across his knuckles. She didn’t look at him. He didn’t look at her. They just sat there. Angry. Shaking. Breathing.

“I’m still mad at you,” she said quietly. Just the truth.

All she could do was sit there. Mad. Hurt. Holding onto his hand like it was the only way to keep him from falling apart.

“I’m still pissed at you,” she murmured, after a long, long silence. “But I’m not gonna leave you like this.”

Nathan blinked hard. A tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it. He looked away.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Chloe who has never gotten flowers from anyone else than her dad before you, and she was shocked. Truly astonished. Searched her entire house for a flower vase and ended up with some random big glass she put the bouquet in.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Chloe who at first wasn’t big on physical touch. She wasn’t used to it, since she barely received any affection in her teenage years. But slowly she got used to it- scratch that, she got addicted to it. I can see her being big on PDA, just walking around town with her hand in the back pocket of your jeans or with her arm around your shoulders. She’s gotta show you off.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Chloe who knew she loved you practically from the day she met you, but was too scared and anxious to say it. She was sure the second those words would leave her lips you’d abandon her (like everyone else)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Chloe who wishes she was more crafty than she is, so she could give you something in return for all those handmade gifts you give her. She’d settle on giving you something random and saying ‘it reminded me of you’

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Chloe who is very jealous, but won’t say anything. She’ll just bottle it all up until it explodes in her face. She needs a lot of reassurance, physical and words.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Chloe who likes to do a little guessing game every time you give her a gift that’s wrapped up or in a bag. But she never actually guesses, just says the most random, out of pocket ideas she has.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Chloe who blushes and stumbles over her words whenever you say something sweet or compliment her. She’s an awkward teenager at heart.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Chloe who keeps everything you give her. She has a shoebox under her bed where she puts all of your letters and whatnot. If you bought her some candy she doesn’t like it goes there too, since she doesn’t have the heart to give it away or throw it out.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Chloe who will cuddle up to you and act clingy when she’s high and then deny it all once she sobers up.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Chloe who will never get bored of hearing you talk. She’ll always listen intently and ask questions, no matter what you’re talking about.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Chloe who almost cried when she received her first letter from you. She reread it over and over again, seriously considering framing it and handing it above her bed so she can read it before sleep every night.

Regular Chloe shenanigans occurred, especially during the summertime. You had allll the freedom in the world, and what better to spend it breaking into a pool? Her idea, of course, she was ballsy for kicks. The two of you were down to your underwear, floundering around in the water, floating at points too. But you could swear, her eyes would wonder over your body, staring just a little too long at your breasts; nipples perked due to the cold water. You hadn’t noticed, you didn’t care much either. ‘Just a natural reaction’, you thought. Apparently Chloe just couldn’t help but appreciate the sight.

“Wanna take a picture? It’ll last longer.” You splash her with water, her face flushed, being caught in the act. “Oh shut up, you wear that and I’m supposed to just not look?” She gets out, still all flustered at being called out. “Wear what? It’s just my underwear.” You reply, paddling over. “Don’t see me gawking at yours.” A finger plucks Chloe’s bra strap, pulls it back and releases to smack Chloe. “Hey!” Her hands come to do the same immediately but you swim out of the way. You: 1, Chloe: 0.

Sometime, maybe thirty minutes or so, you plop your wet, pool water soaked body on the edge part of the pool, legs kicking gently in it. Just taking a little break from swimming, a familiar presence is knee-to-knee with you; Chloe, of course. “You’re evil for what you did to me.” She teases, mock-pouting. “You’re such a brat.” You nudge her with your elbow. “Shut up.” Her voice wasn’t in it, she was a bit too busy… getting an eyeful again. Your eyes roll, and you come up with an idea.

Your bra gets thrown off to the side, pretty tits revealed for the whole empty pool to see as well as Chloe. Her jaw is to the pool floor and her eyes are so wide for a second you think they’re bulging out of her damn head. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You repeat, jiggling them a little to taunt. She gulps. “Like, seriously, dude?” Already moving to grab her shitty cracked android. “Hella seriously.” You didn’t give a fuck. “Don’t send it to anyone else, dumbass.” You tell her. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” Chloe wouldn’t, this was allll for herself.

What you didn’t know after that point was the fact that Chloe would go on to use that very picture on her phone as prime jerk-off material. No more lesbian porn with too fake moans and too loud whines; just a single picture of your breasts, wet from pool water and perked from the cold.

You make your way to sneak into her room via her window but you stop, thinking Chloe’s asleep for half a second but then you closely assess her movements under her cover; she’s totally touching herself right now. You’re not gonna barge in and deal with awkward conversation or fuck off back home. So, you decide to stare and watch.

She’s engrossed in that single picture, one hand holds her phone, the other buried under her blanket, you imagine her fingering herself. Her head moves against her pillow, seemingly trying to muffle a moan. God, she really was a sight. Her blanket eventually gets a bit kicked off, her hand still buried in her underwear. Fingers leaving her hole, coated swell in slick, coming to circle her clit. That seems to hit the spot; her eyes squeeze shut, thighs clench and mouth moves in a whine. Damn, while Joyce sleeps in the next few rooms over? She rubs and rubs, finding that good spot until her thighs give that telltale quiver and she goes a little limp in bed. What a sight.

his hair is practically sopping wet, pushed back into a makeshift slick back that reminds you greatly of his blackwell days. you know better than to say that though, tilting your head at him before gesturing to the bed.

“what?” he mumbles, looking at the clean bedding that you had to have done while he was gone. nathan can’t remember the last time he did that himself in this shitty little apartment. “im soaked, don’t be stupid.”

his voice holds no bite as he shrugs off his thick jacket, a carhartt one you had given him all happily when he got his job. you roll your eyes, watching him as he tugs off his shirt to use that as a makeshift towel.

“don’t call me stupid.” you say, faux annoyed with his language. suppressing a laugh as he glances at you unsurely, to make sure you’re not seriously upset at him; only to scoff when he sees you smiling.

“well, who fuckin’ tells someone to get in a bed while soaked.. and dirty.” he adds, scratching his scruffy beard before tossing the shirt aside. it took a while for him to be willingly undressed around you, always forcing himself to stay in his long sleeves and jeans combo. you want to tell him that he’s cute, but he’d probably snap at you about how he’s a grown man. so you refrain.

“is this you soft-launching a shower?” you tease, watching his face scrunch up in response before saying “fuuuhk no.” in a throaty voice. you almost laugh until he glances at you again, narrowing his already squinty eyes even more.

“what’s so funny over there?”

“nothing, nate.”

he glares halfheartedly, changing into a random pair of sweatpants before stalking towards the bed. you can’t resist poking fun at him, “for a man that was insisting he’s too dirty to rest, you sure do seem to be resting.”

he groans as you talk, loudly. slamming his face into the bedding like you’re the impossible one, another thing that reminds you of being teenagers with him. you also bite your tongue on that tidbit, rubbing a hand up and down his shoulder blades until he’s curling his body closer to yours.

nathan’s thick arms wrap around your bent leg, an awkward position for the both of you but he’s far too stubborn to admit that.

“how was work?” you ask after a couple minutes of silence, letting him inhale your leg at the weird position he’s gotten himself in. he barely acknowledges what you say with a grunt, clearly not looking to talk about stupid things like work. “riveting.”

you say dryly, earning yourself a hard pinch on the back of your thigh. you jerk in response to the pain, before hitting him on the side of his head. “what the fuck is wrong with you!” you snap, but all he does is smile in return; how do you get irritated with a man who loves when you’re mean to him.

his arms tighten around both your legs now, preventing you from moving like he already knew what you were going to do. “c’mon, babe, don’t be like that..” he says with a grunt as you squirm around, trying to break free from his hold on principle now.

“you fuckin’ pinched me!” you say, kicking your legs as his arms constrict even more, now beginning to tug you closer and closer to him until he’s able to crawl up your body. he sprawls out atop of you, weight fully pinning you down while his arms move to wrap around your waist.

“you can’t be serious.” you groan, watching as he traps you in a cuddling position. he only hums in satisfaction, clearly pleased with himself. “you’re going to crush me!”

any attempt at making him see reason is met with either a grunt or a hum, his hands sliding under the tank top you’re wearing to rub your sides. calloused and cold fingers against your warm body make you jolt, but any of the previous annoyance has melted away as you lay limp under him. as he knew would happen.

“the fuck do you even use.” he says, eyebrows furrowed as his beard scratches the bare skin of your collarbones. his palms sliding up and down your sides, feeling your skin like it’s a rug he’s going to buy. “is it one of those things you never let me touch?”

“you act like im preventing you from buying your own body scrub.”

he grunts again, ending the conversation stubbornly as he relaxes on you like you’re apart of the bed. you snake your arms around him to cradle him, smiling when his face relaxes into a calm expression; his eyes half lidded, eyebrows lax, and his permanent sneer now a soft smile.

nathan smells like the rain outside and motor oil still, but you don’t even care about the smell seeping onto you and the bed you share. for you, this is some of the best moments of the day. when he’s able to come home after work and be present with you, not thinking about the past or future.

but for him, this is some of the best moments of his life. nobody is watching his every move, judging or scrutinizing him like he believes he deserves. just being able to exist as a person, and not nathan prescott. intimacy shared between the two of you that he was convinced he’d never get, nor deserve.

♬⋆.˚ i imagine you hang out with his friends and more specifically lyla and that's how you met sean. sean sees you talking to lyla and just kind of freezes, after you leave he starts asking lyla all kinds of questions about you. "you know them? how do you know them? when did you meet? what are they into?"

♬⋆.˚ he eventually convinces lyla to invite you to one of their hang outs and you guys have a blast. their duo becomes your trio! sometimes they whisper about you when you either leave the room or your back is turned which.... 😭😭 but it's never anything mean, it's mostly lyla going "dude, stop being so fucking weird!" or "are you gonna talk to them or just stare the whole time?" he shushes her and insists he's gonna talk to you (he doesnt)

♬⋆.˚ one night, you and lyla finally manage to drag him to a party. lyla goes off and starts talking to her other friends and sean just kind of sticks by you. you guys have a couple beers and split a joint outside, talking about nothing and everything in the cool October air. He's mostly just listening, small 'mhm's and 'oh yeah's mumble out of his mouth occasionally. you can't tell if he's really listening or just zoning out to the sound of your voice. he is actually listening, he just doesn't want to interrupt your flow. at some point, you get tired of talking and you sit in heavy silence, passing the weed back and forth between you guys. you're both just in your own heads, thinking about each other. you take a deep breath and just decide to say it, "do you like me?" you said it so casually he almost didn't realize what you meant. he straightens himself in the chair with wide eyes. he stumbles on his words trying to explain, "well i- i uhm... what?" he lets out a pained laugh, looking like he wants to be anywhere but here. "Do you like me?" you'd repeat for him. "it's really fine if you don't, i just.... i don't know, it felt like you liked me too." he just kind of stares at you for a second, "you like me?" he clarifies. "i wouldn't have asked if i didn't." then he smiles, wide and bright like he just won a million dollars. "oh uhh. yeah, yes i do." he grins, looking between his lap and you. now you're both smiling.

♬⋆.˚ ugh he's so awkward and shy at the start of your relationship. he's incredibly hesitant to show any affection with you. he'll side hug you and hold your hand (even when your hands get sweaty, he won't let go until you do). He never really kisses you in public at the beginning but once you guys have gotten more comfortable with each other, he'll give you small pecks. he'd never full on makeout with you in public, he hates couple who do that and he refuses to be one of them

♬⋆.˚ he really likes dates where there's no pressure for him to talk; movies and concerts mainly. he likes movies dates bc its dark and he can just look at you without you noticing, you're focused on the movie anyway, but he loves concert dates. the music, the excitement, jumping and dancing around with you as you both scream the lyrics, what's not to love!

♬⋆.˚ his family knew you before you got together, his dad and daniel both love you! daniel especially liked you, he is always interrupting your alone time. he admires you a lot and is constantly asking you questions. "do you like minecraft? do you like to draw? Can you play with me, sean never does." you always cave and play with daniel while sean lowkey sulks and pouts the whole time (we all saw how he acted in the beginning of episode three when esteban started lecturing him.)

♬⋆.˚ Sleepovers when youre at your house are kinda awkward, he doesnt really know how to act around your family even if theyre really welcoming. He always wakes up before you and if you're at your house he'll just stay in your room (hes scared hell run into a family member and have to make weird small talk) but when you have sleepovers at the diaz house its really fun. Esteban lets you guys close the door and have your alone time, he trusts you guys. daniel on the other hand does not appreciate the privacy his dad has granted you, he's knocking on the door, asking if you guys wanted to watch a movie or telling you dinner is ready or that its time for dessert or just talking about how "dad said i could hang out with you guys". if you watch a movie with him he falls asleep in the middle of it and lays his head on your shoulder (AWW). the next morning when you and Sean are laying in bed, just enjoying each other's embrace daniel will literally burst through the door to tell you breakfast is ready. Sean tell him to get out, he does not. Esteban totally doesn't condone that... nooooo way!!! (yes he does) (he thinks its hilarious and hes constantly teasing you guys)

♬⋆.˚ Daniel likes making you drawing and little gifts, always making sure you never go home empty handed. Sean also makes drawings and little gifts but he never gives them to you unless you beg. He gets really smiley when you compliment his art, if you compliment him enough he'll start to give you drawings a lot more often. I can totally imagine him drawing on birthday cards and in your notebooks. He also draws on you! It also gives him an excuse to touch you so you become his new favorite canvas.

♬⋆.˚ He tried to teach you ride a skateboard if you don't already know, he thinks its pretty cute when you fail a trick and get a little frustrated.

♬⋆.˚ He talks to you in Spanish sometimes specifically if you dont speak it, usually when you're alone and in bed. It's easier for him to express what hes feeling for you that way. If you do speak he'll still confess to you in Spanish, but it's when youre asleep.

♬⋆.˚ Lowkey a bad influence (everybody boo sean!) If you don't already smoke he encourages you to try, cigarettes or weed.... honestly both. Hes always holding the joint to your lips and telling you to take one more hit before he puts it out. He just likes when you guys are too spaced out to be worried about anything. You guys are totally making out when you're high!!! The sweet spot at his house is right after school when esteban is at work and daniel is at his after school program, you get an hour home alone, use it wisely!

♬⋆.˚ He smells very clean, I don't think he uses or buys any cologne or scented soaps, as long as hes clean and wearing deodorant hes alright with it. But if you gift him a cologne he definitely wears it on dates, when you point out how hes wearing it while hugging hello he gets a little flustered and smiles shyly, thanking you again for the gift.

♬⋆.˚ He has really bad abandonment issues. Which neither of you register until your first big fight. You guys never really argue but when you do its pretty bad. After it sits in for a while, sean cries. When you dont speak the next day hes suddenly imagining you leaving and being happier without him like his mom and he panics. He checks his phone to see if you called, you didn't. He checks your socials to see if you posted, you didn't. He feels like he cant breath, so he caves and calls you. He tried to the fact that he had been crying but you can tell. His voice was thick and he kept swallowing harshly. "I'm sorry. I'm really fucking sorry, I don't wanna lose you over something so stupid and pointless." Your heart breaks at his words. "You're not gonna lose me, ever." You'd tell him. "I promise im still here. Please lets just meet up and we'll talk."

♬⋆.˚ you guys constantly have those "you choose" "nah you can pick" fights when it comes to getting food or watching movies, he genuinely cant think of anything when you decide to redirect the question and him so its just back and forth for a while.

♬⋆.˚ hes so good with kids even tho he's kind of awkward around them. He says he doesn't like kids, and he uses daniel as an excuse but if you have any younger siblings or cousins they're just all over him. Great babysitter honestly

Oh these are so fun to make im definitely doing more🥹 okay bye guys, heart emoji!

“Wow…” You mumbled, staring up at one of the many photos on the wall of Nathan’s dorm. They were all black and white, some of them pictured a faceless woman, others were just eerily dark scenes. But they were beautiful. Or maybe you were just too drunk to realize how creepy they were.

“Like that?” Nathan asked, tossing his jacket on the edge of the bed, lighter falling out onto the carpet.

“..Yeah, it’s pretty. They’re all pretty…” You spoke slowly, prying your eyes away. You looked around, going for a plastic bin of discs. You picked one up, and then another. Glancing at the rest in the container. “Aren’t these movies borderline just gore?”

He glared at you, pulling the movies from your hand and dropping them back in the bin.“Quit touching shit — didn’t invite you in here for that.” He grabbed the back of your shirt, making you raise back up. “..They aren’t bad movies. Acting’s good.” He grumbled.

“Oh, right…sorry..” You apologized. You didn’t mean to be so nosy.

“..Whatever. You said you’d model for me, so let’s get on with that.”

“I did..?”

“Yeah..” Nathan Lied. “You promised like 5 minutes ago.” He grabbed his camera, fixing the settings before hanging it around his neck. You didn’t remember exactly saying that..but you supposed you did. You had always wanted to be a model, just never thought you could be. So you stuck yourself to art. Painting and drawing others and things. “Ready to start?”

“Uh..yep. Just..tell me what to do i guess.” You gave him two awkward thumbs up, hands quickly folding in front of you.

“Well, for starters, relax..” He spoke in an unusual soft tone. “I can give you something to help if you need it.”

You assumed he meant more alcohol, which made you feel sick. So you declined, letting him guide you to the bed. “No thank you..”

“Your loss.” Nathan sat you down, stepping back. He stared at you, brows furrowed harshly. Your skin started to warm, though you couldn’t tell if it was the amount you had to drink or the way he was making you feel. “I’m gonna pose you..don’t worry about a thing. Just relax.”

His hands felt calming when they touched you, pulling your knees up to your chest. Similar to how you were sat earlier outside, your back against his bed frame. “Am i allowed to see them after you’re done?” You asked, eyeing him as he grabbed something from his drawer. A pair of metal handcuffs. Surely you should get up and leave now, but you didn’t.

He grabbed your hands, locking the cuffs on each wrist. “Sure..only if you listen though.” He smiled, making your hands dangle off your knees. Then the flash of the camera came. The first few making you jump and your eyes water, then you got used to it.

By the third pose, you felt funny. Like this was wrong, yet he looked happy. Like he was enjoying himself, it was cute. Until the fourth pose. You were laid flat on your stomach, legs raised behind you and your arms out in front. You rested your head on them, blinking wearily before your eyes simply shut. You were expecting more blinding flashes, but they never came. You opened your eyes, finding Nathan staring at you.

It wasn’t the same as he did a little bit ago, it wasn’t concentration. He looked sad, upset, dreary. “Nathan..?” He blinked, face hardening again.

“..We’re done here.” He huffed, unlocking the cuffs and throwing them on the floor. Wow, that was a mood shift, you thought.

“What’s wrong? are you okay..?”

He rolled his eyes, body tense. “Yeah i’m fucking peachy. Just get out of my room.”

“Alright, ‘m going.” You whispered, grabbing your shoes. “Have a good night, Nathan..”

You walked back to your dorm shoeless, your heels swaying from your fingers with each wobbly step. You don’t know what you did to upset him, or if it was even you that it did. You didn’t have the mental strength to analyze it right now.