Nate Maloley imagines

take care.

Request: Could you do a Nate imagine where y/n and him are fighting and he gets really angry and she gets scared because of her past relationship experiences?

trigger warning: mentions of abuse

I don't know how we got to this point. Everything was absolutely perfect the first few months: blissful, fun, and carefree. We were happy. Then we had our first big fight. Since then, it seems like it's all we've done. It was scary, but every time we made up, that negativity flew from my mind. I never really knew if we were going to be okay, yet I still find myself pining after this boy.

It's been a while since our last fight, but I could feel some sort of tension coming from Nate. I didn't know why, seeing as I've been busting my ass to make sure things were okay between us. I was trying my hardest to keep this relationship together.

I was now doing dishes while waiting for him to come home from the studio, listening to music when I heard the front door open.

"This place is a fuckin' mess." I heard, cringing. I was hoping to get all the chores done before he came home. A few moments passed before he finally entered the kitchen. "Sup, babe?"

"Hi, how was the session?" I questioned, not bothering to face him since I was washing the dishes.

"We went hard as fuck. Then Rupp took us to this guy's house, and we talked about music videos and shit. Man, those video girls, too." He gushed. I only sighed, because I knew if I said anything, we'd end up in a fight again. Unfortunately, he wasn't having the same intentions. "What's that sigh for?"

"Nothing." I said as calmly as possible.

"Don't give me that shit. What you sighin' for, Y/N?"

"I'm just tired." I brushed it off, but he wouldn't have it. I heard the screech of the chair as he got up and stood beside me and leaned against the counter.

"Then why are you doing dishes? Go to bed or something." I glanced at him for a quick second before shaking my head.

"If I don't do the dishes, you'll be complaining about the smell tomorrow or something. There's always something wrong that I have to fix."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" I gave him a look. Sometimes he was so oblivious while doing the absolute most. He rose his eyebrows as he waited for an answer, and I had to try not to roll my eyes.

"It means that I've been doing all the work around here lately, just to satisfy you." The words came out a little more forceful than I intended, so I avoided eye contact with him until he spoke up.

"Well nobody's asking you to do a goddamn thing, so it's your fault."

"Oh, it's my fault? My fault that you get angry when something isn't clean, or something isn't organized? My fault that I'm just trying to keep you happy?" I was getting angrier by the second, surprisingly, while he stayed lighthearted, and it bothered me like no other. He just laughed it off.

"Yeah, it sort of is. Like I said, no one asked you to do that shit. You're just busting your ass for no reason."

"Nate!" I burst in utter frustration. "Why are you doing this? You're being a fuckin' dickhead." And there's the spark. So he'll get angry over a dumb nickname but not anything else? Logical.

"I'm being a dickhead? I'm just trying to help you out! You look so goddamn tired all the time, and all I'm saying is that you don't need to work around the house so much." I had to focus on the dishes just to restrict myself from choking him. This wasn't even the main point.