Werewolf Adoption Book Bundle E-Book

A.B. Darling Little

• Herausgeber: Boruma Publishing
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

In this complete Werewolf Adoption Bundle, innocent, hapless young women are adopted by Alpha Werewolves and given the best care possible. Here, you will find steamy short stories involving ABDL with Werewolf caretakers who are all-too-eager to show them their place.

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

Excerpt from Reluctantly Rescued: 

Elly wakes up feeling adrift and not at all like herself. The first sign that things aren't normal is that she can move around freely. 

She looks around, trying to find Daddy. He doesn't like leaving her alone for very long, so she knows he'll be close. The more she looks, the more she panicked she gets because there are many people moving about and none of them is her Daddy. Her eyes fill with tears and she curls her knees up against her chest. She resists the urge to suck her thumb in her mouth because she doesn't know if her thumb is clean and Daddy gets upset when she does it.

"Hello," one of the older nurses walk over to her side, the skin between her brow furrowing when she looks at her. "How're you feeling, darling?" she asks.

Daddy says she shouldn't talk to strangers, but if she doesn't talk to her, she won't be able to help her find her Daddy. "Where's Daddy?" she asks, her voice a little shrill and panicked because she's feeling a little panicked. Her heart is beating very quickly.

"Your father's not here," she says kindly. "Do you remember how you got here?"

She shakes her head and curls up tighter. The last thing she remembers is going out for a walk with Daddy for their weekly walk and then running into one of his friends. She doesn't like John. He is always looking at her like there's something wrong with her.

"You were rescued," she says. "Someone remembers seeing your missing poster and rescued you from your kidnappers."

"Rescued?" she echoes, her voice shrill and child-like. It makes the nurse cringe and she doesn't feel any better for having said it in the first place. The word feels weird on her tongue, feels wrong. She didn't- she doesn't need rescuing. She's happy with Daddy. She remembers how terrible her life was before Daddy came along and took care of everything for her.

"Yes," she says and her enthusiasm is fast waning, like Elly isn't what she had expected and she's fast losing interest. Elly doesn't blame her. She had been invisible before her Daddy found her too.

Daddy sees her though. Daddy sees her all the time and takes care of her and makes sure she's always warm and her tummy is always full and he gives the best hugs. She misses him. She wishes he was there. "Where's Daddy?" she asks again, hopeful that she'll get it if she repeats it enough times even though a part of her remembers that's not how things work around here. Here, everything needs payment. Everything's a transaction.

The lines on her forehead grows deeper. "Why don't you wait here? I'll go get the officer handling your case," she says, dismissing her with a pat on her knee that Elly successfully flinches away from so she doesn't touch her.

Daddy doesn't like it when other people touch her. He's a werewolf and has a very powerful sense of smell. He'll be able to smell if someone's touched her.

Leseprobe

Werewolf Adoption

Werewolf Adoption Book Bundle

Copyright 2019 A.B. Darling Little

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. No part in this book may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, or distributed without permission of the author or publisher.

Warning:

The steamy short stories in this bundle contains age regression, diaper-use, humiliation, werewolf knotting, sex toys, double penetration, lactation/milking, come inflation, and various other steamy acts.

This bundle contains:

Caretaker

Delia works a job where she is unappreciated and underpaid. Her social life is nonexistent, her career is a joke, and to top it all off, her apartment is haunted.

She's a human in a world owned by Werewolves and it's impossible for her to fit in unless she embraces the lifestyle that werewolves have deemed suitable for fragile humans such as herself. There are a group of werewolves who think of her as precious, as something to be treasured and taken care of, bundled up in swaddles and fed from bottles. Werewolves who wants to take her and fill her, use her body in every way imaginable.

She doesn't think it's the life for her, but life has other ideas…

Start Reading Here

Sweet Little

Jason's an Alpha Werewolf without a Little. Like most wolves, he wants someone to love,  he wants someone he can baby. So, he goes to one of those facilities where they regress humans into Littles and adopt a sweet, eighteen-year-old human for himself.

Anya is a petite Little who's new to the system and needs a little more training to make her just the perfect fit of him. He coddles her when she's good, but when she misbehaves... there's a spanking waiting.

Start Reading Here

Crybaby

Olivia wakes up seeing an unfamiliar ceiling and lying in an unfamiliar bed. The last thing she remembers is celebrating her eighteenth-birthday and now she's wrapped up in a swaddle and sucking on a dummy. There must have been something that's happened in between, but she doesn't remember any of it. Then, an Alpha walks into the room and picks her up and she does the one thing she's best at and starts crying.

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Reluctantly Rescued

Elly is happy with her life. She enjoys waking up from in her crib, having her nappy changed and then being held in a warm pair of arms as she is being fed from a milk bottle. She loves how safe and comforted she feels. Here, she is loved.

So, when she wakes up one day in a hospital and is told by the police in uniform that she has been 'saved from those dreadful werewolves and their sick fantasies', she's understandably confused and adamant on getting herself back home.

Meanwhile, Werewolf Alpha is on a rampage to get his pup back where she belongs - by his side.

Start Reading Here

Werewolf Adoption 1

Caretaker

Copyright 2019 A.B. Darling Little

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. No part in this book may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, or distributed without permission of the author or publisher.

Warning:

This steamy short story contains age regression roleplay with an eighteen-year-old young woman willingly submitting to wearing and using a diaper and being filled by a werewolf Alpha. It also contains scenes of knotting, come inflation, adult in diaper, adult baby, feeding, public humiliation, groupsex, and double penetration.

Look Inside

"Are you hungry, baby?" he asks, reaching back to comb a hand through her hair. "Shh... don't panic. That's just for now, until you get used to your new life. I'm not going to hurt you, baby girl."

Yeah, right. He's hurting her right now by kidnapping her against her will! She hopes she can convey her anger through her glare. She's probably failing miserably because he's still gazing at her with a kind of fond look people give to cats doing amusing things. She works herself up into mild panic as the car continues to move forward and she remains trapped, strapped down by leather belts around her torso to keep her from moving.

Tears begin to trail down her cheeks and she's hiccupping and chewing on the pacifier messily, finding comfort in the sucking motion, hands clenching and relaxing so that she feels like she's doing something.

Maybe she'll get lucky and they'll get stopped by the police. He can't just take her off the streets like that! She has rights too! Less rights than normal people, but still! An ugly voice inside whispers that it wouldn't matter who sees them. They're just going to find a stubborn, misbehaving Baby and her new werewolf Daddy.

Tanya warned her to be careful if she went to the bar, but she probably didn't think that Delia would be kidnapped off the streets like this! No one's going to come looking for her. Tanya could go to the police, but no one's going to care enough to do anything about it.

"Wait there, baby. Daddy's going to stop the car and get you something to eat, okay?" he says and clicks the turn signal on before stopping the car at the side of the road.

Her heart pounds painfully against her chest when he gets out of the car and then he's opening to door to her right and tugging her, seat and all, towards the edge. For one terrifying second, she thinks he's going to yank her straight out of the car and drop her and she would be helpless to do anything as he drives away, but he stops at the edge and peers down at her with a terrifying amount of fondness. A gust of wind blows cold air into the car and she shivers.

"Don't cry, baby girl," he says, wiping the tears from her cheeks with a napkin and then discreetly patting the bottom of her chin to clean her spit as he pulls away. "Daddy's going to take care of everything for you now, okay?"

Not okay. Definitely not okay! She has a life, friends- okay well, one friend and a joke of a life, but it's hers all the same and she's not ready to give it all up.

He ignores her whimpered protests and leans down to brush his fingers against her cheek.

She kind of hates herself a little for leaning into it, chasing the warmth that his palm provides. "Sweet little thing," he coos. "The milk's not very hot now, but it's probably still a little warm?" he reaches past her into a bag beyond her line of sight and retrieves a hot water bottle that he empties into another cup with expert ease. He caps it shut and then reaches a hand towards her.

She flinches away, a whimper slipping out before she can stop it. Her eyes shut and she turns her head into the soft sheet beneath her cheek, trembling uncontrollably.

"Shh... Shh... Don't be frightened, baby. Daddy's just picking you up so you can drink easier," he says.

There's a long pause before she registers that she's being cradled against a firm chest, the werewolf tall and strong enough to hold her with one arm around her bum and part of her upper thigh. It's harder and harder to breathe and she realizes she's not inhaling properly, gasping against the pacifier without getting enough air into her lungs.

He fiddles with something on the back of her head and suddenly the pacifier falls away. She gasps great gulps of air as the man makes soft, cooing noises and settled her firmly against his chest.

"Shh... It's alright. Daddy's here now. Everything's going to be alright." He rubs her back in big gentle circles that reminds her of something oddly familiar. Even then, it takes a little while before her body starts to calm down and she's left shaking and embarrassed. She's not a child. She doesn't need to be comforted like this. "Daddy knows it's a lot and you're scared, but it's going to be perfect. Don't worry about anything, darling. Daddy's going to take care of everything for you from now on. Daddy didn't mean to scare you. It's alright. Everything's alright."

Prologue

Delia is eighteen years old and she knows ghosts don't exist so she knows her apartment isn't haunted. A tiny voice in the back of her mind whispers that it could very well be why the apartment had dropped into her lap like that, but she pushes it back stubbornly.

She's been eighteen for exactly two days when she's kicked out of the orphanage with barely enough money to get dinner, let alone a place to stay, but the landlady had been very nice. Suspiciously nice. The old lady had told her that she can stay here and in exchange she could get some work done. Nothing too complicated, of course. Delia just need to help with the cleaning crew every weekday. She gets an allowance of two hundred dollars a week too. She thinks it's a fair trade. Two hundred dollars doesn't get her much, but it keeps food on her table, and she'll have a roof over her head.

Except it's only her first night here and she hears the windows rattling, the walls creaking. She hears the wind blowing against the rooftop and footsteps outside the door even though no one's supposed to share this floor with her.

The walls are thin, she tells herself. This neighborhood is a cheap one and it's only makes sense that the walls aren't soundproof.

It's not a big deal.

She gets up half a dozen times before midnight and checks to make sure the doors and windows are locked.

She can't help but feel as though she's being watched.

Delia is only human, a rare thing in this day and age where everyone's looking for the werewolf bite in exchange for the prolonged life and superhuman senses. She thinks there's nothing wrong with being human, especially since she doesn't think she'll amount to anything more than a cleaner. An enhanced sense of smell isn't going to help her there.

She buries her head under the blankets and tells herself there's nothing there even though she fee's someone there, someone watching and waiting.

Only babies believe in monsters and she's- she's most definitely not a baby. She makes herself breathe calmly under the blanket and count backwards from a hundred.

Ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven, ninety-six, ninety-five-

There's someone in her room with her. She's sure of it.

She wishes she was back in the orphanage. The thought takes her by surprise because she hated it there. She had to share her room with twenty other kids her age and the bathroom is always taken. They're mostly werewolves and they push her around a lot, bully her into doing chores that they don't want to do.

She wants to cry, curling up in the bed with her head hidden. She falls asleep eventually, but only because she's exhausted.

Chapter One: Bad Decisions

Two hundred dollars a week is not enough. Not two days into Winter with a heater that doesn't work, she caves and buys one that manages to push her electricity bill so high up that the additional charges swallow up almost all of the money she's earned by the end of the first week.

The landlady, whom she thought was kind and helpful, had shown her true colors not one week into her new accommodations when she decided that electricity and water has to be billed separately, and if she doesn't do a 'good enough job' cleaning the apartments, she can dock it out of her weekly salary. She ended up with only fifty bucks that first week.

To top it all off, she barely has enough to eat and has to go to sleep hungry more than a few nights of that first week. Going to sleep is another problem altogether. She never gets rid of that feeling she got that first night, like someone's watching, waiting to pounce. She feels on edge all the time, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or maybe it's dropped already and she's just too dense to know it.

Nothing else is working the way she wants it to. It won't surprise her if her apartment is actually haunted and the ghost is just biding it's time. She doesn't remember the last time she slept without that sensation of eyes on her.

It's really not fair too. The only reason why her apartment gets so cold is because she's on the highest floor and the windows don't close properly no matter what she does. It's why her heater has to be cranked up so high for her to feel a difference. The other rooms don't have problem staying warm. It's another obvious reason why she managed to get the room almost free of charge.

It doesn't feel like a blessing now.

Every night she goes to bed, the hair on the back of her neck rises, and she feels as though there's someone just outside the window, someone watching her as she tries to sleep. Even with the blanket wrapped tightly all the way up to her head, hiding her body in it's entirety, she feels watched.

It's crazy.

She tells herself she's just paranoid because she's not used to being on her own. She's not used to the silence that surrounds her apartment, the lack of whispered conversation in the night between the girls in the orphanage, the snores that both annoy her and lulls her into sleep.

Sleep would be harder if she isn't working so hard and her limbs doesn't feel like jelly at the end of the way.

When she does sleep, she feels as though she's floating. Her dreams are always the same.

She had been having the same dream for many nights in a roll and tonight is no different.

It begins with her blanket being pulled away from the top of her head so she's able to breathe. Instead of feeling cold from not being cocooned in her own body heat, a hand rests on her cheek, cradling her face and keeping her warm. That's how she knows she's dreaming. Normal people aren't that warm. And the touch is kind, gentle. She doesn't feel like she's in danger.

She tries to open her eyes, but her lids are too heavy. She smells something nice, a pleasant fragrance scent that drives her deeper into her comforts of her own mine. The blanket is pulled back a little more and then she feels a dip in the bed as though a second weight is introduced to it.

"Sleep tight, baby girl," a warm voice murmurs.

Soft words are whispered in her ear as she's touched everywhere, warm palms all over her skin, but not in a sexual manner, like someone's just exploring the feeling of skin to skin. She doesn't feel violated. There's the same sense of calm encompassing her that makes her want to relax into the touch so she does, sighing into the hands tugging her shirt up and warm palms on her waist.

The most peculiar thing to happen during the dreams and the reason why she knows she's dreaming is the sensation of something soft and rubbery being pushed past her lips. The same gentle voice tells her to "suck, baby. That's it. Good girl..."

She doesn't get praises very often. She's never been called a 'good girl' before, so maybe it's just her subconscious satisfying some sort of need for her to be complimented or something and she knows she goes to bed hungry, so it only makes sense for her to dream about being fed.

When she wakes the next morning, her mouth feels a little wet and she forgets the dream in it's entirety except for the sensation of someone else in the room with her.

She doesn't have enough for breakfast, but oddly enough, she doesn't feel too starved too. Maybe it's her body tricking her into being full.

If it weren't for Tanya, who she's been working with during the first two weeks, she would've gone hungry through the day. At twenty-eight, Tanya is ten years older than her and is a werewolf. She gets why she's there the first day, when Tanya admitted that cleaning other people's bedrooms and bathrooms for the past several months had been torture.

Her work is easy enough. She changes and washes the sheets, cleans the toilets, scrubs the floors and wipes down table tops, all with the blissful ignorance that is only afforded to humans such as herself. Werewolves can smell everything, Tanya admits with an annoyed scrunch of her nose like she's smelling something particularly foul right this instant.

Tanya's an interesting friend. She had gotten the bite when she was thirteen after her parents had paid an exorbitant amount of money to an Alpha. Bitten werewolves are considered second-class citizens, only slightly better than humans. It's why Tanya's the only person who talks to her around here. Though that could also be because she's working with Tanya and the other employees have different places to clean.

They don't talk to Tanya either.

Tanya shares lunch with her sometimes.

"I can literally smell starvation on you," Tanya says. "You should do what I do."

"I don't know what you do, Tanya," she reminds her gently.

The werewolf grins mischievously. She hasn't told Delia how she makes her money. She knows Tanya doesn't make much more than herself, but the woman somehow always have enough. Just the other day, she saw her wearing a gold wristwatch. It looks masculine, but expensive. When Delia asked her how she got it, she quickly hid it in her pockets and said something about winning it off some loser.

Delia hopes Tanya isn't a thief. She doesn't look like one but Delia knows enough about the world to know that things aren't always as they seem.

"Even if I tell you, you can't join me," Tanya says. "You look like you're twelve."

Delia's mouth opens and closes a few times. What's that got to do with anything? Unless her being underage is the problem and- Oh god. Is her friend a prostitute? Before she can stop herself, her mouth moves and she blurts, "Are you fucking people for money?"

Tanya chokes on her chow mien and takes a few gulps of water. Afterwards, she glares at Delia with her hand rubbing her chest. "I'm not a fucking whore!" she says.

She lets out a sigh of relief. "Okay," she says, and then quickly adds, "Not that there's nothing wrong with being a prostitute." She doesn't want to insult her only friend.

Tanya's laugh is rambunctious, echoing down the empty hallways and making Delia feel slightly out of place. "I know, Delia. A prostitute. Jesus," she says. "You can't get into that sort of profession nowadays without a permit anyways."

Right. Delia knew that. She actually looked into prostituting when she was rooming with the girls in the orphanage. They were curious and wanted to know everything. It didn't seem too bad. The pay is pretty good and it looks like a human like her could get some very interesting clients, especially if she's.... open-minded. Some werewolves liked having lovers who could wear their marks on their skin without healing immediately.

Getting a permit required more money than she had, though. She needed a sponsor and she doesn't know anyone.

"I gamble," Tanya blurts out, interrupting her wayward thoughts.

"What?"

"Well, it's not exactly gambling, but I go to the pub sometimes and play with the guys. They buy me drinks and then we play pool and bet money," she says. "I'm very good at winning," she admits, a little abashed.

"You must be," Delia says, awed.

She shrugs. "I've been playing pool since I was legal," she says. "It's why I didn't tell you. I wasn't trying to keep you from stealing my business, but you can't drink," she sounds apologetic. "If you can't drink, you can't get into a bar and you won't be able to win a game even if you got in, being human and all. You don't have the right reflexes," she continues.

It hurts to have the truth laid out like that. She knows she's inferior but it still feels bad to be reminded so carelessly.

"Anyways, that's my big secret. I only have enough money cause I'm good at playing pool. Nothing fancy."

Delia doesn't know what to say, so she doesn't say anything at all. She's curious, though.

Her hamartia is the fact that she can't leave things well enough alone. Delia asks her which bar she goes to.

Tanya rolls her eyes but tells her which bar she goes to. "They're not going to let you in, doll. You're too tiny."

She huffs. "I'm not tiny." Saying she can't do it is just another way to challenge her.

Chapter Two :Attack

The guy at the door takes one look at her and laughs.

"Come back in ten more years, pup," he says and crosses his arms at the door to stop her from sneaking her way in. Her lower lip juts out and she pouts for a second before she accepts that she's not getting in through the front door. She knows she looks younger than her age, but to be dismissed so completely wounds her a little bit. She's short and petite, but she has breasts and she like to think she looks pretty hot. Maybe she can sneak in through the back?

She's trying to find the side entrance when a gruff voice asks, "What're you doing?"

She twists around and sees the man leaning against the wall, smoking something vile. She can't see him that well in the dark, but the way his eyes shine makes her think werewolf instantly. "Nothing," she answers automatically.

He steps forward and into the light and she sees the apron tied to his hips, stained yellow from grease. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing out here on your own? You got a Daddy somewhere?"

She grimaces at the question, knowing he means Daddy with a capital 'D'. Some humans have their own caretakers now. A surprising number of werewolves are into that lifestyle where they adopt fully grown humans and take care of them like they're infants. She doesn't understand why and she never bothered looking into it. Right now though, she thinks having a Daddy means protection so she nods. "Yeah," she says quietly, averting her eyes and hoping he can't hear the lie in her voice.

"Where's your Daddy then? Did you run away, puppet?"

She thinks of the right way to answer that question and hesitates for too long.

"Try again, puppet. You don't smell much like wolf. You don't have a Daddy, do you? You don't even have a mate, smelling clean and pretty like that. I reckon you're a virgin." He's moving closer and closer to her as he talks.

Her breath hitches as her back hits the cold wall.

"What's a little thing like you trying to get into a bar, hm?" he asks. "Trying to get a drink?"

She shakes her head, too stunned to lie.

"Not drink?" he asks, then leans forward and breathes in deep, taking in her scent and everything that comes with it. "Something to eat then? You smell hungry."

It's really unfair how werewolves can take one sniff of her and know so many things about her that she's not willing to share.

"You hungry, puppet? Do you need money?"

"I-" she starts. "No," she whispers. She's backed against the wall with nowhere to go and he's standing too close for her to do anything. "I changed my mind. I think I'd just like to leave now," she says.

"I've got money if that's what you need," he says and reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet. He has two twenties in it. "Want it?"

She frowns, wondering if it's charity or something, but then he's leering at her in a way that makes the hair on the back of her neck stand on edge and she gasps. "No! I don't- That's not!" she startles. This was a terrible idea. She peers over his shoulder out at the street, hoping to make a run for it.

She doesn't even manage to get two steps away before he catches her.

"No take backs, puppet," he says and grabs her by her neck, slamming her into the brick wall. Her head swims painfully as the man presses against her. He's big enough to pin her with his weight and her head is muddled from the blow. She feels a hand groping her through her jeans.

The man breathes in with his nose pressed against her neck.

"Sweet and innocent. You're really a virgin, ain't ya?" he growls, fangs elongating, saliva dripping down her neck.

She hopes that if he kills her, he'll make it quick. She feels his teeth on her skin for a second, and then he's gone. She blinks, confused, and turns around only to have someone else pin her against the wall again, one hand on her forehead to keep her head from hitting the wall, the palms large and warm enough to close her eyes.

"Shh... Shh... You're alright, baby. Don't cry. Daddy's here," he coos, his words ending on a growl, an ominous rumble that fills the entire alleyway and into the night.

"Daddy?" It's meant to be a question. She's confused about why he's referring to himself like that, but the way her voice trembles and her body sunk against him makes him stiffen and stand taller. There's something oddly familiar about the stranger pinning her to the wall. She knows it's insane, but instead of feeling frightened, feeling terrified, she felt- she felt safe.

"Yes, baby?" he responds as though she had called out for him.

It takes her a second for her to make the connection between what she had said and his response, and when it clicked, she blushes so brightly that her cheeks feel like they're on fire. "I didn't- I didn't mean-" she starts, heat going to her cheeks and down her chest. She had always flushed so easily. She didn't mean to call him 'Daddy'.

"I was going to wait a little longer," he says, so close to her that she can feel the warmth of his chest on her back. "But I suppose now is as good a time as any."

She doesn't have any time to ask him what he means because his other hand comes around to close around her mouth. She gets a whiff of something fragrance and sweet, and then her eyes close.

Against all odds, she falls asleep.

Chapter Three: Feeding

Delia is startled awake as the car she is seated in dips into a pothole, the suspension of the car not quite powerful enough to keep her from feeling airborne for a second. Her eyes open and she's met with a pair of blue eyes looking at her fondly from the rearview window.

"Are you awake, baby? I'm sorry. Go back to sleep. We still have long drive before we reach home."

Home? She glances out through the window and gapes for a second because all she sees is green. The landscape of trees and grass as far as her eyes can see and it's so, so bright outside. "Wuh-" she starts, only to notice that there's something strapped to her mouth, keeping her from talking. It's the same thing in her dream, small and rubbery between her teeth. She starts sucking on it before her brain manages to catch up with what her reflex is going automatically, except there's no milk from this.

The man beams at her from the front seat and she realizes she's sucking on a pacifier willingly.

She stops immediately and tries to spit it out, but the strap securing it around her head makes it impossible for her to push it out with her tongue. The only thing she manages to do is push saliva out of her mouth, trickling down her chin an onto- She looks down and sees a bib tied around her neck. It's only then that she begins to panic, struggling to free herself to find that her hands have been wrapped in a mitten of sorts, one without thumbs to keep her from getting a good grip of the buckle of the seatbelts holding her in. She can't turn or twist around properly too, the belts coming from four corners of the bucket-like seat that she's strapped in, locking her thighs in position and coming from her shoulders down to the top of her belly button, all of them interlinking together in a complicated lock to keep her from moving about.

She feels weak, like she's still dreaming. Btu she knows she's not. She's strapped in a moving vehicle with a stranger. Oh god, she's been kidnapped.

"Baby, stop struggling. I don't want you to hurt yourself," the man says.

"A- ahh-" she opens her mouth and tries to argue but all the comes out are unintelligible words. It's terrible. The man slows the car and turns his head to look at her. There's no one else on the road with them or she would worry a lot more about him not paying attention to where he's driving.

He's stupidly, ridiculously hot. She's terrified out of her mind but she's not blind. "Baby, you need to relax or Daddy's going to have to stop the car and give you some icky medicine."

She's- she's eighteen. She doesn't need to be medicated like some misbehaving child. And you're not supposed to medicate misbehaving children! And he's not her Daddy! There are so many things wrong with this.