#i'm going to shut up about this eventually. trust me.

[c0smicfern]

i say i'm just like harry du bois, but, apparently, i'm actually just like *checks notes* will byers, tina belcher, and viktor hargreeves.

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[leneemusing]

A FEW VARIOUS SENTENCE STARTERS

❝ i wouldn't find the need to tell you 'i told you so' if you weren't so allergic to admitting i'm right. ❞

❝ there are better hills to die on but i find this one quite comfortable. ❞

❝ would you come with me please? i adore your company. ❞

❝ that's not the worst thing i've ever heard but it's certainly up there. ❞

❝ i would love to help you but i'm afraid i'm suffering from a terrible case of 'it's not my problem.' ❞

❝ could you just think about anyone other than yourself for once? ❞

❝ i'm not going to stand here and argue with you about how much you need to get some rest. if i find you passed out on the floor i'm leaving you there. ❞

❝ would you be a dear and shut the hell up. ❞

❝ i know i need help but i'm not quite ready to ask for it. ❞

❝ do you know where we're going or are we just trying to get lost now? ❞

❝ i have confided this in you, please do not betray that trust. ❞

❝ do you like it here? with me? ❞

❝ are you still happy? with me, i mean. with us. ❞

❝ i didn't lie, i simply presented a selective truth. ❞

❝ do you actually like spending time with me? because i feel like all you do is argue. ❞

❝ one of us will eventually have to have the strength to be honest with ourselves about each other. ❞

❝ i want to tell you something i just need a moment to figure out the right words. ❞

❝ if you were the religious type i would challenge god to win your devotion. ❞

❝ don't tell me to quit being melodramatic it's the only time i have any fun. ❞

❝ were you ever going to tell me or were you just going to make me guess what you're thinking and feeling. ❞

[natasharswifey]

Happy birthday, by the way 🎂

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: After a few months of dating, you realise you don't know when Nat's birthday is. She isn't interested in celebrating, and when you ask, she refuses to tell you. But you are very determined.

____☆____

A/N: This is just a little fluff, also my first x reader fic. Love reading em so I thought I'd give it a go :3. Also I find it hard to read Y/N as my name so I'm using [...] instead!

Tags: Just fluff <3

____☆____

"Oh, come on, why won't you just admit it?"

"Because I can't deal with you inviting half of the United States to the tower for a party."

"Exaggeration."

Natasha raises a brow at you. "Oh really? And what about he time you put flyers around about Wanda's party?"

"She was turning 21!"

She gives you a 'really?' look and you know you aren't getting anything out of her. It just didn't make any sense, birthdays were the one day a year where it was all about you. Well that's everyday if you're Tony Stark, but for well functioning members of society it should count as the best day of the year.

"I will not be disclosing that information until I can trust you not to make a huge deal."

"What if I pinky promise?"

"You always overdo it, detka, it's just how you are." She plants a small kiss on your forehead and leaves you on the couch to begin plotting.

___♡___

"And then she said 'you always overdo it', give me a break!"

Wanda looks up from the pot she's stirring and chuckles, "I didn't know half the people the showed up at the tower on my 21st, [.....]"

"I knew I should've gone to Tony, he would get this."

"I don't think asking the most flamboyant Avenger would be very helpful in this situation."

"Right."

"I think you should just leave it, she'll probably tell you eventually." She gently taps a bit of salt into the pot.

"Or..."

"No."

"You didn't even hear me out!"

"I can read minds. It's a terrible idea."

"Firstly, reading Nat's mind to figure out her birthday is literally a flawless plan, and secondly, you're good reading my mind and not hers?"

"Natasha already set her boundaries with me, and plus I don't feel like getting my ass kicked for aiding and abetting."

"Thanks a lot Wands."

"Any time."

If Wanda wasn't going to cooperate then you were simply going to have to enlist the help of a certain blonde assassin.

___♡___

You hear Lucky and Fanny barking hysterically after you ring the doorbell, followed by fast paced footsteps and a small "One minute" from the other side of the door.

Usually a simple question would only warrant a text or phone call, but for some reason Yelena NEVER answers her phone. Unless it's from Kate of course, you're half convinced that she has a special ringtone and notification for her.

It's none other than the archer that answers the door, "Hey, [.....]! I didn't know you were coming over."

"I've actually dropped in unannounced, but I won't stay too long." You reassure her. Kate has a habit of forgetting things, including scheduled hang outs and honestly everything else that isn't attached to her body.

"Come on in!" She steps out of the way and shuts the door behind both of you.

You're immediately greeted by the two large dogs, fighting over your attention in a confusion of wagging tails and paws. Kate tries to get them under control and ultimately fails until they're distracted by Yelena calling them.

"That's totally not fair, they only listen to you." Kate complains and Yelena laughs.

"Because they love me more."

"Lies and deception!" Kate is soon distracted by the golden retriever pulling at her sleeve and gives Yelena a smug look before pouring all of her attention to him.

"Hey, Yelena."

"Hello, [......]. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Uh, I actually had a quick question. When's Natasha’s birthday?"

"Ah. I do not know."

"What?? But you're sisters!"

She shrugs, "She does not want me to know. Birthdays are not really Natasha’s thing, surely you must know that."

"Yeah, I know, it just doesn't make any sense."

"That's Natasha for you."

You sigh in defeat and sit down on one of the armchairs, your lap immediately occupied by Fanny who still wholeheartedly believes she's the size of a puppy.

"Well, there is someone else you could ask."

Your ears perk up, "Who?"

"Melina."

Ah. Melina. It wouldn't be fair to say that she hated you, but it also would be lying to say that she was fond of you. Perhaps you could ask Alexei instead.

___♡___

"Hello? Can you hear me?" You ask over the phone to your future father in law.

"HELLO? ARE YOU THERE, [......]?"

"Yeah, I'm-"

"I THINK MY WHATISUP IS BROKEN- MELINA!"

"No, no, Alexei there's really no need."

You hear the sound of footsteps and Melina scolding Alexei for always forgetting to turn up the volume before she picks up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Ah, hello Melina."

"[........]. Do you need something?"

"When's Natasha’s birthday?"

"December third. Is that all?"

"But- that's today."

"I'm aware."

"Well, thank yo-" The phone cuts off before you finish your sentence and you're left with about two hours to plan a surprise party for a spy.

___♡___

"I did it, Wanda!"

"Only took you half the day."

"Okay, hater, I need you to help me surprise her."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"One hundered percent." You reply confidently. For most of the day you'd been discouraged, but now it was time for you to trust your gut.

Soon enough you've formed a team of Kate, Yelena and Wanda gathered in one of the common rooms of the tower.

"Alright, Wanda you can be in charge of snacks, Kate you can do decorations, and Yelena you can find us the cake."

"Can-"

"No it may not have profanities on it."

The blonde sighs but jumps into action with the other two. Now all you have to do is buy them some time.

___♡___

You greet Natasha at the tower's entrance with a huge smile plastered on your face.

"Hi, Nat!"

"Hey, [.......]. How was your day?"

"A little hectic. Wanna go for a walk?"

"I would love to but I need to sleep for at least ten hours straight."

You step in front of Natasha as she starts to head inside, "Wait- Uh, did you know walking actually improves energy levels?"

Natasha raises an eyebrow, "What's up with you?"

"Nothing."

"For some strange reason I do not believe that." She holds you in place by your shoulders and steps around you, but you take her arm and try to steer her to the kitchen, your plans are foiled by Lucky and Fanny who bound up to Natasha happily.

"What are Yelena and Kate's kids doing here? Seriously, what is going on?"

"Uhh."

"Insightful."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

She stares you down for a few seconds before suddenly moving towards your shared quarters and only speeds up once she realises you're trying to stop her.

The red head clears the stairs in a few seconds and opens the door, only to be met with pitch black. When she steps through and flicks on the light Wanda, Yelena and Kate jump out from behind the couch and yell "Surprise!".

The look on her face is priceless when she turns to you, "How- when did you-"

"I have my ways."

Natasha pulls you into a tight hug and you hug her back even tighter when you feel a small damp patch forming on your shoulder.

___♡___

"Okay, now make a wish!" Yelena says excitedly, the three of you are crowded around the table where the birthday girl sits in front of her cake.

"Alright, alright." She closes her eyes and blows out the candles, which prompts a cheer from everyone in the room.

The five of you all squish onto the couch to watch a movie and eat snacks and cake, with Natasha curled into your side.

"So, did I 'overdo' it?" You ask playfully.

You hear her chuckle, "It was perfect."

____☆____

Tysm for readinggg, If you liked it I have more stuff in my masterlist :)). Reqs are open!!

Also, if you saw the unfinished version of this when I posted it by accident, no you did not.

@l0nelyish 👁👁

[aquasoftware]

FIVE STAR MEAL…★ ★ ★ ★ ★!!

Synopsis: Married to the world's most judgmental chef also meant you feared him going anywhere near your not-so-shaved pussy.

CW: Not proofread ngl 😬, Chef! Geto, c*nnilingus, fingering, spit, praise, hair pulling, thigh hickeys, kissing, dirty talk, degrading (once), squirting, tatted!Reader, insecure! Reader, established relationship, hotel setting, you have a hairy cooter in this! Lmk if I missed sum!!

FT: Drabble.

WC: 1k || Paring : Geto x F!Reader || M.L

When your husband is globally known for having a nasty attitude as a Michelin chef, of course, you were gut-wrenchingly nervous to let him eat you out.

Every "What if?" Always scurried across your scattered brain whenever Suguru pleaded to give you oral, which you brushed aside for another day until the two of you were on vacation for your 1-year anniversary, somewhat far away from the girls, while they were at your parent's house.

Praying he wouldn't treat you like he did to other chefs that he worked with, spitting out their dishes and telling them that gobbling their food was like eating shitty toxic waste, eventually you at last mustered up the courage to let him know what you really desired.

"You sure you're not gonna mind it being hairy, or.. what if I taste bad..?" You gulped, slightly grinding teeth as fidgety eyes bounced from side to side, spouting questions at Suguru left and right.

Oh? That's what this is about; this only made him abhorrently offended; you’d think he’d judge his sweet wife and her semi-unexplored jungle. You've let him finger you a couple of times, but each time was bare since being hairy made you profoundly self-conscious. Besides that, Suguru definitely snuck a taste on his fingers, although remembering it tasting like nothing, he still was prepared to eat your pussy as if it were an addictive drug.

"Trust me, baby, I'm going to take care of you real good; you're gonna wish you let me give you head sooner." Suguru smugly reassured, folding his arms as a devious grin marched in on his face.

And whew! He wasn't lying whatsoever, going slow at first, pressing tender sensual kisses at the dime-sized tattoos in between your thighs, while you rested on your elbows vigilant as to what he was doing exactly, breath hitching whenever Suguru's smooth lips trickled closer to your core.

Your husband began to harshly suck at the sensitive skin, creating dark marks on each thigh, causing you to quietly yelp, achieving a light snicker from out of him running his soft hands all over your body as he exhaled hot, steamy breath upon your aching pussy.

"Sugu..." Whining at the way his breath grazed your lower region, subtly asking for more, too impatient for anymore foreplay, soon satisfied enough, he finally licked a thin stripe across your clit, forcing your eyes to instantly shut.

His tongue lapped at your pussy as if it were nectar, eating it like he was on death row. Feeling his wet muscle slithering above your bundle of nerves in circles passionately sucking it every now and then; body uncontrollably writhing underneath Suguru’s face.

“Oh fffuck.. keep going, mhmm..” Your lips murmured words traveling straight to your husband’s ear, providing the extra motivation Suguru needed to devour that cunt whole.

He didn’t care the next person would call him disgusting for having lots of pube hair tickle his pale nose; either way, he was still going to swish his head side to side rapidly, enjoying the way your hands found solace in his raven tresses half near yanking it out of his skull developing pathetic whimpers against your throbbing pussy.

Sort of becoming embarrassed how even little vibrations from his moans led to your back arching, not at all bothered by the cruel chilly hotel air conditioning slapping close to your fiercely warm body way too in the moment of Suguru’s lewd sounds slurping down a five-star meal.

Hoping the two of you weren’t too loud during quiet hours in the lavish hotel, there was a huge attempt to keep your poor cries reduced, but you struggled, especially when Suguru covertly added fingers without warning.

Opening droopy eyes, you stared at the way this man had two fingers inserted inside, pushing them back and forth in a come here motion.“Haah haahh, shittt, u—use your fingers like that.” Mewling as loud as a siren, his slender fingers wriggling inward your mushy tightened walls felt like heaven, such in a daze that your brain persuaded you to believe that angels were singing to you.

You swore nobody could pull him away from your cunt, but he lifted his head up, panting as if he ran laps around the world. “Dirty girl, you like when I curl my fingers like this?” Suguru serenely spoke betwixt breaths, mildly biting his lip while his almond eyes traced your frame, in love with how the cream on his fingers oozed onto strands of hair from your lower lips.

Throwing your head back towards the mattress, unfortunately too engulfed in pleasure to even answer an inquiry like that right now, his fingers continuously targeted your g-spot, resulting in a deafening sing song squeal that echoed all around the spacey hotel room.

“Hmm, I think I’ve found your sweet spot, baby…” Your man cooed as freckled, sprawled-out goosebumps formed on your arms, the tone of his voice turning you on even more while he proceeded to plunge his fingertips at the notorious spongy spot, unable to help but slam your legs around his head.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt like hell, yet his drive to please his lady was stronger than the pain pounding as of now. “Aht, aht, aht, spread those pretty legs, love.” He sternly ordered, looking prideful when you immediately listened, snapping your legs back wide like a can opener.

“O-oh my godddd aaah S—suguru,” Your lips wailed out; his spit stabbing your pussy running down your plump labia, getting more and more sloppy. Suguru decided to chase after your clit once more, not knowing all these sensations attacking you at once sent you over the edge earlier than expected.

“I can’t ‘m gonna…” You slurred as Suguru’s concentrated palm rubbed against your entrance, driving your eyes to roll back, legs frantically shaking as if they’d been electrocuted. So much was going on at once; you knew he encouraged an orgasm, but you couldn’t understand what he was saying due to his fading out voice, entirely overwhelmed with arousal. The fiery pool in your stomach snapped, bucking up into his face not noticing juices bursted all over your husband.

Boosting Suguru’s confidence causing you to realize he most certainly wasn’t going to let up unless you squirted again on the white damp sheets.

9/1/24 12:46 pm

dividers by cafe kitsune + @/rookthornesartistry

may or may not be inspired by Gordon Ramsay ☹️ leave me alone okay…

[woso-dreamzzz]

Surgery IX

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: Ingrid does your hair

The first time Ingrid meets you, the only thing she can look at is your hair.

You're absolutely tiny, dressed comfortably in a pair of overalls and fancy Adidas shoes. You actually look pretty cool for such a little kid but it's the hair that has Ingrid wincing.

It's wild.

It poofs out a lion's mane and Ingrid can just spy the singular hairband desperately trying to keep it all at bay.

You have a lot of curls and a lot of frizz. It's a wonder that Mapi's even managed to scrape it all back into a ponytail.

Ingrid's hair isn't like yours. In fact, Ingrid hasn't really met anyone with hair like yours before.

Your nickname is well suited to you as you bound over to Mapi to talk, hair bouncing with every little step.

You truly have a mane of your own.

Ingrid finds herself staring at it many times over the next few weeks. She just can't help it.

There's just something about your hair that Ingrid can't just get out of her head.

She works out what exactly it is the first time she sleeps the night at Mapi's place.

It's a day off when she wakes up again so the plan is the three of you are all going out shopping together.

It's a normal day even if she's slept over at her girlfriend's so Ingrid dresses quickly and steps out into the living room.

She can hear the crying before she even walks out.

Mapi's sitting on the sofa with you on the floor in front of her.

You're in tears, howling and sobbing as Mapi runs a brush through your hair.

She looks to be nearly in tears too.

"I know," She says," I know. I'm sorry, Cub. I'm so sorry but you know you need your hair brushed."

"Ma-Mami! Mami, no!" You sob as Mapi attempts to force the brush through your curls.

Ingrid's eyes widen in shock.

She hadn't ever considered Mapi brushed your hair dry.

It doesn't look to be working well either, not with how distressed both you and Mapi appear to be.

Your hair has always been dry for as long as Ingrid's known you but now she wonders if it's like that naturally or something else.

It's a bit bad to be snooping but Ingrid can't help herself as she slips into the bathroom to have a look.

You're still sobbing by the time she comes back and Mapi's broken down in tears too.

Ingrid sits, gently stopping Mapi's brushing with a soft hand.

You wiggle away quickly, shuffling all the way to the other side of the room by your toys.

"Mapi?"

"It's fine." Mapi furiously swipes the tears from her eyes. "We're fine. Just having a bit of trouble with her hair."

"Is it usually like this?"

"We get through it."

Mapi's putting on a brave face but Ingrid can tell it's all fake. She's in tears. You're in tears.

You're both treating this like it's normal.

"New plan," She says," Leave her hair as it is. We're going to get her some things."

"For her hair? Ingrid, I have-"

"Mapi, I can tell you're trying hard but none of that stuff in your bathroom is suited to her hair."

"My Mama said-"

"Does your mum have straight hair?"

"Yes."

"Trust me, Mapi. Curly hair needs more looking after. Come on. Get her dressed and I'll show you."

Mapi wasn't quite convinced at first but upon seeing just how large the range of curly haired products was, she firmly shut up unless it was to translate Ingrid's words to the store attendant.

Together, they manage to fill the basket with things Mapi's never even seen before and suddenly she's sitting in her own living room again watching Ingrid wrangle you back into position on the floor.

Hair brushing is your least favourite time of the day combined with saying goodbye to Bagheera and being put down for bed.

Eventually though, with the promise of baking later on in the day, you sit nicely for Ingrid with some documentary about cats playing on the tv.

"Okay."

Ingrid pulls out a bottle of spray.

"Don't brush her hair if it's dry." Ingrid sprays liberally until your hair is suitably wet and is no longer big and bushy. "So we've got a wide-toothed comb which I think we should use for more everyday kind of brushing but we're going to use this-" She holds up the new detangling brush "-To get all the knots out."

Mapi watches attentively as Ingrid separates a chunk of your hair and starts at the bottom rather than the top.

It's a bit weird to you as Ingrid glides the brush through your hair. She doesn't tug or pull like usually happens so it's a bit strange for you.

Hair brushing has always been a very bad experience for you and Mami. There's usually a lot of tears and screaming and crying but it's still a lot better than when Abuela did your hair once.

She complained a lot when it happened and said mean things like your hair was 'untameable' and 'horrible to brush'. You think she meant it in a joking way because she and Abuelo were laughing and teasing each other but you can still remember the way she said that she might tell your Mami to 'cut it all off and start again'.

You know she was joking around and she wasn't actually going to tell Mami that but she still said it and you still remembered it.

She said that if you were any older than she would sit you in front of her and just straighten it all.

You love your mane though, even though it hurts to brush and it's bushy and big.

Mami loves your mane too, she's told you so lots of times. She says it's very beautiful and makes you look fierce like a real life lion.

You think Ingrid must love your hair too because she's being so gentle and so nice with it. Her hands are soft and the brush doesn't pull or snag much.

You like the feeling of her brushing your hair and your eyes droop a little.

It's almost as nice as getting back scratches.

Mapi sits in awe behind you as Ingrid massages some moisturising product into your now tamed hair.

"We could probably just put her hair up in braids to help protect it when she's going about her day," Ingrid says," It'll keep it nice and neat and no knots until we get home."

"You're good at this," Mapi says. She's still slightly in shock at how well Ingrid's doing with this all.

"I..." Ingrid's face turns red. "I did a lot of research. Her hair is so nice. I want her to love it."

Mapi laughs a little, looking down at where you're fast asleep, leaning back against Ingrid's legs.

"If you keep sending her to sleep every time you brush it then I'm sure she will."

[nuemanfilms]

BAD HUNT

CW smutsmutsmut, against the sink, bar sex, semi-public sex, unprotected piv, fingering, getting caught kink, brief size difference mention, Dean pulls a gun on some guy trying to fuck with his girl, pet names, stinky guy, female bartender flirts with dean, reader can SING, praise, degradation, brief aftercare(??).

Rating 16+

Summary after a bad hunt, you and dean settle at a bar in the middle of no where, multiple things occur..

A/N i didn’t think i could write this much help?? it’s 1k

You both had enough of the night.

Instead of Dean driving you two home, he stopped in the middle of nowhere at some bar. And he had to say, he had the best time of his life with you.

God, your karaoke, your voice was just pure angelic, he couldn’t turn away, not even to see the blonde waitress that was flirting with him (who eventually walked away in frustration).

Dean settled on whiskey. Taking shot after shot as he watched you sing on the cheap stage. You were mesmerizing him and you didn’t even know. And sure, there were a couple guys in the bar who tried to get with you. But you always turned them down.

You had one person in mind. And he was staring you down like you were the prettiest eye candy ever.

Your hips swayed as you walked over to Dean with a precious smile. And you sat down beside him.

“Who’s got you whipped?” You said in a teasing manner. Dean snapped out of his trance and then responded with a gruff, “Shut up.” The man started smiling. You flashed him a smile as well.

“I’m gonna order more shots.” You spoke, getting out of your seat and walking up to the bar stand.

While you were waiting for the female bartender, some guy approached you with a big smirk. God, he reeked of alcohol. Worse than Dean going without a shower for a day.

“Hey, wanna get out of here, Beautiful?” He attempted to smile charmingly. “No thanks.” You responded, moving away from him before he grabbed your arm. “You really wanna leave with me, huh?” You struggled to get off before Dean spoke up, setting the shot glass down with a small slam.

“You heard her,” The guy turned to face him, He obviously was still under the influence. “What’s your problem, man?” Dean chuckled, forcefully pushing the older man away from you. Before Dean could gently grab your hand, the guy threw a punch. And that was when you knew to back out.

Dean groaned, before getting an annoyed look on his face. and before the guy could speak, dean pulled a gun out of his jeans.

“My problem? The fact you’re raising hell in a bar because a girl said no.” The gun was pointed and the guy genuinely had a scared look on his face. His smirk faded instantly.

“Look, my bad, man.” The guy scrambled off. Pushing open the door of the bar. And then he was gone.

Dean put his gun away and immediately went to your aid.

“Are you good?” He asked, and you nodded. “Words, Sweetheart.” He said in that voice of his. The one that every girl fell for. And this time, you were falling for it too.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm okay.” You replied, you noticed the mark on his face. “There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom, C’mon.” Without waiting for a response, you grabbed his hand and led him to the bathroom. The bar was mostly empty, and only god knew where that blonde bartender went.

You leaned against the sink as you cleaned Dean up. His eye contact was intense, and the tension was high. You felt as if you couldn’t even slice it with a knife.

“Thank you, by the way.” You spoke up, hoping to break some of the tension. Dean smiled before wincing in pain at the slight sting.

“It’s alright, don’t worry. I wanted to help you. Trust me, it’s okay.” Dean said, and there it was. The flutter in your stomach.

Something you always felt around Dean. You and Dean weren’t established, sure there was thick tension, but none of you dared to do anything about it. But right now, you felt as if you needed to break it. So, you kissed him.

His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t hesitate to melt into the kiss. his hands wrapped around your waist as you curled your fingers into his short locks.

The first aid kit was long forgotten.

The kiss escalated, and Dean eventually pulled away to speak, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.” He chuckled, you smiled. “Yeah? What else have you been wanting to do?” Your teasing always got to him.

“This,”

He kissed you hard. Such a ferocity that you’d never seen from him before. His tongue probed at your bottom lip, demanding entry. Which you gladly granted him. You moaned into his mouth. His hands slipping down to tug your jeans down. Your damp panties being exposed to the cool air.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” Dean groaned, there was a clear wet spot in the center of your underwear. And Dean had no problem finding your clit. You cried out in ecstasy. He then quickly shoved his hand to your mouth, attempting to drown out your not to mention ethereal sounds.

“Shh, don’t want anyone to find you like this, hm? Or do you want that? For people to see that I've got you leaning against a bathroom sink, ruining your pretty little pussy with just the touch of my finger?” His eyes darkened, lust covering his irises.

You nodded against his hand.

Your hair was tousled along with your lips swollen from his bruising kisses. And it was such a beautiful sight for him.

When you nodded your head, Dean felt his cock throb in his jeans. “Fuck, you want that? Dirty fucking girl.” You whined. His finger slipped from your clit down to your slit. Pushing in slowly. You let out a strangled moan against his palm.

“I got you, I've got you.. It’s okay, relax for me, Sweetheart.” He cooed, kissing your neck softly. Gently and slowly moving his fingers against your gummy walls. You adjusted to his digit as it moved in a rhythm. As if he was playing a musical tune.

“Y’ think you’re ready? To take me?” Dean spoke, adding a second finger. Scissoring them in and out of your cunt. You moaned, nodding your head. And he let out a strangled moan as well.

He gently pulled his fingers out, removing his hand from your mouth so he could undo his jeans. You could tell by the bulge in his pants, he was big. And there was definitely a clear size difference between you two. But he didn’t seem to care.

Once he shoved his jeans and boxers down, he stood in his full glory. You wanted to feel him on your tongue so bad, and the way you were eyeing him. He knew you did.

“Later, need to be inside of you first, ‘kay?” He lined up with your entrance. Waiting for your nod of consent. He didn’t even bother to cover your mouth. As if it was all part of a plan. You didn’t care though.

“Please,”

He pushed in slowly, the agonizing stretch of his cock filling your insides was delicious. And your mouth dropped open in a silent moan. Fingertips gripping his back. He stayed still for a minute. Giving you time to adjust (what a gentleman).

After a few minutes, he began to move.

“Hell- baby.. you’re so tight.” He hissed between gritted teeth. You couldn’t help but spew out moans of his name, your nails scratching down his back.

“H-Harder.. I— I can take it..” Dean laughed, a rumble going through his chest. He sped up his pace, skin on skin filled the small bathroom. The sound of your wet pussy squeezing him was well heard. You moaned out, and you almost seemed to have got increasingly tighter, which signaled him you were about to cum.

“Come for me, baby.. you can do it, i’m right here.” Dean then grunted, “You’re such a good girl, taking my dick so well in that tight little pussy, hm? Such a fuckin’ good girl..” He praised you over and over again, leading you to a climax you never experienced before.

“Dean!” You cried, and he groaned as he stilled, emptying himself inside of you. Your vision went white, your legs shaking uncontrollably. You were in pure bliss.

When Dean pulled out, you let out a whine at the emptiness. “Tomorrow, Sweetheart. Gotta get you cleaned up first.” He smiled, tucking himself back into his jeans.

After he grabbed a cloth from the bathroom shelf and dampened it, he gently applied pressure to clean up your shared juices. Kissing your thigh as you whimpered at the ache.

You then eventually spoke up, “I think the bar’s closed now.”

[ckret2]

@marsupials-of-mars submitted:

I was planning to do maybe a fic and more doodles of this but now I'm busy with school so I might as well show what I did do!

Based on how the goldilocks fic seems to posit that Bill at his best is a silly professor who loves to teach his own way

Introducing Professor Locke!

Things about this idea:

-post redemption, however that will go. I'm calling it an AU because I imagine it is not your plan for what happens after lol, but currently canon-compliant.

-Bill is at first not very on board with the idea of working in the higher education system. It's a scam and it's dumb that they tell adult people how to think.

-He's eventually convinced to bless Backupsmore with his tutelage, on the grounds that they're less stuck up there, they seem to care about giving their students opportunities despite their backgrounds, and the kids there care about learning rather than going to college just because their parents said they should.

-Ford uses his academic connections to vouch for Bill even though he is very mysterious and has no academic records. This is another reason why they picked Backupsmore: i's a little more lax when presented with a shockingly smart mystery professor. Bill gets an interview and charms the pants off the university president.

-He teaches "astrophysics" in theory (that's the job description) but he ends up teaching a little bit of everything.

-He's one of those professors you either adore or despise. He's very loud, often outright mean, and if you're too shy to speak up in class he does not give a SHIT about you. You gotta want it!

-However, his class is notoriously easy. He thinks homework and tests are facist, but he's required to have a curriculum, so his "quizzes" are like a few true or false questions and then a short answer where he asks something he thinks would be funny or wants to hear about, like "what's the dumbest thing another student has said in class since the last test and why was it dumb" or "fashion advice: what's the coolest thing I wore this last week? Extra credit: draw something cooler I SHOULD wear."

-as a result, students who have completely unrelated majors will take his class. If they end up being interested, he deems them worthy. If they're just there to be lazy, he will bully them into dropping out.

-Mabel buys him stickers to put on people's tests when they pass, or to just hand out when they something he likes. He gets along most with the college kids who know how to appreciate a classic gold star.

-He really wanted a big pretty lecture hall, where his voice would echo and he could point at a big chalkboard. But all Backupsmore could provide was a cinderblock and linoleum basement classroom. The lights buzz very loudly and it smells musty. They have stools and folding tables. Bill finds he enjoys the more intimate environment where he can walk between the tables and also sneak up on people.

-He's broken multiple folding tables by trying to do the cool professor thing where you hop up onto your desk and cross your legs and talk all casual. He is able to do this on his own desk thankfully. It's aluminum.

-Ford gets a bit nervous if he did the right thing when bill tells his school stories at the dinner table, so he finds an excuse to accompany Bill to a campus event where he can meet some of his students.

-His fears are quickly assuaged when he sees how beloved Bill is and how well he gets along with the kids. When he eventually joins in on one of these conversations, one of the students asks if he's Sixer. The students are excited by this. Bill tries to shut them up, to partial success.

OK I guess I just ended up writing the fic more or less so enjoy I guess lol.

Aww, this is adorable! Thank you! (And the fact that you're imagining a future for Bill makes me so happy.) He's absolutely be the weirdest professor in the school and he'd ADORE having a crowd full of trusting impressional minds whose parents are paying him to change the way they think. Talk about playing to his strengths.

Your idea is so wholesome, meanwhile the moment I saw "Professor Bill" I went,

[factual-fantasy]

Okay so I did some research on Seam and realized that it would be a crime to not add him to my AU in someway where him and Jevil reconcile and they escape to the multiverse together and are free and they're best friends and- 😭😭😭

I had a dark story all thought up for this but half way through drawing I changed the story so this isn't really canon anymore?? Or it might be idk- my Deltarune AU is only a few days into development so its constantly changing <XDD Sorry-

If anyone's interested in the story I've got it below the Keep reading :}} (Fair warning, its rather dark and disturbing..)

TLDR: This story is super dark and interesting to me but it might not be canon XD

ANYWAYS! The story behind this was Jevil and Seam come from a very dark and corrupt AU. Ruled by an even darker and wicked King (Lancers dad). In this AU they were Kings royal Magician and Jester as per usual. They were best friends though and preformed these beautiful displays of magic together. Side by side, hand in hand. They were best friends for years and always dreamed of one day running away together and finding a safe place to live.

Eventually Jevil met someone. Someone who spoke of a way to leave this place. They spoke of walking through your own reflection. And if done right, one could leave their AU entirely.. Jevil believed them out of desperation and tried to tell Seam about it. Seam thought Jevil was losing his mind. Walking through your own reflection? That makes no sense..

King caught wind of them plotting to escape. And as punishment to both of them he commanded Seam to lock Jevil away using his own magic.

In Seams eyes, Jevil was his best friend. His brother, the only thing in this world that he could trust. But he was more afraid of what King would do to him or Jevil for disobeying him, then he was willing to stand up against him. So while believing Jevil was sick in the head and needed help, he acted out of cowardice and sealed Jevil away..

I'm thinking that eventually sometime later, Jevil is able to escape through his own reflection. A mirror. And either he goes back and sees Seam dressed in these beautiful robes and thinks "well the king must be treating him well. Guess I'll just leave him to reap the benefits of betraying me.. >:(" And leaves with a bitter heart. THAT, or he just left. Never going back to check on Seam or see if King was treating him well or not.

So the AU continues. With Jevil traveling from world to world, meeting new people and learning new things.. When eventually he's with the whole gang and they're all sitting in a restaurant or something.

When Jevil suddenly feels this overwhelming sense of doom. Something horrible is about to happen to Seam. He just knows it, its in his bones. Deep within his soul he can feel it. He knows- he needs to save him.

He falls back out of his chair into a mirror and heads straight for his old AU. Showing up just in time to stop Seam from.. well..

They end up talking. Turns out that after Jevil was imprisoned, Seam tried to sneak down to the basement and visit him. He wanted to apologize for imprisoning him and explain himself- but he was caught by King.

"I just wanted to see him!"

"For that I will take your eye."

"NO! Please don't take my eye!!"

"For talking back, I will take your voice too."

King took Seams eye and stitched his mouth shut. He could still talk but not very well. To make things worse, when Jevil escaped? Seam thought he had died. Why wouldn't he? His magical barrier was never broken and Jevil was gone. Surly he must have died somehow.. Meanwhile everyone else was under the impression that Seam let Jevil escape because they were friends.

Seam then suffered greatly for years as punishment for "letting Jevil escape". He was bound by these magical chains made by King. He was abused for years and at this point he had enough. But before he could do anything rash.. Jevil returned.

Jevil then felt the sinking horror realizing that he left Seam alone in this world to be abused by King. He abandoned him. After all those years of promising to one day run away together..

Seam betrayed Jevil, and Jevil abandoned Seam.

After realizing all of this and having a long emotional talk. Seam and Jevil deeply apologized to the other, and forgave each other. Marking the beginning of their new friendship. And despite Seam feeling like he doesn't deserve freedom, he agreed to run away with Jevil and finally be free with him.

~~~~

Now this story is super cool and morbid and all but now I'm questioning the story and wether or not I want it to be canon <XD

I have some other ideas that I really like too and this one is just a biiiiit dark... ish. I mean I've made worse- but idk I guess this one just has a bad taste to it..

I also like the idea that Seam has been with Jevil this whole time and was the first person he saved. Which motivated him to try and save other people and give them the same freedom that he gave to Seam. But then that would change the Grillby fight and Spamton situation a bit and also maybe effect the Goner kid situation- GAH!! I'll figure it out eventually- <XDD

I hope this wasn't too hard to stomach and if you read all the way through I thank you :}} 💖

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Simon Said | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )

Warnings: mind control, canon violence, canon gore, consent lines blurry bc mind control but nothing happens to the reader, mind control attempted suicide

Word Count: 5301

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

“I don't know, man, why don't we just chill out, think about this,” Dean said, trying to soothe his brother.

Sam had another vision while he was washing his face a state or two back. Dean was having to be the level-headed one at this moment because Sam was a complete basketcase. “What's there to think about?” the latter asked.

“I just don't know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea,” Dean replied.

“I agree. I like ‘em, but I don’t trust any of them enough yet to tell them about this,” you said earnestly. 

“Guys, it's another premonition. I know it. This is gonna happen, and Ash can tell us where,” Sam protested. “Plus, it could have some connection with the demon. My visions always do.”

“That’s my point,” Dean said. “There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if going in and announcing that you're some supernatural freak with a— a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?”

“So I'm a freak now?”

You gritted your teeth awkwardly.

Dean slapped Sam on the thigh. “You've always been a freak,” he smiled weakly. 

You looked at Sam concernedly, and it seemed he couldn’t keep still even if his life depended on it.

“Sam, it’s gonna be fine, I promise,” you said. 

He looked back at you, offering a small smile at your attempt to comfort him. You could tell he was unconvinced.

***

When you arrived at the Roadhouse, Jo bounded up to you and the brothers. “Just can't stay away, huh?” she grinned to Dean.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. You knew your jealousy was baseless but still could barely hold it at bay.

“Yeah, looks like. How you doin', Jo?” the older brother asked her.

Sam hurriedly asked, “Where’s Ash?”

“In his back room,” Jo replied.

He brushed past her wordlessly.

Jo turned after him, watching him go. “And I'm fine…”

“Sorry, he's, we're... kind of on a bit of a timetable,” Dean explained, following after his brother. You nodded and gave a closed-lip smile to Jo, who returned it, before heading after Dean.

You arrived at a door labeled, “ Dr. Badass is: IN.” You snorted at the sign, and Sam knocked on the door. “Ash? Hey, Ash?”

Moments passed; no answer. You knocked, this time saying, “Hey, Dr. Badass?”

The door unlatched and opened a crack to reveal a stark naked Ash. You averted your eyes, feeling intensely uncomfortable.

“Sam? Dean?” Ash sounded high. “Sam and Dean. And (Y/N). Hey, (Y/N).”

You laughed awkwardly, still turned away from Ash standing in the doorway. “Hey, Ash. Um. We need your help.”

“Well, hell, then! Guess I need my pants.” He shut the door, and you and the brothers turned to move back to the bar.

Sam described the scene from his dream and drew a logo of the bus he saw in his dream. Ash sat at a table with his homemade laptop and somehow found the logo based off Sam’s drawing. “Well, I got a match. It's the logo from the Blue Ridge bus lines in Guthrie, Oklahoma.”

“Okay. Do me a favor—” Sam began. “Check Guthrie for any demonic signs, or omens, or anything like that.”

“You think the demon's there?” Ash asked.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Why would you think that?”

Dean gruffly replied, “Just check it, alright?”

You shot him a look, as did Ash. He obliged, though, and said, “No, sir, nothing. No demon.”

“Alright, try something else for me. Search Guthrie for a house fire. It would be 1983, fire's origin would be a baby's nursery, night of the kid's six month birthday,” Sam said.

You looked around for eavesdroppers, only to find Jo cleaning a table nearby and watching your group.

“Okay, now that is just weird, man,” Ash protested. “Why the hell would I be looking for that?”

Sam pulled out a beer and set it next to his laptop. “'Cause there's a PBR in it for ya.”

Before Sam could finish his sentence, Ash replied, “Give me fifteen minutes.”

You sat next to Ash as he continued his work, and Dean left to get a beer from Ellen. Suddenly, REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight This Feeling” started playing from the jukebox. You turned your head to the source of the sound and found Jo sauntering over to a horrified-looking Dean at the bar. Your blood boiled, but you just looked back at Ash and his computer. However, you didn’t register anything he was saying or scrolling through.

All you could think about was Jo’s attempted flirting with Dean. Technically, neither party were doing anything wrong; you and Dean had agreed to be friends for the time being. But you were furious at the thought of the two of them together. How disrespectful would that be for Dean to get with Jo days after saying he wanted you and agreed to be friends for now? Your jaw clenched, and you clutched your beer tighter.

Sam snapped in front of your face. “(Y/N), let’s go.”

You broke out of your thoughts and grabbed Dean’s jacket, pulling him along with you.

“See ya, Jo,” you called over your shoulder, stomping out of the bar with Dean in tow. 

Dean chuckled at you, gently shrugging you off him. He stooped down to your level and whispered lowly, “Jealous?”

You jerked away from him, cheeks heating in embarrassment. “No.”

He just smirked in response and kissed the side of your head. “Sure, sweetheart.” He then walked ahead of you to the Impala. 

You froze, flustered and unappreciative of the effect he had on you. “Dean—!”

***

“Sam, you can’t tell me Lord of the Rings is better than Erin Brockovich,” you argued with the younger brother. The two of you had been locked in a heated debate on your favorite movies of recent years, and these two were the next in question.

“(Y/N/N),” Sam started, “Lord of the Rings is based on six books of Tolkein’s experience in World War I, and Erin Brockovich is—”

“Two hours of fuckin’ perfection,” you cut him off. “Julia Roberts acted those other bitches under the table.”

“But the worldbuilding, (Y/N), it’s not even comparable!” 

“Yeah, if you stick around long enough to learn about it. It’s a snoozefest from start to finish,” you giggled.

He scoffed. “Okay, what about—”

“If you two keep talkin’ film nerd, I’m gonna kill myself,” Dean grumbled.

“Killjoy. If it’s not eighties horror, you’re not interested, huh?” you commented, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back in your seat. 

Dean’s eyes met yours in the rearview mirror. “Did you actually read anything back there, or….?” 

“I did, thank you very much.” You pulled the stack of papers on the seat next to you into your lap. “Andrew Gallagher. Born in ‘83, like Sam. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like Sam.”

“You think the demon killed his mom?” Dean asked.

“Sure looks like it,” Sam responded.

“How did you even know to look for this guy?” Dean asked you.

“Well, Sam’s visions have all been attached to the demon or the other kids—”

“Like Max Miller, remember him?” Sam cut you off.

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, but Max Miller was a pasty little psycho.”

“Well, yeah, but my point is, he was killing people,” you began.

Sam continued, “And I was having the same type of visions about him. And now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy.”

Dean asked, “How do we find him?”

You blew air out through your pursed lips. “Don't know. No current address, no current employment. He still owes money on all his bills; phone, credit, utilities—”

“Collection agency flags?” the older brother questioned.

“None in the system.”

“They just let him take a walk?”

You shrugged. “Seems like it. There's a work address from his last W-2; about a year ago. Let's start there.”

***

You and the brothers stopped at a coffee shop dressed in your “formal attire” to question a girl you knew to be friends with Andrew Gallagher about his whereabouts. 

“You won't get anything out of Andy, guys. I'm sorry, but they never do,” she said.

“ ‘They’?” Sam asked.

She tilted her head in confusion. “You're debt collectors, right? Once in a while they come by. I don't know what Andy says to them, but they never come back.”

“Actually we're- we're lawyers. Representing his Great Aunt Leta. She passed, god rest her soul, and left Andy a sizable estate,” Dean lied. “Are you a friend of his?”

“I used to be, yeah. I don't see much of Andy anymore.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

A man came up behind the bashful woman. “Andy? Andy kicks ass, man.”

“Is that right?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Andy can get you into anything. He even got me backstage at Aerosmith once; it was beautiful, bro.”

The woman turned to him. “How about bussing a table or two, Weber?”

“Yeah. You bet, boss.” The man named Weber turned away.

“Look,” the woman sighed, “if you want to find him, try Orchard Street. Just look for a van with a barbarian queen painted on the side.”

“Barbarian queen?” Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“She's riding a polar bear. It's kind of hard to miss.”

***

She was right. It was incredibly hard to miss. You and the Winchester boys sat in the back of the Impala, having caught sight of the blue van with the aforementioned painted on the side of it from across the street.

“I'm sorry, I'm starting to like this dude. That van is sweet,” Dean grinned. He turned to his brother. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Sam, you look like you're sucking on a lemon, what's going on?”

The brunet sighed. “This Andrew Gallagher, he's the second guy like this we've found, Dean. Demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people.”

“We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, alright? He could be innocent,” the older brother argued.

“My visions haven't been wrong yet.”

“Sam, you’re not one of them, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” you said.

“(Y/N), the demon said he had plans for me and children like me,” he replied. “Maybe this is his plan, maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks, maybe we're all supposed to be—”

Dean scoffed. “What, killers? So the demon wants you out there killing with your minds, is that it? Come on, give me a break. You're not a murderer, Sam! You don't have it in your bones.”

“No? Last I checked, I kill all kinds of things."

“Sam, that’s different,” you chimed in. “We kill shit that’s already dead. Or… undead. Or… not human— What are you looking at?”

“Got him,” was all Sam replied with. He nodded toward a man walking down the road in a robe, sandals, and baggy pants. The man in question blew a kiss up at a beautiful woman in lingerie leaning out of a window and waving down at him, got a coffee from some random guy he was passing, and then, shook hands with another. 

“That's him. That older guy, that's him, that's the shooter,” Sam rushed out, referencing the man Andy had shaken hands with.

“Alright, you keep on him, we'll stick with Andy. Go.” Sam got out of the car at his older brother’s command.

“We will?” you asked, climbing over the front seat. 

“C’mon, sweetheart.” Dean followed Andy— who had just climbed into his ostentatious van and began to drive off— closely. 

A few minutes of following the man into a suburban area later, the van stopped in the middle of the road and approached the Impala. You discreetly handed Dean his gun from the glovebox and tucked yours into your jacket.

Andy leaned into the rolled-down window of the Impala. “Hey.”

“Hey, hey,” Dean replied.

“This is a cherry ride,” Andy grinned. “Man, the '67? Impala's best year if you ask me. This is a serious classic.”

“Yeah. Y'know, I just rebuilt her, too.”

“And who’s this gorgeous lady you got next to ya?”

“Oh, I’m (Y/N),” you smiled, suddenly not feeling right.

“Hey, can I have the car? And her, if she’ll let me?” Andy asked you and Dean.

“Sure, man,” Dean grinned, getting out of the car to let the man into the driver’s side.

“Hi, handsome,” you smiled, draping yourself over Andy’s shoulder. You weren’t quite sure what was happening to you, but you knew you weren’t fully in control of what you were doing.

“Take it easy,” Andy told Dean before driving off with you.

“Where ya takin’ me?” you asked him, still mentally horrified by the effect he was having on you. 

“You’ll see,” he grinned, and you settled into his shoulder as he continued to drive.

***

About ten minutes later, the man driving you around received a call that seemed to really upset him. He drove a little faster and parked the car moments later once you’d arrived in front of the café you’d first gone to when you rolled into town.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” you asked, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Uh, I—” he paused, sighing. “Stay here, okay?”

“Okay!” You sat patiently with your hands folded in your lap, waiting for him to come back. You suddenly seemed to realize what you’d been doing and looked around yourself, trying to gain your bearings. You were relieved to see Dean and Sam approaching you. You jumped out of the car and leapt into Dean’s arms. “Dean! What the hell, man, he full-on Obi-Wan-ed us!” You let him go and hugged Sam. “What’s wrong, dude, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“That guy, um, from my visions, he stepped out in front of a bus. Right after he got off the phone,” Sam explained. “We’re thinkin’ Gallagher called him.”

Your brows furrowed and stomach dropped. “Oh.”

“He would’ve had to be on the phone with you in the car,” Dean added. “Was he?”

You shook your head. “No. I mean, not until a second or two before he ditched the car and me in the front seat.”

“Did he… do anything to you?” Sam asked. 

You shook your head.

“A real Samaritan, this guy,” the brunet quipped.

You turned to Dean talking to his car. “Oh, baby, I promise I’ll never leave you again.”

“Do you want a moment alone with her?” you deadpanned to Dean.

“We have a special bond,” he said after a pause. He turned back to his car. “She just doesn’t understand us.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the ends of your lips. “Anyway, he didn’t give any kind of a command over the phone. If anything, he was upset when he answered his phone not ten minutes ago. I don’t think he’s our guy.”

“Either way, how are we going to track this guy down?” Sam asked.

“Not a problem,” Dean smirked.

***

“I’ll give you that, his ride isn’t exactly ‘covert’,” you said upon finding the van again. 

Dean pulled a small crowbar out of his jacket and pried the doors of the van open with it. The opened doors revealed a disco ball, fur rugs, a tiger painted on the wall, several thick books, and an enormous bong.

“Oh. Oh, come on. This is— this is magnificent, that's what this is. Not exactly a serial killer's lair, though. There's no... clown paintings on the walls, or scissors stuck in victims' photos. I like the tiger,” Dean chuckled in awe.

“Dean, he tried to kidnap me. And he kidnapped your car. Can we stay focused, please?” you deadpanned. You looked down at the books. 

Sam picked one up. “Hegel, Kant, Wittgenstein? That's some pretty heavy reading, guys.”

Dean picked up the glass object lying next to them. “Yeah, and, uh, Moby Dick's bong.”

***

Sam and Dean bickered over whether or not they thought Andy was guilty as you zoned out in the backseat. That was, until, the man in question hit the passenger’s side door, startling all three of you.

“Hey! You think I haven't seen you three? Why are you following me?” He asked, his voice reverberating strangely in your ears.

Sam calmly began to explain. “Well, we're lawyers. See, a relative of yours has passed aw—” 

“Tell the truth!” Andy’s voice echoed in your mind.

“We hunt demons,” Dean rushed out.

Andy jerked back in surprise. “What?”

“Dean!” Sam scolded.

“He’s telling the truth,” you jumped in. “That’s Sam. He’s Dean’s brother. I’m (Y/N). I met their dad on a hunt, and, uh, here I am! I follow them everywhere because they’re my best friends and the only real family I’ve ever had, and I’m terrified of losing them, and I followed them to you.”

“(Y/N), shut up!” Sam chastised, turning to face you. 

“I’m trying,” you said.

“He's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer,” Dean continued, “and he's afraid that he's going to become one himself, 'cause you're all part of something that's terrible. And, I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right.”

“Okay, you know what? Just leave me alone,” Andy said.

“Okay,” Dean nodded.

Andy walked away from the door, and Sam followed. You and Dean clutched your heads.

“Holy fuck, that hurt,” you groaned.

“Did you really mean that?” Dean asked, clutching the bridge of his nose.

“What, that this hurts?” you scoffed.

“No, about me and Sam.”

“Dude, he made me Professor-Xavier-level spill my guts,” you grumbled. “I couldn’t have lied if I tried.”

Dean gave you a confusing look, but you got out of the car, feeling embarrassed. Sam held up a hand, warning you not to come any closer. You could vaguely hear Andy and Sam arguing about the origins of their powers and the doctor’s death, but all you could focus on was what you’d just admitted.

“(Y/N)—” Dean started.

“No, Dean.” You looked up at him. “We can talk about it one day when this is all over. Just… for now, let’s not.”

He didn’t say anything, but eyed you curiously. Before either of you could say another word to each other, Sam began to collapse to the floor. You and Dean ran to him to catch him and lowered him to the asphalt.

“Sam? What is it?” Dean asked his brother, shaking him.

“Look, I didn't do anything to him—”

“We know you didn’t,” you told Andy.

Sam snapped to attention. “A woman. A woman burning alive. A gas station, a woman is gonna kill herself.”

Andy’s voice rose significantly in pitch. “What does he mean, going to? What is he, what is—”

“Shut up!” you and Dean told Andy.

“She gets triggered by a call on her cell,” Sam continued.

“When?”

“I don't know.” Dean helped his brother stand as he continued talking, “But as long as we keep our eyes on this son of a bitch, he can't hurt her.”

Andy raised his hands up in surrender. “I didn't hurt anybody.”

“Yeah, not yet,” you said. Your head jerked toward the sound of a fire engine roaring and flashing by you on the highway next to you.

“Go,” Sam told you and Dean. The two of you sprinted to the car and headed off to follow the firetruck.

When you arrived, you were disheartened to see the first responders trying to put out the fire, keep civilians away, and recover the charred body of the woman who had died.

Dean immediately called Sam. “Hey, it's me. She's dead. Burned up, just like you said… Like minutes before I got here! I mean, the smell hasn't even cleared. What's up with your visions, man? This wasn't even a head start… Listen, you were with Andy when this whole thing went down, so it- it can't be him, it's gotta be somebody else doing this… What else is new? Well, we'll dig around here, see what else we can find.”

You and Dean roamed around talking to first responders and bystanders, posing as relatives of the woman who’d died. It was one of the things you felt guilty about in your line of work; posing as relatives of the dead to get information felt disrespectful to you. But alas, you had to, in this case.

You and Dean drove in silence back to the lot where Sam and Andy were talking on the bed of a broken truck as you rolled up. 

“Victim's name was Holly Beckett, forty-one, single,” Dean explained to Sam.

“I called Ash back at the crime scene,” you began. “Said he found a Holly Beckett who gave birth when she was eighteen, back in ‘83. Same day you were born, Andy.”

“Andy, were you adopted?” Sam questioned.

He nodded as if it were obvious. “Well, yeah.”

Dean glared pointedly. “You were? And you neglected to mention that?”

“Never really came up,” Andy deadpanned. “I mean, I, I never knew my birth parents, and, and like you said my adopted mom died when I was a baby— do you, do you think this Holly woman could actually be my m—”

“I don't know,” you explained. “I tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they're hard copy only, sealed in the county office.”

Andy smirked. “Well, screw that.”

***

You and the brothers went through the drawers of file cabinets searching for phone records as Andy began leading the guards out of the room.

“Probably shouldn't have left you kids in here,” the guard said.

Andy rubbed a hand over his back. “No, it'll all be fine. Alright? Just go get a cup of coffee.” As the guard left, he continued, saying, “These aren't the 'droids you're looking for.”

You and Dean grinned. “Awesome,” the older brother said.

“I got it,” Sam said. “Andy, it's true. Holly Beckett was your birth mother.”

Andy looked like he’d been punched in the stomach. “Huh. Does anyone have a Vicodin?”

"No Vicodin. Weed, though," you told him, offering him a joint from a pack of pre-rolls in your jacket.

Andy considered but shook his head.

“Dr. Jennings was her doctor, too, I mean, he oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them.”

“Yeah, but I— I didn't kill them,” he rushed out.

“We believe you,” Sam told him.

“But uh, who did?” Dean questioned.

“I think I got a pretty good guess,” Sam replied. “Holly Beckett gave birth to twins.”

Andy’s jaw dropped. “I have an evil twin.” He looked to you. "I may take that joint now."

Sam began flipping through another folder of documents. “Holly put you and your brother up for adoption. And you went to the Gallagher family, obviously, and your brother went to the Weems family from upstate.”

You looked over at the zoned-out Andy. “You okay? Still with us?”

He shook his head and looked over at you. “Um. What was my brother's name?”

Sam flipped to another page. “Here. Um, Ansen Weems. And he's got a local address.”

“He- He lives here?!”

Dean pushed a few buttons on the computer. “Let's get a look at him. Got his picture coming off from the DMV right now.”

“Dean, you can barely work a toaster. How’d you find his picture from the DMV?” you asked.

He just glared at you in response. You could tell he was messing with you, though.

You pulled the paper off the printer, eyes widening as you recognized the man in the picture. “Hate to kick you while you're freaked,” you said. “Take a look at that.”

When Andy caught sight of his friend from the café Weber looking back at him from the printed off image, his jaw dropped even further in shock.

***

It was a race against the clock to find where Weber had taken Andy’s ex-girlfriend, Tracy— the woman you spoke to at the diner— after Sam had another vision about her jumping off a bridge. Sam’s visions were getting more intense and painful; poor guy. Andy directed Dean to the bridge Sam described from his vision, and the four of you climbed out of the car in unison.

“(Y/N), Dean, you should stay back,” Sam said.

“No argument here. Had my head screwed with enough for one day,” Dean leaned against his car next to you. You watched Andy and Sam head to fend off Weber when you got an idea. “You got a Remington in the trunk? Or an FR F2?”

He smirked at you. “Have you met me?”

***

You and Dean found a spot in the trees far enough away from the scene below to get a clear shot at Weber without being able to hear one of his commands. Dean only had one FR F2, and you convinced him to hand it over to you. You were a damn near perfect shot and could easily take this guy out.

You lined up your shot, smiling smugly when you centered his head on the cross in the middle of the scope. ‘Gotcha,’ you thought. Suddenly, his head turned to you. He said something you couldn’t hear, but it was enough to get you to tuck the barrel of the rifle under your chin.

“(Y/N)! Stop it!” Dean tugged on your arm and managed to wrestle it away from the trigger when another gunshot rang out. As you came back into full control of your body, your breathing labored. You dropped the gun and collapsed backward into Dean’s chest, and his arms circled you as you turned your face into him.

“I got you, I got you,” he assured you as you wound your hands around his neck and buried your face in his chest.

“C’mon, we gotta get Sammy,” Dean said, pulling you down the hill to the bridge with him. 

You found Sam passed out on the floor and sat with Dean while he did his best to wake his brother up. When he did finally awaken, the paramedics had begun to arrive. Andy’s skills were clearly developing given the way he spoke to the police about the incident.

“He shot himself. And you all saw it happen,” he told them. All of the policemen nodded in affirmation.

The paramedics fixed Sam’s shoulder and wrapped a disposable blanket around Tracy’s shoulders. You watched Tracy’s frightened gaze that she couldn’t quite meet Andy’s eyes with. You knew she wouldn’t ever see him the same, and that broke your heart a bit. Andy seemed to understand that, too.

“She won't even look at me,” he noted.

“Yeah, she's pretty shaken up,” Sam gently responded.

“No, it's— this is different. It's, uh, I never— I never used my mind-thing on her before. Before tonight. She's scared of me now.” His face fell as the words left his lips; as if it became real for him.

“Hey, Andy, I hate to do this, but um, we have to get out of here. Here. I wrote down my cell.” Sam handed him a piece of paper with his phone number on it. “You don't have to be alone in this, alright? If anything comes up, just call me up.” 

“Wha- what am I supposed to do now?”

“You be good, Andy. Or we'll be back,” Dean stated firmly.

“Looks like I was right,” Sam said as you walked back to the car with the brothers.

“About what?” Dean questioned.

“Andy. He’s a killer after all,” he responded.

“No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life, he saved her life.” Dean pointed to you, his voice becoming firmer.

“Bottom line, he wasted somebody,” Sam argued.

“No, dude,” you jumped in. “He’s not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho, though. He was pushed into that. All of us would’ve died had he not.”

“Weber was pushed too, in his own way. Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by Jessica's death.”

You scoffed. “What’s your point, man?”

“Right circumstances, everyone's capable of murder. Everyone. Y'know, maybe that's what the demon's doing. Pushing us. Finding ways to break us,” Sam continued.

You considered Sam’s words. “I agree that everybody’s capable, but—”

Dean cut you off. “Sam, we don't know what the demon wants, okay? Quit worrying about it.”

“You know, I heard you before, Dean, when Andy made you tell the truth. You're just as scared of this as I am.” Sam turned to his brother.

Dean scoffed. “That was mind control! I mean, it's like, like, that's like being roofied, man, that doesn't count.”

“What?”

“No. I'm- I'm calling do-over,” the older brother responded petulantly.

You giggled. “Are you five?”

“Doesn't matter. Look, we've just gotta keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch and kill it,” he told Sam.

The brunet sighed, “Yeah, I guess.”

Dean’s phone rang through the uncomfortable silence. “Hello? Ellen. What's going on? Yeah, we'll be right there.”

***

When you arrived at the Roadhouse, Jo eyed Dean wantonly. You were repulsed, but you stomached your jealousy and pushed forward to Ellen. “What’s going on?” you asked her. 

She motioned for you to sit at the bar. You did so, confused. 

“Jo?” Ellen called to her daughter from behind the bar. “Go pull up another case of beer.”

“Mom,” she groaned.

Ellen stared her down. “Now. Please.”

As Jo left, Ellen leaned across the bar in front of you and the boys. “So. You uh, you want to tell me about this last hunt of yours?”

Dean shook his head. “No. Not really. No offense, it's just kind of a family thing.”

“Not anymore,” she responded. She dropped a stack of papers on the bar in front of you. “I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher's house burnt down on his six month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family?”

Sam answered before Dean could. “Yeah, we think so.”

“Sam—” Dean scolded.

“Why?” Ellen asked.

You began, “Ellen, you’re lovely and all, but this really isn’t—”

She cut you off. “You mind your tongue with me, girl. This isn't just your war, this is war. Now, something big and bad's coming, and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now, at best, all we got is us. Together. No secrets or half-truths here.”

You eyed her warningly as Sam spoke. “There are people out there, like Andy Gallagher, like me. And um... we all have some kind of ability.”

“Ability?” Ellen asked.

Dean rolled his eyes, uncomfortable.

“Yeah. Psychic ability. Me, I have, um, I have visions. Premonitions. I don't know, it's- it's different for everybody. The demon said he had plans for people like us.”

“What kind of plans?”

“We don't really know for sure.”

“These people out there; these psychics— they dangerous?”

You and Dean jumped in quickly. “No.” Dean finished by saying, “Not all of them.”

Sam eyed his brother. “But some are. Some are very dangerous.”

“Okay, how many of them are we looking at?”

“We've been able to track a clear pattern so far. They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six month birthday,” Dean explained.

“That's not true,” Sam told his brother.

You turned to him, confused.

“Weber? Or Ansen Weems, or whatever his name is— I looked at his files, and there was no house fire. There's nothing out of the ordinary,” he explained.

Ellen took yours and Dean’s shock as an opportunity to rejoin the conversation. “Which breaks pattern. So if there's any others like him, there'd be nothing in the system. No way to track 'em all down.”

“And so who knows how many of 'em are really out there?” Sam added.

Jo walked up behind you and the boys.

“Jo, honey?” her mom said. “You'd better break out the whiskey instead.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[ohcaptains]

what if this is real?

pairing. ellie williams x female! reader

an. i'm gonna pretend that this isn't my first fic in six months and just move on...anyway. um. hi? i hope you enjoy -- not my usual filth. love u.

synopsis. it's the end of the world, but there's still parties to attend. or, the first kiss in yours and ellie's situationship.

warnings. kissing -- suggestive language and swearing. probably the most tame i've written in a hot min!

You’re standing in front of Ellie’s door, thinking, fuck this.

It would be easy to turn around and pretend that you’ve forgotten all about the party. You could pretend that you’d slept through the whole thing. Ignore the – eventual – banging on your door, and the husk of Ellie’s voice penetrating the wood, asking, Babe, you sleeping?

Your cold fingers reach down and tug at your rising skirt, and you think -- for the third time this night -- that you shouldn’t have worn this God damned outfit.

The alcohol you’d downed before trudging over here quiets that voice a little, but you’re always nervous around Ellie.

If you told her that, she’d scoff and laugh you off. It was true, though. She made you go all doe-eyed and dumb.

The thought of her complimenting you made you wear this silly outfit, and It was winter, for fucks sake.

You knock on her door, déjà vu washing over you. How many times have you stood, nervous, at Ellie’s door? You chew on your bottom lip, playing with the hem of your skirt still.

“Coming!” Ellie’s familiar cadence immediately hollers.

She fumbles around with something, and when she opens the door, she’s tugging a simple tank top over her muscular belly.

You briefly glance at her middle, eyes finding the faint lines of her abs.  

“Well don’t you look nice,” she teases.

When you eventually drag your eyes to her eyes, she’s giving you a once-over, a teasing beam on her pretty, freckled face.

As if to get a better look at your outfit, she pushes her loose auburn hair behind her ears.

Music floods through the open door – some shitty indie band she had a thing for – but all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears from her previous compliment.

It wasn’t all that great– she’d said you had looked nice – but that, plus the interest in her green eyes as she examines you, has your belly swirling.

Ellie steps back to get a better look. She licks the corner of her mouth and nods to you. “Twirl for me.”

Your eyes automatically roll, but you listen anyway -- hands out at your waist, you do a little slow twirl. Ellie whistles low.

When you face her again, she’s leaning against the door frame, muscular arms crossed over her chest and grinning cockily. “Oh yeah, putting on a show for me.” “Shut up – are you coming?” you ask, ignoring the heat that finds you and jabbing a thumb behind you.

Ellie drags her eyes away from the cut of your skirt, glancing into the distance. She nods as if she’s just remembered. As she nods, small bits of hair flutter onto her broad shoulders.

Her white tank is damp, too, with small patches of water staining the fabric.  

“Oh yeah, I just got distracted. My hair was touching my shoulders weird, so I’m trying to cut it but I think I’ve fucked up the back.”

Trust Ellie to get that distracted and take up such a monumental task before a party. You motion for her to turn.

“Twirl for me.”

Begrudgingly, she does, managing to roll her eyes.

“Oh my god,” you suddenly gasp, hands flying to your mouth, “what have you done?”

Ellie spins, grabbing the back of her head in a panic.

“What?” she asks, green eyes wide. Just as quick as you put the act on, you drop it with a shrug. “It’s fine, just slightly uneven.”  

“You’re an asshole, get in here.”

She grabs your hand and yanks you in, closing the door behind you. The speed makes you dizzy, so you grab a hold of her shoulders, trying to steady yourself.

“Whoa – gimmie a minute,” you whisper, trying to blink the world back into the frame.

Ellie immediately bends to look at you, confused.

There’s a beat where she’s concerned, and she gives you another once over, trying to see if there’s anything physically wrong. “The fuck is wrong with you?” she asks, nervous laughter bubbling out of her lips. “I’m –” you start to admit, blinking the fuzz away. Ellie watches you put your forefinger and thumb together, squinting, explaining that you’re, “– slightly drunk,” and she frowns, her face hard, waiting for you to explain further. “I’m wearing a skirt,” you simply state, and her frown deepens, mouth quirking to the side. She glances down, eyeing the short fabric.

“I noticed,” she bleats. “And I needed a little liquid courage…” you let out an exasperated sigh, shaking your head at yourself. “Neil’s homemade wine is no joke.” “Okay, sit down,” Ellie orders.

She begins to walk towards you, using her body to edge you closer to her bed, and you frown, asking, “What?” but still, you move with her. You try and explain that “I’m fine,” but Ellie just shakes her head, “Sit down, before you fall down.”

She can’t be serious. She’s seen me drunk before…worse than this. “El- “you begin, and her face tenses, no more fun Ellie. Her hard tone is unwavering as she asks, “Do I have to pick you up and sit you down myself?”

Your eyes widen, and there’s a beat of silence where your body reacts to her words.

Holy shit, you think, cheeks going hot. You have to laugh to hide it – have you push your thighs together.

The fuck was that?

“Ooo, okay,” you scoff, hands up, brows wiggling, and you let Ellie finish walking you to her unmade bed. You bounce onto the mattress, hands in your lap obediently.

The desire to explain hits you again, and you push at the mattress, saying, “Ellie, seriously, I’m fine.”

It’s a lie – every time you twist your head, the world turns – and the sudden concern from her is slightly overwhelming, if not embarrassing.

Still, she ignores your comment and walks to the sink, pouring you a glass of water, and then she grabs something from a wooden box. She thrusts both into your hands. “A bran muffin?” you question, staring at the lopsided baked good. Ellie pushes the glass to your face, and you glance up at her over the rim.

Her jaw is tense with unease, and her shoulders are rolled back, heavy with responsibility.

When you don’t move, she leans down, and her face is blurry, hand blurry, as you see the side of it before she taps your cheek softly.   “Drink and eat – I’m gonna finish my hair.”

Then she turns to the bathroom, and you watch her muscular back disappear.

90’s indie pours into her little apartment, and you sit, dumbfounded at what has just happened.

You diligently sip at the water.

Ellie is always a little hot-headed, and yeah, when you mucked about on runs, she’d snap into leader mode, but the alcohol, threaded with the warmth of her apartment, your nerves, and the bare skin of her neck and arms – the slither of skin between her belt and hem of her top – have you befuddled.

She’d slipped into protective mode so quickly.

Was a little mean about it too.

You lay back on her bed, pulling the hem of your skirt down to try and cover your bare thighs, and frown at her ceiling, munching on the muffin.

Come to think of it, Ellie had been odd these last couple of weeks.

Your usual flirtatious banter has been edged with something else, and she was glancing at you more often – ushering you in front of her on runs, so she could watch your back. Pulling you behind her all the same.

Do I have to pick you up and sit you down myself?

You sip at the water and nibble on the muffin. Mindlessly rub circles into your lower thigh, thinking about the way she crooked her scarred brow and the hardness of her features.

Challenge me, I dare you.

Ellie always took a lot on, and she has been stressed more than usual recently, but she didn’t have to be a dick about it.

You push your bottom lip out, thinking at the ceiling. You think about her though, and something sickly sweet still swirls in your belly.

It makes your cheeks heat, and you blink away the sudden fever, clenching your eyes closed.

You manage to finish the water and the muffin, but your belly still feels funny. Hands are clammy, skin prickly.

Maybe you’re drunker than you thought.

You decide to get more water.

As you get to her kitchenette, she glances at you from the bathroom beside it.

“You okay?” she asks, and you turn to her. She’s mid-chop, the scissors loosely sitting in her grip. She’s also taken her top off. Now donning only her bra and jeans, the swirl in your belly doubles.

The sight is not uncommon for you, but you find it hard to be angry at her when she’s half-naked.

There’s a light dusting of loose auburn hair on her shoulders, and she drops the scissors, reaching up to run her fingers through her hair.

You glance down at her chest, seeing the faint muscles flex as she stretches. Her jeans hang low around her hips, and it’s only then that you notice they’re unbuttoned.

How hadn’t you noticed that before?

“Babe?” “Hm?” you hum, snapping back to her. She’s wearing a bold smile. Your throat constricts. “I asked if you were okay.” “Oh –” you start, quickly turning to the sink. You pour more water, shaking your head. You remember where you are. Remember what’s happening.

“No,” you start, crossing your arms under your chest, “you were mean.” Ellie pauses. When you turn back to her, there’s an amused smile on her face, “Mean?” she asks, “Yeah – “you firmly jut, sipping your water. “I’m not a child Ellie.” Ellie mimics your stroppy face and puts her arms under her chest, too.

You risk a glance at her chest and see that her nipples are hard, peaking through the soft fabric of her bra.

Fuck. You snap back to her face.

“What do you mean?” she questions, cocking her head to the side. She begins to sway towards you, and you don’t move as she comes to rest in front of you – your back to the kitchen counter. There’s a second where your brain short-circuits. You forget that you’re meant to be mad at her. Her long fingers reach up, and you glance at her hand, breath caught in your throat. She smooths your hair behind your ear, inches away, “You’re my wittle baby.”

“You’re annoying,” you quickly groan, trying to suppress your smile as you turn to put the glass in the sink.

Ellie groans, “Ughhhh, I know I know, I’m awful—” and reaches around to take the empty glass from you and put it in the sink.

You stare at it. You could have done that. You were about to do that.

 She takes your hand, turning you to face her again.

“Come help me with the back.”

Your intertwined hands rest between you, pushing against your bare thigh.

Ignoring it seems like the wisest path. “Why should I?” you quirk, a faux frown on your face.

She’d put your glass in the sink. She’d taken the glass out of your hand and put it in the sink for you. Ellie pouts, pushing her bottom lip out, and she leans her full body weight on you, hips flush against yours, suddenly so close as she whispers, “You don’t want me to look pretty?”

Your belly flips. The smell of her, citrusy and damp, floods your nostrils, and you try to blink away the sudden dizziness that threatens to wash over you.

It’s then that you realise you’re not all that drunk anymore.

It’s just Ellie.

Your eyes flick down to her lips.

You trace the pink of them, focusing on the little cut she’s got there from chewing nervously. The air is suddenly thicker – all-consuming, and on your belly, you feel the brush of the button on Ellie’s jeans.

Warmth blooms, confusing and sudden.

Ellie’s silent. Looking up at her, you find that she’s studying you, too. Lavish green bathes you and you feel her unlock her hand from yours, pushing them onto the countertop on either side of your hips. The movement forces her closer, and you instinctually lean back, gasping as she follows you, forehead against yours.

You grab the back of her neck to stabilise yourself.

Her hands have moved to hold your hips.

There’s a fleeting second where you think she’s going to kiss you, but she instead brushes her nose against yours, and your mouth opens, a small hush of breath escaping.

Whatever this is, it’s never happened before. This is uncharted territory.

Your fingers stuff into her loose auburn strands, and you look down at where your body connects, seeing the tops of her breasts in the fabric bra. Her hardened nipples push at the cotton.

You drag your lips together, inhaling a shaky breath.

Looking back to Ellie, she’s watching you watch her. A small, crooked smile has absorbed her lips, and her cheeks are flushed pink, warm under your curious gaze.

She looks at your mouth, pushes her forehead against yours again, and inhales deeply, exhaling as she whispers, “Really wanna kiss you.”

Your heart picks up speed, the beat of it making your skin prickle -- your fingers numb.

A nervous panic finds you, and words fail as Ellie lazily gazes at your lips.

Your fingers move in her hair, cradling the back of her head, and, “Kiss me, then,” you whisper.

You barely see Ellie’s fleeting smile before she’s moving to press her lips to yours.

Her touch is tentative. Nervous, as she thumbs your hips, soft lips brushing against yours. Your eyes flutter closed, leaning into her mouth, and Ellie hums, the sound of it echoing through your body.

She pulls away for a second – maybe to centre herself - but you come back, excitedly brushing your tongue over her lips before kissing her, swallowing the surprised groan she emits.

Her hands tighten on your hips, while yours come to clutch the back of her head again. She tastes warm and new, the feeling unfamiliar, but you quickly become accustomed to it as she tongues her way into your mouth, body pressing tight against yours.

Heat consumes, warm and sudden.

For a fleeting second, you think, I’m kissing my best friend, but the thought is pushed away as Ellie’s hands greedily push behind you, flattening against your ass.

A gasp flutters out of your mouth, followed by an immediate swirl in your belly.

You move your hand, massaging the muscular side of her stomach. The kiss picks up as your hands move, your thumb running over the band of her bra.

Ellie whispers your name, desperate and breathy, and suddenly, it’s all too real -- you pull away.

Your eyes flutter open, and you swallow a gasp.

“We’re going to be late,” you rush, hand flattening on her stomach. Ellie takes a minute to collect herself. You can’t look at her as she watches you, emotions a whirlwind.

Eventually, her breathing settles. “Shit, yeah. The party,” she whispers, and she pulls back, hands leaving your body, the heat dispersing. She itches the back of her neck, nervously looking around. “Er – fuck. Lemme put a shirt on,” and as she looks for one, you lean against the counter, head hung back as you silently curse at the ceiling.

The walk to the party is silent.

Ellie – bless her heart – keeps a tight grip on your hand, thinking you’re still tipsy, but the alcohol has faded from your veins, replaced by a thicker, more visceral intoxication.

The touch of her is maddening.

You try and keep up, but your brain is foggy, and you’ve suddenly forgotten the way to the Tipsy Bison.

Ellie’s hand in yours is like a homing beacon.

Really wanna kiss you.

That’s what she’d said, right? The tenor of her voice consumes your mind, followed by the taste of her, and the slow-building desperation as she pulled you against her.

You hear the reverberating sound of her quick breathing as the bar comes into view, bright lights pouring out of its windows.

When Ellie pushes the door open, she drops your hand.

“Look who decided to finally show up!” Jesse hollers when he sees you. A hot acid shoots through your chest.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you mumble, pulling away. Ellie glances at you, eyes sombre, and you think she’s about to say something, but no words make it out. “What’d I miss?” you hear Jesse ask. You clench your hand together. Really wanna kiss you.

Of course, Joel is behind the bar. His smile is welcoming and warm as he takes you in.

“Fashionably late?” he quirks as you lean against the wood.

“Er, yeah. Something like that,” you mumble, then motion behind you.

“Your girl always has the best timing.” Joel squints. He flicks his curious gaze between you and Ellie, noting the way she’s watching you, and his mouth twists, teasing. “I think you mean your girl.”

“What?” you snap, head craning to Joel. His smile widens. Panic blooms again. “She say something?” you rattle, not bothering to hide the eagerness in your tone, and Joel shakes his head, pouring you a drink. He pours two, and slides them to you, “Not a word.”

The night passes in a blur. You spend most of it with Claire from the Kitchen, ignoring the burn at the back of your neck from Ellie’s eyes.

It doesn’t matter where you scamper off too – her gaze always finds you, searing a hole in your spine.

At one point, Claire cuts you off mid-sentence, “Sorry, Ellie’s looking at me weird.” “What?” you ask, turning immediately. You find the green-eyed girl staring, and when you glance at her, she quickly snaps away, almost flinching. With a sigh, you turn back to Claire.

“It’s not you – it’s me. It’s—” you shake your head, “—a long story.” “Well, maybe you can explain later because she’s coming our way.” You twist, and sure enough, Ellie is pushing through the crowd, half-full drink in hand. When she looks at you, she takes a sip, as if she needs the liquid courage.

Quickly, she’s inches away, and you smell the musky citrusy warmth of her. Take in her frame from your seat in the booth. Really wanna kiss you.

Her eyes find you, and they’re glazed from what looks like whiskey in her tumbler.  “Um. Can we talk? Please,” then, “Hi Claire.”

Claire waves. There’s a beat of silence where you just look at Ellie – your friend, Ellie, who you just kissed – and you find that you’re rooted to the spot.

You don’t want to talk about it.

Don’t want to talk about how dizzy she made you feel, how you’d begged for more, reaching for the warmth of her lips as you dragged your hands over her narrow body.

Kiss me then.

When you don’t move, Ellie’s features freeze, and there’s fear there – please. Please talk to me.

You begin to slide out. Put on a front for Claire who is looking between the pair of you, perplexed. “Yeah, sure Els. Sorry, Claire, I’ll find you, okay?” Ellie holds a hand out for you to hold, but she pulls it back, scornful of the instinct. Shame, as you were about to grab it.  

When you get out of the Tipsy Bison, you realise that the temperature has dropped rapidly.

You’re about to comment on the weather, but Ellie is turning, suddenly, stopping near the notice board and holding her hands up.

“I’m sorry,” she spits, the apology loud in the chilly air.

There’s no one around. They’re all either in bed or at the party, and the empty streets of Jackson make her apology more real, almost – just the two of you.

Music bleeds through the wood, swirling between the pair of you.

She clasps her long fingers together and starts tugging at them, wringing them out like a wet towel.

“I’m – fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry for kissing you it was…” she shakes her head, not able to find the word. Her lip wobbles and you remember that Ellie’s an emotional, needy drunk. “…I’m sorry,” she whispers again, words cracking. She looks at her Converse, ashamed. You take her red hands. Smooth your fingers over the marks she’d rubbed into them, silently begging for her to look at you.

Ellie had never kissed you before. But thinking about it, there’s not an ounce of regret floating in your body.

Confusion, sure but confused because you want it to happen again.

You bend to look at her, saying, with every fibre of your being that “It’s okay.” She’s quick to brush you off. Still looking at the floor, she states, “You were drunk.” “I wasn’t that drunk, Ellie. You’d plied me with food, and I had two glasses of water.” She shrugs, “Still.”

Taking a tentative step closer, you tug her hands, holding them close to your belly. Ellie runs hot and holding her has taken the edge off the chill.

Kiss me then. “I asked you to kiss me, Els.”

And I’d ask you to kiss me again if you weren’t so sad. Did kissing me make you sad, Ellie?

She slowly raises her head. There she is.

You husk, “I’m sorry if I made this confusing.” “No – I. I shouldn’t have,” she flexes her fingers around yours, “said what I said. I didn’t mean it.” Your face falls. Quickly, you try and pull the mask back up, but you squeak, “You didn’t mean it?” Ellies pales.

“Fuck—” she pulls her hands away, turning her back to you.

“I always say the wrong shit.”

Without her touch, the Jackson cold consumes you. A blue wave crashes into you. Lonely.

You’re lonely, standing on the porch of the Tipsy Bison, watching her back move as she rubs the base of her palms into her eyes.

She spits a curse. The air swirls under your skirt, and you suddenly feel a sickly feeling in your belly.

Your voice is a shell of itself when you whisper, “Ellie. We can just forget it happened if that’s what you want.” You get no response.

Had you made it all up? Had you read it wrong? Had Ellie even said what you thought she had?

“Please say something,” you breathe, picking at your nails.

You lick your lips and taste the ghost of her, hot and desperate in her apartment.

The musky taste of her will haunt you. Will consume your dreams, you’re sure of it, and you’ll wake, startling back into Jackson with that Blue Wave knocking into you once again.

Her back flexes. Silence ticks. Music bleeds, tinny – not real. Might as well not be.

The echo of the kiss fizzes at the back of your teeth like the hard-boiled sweet Ellie had slipped you during a drill one morning.

It’s lemon, she whispered, just don’t choke on it when we run.

You turn, ready to run back to your apartment and hide under your duvet.

Rid yourself of this shame that has suddenly consumed you, the Blue Wave that runs cold, but warm Ellie takes your hand, pulling it to her.

A gasp lodges in your throat, and Ellie’s speaking, spewing the truth at you with wild, green eyes.

“I did want to kiss you, fuck. I did. I did, I did---I do!” she brandishes the words like a weapon, planting it into Jackson, the first man on the moon.

 “and I—probably should have waited for a better moment. But you were just—” she huffs, shaking her head at herself, holding your hand like it’s hers and she’s not really holding it, just, feeling it there, the constant feel and not feel of your limb, warm and fuzzy from under the skin.

You watch her swallow down a thousand eventualities, a thousand ways to phrase her thoughts.

Finally, “I do want to kiss you,” she concludes. After a beat, she flashes you a small Ellie smile, and Jackson isn’t cold anymore. It’s summer. “Okay,” you whisper, nodding. “Okay,” she copies. “Cool.” “Yeah,” another Ellie smile, “Cool.” “You wanna go back inside? I’m freezing.” “Yeah,” she nods, holding her/your hand, “Cool.”

[phoenixblaze1412]

HCs for reader and Dottore who have a child pls? - 🐓

Having a child of his own was a topic that Dottore rarely talks about. He already has his segments of different timelines and ages, why would he need a child when he can create a child segment of himself?

During Pregnancy

Dottore didn't expect for you to waltz into his lab, hug him from behind and suddenly announce that you're pregnant with him going to be a father soon. Even the segments stopped working on their tasks as they stared at you in shock.

You were shocked to see the doctor faint and fell to the floor, the vials he was holding shattered when he dropped it. You were panicking the whole day while the segments reassured you that Dottore will be fine.

The news of your pregnancy eventually reached the ears of the other harbingers. Most of them congratulated you while some, Pantalone mostly, just teased Dottore at how a mad scientist like him could be able to create an infant properly instead of creating it in a lab.

Regrator even gifted him with books like 'Parenting 101', 'How to care for an infant', 'How to be a good father and husband'. Dottore was definitely pissed about it.

The whole pregnancy progress actually went smoothly. With your husband as a doctor and scientist himself, he immediately has a medicine for any pain or cramps that you are feeling.

The only thing Dottore couldn't handle well was your cravings and mood swings.

Sure he experiments on a lot of things, humans and machines for example. But he doesn't experiment on meals. He and his segments could only watch in shock as you eat a Jueyun Chili popsicle. You literally just froze the damn ingredient and stuck a popsicle stick on it.

"Are you sure you're supposed to be eating something spicy while pregnant? I don't think that's good for the baby, love."

"If you don't shut the fuck up, I will stick this up your ass."

He immediately turned and walked away when he saw you bite a large chunk of the food, proving you weren't bluffing. He decided to just let you be, you would come to him later and ask for affection anyways.

Whenever Dottore is busy and can't be by your side, Pantalone is there to be your company at the time. Pantalone would literally spoil you, if you ask him anything you want, he only need to snap his fingers and you immediately get the thing you asked. Dottore didn't liked it though.

"Come now, doctor. She told me you weren't letting her have what she wants most of the time."

"That's because I'm doing it for both her and the baby's health. Besides, she is my wife, Regrator. Go fuck someone and make them pregnant then you'll come to experience what I'm going through."

During Labor

When your time for labor came, Dottore was the one to personally help you deliver the baby. He doesn't trust any other doctors or midwifes. Besides, his segments are also there to assist him.

What he didn't expect though is for you to crack Delta's fingers from gripping too hard. Strangled Gamma when he encouraged and told you how easy it is to just push the baby, when it's not. Even punched Alpha to the gut when he tried to calm you down. Omega and Theta had to hold you down by grabbing each of your arm so you wouldn't hurt anymore segment.

What surprised him even more was when you yelled out curses and threats towards him.

"Just one more push, darling."

"I'm already pushing you fucking cocksucker! If you weren't such a whining bitch, I wouldn't be in much pain! I'll fucking chop your fucking dick off and feed it to the rishboland tigers!"

Dottore could only stand in shock as he held the baby in his hands. He knows he's supposed to be happy since he's holding his child in his arms but your threat made him froze in fear and possibly traumatized.

Epsilon and Sigma gently took the crying infant in his grasp before cutting off the umbilical cord and went to clean the blood off.

In the end, both you and Dottore were tired from the whole event but you two happily held your newborn baby.

Aftermath

Your child was loved by not just the segments, but the entire fatui harbingers as well. Pierro and Pulcinella becoming the grandfathers while the rest of the members are either the aunts or the uncles.

Dottore actually did read the books Pantalone gave him and surprisingly, he's doing great.

Whenever you or Dottore are busy, Dottore would let a segment or two babysit your child. He doesn't trust his fellow harbingers when it comes to taking care of his kid.

One time he let Arlecchino babysit, he came back to see both her and Columbina dressing up your child like it was a doll. It was cute, from what the damselette said, but he prefer his child wearing the same color palette as his.

He is not going to let 'Uncle Childe' babysit. He could already tell that the ginger war freak would try to teach your infant how to hold a weapon at a young age.

You had to convince your husband to not be too overprotective of your child and let the others at least spend a bit of time with 'mini Dottore', Sandrone was the one who gave the nickname.

Your baby's first word was 'Lonnie'. Both you and Dottore had to chase Pantalone around the palace for him being your child's first words instead of Mama or Dada. Luckily their second word was Dada, you were a bit disappointed it wasn't you.

Your child has Dottore's soft, blue, curly hair meanwhile their eye color was the same shade as yours. The only problem was they had the same sharp teeth as your husband. You had to endure all the biting from both your child and husband.

Dottore would be the one who teach your child how to read and learn. He lets you teach them how to write, his own handwriting is barely understandable and he doesn't even have the patience for it.

You have a family picture of you three and another with all the segments placed on your bedside drawer.

There was another time where you and Dottore let the segments take care of your child while you both go out to the city and enjoy dinner together.

You both came back to see your child asleep in Omega's arms while the other segments were trying to wipe away the colorful doodles your child drew on their faces.

Since Dottore is the last one to go to bed due to him wanting to finish his work for the day, he would expect to see you and your child on the bed asleep already.

He would lay down beside you, your child in the comfort of your arms as you both dozed off to sleep. Dottore could only smile and place a kiss on both of your foreheads before wrapping his arms around your figure and pulling you and your child close to him.

[yesimwriting]

False Prophets

A/n was looking through my drafts and decided to let this logan fic leave the vault also fun fact the title is inspired by a line in a gracie abrams song

Summary: After the laboratory that's served as the only home you've ever known is ambushed by those that don't believe in the mission you've dedicated your life to, you're left with no other option but to trust the stranger that helped do so.

Warnings/info: slight allusions to manipulative use of an unspecified religion, reader has a touch of stockholm syndrome bc she was raised by a cult that experiments on mutants, brief mentions/implications of being medically abused by a caretaker, age gap (reader is in their early 20's)

----

The knife is as intangible as everything else. You squeeze the blade's handle regardless, knuckles straining against your skin as you try to force the metal's weight to mean something to you.

How did--how did things turn so quickly? Father Daniel grabbed you by the arm, he dragged you up the stairs and into the above ground. He gave you little instruction and even less explanation.

Protect the cause. That was all he could say before the defiers found you. Things had moved so quickly, your instincts allowing you to neutralize an assailant before--before the world became little more than a nauseating haze.

The pulsing ache behind your skull, the weight of your limbs, the resistance of your lungs, the dark spots clouding your vision. You set a palm against the floor, the coolness of the tile doing little to ground you. It's not unusual for you to feel unwell after over exerting your abilities, but this has been something else.

You need to--to evaluate, to begin the contingency process. Who knows how much time you've lost?

You bend your legs, hand pressing against the ground as you try to stand. A sharp pain immediately latches onto every tendon in your body. You screw your eyes shut. Breathe. Breathe.

A soft creak brings you back to where you are. The handle in front of you begins to twist. The door's pushed open, revealing a man who occupies too much of the doorway for you to consider bolting.

His attention shifts around the small space before settling on you. Everything about the stranger is harsh--his stance, his expression, the blood staining his clothing and skin.

The man takes a step forward. You flinch, head hitting the closet's back wall. He presses his lips together before exhaling. He holds his hands out in front of him as he steps back to where he was before, behind the doorway's threshold. "I'm not going to hurt you."

One of the many lies Father Daniel had warned you about. When you don't respond, the man sighs again. "So drop the knife. You look more likely to hurt yourself with it than me."

The perceived weakness only adds to your mounting unease. You scoff. He may have the physical advantage, but you have something he doesn't. You tilt your head, ignoring the pounding of your skull as you focus on mentally reaching for him. He's easy enough to latch onto, but actually doing anything takes more from you than you'd ever admit.

You take a deep breath, letting your energy build before pushing it onto him. It takes longer than it should, but eventually, your mind finds the strength to obey you. Just as the man's starting to bend to your will, his feet beginning to drag against the floor, your hold on him lapses.

Great--you've revealed your only real advantage and for what. You try to stand a little straighter, eyes landing on the stranger. You stare at him with wide eyes, fear making it difficult to breathe right. Father Daniel has always warned you about what happens to your kind in the real world.

You don't know what you expect from him--anger, horror, something else equally brutal. Instead of displaying any of that, the corner of his mouth briefly pulls itself upwards. "Got it out of your system, kid?"

"I'm not a kid." The raspiness of your own voice surprises you. "Where is he?"

He seems to know what you mean immediately. "The man that held you hostage and experimented on you for what--twenty years?"

Of course that's what he'd believe. "Father Daniel is a visionary with a divine calling, who is doing what he needs to do to pioneer a better future for mutants and humans alike."

"Yeah? Is that why he hasn't let you go outside in two decades?"

You scoff. It's not--the situation isn't like that, and to pretend that things are that black and white is ridiculous. You've been outside. Family outings to the movies after particularly strenuous medical trials, birthdays, and sometimes Christmas. Sure, you're not worldly, but that's the cost your family pays for safety. Until society is no longer cruel to your kind, you're safer in the lab.

If you were feeling a little more like yourself, you'd tell him all of this. But all you can manage is a defensive, "I've been outside."

His eyebrows draw together, something in the look coming terribly close to un-harsh. He doesn't believe you. Whatever. This man's opinions mean nothing to you. The only thing you know about him is that he's one of the ones that decided to invade your home in order to target you and Father Daniel's work.

His eyes drift downwards, landing on the band-aids stuck to your forearms. Some urging part of you wants to explain that things aren't always like this. That your labs and medical trials only make a fraction of your life, that these last few weeks have only been extra uncomfortable because Father Daniel has been getting closer. But the words needed to explain this to a stranger feel so far, and you doubt he'd be able to understand, regardless, so you settle for turning your forearms away from him.

"Congratulations," he mumbles dismissively, attention shifting away from your arms, "You're going again."

"What?" He sighs, as if there's something deeply irritating about the question. He can't--he can't possibly mean to take you from here. You squeeze the knife's handle. "No. I'm not--" Your protests don't impact him in the slightest. "No."

"I know it doesn't seem like it," there's something measured about his gruff assurance, "But you'll be okay if you come with me. I'm taking you to people that want to help you."

You press your a hand against the wall, as if the plaster will offer you a means of escape. "No one like you wants to help someone like me."

He watches you for a moment, something behind his expression becoming a little less fragile. "Someone like me?"

The man takes a measured step forward, crossing the door's threshold. Dread digs into you as your mind tries to reach for him. You've barely touched his energy before a piercing ache in your skull forces the connection to snap. If the stranger noticed your attempt at self defense, he gives no indication of it, taking another step in your direction.

He continues forward, his movements slow and definitive until he's so close you have to tilt your chin upwards to look him in the eye. Like this, his anger feels less...prominent.

After a moment, his eyebrows draw together slightly. If you didn't know any better, you might have mistaken the look for a barely there grimace. The man drops his gaze downwards, and you follow his line of sight.

His hand, the back of his palm--he had been weaponless before. And now, sharp, metal blades have split his skin from the inside out. You lift your chin to meet his gaze. He's not exactly smiling, but there's something gentle about the set of his mouth.

You angle your head downwards again, carefully pulling your free hand away from the wall. You move slowly, holding your arm out between the two of you for a moment before letting your pointer finger touch the edge of one of the blades. In another life, you might've been willing to tell him how cool you find his mutation.

He pulls back immediately, his hand moving away from you as his claws retract back into his skin. "You get it now?"

You press your lips together. Just because he's a mutant doesn't mean he's like you. Very few people understand your family's mission, and he isn't one of them. The fact that he broke in here is proof of that. But the ache in your skull is too disorientating for you to be efficiently hostile, and maybe there's a small chance that the fact he wanted to ease you when he could have easily just attacked you is throwing you slightly.

There is no good answer, so instead, you offer another question, "Where is he?"

"He left." The response is flat. "Ran downstairs and then disappeared."

What? Father Daniel--he left. That's not...that's not part of the contingency plan.

Okay--you let out a breath in an attempt to neutralize your expression. If Father Daniel left, he must have had a reason. There are other things that needed protecting. He'll come back.

You must look as thrown as you feel, because the man sighs. "Do you understand now?" When you don't react, he pauses. "You can stay here--in an abandoned warehouse, or you can come with and--and get some help."

Help. The word digs at you. You're not--not some kind of victim. You were chosen for a higher purpose, your mutation was given to you so that you could help others. However, that doesn't mean that the prospect of staying here, in a now compromised lab, without your family, isn't much more unappealing than leaving with this stranger.

You swallow, ignoring the lump in your throat as you weigh your options. Maybe there's something to remaining within a certain proximity to those that attempted to destroy Father Daniel's work. You could learn about their operations, their goals and desires; then, when the time is right, you'll have information to share with your family. It might not be the simplest task, but it's better than waiting.

This man also knows more about the outside world than you do. You could always just use his offer as a way to get some distance and then bolt once you're somewhere more secure. It might be easier to find Father Daniel from somewhere...out there.

You can't will yourself to look at him as you nod, wounded pride only amplifying your anxiety.

"Okay." His voice gives you no indication of what he thinks of your compliance, but something tells you that he'll be cautious of you for awhile. "You gonna drop the knife?"

The request is spoken so casually, you do briefly consider listening. You've never been much of a physical fighter, and you're sure the stranger could easily overpower you regardless of your small weapon, but you can't bring yourself to let it go. Besides, the stranger gets to have multiple knives physically attached to him. You should get to keep your one.

You briefly lift your chin in a vague gesture towards his hands. "I'll lose mine when you lose yours."

Some aspect of him seems to shift, his brow relaxing and his lips pressing together. The differences are gone too soon for you to dwell on them, his expression returning to its default blankness as he turns. You assume that's the closest thing to an 'okay' that you're getting, so after a beat, you follow him.

----

a/n i was considering adding to it and it lowkey feels like a waste of lore not to, so if you'd like a part 2 lmk!!

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

TAKE CARE OF YOU [8B]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 11,971

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: it's here, holy moly. I'm glad I split it up otherwise this would've been a 23k word chapter 😂 love all of you for reading though and double love the beautiful souls who leave me words of kindness!]

Chapter Specific Warning: masturbation (F), reader is a thirsty bitch (which like is totally fair considering Joel Miller is 🥵), fluff and my usual attempt at humor, angst (but like the 'please trust me as the writer babes' kind)

08: YOU'RE JOEL MILLER'S SUGAR BABY!

"in the mess of feelings, focus on what is important, what brings peace to your soul, and let all the rest go." -all is not lost

The room was sweltering. You were damp with sweat. It’s the first thing you notice when you slowly begin to awaken. The second thing you notice is the strong arm resting around your waist and the firm chest at your back. Your groggy sleep heavy mind reminds you that Joel and you had gone to bed not too long after you iced his hand for him. Granted, being tangled in his limbs was a new thing.

You took a deep breath and settled against him. Everything about this moment screamed comfort. The soft morning sunlight streaming through the window, the warmth radiating from Joel’s embrace, his soft breaths fanning against the back of your neck. You could spend eternity in his arms.

Your squirming hadn’t woken Joel, but his sleeping form shifted to match yours. Any leftover drowsiness you had vanished when you felt something firm press against your ass. It took you a beat to recognize what was pressing into you because there was no way it was what you thought it was. Joel gave off ‘big dick’ energy without a doubt, but this was significant enough that you had to be mistaken. You squirmed once more and Joel’s arm tightened around you, pulling you in closer, and there was no mistaking it now. The hard bulge pushing perfectly against you was his cock. Holy fuck. When Joel had said he was a ‘big man’ yesterday you thought it just meant his broad shoulders.

Joel let out a soft sigh, a content mumble, and in a panic you let your body go limp and closed your eyes once more. Seconds later, you felt Joel stiffen behind you⏤ sucking in a sharp breath through his nose. You kept your own breathing even and smooth as Joel stayed completely still. Finally, he slowly pulled his hips back, trying not to shift the mattress, and untangled his arm from you. You rolled over and continued to feign sleep. 

“Jesus Christ.” Joel mumbled softly. You heard his soft steps padding across the room behind you, and you didn’t move until the bathroom door shut. 

You rolled onto your back then and lifted your hands to cover your face. 

Idiot, idiot, idiot. You chastised yourself. There was an ache in your core that you only had yourself to blame for. All these missed opportunities. You went to bed last night without kissing Joel. You woke up this morning and pretended to still be sleeping when Joel’s dick was literally pressed against your ass. The sound of the shower kicked on and your mind involuntarily conjured an image of Joel under a spray of hot water. The urge to slip your hand under your waistband and touch yourself was growing more and more overwhelming by the second. 

After a glance to the door, your need shoved common sense to the back of your brain, trampling over it to get in control, and your hand slipped into your pants. This had to be fast and the absolute dripping desire you found told you that wouldn’t be tough to manage. You dragged your middle and ring finger up your wet lips to the apex where you let it curl around your clit in circular motions a few times. Your breath hitched and you pushed your fingers back down through your wetness to sink into yourself. With the memory of his cock pressed against you and his hot breath on your neck, you were already dangerously close to snapping. The pace you found with yourself was fast rather than the languid way you usually would pleasure yourself, and you let the heel of your palm grind against your clit. It was startling how quick and hard you came at your own hand with the image of Joel’s broad shoulders and rough hands in the forefront of your mind. The beginnings of a cry accidentally slipped from your lips and you bit down on the inside of your cheek to shut yourself up. Your hand lingered against yourself as you caught your breath and let the waves of pleasure ebb and flow over you. 

The shower squeaked off and you sat up breathless, hand yanked out of your shorts. You could hear Joel moving around the bathroom and you struggled to calm your racing heart. As you shifted in place, trying to piece yourself back together, the feel of your now soaked panties was made more apparent and the back of your neck burned with a new warmth. You sent a silent prayer up to whatever deity may be listening that there wouldn’t be a noticeable damp spot on your sleep shorts when you stood.

  Much sooner than you thought, the bathroom door opened and your spine stiffened to sit straight up with your hands resting in your lap. Joel stepped out, hair damp and slicked back, with a towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes landed on yours and widened, “Hey. Hey.” Joel cleared his throat and his hand fell to readjust the towel on his waist. “You’re awake.”

“Mhmm.” You hummed with a tight lipped smile. Joel stood in the doorway like a deer in the headlights and you felt a weird awkward tension. There was no way Joel heard you. Not over the sound of the shower. Plus, you were mostly quiet. The tension must be coming from somewhere else. You pointed your hand out toward him with a nod, “So, I didn’t kick you last night, right?”

Joel’s face cracked into an amused smile and he chuckled, “Not a bit. I’m impressed.” Joel came further into the room and nodded back toward the bathroom. “You need it? I can change out here.”

“Yes. Yes, please.” You slid out of the bed and tugged the edge of your shirt down a bit⏤ not that it helped in covering your shorts. Joel’s eyes trailed up your legs to meet your gaze and you tried not to feel self conscious in your morning state. Between the bed head and the state of your underwear, you felt like a spotlight was shining down on you. 

Without pausing, you made a beeline to the bathroom. Before you got too far past Joel he caught you by the elbow and pulled you a bit closer. Your face burned warm under Joel’s stare. It was soft and warm, but underneath that was a hunger in his eyes that you were positive would remain burned into your memory forever⏤ haunting every dream you had of him. The corner of Joel’s lips twitched up. “I gotta say it proper.” He pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger and traced the bottom curve of your lip. “Good mornin', sugar.”

“Uh, yeah.” You mumbled in a daze. Joel raised an eyebrow at you skeptically, and you shook your head with a small laugh. “I mean, good morning, daddy.”

“Good girl.” Joel approved. As if you hadn’t just touched yourself at the thought of him, you felt a new ache between your legs demanding attention. He tapped his fingers under your chin once and pulled away. “Go on. I wanna spend as much time with ya as I can 'fore I’m dragged away for work.”

You smirked and scrounged up every ounce of bold bravery you had in your body to reach out and set a hand on his bare chest. Joel sucked in a sharp breath and the look of hunger burned so hot you could’ve sworn you literally felt the heat on your skin. “You could always play hooky with me.”

“As temptin' as that is,” Joel cleared his throat and rested his hand on top of yours, allowing his thumb to rub against the back of your hand, “Tess'd literally castrate me if I skipped anythin' today.”

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” You teased before you even considered the words. Joel raised his eyebrows with a slight tilt of his head and your eyes widened at your own words. “I, uh, I mean,” You used your other hand to point to the suitcase, “I should… I need to get ready so we can… yupp.”

Joel squeezed your hand then lifted it up off your chest to press a soft kiss against the palm of your hand. At the simple touch, your entire body relaxed and you thanked that same deity you prayed to moments before that the hand you settled on his chest hadn't been the one you pleasured yourself with.

A part of you wondered if you were going to melt into a puddle right here and now. He nodded his head toward the bathroom with a small smile and let go of your hand. Your first step away from him was more or less a stumble. Joel chuckled and you scrambled to grab a swimsuit and cover from the suitcase before rushing away to compose yourself behind closed doors and out of view of those tempting, hungry eyes.

When you stepped out of the bathroom twenty or so minutes later, dressed for a casual day by the pool, you were met with quite the sight. Joel was in the process of putting on his watch, but his outfit was what caught your eye. Joel was going golfing apparently. He had on a pair of khaki slacks with an olive collared, short sleeve shirt tucked into it. The shirt was just tight enough to stretch across his broad shoulders and the sleeves clung tightly to his thick arms. A pair of sunglasses were hanging from his open collar.

“Hello, Tiger Woods.” You said appreciatively. 

Joel glanced over briefly before doing a double take. His own eyes traced slowly down your form before confidently meeting your eyes once more. He chuckled, “Tiger Woods?”

“It’s the only golfer I know off the top of my head.” You replied and closed the space so you could reach out and run a hand down his arm. Joel’s eyes followed your hands' movements. “I like this look on you. Very preppy.” Joel’s gaze snapped to yours and he raised an eyebrow in question. You grinned impishly, “Golf Daddy.”

Joel laughed in amusement and shook his head. You looked around him to see his wallet was resting on the dresser by a black baseball cap. You frowned, “Are you gonna wear a hat?”

“Was gonna. Why?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen you in a hat before.” You shrugged. It just seemed a damn shame to hide Joel’s fluffy hair. Every time you saw him, you craved to drag your fingers through it. Not even in lust either. You just wanted to play with his wild slightly curled locks that seemed to have a mind of their own regardless of how Joel tried to shape it. Not to say you weren’t thirsty for this man. You also wanted to tug on his hair as he buried his tongue between your legs. The sudden and intrusive thought had a pang of desire cut through you. Jesus, at this rate you’d have to throw yourself into the pool head first just to cool off a bit. “Lemme see.”

Joel appeased your request and picked up the hat with an over exaggerated sigh⏤ as if you were asking him to carry the world. He pulled the cap on and tilted his head at you in question. Still doing whatever they seemed to want, his hair stuck out around the edges of the hat in half curls that you wanted to twist around your finger. “Well, sugar?”

“Okay. I guess I approve.” You grinned.

“Glad to hear it.” Joel reached out and set a hand on your waist to tug you a bit closer. “Ya know, I got a stetson at home. Does that meet your criteria or do I gotta get rid of it?”

You recognized the word and your eyes widened at the thought of Joel wearing an actual cowboy hat, “No, you don’t. You’re joking.”

“I’m from Texas.” He countered.

It was pathetic and sad the lengths you would go to see Joel Miller in a cowboy hat. The thought of Joel Miller in nothing but the cowboy hat flickered through your thoughts and you took in a slow breath. Fuck. Never mind throwing yourself in head first, you’d have to drown yourself in the pool to get these thoughts out of there. You cleared your throat, “I will allow it.”

“Really? Don't even gotta try it on for you or nothin'?” 

“Well,” You shrugged, “I wouldn’t be opposed to a… a viewing.”

Joel chuckled and tapped his hand against your waist a couple times before grabbing his wallet and sticking it in his back pocket. He motioned for you to follow him. “C'mon.” You grabbed your phone and hurried after him. “You’re usin' up all our breakfast time droolin' over me.”

“I am not drooling over you!” You gave him a light push.

“Don’t worry.” Joel paused as you both neared the door and before you knew it his arm was wrapped around your waist to tug you into his side. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You got me all hot an' bothered too, sugar.”

Flustered and giddy, Joel whisked you away for breakfast.

The two of you ended up at the same little cafe as yesterday, but this time they were serving breakfast dishes rather than the more broad brunch option. Joel had apologized profusely for taking you to the same place since he didn’t have time to take you out of the resort to eat somewhere else. You found the whole situation hilarious because never in a million years would you have even thought to complain or be bothered by it. Hell, you didn't pay it a single thought until Joel brought it up.

“Can I ask for a favor?” Joel suddenly asked as the two of you left the cafe. Your eyes widened to a degree that you were sure was comical. All the time you spent with him, and he never asked you for a favor of any kind. Joel never requested anything. You were actually happy to hear him ask because you wanted to give him more. 

“Anything, Joel.”

Joel chuckled but quickly cleared his throat. There was a look of anxiety written across his features, but when he spoke his voice still stayed strong and firm. “Stay in the Wynn today.” Despite broaching the topic as ‘asking for a favor’ there was a finality to his word that left no room for argument. “I’ll walk ya to the Wynn pool, I reserved a cabana there for you too, an' when you’re done just stay on campus.”

It wouldn’t be a difficulty. It wasn’t like you were being restricted to Guantanamo Bay⏤ this was the Wynn Resort in Vegas. There would be plenty to keep you occupied. You hesitated to respond to him though simply because you couldn’t puzzle out Joel’s expression. It wasn’t a difficult request, and yet Joel still had that nervous energy burning in his dark eyes. Almost as if he expected you to rebel against his request.

“Can I ask why?” Literally, there was nothing out of this building that interested you exploring as a solo errand, you came for Joel, but you were curious nonetheless.

“I hate the idea of leavin' you all alone.” Joel sighed. He readjusted the baseball cap on his head with a frown. “I really did try an' get outta this golf game, but Tess wouldn’ bite. Even Tommy was bitchin’ 'bout it.” He grumbled the last words with a tinge of annoyance.

You shook your head with a laugh and touched his arm. “Joel, it’s fine. I’m a big girl. I can find something to occupy my time until later today.”

“I know, but I brought you here to show you a good time, sugar.”

“You’re working. This is your job.” You tried to reassure him. Joel didn’t seem appeased, but he squeezed your hand and pulled you through the lobby. You leaned into his side with a smirk. “Besides, if you don’t go to work, how are you going to be able to afford to take care of me?” Joel’s face stretched out into a wide smile. His dimple was ever present and you couldn’t help but lift your free hand to poke him lightly in the cheek right over it making him chuckle. “I’m a needy girl.”

“You’re somethin' alright.”

“Something good?”

Joel rolled his eyes at your teasing smile and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it. “Somethin' absolutely incredible.” 

Your cheeks warmed pleasantly at his words. Joel was so charming and forthcoming with his compliments, yet every single time he spoke your heart would flutter. You never tired of his words of praise, and it was probably because they were always said with so much sincerity and warmth.

Joel was walking you to the pool, you knew that, but you were surprised when he walked out of the building with you and into the pool area. He scooped up a couple towels when you passed the stand and then he led you to a cute, little cabana. It was close to the water so you wouldn’t have to travel far, but it looked like it sat on a more secluded side of the pool.

“Tonight, we have the work dinner, but afterwards we can go out.” Joel reassured in a firm tone. He had already told you about the dinner. It’d be a collection of other heads of companies and Joel warned you it would be dry and boring. “I promise.”

“I’m looking forward to dinner tonight.” You said and it wasn’t even a lie. He gave you a dry look. You shook your head and cupped his hand with both of yours to squeeze his. “I am!” You shrugged a bit in mild embarrassment as you admitted the truth. “I always look forward to spending time with you, Joel. No matter what we end up doing.”

Joel’s gaze softened, and you pressed your lips together and shrugged again not knowing what else to do. He chuckled and leaned forward until his lips found the skin right under your hairline. Joel lingered there and your eyes fluttered close as you took in a deep breath of him. The second he pulled away you were already missing his touch. 

“I got my phone on me. You need anythin' at all, sugar, I’m one call away.”

You nodded and Joel lingered for a moment longer before making his leave. As you sat down on the chair outside the cabana, the towels he grabbed in your lap, you watched him go⏤ eyes raking up and down his frame unabashedly. When Joel reached the doors that would take him out of sight, he surprised you by turning around to give you one more glance. His gaze met yours and you spotted his smirk at the realization that you had been watching him go. You couldn't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. Joel winked before slipping away and you flopped back onto the chair with a soft sigh.

God, you had it bad for that man.

You had come to Vegas for Joel, but you had to admit it was kind of nice to have some alone time. It had been a long time since you had sat by a pool and just soaked in the sun. Maybe a year ago now? Nathan and you had taken a trip to the beach one weekend. It wasn’t a bad trip. Hell, it was possibly one of the last times you were really happy with him. But, it was a far cry from where you were now. Sitting in one of the lounge chairs in the shallow end of the pool with a book in one hand and a drink in the other⏤ not a care in the world. That was the difference. Unlike the last time you sat by a pool, you weren’t thinking about work or rent or bills. You just enjoyed yourself.

“Hi, is this seat taken?”

You looked up from your book to see a woman pointing to the chair next to you. She was gorgeous with a white one piece that complimented her curves and her light brown skin tone. The woman wore a large sun hat with her black hair tied off in two braids. 

“Oh, no. Go ahead⏤”

“Oh my god!” She chirped suddenly and you jumped in surprise at the squeal. She settled on the lounge chair but sat on the side of it so she could face you. “You’re that woman!”

You nodded blankly, “I am a woman, yes.”

She laughed and waved her hand. “My bad. Guess I should’ve been more clear. You’re Joel Miller’s sugar baby!” Your eyes widened and you just stared at her in shock. She paused in thought then snapped her fingers and said your name. This time your jaw dropped as the shock doubled. “You are her, right?”

“That…is me.” You replied slowly. You set your book and drink down on the side table and turned on the chair with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

“I go by Yo-yo.”

You pressed your lips together and glanced back at your drink. You only had the one pina colada so far, but it sure as hell felt you were wasted. What was going on? While you tried to puzzle out if you were having a stroke or not, Yo-yo settled in her chair and pulled a bit of sunscreen out of the bag she had set on her own side table.

“Yo-yo?” You questioned skeptically.

She glanced your way and rolled her eyes, “It’s a ridiculous name, right? I wasn’t about to use my real name. Plus, my sugar daddy liked it. You do what you gotta to get that bank.” She winked at you. “Am I right, or am I right?”

“I have so many questions.” You mumbled.

“Hm?”

“How do you know my name?”

“You're with Joel Miller. It's always a big deal. I mean, handsome bachelor, filthy rich, and that sexy accent and voice? Ugh.” Yo-yo groaned. “I am so jealous. My daddy is CEO of Simmons Construction. Very rich, but he’s 62 and it shows.” She finished rubbing sunscreen on her front and held the bottle out towards you with a sheepish smile. “Can I bother you with getting my back?”

You took the sunscreen and stood to rub it into her back like she asked. While doing so, you asked, “I know there’s this supposed ‘sugar baby’ network, but I’m not seriously this infamous am I? For you to know my name?”

“Normally, no.” You finished her back and she turned back around. You handed her the bottle. “But, not only did you nab the sexiest Texan to ever exist, but you also pissed off Rosalind Turby.” She laughed and you winced. Yo-yo shook her hand at you. “No, no! I’m not criticizing. I’m honestly impressed. Rosalind is such a cunt.”

Your eyes widened. “That woman is becoming a bigger part of my life than I thought she would.”

“Oh, if you stay in this game, baby, she’s your new god.”

“She’s that important?”

“Rosalind is Queen Sugar Baby.” Yo-yo rolled her eyes and pulled on a pair of sunglasses. “She’s been running this game for ages, and she’s very serious about her girls being the perfect ‘baby’. And if you’re not then she makes your life hell.”

You scoffed, “So, I pissed her off by not being a ‘perfect’ sugar baby?”

“No,” Yo-yo held up a finger to you, “You pissed her off because you took what she wanted.”

“Joel?” You cried. The woman had come to your bakery for her shot of him, yes, but you didn’t think she’d hate you enough to make you infamous around the community. “Seriously?”

Yo-yo pulled her glasses down the bridge of your nose to shoot you a wide grin and wink, “Can you blame her? God, Joel Miller has a face that was made to be ridden.” The weather was close to 100 degrees, you were cooking, yet still her words brought a whole new level of heat to your face. She pulled her sunglasses back up and moaned. “Girl, you have to tell me how good he is. There is not way he's anything less than fucking fantastic.”

The memory of his devastatingly large cock pressed firmly against your ass this morning made your breath hitch. Yo-yo continued to stare at you, as if waiting for you to elaborate on the dick you had yet to see, and you steered the conversation away. “So, do I need to worry about Rosalind showing up at my house with a meat cleaver?”

Yo-yo laughed, “Don’t worry about it. You’re not the only one on her shit list. She hates me too, and I’m not dead yet.”

“You too?” You asked. “Did you steal Simmons’ CEO from her?”

“Ugh, nobody wants that man. He’s basically satan. I’m doing the world a favor by keeping him away from other women.” She laughed. “No, no, she hates me because I technically ‘scam’ my daddies. Fucking ridiculous if you ask me.” She put the word in air quotations. “But, why shouldn’t I trick them? You can’t trust these men. They’re all just old pervs looking to wet their dicks.”

“Not all of them.” You said firmly. That wasn’t Joel. Yes, he was technically a sugar daddy, but that wasn’t what your relationship with him was. 

Yo-yo held her hands up in mock surrender. She sat up and threw her legs over the side to face you once more. “Listen, you gotta look out for yourself. It’s easy to get lost in the relationship, especially if you’re actually attracted to the guy, but after a few daddies you realize they’re using you. So, why not use them? For example, Simmons buys me a lot of really nice things, but I don’t keep it all.” She smirked. “I sell it on the side. It’s barely even a scam considering he’s buying the stuff for me to have. That means I can do whatever I want with it. Daddies don’t like the idea of a baby saving up money for themselves though and Rosalind has a stick up her ass about it. But, hey, I got a nice little nest egg saved up for when Simmons decides 25 is too old for him and wants a younger girl.” She shrugged. “You should consider it. Purses and dresses and jewelry are all nice, but they won’t last.”

You twisted your lips at her words. Honestly, you thought what she was doing was smart. The situations between you were different though. Right? Joel cared about you. He wanted to take care of you. A sinking feeling filled your belly. Yo-yo suggested planning for the future, and realistically speaking… Did you even have a future with Joel? You were planning on initiating something, giving into the temptation that was Joel, but where would something like this go? You felt like there was real chemistry between the two of you, but that hardly meant he wanted you around forever.

“How…” You shook your head and hoped the negative thoughts would loosen and fall away. There was another question you had for her. “How were you so sure I was Joel’s sugar baby. He could've brought anyone with him.”

Yo-yo waved over a waitress. “Easy. We’re in Vegas for the same reason. To be shown off.” You furrowed your brow and she shot you a curious look. “You’re coming to the dinner tonight, right? With all the contracting bigwigs?”

“I…am.” You nodded.

“Good. I know the other two sugar babies that’ll be there and they take this ‘getting shown off by their daddy’ thing so seriously. It’ll be nice to have someone normal to talk to.” Yo-yo replied as the waitress reached you. “Yes, I’ll take a mai tai. You want anything? It’s on my daddy.” She smirked and wiggled a gold credit card in her hand. 

“Sure, I’ll… take the same.”

Yo-yo continued speaking to the waitress and you settled back in your lounge chair. You and Joel were different. He didn’t bring you to Vegas to show you off. He brought you here to spend time with you. Granted, there was no reason he couldn’t do both. You shook your head. No, Joel’s intentions were pure. He took care of you, defended you, and he never once pressured you into anything you were uncomfortable with. Joel had given you no reason to doubt him. 

“Joel didn’t bring me to show me off.” You said firmly once the waitress left. You wanted to defend him. Joel wasn’t like the guy she was with right now.

Yo-yo frowned and waved her hand at you. “I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to upset you, I swear. I don’t even know the man and obviously you do. Maybe he is the unicorn of sugar daddies. Caring and kind and genuine. Hell, I hope he is.”

“What we have is…” You almost said the word ‘real’, but you worried Yo-yo really would think you were just some doe-eyed, naive fool. “It’s different. I’ve never done this before, and neither has he, so we’re learning together. Just having fun and… What?” You noticed Yo-yo was giving you a look that could only be described as pity. “What? What is it?”

“Joel Miller has had a sugar baby before.”

You felt a chill run down your spine as you stared at her in dumbstruck shock. One of the things that put you at ease about this relationship was the fact that he was just as new to this as you were. The two of you sat in an awkward silence as the world continued on around you. 

“Did he tell you that you were his first?” Yo-yo asked.

“No. Rosalind did.”

She nodded. “That makes sense. Rumor says the girl with Joel Miller was like us. Rosalind didn’t consider her legit.” You opened your mouth, but Yo-yo seemed to read your mind. “I don’t know much else. The only reason I know she exists is because when I was talking to a friend of mine about Rosalind's temper tantrum over you she mentioned this wasn't the first time Queen B lost her shit over Joel Miller.”

“That’s okay.” You mumbled.

Yo-you gave you a sheepish smile, “Hey, at least it wasn’t him who lied to you. That’s a good sign, right?”

Right. Joel never lied to you. But, it bothered you that he never mentioned it to you. Both of you discussed past relationships and he never brought up the fact that he had a sugar baby before you. In fact, the way he talked about how he was ‘lovingly bullied’ into this, and went on dates with other babies that didn’t go well, almost implied to you that you were his first. Yo-yo changed the subject, trying to cheer you up, and eventually the waitress returned with your drinks. You smiled and nodded when necessary in the conversation, but a part of your focus was still stuck on this news.

A doubt had been planted, and like a weed it’s roots crept deeper and deeper until it was anchored in place.

Yo-yo was fun. You liked her. In fact, you wished she didn’t live in Seattle because you would love to introduce her to Nima. They’d get along well. To a degree that was arguably dangerous to the LA region, but fun nonetheless. 

You spent the entire afternoon with her and even got lunch with her when the sun became much too exhausting to bear for another second. She recommended a place on the strip that was renowned, but you stuck with your promise to Joel and asked if the two of you could stay in the Wynn. She wasn’t condescending or judgemental when you explained why. She actually agreed happily.

Overall, your day had been fun. The only issue being the lingering doubts about Joel. He texted you throughout the day. Little comments here and there either mocking the men he was with or asking how you were doing. Every sweet text reminded you of what Yo-yo said and then you felt sick with guilt over having anxiety about him to begin with. It was why you were dressed in your pajamas lying on your back in bed staring at the ceiling with your phone resting by your head.

“Listen,” Nima spoke through facetime, “You say the word, and I will use all my miles to fly out there right now and kick his ass for you.”

“Joel didn’t do anything wrong. He never lied to me. Rosalind did, technically.”

“He didn’t lie, but he also didn’t tell the truth.”

You shook your head, “He didn’t owe me that truth.” This was oddly working for you. Nima defended you while you defended Joel. Unorthodox, but that was kind of your life right now anyways. “Joel said he’d never lie to me and he hasn’t. That’s what matters.”

“Do you know any more about this other sugar baby? The one before you?”

You frowned at the phrasing and reminded yourself of the same things you were telling Nima now. Joel never owed you anything. There was no need for him to bring up the information, and you had never asked. You just assumed Rosalind was telling the truth and that was your first mistake.

“No.” You said. “Just that there was one, and Roaslind didn’t like her.”

“Okay, but at this point, have we met anyone that Rosalind does like?”

You shrugged, “Joel?” Nima laughed through the phone and your lips curled up at the sound. “Thanks for this, Nima.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” She said. You rolled over and picked up the phone to look at her. She was still in her office at work, but since it was already after five you assumed she’d be going home soon. “You can thank me after I beat the man senseless with a baseball bat.”

You shook your head, “He’s literally the boss of your boss, and you think kicking his ass is a good idea? It’s gonna be hard to keep your job after that, and I’m sure the letter of recommendation they gave you wouldn’t be all that grand.”

“Are you kidding?” Nima smirked at you confidently. “When you’re as good as I am at what you do then kicking your boss’ ass is absolutely an option. I get job offers on a weekly basis.”

“You’re such a badass.” You chuckled.

“I know.” Nima beamed. The sound of her office door opening made you pause and Nima glanced up from her phone to answer the question of whoever poked their head in. You sighed and let your head fall forward to rest on the bed. Joel would be back any minute now, and you should be getting ready for dinner. Before coming, back when you had been shopping, you asked Joel what kind of settings you had to dress for and he mentioned the dinner. With his help you had picked out a dress specifically for the dinner. At the time it seemed the usual amount of cute, but now your plaguing thoughts wondered if he helped pick it out because the whole point was to just show you off. “Babe?”

You lifted your head to see Nima was staring at you in concern. You offered her a sad smile, “I just wish I could turn my dumb brain off for like two seconds.”

“Your brain is not dumb.” Nima replied. “It’s smart and beautiful and kind and loving. It’s one of my favorite brains”

Your smile turned sincere, and you shook your head at her, “What would I do without you?”

“Well, for one, you’d have to buy your own baseball bat to beat Joel with.”

“I’m not beating him with a bat.” Nima opened her mouth and you cut her off. “And I’m not letting you do it either.”

The sound of the door chiming and being opened made you say quick goodbyes to Nima who forced you to agree to text her an ‘SOS’ if you needed her skills with a blunt object. She also took the time to assure you that she had a friend in Vegas who could definitely help hide a body.

“Hey, you here?” Joel’s voice called out.

You tossed your phone back onto the bed before making your way out into the main room. Joel had showered and changed out of his golf clothes after the game. You had still been poolside at the time. Then his afternoon was filled with work. He wore a plain dark gray, bordering on black, suit with a white shirt and a pink tie of all things.

“Pink?” You motioned toward him. 

Joel readjusted the tie and gave a sheepish smile, “Fathers day gift from the girls. The color is a⏤ it’s an inside joke between us.” Joel nodded toward you with a furrowed brow. “Not that I’m complainin', 'cause I like the look, but pajamas aren’t really in the dress code tonight. Need some more time?”

“I uh…” You blurted with no prepared excuse in mind. 

Whatever look you wore on your face though was enough to fill Joel’s with concern. Joel closed the few feet between the two of you and cupped your face. “You feelin' alright, sugar?” One of his hands crawled up to feel your forehead. “Sick?”

“No, I’m okay.” You shook your head. “I think I was just in the sun too long today.”

“Did'ya drink 'nough water by the pool?”

“I thought so.” You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Now, I’m wondering if that last pina colada should've been an ice water.” Joel returned the smile, but there was still worry in his dark eyes. “I’m sorry, Joel. I don’t know if I can do the dinner tonight⏤”

Joel shook his head, “Hey, don’ worry yourself 'bout that. Dinner doesn’ matter.” He gently tugged you toward the couch so he could settle you on the cushions. “Do ya need me to take ya to a doctor? I’m sure I can find an urgent care 'round here that’s open, and if not the hospital is⏤”

“Joel, no.” You said firmly. “Seriously. I’m just…tired, I think. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizin'.”

You twisted your lips in guilt. Joel was paying you to keep him company and you were bailing on the main event. He was paying you. You didn’t often think those words because it left a bitter taste in your mouth. Joel brushed some hair from your face.

“Can I get ya anythin' while I’m out?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Alright.” Joel leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You got your phone?” When you told him it was in the bedroom, Joel fetched it and brought it back to you. “Call me if you start feelin' worse. I’ll be back later.”

You nodded, “Good luck at the dinner.”

Another wave of guilt washed over you as you watched the door shut behind Joel. In this kind of situation most people would probably be angry. Nima was angry. You were so conflicted that you couldn’t even be angry correctly. You flopped back on the couch and lifted your phone. A bullet point list had been made to keep your thoughts straight when you met with Joel for the first time. Maybe a pros and cons list would help you decide if you wanted to be angry, guilty, or just sad.

Pro: Joel made you happier than you’ve been in a long time.

Con: He was paying you which made you more of an employee than a friend or lover.

Pro: Not having to worry about your bills has taken such a weight off your shoulders. One you didn’t even know you were carrying.

Con: That was a lot of power to give him. If you quit your job like he wanted too then you’d really be reliant on him. 

Pro: You were beginning to feel real emotions for this man, emotions you thought your ex had destroyed.

Con: If Joel didn’t share those real emotions you were going to get really hurt.

Pro: You were beginning to believe he did truly care for you.

Con: You had no idea if you were mixing that up with a man just showing interest in his sugar baby.

Pro: A part of you was starting to be okay with the sugar baby status. Relationships sometimes had really weird starts. People had met in weirder ways.

Con: If you really weren’t his first sugar baby, then the question remained. What if you were just one of many? You were young and poor and willing to let him control your life. It could just be what gets him off?

You stared at the list in front of you for another beat before mumbling a string of curses. That had somehow confused you more. This would be easier if you could detangle your feelings from this. View Joel in the same way Yo-yo views her sugar daddy. A means to an end. This even allowed you to jump his bones. You had no qualms with the idea of casual sex. It was like Nima had pointed out though, your last relationship had been serious and monogamous. Despite that, you truly believed you could handle a casual relationship. The issue was you already had feelings for the man, and you were bad at ignoring that.

It was approaching close to an hour since Joel left and you were still agonizing over your pros and cons list while Netflix played in the background, and you were half tempted to call Nima again. You only resisted because you knew if you called her again she’d take that as an invitation to meet you in Vegas ready to go to war. The sound of the door chiming startled you and you were half off the couch in panic when Joel stepped through.

“Hey, how’re you feelin'?” He asked. You stared at him blankly. In one hand he had a large brown bag and in the other a small bouquet of sunflowers in the other. “Sugar?”

“Joel!” You blurted and rose off the couch to greet him. “What’re you… The dinner! It can’t possibly be over yet.”

“Never went.” Joel set the bag on the nearby table and held the flowers out to you. “I asked the lady what flowers meant ‘feel better soon’ 'nd she said tulips, yellow roses, or sunflowers. Choice was obvious 'nough.” You took the bouquet and held them to your chest⏤ still speechless in shock. “Then I went to pick us up some food. It only took me so long 'cause of Vegas traffic an' I had to go off the strip to find a place.”

“But… But dinner?”

Joel grinned boyishly with a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “My options were go to a stuffy dinner with guys I got no interest in seein', or have a night in with you.” He began to loosen his tie. “C'mon, sugar.”

You blinked at him. “Tess?”

“Will probably kill me.” Joel pulled the tie off with a shrug and gruffly added. “But she wants to kill me most days anyways.” He nodded to the bedroom. “Gimme a minute. I’m dyin' to get out of this damn suit.”

Joel tapped under your jaw with the side of his fist before heading to the bedroom. Even after he disappeared from view you stood frozen for another few seconds. Finally, you snapped out of it and walked over to the table. You set the flowers down and peeked into the bag to see the to-go food he mentioned. Carefully, you unpacked the bag and after the second box you realized it was Korean food. You froze again and felt a lump form in your throat. A while back, during a late night phone call, you had mentioned to him that Nima introduced you to Korean food by taking you home to meet her mother, and it had easily become a comfort food to you too. There was a Korean place a few blocks down from you where you’d pick up food on your way home on particularly bad days.

“I tried to order the soup you were talkin' 'bout, but you used the Korean word for it an' I sure as hell wasn’ gonna pronounce that right.” Joel spoke up from behind you. You spun to see him leaning against the doorway in a plain t-shirt and pajama pants. “So, I just described it to the woman an' she gave me the closest thing. Seaweed soup?” You nodded dumbly. “Good. Just in case I ordered a bunch of other stuff too.”

Suddenly, the pros and cons list you made didn’t matter all that much to you. Because right now, in this moment right here, Joel cared louder than the anxiety yelling in your brain. You dated Nathan for two years and he outwardly told you that he loved you. But before the two of you moved into together, when you had separate apartments, you paid for his rent when he lost his job, yet when you needed help covering your water bill once he claimed he wasn’t comfortable giving you so much money that early in the relationship. So much money being $100. When you asked him about one of his exes not only did he blatantly lie to your face about the last time he had seen her and after you found out he forced the three of you to get dinner together to prove whatever stupid point he was trying to make. And, right before you broke up, when you had caught the flu and begged him to pick you up some food from the place down the road, he refused because he said he didn’t like the smell of kimchi and didn’t want to go into the restaurant.

Your eyes filled with tears and Joel’s face fell. He pushed off the door frame in a hurry and pulled you into his arms. You buried your face into his chest and tried to bite back a sob. Joel soothingly cupped the back of your head, “Hey, you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You murmured into his chest and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be crying.” 

Joel shushed you softly and pulled you back so he could meet your gaze, “None of that. It’s okay. You’re okay.” His hand cupped under your jaw as his thumb traced back and forth on the skin there. “Talk to me, sugar.”

You stared into his eyes and felt nothing by safety and warmth. “I’m just really thankful for this. For you. Just… Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me, Joel.” 

Joel’s lips curled into a soft smile, “What have I said 'bout thankin' me for things I wanna do?”

Rather than answer, you just held his gaze. Joel did the same and the air between the two of you felt charged. There was always an energy bubbling anytime you were with Joel, but this was stronger⏤ more tangible. His eyes darted down to your lips then back up. Joel was going to kiss you. You were so sure of it. When his eyes darted down to your lips again you let them part. Anticipation electric on your skin. Joel sucked in a sharp breath. He leaned in, but his lips didn’t land where you thought they would. Joel set a kiss on your forehead, right above your eyebrows, and lingered there. 

He had kissed your forehead before, did so right before he left an hour ago, but this was more intimate somehow. Your eyes fluttered closed and you took in a slow breath before letting it out. Joel pulled his warm lips away from your skin and let his own forehead rest against yours.

Your eyes stayed closed as you soaked in the feel of his hot breath against your skin and a pang of disappointment shot through you. “Joel…”

“I know.” Joel’s voice was hoarse and rough. “I… I know.”

Slowly, you let your eyes open and found Joel with his eyes already on you. “It’s okay.”

“You are…” Joel locked his jaw and closed his eyes. 

There was something holding him back. You saw it written all over his face. Maybe you should worry that this had something to do with what Yo-yo had tried to tell you. Ten minutes earlier and you would’ve. Your anxiety would have grabbed hold of it, written it in bold on your cons list, and never left it alone. But, right now you felt at peace. That’s what Joel brought with him⏤ a sense of peace and calmness to your very soul. And that’s what you wanted to bring to him. You wanted to take care of him.

Your hands lifted to cup his face and when his eyes opened you gave him a bright smile. “If we don’t eat now the food’s gonna get cold.” His jaw relaxed and he murmured your name. Just as he did to you, you nodded, “I know.” 

Joel cleared his throat and caressed your face once more before nodding, “Come on. Let’s get some food in you, pretty girl.”

While Joel finished pulling out the food, you set the sunflowers in a vase that was probably only meant for decoration and filled it with water. A glance over your shoulder showed Joel setting the food up on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

“I put the wine from last night in the mini fridge if you wanna grab it.” 

“Yeah, sure.” You made your way over and grabbed two glasses while you were doing so. “I gotta see what bribe wine tastes like.”

Joel turned and shot you a skeptical look, “Bribe wine?”

“The Wynn gave you the expensive wine to bribe you into not telling all your rich friends that you and your guest got accosted in the casino.”

He shook his head, “That is not bribe wine.”

“Why are you so sure?” You set the wine glasses down on the table and began to look for the corkscrew. “Do you dabble in bribe wine often, Mr. Miller?”

Joel groaned, “Don’ you start with this Mr. Miller shit.”

“Why not?”

“Because last I checked,” Joel stepped closer as you used the corkscrew you found in a drawer to begin opening the wine, “You’re supposed to be callin' me somethin' else.”

You gave the cork a tug, but it didn’t budge. “Hm, I can’t possibly think of what.”

“Oh, you can’t?” Joel remarked. You shook your head and gave the cork another useless tug. He took the wine bottle from you and, without breaking eye contact, Joel popped the cork out with ease. You went to grab it from him, but he pulled it back with a tilt of his head. “Manners, sugar.”

The worst case scenario would’ve been an awkward air settling in the room around you after coming so close to kissing him only for it not to happen. That being said, Joel slipped right back into the familiar teasing and that made you sigh happily. You held your hands out, “Thank you, daddy.”

“Good girl.” Joel chuckled and let you take the bottle from him. As you poured into the two glasses, Joel scooped up the remote and sat down. You dropped down next to him and handed him his glass. He tapped it against yours. “Any requests?”

“I’m not picky. You can choose.” You took a sip of the wine then hummed. “Mmm, this bribe wine tastes amazing.”

Joel laughed but didn’t take his gaze away from the screen as he flipped through different options, “You’re impossible, ya know that?”

He picked a random Netflix original action movie titled ‘Triple Frontier’ and tossed the remote aside. The movie played in the background, but the two of you ended up talking through a lot of it as you pointed out different foods that Nima had introduced you to originally and he had picked up. When the meal had been finished, you were curled into his side still sipping wine half chatting and half watching the movie.

A moment of silence rose up between the two of you and after a second you filled it, “About the dinner I made you miss⏤”

“First off, you didn’ make me do anythin'.” Joel scoffed. “An' secondly, I swear to God, if you apologize again…”

You chuckled, “Okay, I won’t apologize, but we’re in Las Vegas, the city that never sleeps, and I have us sitting on the couch watching a Netflix movie.”

“This right here is literally my definition of a perfect night.” Joel shook his head at you.

You leaned against his shoulder and decided to mention your afternoon, “I, uh, I met one of the sugar babies that was gonna be at the dinner tonight.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. She goes by Yo-yo.”

“Doesn’ ring a bell…”

“I think she said her sugar daddy is Simmons? Of Simmons Construction?”

Joel groaned loudly and hung his head backward, “Jesus, Simmons? Girl gotta be a saint to put up with that bastard.”

“She did refer to the man as ‘satan’.”

Joel lifted his head and smirked at you, “See? You saved me from a night with satan.” You chuckled. “Zero reason to be apologizin’. I should be thankin' you.”

“I think it’s a shame I didn’t get to meet him.” You hummed. “It sounds like quite the experience.”

Joel sighed and took a long sip from his wine glass, “Yeah, well, there’s always next year, sugar.”

Your eyes widened at his words, but Joel didn’t even blink. It was like he hadn’t even realized what he just said⏤ what he inferred. That you’d be here next year. With him still. You shifted your gaze back to the TV and smiled to yourself. 

After another few quiet moments, you pointed toward the TV with your glass, “That guy looks like you.”

“Him?” Joel asked skeptically. You nodded in confirmation. “I’m better lookin' though right?”

“Of course, daddy! So much better looking.” You nodded. 

Joel chuckled and reached down to pinch your side making you squeal and nearly spill your wine, “Right answer, wrong tone, ya little brat.”

You settled back against him, and Joel didn’t hesitate to tuck you in under his arm.

When the movie ended, Joel clicked on whatever the first suggested movie was so something was still playing, but neither of you paid enough attention to even know the title. The hand behind your shoulder was drawing circles on your shoulder while telling you about how excited he was that his eldest daughter was coming to visit soon.

“Do you have something fun planned?”

“We gotta tradition where we go to the drive in theater. No matter what’s playin'. Just sit in the bed of the truck an' hang out.”

You grinned, “That sounds fun.”

“It is.” Joel nodded and grew silent in thought. You thought he’d follow his last statement up with something else about the girls, but he caught you off guard with something else. “I wanna kiss you so bad, sugar.”

It was a good thing you had already set down your glass of wine otherwise it would have slipped right out of your hands. You sat up so you could turn in place and face him on the couch. Joel’s eyes traced your features with a sigh. Slowly, you nodded, “Do you… Do you want to talk about why you haven’t?”

“I’m jus',” Joel lifted his hand and caressed your jawline with his thumb, “Tryin' real hard to be good.” You opened your mouth to argue that he didn't have to be, but Joel pressed the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip to stop you before a word even came out. “Nah, I gotta. I gotta be good.” He forcibly dragged his eyes up from your lips to your eyes. “I like what we got. I like this. If I do somethin' to fuck it up, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“And giving me just a little kiss is gonna do that?”

Joel’s lips curled into a melancholic smile, “I think you an' I both know if we start it ain’t gonna be just some little kiss, baby girl.”

It was the first time he had used that pet name towards you and you just melted. If he was trying to steer the both of you away from temptation, calling you ‘baby girl’ was not helping. “How do you know that this won’t just get better?” It kind of stung realizing the reason he stopped earlier was because he thought a physical relationship would ruin this. “Why do you assume that would fuck this up? I⏤”

“No.” Joel said firmly and he squeezed his hold on the side of your face at the same time for even more emphasis. “Not you. What I jus' said? I’m talkin' 'bout me. Me fuckin' it up. It comes from… from personal experience.”

You wanted more information. You wanted him to explain more. You wanted to ask him about the sugar baby that came before you. Was that the personal experience he was talking about? All those thoughts, and you somehow couldn’t get a single one out of your damn mouth. 

“I’m only bringin' this up 'cause I don’ want you confused.”

“Confused about what exactly?”

“'bout how much I want you.” Joel replied. You attempted to swallow the forming lump in your throat, but it didn’t help. “I jus' wanna do right by you, sugar. An' that…that’s just gonna take a little time, okay?” You gave him a small nod. “Can we jus' stay what we are in the meantime? If… If you don’t wanna wait for me to get my shit together, if you wanna walk, I understand.”

“No. I’ll wait.” You blurted. The thought of Joel leaving your life was too painful to even consider. The man had carved a slot in your life, and his absence would be noticed⏤ not just financially speaking either. If you walked away, you would miss him badly. Waiting was hardly a cost you had to think twice about. Especially, since you’d still have him in the meantime. Maybe not in the entire way you wanted him, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “If it means being with you, then I’ll happily wait.”

Joel pressed a chaste kiss to your temple before pulling you into a tight hug that you returned without hesitation. This wouldn’t be easy, but it was worth the effort. You pulled back and suggested changing the movie from whatever was playing to something the two of you would actually pay attention to, best of your ability at least, and Joel agreed. He grabbed the remote and pulled you into his side. The two of you were only a few options into the discussion when someone knocked on the door⏤ loud enough that it could probably be referred to a ‘banging’ rather than simply knocking.

“Did you order something?” You asked.

“No.” Joel rose cautiously and held a hand out for you to stay on the couch. There was a tension in his shoulders that worried you.

He only took a step forward when a female voice drifted faintly through the shut door, “Miller, I swear to Christ if you don’t open this goddamn door…”

Joel muttered a curse but his entire frame visibly relaxed. He glanced over his shoulder while approaching the door. “Whatever she says, jus' know I’m sorry for it.” You furrowed your brow at his words, but he explained no further. Joel tugged the door open and a brunette haired woman stormed in. Her light shade of hair was pulled back into a low, loose bun. A style thrown together just to keep it out of her face more than likely. She was around Joel’s age, if you had to garner a guess, and she wore a black form fitting dress that looked incredible on her, but you could see she wasn’t entirely comfortable in it. “Tess⏤”

“You son of bitch.” Tess pointed at him threateningly. She was shorter than him by a head, but Joel still reeled back with his hands held in mock surrender. “See? Can’t even fight back because you know you’re in the fucking wrong.”

“I’m sorry⏤”

“You know who I spent my night with?”

“Tess⏤”

“Putting up with Simmons, Crew, Han, and their trio of bimbo sugar babies.” Tess snapped. You frowned. Yo-yo was hardly a bimbo, she confided in you the reason she was saving up all that money was because she wanted to go back to college and then on to Law School, but she also told you she played it dumb around Simmons so you couldn’t fault Tess’ words. “All so you could⏤”

As if suddenly remembering why Joel had bailed, her light hazel eyes snapped to you. You stiffened awkwardly and not knowing what else to do, you lifted a hand in a pathetic wave, “Uh, hi.”

Tess stared at you for another beat before letting her eyes drag back to Joel in a look you could only describe as irritably smug. “Well⏤”

“Tess.” Joel snapped with fire in his voice. You finally looked away from Tess to glance at Joel. He was stiff again and you recognized the look of anger on his features with ease. “Don’t.”

Tess crossed her arms and scoffed, “Go get dressed. You’re getting drinks with the pricks.”

“I’m what?”

“I spent the last three hours pretending like I didn’t want to stab Simmons in the neck with my dinner fork.” Tess warned. “The least you can do is get that pretty little ass in a suit and go get one drink with him so you can discuss the Golden Plains plans.”

Joel locked his jaw and didn’t reply. Tess didn’t say anything further either. The two just glared at one another. She was sharp and cool ice while he felt like a wild and burning fire, yet it felt like an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force. Finally, Joel huffed angrily and shook his head.

“C’mon.” He grunted at you. He held his hand out as he walked toward the bedroom.

You began to stand, despite not loving the rough, grumbled command, but Tess shook her head. “No sugar babies allowed, per Simmons. Just the big boys for cigars and drinks.”

“What makes you think I give two shits what Simmons wants??”

“Play fucking nice, you ass.” Tess snapped. “You owe me.”

“Because you did your job at one dinner? I⏤”

“San Antonio 2019.”

Joel paused and scoffed, “Never let me live that fucking down.”

He waved his hand at her in irritation before disappearing into the bedroom. You heard the bathroom door slam shut and you jumped in place. The sound had been enough to remind you that you were now alone in a room with Tess. Slowly, you turned toward her to see she was already staring at you with the cold look she had pierced Joel with.

“Hi.” You said sheepishly and offered her a nervous smile. You introduced yourself, “Joel has told me a lot about you. I⏤”

“You two fucking?” Tess blurted. Your face burned and you opened your mouth to splutter out the beginnings of the answer, but she shook her head. “Guess not considering I’m finding you both on the couch fully clothed.”

You set your hands on your hips and cleared your throat, “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Don’t care if we did.” Tess replied. She marched closer and you had to resist the urge to scramble back from the incredibly intimidating woman. “Listen to me right now because I’m only giving you this warning once.” Tess crossed her arms. “The Miller brothers get these dumb fucking ideas in their head, but once they pick one they’re like a dog with a bone. Can’t get them to shake it.” She narrowed her eyes at you. “I told him I thought this was a stupid ass idea, but like I said⏤ dog with a fucking bone.”

“Look, I⏤”

“I’ve known Joel for twenty years.” Tess said firmly. “He’s family. Him, the girls, his idiot ass brother. I’ve been taking care of them from the start and I don’t do well with strangers stepping in to take advantage.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “No, no. This is a misunderstanding. I am not taking advantage of Joel.”

“So you paid for half this trip to Vegas?”

“Uh, no, but⏤”

“And he’s not paying all your bills?”

“Well⏤”

“Footing the cost of every single⏤”

“Hey.” You snapped to interrupt her and Tess’ eyes widened marginally in surprise. You swallowed nervously. Nima knew a friend that could help you hide a body, but there was something about Tess that told you she could drag you out to the desert alone and figure it out herself. “Yes, he is taking care of me, but it’s not just… I care about him. A lot. Joel means so much to me. I’m not just here to make ends meet. I really like him.”

Tess hummed, “Right. You’re one of those rare sugar babies who like a guy for their personality and not their wallet?”

“Well,” You cracked the most friendly smile you could muster to try and break the tension, “It helps he’s gorgeous.” Tess continued to glare at you, and you were tempted to throw a chair through the suite window and leap out just to avoid her stare. Granted, she looked close to just throwing you out herself. “Bad joke. Very bad joke. That was⏤ I’m sorry. When I get nervous my mouth just says things without my permission.”

It was painfully silent in the room as she just stared at you. You cleared your throat and just stood there awkwardly. Finally, Tess spoke up, “You step one toe out of line, and you will regret it. Do I make myself clear?”

The sound of the bathroom door opened and you nodded. “Crystal.”

Joel stepped back out wearing the suit he had earlier, but without the tie. The top few buttons of his shirt were messily hanging open and he didn’t bother fixing his tousled hair. Tess rolled her eyes at him, “Finally. Let’s go.”

“Just hang on.” Joel walked toward you.

“Miller⏤”

“Give me two fuckin' seconds, Tess.” Joel snapped.

Tess scoffed and marched out of the room into the hall without a passing goodbye in your direction. Joel finally reached you and his warm hands cupped your arms. You focused back on him and the softness you had grown used to had returned in his gaze. “So, she hates me.”

“No.” Joel shakes his head. “She don't.”

“You weren’t in here with us a minute ago, I think she might try and kill me.”

Joel chuckled and dragged a hand up past your shoulder to cup the side of your neck. “Tess is just… protective. A bull dog.”

You furrowed your brow, “She compared you to a dog too a second ago.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

Joel kissed your forehead, “I don’ know when I’ll be back so don’ wait up for me, 'kay? Same deal as last time. You need anythin' an' you jus' shoot me a text. Do not leave this room or let anyone in while I’m gone.” You nodded, but Joel wanted more than that. “Understood?”

“Yeah, I got it.” You agreed.

Joel brushed his thumb against your cheek in a caress once more before wishing you a good night and leaving. With both of them out of the room, you felt like you were finally catching your breath. 

Vegas had been a whirlwind, but you supposed that was the appeal of the city to so many. Your hand was tangled with Joel’s as the two of you slowly walked through the lobby. Your bags had already been packed and brought down to the car by the staff. Now the two of you were just lingering for the sake of lingering. Joel told you more about the annoying time he had last night⏤ he hadn’t managed to get back until just past midnight.

You focused on the drag of his thumb against the back of your hand as he spoke. As much as you hated to admit it, you only half paid attention to the words he was saying. Your mind was playing through your meeting with Tess line by line. There was something nagging at you.

Joel squeezed your hand suddenly and you snapped your gaze to see him looking beyond you. He nodded, “She’s callin' you.”

“Huh?” You glanced over your shoulder to see Yo-yo waving to you as she hurried over. She wore a white cocktail dress that clung to her skin. Her hair was curled in pretty wave. “Oh, Yo-yo, hey.”

“I am so glad I caught you!” Yo-yo squealed and pulled you in a tight hug despite your hand still being connected to yours. “Ugh, I missed you so much last night. Can’t believe you bailed on me!” 

“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling good.” You motioned to Joel. “Yo-yo, this is Joel Miller. Joel, this is Yo-yo. She’s the one I met by the pool yesterday.”

“It’s super nice to meet you, Mr. Miller.” Yo-yo replied in a musical tone. 

Joel grunted in agreement with a curt nod. You gave him a curious glance, but he met your gaze. He nodded once, “Stay. I’ll get the car.”

“Oh, okay.” You replied. Joel pulled his hand from yours and wandered away. You furrowed your eyebrow in slight confusion.

Yo-yo chuckled and her tone lost the bubbly tone to return to her baseline normal one, “Wow. He is just as stoic and grumpy as everyone says.” You opened your mouth to argue. Technically, neither of those words described the man you spent your days with, but you couldn’t deny they fit him in the few seconds with Yo-yo here. “Also, he seriously is stupid hot. God. His jawline just makes me wanna gnaw on it. Shame he’s kind of a sleaze ball.”

“I don’t even know what that means⏤ wait, what?” You shook your head as the final part of her statement dawned on you. “What did you just say?”

Yo-yo twisted her lips in a frown, “I seriously am glad I caught you. I mean, I was gonna call you regardless, but this is probably better in person.”

“Yo-yo, spit it out.” You snapped. 

“I did some digging last night when Simmons was out. Called a few girls I actually trust.” She sighed. “Best I’ve gathered, the sugar baby he had before you? Her name is Heather. Granted, I have no idea if that’s her real name or not since a good bit of us lie about that.” Yo-yo reached out to hold your elbow. “Anyways, my friend Tammy says the last time Heather bragged about seeing him was around four months ago.”

You blinked in shock. Four months? That was even less time considering you and Joel had been hanging out for almost a month and a half now. Worse, if it were true that meant Joel lied to you. He said his last relationship had been a year ago.

“That’s not the worst part…” Yo-yo said slowly.

“That’s not…” You lifted a hand to your face. You didn’t mean to snap at her, but it came out in frustration and confusion. “How exactly does it get worse, Yo-yo!?”

She hesitated a beat before sighing. Yo-yo said the words, you saw her mouth move and the words entered your skull, but they rattled around in a way that left your ears ringing. Yo-yo was saying your name in concern, but you were still trying to register her previous statement.

“He married her. Joel is a married man.”

Yeah. Yo-yo was right.

That was worse.

taglist (closed):

@weddingfairy @bfences @fairntonorth @jasminedragon @biwitchy @huffle-punk @shelbyteller @anoverwhelmingdin @aheadfullofsteverogers @stagerightlauren @basicoccult @rinnfey @boofy1998 @farintonorth @thepascalofus @amatis-gray @casa-boiardi @northernbluess @jettia @sapphicsoie @spidey-3 @camiali25 @hrtsforpascal @gingersince97 @sentients17 @bigboiseason123 @lunxramour @ktheunready @heyheyheygaypay @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @adoringanakin @come-hell-or-eldren-fire @cherriebat @whitewolfstar01 @alyssa121611 @asreadbyaj @painfullyandprettypoetic @cantobightcafe @hellooseulgi @str84pedro

[previous][next]

✨J.M. Masterlist✨

[auras-moonstone]

girl, i’m in dire need of some jack angst!! (i know, i’m crazy for wanting my heart to be ripped out by your beautiful writing in the saddest way possible😂)

maybe he and the reader have been dating for a few months and have their first big fight, maybe he’s been a little too close to a girl the reader has been having weird gut feelings about. they break up after some harsh words were said, and a few weeks later the reader sees that he’s dating the girl he told her not to worry about 👀

a few months pass, and jack and the girl break up bc he can’t get over the reader, and he tries to win her back, but soon realises he lost her for good when he sees her ar an event or something with someone else, and it’s clear that they’re more than friends.

(i kinda envision this as actress!reader x jack. and the event could be the oscars + the reader’s new bf could also be an A list celeb)

lyrics that could inspire you:

“'Cause there we are again when I loved you so, Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known” - All Too Well (Taylor’s Version)

“I'm sitting eyes wide open and I got one thing stuck in my mind, Wondering if I dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life” - I Don’t Wanna Live Forever

thank you so much and i’m sorry if this req is all over the place 😂😂❣️

hii! this might be one of the saddest things i’ve written yet. hope you like it<3

break me like a promise — jack champion

word count: 2,949

pairing: jack champion x actress!fem!reader, louis partridge x fem!reader (brief).

summary: jack breaks y/n’s heart, and after ten months he is determined to win her back, he sees her being happy with someone else.

author’s note: when i read “readers new bf could be a celeb” i knew i had to include the other love of my life aka louis partridge aka london boy.

Y/N AND JACK HAD MET THROUGH JENNA ORTEGA. The latter and Y/N both worked for Netflix, so they bumped into each other in lots of events and eventually became super close. And, knowing how big of a Scream fan Y/N was, Jenna invited her over to set and that’s where she met Jack.

No one could deny that sparks flew instantly between them, not even the two people involved. And that scared Y/N a bit, because her last relationship had left her with insecurities and trust issues, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to dive into another relationship.

Jack had been very understanding about it, and told her that they should start as friends. He assured her that he would wait as long as she needed to, that she was worth it. And after months and months of therapy, Y/N finally felt ready to try things with Jack.

They were in a lavender haze for months. Her relationship with Jack was unlike anything Y/N had experienced before. The love she felt for him was so strong that there was no way to put it into words. Jack was her best friend—he had held her hand as she healed, and drew stars around the scars that the previous relationship had left on her. And she never would have thought he was going to be the one who made the wounds bleed again.

Jealousy is often seen as a toxic feeling, and after talking with her shrink about it, Y/N came to a conclusion—the toxicity depends on the way you handle that feeling. So Y/N decided to put her fears on the table, instead of jumping into conclusions. That’s what she thought would be the most healthy thing to do. Jack would be honest with her, and the thoughts that had been eating her alive would disappear.

But as soon as she said the words and saw Jack’s expression of irritation, Y/N knew she should’ve kept her mouth shut.

“Seriously? I can’t have female friend now” Jack spat furiously.

“What?! Of course you can. That’s not what I’m saying” Y/N said calmly. “I just… she clearly has feelings for you. And I’m not saying you should stop hanging out with her, I just need to know if she’s just a friend to you… or if there is room for more.”

“I can’t fucking believe you’re telling me this.” he shook his head in disbelief.

“Jack, I’m not accusing you of cheating or anything, really. You’ve been spending so much time with her…” more than with me, she wanted to add. But that would make things worse. “and I just have this weird feeling. I need to know how you really feel, that’s it. If you tell me you don’t like her, I’ll believe you. But please be honest with me.”

“What I really feel is that you’re suffocating me with your shitty problems.” his demeanour was so calm, but his words were sharp as knives, and they cut right through her heart. She had trouble believing the words had actually left his mouth. “I’ve waited for you for months, I helped you through all of it. And now you’re making this shit up? Grow up.”

Y/N felt like throwing up. She felt like she was about to spit her heart. “You don’t mean that.” her voice broke. “In all of these months, when have I ever brought up one of your female friends? Not once. Because I know they are only friends. But with her, Jack, I just feel like there is something more. And yes, maybe I’m overthinking, but that’s why I’m asking. That’s it. I’m just asking, Jack.”

“Stop being so fucking paranoid. I get that your ex cheated on you, but stop seeing ghosts everywhere.”

“Why are you being so mean? Why are you avoiding the question? It’s simple, Jack. Do you have feelings for her?” Y/N asked, the knot in her throat grew in size when she noticed he couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Jack?”

“We’re just friends, jesus!” he said annoyed. Y/N wanted so bad to play dumb, to pretend she couldn’t see he was lying.

“You know I can read you like a book, right?” she asked softly, sad. “When you lie, you can’t look me in the eyes, you play with your hands and bite the inside of your cheeks.”

“Y/N… fucking drop it. I’m tired of this”

“We are over, Jack” she tried to walk towards the door, but he grabbed her and pulled her against his chest, trapping her in his arms.

He saw the tears steaming down her face and cursed himself. “Shit. No, please. Let’s talk. I’m sorry” he sound like he was about to cry, and Y/N knew she needed to leave. Because even though he had hurt her, the soft spot in her heart was still reserved for him.

“No, let’s just leave it like this because if you keep talking, I’m afraid I might end up resenting you, and I don’t want that.”

“I love you, Y/N” Jack hugged her tightly. “Please let’s fix this. I promise you nothing happened with her, and nothing will.”

“I love you too, but I don’t believe you. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore” and so she stepped away for the arms she loved the most in the world and left without glancing back. If she did, she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave.

EVER SINCE SHE WALKED OUT OF JACK’S HOUSE TWO WEEKS AGO, Y/N HAD BEEN OVERWORKING HERSELF TO AVOID HER THOUGHTS OF JACK CREEPING INTO HER MIND. She had stayed out of social media, and had deleted Jack’s number from her phone to avoid temptations. Her friends kept their eyes on her all the time, worried about the inevitable breakdown. You can only hold back for so long before it becomes too much.

Louis, her co-star, had been by her side as much as he could. And, like every morning, he was waiting for her on her trailer with a caramel macchiato and a shiny grin on his handsome face.

“And a chocolate chip muffin?” Y/N asked, seeing the mouth-watering treat next to her Starbucks drink. “What’s the special occasion?”

Louis stared at her, frowning. Not any indications of having had a break down, not even puffy eyes, which meant one thing—she hadn’t seen the pictures yet. “Nothing” he blurted, showing his charming smile. “Just saw it and had to buy it.”

“You really need to stop buying me these breakfasts, Lou. I’m going to get cavities” Y/N said taking a sip of her overly sweet drink.

“But look at how happy it makes you. Cavities will be worth it, don’t you think?”

“You may have a point. Scoot over” she told him, nudging his leg with her foot. Louis moved his body so that she could sit next to him on the small couch. It was not made for two people, so they were basically pressed against the other, yet they found it comfortable. Especially Louis, whose insides melted because of the closeness between them—his not so tiny crush on her was painfully obvious.

“What are you doing?” Louis asked, trying to keep his voice calm as she unlocked her phone.

“I forgot to check which surprise songs Taylor sang last night” she answered as she opened twitter. “Oh god”

“What?!” Louis squealed.

“She sang Cornelia Street and You’re on your own kid! And I wasn’t there, Lou!” she dramatically dropped her head on his chest. He couldn’t help but sigh in relief. “What is going on with you?” she laughed.

“Nothing. Why?” he laughed awkwardly.

“I don’t know, you’re extra jumpy and panicky today.”

“I’m always jumpy and panicky around you.” he said, trying to brush it off.

“No, you’re not” Y/N furrowed her eyes, locking her phone. Louis eyed the action and his chest relaxed. The girl noticed that, so she unlocked it again and started scrolling through Twitter. On her periphery, she saw the boy’s body tensing again. So it had to do with social media, she guessed. “Louis, I’m not dumb. Tell me what is going on.”

“Nothing” he repeated. “Let’s rehearse our lines.”

“Lou, I love you but you’re getting on my nerves right now. I hate being lied to, you know that.”

Y/N’s vulnerable eyes were his weakness, so he sighed and took her hand in his. “This weekend, some fans caught Jack walking around the city with a girl… and they… um, saw them kissing and holding hands.”

Y/N felt her heart drop, and her eyes started to sting. No. She wasn’t going to cry. She hadn’t let herself cry for two weeks and she was not going to start now. “Oh.”

“Give me your phone” Louis said softly. She was too lost in her own mind to question it, so she just obeyed. “I deleted Tik Tok and Instagram. And silenced any Jack related stuff on Twitter. You don’t need to see those pictures.”

“Louis… the girl… is it her?” Y/N asked, trying to keep her voice in control.

“Stop” his voice was firm.

“I want to move on, Lou. And for that, I need to know I was right first.” she pleaded. “Is it her?” her friend nodded slowly as he brought her to his chest. Y/N did a little nod too, and tried to stand up. “Let’s rehearse our lines.”

“Y/N…” he grabbed her elbow to push her back.

“Lou, please. I don’t want to cry, I don’t want to think about it.” he noticed she was two seconds away to burst into tears. And as much as he knew he would hate the sight of her weeping, it was necessary.

“I know you don’t, Y/N/N, but you have to if you want to move on. You’re never getting over this if you keep ignoring your need to cry.”

“I’m just afraid that if I do, I won’t be able to stop.” she confessed, tears starting to blur her vision.

“It feels like that now, but I promise you it’ll be good for you. You have been holding it back for weeks, and once you let it all out, you’ll start to heal” he said as he played with her hair.

“Two weeks… it took him two weeks to go off and date her. And it’s not only some girl… it’s her. He told me I was paranoid, and now he proved me right.”

Jack had promised nothing would happen between him and that girl, and now he broke his promise just like he had broken her heart two weeks ago.

After the realisation, it was like something snapped inside of Y/N, and one sob turned into desperate crying. Her fragile body shook under Louis’ arms, and he wished he could stop her pain. But he couldn’t, so he just stayed there with her holding her as she let it all out.

AS MUCH AS SHE HOPED THE CRYING WOULD EASE THE PAIN, IT DIDN’T. It had been months of being in a rollercoaster of feelings, sometimes she was okay, sometimes she was great and sometimes she was so low not even Louis’ hugs could lift her up.

The days where she didn’t have to shoot were the worst, because she spent hours in bed and her brain betrayed her by bringing the memories of Jack back. She missed him so much, it was completely agonizing. Why?, she asked herself when the room was dark and she couldn’t sleep. Why did he get to move on while she had to spend her days like that? She has been trying to pick up her heart while Jack was all lovey-dovey with the girl he swore was just his friend.

Jack continued her life without her, while Y/N woke up everyday with his memory over her. She longed for the picture of Jack’s dazzling smile to be gone from her mind. She prayed to forget the sound of his voice as he whispered the sweetest of things on her ear. She wished she could stop hearing his angelic laugh everywhere. She wanted to stop feeling the ghost of his touch against her skin. To forget that his lips were soft and that every time they were pressed against hers she could feel goosebumps all over her body. Y/N just wanted to stop being haunted by the memories of Jack.

Louis had slowly helped her through the process of moving on. He was there to offer his warmth when the wrenching thoughts triggered the waves of tears, and he was also there to make her break a smile once the sobbing stopped.

After eight months, the flood of her tears successfully carried away the thoughts of Jack, and Y/N knew she was finally clean. Not that she didn’t miss him, because Jack was her first love after all, and a small part of her would always love him.

It took her a few more months to be sure if she was ready to risk it again, but Louis’ sweet disposition, how he saw the best in her even in her worst times, showed her that he was worth it. And so she she watched it began again with him.

JACK AND THE GIRL LASTED FOR TWO MONTHS. He never intended to have something with her, but she was interested and he was lonely and sad, so he said yes. But reality crept in soon—he loved Y/N with all his heart and no matter who he was with, his thoughts would always go back to her.

He had been texting her for months, but she had blocked his number. He knew he could easily drive to her house, but he didn’t want to add salt to the multiple wounds he had inflicted on her, it would be selfish. So when Jack saw that Avatar 4 and Y/N’s drama film were both nominated for the Oscars, he knew it was his chance to make things right. To bring back the only real thing he had ever known.

But he didn’t plan on seeing her with someone else. And he knew they weren’t there together just as co-stars, they were each other’s date. The spark in Y/N’s eyes when she looked at Louis was familiar to Jack—it was the way they used to shine just for him. Jack had been the one to extinguish the spark on her eyes, and Louis had managed to light them up again.

And he wasn’t even mad or jealous. He actually felt happy and sad. Jack didn’t understand how it was possible for two opposite feelings to co-exist in his body at the same time. He realized it was a lost battle, yet he needed to do talk to her. For the sake of their once marvellous relationship.

Y/N got out of the bathroom and into the crowded room, but the thousands of people in it became blurry once she recognized the silhouette of a handsome tall boy leaning against the entrance. “Jack?” his name left her lips in a mix of anguish and surprise.

“Hey” he said softly. You look beautiful, he wanted to add, but restrained himself. “I wanted to talk to you.” Jack saw her grimace and continued before she could stop him. “I know. I know it’s the last thing you want, I just need to get this off my chest. You’re not paranoid or insecure. You never overwhelmed me with your problems. You were right, and I was a shitty boyfriend, friend and person, and you have been so amazing and patient… and I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never deserved your love.”

“You did… up until that night.” she said in all honesty. “I loved you so much, and then you said all of those things. I can’t forget about it, because I never expected those words to come out of your mouth.”

“I know, and I really don’t expect you to forgive me. It’s okay and understandable if you don’t, but I needed you to know that those things I said weren’t true at all.” Jack said, pressing his lips in a thin line. “To be honest, I came here with the mind set of trying to win you back” he confessed, and let out a little laugh, as if the idea was now ridiculous. “But I saw you with him and I know that I’ve lost you for good. Are you happy with him?”

Y/N saw his deep brown eyes starting to get glossy and her insides melted. She didn’t see him with romantic eyes anymore, but it didn’t mean the love was gone. She still cared for him with every bone in her body. “I am. He’s amazing.”

Jack smiled. Genuinely smiled, so widely that it made a few tears drop, and before she knew it, Y/N’s cheeks were wet too. “That’s great, Y/N/N. Really great. I’m happy for you.”

And that was the moment Y/N knew Jack honestly regretted the words he had said before their breakup. “I forgive you.”

The tall boy’s eyes widened “What?”

“I forgive you.” she repeated. “And you deserve to be happy too, okay?”

“Thank you” Jack said breathlessly, wiping away the tears.

“I need to go. But it was nice to see you, thank you for coming to talk to me. For real. I really needed that, I think we both needed that.”

And so they both smiled to each other one last time before parting ways. There was nothing left to say, staying friends had never been an option with them. They loved each other too much for that. When it came to Y/N and Jack, it was everything or nothing at all.

[imperatorrrrr]

Can you please do NICO HISCHIER SCHOLARS REPORT part 2?

I'm sorry this is so incredibly late, Anon, but let's go.

So we're going to be doing a deep dive into this Nico Hischier interview from Summer 2021. (Fair warning, these interviewers are...annoying ahahah to say the least, and sometimes do not shut up, but there are some gems from this.) I feel like I haven't seen a lot of content from this video, so I thought it might be a good one to share and also discuss...

First things first, Nico's giving this interview from Switzerland, and from the way he's positioned, I'm going to say he's giving this interview lying on his bed or something. The phone is facing up towards the ceiling and he's kind of facing the phone on top? Like I guess he could have laid the phone flat on a desk of some kind? Regardless, its an interesting choice of positioning to give an interview!

Fun Fact! This is Nico's first time meeting "Mike" and this Mike person ends up being someone that Nico stays connected with. Do you guys remember the sauna pictures and videos from this past season? That was courtesy of this very same Mike.

We all know Nico played a variety of sports growing up, but we learn here that Nico also played tennis, which I think is a new one to add to the list as well as swimming, skiing, and eventually switching to snowboarding.

Nico lived with a billet family. There's a great article that details that. Check it out here.

From youth, Nico was playing hockey with guys older than him.

"I had a really good season there" - big smile when talking about Halifax

He's still in touch with his Halifax teammates.

There's a bit in this interview, which unfortunately gets cut off due to connectivity issues, but basically Nico's asked about whether he was given a hard time by anyone bigger/older than him and I think his answer pretty much sums up the philosophy he has in the NHL now. "It never bothered me...these guys who were talking shit about me, I just didn't care, and just kept going."

"I had fun. Still now, I just have fun playing hockey and hanging out with the guys." - This quote I think is the epitome of Nico Hischier. Like, throw it back to Nico's pre-game speech before one of the playoff games "remember to have fun". That's Nico's entire hockey essence. And then throw it back to the win streak in the 22-23 season "this is the most fun playing hockey I've ever had". He just wants to hang out with his boys and have a good time.

Nico did a little bit of high school while he was in Canada.

One of the interviewers calls Nico "mister easy going, always playful". One of the times Nico met this man, he did a back flip off a bench in the gym. Like, thats Nico Hischier. He's not always mister serious, he's not always Nico Hischier Resting Face™️. He's just a silly little guy.

On Expectations: "I always try to keep that on the outside, always try to focus me on myself...I'll try my best every game, if its not enough its not enough...sacrifice myself for the team...at the end of the career, I obviously want people to say that he was a great player, but its almost like a little bit more important for me to have people say that I was a great teammate, I was a great guy to hang around with, lots of fun. This is my goal a little bit." Like how can you not love the guy?!

There's a whole bit about Nico taking a puck to the face (this was when PK Subban's shot hit Nico in the face back in the February 2021). He talks about the surgery and the actually medical procedures involved. I'm not going to get into the specifics here in case folks are squeamish, but just an FYI its in the interview. If you're not squeamish its very interesting, but trust me you want to skip that part if you are. He goes into detail.

One of the things Nico enjoys the most about playing hockey is the traveling to other cities.

What do you attribute your success to? Nico talks about his family that always supported him. Talent isn't all you need, you need to work hard as well. He talks about how he did things that maybe have been considered "weird" by his peers. When he was fourteen/fifteen he went to Pilates once a week with his sister. He was the only guy in the class. Loves to try new things. If you're not having fun then its not worth it.

Sidenote for anyone wondering about the Devils jersey hanging above Nico? Fairly certain thats a Patrik Elias jersey. If you wanna be in your feels for a bit.

"I do believe in our team. I'm just excited about what's coming up." - this was summer 2021. He has believed for a while that this team has it in them to compete truly.

Nico's inability to say the word "rivalry" will always always always make me smile.

"I want to put the team in front of me."

So during this entire interview, the two hosts are cursing throughout, and near the end Nico says "fuck" and immediately apologizes.

Nico believes he was picked as Captain for the person he is off the ice. "I'm an easy going guy. I don't really have a problem with anyone. I'm just guy you can have fun with. You can come over to my place. We can have a couple of beers, talk about anything, doesn't have to be hockey. If I see a friend is not playing his best, I'm not trying to fuck with him, I'll go talk to him. I'll try to help him."

One of the interviewers ends the interview by saying "you're a special dude"

And that's that. Tried something different with this edition of Nico Scholars, so I hope ya'll liked it.