#let. me. injure. myself. if. i. want. to.

[barcaatthemoon]

perfect || alexia putellas x reader ||

Alexia tries to pull you out of your head when your insecurities become too much.

18+

You had always grown up assuming that you would have found your true love by fairly young. Growing up, everybody that you had known seemed to find their soulmate by the time that they were in their twenties. You had tried so hard for so long, but nothing ever really happened. Until Alexia, you had just assumed that something had to be wrong with you.

Alexia loving you didn't magically cure all of your insecurities. Some of them had gotten quieter, but others became much louder. Sometimes, they were screaming so loud inside of your head that you couldn't function. Alexia was never really sure what you needed whenever you shut down like that, but she still always tried her hardest to pull you out of your stumps.

"Amor, are you awake?" Alexia crept into the bedroom as quietly as she could. The woman had a very heavy tread, but she had been getting a bit more mindful of how she moved around the apartment whenever you were resting. The door opened up fully as Alexia stepped inside to see you laying in bed, wide awake.

"Alexia, you're going to be late for your lunch with Alba," you told her. You thought Alexia had left for it hours ago. She had definitely left to go pick up some things from the market for her mother, who needed a few things for the dinner she was making that night. Alexia was going to go over there, and you knew that she wanted you to come with her, but you had been practically glued to the bed for the past three days.

"Alba canceled because you weren't coming. I swear that she thinks I'm a vessel to hang out with you now," Alexia huffed. Normally, you would have caught onto the fact that she was joking, but you took it as anger. Alexia realized that she had definitely said the wrong thing and scrambled to apologize when you whined and flopped away from her. "Hey, what's wrong amor? What is going on in your head?"

"I don't want to talk about it," you mumbled. Alexia sighed and laid down next to you. You knew that Alexia hated laying down after she had already gotten out of bed. The woman rarely ever took naps or allowed herself rest. You hadn't been there whenever Alexia was stuck recovering from her ACL, but you knew that it had a lot to do with her limited ability to do things while injured.

"I know that you are hard on yourself, and that me asking you not to be won't do much. Just like you asking me to slow down isn't really going to make me stop. We are both very stubborn and stuck in our ways, but that's okay. I have learned to accept your help and support when I need it," Alexia said. You turned to face her, unsure of where she was going with this anymore. "Maybe you should try accepting my love and support a little more too."

"I don't understand why you want me. You could have anybody you want, but you're here with me. What's so special about me?" you asked her.

Alexia cupped your cheeks and rested her forehead against yours as she whispered a single word for her answer, "Everything."

It was fairly impactful, and you found your eyes tearing up a bit. Alexia fought her instinct to panic at your tears, instead wiping them away with her thumbs. You closed the distance between your faces and kissed her. Alexia didn't push or pry with the kiss, letting you show her what you were currently comfortable with.

Alexia would never openly complain about it, but you knew how hard it was for her to hold off physically whenever you got down on yourself. There was a certain level of affection that Alexia had gotten used to with you, and for you to suddenly close yourself off completely left her confused and hurt. For you to kiss her like that while you were upset felt like a huge step, one that Alexia hoped she could use to get you to open up about what in particular had caused you to spiral this time.

"I don't know why you would ever think that you weren't everything that I've ever wanted for myself and more. Would you tell me if someone said something to you that made you think otherwise?" Alexia asked. She had learned very quickly to look out for you. Her family loved you, even if there were a few members who had been fond of exes and believed that those had been the right choices for Alexia. It wasn't an easy decision, but Alexia had lessened contact with them for the time being.

"It's not like before, it's stupid. I just need to stay away from my phone for a while, that's all." You had hoped that mumbling your way through your words would have kept Alexia from understanding you, but of course, that hadn't worked. Alexia knew what to listen for, and you could see her face fall. She blamed herself, just like you knew that she would. Alexia wanted to protect you from everything, and she took it personally whenever she 'slipped up' and something upset you.

"We can both working on being more present," Alexia decided. You were glad that she didn't go in on herself about not catching anything wrong earlier. She pressed a quick kiss to your forehead as she pulled you into her arms to cuddle. You hadn't been sleeping overly well despite spending all day in bed, so you quickly fell asleep in Alexia's arms.

…

Alexia could tell that while she had managed to pull you out of your own head long enough to get you to dinner with her mother and sister, her work was far from finished. You were no stranger to the stereotype that the Spanish were affectionate, you were a pretty big part of that, but Alexia was the outlier. She didn't necessarily have trouble being affectionate, but she wasn't as naturally friendly as Jenni or Leila tended to be.

As she looked at your mood begin to drop again, she decided to take a page from their books. Alexia knew how much the simplest gestures could mean to you, and maybe she was feeling a little brave after a few glasses of wine (and the shots that Alba managed to sneak in without their mother noticing.) Alexia held onto one of your hands, occasionally bringing it up to her lips to kiss.

"You and Alba have got to stop doing shots while you're doing dishes," you laughed. Alexia scoffed, but didn't deny that had been what they were doing. You were free to know that as long as you kept your mouth shut about it to other people.

"I love you. Is it illegal for me to show you that now?" Alexia asked, a bit snarkier than usual. You bit your lip as you looked over to see her pouting. You sighed and pressed a kiss to her cheek as you rolled up to a stoplight. "You look really good tonight."

"Oh, so you're loving on me because you're horny. Okay, got it," you teased. Alexia stammered and stuttered to defend yourself until you gave her another kiss. From that point on, Alexia spent the rest of the car ride trying to kiss your neck. You were glad that nobody seemed to be out because you did not want some random person to catch the two of you like that. "Alright, hands to yourself until we get in the apartment, got it?"

"Bossy, I kind of like it." You gave Alexia a glare until she agreed to listen to you. It came as a genuine surprise when Alexia did keep her hands and mouth to herself. The only time she touched you was to steady herself as the two of you walked down the hallway towards your front door.

You had partially expected for Alexia to be all over you before the door was even shut, but instead, she just calmly led you back into your bedroom. Alexia kept you in your dress, but took her jacket off and started to unbutton her shirt as she made her way over to the bed. You knew that Alexia liked your dress a lot, but you honestly wanted to get out of it as soon as you could.

"Are you going to pout if I don't let you take this off of me?" you asked her. Alexia shook her head as she rolled her sleeves up a little. You bit your lip as you watched the muscles in her forearms flex. "On second thought, Ale can you get the back of my dress. I don't think I can reach."

"Of course, I can. Anything to help you," Alexia muttered as she sat up on her knees. She knelt at the edge of the bed to help you undo the back of your dress. You could feel her eyes on your skin just moments before she just decided to do what she had clearly been wanting to all night.

You shivered at the initial feeling of her mouth against yours. Alexia slowly pushed your dress off of your body, trailing kisses down your back as the fabric fell. You stepped out of the dress and turned around, cradling the back of Alexia's head. She looked up at you as her hands grabbed your hips to pull you onto her body.

"Ale!" you squealed as she flipped you onto your back. You let out a sigh at the press of her body against yours, something that you had been missing in a while. Alexia had been busy, as had you, so there hadn't been room for much other than a quickie here or there. Neither of you wanted to pressure the other for intimacy, so both of you had just sort of let it happen.

"You look good, and obviously I haven't been showing you how much I love you enough. We don't have to do this if you don't want to, but please don't ice me out." You didn't think that you had ever heard Alexia speak to you like that. She was borderline pleading with you, and you knew that it wasn't just for sex. Alexia probably couldn't have cared less whether or not she got laid. What she did care about was showing you every bit of love and affection that she could.

"O-okay, I want this too. I really do, I'm just a little nervous I guess," you told her. Alexia seemed to really take that to heart as she leaned in to kiss you. The kiss was soft and sweet, and Alexia waited for you to pull her in to deepen it. Your lips parted for Alexia's tongue.

You and Alexia shared several more kisses before your neediness set in. Alexia only pushed things on your cue. You pushed at her shoulders, furthering her path down your body. Alexia lingered at a few places, lathering your breasts with kisses. You tried to subtly wriggle out of your underwear to avoid ruining the pair, but Alexia's body on top of yours made it a bit difficult.

"Is something wrong?" Alexia asked as you started to push her off of you a little. With her sitting up now, you were able to pull your underwear down your legs. Alexia looked at you with a somewhat unimpressed look, but it quickly left as her attention was turned to your cunt.

"I was hot." You let out a soft chuckle, one that was interrupted by Alexia's fingers tweaking your nipples. Her fingers continued to pinch and tease while she feverishly kissed you. The kiss was a bit messy, even with Alexia trying to show a bit of restraint with you.

Even your most seemingly romantic sex didn't come with such caution. There was a bit more obvious passion, but you knew that Alexia's love for you was coming through her care. She didn't want to rush you, even if your body was starting to crave the faster pacing.

You held out on begging or pushing Alexia too quickly, and your reward was plentiful. Alexia held onto both of your hands as she ate you out. Her tongue lapped up the juices of your arousal in between its calculated assault on your clit. Alexia alternated between flicking her tongue against your clit and sucking the bud into her mouth.

"Fuck! Ale, please don't stop! Baby, I'm so close," you cried out. Alexia kept her efforts steady, not breaking her rhythm for anything. Your hips were moving wildly against her face, riding her hard enough to nearly break her nose. Alexia stayed strong until your hands stopped holding onto hers.

"I. Love. You." Alexia placed a kiss to your thigh between each of her words. You glanced down to see her lips glistening with your wetness.

"C'mere," you mumbled. Alexia moved from between your legs and leaned against the pillows next to you. You lazily reached up and pulled her down for a kiss, slowly licking the remnants of yourself from her lips.

"Fuck," Alexia groaned. You gave her a couple of sweet kisses after that before you dropped your hands and curled up to lay in her lap. "I know that won't magically fix everything, but do you feel any better?"

"Yeah, I do. Thank you for looking out for me Ale. I love you," you told her.

"I love you too," Alexia whispered as she ran her hands through your hair. You laid like that for a couple of moments before you started to get cold and moved to cover yourself up. Alexia didn't even seem to notice, having drifted off to sleep without even fully laying down yet.

[gothamite-rambler]

What Odysseus should've added

Calypso: I'm not sorry for loving you!

Odysseus: Cal-

Calypso: Let me speak!

Odysseus blinks in response with a look that expressed how done he was with this.

Much later into the song.

Calypso: I wish you would lie and say-

Odysseus: I love you.

Calypso: Really?

Odysseus: I love you for being someone who housed me when I was injured, but that's it and honestly away from that if I became a widow and you showed up to my doorstep saying I can be with your crazy ass I would spin kick you to the ground! You imprisoned me here for 7 YEARS! Like okay, we didn't have sex, I was vocal as Hades playground of that, but I begged you to let me leave almost everyday. I would sleep all day to escape to a fantasy world away from you. One time I dreamed about being stabbed by Poseidon... and I wanted that over being with you! Like can you not take no for a fucking answer?!

Calypso (pouting): I'm a victim too though, I was stuck here for-

Odysseus: Oh my Zeus, Athena and Helios, I get it and I feel bad for you, but feeling bad for you doesn't excuse what you put me through, that you wouldn't let me leave!

Calypso: To be fair-

Odysseus: Don't give me that couldn't contact the Gods, I know how they work and to be honest... you and Zeus should talk because you'd be great friends! Two people who have no basic understanding of consent, take a hint, taking people verbally shouting I DO NOT WANT TO BE WITH YOU is not CONSENT! This song is good though, but for you (and anyone who has heard this song) you're saying everything that isn't taking accountability with a portrayal of you being a bigger victim than me?! I saw my friends die! I chose to let the rest of my crew die! I'm pretty sure my wife is BALLS deep in some creep trying to be king and I miss ALL of my SON'S life! Being kidnapped by you has been the single worse 7 years of my life and if I die out in the ocean it will be better than you rambling about table mats for our 'future' kingdom and how our 2.5 kids will love the songs you sing!

Calypso (sobbing): Well what am I supposed to do then?

Odysseus (sighing): Talk to the Gods! Now as for me, I got a kingdom to get back to. It was ni- I can't lie. Thanks for the housing and food and I'll even say stopping me from killing myself. That's it. Bye forever.

Song resumes. Odysseus floats away on the boat.

Odysseus: She's a good singer. I won't take that from her.

[universalzones]

"If your only intent is to hold a line until all is resolved then why are you preventing official Restoration soldiers from giving us the aid we clearly need? I can fully understand preventing any unaffiliated assistance, though I'm sure everyone formally working here have provided the required ID to prove that." Blaze wasn't going to question why President of the United Federation as of course only someone that high could make this call.

"All you're doing is making you seem more like an enemy rather than a peace keeper. We don't need reconstruction members to be let in only soldiers and emergency response members. Further preventing them from entering will only increase the chance of outlash which I'm sure you know will lead to fighting." That was something the feline wished to avoid.

Then Lupus offered to at least let them get all civilians and injured out of the base. "That is a start, though I refuse to stand down on allowing you to let in more help. If this is about Mimic then I can fully understand preventing people from leaving, though we both know he wouldn't be trying to get in. Now, will you let the people I requested in or risk a fight breaking out?" Blaze was sure she was coming off as strong with hammering in so many points, though best not to give him anyway room to breath.

===========================================================

Belle was a bit surprised how easily she managed to get all the active soldiers, though while not being a head in any of the departments she was still decently experienced with crazy situations like this. The tinkerer's attention would turn to Lanolin taking the task getting them in order off her hand which was easy since they were ready.

"I wasn't going to say anything, honest. I think you're doing everything you can to keep a fire fight from breaking out." Belle was sure Lanolin was doing everything she could to prevent a fight between The Restoration and GUN from breaking out. Then the sheep suggested what she should do should a fight break out.

"I'm not going anywhere, not this time. I already lost one home because of my cowardice to defend myself. I won't lose another because I'm not brave enough to defend others. Besides, I think they'll have a hard time trying to take me in if they attempt to do so." Belle had also been training with her downloaded skills so wasn't going to go quietly if need be.

"Though before that, let me speak to my fellow gearheads for a plan C if things get hairy. After all, we know the inner workings of the base better than anyone." Belle would then find a crate, standing on it. "Alright, I know I'm not the Chief, though if he was here I'm sure he'd agree with this plan. I want all mechanics to cover all the sewer entrance's. If things get bad it'll be our best chance to run. After that we can seal the doors behind and slow GUN down."

"I know we aren't fighters, though we have better ways to help. Everyone here helped build this place from the ground up, that means we know it better than GUN ever will and we'll use that to our advantage. There are seven main sewer entrance's so split up to go to them. We got this." Belle then got off the crate and walked back over to Lanolin.

"Here's hoping we don't have to go with that plan, though it's there if we need it." Belle knew if they had to flee through the sewers then that would mean the base is lost. Something the tinkerer hoped they could prevent at all costs. "So, I'd offer to go with help at the other check point, though I'm guessing you'd at least want me to stick with you."

Lanolin was furious, and she let that anger get the better of her. That frustration taking hold and it was a difficult thing for her to shake. The same anger she felt when she found out Sonic was the Phantom rider, and it blinded her to reason. Yet at this point she'd rather be anywhere then talking to these fools! Besides she could actually get what troops she had mobilized and she prayed the princess was a better diplomat then she was.

Lanolin took a breath to try and calm down and nodded to Blaze leaving her to deal with this canine stand in. Honestly she wanted to just find the bastard and rip his ears off! Yet the Doberman didn't budge an inch despite the princesses words and mild threats to try and get him to budge. After a moment he seemed to relent slightly as he glanced to one side.

" I'll transfer you to the Commander, Though i wouldn't get my hopes up to high..."

The screen flickered as the image changed. This time to an elderly wolf with greying fur. His eye covered with a patch though the patch looked like it was made of high tech material. Likely it did more then just cover the empty socket. His GUN uniform denoted him as a high ranking officer and his stern gaze likely didn't instill hope into the princess, as it was the face of a man who wouldn't blink when pulling the trigger.

" We meet at last princess... Commander Lupus of GUN High Command. I apologize for cutting our last conversation short. Though a giant Wisp was something of a pressing issue for us to discern its threat level..."

He placed his hands behind and gave her a long stare

" Just to cut to the chase, We have orders from high command to seal the area off to prevent the damage from getting out of hand. No one is to go in or out... that doesn't come from us, but the President of the United Federation himself. We are to lock down the area until all threats have been neutralized. "

He explained his position in a short concise way but he seemed to also understand her own position as well.

" However we aren't heartless... if you have injured or civilians wishing to leave the hotzone. You can bring them to any check point and we'll make it happen. If need be we can even arrange an Evac zone... but until i get word from the president... i'm sorry i can't budge on this... i can arrange a conference call with him but i cant say how long that would take. "

================================================

Gold Climbed into the chair nodding her head but glanced over at Belle. She wasn't sure what to watch for and many of the cameras across the base looked to be down. But she'd watch over things here as she gave a sigh feeling as if this conflict was close to a resolution. She gave Belle a thumbs up and wished her luck as she moved out.

===============================================

Lanolin had spent this time issuing orders to the various security forces across the base. gathering up the forces at the command center, and any non-essential personal to deal with the fires breaking out! She knew this left the prison somewhat unguarded but she couldn't help it! if those two skunks got away she'd deal with it later right now she wanted to save lives! She made her way down stairs to meet up with her commanders and usher them into formation.

She took note of Belle moving in and turned to meet her with a worried look as she stared up at the bot but didn't linger long before issuing her commands.

" LISTEN UP! We are all we have left on base right now! we are spread thin, and alot that needs done! Alpha unit! you are our most experienced unit! i want you to head to the air strip! there are 2 shuttles there, one is civilians and the other are clean sweep security. You are to disable and take in any of clean sweeps people! if they resist use non-lethal methods of taking them down. Take them to the prison if they arent hurt if they are take them to the infirmary. "

She turned to the beta team

" Beta team you need to get the civilians from the shuttle and get them to the command center or the infirmary if they are hurt. The rest of us are going to split up and head to the two GUN check points in the east and west... we aren't going to fight just to make our presence known! GUN thinks they came come here and intimidate us... they are wrong! They weren't anywhere to be seen during the war! or after it... never a damn one of them showed to help during the outbreak! so we need to remind them! that restoration doesn't need them! keep your head on and don't fire this is just a show of force... nothing else. NOW MOVE OUT! "

She turned to grab a Wispeon from a case one of the soldiers brought her. Since she lost hers earlier, and with Maggie resting on her head she was ready to fight if she had to. Her eyes went to Belle as she adjusted the Wispeon settings and took deep breath.

" I know what you are going to say... i don't want to fight GUN either-- but if blaze cant talk them own... i don't see any other choice. You should probably lay low... if things go south you should find a way out, maybe head to Tails Lab or, Angel Island... no way i'm letting them lay a hand on you. "

[chaosduckies]

Silence In The City (1)

I hate school a lot for not letting my finish anything that I wanted to write and luckily I found the time to write today! So I give you an idea I’ve had on my mind for a good while, I’ve just never written it down! I will say these characters are some of my favorite because of the dynamic I have planned for them! Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 4.3k

CW: Violence, depictions of anxiousness and anxiety

1-

Everything was all wrong. The way the system works. How life works. How humans work. It was all just some twisted lie. Of course humankind had been ruthlessly attacked by these monsters at first. Huge and massive beings that rose from the sea, easily crumbling buildings and killing millions. It was terrible, taking ages to finally figure out a way to kill them. There was nothing to bring back the lives lost, everyone was broken apart, cities crumbled to dust as vegetation took over what was originally theirs. And soon, it repeated and repeated, until these monsters would finally restore their original home. Destroying countless cities along the coast, sometimes even working their way closer to the middle of the land. Though they were usually killed by then. 

I’ve never really been the type for fighting. Yet, I still find myself here. They had told us to go into our underground bunkers for safety but I couldn’t make it in time. The city was quiet except for the thundering footsteps coming from the monster. I just ran into a building, scared and alone. I had no idea where my parents were, but I had hoped that they were safe. Next thing I knew, the monster was after me. Crumbling down buildings in an attempt to take a life since there was no one else around. Or so I had thought. I was cornered and tired, the dust from all the rubble filling my lungs. I was about to be killed by the rubble falling on top of me. I had already given up, knowing that I wasn’t going to get out of this alive. When nothing had happened and there was a loud thud, I looked up, seeing an even bigger, more powerful being, standing over the monster. The monster struggled to get up while the one standing over leaned down, its eyes focusing on me. 

They only looked half like the monster that had just threatened my life, but yet, didn’t have the same malicious look in his eyes. Scales all along their body that stopped halfway up their fingers, neck, and chest. The most beautiful shade of purple eyes that I have ever seen, toned skin, tail with spikes all along their spine, even another pair of arms. And yet somehow, he acted even more human than he looked. He showed concern for a little while before scooping me up somehow, protecting me against any further danger. After all the loud growling and harsh noises were gone, only leaving the strange humanoid kaiju huffing for breath. They opened up their hands high up in the air,  eyes studying me with worry. As if they had been making sure I wasn’t injured. Of course I was still scared. I didn’t know what was going to happen to me. Or what this guy would do to me. He had looked more human anyways. 

Soon enough, I heard my parents' strained voices crying for me. Out of desperation to be reunited, I crawled over to the edge of their palm, reaching out to them with tears in my eyes. They had noticed the person who had saved me, obviously scared but they stayed, wanting me back. I looked back at the half-human half-kaiju, their eyes glaring down at my parents. He turned towards me, eyes going wide before slowly lowering his hand to the ground. I stumbled off, nearly falling face first but ran into the warm hug that was waiting for me. I glanced back at the monster who had looked away, having a troubled and dark expression before locking eyes with me. I started trembling, but otherwise put on the best nervous smile as my parents urged me to run away. Their eyes shot up before he crawled away, making sure not to crumble buildings. 

I hadn’t forgotten about that day. When people were allowed to come out, we all tried to go back to our homes, but most of them had been demolished. Including mine. We were placed in a camp until they could find a home for us to relocate to, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about that guy. Whether they had been a monster or human, they had saved me. Even protected me. And I still ran away without giving a thank you. I was terrified, sure, but that didn’t condone not thanking him. They practically saved the whole city and they wouldn’t ever get any recognition for it. Usually those huge monsters were killed by people who could handle the suits, I’ve never seen anything like what just happened ever. Not on tv at least. Why did they look so… surprised by me though? Like when I smiled at them, or when I was just scared out of my mind in the corner. I never found out the answer until today. 

The camp was full of people. We were just lucky that food was okay and that we were getting supplied everything we needed. Until a military team had arrived. They were searching for someone. Telling people to gather in an area so they could check our faces. When they came up to me, they had all started talking. This didn’t happen with any other person, which just worked up my nerves. Why were they here? To take me away? To punish me for not being able to make it to the bunker on time? I wasn’t made for war! Was it because of that human-monster hybrid? Was I not supposed to see them? What was going on? A million questions stirred in my mind, making me anxious and worried. I had feared that they would be taking me away from home, and kept hoping that it wasn’t the case. 

I stayed still, playing with my hands and looking down at the ground, waiting to be told what would happen next. I was scared. I always have been. There was no reason for me to, but the anxiety always made me feel this way. This wasn’t helping at all either. The military people came back, my parents gripping my shoulders and kept whispering that everything would be okay. I didn’t believe them this time. They walked up to me once again, “You’re being transferred under government care. Your objective is classified until arrival. Please follow us.” They had instructed, waiting for me to follow them. I jumped, looking back up at my parents with mortified faces. They were just as terrified as I was. I looked back at the guy who was just talking to me, “B-But my parents?” I scooted closer to them as they gripped my shoulder tighter. He had sighed, walking but up to me, “Only you. Sorry kid, you’re being called to duty, and if you ignore we have been ordered to take you forcefully.” 

My eyes shot open, my entire body pausing. I didn’t hear when my parents started arguing to let them come with me, but it just wasn’t allowed. My mom, with tears in her eyes, looked at me. I always hated when she cried, “It’ll be okay, alright Devon? Just please be careful.” I knew why she was saying it. They were going to take me away, and I don’t even get a say. My parents had argued for me but… I never fought for myself. Never was a fan of fighting. They had, however, allowed me to pack a few things. Or what I had left of my stuff. My parents watched me pack a few clothes, making sure I had everything. I looked back, seeing my dusty stuffed animal dog and grabbed it. I knew it was childish but I couldn’t go anywhere without him. I could just clean them off when I get to wherever I was going to. My mom made sure to grab my pills and placed them in my bag, “Don’t forget to take these.” She smiled sadly, trying not to cry. To be honest I was trying my hardest as well. I didn’t understand why I had to leave. They never gave me a reason, and I was anxious. Was it bad? The place they were taking me to? Was I in trouble? 

The thoughts never escaped my mind as I hugged my parents close, then started to follow the guy into a car. People had surrounded me, as if making sure I wouldn’t try anything. Of course I wouldn't. I already knew I wouldn’t win that battle. Not now or not ever. It was quiet on the way there. Sitting in a car for two hours, only listening to the people on the radio transmissions and getting stares from the people sitting next to me. I stayed quiet, afraid that if I said anything it would only make my situation worse. I was already away from my parents and I’ve lost my home, what more could they do to me besides kill me? I panicked at the idea as the car drove past a massive gate. There were several check-ins, and soon we were finally in. My heart wouldn’t stop beating as I stared at the huge base. I walked through several hallways, earning stares from a lot of people. Some older, some looking the same age as me. I knew what this place was. To train people to kill those monsters that terrorize cities. Was that what I was here for? I wouldn’t even last a single hour here. 

They took me up an elevator, leading me to another place where there was a lab. Holographic screens everywhere, people testing new weapons out. I flinched when someone had started barking orders. I gripped my backpack tighter, thoughts swirling in my mind. Could I just go back home with my parents? Can’t I just cry right now? It’s taken so much out of me just to stop myself. I didn’t want to show it to everyone else around me though. They would think I’m even more of a useless kid than they already do. I could already tell that. So what was I even doing here if they all thought that about me? 

The people started talking with one another before one of the scientists came up to me, the people who used to stand beside me to make sure I didn’t try to escape took a step to the side. The woman was tall and looked to be in her thirties. I jumped as her eyes pierced through me, seeming to stare deep into my soul as she studied my every move. My eyes nervously trailed down to the ground, nervously moving around my feet. I felt like a big underneath her stare. And it didn’t feel very good. 

“This is who the monster decided to save?” She sounded unimpressed as she wrote things down, circling around me. She lifted up one of my arms, shaking her head and sighing, “Too skinny, too weak, do you suffer from any illnesses?” She asked. I looked at her sadly, forcing my voice to work without cracking, “Anxiety disorder.” She raised her eyebrows, muttering something under her breath that I couldn’t hear. It made my anxiousness even worse.

But what did she mean by monster? Was it that guy that saved me? My eyes went wide at the thought. I was going to see him again? I felt terrified and scared, but at the same time happy? It was a strange mix of emotions as she had dragged me to a large metal door that seemed heavily protected. Automatic windows had opened, revealing a large room with only one inhabitant inside. My eyes widened as I played with my hands and shuffled my feet. There, only a few meters behind the glass, was the person that saved him. Trapped in a tiny metal box. Well, tiny to him, not so much for me. They looked to have been bothered in their sleep and slowly started opening their eyes, letting out a soft groan and never moving. Some part of me screamed to run, to hide and never look back, but the other part felt sympathy for him. Why was he locked up in here? Did he do something bad? It didn’t really seem like it. They looked so peaceful, as if nothing was wrong.

“You’re going to go in there. No escaping and we can’t guarantee that it won’t kill you.” She instructed, getting ready to throw me in there. He gripped my bag and continued to look out the window, my nerves only worsening. Kill me?... would he really do that? After being so gentle and protective? Was that why I was here? Just to meet him again? See how he’d react to seeing the one person he helped get out alive. “Get a peculiar reaction out of him like you did at the attack and we’ll see what we’ll do with you after…. If you’re still alive,” She grinned like she had expected it to happen, “Here’s a tablet containing the means of shocking it into submission if you feel threatened, here is also an ear microphone so we can speak to you through it.” She handed me a small tablet with a few buttons, but I eyed the button with the lightning bolt on it warily. Shock him? I could barely think about it without gagging.

I gulped, not knowing how he would react to me. Holding the tablet that I had an odd feeling he would recognize and hate me for it. I also hated the fact that she called him an “it” and a monster. If he was a monster then why’d he kill one? Why would he save me in the first place? Why make sure he wouldn’t topple over any buildings? I took a deep breath before I was shoved on the other side of the door. I yelped, landing face first onto the cold metal floor. I groaned quietly to myself, sitting up with my backpack still attached to me. I let out a sigh of relief, then made the mistake of looking up. My eyes were glued to the massive being in front of me, their entire face taking up my vision. I felt myself barely breathing, my body trembling, but I never ran away. 

I jumped when their eyes had opened, groggily searching around the room until they landed on me. I held in a breath, my eyes wide but not full of fear. This was the person that saved me. They wouldn’t kill me, right? It didn’t really sound logical at all. Though… that didn’t really explain why he was locked up in here. He didn’t really look like the type to do any true harm to someone

As soon as their eyes found me we held a silent staring contest until his own eyes grew wide as he picked up his head. Did he recognize me? He shook his head, laying back down on his arms. I looked around. Seeing that the room was cramped. Not for him at all but for the guy just laying on the ground seemed to be cramped. The ceiling looked too low for them to get on their legs, heck, it even looked too low for them to sit on their knees and sit up straight. I flinched when they slightly moved their head up a little more. I felt like a tiny bug under their gaze. I stared at one of their hands, the one I had been in just a few days prior and shuddered. Their claws were at least three times my own height. I briefly wondered just how small I am to him. How he saw me through his eyes. Just a bug? Another small insignificant creature? 

I gripped the tablet in my hands, listening to the microphone in my ear. They had kept saying to talk, to do something, but what was there to do? He was just sleeping, and I ruined it. I didn’t like the thought that they forced me to bother him. And the fact that he looked annoyed with me being in here too. I sucked in a shaky breath looking away and at the door, but I couldn’t help but turn back to the vibrant purple eyes glaring at me, no, the tablet. The collar around his neck seemed to be the shock collar basing it off of the marks around where it is on his neck, there were also some on his wrists. All four of them. I looked down at the tablet in hand, and back at him, still glaring at the object in my hand. It sent a chill down my spine as I did the exact opposite of what they kept telling me to on the microphone. I placed it down and kicked it away from me, along with the microphone. There was no reason for me to have either of them. I wasn’t going to pay attention to what they were going to say. None of this seemed right to me. 

Their eyes went wide at my action, looking between me and the tablet that must not have looked far to him, but it was for me. They seemed to be shocked as they raised their head up, and up, until entirely looming over me, holding themselves up with their crossed arms. I gulped, not realizing just how big they truly were. I backed away a little thinking, for only a brief moment, that it was a mistake to toss away the one thing that could have kept me alive. Though, if he really wanted me dead wouldn’t he have done so the other day? Instead of saving me he could’ve just let it happen. Instead he didn’t. And I still had yet to thank him! They lowered their head, as if trying to examine me more before looking away, disappointed. Though I did catch a bit of sadness hidden. I hadn’t noticed how much I was trembling. Or how much I had backed away, my back almost against the wall. I felt terrible for looking that way in front of him. What if that was why he was disappointed? Because everyone was scared of him and so am I? Of course I’m scared but at least I’m attempting to try something. I scrambled further up to see him looking completely away, almost turned to face the wall opposite of me. I kept taking steps closer despite the warnings given, and stood a few feet away from one of his hands. Big, scary, but I just grabbed the backpack on my shoulders and stood up on shaky legs. My breath was shaky, but I forced words to come out eventually, “Th-thank you. For saving m-me.” He slowly turned his head, his eyes searching to see if I was lying. I heard him scoff above me, the noise deep and irritated, “You’re a really good liar. How about you go back with your friends out there and treat me like some monster like they all do?” I covered my ears with my hands, their voice loud. Liar? Friends? Monster? Did he mean the scientists? Why did he think I was lying? Was he really a monster if he saved my life and practically everyone else’s by dealing with the real monster that day? Now there were even more questions than answers. 

I didn’t move. Even though I was terrified, trembling, and honestly thinking about just making a run for it, I still stayed. It was silent for what seemed like forever before they moved again, glaring at me, eyes piercing through my soul. “Go away.” He nearly growled, slamming a fist on the ground. I was airborne for a half a second, placing my hands out in front of me so I didn’t land on my face. Heart racing, breath shaky, tears forming in my eyes. Dead- Dead. I could’ve died. The thoughts wouldn’t leave as I stared at the fist only mere feet away. I looked back down, watching as my own tears hit the metal ground below. I could’ve been dead now. Why wasn’t I dead? Why was I alive right now? Wasn’t he going to kill me? My breathing quickened, my arms and legs becoming weak. I used a shaky hand to grab a fistful of my shirt against my chest, feeling how hard my heart was beating. How it seemed to ring through my ears with every thump. I closed my eyes, trying to get as much air into my lungs to calm myself down. My stomach throbbing. The anxiety eating at me. The constant thoughts of how I could’ve died. What I would look like. I just kept taking shaky breaths, slowly regaining my mind. I reached into my bag worriedly, grabbing a water bottle and my pills, dumping two out into my hand and downing them with water. I held my head, taking my last few deep breaths. My body was still trembling and my heart was still beating abnormally fast, but at least my mind wasn’t lost. 

Using the back of my hand, I wiped away the tears, sniffling and forcing myself to look up. Their other hands clawing at the metal, their eyes still piercing through me, holding me in place out of fear. Why was he so angry? Was it because he was trapped in here? Because they treat him like this? It didn’t take a whole lot to figure out how they take care of him. The collars, the tablet, the chains on his lower pair of arms. Who knows what else. But was he really that bad? I mean, of course I just had a near death experience, but after a second look I realized he was just trying to scare me. It would’ve worked. The people here were terrible. It didn’t matter if he was half kaiju half human, did it? It didn’t matter if he was probably taller than a skyscraper. Okay well that might invoke fear in literally everyone he meets but still. It didn’t really seem to me that he truly wanted to hurt anyone. A few days ago he struggled to avoid breaking anything that might wreck the city even more than it already was. He even held me to keep me safe. How was he being held in a prison like this when he’s saving billions of people? It just didn’t sit right with me. 

I gathered up whatever courage I had left in me, trying to forget about what had just happened, “I-I’m sorry that you’re i-in here.” My voice came out weak, quiet, almost like I was about to cry. Honestly, I was. Everything about this was telling me to run and get the heck out of here. That would be wrong. That would be proving their point that I think of them as a monster, wouldn’t it? 

Their eyes widened in shock, lowering their head even more, almost touching the floor. I flinched when they moved their fist, flattening their hand on the ground as if they were confused and interested. It was unnerving to have their full attention, but I stared right back, rubbing my arms to hide the fact that I was shaking. He lifted his head back up, contemplating. I had no idea what was happening, but for some reason their entire mood had seemed to shift. Why did they react that way when I said that I was sorry? They didn't seem mad anymore. Relief washed over me as he raised his hand up and covered up a mirror high above me. Was it actually a window? Were they watching us? I didn’t know. 

He sighed, studying me like he was earlier, trying to see if I was lying, “You’re hard to stay mad at,” His voice was a lot quieter, “Kieran. That’s my name.” He opened his mouth like he was about to say something else but shook his head, looking down at me. I sucked in a shaky breath. Kieran? “Devon.” I quietly said. He seemed to hear me before somehow. He removed his hand from the mirror, glaring at it for a few seconds like they had done some unspeakable crime. They actually did actually, keeping Kieran here in the first place. 

“You’re welcome for saving you by the way. Don’t expect me to do it again.” He told me, turning away. I couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to sound happier now. Like he was happy I was talking to him. I smiled, jumping when the door opened. I watched as several people walked it, three of them carrying a tablet and keeping a close eye on Kieran. The other people walked right towards me. I flinched, unable to fight back against the grip they had on my arms. I was forced to my feet and shoved through the door. I stole one more glance back at Kieran, meeting their sad eyes. Once the doors were closed, I let them push me around the long hallways. What did they mean they wouldn’t dave me again. Would they have to? I wouldn’t think so if I was going home after this. I did what they asked me to do, didn't I? Why did he look so sad when I left? 

Eventually they opened a door that led to a small room with only the necessities. A bed, bathroom, closet. They threw me in there, “People will come and get you in the morning. They asked that you rest for now.” They had ordered from me. What? Was I staying here for the night and going home? I sat on the bed, digging out my stuffed animal and laying down, sinking into the hard mattress. I sucked in a shaky breath and cried silently. Nothing could ever just be normal. 

——————

I’ve absolutely loved kaiju ever since I could remember and I’ve been wanting to write a story for it! To be honest I mostly wrote this for myself just to feed my delusions but also just to get out of my writer’s block and to save me from spiraling cause of school. But thank you for reading! This actually did get me out of a major writing slump (thank you school) so I will finally be able to finish answering asks and writing commissions. Thank you for being so patient!

Taglist: @da3dm, @dav8530

If you would like to be added to any of my writing please let me know!

[terrorbirb]

AHHHHHH I need a doctors note to go back to work, so starting now I have unpaid days! What the fuck does salaried even mean anymore!

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

It’s here!! Not gonna lie I watched the Frontierland episode last night in preparation 😂 And I am so ready to lose myself in Western Dean Winchester. Not to mention ready to rekindle my childhood love of Spirit lol.

The proud tilt of the woman’s chin is her only answer to Dean’s question. Her gaze drags down his form with disdain, like he’s the savage. His mouth twitches mirthlessly. 

Oh goodness the enemies to lovers is bubbling under the surface and I am already naming Dean and Mila's children.

This chapter really is one of the best scenes in Spirit, not to mention one of my favorite songs in that movie. "Get Off My Back" is legendary.

“Oh, don’t tell me you here for him,” Dean says with a chuckle. "That thing’s a little too much for you, sweetheart.” That earns her attention, steely and unimpressed. “He is too much for you,” she says. Her voice is smooth, and would even be pleasant, if not for the circumstances. “He is one of ours. You will never break him.”

I love her already. I mean I loved her from the moment that I found out she broke that jerk's nose, but a strong defiant woman. Yes ma'am here for Mila 1000000%.

Dean doesn’t allow himself to outwardly react, but inside, his spine tightens as he fights his instincts.

He's already feeling!😏 And I really loved that he fought the smile when she spat in the Colonel's face. Because Dean is already smitten with this woman.

Dean remains quiet, ignoring yet another uneasy twinge in his gut. He didn’t join the army to fight the Indians. He doesn’t always understand their way of doing things, but he understands why they fight—to protect their land, and to protect their own. It’s the same reason Dean fights, when he has to.

I really love this part, when Dean can sympathize with Mila and her people and why they continue to fight. It also really brings together the "realism" in this story. Especially with the "He doesn't always understand their way of doing things..." A lot of people fear what they don't understand and for Dean to have a more "open" outlook even being surrounded by people who don't is refreshing. And now Mila gets to show her all the wonderful things about her and her tribe! He's different and I love him.

I also really liked the background you gave him. His father being in the army and that being the reason why Dean joined, and I can just imagine young Dean and young Sam riding horses and breaking them out on their family farm.

Okay also the fact that Mila calls Dean "Green Eyes" had me literally screaming lol. I was like, "girl I see you and I respect you for noticing how beautiful that man's eyes are."

Suddenly, the man’s body is ripped away from her. Mila loses her footing and falls to the dusty ground, sliding against the wooden beam she’s tied to. The wind is knocked out of her, but when she raises her head, she watches with wide eyes as the Green Eyed One beats the other man into the dirt. It doesn’t take much, just a few well-placed fists.

Let's go PROTECTIVE DEAN ALERT!

I hope Roman falls off a watchtower and into a giant pile of poop (the size of the ones in Jurassic Park) and then dies. I mean he doesn't... because Dean destroys that man. BUT I hope that they shoveled his body away with the same shovel they use for all the horse poop. It's what the people want lol 😂

Then, he turns to her. His gaze softens somewhat, but it’s still unreadable. He crouches down in front of her, resting his arms on his thighs. Mila’s gaze briefly falls to his hands. They’re calloused, the hands of a laboring man. He carries himself like a warrior.

The descriptions of his hands made me hyperventilate. 😳 I am telling you the trope of a big strong man who has done terrible things with his hands and then is nothing, but gentle with his significant other WIPES ME OUT. Oh stars, I can't take it 😭

The Lakota woman laughs. Dean hears it and his head swivels toward her. She bites her lip, but she knows she’s been caught. Despite his injured pride, Dean’s lips curve with a smirk. Just gonna laugh at me, huh?

It's true love and now I'm scared of what's gonna happen to them.

He runs to the stables where he finds Baby waiting for him. Her black coat ripples as she stamps impatiently. “Come on, sweetheart,” he beckons. He leads the mare out of the stable, and after grabbing a coil of rope from the supply bench, he mounts her smoothly. With a subtle kick of his heel, she picks up speed to follow the mustang and his rider.

YOU TURNED BABY INTO A HORSE?! MASTERFUL! GENIUS! Oh my word I was not expecting that, but it made me so happy you have no idea lol.

Again, so happy Roman is gone. Man is a whole problem and Dean is a problem solver lmao 😂

Oh this chapter was absolutely wonderful and it was everything that I expected and SO SO MUCH MORE friend!❤️ Western Dean is quickly infiltrating my subconscious and someone is gonna have to raise Freud from the dead to work this one out for sure. I mean Freud's already gonna have to talk to me about Spirit, but that horse had an energy, it was voiced by Matt Damon, I was young and impressionable, and I can't be held responsible lmao lol😅 (catching myself in 4k)

I can't wait for the next chapter!!😊

The Honorable Choice - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I thought this idea might be a good fit for this @jacklesversebingo prompt.

Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Racism/racial slurs, attempted sexual assault (not successful), protective Dean, angst, some violence and some action.

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: Pride & Prejudice

June 1872

Dean hears some of his men shouting, along with the telltale cracking of bone that would make a less seasoned soldier wince. He spares a look to Benny, his Lieutenant, and sets down his glass of whiskey.

Dean’s path takes him brusquely out of his office and toward the stables. He grabs his gun and his hat on the way there, setting the latter on his head.

Is it too much to ask for one night where he can drink in peace?

Dean comes to find a young woman being detained by two of his men, Kline and Novak. Roman sports a bloody nose and his eye is already beginning to swell. The woman fights against their hold.

Even under the pale moonlight, Dean notes the way she’s dressed: a deer skin dress cinched at the waist, over thin pants and shoes. He surveys her tan skin, her black hair that blends into the night, twisted into a long braid, and the anger in her dark eyes.

“What have we got here?” Dean says. He stows his gun in its holster as he approaches her, resting his hands at his belt.

“I caught her breaking into the stables, Captain,” Roman says. He prods with a hiss at his busted nose while trying to stem the bleeding. That’s going to be a bad break.

She remains tight lipped, stubborn. 

“Probably doesn’t even understand English. Savage bitch,” he says. Dean shoots him an impassive look to cover up his annoyance.

“Put a cork in it, Roman,” he orders. Then, he focuses back on her. “You’re a Lakota, aren’t you?”

Aside from their main mission here in the Dakota Territory, the Colonel has been fixed on fighting back against the Lakota Indians, especially after they sabotaged the supply line last month.

The proud tilt of the woman’s chin is her only answer to Dean’s question. Her gaze drags down his form with disdain, like he’s the savage. His mouth twitches mirthlessly. 

“The Lakota rear up their own horses pretty damn well. Why would you want to steal one of ours?” he asks.

She glances away from him, first at her feet, then over at the camp’s latest “guest.” Dean, Benny, and a few of his men wrangled up a horse a few days ago. He’s a beautiful Kiger mustang with a nasty mean streak. He barely got through a trim this afternoon, and almost took a chunk out of Rufus when he tried to brand the horse.

The Colonel ordered them to tie the horse up to a post just outside the corral—no food or water for three days. He’d turned to Dean with a firm set to his face and issued a single order.

“Break him.”

Now, Dean catches the furtive look the Lakota woman gives the horse, who flicks his tail. The animal stares right at her, as if into her eyes.

“Oh, don’t tell me you here for him,” Dean says with a chuckle. “That thing’s a little too much for you, sweetheart.”

That earns her attention, steely and unimpressed.

“He is too much for you,” she says. Her voice is smooth, and would even be pleasant, if not for the circumstances. “He is one of ours. You will never break him.”

Dean's eyes widen a fraction. He glances back at the mustang.

So that's why she's here, he thinks. She's trying to mount a rescue. Dean feels a twinge deep inside, but he can't allow himself to care about that. They've collected a strong horse that will be a good support for their objectives here, once he's broken.

“Ah, well see,” Dean says, tipping his Stetson up to meet her gaze. “That’s kind of our specialty.”

“Sir, should we take her to the stockade?” Novak asks. He seems reluctant to do so to a woman, even an Indian, but he’s always been good at following orders.

Dean opens his mouth to reply, but another voice cuts him off. Colonel Asmodeus Sanderson steps out and takes a look at their captive.

“Not the stockade,” he says, with that Southern drawl that betrays his Kentucky roots. “Not yet.”

He approaches her with a slow, calculated gait. His hands gather behind his back. Dean gives her credit for looking Sanderson in the eye. She seems rightly wary, but not afraid.

“We won’t hurt you. I give you my word,” the Colonel says, “if you’ll lead us to your people’s camp.”

He takes a hold of her chin, turning her face this way and that, like he’s examining a dirty animal, and all that he’ll have to do to make it clean. She spits in his face.

Dean bites the inside of his lip against a smile. She’s got as much fight in her as the mustang. However, he has to school his face back into stoicism when Sanderson rears back in anger.

The harsh smack rings out in the clearing, along with the woman’s cry. Dean doesn’t allow himself to outwardly react, but inside, his spine tightens as he fights his instincts.

Only Kline and Novak’s hold on her arms keeps her upright. She pants for breath, but again, she meets the Colonel with a face that doesn’t give away anything, despite the reddening mark on her cheek.

“The post,” he barks. “Three days. No food or water.”

Dean is kept busy by his duties. He makes sure the camp is running in order, accepting shipments of supplies and ammunition, among other things. Cas Novak is in charge of the stables, caring for the horses and putting them through their training. Jack Kline is young and strong and a good assistant, along with others in his unit.

Right now, Dean and Benny are going over the plans with Colonel Sanderson for continuing construction on the railroad, from here to the Black Hills. It’s a path that cuts straight through Sioux territory—the bands of Dakota and Lakota Indians that occupy the land.

“The natives are fightin’ us tooth and nail,” Sanderson says. “But maybe our guest will be able to help us…negotiate.”

Dean remains quiet, ignoring yet another uneasy twinge in his gut. He didn’t join the army to fight the Indians. He doesn’t always understand their way of doing things, but he understands why they fight—to protect their land, and to protect their own. It’s the same reason Dean fights, when he has to.

He joined the army because…well, it felt like the right thing to do at the time. His father had been a Cavalry Major, and he’d died an honorable death, now about a decade past.

Has it really been ten years? Christ.

Dean wipes his brow. Even with the windows open, the office is humid and smells like ass. He glances outside, where both the mustang and the woman are tied to their posts under a sweltering sun at high noon.

Not for the first time, Dean wonders what his dad would think of him now. 

After the meeting, Dean and Benny fall into step together to inspect the camp. The summer sun shines hot on their blue uniforms, and occasionally they raise their hats to mop the sweat from their brows.

Things are running as usual, but many of the men’s eyes occasionally turn to the posts. Dean’s attention wanders there too without him realizing, catching on the woman’s dark hair. It shines even blacker in the sunlight, like a raven’s wing. He knows the shade because his dad used to have a feather kept in his journal, like a bookmark.

“You okay, brother?” Benny asks. Dean realizes what he’s doing, and his attention returns to the task at hand. Get it together.

Always forward, never backward.

“Just fine,” Dean replies. Benny gives him a knowing look.

“A bit unsavory, ain’t it?” he says. “Keeping her chained up without even a lick of water.”

“The Indians are getting smarter, bolder. They’re ambushing our men, going after our supply lines, and now, stealing our horses,” Dean says. “This is strategy.”

Benny shrugs slightly, making a sound of agreement. Dean hesitates, his gloved fingers flexing against his sides.

“If she was a man, you guys wouldn’t give a shit about putting a bullet through her head,” Dean says.

Benny’s gaze shifts downward. He doesn’t reply, but he concedes the point all the same.

They continue their route, and Dean keeps the rest of the conversation on the work at hand.

Mila has gone far longer without drink, but the sun is particularly unforgiving today. She’s prayed and prayed for even one cloud to glide overhead and shield her for a while. It’s not much better for her companion. He paces in place, occasionally tugging his head against the rope that binds him to his post.

She makes a clicking sound at the horse, getting his attention. She calls him by his name, and his ears flicker in her direction. He offers her a short whinny in response.

“I see you, Mato. I am with you,” she says in her native tongue. She hopes the sound of her voice will soothe him. He looks tired and hungry, but his eyes flick hard and untrusting on any man who comes near him. His spirit isn’t broken.

“Hey! Shut the hell up over there,” Roman shouts at her from where he and Cas are taking a short lunch break. Cas gives him a certain look, crossed mostly with annoyance.

Mila resists the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she closes them and tilts her face back to the sun. In a way, it feels cleansing. Maybe it can wash away the stench of the White Men’s hands on her body, manhandling her, checking her for weapons.

She spends the rest of the day watching the camp. One of their leaders, the Green Eyed One, called this a fort. It does look fortified, with tall walls made of thick wood constructed to form a cage—whether to keep others out, or to keep the men and horses in.

She identifies the Colonel as their chief, of a kind. Green Eyes is second in command, followed by the Bearded One with a strange voice. Even the scruffy Blue Eyed One has some authority, mostly over the Child Faced One. There are too many others to rank them all, but she knows the Loud Mouthed One is arrogant, even after she broke his nose. The way he carries himself, he clearly thinks he has more power than he actually has.

In her mind, Mila conjures up different plans of escape. All of them fall short in some way. The men didn’t find all of her weapons; a small knife is hidden deep in her boot. She could saw at her binds within an hour, but even with Mato to carry her out and away, the problem is escaping this camp without alerting the men. Without getting shot.

She has three days to think.

That night, the moon refuses to give her clarity. Her stomach is too empty, her throat too dry, her tongue thick in her mouth. Her attention shifts in and out of consciousness, until the sound of boots crunching in the dirt trills unease down her spine. More alert, she sits up straighter.

The Loud Mouthed One. The one they call Roman comes to taunt her, offering her water, then drinking for himself instead. He comes closer to examine her. He has a small bind over his broken nose.

“You know, you’re a pretty one,” he says, taking another cold sip as his gaze drags over her form. “For a wild thing.”

His face nears hers, clean shaven, though his thin smile reminds her of a rattlesnake. Dread and repulsion churn at odds in her stomach as she realizes what he's really here for. It doesn't matter if he truly wants her, or just wants to pay her back for his face. Either way, he means to take her here in the dirt.

She looks away, not wanting to let him see her fear, or the dread tightening her stomach, rising into her throat. He winds long fingers into her hair. At first the hold is gentle, deceptive. Then it's tight against her scalp. She hisses in pain when he tugs her head back and forces her to look at him. Her breathing quickens as she tries to pull away.

He draws in close to try and claim her in a kiss, but she head-butts him, hard.

He cries out and stumbles back, his flask falling to the ground.

He angrily grabs her and hauls her up to her feet. He pushes her hard against the post and unbuckles his belt, just to stuff it in her mouth. With his free hand, he begins to undo his pants.

She refuses to cry out, even though she spits out his belt and fights him, trying to kick out his knees.

Suddenly, the man’s body is ripped away from her. Mila loses her footing and falls to the dusty ground, sliding against the wooden beam she’s tied to. The wind is knocked out of her, but when she raises her head, she watches with wide eyes as the Green Eyed One beats the other man into the dirt. It doesn’t take much, just a few well-placed fists.

Roman lies there catching his breath, and he spits a wad of phlegm and blood. His left eye will match his nose, that’s for sure.

Green Eyes looks angry and disgusted. He huffs and puffs while staring down at his subordinate. He pushes back his short brown hair and points an ungloved hand at Roman.

“Get back to the goddamn barracks. You’re gonna be mucking out stalls until shit’s coming out of your ears,” he growls.

Roman doesn’t argue, though it’s obvious that he wants to. He just picks himself up, makes a show of straightening up his open uniform jacket while catching his breath. He walks past Green Eyes with a resentful, angry look. Green Eyes watches him until he disappears inside.

Then, he turns to her. His gaze softens somewhat, but it’s still unreadable. He crouches down in front of her, resting his arms on his thighs. Mila’s gaze briefly falls to his hands. They’re calloused, the hands of a laboring man. He carries himself like a warrior.

“Sorry about that,” he says.

It’s not what she expected. Mila eyes him warily when he moves closer. She presses her back against the post until it hurts her spine. He raises up his hands placatingly.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says.

“That is what your Colonel said,” she says. Her voice cracks with dryness. “I didn’t believe him either.”

His lips flicker at a rueful smile. It wrinkles crow’s feet around his eyes, breaking his stony face.

“Fair enough.”

He reaches for his belt and retrieves a flask, similar to the one his subordinate carried. He extends it out to her.

“It’s water, unless you prefer whiskey. I know I do,” he says.

She raises a brow at him, but hearing the sloshing inside the flask, her thirst takes over her wariness, and even her pride. She tentatively leans forward. He brings it closer so she can press her lips to the opening. Despite his Colonel’s orders, he lets her drink as much water as she’s able. When she’s done, he pockets the flask and sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

That, she will not give him. Names are sacred to her people, and this man, while seeming to have a shred of honor, isn’t worthy.

“Don’t wanna even tell me your name?” he says. He nods slightly. “Okay, well, I’m Dean. Captain Winchester, to this band of delinquents.”

He gestures around the camp with a dismissive hand. Mila only watches him. She’s never seen a White act like this, breaking his leader’s rules, being…kind.

What a strange man.

But if he had any real convictions, he would untie her and let her go, along with Mato. She won’t hold her breath.

Dean’s brows raise up toward his hairline, and his full lips form a pout. Realizing he’s not going to get anything more from her, he lets out a tired huff and straightens up.

“Well, goodnight,” he says.

He finally leaves her alone, but she can’t help but follow the swaggering path of his bowed legs and heavy boots. They carry him away and back indoors.  

A strange man.

By the morning of the third day, Dean is ready to do what he does best. Or at least, one thing he does best.

He’s no stranger to horses. He grew up on a farm in Lawrence, Kansas, where he and his brother would help take care of the animals. Dean was older, so he helped his father till the land and train the horses. Sometimes he and Sam would sneak off and race their favorite ones, until their mom called them back for dinner.

In fact, part of what earned Dean his rank in the U.S. Cavalry was how well he could command a horse. His own is resting in the stables.

Today, he’s getting in the ring with the mustang.

…Well, not right away. He lets a few of his guys go first to tire him out. Even after three days of no food or water, the horse is living up to his bad attitude. He bucks each of them off after just a few seconds in the corral. Dean can tell it’s becoming a kind of game for the horse. His dun-colored coat shines in the sun, his brown socked legs kicking up dust and manure as he brays angrily at whoever tries to mount him.

Dean notices the Lakota woman watching with an amused smile on her face while she sits with her hands tied to her post. She’s enjoying the show, like she knew this would happen. It seems to give her energy every time another man is thrown off the horse and limps out of the ring.

Dean shakes his head. Pitiful.

He puts two gloved fingers to his mouth and whistles the entire clearing to attention. He saves Kline the chance to bruise his spine and pats him on the shoulder. Dean steps into the corral and positions himself into the stirrups, wrapping the reins around his hand. The horse is breathing hard, but he’s not done. He’s still got fight in him. Dean sees it in his brown eyes.

“All right, mustang. You’re big and bad. I get it,” Dean says lowly. “But I don’t scare easy. Gimme your best damn shot.”

Cas and Benny give him wary looks from where they stand outside the gate.

“Hold onto your hat, Cap,” Benny mutters.

Dean adjusts his hat and rests his gun on the post for safe keeping. He wants to feel as natural as possible, like it’s just him and this horse, out back in his family farm. He holds on tight to the reins. He’s fully prepared for how the mustang takes off at a galloping clip around the ring. He twists and bucks, but Dean claps his thighs tight and holds on for the ride.

The horse gets smarter.

He runs for the water trough just outside the ring. He slams Dean against the side of it once, twice—and manages to throw him off, with Dean landing right in the water trough.

He bursts out from the dirty water, sopping wet and spluttering in anger. He looks over at the horse trotting around, whinnying and tossing his head like he’s laughing. Dean can’t help it. His anger fades, and he smiles.

This guy’s got some brass balls, I’ll give him that.

The Lakota woman laughs. Dean hears it and his head swivels toward her. She bites her lip, but she knows she’s been caught. Despite his injured pride, Dean’s lips curve with a smirk. Just gonna laugh at me, huh?

“I see things are going well,” comes a familiar drawl.

Dean’s face falls as he looks up and finds Colonel Sanderson. Dean pulls himself out of the trough and tries to squeeze some water out of his uniform. He clears his throat.

“Well, uh, it’s going, sir. Just gonna take a little more time than I thought,” Dean says. He quickly reclaims his hat from the ring, giving the mustang a smart berth. After he climbs back out, he goes over to the post where he left his pistol.

“Hold him steady,” Sanderson barks out the order, but not at Dean. The other men wrangle the horse back into the pen, where Sanderson climbs up and mounts the horse himself.

To his credit, he stays on longer than even Dean thought he would. The mustang gallops and circles. He tries slamming Sanderson on the sides of the corral, tries bucking him and bucking him, but the man clings on, even when his hat falls into the dirt.

The horse is exhausted. He eventually stops in the middle of the ring, panting for breath, his legs shaking slightly. Dean straightens at attention.

So does the Lakota woman, he notices. She looks worried, her brows furrowing.

Sanderson swipes a hand over his graying hair and moustache to collect himself. He raises his head with an arrogant smile.

“You see, gentlemen. Any horse can be broken,” he says. He kicks the horse with his spur. “Move along, mustang.”

To everyone’s amazement, the horse obeys him. He moves forward at a slow clip. All the men applaud, even Dean, belatedly.

“There are those in Washington who believe the West will never be settled,” Sanderson continues. “The Northern Pacific Railroad will never breach Nebraska.”

His gaze draws over to the woman. Her eyes are filled with tears as she watches the Colonel makes his rounds.

“A hostile Lakota,” he says in derision, “will never submit to providence.”

She stares back at him with steel in her watery eyes.

Dean doesn’t realize his jaw is clenched tight until he feels the strain in his jaw. He forces himself to relax, with his hand on his dampened belt.

“And it’s that kind of small thinking that would say this horse would never be broken,” Sanderson says. “Discipline, time, and patience. That’s all you need to level a wild thing.”

Just then, the horse stops abruptly.

“Mustang?” Sanderson asks in warning.

Dean tenses. He knows what’s about to happen.

“Sir!” he calls out.

But it’s too late.

The stallion revs and charges, bucking even wilder than before. He swings his head and rears back high on his hind legs with a powerful bray. Sanderson yells in fear and strain, but he stays on the creature’s back.

The horse’s angry eyes take on a darker shade of conviction. When all four of his hooves hit the ground, he finally bucks hard enough to get the Colonel off his back, though he still clings to the reins near the animal’s head. He comes face to face with the horse’s crazed eyes. His own are wide and full of terror.

Hot breath heats Sanderson’s face. Then the horse swings his head and tosses the man out of the ring. In the process, the horse falls on his side and shatters a section of the wooden beams that fenced him in.

While he shakes his head and gets his hooves under him, Dean and Benny help the Colonel up to his feet. His uniform is a wreck, and now, with a bruised body and likely a couple of broken ribs, the man is fuming.

Kline and Roman wrangle the horse’s reins and keep him more or less in place. The Colonel shoves Dean and Benny off of him. He reaches for his gun at his belt and aims it at the mustang. Dean goes rigid in shock, but he knows he can’t interfere. If he does, it could warrant some major discipline.

The Colonel pulls the hammer back on the revolver, but before he can pull the trigger, the sound of cutting rope and a feminine yell breaks the silence in the clearing. The Lakota woman pulls the Colonel’s arms down, and the gun goes off into the ground. Her elbow comes up quick to strike the man between the eyes. He careens back into Benny, who catches him.

Meanwhile, the woman swings up onto the mustang. She grabs a stronghold by the neck and barks something in her native language. It spurs the horse onward, and he breaks through the crowd of men at a gallop.

Dean watches with widening eyes and furrowing brows. “Shit!”

He runs to the stables where he finds Baby waiting for him. Her black coat ripples as she stamps impatiently.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he beckons. He leads the mare out of the stable, and after grabbing a coil of rope from the supply bench, he mounts her smoothly. With a subtle kick of his heel, she picks up speed to follow the mustang and his rider.

They’re already approaching the gate where the men are quickly trying to close it. There’s still a window of opportunity for escape, but not only is Dean on their heels, Roman also stands on a pile of crates filled with iron parts that are due to be shipped out in the morning for continued construction on the railroad. Roman holds a rifle. He trains his weapon on the woman, taking deadly aim.

Dean’s jaw clenches and his brows furrow. He knows then, in the breadth of a few seconds, that he has to make a choice. If he does nothing, both she and the horse are as good as dead.

Sam used to call him reckless, stubborn as the horses he spent long hours taming.

Right about now, his brother is probably right.

Dean reaches for his gun, aims, and shoots within the span of those seconds. Roman goes down before he even knows what hits him. His chest plumes with blood after he slides down the crates and flops heavy to the ground. His eyes stare unseeing at the crisp blue sky.

The mustang tears through the narrow opening in the gate, and Dean isn’t far behind. The woman is an excellent rider, far better than he expected her to be. She clings to the horse’s neck and mane, and she doesn’t even use the stirrups. She clings on when the horse leaps over rocks, and when she notices Dean tailing her, she urges the horse at an even faster gallop.

Dean’s face furrows with determination. Baby is built for speed too.

He gives her a little kick with his heel. “Come on, Baby. Go!”

He’s able to keep up with the mustang just a few yards behind, even when they reach rougher terrain, going further up and into a canyon. He follows them through every curve and dip, guiding his horse just as much as she's guiding him.

Dean takes his rope in hand and turns it above his head, but his attempt to lasso the mustang's neck fails; the woman saws straight through the rope with her knife.

"Damn it!" Dean mutters.

He's forced to let go of his frayed rope when he and Baby nearly careen off the edge of a cliff. His heart settles high in his throat as he grits his teeth, but he pulls back on the reins hard and leans in the opposite direction. Baby's able to bank left, saving them from a long way down to certain death.

They continue up the narrow path the mustang has trod ahead. It carves around and through the mountain.

Dean mentally grasps for a plan, aside from just keeping up. Without even a bit of rope, he doesn’t know how he’s going to slow the woman down without hurting her or the horse. He doesn’t want to have to use his gun.

Eventually, the canyon breaks into a patch of desert, and then, grassy plains and tall forest trees. The mustang begins to tire and slow to a stop. His rider murmurs soothing things to him, stroking his neck. She turns back to look at Dean over her shoulder in dismay. She knows she’s caught.

“All right, sweetheart. That’s enough,” Dean says.

He sidles up next to her and intends to grab the mustang’s reins.

That’s when her swift kick comes, dead in his forehead.

AN: And here we go! 😅 Feels right that November is Native American Indian Heritage Month. 🫶🏽 For that reason especially I've done my best to do the Lakota people justice, even in this little series and complete work of fiction.

There's a lot packed in this first chapter, and yep, I did borrow a bit of scene from one of the best scenes in Spirit as an homage. From here on out, we're literally going off road...

Next Time:

Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and his hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.

“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.

The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.

Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.

Dean has a problem.

Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock… 

COMING 11/10! (New chapters every Sunday.)

Or read Part 2 on Patreon now!

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Series Tag List (Part 1):

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[way2gosuperrstarr]

watch my body disintegrate into a pile of ash like a cartoon character who just got struck by a lightning bolt (JOINT PAIN JOINT PAIN JOINT PAIN JOINT PAIN) (just got off work)

[mejomonster]

I hate panic attacks

[toytulini]

I think making sweeping generalizations of specific traits being considered "ugly" is not great the same way i think its rude and unnecessary to call others ugly, i also think its worthwhile to acknowledge that certain traits ARE considered "Ugly" due to societal beauty standards, that doesn't make them ACTUALLY ugly, bc beauty is subjective anyway, and can be found Anywhere, and even someone who seems to tick every single box of societal beauty Ideals will almost certainly have at least one trait or feature about their appearance that they are insecure about or feel is "ugly", bc even within the constraints of conventional attractiveness theres subjectivity

also this fish was so fucking Ugly and i adored it so much. i miss him.

he was also gorgeous.

[gay-fordeath]

.

[dizzybevvie]

Feel free to ignore this!!! this is kinda like public journalling?? i dont wanna keep talking to my friends about it <3

[maraeffect]

having one of those days where i'm just sick of being an adult. i'm tired of being sick, i'm tired of having to deal with it, i'm tired of being exhausted and overwhelmed. so many huge decisions, so many sleepless nights, and so many things on my plate that can't be ignored.

[bumbleblurr]

I gotta hold myself accountable to when I'm making content that's not really based on canon at all, so I remain self aware & whatnot, but I still occasionally think things like "but blurr should be arcee's number one fan 🥺.... bc i said so........"

[xoadoratio]

help i only have two hobbies and i think i despise one of them but i’m being pressured to continue it what do i do

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.

Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3

When you have a superhuman with superior senses, they’re bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.

It’s why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel have…something between the two of you. It’s just that no one is quite sure what.

Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.

Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.

A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.

You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.

Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.

~

“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.

“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.

“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.

“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.

They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.

“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.

“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.

You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.

You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.

They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.

You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.

“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?

“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.

“OW!”

~

Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?

The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.

Well, unless you were there.

“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.

“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.

“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.

“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.

Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.

For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.

There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.

“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.

“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.

“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.

“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.

Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.

There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.

He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.

It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.

~

“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.

“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.

Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.

“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”

“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.

You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.

“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.

“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”

“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.

“Please,” he mutters.

“What was that?”

“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.

“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.

“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.

“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.

“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.

In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.

With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.

And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.

“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask

“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.

“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.

“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.

“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.

“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.

~

It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.

Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.

Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.

“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.

She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.

“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.

“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”

You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.

“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.

“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.

“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.

And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.

~

People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.

It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.

“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.

“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.

“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”

Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.

Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.

“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”

~

“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.

“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.

Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.

“What makes you think so?”

“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.

“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.

Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.

“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.

“We’re actually married.”

The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.

Then, all hell breaks loose.

A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.

Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3

Part two out now!! Read it here.

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Simon taking care of you when you accidentally injured yourself. Just fluff cuz I need fluff :D .

cw: pet names (princess, love etc.)

“Simon, I’m home!”

You opened the front door, only to see Simon sitting on the couch. Hearing your voice, he raised his head from the book he was infatuated with these days, and a low hum left him as a welcome.

“I’ll go shower first, the weather’s hot as hell, and I’m stink.”

You tossed the key onto the plate, nonchalantly passed your lover, but Simon could sense the difference in your movements.

“Stop.”

He stood up from the couch, and came straight towards you.

Oh no, you’re so fucked up.

“Hey, Si! I’m dirty! put me down!”

Simon ignored your yelling, scooping you up and over his shoulder.

“Don’t move.”

He demanded, and you swallowed hard when he grabbed your left ankle, and lifted the trouser legs.

“You’re hiding this from me?” His coffee-like brown eyes narrowed in disapproval, throwing you daggers while all you could do was let out a sigh.

“Sorry, Simon. Don’t want to concern you.”

Crooking his eyebrow, Simon darted his eyes back to observe the wound on your left calf. A long, deep cut went across half of your flesh, blood just managed to stop dripping, and fortunately didn’t stick your injury to the clothes.

“Where do you get this?”

“The parking lot of the market. Didn’t see a rock and stumble over it, and the pin sticking out of a wall dug into my leg when I tried to steady myself.” You shrugged.

You knew he was worried and hated to see you get hurt, that’s why you try to sneak to the bathroom and deal with it yourself. Simon’s eyes softened when he learned how you get yourself injured, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t allow you to do things alone for at least a week.

“let’s go shower.” He picked you up swiftly as if you weighed nothing, and you just melted into his touch.

“You gonna help me?” Even though you knew the answer, you still asked when he strode to the bathroom.

“You think there’s other options?”

“... No.”

“Good Girl.” planting a kiss on your forehead, he kicked open the door.

“Close your eyes, don’t want to sting them, love.”

Your satisfied grumble when his hands attentively scratched your head made Simon chuckle. He put you in the warm bathtub, and the little chair looked comical under his bulky stature, but you didn’t laugh at him this time, instead focusing on his hands.

His hands, working magically through your hair, carefully not to tug your hair with too much strength. The hands that always protect you, the hands that are littered with scars, soaked with blood, but massage your shoulders when you are tired, shuffle your hair when you playfully argue with him, place on your belly when he hugs you from behind and whispered his affection to you.

He reserved all his tenderness to you, and you wondered why you were lucky enough to have this man as yours.

“Told you to close your eyes, love.”

You smiled when Simon finally discovered you had been staring at him from the start.

“Am I not allowed to watch my beautiful husband?”

“Don’t complain when the sud run into those pretty eyes then.” He huffed out a laugh.

When it came to you, he just couldn’t do anything but surrender to your adorable cheekiness. He thought when he couldn’t help but give your cheek a peck.

You sat on the edge of your bed now. Simon had dry your hair, and made you put on your underwear and his black shirt.

He was kneeling in front of you now, picking through the gauze and disinfectant. He seemed to find all the things he needed. Placing them aside, he took your ankle in his hand again.

“It’ll hurt a bit.”

He traced circles on your thigh to soothe the pain when he sprayed the antiseptic on your wound and waited for it to dry.

“You’re doing well, love. We’re almost finished.”

He cooed when he saw you blinked away a tear hanging on the corner of your eye.

Nodding, you watched him cover the wound with gauze and secure it.

“Thank you, Si.”

You chanted softly when his thumb caressed on the tape. Simon didn’t let go of your ankle when you thanked him, but landed a kiss beside the gauze.

“A spell for faster healing” The childish glints in his eyes were obvious when he lifted his head to meet your eyes.

“Don’t know you’re such a romantic person, baby.” You poke his cheek with a laugh.

“Guess there’s more of me yet for you to figure out.

He threw the bottles back into the medkit, and finally stood up after kneeling for ten minutes.

“Anything you want now, princess?”

“cuddle with me, Simon. The wound hurts.”

“Who’s the one trying to hide it thirty minutes ago?”

Lying on your back on the bed, his blonde hair shined under the light, but not brighter than the languid smirk he wore on his lips.

“Are you saying you don’t want to cuddle with me now?”

“Are there other options?”

“of course not, handsome.” You worm yourself into the comforter, and beckoned him to join you.

Slump down on the bed, he wiggled himself into his usual cuddling posture, arms snaked around your waist, and covered your belly with his palm.

“Anything for you, love.” You felt he kissed the shell of your ear when your eyes closed under the coziness.