#the one in my brain is a grumpy piece of shit

[eryanlainfa]

The Varian in my brain literally every day for shock value: I killed my mom, so-

FJFDKLDHDJDDK LMAO your Varian sounds like a fun guy

So glad to hear. They're just all like that uh

[pedrospatch]

flutter

Jackson! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner. 

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair. 

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?” 

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten. 

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home. 

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains. 

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

[sophsicle]

I'm Sorry I'm the One You Love

Part II (Part I)

He doesn't know what wakes him up. Or. Well. He does. It's James. But it's not as though the other boy is making any noise. And yet for some reason Sirius feels his eyes blinking open in the middle of the night, staring sleepily at the canopy over his fourposter bed.

Something in his chest pulls, yanks, tugs, throws a fit. Grumpily he sits up, scrubbing at his face, considers getting a glass of water, going to the kitchens for something sweeter. He hasn't got an actual plan when he pulls back the curtains around his bed, pausing when he spots the silhouette sitting in the window.

He knows who it is, of course.

Even in the dark, half-asleep.

Ah, he thinks. As though this is any kind of explanation for his sudden insomnia. It isn't. And it is. The pair of them tied together with a piece of string. Always pulling on one another. Come here. Come closer. Look at me. Look at me. Look at me, me, me.

"This seat taken?" he whispers, stopping in front of the window. James starts, tearing his eyes away from the glass and blinking up at him.

"Shit, did I wake you up?"

"Nah," even though he isn't sure it's true, squeezing himself into the spot across from James. The other boy is tense, Sirius can feel it immediately, his shoulders all the way up his neck, hands tapping manically at his knees, jaw clenched.

"You okay?" Sirius asks eventually, when it becomes clear James isn't going to say anything.

"Fine."

Sirius arches his brow even though James isn't looking at him, eyes back out the window.

"You wanna try that again?"

James huffs, shooting Sirius a weak smile. "Sorry," running a hand over his face. "Sorry, nothing- or - I don't know," he lets out a breath, and Sirius finds himself reaching out, wrapping his hand around James's ankle and squeezing. That earns him another smile. It's brittle though. Sirius hates it.

"I didn't fly very well last game," James says finally. Sirius would laugh if it weren't for the fact that James looks so serious about it. "And my essay for potions was crap. And like, I think I've done something to piss Lily off but I don't know what it is, and I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to have to ask, you know? And my mum's written me twice and I keep trying to answer her, but every time I start writing I feel like my heart is going to choke me and I don't even know why-"

"James," Sirius tries to sound as soothing as possible, he's not sure he's exactly made for it. Soothing. Softness. But he does his best.

"-and the full moon is coming up and I think Remus is feeling it more than he's letting on and I keep trying to help but you know how he is. He was definitely in pain today though, and I just keep thinking that I should have pushed more-"

"James."

"-like make him lie down or take a pain potion or something. I don't know why I didn't. Maybe he would have been grumpy about it but at least he wouldn't have been in pain anymore which is worth it. I-"

"Oi!" Sirius hisses, letting go of James's ankle so he can grab hold of his wrists and give him a shake. James looks at him, startled, but at least he's stopped spiralling. "Breathe."

"I am breathing."

"Bullshit. Breathe. Four count, okay?"

And he thinks James is going to fight him, but then he inhales, the pair of them counting together. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. After a few times James drops his head.

"Sorry," he manages.

Sirius makes an unimpressed noise. "Don't be stupid."

"My brain just...won't stop."

"I noticed."

A half-hearted laugh as James looks up at him again. Sirius isn't sure which one of them does it, or if it's both of them. Neither of them. Some natural occurrence they have no control over. But Sirius's grip shifts, their fingers slotting together so that they're holding hands.

"Sorry," James says again.

"Please shut-up."

"Right."

"You were brilliant in the last match," he goes on, James giving him a skeptical look. "You're always brilliant. We lost because Ravenclaw's beaters are maniacs, not because you weren't good enough."

"Sirius-"

"I said, shut-up," James does, obediently, though this time there's a hint of amusement. "Your essay is going to get perfect marks like every damn thing you write, Evans has not, in all the years I've known her, been afraid to tell you when she thinks you've done something wrong, if there was a problem I have no doubt she would let you hear about it. Your mum will understand that you can't answer every letter. You'll write her when you have less on your plate. And Moony's a bloody masochist, I honestly think he gets off on the pain at this point. Regardless, there is nothing you could have done to make him take care of himself properly and you know it."

James is staring at him with a stupid expression on his face. Sappy. Dripping all over the place. It's absolutely disgusting. Sirius hopes he never stops looking at him like that.

"Anything else?" he asks, with the smallest twitch of the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah. Stop picking at yourself. You're perfect."

That gets him a real laugh. "Perfect?"

"I said what I said."

Before Sirius has time to react James is yanking on their hands, half pulling Sirius into his lap, wrapping his arms around him, Sirius's face landing in his neck. It's not exactly a comfortable position. But Sirius doesn't complain. Can't even contemplate moving.

"I love you Sirius Black," James murmurs, arms too tight.

It's inadequate. But it's what they have.

"Yeah, I love you too."

[drabbles-mc]

A Bet's A Bet

Rick Flag x F!Reader

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo Square: lost a bet

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, pining

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I love him, what else can I say? 😂 I love to see a gruff, grumpy man squirm a little bit lmao.

Suicide Squad Taglist: @garbinge @beardburnsupersoldiers @words-and-seeds @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

“This is ridiculous,” Rick muttered as he picked the shot glass up from the surface of the bar.

You laughed as you watched him drink it, his head tilted back for a moment. He hardly even cringed. “I mean, you sort of set yourself up for it.” The offended look on his face was impossible to miss and it only made you laugh harder. “What? He’s literally so good at shooting people that they let him back out of prison to do it. Did you really think that you were going to beat him?”

“You don’t think I could?”

You shook your head before taking a sip of your beer. “I think that remains to be seen.” You flagged down the bartender and asked them to bring Rick another shot. You saw the look he gave you and laughed. “What? The bet was two shots and one—”

“I know, I know,” he grumbled, begrudgingly downing the second shot before looking back over at you again, “Just didn’t think that you would sell me out like that.”

You hummed in amusement even though you knew that he most likely couldn’t hear you over the noise of the bar. “I’m here to keep you honest, Flag.”

The shot glass made a loud clattering sound as he practically tossed it back onto the bar. “I think I might be the only honest one here.” He heard the dramatic gasp you let out at his statement and he laughed before looking over at you. “Yea. Including you.”

Your offended façade only lasted a moment longer before you started laughing again. “Fuck off. If you didn’t want me here, I wouldn’t be.”

“You know I don’t pick—”

“You don’t get to pick anyone from the roster in Belle Reve,” you pointed at him with the beer bottle in your hand, “but you do get to pick who’s gonna be on your team if they’re not behind bars.” His silence spoke volumes and you laughed in triumph. “And here I am yet again!”

“Shut up and drink your beer,” he said, shaking his head like you couldn’t spot the way the ends of his mouth were beginning to curl into a smile.

“Alright,” you took another swig, “but when I’m done, you gotta—”

“I know what I gotta,” he cut you off as he leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the edge of the bar.

“You make it sound so unbearable.” You couldn’t help but to laugh at his dramatics.

He turned around so that he was facing the dance floor. Leaning, he rested back against the bar. He spoke to you even though his eyes were scanning the rest of the bar and the dancefloor to keep an eye on the rest of your team.

“How long you known me?” he asked, still not looking at you.

You laughed as you maneuvered to copy his position. “Too fuckin’ long at this point, I think,” you joked.

“Right,” he agreed with a nod before finally looking over at you. “And in all that time, when the hell have you ever seen me dance?”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but then you snapped it shut again when you realized that you really hadn’t ever seen it. Not even way back when you were all deployed together and had downtime to fuck around between ops. Things got crazy when the whole squad had too much time on their hands, but no matter the volume of the music or the number of drinks that were passed around, Rick never danced. He got up to plenty of other ridiculous and irresponsible things, but not that.

“Holy shit,” you finally said with a laugh.

His lips flattened into a thin line and he have a single nod. “Yea.”

“Wait a second,” you shut your eyes tight for one moment as your brain started putting all of the puzzle pieces together, creating more of the insane picture that was Colonel Rick Flag, “you’re telling me that we’ve been out here, doing all of this insane shit, and you’ve never—”

“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.

“Because I can’t believe it.” You shook your head. “Out here ready to be murdered by an alien or something when you’ve never even danced.”

“Tell me how those two things are related?”

“Alright,” you said as you shook your head. Bringing your beer bottle to your lips, you downed the rest of it in one go before setting it back on the bar and looking over at Rick. “Let’s go. Come on.”

You started to walk away from the bar and towards the dancefloor. You only got a step and a half away before you noticed that Rick wasn’t following you. You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. Turning back around, you reached and grabbed onto his hand.

“Let’s go!” you said with a laugh.

Rick huffed, but he let you pull him along. If he really wanted nothing to do with it, he would’ve just planted his feet and been done with it. He dragged his feet a little bit but he still went. You felt it the moment it went from you just grabbing onto his hand to pull him along to him grasping your hand back. His fingers hooked around yours, the callouses of his palm rough but still warm against yours. You were glad that your back was mostly to him and that he couldn’t see the stupid little grin on your face over it.

“This is so fuckin’ stupid,” he muttered when the two of you got to the middle of the dancefloor.

You laughed, knowing that it was loud enough that no one else probably heard him, but you certainly did. “And yet,” you stepped in so you were pressed close to him, “you’re still out here.”

He scoffed. “A bet’s a bet.”

You were giddy. “Very honorable of you, Colonel.” There were a few beats where neither of you said anything, neither of you moved, and you couldn’t help but to laugh. Resting your hands flat against his chest, you leaned in so that he’d hear you without having to yell. “I think the bet was more than just you getting out here, Flag.”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m aware.”

“It’s not that bad. Promise.”

He looked at everyone around the two of you. It was like no one even noticed that he was there, which he would be eternally grateful for after he survived this. He scanned the place, and realized that the only person watching him besides you, was DuBois, the person who had sent him out onto the dancefloor in the first place. Before he watched long enough to see the rest of the team crumble into fits of laughter at his expense, his eyes were back on you. You seemed as unfazed about this as you were about everything else.

“I don’t think you were part of the bet, by the way,” he mentioned as you danced.

You laughed. “Yea, ‘cause you were gonna come out here alone. Sure.” You could see the way he was shaking his head and even though you couldn’t hear him with all the noise in the bar, you were sure that he was mumbling and cursing under his breath. Bringing your hands from his chest to his sides, you forced him to start swaying, trying not to laugh at the confused and disgruntled look on his face. “God you are the stiffest man alive.”

He tried to relax, but now he felt even more on-edge than before. Something about the warmth of your palms soaking through his shirt, noticeable even with how heavy the air already was with the bodies packed onto the dancefloor.

“Liked it better when I was getting shot at,” he finally said.

You laughed, shaking your head before stepping in close enough for your forehead to drop against him, resting just below his shoulder for a moment as you laughed. Peeling yourself away, you left your hands on his sides as you said, “Maybe we should’ve gotten you a third shot.”

“You’re enjoyin’ this way too much.”

“Watching you squirm?” you asked. When he nodded, you could only nod right back. “Just a little, yea.”

It took longer than it should’ve for him to ease into it. And even when he did, he was still awkward, still stiff. Which really as about what you’d expected. You couldn’t deny that it was funny watching Rick Flag trying to force himself to loosen up and have a good time. It’d apparently been too long since he’d really tried to do anything of the sort.

You kept yourself pinned close to him. You knew that he wouldn’t on his own, so you took the initiative and placed his hands on your waist, letting yours come to rest on his shoulders in return. It was amusing to you to see how hesitant he was about it. The same man who had dragged you when you were bloodied and beaten, the same man who you had to cram into the world’s smallest, most uncomfortable spaces with to keep yourselves alive, was suddenly skittish when your closeness had background music to go with it.

Rick was only on the hook for one dance. That was the bet. Mostly because no one thought that he would actually get out there and follow through on it. You couldn’t say that you blamed them, but Rick had never been the kind to back down from a challenge or an order. Or a bet, apparently.

When the song changed, one flowing easily into the next, you thought that he was immediately going to turn tail and run. You’d understand it—you could still feel the slightly anxious and awkward energy coming off of him. Something completely foreign given the source, the same person who didn’t flinch running into a firefight beside you. But despite the small, lingering traces of discomfort, he stayed. Because even though his muscles were still a bit tense, even though he still hadn’t quite figured out what he was like to have a sense of rhythm, he liked the way it felt to have his hands on the small of your back. He liked the way the tips of your fingers reached just past where the collar of his t-shirt stopped.

He hadn’t even felt those thoughts creeping up on him until it was too late. It felt like one second he was looking around to make sure the two of you hadn’t lost anyone, and the next second he was looking back to you and the wind got sucked clean out of his lungs. And you were so unbothered, so unaware. He hoped that it would stay that way.

Not that you’d been very far away from him to begin with, but suddenly you felt so much closer. He could feel the press of your entire body against his, the way that your legs somehow ended up slotted together. His hips were pinned to yours, his arms wrapped tight enough around you so that he was almost completely on-beat with you. At that point, though, he didn’t even care about the rest of it. The racing thoughts in his head were outrun only by the rapid beat of his heart. For the first time all night there was only one thing pulling his focus, and it was you as you stared back at him. You looked just about ready to completely melt into him and his entire mind blanked out one that thought entered his head.

You saw the shift in his eyes, but it was a look that you weren’t familiar with, one that you couldn’t place. Your hand that had been resting in the space where his neck met his shoulder slid up, palm on the side of his throat, fingertips grazing along his jaw. You tilted your head slightly, eyebrows raising to ask the question that you didn’t want to yell loudly in the midst of the club. His response was an equally wordless smile and small nod. You felt your breath get caught in your throat as you looked at him. It was impossible not to feel the way that the two of you were each leaning in closer to the other.

If it hadn’t been so loud on the dancefloor, you were sure that Rick would’ve been able to hear the pounding of your heart inside your chest. In all of the years that the two of you had known each other, all the late nights, long talks, and close quarters, this was the first time that you felt like things were about to cross a line into territory that you wouldn’t be able to backpedal from. You were shocked at how much you didn’t mind the thought of it.

He was close enough to you that you could feel his breath against your skin. Your heart was about to burst clean out of your chest and your lips were just about to touch his. You almost couldn’t believe that it was about to happen.

And then, before it could, you heard the tell-tale sounds of a fight breaking out on the other side of the bar. You didn’t even have to turn around and look to know that it was your team. Some of the most lethal metahumans in the world finally got to have a night out and they just couldn’t fucking handle it.

Rick’s attention snapped over to the noise immediately, the dazed look on his face was quickly replaced with annoyance. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he practically groaned. His arms dropped back to his sides, hands leaving he small of your back leaving an emptiness that neither of you liked or wanted to think too deeply on.

You turned and followed his stride, both of you weaving through the tightly paced groups of people the best that you could. You had no idea what someone said to Peacemaker to get him to swing, but you really didn’t care at that point either. It was bad enough when one team member went rogue, it was worse when it turned into one of the few moments that everyone decided to be on the same side about something and everyone else got involved. You expected this kind of stuff from Peacemaker, but seeing Harley about to smash a beer bottle over someone’s head definitely made you a little extra concerned.

“Alright! Alright!” Rick wasn’t even attempting to hide his annoyance as he started pulling people apart. “Overstayin’ our welcome. Let’s get outta here.”

You caught out of the corner of your eye that DuBois was about to grab his gun and you quickly put your hand on his arm to stop him. He looked at you, peeved at the entire thing. You shook your head. “Not in here.”

He shook his head but he still followed your lead. He wasn’t that dedicated to picking a fight. Once you had him agreeing with you, it became much easier to round everyone up and get them out of the bar. Rick was practically dragging people by their collars but it worked nonetheless. You all had about seven hours before you would get in the chopper and brought back home. With the way things had unfolded so far, some of you might at least be able to use a couple of those to sleep.

Everyone’s rooms were all grouped together. It was a crappy little motel off the beaten path, but it was better than nothing. You were surprised that Waller got you all set up with anything at all, honestly. You’d take what you could get. You and Rick opted to share a room, the foot separating your two queen beds seemed odd now in a way that it never would have before.

“Everyone all locked up in their rooms?” you asked, half-joking, half-serious when Rick came into your room.

He chuckled, nodding. “Yea. All of ‘em are in time-out till we get back to Belle Reve.”

“Yea,” you rolled your eyes as you plopped down and sat on the edge of your bed, “because it’s not like prison is a time-out for them or anything.” You paused, watching as Rick flopped onto the bed that you weren’t sitting on, dragging his hands down his face. “They tell you what happened?”

“No,” he mumbled through his fingers, “but I didn’t fuckin’ ask, either.”

You laughed. “Didn’t wanna know the drama?”

His reply came with no hesitation. “Nope.”

You were shaking your head, helpless to do anything besides stare over at him. You waited, wondering if he was going to say anything about what had happened at the bar with the two of you. With the chaos dealt with and everyone safely stowed away in their rooms, you figured that this was going to be the closest thing that the two of you got to privacy for a while.

There must’ve been a graceful way to bring it up, a way that wouldn’t be awkward or jarring. You just didn’t know what it was. You kept your mouth shut, twisting your fingers into the blanket that rested on top of your bed.

Rick’s eyes were still closed, he was still laying on his bed with his legs dangling off the very end of it because he hadn’t scooted up enough before collapsing onto it. Even with all of that, he still felt you staring at him.

“What?” he asked, not turning to look at you as he did.

You shook his head like he could see you, because it felt like he could. Clearing your throat, you forced out, “Nothing.”

The end of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “Liar.”

It eased some of the tension you were feeling, the laughter that came out of you making you feel a little better about it all. “Shut up.”

Opening his eyes, he turned and looked over at you. “What is it?”

You shook your head. “Nothing, really. Just,” you sighed, “wild night.”

“I mean,” he chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows, “thinkin’ about everything else we’ve been through? Really not…you know…”

You let out a soft laugh, one that was quieter than you wanted it to be. “That’s true.”

“Look—”

“About the bar—”

You both started talking at the same time, both of you stopping when you heard the other. There were a few seconds of awkward silence before you both started laughing. You nodded for him to continue, beating him to the punch.

“Look,” he started again with a laugh, “I was just gonna say…” he trailed off, “I don’t really know what I was gonna fuckin’ say,” he admitted with a laugh.

“I think,” you said, a joking lilt already in your tone, “that considering you’ve never attempted to have any rhythm in your life, you really didn’t do that bad.”

He laughed, shaking his head at you. “Shut up.”

“I mean there’s room for improvement, for sure,” you nettled him just to get another laugh out of him, “but I thought it was going to go much worse.”

“Wow,” he sat up the rest of the way, hands braced on the edge of the bed so he was nearly mirroring the position that you were in, “thanks for the endorsement.”

“It’s an honest one, at least.”

He shook his head but he was still smiling. “Always is with you.”

You figured while you were in the vein of being honest, you might as well go for broke. “I also thought you were gonna kiss me,” the words tumbled out, rushed but clear enough. You chuckled nervously. “You know, before Peacemaker banged some guy’s face off the table.”

Rick’s eyes were still widened from the first part of your statement. He knew that it was his turn to say something, but he couldn’t find the right words. “I thought I was too.”

Warmth spread across your chest at his words, a smile instantly breaking out across your face. Your nerves didn’t dissipate completely, but there was a sense of security in it all that you hadn’t felt before. He could see it, too, the way that your body eased. He was up on his feet again before he could think to stop himself. It only took a couple strides for him to wind up next to you, the mattress sinking slightly beneath his weight as he sat down. He was close enough for the outside of your thigh to be pressed up against his.

“Rick—”

You didn’t get the rest of your sentence out as he leaned in and brought his lips to yours. Nothing you could’ve said would have had any shot in hell at being better than the feeling of him kissing you. You could still taste the faintest hint of liquor off of him from the bar, could feel his stubble beneath the pads of your fingers as they pressed against his jaw. He grabbed onto your waist, his grip firm, like he was determined not to let you or this moment slip away from him a second time.

When the two of you finally came back up for air, you didn’t pull away very far. His forehead was still pressed against yours, chests flush as he continued to hold onto your hip. You smiled, thumb grazing over his cheek as you tried to soak in the moment for all that it was worth.

“You’re better at kissing than you are at dancing, you know,” you finally said, whispering without quite meaning to, like what the two of you were sharing was a secret just for the both of you to know about.

He laughed quietly. “Thank god for that, huh?”

You smiled wider, shaking your head before pulling his lips back to yours. “C’mere.”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Part two to this.

Dustin Henderson was furious and confused. How could Eddie do this? He was the only besides Robin and Wayne who knew they had started dating before he had left for the road, so it's not like he could tell anyone. He couldn't sleep all night, and when he woke up the next morning, he was very grumpy. He decided to bike over to Steve’s to check on him, knowing Steve hadn't been feeling well.

Dustin used his key and unlocked the door. When he walked in, he heard the sound of Eddie singing coming from the kitchen. He scowled and stormed into the kitchen, slamming the door open. Eddie shrieked and turned around, putting a hand to his chest.

"Henderson, man, you scared me!" Eddie exclaimed and turned off the stove. "You're just in time. I made breakfast. Should be enough for everyone."

"How can you stand there after what you did?!" Dustin yelled. "You son of a bitch!"

"Woah! Man, what the fuck are you talking about?" Eddie asked.

"You're going to pretend like you don't know exactly what I'm talking about?" Dustin asked and cracked his knuckles. "I'm going to try and beat the shit out of you. You can at least let me get one shot in, okay?"

Dustin raised his fists at Eddie, his eyes narrowed. That's when Steve came into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eye.

"What in the hell is going on?" Steve asked.

"Dustin wants to fight me," Eddie said, pursing his lips as he struggled not to laugh.

"Why?" Steve asked, laughing.

"This son of a bitch cheated on you!" Dustin exclaimed.

"What?!" Steve asked with wide eyes.

"No! I swear, Steve!" Eddie squeaked.

"I was shopping with my mom yesterday when Eddie came in and told the guy behind the counter all about how he was going to be a daddy," Dustin said. "There's no way in hell that he could have gotten you pregnant."

"Jesus Christ!" Steve said, breathing a sigh of relief and tilting his head back. "That was a misunderstanding. When he heard I wasn't feeling well, he drove all night. He overheard a conversation between me and Robin. In his sleep deprived brain, he thought the bat bites made it possible for him to get me pregnant."

"You know, there might be something to that," Dustin said, lowering his fists and tapping his chin.

"It was food poisoning!" Steve exclaimed.

"Oh, did Robin try to cook for you again?" Dustin asked.

"Hey!" Robin exclaimed as she stumbled into the kitchen. "That's rude. What's going on?"

"Dustin here tried to defend my honor," Steve said.

"It was very cute," Eddie said.

"He thought Eddie cheated on me," Steve said.

"Aww, Dusty Bun," Robin cooed, pinching his cheeks.

"Let's just eat, okay?" Dustin grumbled, blushing. "I'm glad you're back and that I didn't have to hit you, Eddie. Steve. . .Let's talk business. I'm officially calling dibs on me being godfather to your unborn child."

"I called dibs on being godmother!" Robin said excitedly.

"That doesn't surprise me," Dustin said.

"Oh, not this again!" Steve said, throwing up his hands. "Do I look pregnant?"

"I wasn't going to say anything," Robin said.

"Don't listen to them, sweetheart, I think you look great," Eddie said.

"Okay! No more baby talk! We are eating breakfast and we are going to do it quietly!" Steve exclaimed. "Understood!"

It was completely quiet as they ate. Dustin and Eddie kept trying to gross each other out by showing off their chewed up food. The only thing it did was gross the other two out. Steve had to throw a piece of toast at them. Steve had thought for sure he had been done throwing up, but he had been proven wrong shortly after breakfast. He pulled his head out of the toilet bowl long enough to try to speak to Robin on the other side of the door. Eddie sat behind him, rubbing his back.

"Robin. . ."

"Yeah?"

"Can you do me a favor?" Steve asked.

"Sure."

"Can you go out and buy me a pregnancy test?" Steve asked.

"On it," Robin said, and they heard her run off.

"Seriously?" Eddie asked.

"It wouldn't hurt," Steve said.

The four of them crowded around the test, waiting with bated breath. There was no fucking way, Steve thought. Why was this taking forever? Steve leaned against Eddie, tapping his leg anxiously. Eddie placed a hand on his leg, caressing it gently. The kitchen timer went off, and they jumped up all at once. They leaned over the bathroom sink.

"Oh, shit," Steve whispered.

Dustin and Robin whispered excitedly to each other while Steve looked at Eddie with wide eyes.

"Where's the baby going to come out?" Eddie blurted out.

"Steve’s butt, duh. I mean, isn't that where you put it in?" Dustin asked, and they all turned to look at him. "What? Am I wrong?"

Should I make a third part? If I do, you want to pick your poison? Should it be a false positive or an actual baby?

Part three

[chaotic-mystery]

Not A Survivalist Girl: Part 3

“Mr. Fucking Piece of Work Miller”

Written by @chaotic-mystery & @tightjeansjavi

(Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary: Joel Miller lives a life alone. It's the way he likes it. After losing his daughter 13 years ago, and his brother Tommy ditching him for the fireflies out west, he doesn't have much sympathy, nor care for what remains of civilization. That is..until he meets you in the woods one cold night. How stupid could you really be to light a fire, and put yourself in imminent danger.

Warnings: implied age gap, canon typical violence (eventually) slow burn, mean! Joel, dark! Joel, is literally just a grumpy old asshole!Joel, sunshine reader, no survival skills but she's doing her best, Joel is a loner, mentions of depression, PTSD, trauma, childloss, angst, grumpy vibes, some degradation, nicknames, teasing, eventual smut, (+18) minors dni!

WC: 3.1k

At dawn's impending approach, Joel was still wide awake. He didn’t sleep much these days anyway. His eyes were dry, and crusty and his back ached from sitting on a log all fucking night. The pain reminded him that he was still alive, that he was still breathing. There was frost coating the dry grass in little ice crystals and the fire from the night before had completely died out. Not even the morsels of hot embers remained. Joel was freezing but he would be damned if he’d wrap himself up in your stupid fluffy pink blanket. That was until his teeth started to chatter, and he could see his cold puffs of air. With a grumble of pure annoyance, he wrapped his broad frame in the fluffy blanket. He wasn’t happy about it but what choice did he really have?

As you climbed out of your tent and slowly made your way to Joel, your eyes fell on your pink blanket that was draped around his broad shoulders. “Good morning, I uh- I see you found my blanket.” You cleared your throat and crossed your arms over your chest for warmth. The morning sun was barely peeking over the horizon, the air nipping at your cheeks. Joel immediately took the blanket off of him like it had something wrong with it and practically shoved it in your arms as he stood up in front of you.

Joel responded with a grunt as he slowly stood up from the log, bringing his hand to his lower back as he tried to stretch it out. Goddamn log. Goddamn stupid fucking fluffy pink blanket. Goddamn stupid cans hanging from a fucking tree. Goddamn birds chirping. Goddamn. Goddamn. Goddamn. You looked cute in the morning. That was for goddamn sure.

“So are you really not going to let me come with you? I can be so helpful to you and you don’t even want to consider that?” You were trying to make him a great offer, but he instantly called your bluff.

Joel scoffed under his breath as he straightened out his back before reaching down and grabbing ahold of his rifle that was resting along the log. “Now why the hell would I let you come with me, girlie? You don’t got shit to fuckin’ offer me. Except for another body to look out for and a mouth to feed. Do I really come across as the charitable type? Cause I sure as hell ain’t.”

Your eyes looked up as you were taking in his answer like you could see it working through your brain. “That's…very true, but think of it this way: you can show me how to shoot guns, use knives better, I can look out when we go hunting so you can actually get some sleep and not be a grouchy ass man! It’s perfect and we both win!” The singsong tone you had going on was getting on his last nerve and you loved it.

Joel chucked under his breath as he cocked his rifle, slinging it over his shoulder. “You? Look out for me? That’s cute darlin’. Absolutely fuckin’ adorable actually that you think I have any use for you. The hell am I supposed to do with your ditzy self and that fuckin’ pink blanket, Hm? Enlighten me girlie.”

As your mind raced for a useful response, you started to panic as he was losing patience quickly. “I just don’t want to be left by myself anymore and I know for a fact I can be helpful to you if you teach me, please..I don’t know where to go from here. It’s a miracle I’ve lasted this long but I’ll do anything, I’ll listen to everything you say.” Your twiddling thumbs came to a stop with your sentence as you met his eyes, showing him how serious you were being.

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath as he squeezed his eyes shut momentarily and muttered something unintelligible through gritted teeth. The truth was, Joel had spent all fucking night going over the pros and the cons of taking you with him. Unbeknownst to you, he just wanted to see how far you would go to insure your own safety. Leaving you out here to fend for yourself was certainly a death warrant. You were the first living person he had come across in months and perhaps the company wouldn’t be entirely awful. He also just couldn’t stand to face the flashing images in his head of you being torn apart by clickers, or worse.

The silence started to put fear in your heart, not really sure if he’d change his mind and let you tag along with him to wherever the hell he was going. The truth was just that: you needed him. Somehow his scary presence he tried so hard to put forward wasn’t scary to you, it actually made you want to know more about him. You tucked some of your hair behind your ear and crossed your arms slowly as you waited for his response, preparing yourself to hear him tell you no.

“You’ll listen to everything I say? No questions asked? You’re damn right it’s a miracle that you have lasted this fuckin’ long out here girlie. You clearly got some fight left in ya.” I can’t believe I’m about to do this. Joel internally said to himself. Allowing you to travel with him was going to take some time getting used to. An adjustment that would come with all the bumps, and nitty gritty shit along the way.

“You can come with me girlie. I’ll keep you safe, and I’ll teach you everything you need to survive. Don’t go and get all excited just yet cause I got some fuckin’ ground rules. First, you listen to everythin’ I tell ya to do, got it? Whatever I say goes and trust me, you ain’t gonna want to start arguin’ with me. If I tell you to run? You fuckin’ run. If I tell you to shoot? You fuckin’ shoot. Finally, if you get bit, just realize right now that I’m gonna have to kill ya. I’d make it quick, painless before the cordyceps spread. Do yourself a favor and do not get bit. Alright?” Joel spoked sternly, he wanted to instill a bit of fear into you. Some tough love if you will. He hoped to god that he’d never have to kill you under any circumstances.

“Thank fucking god, you didn’t have to wait so long to say that, this isn’t some movie where we need dramatic effects!” You let out a huge fake sigh and sarcastically wiped your forehead, trying to play it off that you weren’t actually scared.

“How about you just say fuckin’ thank you for me saving your goddamn life? Don’t make me change my mind, girlie. Those clickers are still gonna be lookin’ for a snack.” Joel grumbled before he reached into his bag and pulled out a small pistol. “You know how to use one of these things girlie? Or would you prefer a knife? Pick your poison cus’ I got lots of it.”

“Thank you oh so very much kind sir, how ever will I repay you?” You mocked in a terrible southern accent. You thought about all the options he listed and decided on the knife, holding out your hand for him. There was no turning back now, you were in it. You were here and you had to listen to everything he says, but where's the fun in that?

Joel let out a grumbled sigh as he stuffed the pistol back into his backpack before retrieving a decent sized combat knife and handed it over with the blade pointing towards the ground. “Try to not hurt yourself with this, alright sweetheart? She’s pretty sharp.”

“Well if I do hurt myself I have plenty of bandages to use, I’ll just need a hand with it probably” you teased and observed the knife, your thumb brushing over the sharp blade gently. “So where are we going now? Don’t really think you want to stay here after killing all those clickers last night.” Even when he grumbled and talked to you as if you didn’t know a fucking knife was sharp, he was still growing on you. Sure you only met him last night, but you weren’t afraid to admit he was easy on the eyes.

Joel let out a deep sigh as he zipped up his bag. It had only just dawned upon him that he was going to have to share a space with a whole other human being now. His cabin was his safe space. His solace. His home. The fact of reality was he didn’t really want to have to share his space, but what choice did he really have? He promised to protect you and stubborn as he may be, he was a man of his word. “Well, I’ve uh—got a cabin 10 miles west of here. It’s a bit of a hike so I hope you ain’t gonna complain too much about bein’ on your feet.”

“You have a cabin? Why didn’t we go back to it last night instead of sleeping out in the fucking cold?” You start to take the supplies from inside your tent out as you wait for his response. After the third item you put outside the tent, you felt like he was judging so you wrapped everything else in your sleeping bag and rolled it shut, setting it outside in a ball. “Regardless why we didn’t go back, I can’t go to someone’s cabin who won’t even tell me their name, ya know?” The desperation was apparent, you just wanted to know his name.

“Use your head, girlie. Why the hell would I take a total stranger back with me in the middle of the night? Like I said earlier, I ain’t a charitable person. Plus if you knew any better, traveling at night, is by far one of the dumbest things to fuckin’ do out here.” He stated as a matter of factly. Course she wants to know my name. “It’s Joel. My name is Joel. Don’t go and wear it out, cus’ I jus’ have a feelin’ that you will girlie.”

The sound of his name just sparks something inside you, you feel your heart racing a little more now that you finally have a name with a face. “Joel..I like that. It suits you.” I definitely will be wearing it out though, in more ways than one, you thought quietly to yourself. Maybe it was your daddy issues or maybe because you haven’t been around humans in forever, but he set your body on fire, regardless of how much older he was than you.

“You’re a weird one, you know that girlie? It’s just an average Joe’s name. Ain’t nothin’ special about it.” He grumbled under his breath as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. “C’mon, we gotta get movin’ and I don’t plan on takin’ any rest breaks.” He strode past you, giving you a light shoulder check.

As you walk for what feels like forever, you finally make it to his cabin. It’s quaint but still beautiful and bigger than you thought it would be. “Holy shit, Joel! Did you build this yourself? This is amazing.” You compliment as your hand runs over the smooth wooden beam of the porch.

By the time you and Joel arrived at the cabin, Joel’s back was aching, and his boots felt way too tight but he did a good job of hiding it, especially when he was so close to having a stiff glass of whiskey. “Yeah I uh..built it. Took a bitch in a half, but it’s pretty sturdy. Hold your horses though, alright? I need to check to make sure the area is safe. Almost had a nasty run in with some raiders last month so I’ve taken some extra precautions.” He was already cocking his rifle, using his freehand to grasp your arm and yank you behind him protectively.

You’d be lying if you said him putting you behind his back while he looks for anything out of the ordinary didn't scare you. No one had ever been that protective over you though, the way his hands cocked his gun so fast, he didn’t hesitate to take the right measures to ensure your safety. It was hard not to admire him for his bravery. “Yeah I think I’ll just stay riiight back here, behind you.” You whispered and crouched behind him so all you could see was his back. You grabbed the bottom of his shirt to keep you following the right direction as you were close to him at all times.

Joel lightly smacked your hand away, turning his head slightly to look down at you with a narrowed glare. “Cut that shit out. How the hell am I gonna protect us if you’re grippin’ on me like that? Jus’ stay right here, and do not move till I say you can. You got that girlie?” He harshly whispered.

“What? No! You can’t leave me here by myself!” You half-whispered back at him as you dropped your hands to your side. There was a small chance someone could come out right now and stab you to death, leaving you to die in your own pool of blood and he wouldn’t even know it because he thought leaving you alone was a good idea.

“Shuddup. You’re gonna be fine! Just lay low and don’t make a fuckin’ sound.” He whispered as he glanced over his shoulder once more, giving you a reassuring small nod that everything was gonna be just fine. It was always just better to be safe, than sorry. He quietly climbed up the wooden steps, taking a small breath as he slowly pushed open the door handle to the cabin, aiming his gun around the expanse of the entryway. He meticulously checked every room in the small cabin before he made his way back to the front door, pushing it open as he peeked his head out. “Alright, girlie. Coast is clear. We’re safe.”

“Don’t do that shit again, not until you’ve taught me how to defend myself, buddy.” You said annoyed at your own fear making your skin crawl as you put your hand on his chest and pushed past him into his cabin.

“What the fuck did ya just say to me girlie?” Joel grasped your upper arm firmly around his calloused palm, stopping you in your tracks. “Keep that fuckin’ attitude up with me and you’ll be sleepin’ outside like a goddamn dog sweetheart.” His words were harsh, bitter down to the very bone.

“Let go of me, just show me where I’m sleeping, please I’m tired.” You knew you should apologize for your fear making you be so mean but fuck he didn’t need to be so harsh. You looked him in the eye as you tried to tug your arm away, not succeeding in the slightest.

Joel inhaled deeply, exhaling as his nostrils flared out. His grip loosened along your upper arm till it was gone completely. “Fine. Would a thank you fuckin’ hurt? I’m gonna have to teach you some fuckin’ manners.” He gritted through his teeth, striding past you. His boots were heavy along the wooden floor as he walked further into his home.

You rolled your eyes out of his sight and sighed, following him loosely. He could make you sleep on the floor if he really wanted you to, to which you’d lock him out of his bedroom and sleep in his bed. Then who’d be the one sleeping on the floor, Mr.Asshole? “Oh I have manners and I use them with people who deserve them. You, however, do not. Feel free to teach me anything else though, I’m a quick learner.”

“Oh my god, my poor poor heart. That really hurts me, girlie. Go on and twist the knife deeper, why don’t ya?” He scoffed under his breath as he walked down the hall before making an abrupt stop at the first room on the right. He shoved the door open with a small grunt. “This is where you’ll be sleepin.’ It ain’t much, but the bed is decent. Bathroom is down the hall. Don’t expect 5 star service either. Still workin’ on getting proper plumbing.”

“Well thank you, I will be sure to leave a review tomorrow morning, depending how the night goes. Thank you, and I’m sorry.” You hated saying sorry, but it was in your best interest to at this moment. You reached out to touch his arm, just to show him you meant no harm.

“Uh huh. You’re so very welcome.” His tone was laced with sarcasm and as soon as you reached out to touch his arm, he instinctively moved back. Joel was not an intimate person. Well, not on the surface at least. Even so, that part of him had died a long time ago. He wasn’t about to welcome it back in with open arms. “Get some sleep.” Was the last thing he said before he retreated from the open doorway. He grabbed his bottle of whiskey from the makeshift kitchen area, not even bothering to grab a glass before he took a large swig, muttering under his breath. The front door could be heard slamming shut shortly after as he went to stack wood on the log rack. His muscles ached, and his back was sore but these were things that Joel Miller had grown accustomed to. He’d rather suffer through physical pain than deal with his emotions.

As you made your way to the guest room, you noticed his room was right next to yours. Looking around for Joel in sight when you finally saw him outside carrying firewood to fill the log rack on the side of the cabin, you slipped in his room just for a moment. There was a framed photo of a younger version of Joel and a young girl was sitting on his nightstand, he was covering her eyes as the photo was being taken. She had a beautiful smile and this was a whole different version of Joel you didn’t even think existed. Context clues were telling you something bad had happened, but now was not the time to pry. Setting the pink duffle bag on the ground, you quickly grabbed your blanket from inside, fluffed it out and folded it so it was just the right size to lay at the end of the bed for him to use tonight. Regardless of what he said, he liked your blanket and he’d never admit it, and this was your peace offering for not having manners.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

🕷️ A Melody of Spiders: Chapter Two

A Melody of Spiders: You always tiptoed around your surly, grumpy boss Miguel O’Hara. Certainly after you had inadvertently fallen in love with him and didn’t feel like having your heart crushed. Or your workplace environment made awkward. Too bad your latest mission comes with a chemical surprise.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Material (Unprotected Sex is a No No), Honey Being Juvenile (hehe), Blood, Accidental Injury.

To Note: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!Reader.

Word Count: ~5.9k

Previous | Masterlist

You should have sensed the moment his muscles began shifting, but in your panic and concentration on the lab report, you weren’t paying attention and found yourself laying flat on your back in Miguel’s office with said man hovering over you. His claws were pressing into your shoulder and hip while he held you down. The points were digging through your suit into your skin and your body was telling you that he’d drawn blood, but you didn’t dare stray your eyes from his feral gaze.

“Miguel,” You calmly spoke, forcing your body to relax. “Miguel you need to—” You cut off the moment his face was suddenly in yours. It was like you were looking at an animal. One of your hands, which was pressed against his chest, pushed up to touch his cheek. “Come on Miguel, come back to me. I know you’re in there. Where’s my surly boss that hates everyone?”

Several tense seconds went by and you were beginning to wonder if you were going to have to fight your way out of this and dart Miguel’s ass with a tranquilizer to figure out what the hell was wrong with him.

“I don’t hate you,” Miguel grunted out, clarity returning to his eyes.

“Oh, great, reasonable you is back… mostly… what the fuck Miguel, you’ve got your claws in my suit.” You sniped at him. “Off and to the medical bay.”

“You shouldn’t have come here, changuita,” (Little Monkey) Miguel spit out, fighting the instinct to shred your suit to pieces. Your scent lingered everywhere, and left the massive spider nearly incapacitated.

“And you should be in medical!” You threw back, squirming against the large man. That only made Miguel’s predicament worse.

“Stop moving you are making it worse,” Miguel snarled, eyes flashing dangerously bright. You froze beneath him. “I can barely control myself as it is.”

You processed his words, wondering what you could possibly be doing to make this any worse. Then your brain finally decided to actually pay attention to what was going on with his body rather than just freak out. Elevated heart rate, blown pupils, uncontrolled muscle spasms, now that you thought of it, his reaction reminded you of a certain issue Earth-69 had almost a year ago.

“Shit, you don’t think…” Miguel’s eye twitched, right on the money as usual. But it was mortifying to have you see him in such a position. He watched the varying expressions flash across your face. “Okay, okay, we can deal with this, we can deal with this.”

“And how exactly do you propose we deal with this?” Miguel hissed, his muscles bulging. You winced as the tips of his claws dug further into your flesh. He really was strung up fighting against his urges. Sighing, you ran your thumb along the sharp line of his jaw.

“I take it medical is out of the question?” You softly questioned. Red eyes glowed dangerously and the hulking man let out a rumbling growl. You moving was entirely out of the question. Period. “Lyla, how long will it take for this to be metabolized?”

“Seven, eight hours at most.” Lyla informed you. Seven or eight hours? That wouldn’t be too unbearable and you could just hop, skip and swing your way out of Nueva York and not return for at least a month afterward! Staying far too busy with missions would also help you avoid Miguel.

“You better not rip my throat out for this,” You muttered to yourself before pulling Miguel’s head down and stretching up to kiss him. The large man pinning you down froze in place at your action, his addled mind finally focusing one one thing. You kissing him. With animalistic rumble in his chest, Miguel surged downwards and nearly smothered you with his lips, drawing a sharp gasp from your when a fang dragged across your lower lip. Almost immediately your situation went from you kissing Miguel, to Miguel kissing you.

For a brief moment, his claws dug a little further into your flesh and drew blood that rapidly soaked into your suit. Miguel could smell it and the metallic scent only made him want you more.

As Miguel pressed you further into the floor, your hands desperately tried to find purchase on his slick, muscled body. A hard thing to do when he wore his spider suit. His claws gripped your suit tightly, and you could feel the sticky warmth of your blood seeping through the fabric. The scent of it only seemed to fuel Miguel's desire, and he began to grind his hips against yours with a feral intensity.

"Miguel," you panted, "you need to...slow down."

He growled in response, his eyes burning with lust as he stared down at you. "Do we? I recall you giving me permission, Cariño." Fuck. His lips trailed down your neck, his fangs grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

As Miguel's claws tore through your suit, you felt a mix of fear and arousal surge through you. His eyes were locked on yours, and you could see the animalistic desire burning within them. You braced yourself as he roughly pulled the tattered remains of your suit away, leaving you entirely naked beneath him.

Miguel's gaze roamed over your body, taking in every inch of your exposed skin. His fangs gleamed in the dim light of his office as he lowered his head to your breasts, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise on your flesh. He ran his tongue over your nipple, and you arched your back, moaning at the sensation.

Miguel chuckled, the sound deep and throaty. "You taste so good, Cariño," he said before moving lower, his lips trailing a path down your abdomen. He paused for a moment, inhaling deeply, and you knew he was drinking in your scent. Then, with a growl, he continued his descent, his claws digging into the floor for purchase.

When Miguel's face finally reached your cunt, you felt his hot breath against your sensitive flesh, and your hips bucked involuntarily. He chuckled again, this time the sound was more like a hungry purr. "Eager, aren't we?" he said before doubling down on his efforts and rabidly eating you out.

His tongue lapped at your folds, his claws gently parting your labia to give him better access. You could hear him slurping and moaning as he feasted on your cunt, getting drunk on the taste of you. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt your body tensing, ready to explode with pleasure.

You gasped and moaned, your hips bucking against his face as he devoured you. The hot, wet sensation of his tongue on your sensitive flesh sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel your orgasm building, inching closer with each passing second.

Miguel growled in approval, his grip on your hips tightening as he tried to hold you still. "Stay still," he commanded, his voice rough and hungry. "I don't want to have to bite you to make that happen, do I?"

A lightning bolt of pleasure erupted in your body at the threat, and the sheer animalistic nature of his words only served to heighten your arousal. You found yourself whimpering in response. This motherfucker absolutely would paralyze you if it meant he got what he wanted! You tried to hold back your squirming, but the sensation was too much, and you couldn't help but thrust your hips upwards, seeking more of his tongue on your throbbing cunt.

"No!" Miguel snarled, his fangs grazing your thigh as he tried to keep you still. "I said stay fucking still!"

His warning sent a thrill of fear and excitement through you, and you found yourself moaning even louder. The mixture of pleasure and pain was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but press your hips against his face, begging for more.

"Miguel, please," you begged, your body straining to writhe against him. Miguel growled in response, his claws digging into your hips as he wrestled you into submission. His tongue continued its relentless assault on your cunt, and you felt your orgasm cresting, threatening to break free.

“Dios mio, you taste so good," Miguel purred, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. "I could do this all day."

As he spoke, you felt his fangs lightly graze your skin, warning you to stay still or risk being bitten. You'd die if he kept this up all day! The threat only served to excite you further, and you cried out as your orgasm finally crashed over you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Miguel moaned in satisfaction as he felt you come apart in his grasp. He lapped up your juices, savoring the taste, before finally releasing his grip on your hips and pulling away. His eyes were locked on yours, and you could see the lust and possession burning within them.

With a low growl, Miguel's suit began to retract, revealing his now weeping and erect cock. Seeing how big he was made your heart race and your breath catch in your throat. You felt slightly afraid, yet a part of you was intrigued by the sheer size of him.

Miguel pinned you down with a fierce look in his eyes, his claws digging into the floor on either side of your head. "Suck me off," he commanded, his voice a deep rumble that made you shiver.

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes darting between his fangs and his massive cock. But the desire to please Miguel and the danger of the chemical burning away within his veins overrode your fear. Slowly, you reached out your trembling hand and wrapped it around his thick shaft.

Miguel let out a low groan as you began to stroke him, his eyes never leaving yours. The sight of him, feral and wanting, sent a thrill through you and you found yourself growing more confident in your movements.

"Ahh, that's it," Miguel moaned, his hips thrusting forward into your eager grip. "Don't stop, changuita. Make me come."

You listened to his command, pumping your hand faster and tighter, using your other hand to rub his swollen head. Miguel's breathing became labored, and his claws dug deeper into the floor as he struggled to maintain control.

"Fuck, I'm close," he growled, his eyes rolling back in his head. "Keep going, don't stop!"

Encouraged by his reactions, you continued to stroke him, using your thumb to swirl around the sensitive underside of his cock. Miguel let out a strangled howl, his entire body tensing as he came, spurting his hot seed over your hand and onto the floor beneath you.

As his orgasm subsided, Miguel relaxed his grip on the floor, his breathing slow and ragged. But of course, it was only a few seconds later that his cock swelled back up into an erection. He cursed and threw his hand behind your neck, dragging your lips to his for a rabid kiss.

As Miguel's lips pressed against yours, you couldn't help but moan in response to the intoxicating taste of his blood mixed with your own. His tongue, hot and demanding, explored every inch of your mouth, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

Miguel broke the kiss, his eyes locked onto yours as he panted heavily. The aphrodisiac coursing through his system made his cock throb with such intense need, and he could barely control the urge to fuck you right there on the spot.

"I need more or I am going to tear you to pieces," You flinched slightly as his growled words. He was more than capable of that. Your eyes dropped to his throbbing cock, still straining and erect. What about your mouth? You were hesitant at first, but the way Miguel looked at you with such intense desire made it hard to refuse him. Besides, you had come here to help him, and if this was what he needed, then you were more than willing to oblige. It wasn't like you hadn't dreamed of what it would be like to suck your boss off.

That wasn't a normal thought. Nothing was normal about this, you reminded yourself.

With shaking hands, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. The taste of him was salty and musky, and you couldn't help but moan as you took more of him into your mouth. Miguel let out a low growl, his claws digging deeper into the floor as he thrust his hips forward.

You braced yourself against the floor, using your hands to steady yourself as Miguel began to fuck your mouth. His cock slid in and out of your lips, the rough texture of his skin rubbing against your tongue. You could feel the veins throbbing beneath the surface, and the sheer size of him made your jaw ache.

Miguel's breathing became ragged, and his hips moved faster, his cock plunging deeper into your throat. You gagged slightly, but he didn't seem to notice, his eyes locked onto yours as he continued to thrust. His next orgasm takes you by surprise and you almost choke on the seed pouring down your throat.

"No es suficiente, no es suficiente," he growled, his hunger for more apparent in his voice and actions. You could faintly pick up on what he was saying, but the look in his eyes was unmistakable—a raw, desperate need that left you breathless. What did you have to do to ease his discomfort? You pull back with a cough and wipe your smeared mouth with the back of your hand.

"Miguel, please," you rasped. "English. What do you need?"

His eyes bore into yours, dark and feral, as he gripped your hips tighter. "Everything," he hissed, his breath hot against your neck. "I want everything."

You blurt out your thoughts without fully thinking, "take it then." He was moving before you could blink.

Miguel was nothing but raw need and unabashed desire as he flipped you over onto your stomach and yanked your hips back towards him. His cock, still rock hard, teased your entrance, and you couldn’t help but gasp in anticipation as he positioned himself to enter you.

With a primal growl, Miguel thrust his hips forward, plunging his thick cock deep inside you. You cried out in both pain and pleasure as he stretched you beyond your limits, his claws raking down your back in a shower of sparks. The burning sensation was almost too much to bear, but the heat of his passion and the intensity of his need were intoxicating, and you found yourself wanting more.

Miguel pulled out slowly, only to slam back into you with brutal force, over and over again. His hips pounded against your ass, and each thrust sent shockwaves through your body. You could feel the warmth of his seed leaking from your pussy, mixing with the sweat that dripped down your skin.

As Miguel fucked you, he couldn’t resist the temptation to ravage your breasts. His sharp claws dug into your sensitive flesh, leaving a trail of red marks in their wake. You cried out in pleasure, your body arching towards his as you reveled in the mix of pain and pleasure. Your nipples, already hard from the exertion, tightened further under his rough touch, and you could feel the blood rushing to the surface, making the marks even more pronounced.

With each thrust, Miguel’s cock hit that perfect spot inside you, sending a thrill of pleasure through your entire body. You could feel your own orgasm building, the tension in your core coiling tighter with each passing moment. As Miguel’s pace quickened, you gasp and whine, batting an orgasm that was ripping its way out of your cunt. Violently.

Suddenly, Miguel’s grip on your hips tightened, and his thrusts became even more erratic and desperate. With a final, forceful push, he drove himself as deep inside you as possible, his cock pulsing with the force of his release. His hot seed filled you, and the sensation sent you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing over you in waves of intense pleasure.

Your thighs tremble and twitch while your hands and fingers claw at the floor of his office. You feel completely and utterly spent, your body limp and boneless as Miguel's softening cock slips from your aching cunt. His claws retract, leaving your tender flesh bruised and marked, but you can't help the satisfied smile that spreads across your face.

Miguel's heavy breathing echoes in the room as he collapses onto the floor next to you, his body still twitching from the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. You settle on your stomach and allow the cold floor to cool your flaming body. Perhaps now he was finally sated? Maybe Lyla had been wrong about her calculations? Miguel's eyes meet yours, his eyes full of a mixture of satisfaction and hunger, his fangs still peaking out from his lips. .

"Do you… feel better?" you pant hopefully, your voice barely above a whisper.

Miguel nods, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "A little, Cariño," he says, his voice rough and gravelly. "But we're not done yet."

Your heart skipped a beat as you feel his fingers trailing up the back of your leg, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. He leans in close, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispers, "I want more." A moan escaped you because were you not already spent? This was far more than you had ever experienced.

Miguel chuckles, his fingers circling your nipple and sending a jolt of desire through your body. "Don't fight," he murmurs. "Let me take care of you."

Weren't you supposed to be taking care of him?

You blink languidly for but a moment, wondering if your body could in fact, keep up with this stupid chemical, when his hands grip your aching body and you find yourself dragged on top of him. You are now perched on him, your cunt placed just perfectly over his cock which you can feel twitching and hardening. For fucks sake! Miguel's gaze was hungry, his fangs peeking out from his lips, and his claws still unsheathed.

"Ride me," Miguel commanded, his voice rough and gravelly. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your cunt positioned so perfectly that his thick cock prods at your entrance.

"You want me to what?" You questioned, your voice at a higher pitch than normal. No one had ever blatantly told you to ride them.

"Did I stutter?" He growled at you and you swallowed thickly, your fingers curling against his chest. His hands gripped your hips and he pulled you down onto his waiting cock, watching in satisfaction as your face contorted and your back arched. As he filled you once again, a moan escaped your lips as his girth stretched you wider than before.

Miguel groaned in pleasure, his hips bucking upwards to meet your downward motion. A yelp escaped your lips as his cock sank deep and you whimpered. Miguel's eyes focused on your fluttering ones, his gaze intense and hungry. "That's it, Cariño," he said, his voice a low growl. "Fuck me."

"Mi-Miguel," You sputter, fingers now making claw marks in the floor. "It's— it's too much."

Miguel's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you as you moved up and down on his cock. "You can take it," he encouraged, his voice filled with a mixture of desire and authority. "You were made for me."

Hesitantly, you began to rock your hips back and forth, your cunt sliding along his cock as you rode him with increasing intensity. The sensations were overwhelming, the feeling of him inside you so deep and intense that it almost bordered on pain. But the mixture of pleasure and pain was intoxicating, and you found yourself moving faster, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Miguel's grip on your hips tightened, and he pushed you down harder onto his cock, driving it even deeper inside you. You cried out in pleasure, your body straining to keep up with his relentless pace.

With each thrust, Miguel's cock hit that perfect spot inside you, sending a thrill of pleasure through your entire body. You could feel your own orgasm building, the tension in your core coiling tighter with each passing moment. As Miguel's pace quickened, you gasp and whine, battling an orgasm that was ripping its way out of your cunt.

Suddenly, Miguel's grip on your hips tightened, and his thrusts became even more erratic and desperate. With a final, forceful push, he drove himself as deep inside you as possible, his cock pulsing with the force of his release. His hot seed filled you, and the sensation sent you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing over you in waves of intense pleasure.

As you collapse against Miguel, your body boneless and sated, he runs his hands up and down your body while kissing your neck. His touch is gentle now, tender even, a stark contrast to the feral passion that had consumed him moments before. You can't help but sigh in contentment, your fingers curling into his chest as you enjoy the feeling of his lips on your skin. But this contenment doesn't last as nearly as long as you want it to.

With a primal growl, Miguel rises from the floor, his powerful arms easily lifting you with him. He strides across the room, his eyes never leaving yours, and clears his desk of papers and tablets in one swift motion. He placed you down, with your legs dangling off the end, and cages you with his arms.

As Miguel held you down on his desk, he towered over you with an animalistic hunger in his eyes. His massive, engorged cock throbbed against your inner thigh, and you could feel the heat emanating from it, a testament to his unbridled lust.

Jesus, how could he still be hard!?

Without warning, he gripped your hips and slammed his cock inside you, filling you with a force that made your entire body shudder and your back arch off his desk. Your eyes widened in shock, but before you could even process the sensation, he began to fuck you with a feral intensity that left you breathless.

His hips pounded into yours, each thrust driving his cock deeper and deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you that sent sparks of pleasure coursing through your body. You cried out, your fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulders as he continued to pound into you relentlessly.

Miguel's hands roamed over your body, his touch rough and demanding as he kneaded your breasts and pinched your nipples roughly. The mixture of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, and you found yourself arching your back, your hips bucking against his as you sought more of his brutal touch.

"You like that, changuita?" He growled, his eyes locked onto yours as he continued to fuck you with a primal intensity. "You want me to fuck you harder?" Your mind screamed yes as your voice remains silent. You could only manage a breathless nod, your entire body consumed by the sensations coursing through it. Miguel rewarded your response with a feral grin, his pace increasing as he pounded into you with even more force.

Beneath him, you writhed and moaned, your body responding to his every touch and thrust. Then your claws came out and you began raking them against his shoulder and desk, leaving grooves behind. As Miguel continued to pound into you, his eyes locked onto yours, a primal hunger consuming him. Without warning, he leaned forward, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of your neck.

The pain was searing, but it was quickly replaced by a surge of pleasure as Miguel's venom coursed through your veins. Your body went rigid, paralyzed, as the pleasure intensified, becoming almost unbearable. You could feel your orgasm building, the tension in your walls coiling tighter with each passing moment. But now you couldn't move, couldn't claw at him, couldn't pull him closer.

Miguel continued to thrust into you with an unyielding intensity, his teeth still embedded in your neck as his venom coursed through your veins. The pressure inside you built, the singular focus on the pleasure between your legs consuming your entire being.

Your walls clenched around Miguel's cock, desperate for release, and he seemed to sense your approaching climax. He pulled his teeth from your neck, a line of blood trickling down your skin, and leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

"Cum for me, changuita," he growled, his voice rife with desire. "Let go and show me how much you enjoy my cock inside you."

How did he expect that to happen with you paralzed!?

You could feel the pressure mounting inside you, your walls clenching around Miguel's cock as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. The paralysis caused by his venom made it impossible for you to move, but the intensity of the sensations coursing through your body left you unable to focus on anything else.

As Miguel continued to fuck you with relentless ferocity, you felt your orgasm approaching, like a storm on the horizon. The tension in your body coiled tighter and tighter, and you could feel your cunt throbbing around his thick cock.

Miguel seemed to sense your imminent climax, and he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, his voice low and hungry. "Cum for me, changuita," he growled, his words sending a shiver through your paralyzed body. "Let go and show me how much you enjoy my cock inside you."

His words were all it took to send you over the edge. With a muffled cry, your orgasm crashed over you, waves of pleasure so intense they bordered on pain. Your cunt clamped down on Miguel's cock, milking him for all he was worth as you rode out the storm of your release.

As your body shuddered through the aftermath of your orgasm, Miguel's own release came roaring up to meet him. With a guttural groan, he slammed his hips forward one last time, his cock throbbing inside you as he emptied himself into your warm, wet depths.

The haze of pleasure began to clear, you became aware of the tears dripping down your face. The mixture of pain and pleasure had been too much, the intensity of the experience overwhelming your senses. Not to mention you had just fucked your boss. You felt Miguel's lips on your cheek, gentle kisses that contrasted sharply with the roughness of his earlier touch.

"¿Estás bien?" He asked softly, his voice filled with concern. You manged to grunt out a sound that resembled a 'yes', but he isn't pleased with just a grunt. "Words, Cariño," He urged.

"I'm fine, Miguel, just paralyzed," You reassure him, your eyes moving his. Miguel lifted himself off you, his movements slow and careful, and you almost mourn his cock leaving your body. He then reached for a nearby towel to wipe the blood from your neck.

"I didn't mean to lose control," he says softly. "Your scent drives me crazy and that chemical pushed me over the edge."

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling as you try to process what had just happened. The room is filled with the scent of sex and violence, and your body still hums with the aftermath of your intense orgasm. Miguel's venom continued to course through your veins, leaving you paralyzed and vulnerable.

"Lyla said your heart rate was crashing," You whispered, your mind trying to understand why she had told you that. "I thought— I thought you were dying. That's why I came."

Miguel paused in wiping the blood from the places with claws had opened up, the wounds now healed. You can't figure out what is going on in his mind. You can see a decision form in his eyes and he leaned over and kissed your forehead. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

You managed a weak smile, your eyes locked on his. "It's okay, I heal fast," you replied to him. "I know you didn't mean it. And... pretty sure I sunk my claws into you as well."

Miguel chuckled softly, a warm, genuine laugh that made you feel even more at ease. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispered, "Te quiero, changuita."

As Miguel wraps you up in a warm blanket, your eyelids grow heavy with each passing moment. He gently scoops you up and places you on the couch, tucking the blanket around your body. Despite the intensity of the situation, you feel a sense of security in his presence.

"Rest here while the venom wears off," Miguel says softly, his hand resting on your forehead. His touch is surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the feral passion that had consumed him earlier.

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. "That chemical is out of your system, right?" you ask, your eyes half-lidded. Miguel's suit reactivates, the familiar blue glow enveloping his body as he nods in confirmation.

"Yes, it's gone," he said. "I'm going to have a word with Lyla outside since she took the effort to cut communications in here. I would tell you to stay here because we need to talk, but I don't think that will be nessessary." You wished you could have given his smirking face a scowl as he departed his office.

You are disturbed from deep sleep when you heard the grumbles of rapid spanish. Eyes cracking open, it takes you a few moments to realize that you aren't in Miguel's office but his personal bedroom at the Spider Society for when he needs to crash. Which is a lot.

You sit up in bed, the blanket falling away from your naked body, revealing your pristine healed skin. You don't bother to cover yourself. Your eyes locked on him as he paced back and forth across the room, muttering in Spanish about the potential consequences of your tryst.

"You act like there isn’t Plan B here," you said, your voice firm and resolute. You hadn't expected to be in this situation, but you were determined to take control of it. Miguel's pacing ceased abruptly, and he turned to face you, his expression a mix of surprise and relief.

"You're right," he said, running a hand through his dark hair. "I just... I wasn't thinking straight. The thought of..." His voice trailed off, but you knew what he was trying to say. The thought of potentially impregnating you had sent him into a tailspin.

"It's okay," you said softly, patting the space on the bed beside you. "Come sit with me, and we'll figure this out together." Miguel hesitated for a moment before joining you on the bed, his body stiff and tense as he sat with his back straight, his eyes fixed on a point on the wall.

"Miguel," you said gently, placing a hand on his arm. "Look at me." He turned to face you, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. "We'll be okay," you reassured him. "We'll find a solution, I promise."

Miguel nodded, the tension in his body easing slightly as he leaned in and rested his forehead against yours. "Gracias," he whispered. "For understanding."

"I'm not going anywhere," you said firmly. "And neither are you. We'll get through this together."

Miguel pulled back and smiled at you, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "Given our luck," he said softly, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek. "Somehow, we'll make it worse." You laugh at his words, because in reality, you will probably make things worse at some point.

"Probably," You agree before sobering up. "Miguel, what you said—" He stopped you from speaking further by placing his thumb on your lips.

"I've been torn for a while now," Miguel said, his voice raw with emotion. "I've always been focused on maintaining the canon, on keeping the timeline intact. But..." He paused, his eyes searching yours as if he's seeking reassurance. "But I can't deny my feelings any longer. I'm in love with you, but I couldn't act on it because I didn't want to jeopardize my responsibilities. I can't."

You feel a surge of affection for Miguel, knowing how much he's struggled with this dilemma. He was technically correct. "Miguel," you say softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "I understand. I know how important your duty is to you, and I admire your dedication to it. But..." You hesitate, unsure of how to express what you're feeling without sounding like you're pressuring him.

"But what?" Miguel asks, his eyes fixed on your face.

"But maybe there's a way to have both," you suggest tentatively. "I know it won't be easy, and we'll have to be discreet, but... I'm not exactly one who likes to mix pleasure with my work. I don't think it would be a problem."

Miguel nods, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're right," he says, squeezing your hand. "Besides, I've had a taste of you and I can't get you out of my mind now that I know what it feels like for you to be mine."

"Now that we've got that out of the way, we have another topic to discuss." You told him, thinking back to your precious suit which was now in tatters and currently not usable. "My suit."

Confusion flashed across his face for a moment before he remembered. "Shit, I'm sorry about that," he said, running a hand through his hair sheepishly. "I wasn't in my right mind, and I... I just wanted to get to you."

You raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, well, you did a number on my suit," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's completely ruined."

Miguel's expression turned guilty. "I know, and I'm sorry," he said with a heavy sigh. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'll make you an even better one."

"With what?" You scoffed, looking around the small room. "Your sewing machine?"

Miguel chuckled, shaking his head. "No, with my technology," he clarified. "I can improve it, make it even more advanced than before."

Your interest was piqued, despite your annoyance at the destruction of your suit. "Really? How so?"

Miguel stood up and moved to a small workbench tucked in a corner of the room. He retrieved a small device and brought it back to you. "With this," he said, handing you a tablet. "I can easily draft up a new suit for you and have it made by the end of the day."

You took the tablet from him, examining it with curiosity. "So, what are we talking about here? Better web-shooters? More advanced sensors? Built-in air conditioning? Snack dispenser?"

Miguel grinned, clearly excited about the prospect of working on a suit for you. Yet another claim to your body. He can't help but give the naked skin he could see another look off appreciation. "All of that and more," he assured you before smirking. "I'll add Lyla, no extra charge."

Date Published: 5/25/24

Last Edit: 5/25/24

Previous | Masterlist

[cat-astro-pick]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝟎𝟒

𝑀𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝐸𝑧𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝟎𝟎

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝟎𝟏

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝟎𝟐

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝟎𝟑

"Why are you so dismissive?"

"Of what?"

"...Of me."

"I've been busy working on new stuff. Well, cause it's a new genre I'm trying out and I-."

"You know, you're a big talker when you lie."

I'd never heard his voice so low. In fact, I'd never thought of him as capable of such an intimidating voice in the first place. I'd always assumed Ezreal's vocal cords would only produce beautiful voices, but…apparently not.

I sucked in a breath, not wanting to sound pathetic. I let it out slowly, not wanting it to look like a sigh, and Ezreal's eyebrows twitched. It's always like this. He caught the part I didn't want to be caught, too fast, and then he comforted me. Comfort that I didn't ask for. If it were simply hypocrisy, it wouldn't bother me so much. The reason I'm bothered, yes, is because Ezreal is such an innocent, nice guy ever. I've never seen him this mad before. Not recently, not even before. The anger he was feeling today was purely my fault, and I couldn't be grumpy or irritable with him. Guilt pierced through my heart like a sledgehammer. Even the act of putting my hands in my pockets felt unnatural because I knew better than anyone else that, it was my fault. If it were dramatic, this is where I should have dropped to my knees, but an unknown emotion squeezed the words out of my mouth. It molded the words, forcing them out of my throat.

"...What if I tell you now that I don't remember?"

"What?"

A series of brief memories haunt me. When they started, I don't know. A tone of frustration, denser than embarrassment and irritation, pierces my ears. I hid under the shadows created by cap like a frightened kitten. I was the one who spoke the unforgivable words, and I was the one who ran away in fear. Yeah, I'm that kind of human being, that's what I'm made of. I was unreasonably frightened, but I'm sure Ezreal didn't mean to scare me. If he wanted me to be scared and beg for forgiveness, he wouldn't have made that stupid face. I did something wrong, I deserved to be reprimanded, but it was Ezreal who was acting like a sinner. Simply because I, scared him.

"I don't remember. I don't even know what I said to you."

"..."

"If you want me to be a little more brazen, I don't understand why you've been obsessing over what I said for days, when I was probably drunk and out of it anyway."

"...Enough."

Hell is a fitting place for me to end up. It's better to throw yourself down the stairs to the other side without thinking twice about the ambiguity of heaven or hell, and it's the same with relationships. Even in this one-sided love relationship, I can't be honest anymore. That I crave more than attention from you, that those are the real, deep feelings we've been screaming about since we were kids, and that those simple four-letter words keep hurting me. So, prove it to me. Cause when I realize you don't care about me in the slightest, I'm going to want to die. Prove to me how you feel about me, how far you'll take my immature rants, and if you even care about me. If you don't, then we're done.

My brain felt like it was in two pieces. Egos fighting. I am pushing myself and pushing Ezreal at the same time, to the point where there is no consensus. If someone asks me where and how our relationship went wrong, I don't know what to say. I can't even remember when I started falling for him.

"What the hell did I say to you that made you so mad that Kayn is talking shit to me? Nah, I don't understand why you're mad in the first place!"

No, he's not even angry, he's just hurt. This is not even in my mind.

"What did you come all the way to the studio for? What did you say to them?"

He used to come by often, just like I used to. She probably didn't say anything, because I'd embarrass her.

"'You're-'"

"I said enough!"

The sharp voice cut between us, but nothing else existed but silence. I wish he'd slap me, but when I glance down, all I see is a tightly clenched fist. I know he's not the kind of man to swing a fist. And it's not that I'm a masochist who's desperate to hit him, it's just that his knuckles are so pitifully red and white from clenching so hard.

"..."

He's crying. His eyes, which should be sparkling and shining under the spotlight on the stage, are wet with tears, not starry lights. In the end, it was me who was stupid from start to finish. I prided myself on being able to read other people's moods with ease, but this time, I missed it. I couldn't tell if the heavens were punishing me for my arrogance, or if I was just as dumb as a moth to a flame when it came to Ezreal. In the first place, Ezreal's emotion wasn't anger. It was frustration, fear, and finally impatience. He's not the kind of person to cry tears of anger.

I wonder why I didn't realize that.

“Ez…”

" Do I really make you miserable?"

"...What?"

"You said I'm the reason you're tired to death every day."

"...What are you talking about..."

A cold sweat trickled down my spine. I'd assumed the worst, but there was worse waiting for me than I'd ever imagined. Ezreal couldn't have been thinking this on his own. He's not that pessimistic.

"If you really think I'm to blame for your misfortune."

No. It's not like that. I tried to say something, but the words were stuck in my throat and felt like they were being strangled. I felt like I was slowly suffocating. Like sand being sucked out of the middle of a desert, I was slowly being eaten away.

"Then it would be more helpful if I left you."

His loosely tied hair whipped in the wind. I stare at the distant, distant back of his head, and it feels like the end of the world. It was only after my already weary hand gripped his arm that I realized that tears from the bitter wind were wetting my cheeks. I was a sinner, and I shed many tears for nought. I became impatient. And soon I felt tempted to scream, frustrating. It seemed to me that despair had taken hold of me to the end and would not let go. Many days and nights passed, many of which were ordinary days where I didn't care what happened. And, yes, honestly, I wanted to tell myself that Ezreal was making my life miserable, even though I knew it wasn't him that was making me miserable, it was my feelings for him.

"I'm not miserable because of you."

A sense of unreality envelops my toes. It wasn't the coziness of a lazy daydream. Each delicate feature of his face in my vision crumbled into shards. The shards ran down my cheeks, dangling precariously from the tip of my chin, before falling to the floor and becoming jewelry for ants.

"I mistook you for misfortune, because I... have a crush on you."

Yes, this is penance. And, confession.

.

.

.

[disventure-rewrite-takes]

okay, I just finished watching the finale, so here are all my thoughts plus little rewrites. also Trevor is officially transfem in my brain so she's Tatyana now, idk I don't make the rules.

Tomjake: I dunno I still don't like the ship nearly as much as I did when i first watched dvsc, I think it's got far too much screen time and precedence over the series. but it does make sense for their spinoff, and honestly, their closing arc wasn't terrible. as always, found it overly rushed, but with the emotions I guess it could make sense...idk if anything I'd just slowburn that shit. make it worth watching!!

Tom (Himself): I'm sorry but when the hell did he get WATERBOARDED? this show I swear to god...that isn't slapstick comedy ONC 😭💀 that's some serious shit why hasn't it come up at ALL?! like come on!! I would give Tom some discomfort around water, and at least a small discussion about it, ffs

Ally: idk if this is a rewrite but "you can have your yaoi moment later" is on par with "thank you I'm going there" and I love it. she needs more one liners

Gabellie: RAAAAHHH let's go lesbians!! sad Gabby got bit by the tiger but the screen time they get is everything to me, they needed more of this and I would so add that if I could

Tatyana and Emily: as always I love her, she's so silly to me and very dear to my heart. I love that she's still kind to Emily but also calls her out on her shit. kinda building on what I've talked about with Emily but I'd love to have Tatyana be her voice of reason when she's living in this revenge and rage filled part of her mind. in a rewrite I think I would definitely have Tatyana talk Emily down before the scorpions so she isn't hurt, and Tatyana quits, Emily doesn't go to prison, Emilyana is endgame and I'm happy <3

Riya: not pleased she won, I doubt most people are. but unfortunately it's probably the most satisfying end to her arc. I like that even Krystal isn't happy with her winning, and Connor finally is done with her. the only thing I'd change is that Eesha doesn't call her, so she really has no one except her fame.

Alec and Fiore: AAAAA I love them so much, Fiore caring about him, Alec finally adopting her, the bus scene and him carrying her, this is literally my lifeblood and my soul rn. I wouldn't change a damn thing, it's amazing <333

Krystal/Other Staff: I love the way her arc ends with deciding to change the way she's gonna do things, quitting DSVC and letting in new hosts. another very satisfying end for me honestly. if I had anything to nitpick, for the scene on the plane, I'd put her in the dress she's wearing in the S2 finale, just because it's pretty and I think it helps her come full circle as a character, plus it suits the trip to Cancun!

The End Photos: I also love that, love seeing Lill and Nick a bit, all the cute little end story pieces for the characters. I'd just add more honestly, I love the idea!!

y'all should see the notes I took while watching this finale honestly, I was going feral– I kept screeching and talking out loud 💀

- 🎃

love all your thoughts pumpkin anon, emilyana is real to us and we all love fiore and alec. also ur not alone in screeching and talking to yourself cuz i genuinely had to repress a scream at all those fiore & alec scenes. i love you grumpy middle aged man adopting a quirky little girl trope

[sunghoonnsupremacy]

#LOVETALK! - warnings: cuss words, slapping.

001. - 002.

my legs felt wobbly as if they were about to break into tiny pieces resembling porcelain, feeling his stare on my figure. walking over to my friendgroups lunch table, I try to keep my focus away from the cat shaped eyes that are boring into my soul.

"soomin-ah, are you okay? " my friend karina asks with a worry filled look on her face. I nod with a smile and sit down next to her, preparing to eat my food. my other friends, keeho and aeri quickly wave my direction as they continue to munch on their lunch.

a sigh escapes my mouth when I feel my stomach grumble at the lack of food. I grab my chopsticks and eat some gimbap, trying to eat as much as i could before the bell would announce more pain and suffering.

when all of a sudden, a silence falls upon the table without me noticing.

my thigh shivers under the cold touch of somebodys hand, while sensing a presence sitting down next to me.

"hey soomin. " his voice basically in need of an emotion. multiple (3) pairs of eyes fall on us when i turn to look at him with a shaky smile.

"hello jungwon. " I look into his eyes with a look of confusion. "are you still coming over? " his voice rearranging the mechanism in my brain.

when I accidentally take too long to reply, karina nudges my arm from beside me, knocking me back into my senses.

a fast nod moves my head, his smile appearing once again and squeezing my thigh. "good." and with that he stands up and walks out of the canteen.

"what was that? " keeho loudly asks me. I struggle to reply while thinking of a excuse. "we have a project due next week together so we agreed on meeting up at his place today. "

"yeah? what class? " keeho asks with narrowed eyes. "literature." if only they heard the lies on the tip of my tongue. aeri nods uncertainly and goes back to eating. a sigh escapes my mouth, doing the same.

"anyway, I heard there was a party happening soon at the frat house. you know the one where sunghoon is in. " karina announces with a giddy smile and claps her hands at the mention of another party.

we all laugh at her enthusiasm, karina pouting in frustration. "hey whats so funny? " she crosses her arms over her chest and grumbles.

"nothing rina, you're just an alcoholic. " aeri giggles, still finding it funny.

"do you know the date? " I speak up, wanting to hear more about the booze filled event. karina checks her phone and scrunches her eyebrows, replying with a "in two days i suppose. thats friday. "

shit. Im supposed to be at jungwons day that aswell. how do i cover that up? isn't he friends with sunghoon? would he let me go? I let out a frustrated noise as they all look at me, weirded out.

"you can't come? " keeho asks with a frown. I sigh once again and rest my head on my palms. "I can't, my parents invited me over for dinner and to stay the night. " another perfect lie being said by me today.

"oh come on im sure you can convince them to let you go out. you're 18 already. have some fun once in a while! " karina giggles and puts her hands in a prayer motion. a bunch of please's come out of my friends mouths as I laugh at their desperation and nod.

"okay okay ill ask them. ill let you guys know later! " I shoot them a quick smile and finish my food, almost perfectly timed with the bell ringing.

all four of us let out a groan at the sound, knowing that we have to spend another hour or two in this shit hole before getting to go home and into their comfortable bed (them atleast).

we say our goodbyes, hence our classes being in different parts of the school building. I quickly run over to my biology class, not wanting to piss off my grumpy teacher even more.

sitting down in my seat, I turn around to greet nicholas, a former neighbor of mine. "hi nicholas! how are you today? " a sweet smile sits on my face while I wait for his response.

he smiles back warmly and answers, "hey. im good, how are you, pretty? " he shoots me one of his signature winks, resulting in me giggling at his bad flirting attempt.

a glare settles on his face when he notices me laughing at him instead of falling for him. "one day I'll get you to take me seriously. " he rolls his eyes and leans back into his chair.

" yeah sure, mr. lover" I sign quotation marks, mimicking what he calls himself both offline and online which I find quite embarrassing might I say, hence him not pulling one girl ever.

he groans and kicks my chair. "you just don't get the love I send out. " he sighs, flipping his hair like a disney princess. I snort at this, knowing the only love he ever shows to anybody is his sock.

before we get to chat more, the teacher hurries into the class, apologising for his late arrival leaving me quite suprised since I've never seen the dude own up to his mistakes before and I've been in this class for a year now.

biology goes on smoothly, me answering a couple questions because im petty and like to beat nicholas in everything.

after class ends, we basically run out of the classroom in happiness that the day is over. nicholas throws his hand over my shoulder and walks me towards the school entrance.

I sigh, knowing I have to head to jungwons house instead of mine, otherwise it wouldn't end no where near well.

I give him a quick hug and say my goodbyes, trying to please jungwon by being on time.

after leaving a couple knocks on his door, his tall figure emerges from the wooden frame and pulls me in by hand, leaving me a bit stunned at his very forward action.

"jungwon what are you-" not even giving me the chance to reply, he locks the door and slams me onto the ground. I wince, since I was wearing a skirt and the cold wooden floors didn't do much help on the impact when I hit them.

"what were you doing with nicholas? huh? " he slowly walks over to me, glaring at me with cold eyes, something very different than seen from his at-school persona.

I try to think of a reply but his glare stops me from doing so. he bends down to my level and harshly grabs my chin with his slender fingers.

"answer me you bitch. you know I hate being ignored." his words are a slap onto my face as his fingers dig deeper into my flesh.

"nothing I was just saying bye to him. there's no need to get worked up. " I grumble, not meeting his eyes before realising I could've and most definitely should've worded that differently.

"don't speak to me with attitude, or we're gonna have a problem. " he lets go of my face and quickly pulls me up and slams me against the wall.

what is with this dude and causing me temporary back pain?

I nod and look back into his eyes, searching for some sort of emotion. "I'm sorry. " a quiet, whimper like sentence leaves my mouth, not wanting him to increase the ache in my body even more.

he rolls his eyes at my weak attempt to apologise , but lets me go. "don't pull that shit again, soomin. " he walks away into his (most assumed) living room and leaves me in the hallway.

"you can leave now. " he shouts at me from the living room, letting me go. I take the chance and get the hell out of there before he got even more angry.

how long has it been like this, you may ask? for about a month now. it started from cute smiles to creepy notes in my locker, leading up to this mess.

I've tried to escape his hold many times but it led to failed attempts. now I just learn to endure it.

arriving at my house, I plop down onto my bed, falling into a deep sleep. let's hope tomorrow won't be as tiresome as today was.

[shoyoist]

HIHIII <33 HRUUUU i’m back again, god these assignments r so tiring, BUT ANYWHO! did u see the new blue lock episode w shidou?? lately i’ve been thinking of him being a papa as well.. how would he be like? :00

— 🫖

hello darling<33 i hope you're taking care of yourself while working on those assignments! and omg no i haven't seen the episode yet i'm so behind on blue lock now after i picked up one piece and got obsessed with it 😭 but i have seen screenshots and oh my godd he is soo hot he makes me so feel all hot nervy<333

shidou is so competitive as a papa he's so ridiculous about it! you both would have a baby girl, and he's always turning everything into a contest. says things like “oh she likes it better when i feed her” “she likes the songs i sing more than yours” “hey hey tucking her in is MY job!!” then he'll get grumpy when she wakes up crying in the middle of the night. “see? you didn't give the lil thing enough fuckin' kisses when you should've, and now she's waking up the entire neighborhood.”

like. okay then 🙄 it makes him a very good papa tho<3

shidou also loooves carrying his little baby girl around. it's a comfort to him when his sweet lil child is safely in his arms, though he'll never admit that. whenever he's at home he's got his baby in his arms, and he talks to her like she's his best friend. like she understands everything he says.

and he doesn't hold back he'll cuss and shit talk and just tell her whatever's on his mind 💀 “today was fuckin’ awful, princess.” is the first thing he says when he walks into the house, and you think he's talking to you and you open your mouth to ask him what's wrong, only for him to walk past you and head to your daughter that's sitting in her feeding chair, waiting for you to fix her formula.

he unbuckles her and picks her up, carrying her upstairs to the bedroom with him while still talking to her like “can you believe what they did to daddy? daddy had a little fall, alright? tripped and fell cause his stupid damn teammates don't fuckin’ move outta the way. and the coach benched me! somethin’ about my leg — which is fine, as you can see — needing a break or whatnot. fuckin’ stupid. brain-dead fucking coach. can you believe it?”

and your baby's laughing, hopefully not picking up any of his foul language, slapping his shoulder and he just laughs along and thanks her for “getting the right idea” or whatever it's so hilarious and you shouldn't be condoning it but it's just too cute 😭

[girlboypersonthingy]

I'm not sure if you only do x readers but if you do ships could you please do headcanons for klance when keith is away at the blade of marmora?

feel free to ignore it if you don't like klance or don't do ships that's completely fine :)

I love your writing btw!

OMGGGG THANK U SM UR SO NICE 😘 AND YES KLANCE OWNS MY WHOLE ENTIRE HEART. I’ll do pretty much any ship as long as the characters aren’t far apart in age. Ah little space boyfriends 😩 ENJOY~

Klance- When Keith is way with the blade of marmora

First of all, Lance is sooooo annoying when Keith is away. Bro will not shut up about his super hot grumpy emo boyfriend. Keith’s name leaves Lance’s mouth at least 199 times a day, if not more.

Second of all, Keith is the complete opposite. He gets really really quiet, more quiet than he normally is. He doesn’t mention Lance at all but his name never leaves Keith’s mind. He only really gets talkative around Lance so without him, Keith doesn’t talk unless he has to.

THEY TOTALLY SWAP JACKETS BEFORE KEITH LEAVES EVERY TIME!!! Keith has literally turned around and come back to the castle just to get Lance’s comfy green jacket. Keith likes Lance’s jacket bc it smells good and actually keeps him really warm. Lance likes Keith’s jacket bc it’s small and scuffed up and worn but he prefers to hold Keith’s jacket close to him rather than actually wear it all the time. He’ll just walk around the castle with the red jacket thrown over his shoulder or clutched tightly in his arms.

When Keith is only gone for a couple days, Lance gets sooooo excited when he returns to the castle. He goes running through the halls with red cheeks and the biggest grin to meet Keith in the hangar when he arrives.

“KEEF!!!” “I told you to stop calling me that.” “I missed you! Did you miss me? Oh my quiznak, you totally missed it! Pidge caught a piece of equipment on fire yesterday. It was so crazy and-“ Cue Lance talking Keith’s ear off while he just smiles and nods along.

If Keith is gone for longer than like a week, bruh it’s so dramatic when they finally reunite. Just picture a teary-eyed Keith on his knees, still in his blade suit, clutching a happy crying lance in his arms. They just miss each other sooooooo much.

The whole team is like 🥹🥹🥹

Pidge specifically is like “I’m not crying, you are…”

Pretty much every time Keith is traveling back to the castle, he’s exhausted. There’s a lot of pressure on him, a lot of weight on his shoulders right now. He’s always on high alert, super tense and barely getting sleep. BUT when he finally sees Lance again and hears his voice and feels his embrace, he gets a sudden rush of energy. Now he wants to pull another all nighter just to catch up and spend time with his bf.

Oddly enough, Lance spends a lot of his time in the training room when Keith is gone. No one’s really sure why but Shiro thinks is bc Keith is always training and so being in that room makes Lance miss him less, ya know? Pidge is like 99% sure it’s bc he wants to actually practice so he can impress Keith with a super cool new move he learned when he gets back. Pidge is correct

If Keith has any down time while he’s away, he likes to just daydream. There’s not much else he can do so he stares off into the distance and gets lost in thoughts about his tall dreamy boyfriend and the last time they made out and how he can’t wait to feel his thin arms around him again and how he misses the smell of his nightly face masks and the sound of his voice and the texture of his hair and the freckles on his tan face. I could go on for days.

The second Keith leaves, Lance begins planning 😈 He racks his brain with cute date idea and nice things he can get/make for his bae. Every time Keith returns, after the initial hugging and kissing and excited smiles and small talk, Lance is giving Keith something nice or trying to take him out for a space picnic or some sappy shit like that.

Pretty much every time a date is planned, it never happens. Keith first complains that he’s too tired to go anywhere and then convinces Lance to makeout cuddle with him in bed instead.

But Keith does get really flattered and smiley and red when Lance gives him a pretty rock he found on a planet close by or a stuffed animal from the space mall or something like that. He just feels so special and he thinks Lance is just way too cute and pure for this world. He’s like ‘aww he was thinking about me’.

While Lance runs his mouth all day about missing Keith and anticipating his return, the night time is different. Lance cuddles Keith’s jacket or pillow in bed and lays awake for a while wondering exactly what he’s up to at this very moment. Is Keith thinking about him right now too? Is he safe? When will be be back? Poor baby boy is stressed about the love of his life.

Lance often has nightmares when Keith isn’t in bed beside him. It’s almost the same bad dream every time, just slightly different. It’s always Keith is on a mission with the blade and ends up hurt or lost or…worse. And Lance wakes up in a cold sweat every time. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if Keith never came back to him.

Keith will never mention it to anyone ever but he has bad dreams when he’s away from Lance too. He often dreams that he returns to the castle to find the whole team gone, Shiro Lance Pidge, everyone. It scares the hell out of him, he loses sleep over it a lot.

That’s why they’re so intense when they reunite after a long time away from each other. The longer they are apart, the more they both worry about the other and the more these terrifying dreams occur. So when they finally see each other again after like a two month mission, they’re so overwhelmed with happiness and relief that they are both brought to tears.

When they finally sleep beside each other again, OH MY GOD THEY BOTH SLEEP SO GOOD. They feel so comfy and content and safe.

Keith snores pretty much every night but when he comes back after a long mission and finally gets to fall asleep next to the love of his life, his snoring can be heard from Earth probably. He’s just finally relaxed enough to get some good sleep again, he can’t help it. Lance thinks it’s cute and he knows it’s bc his poor baby is sleep deprived.

Long story short, these two are so deeply and madly in love. I don’t think two people have ever been this in love before. Throughout this entire space war, the thought of each other is what really keeps them both going. They’re fighting for the safety of the universe…but they are each other’s universe 💙❤️💙❤️

[pedropascalsx]

Respite. {Joel Miller x F! Reader}

Summary: You put yourself in danger whilst trying to prove yourself.

Word count: 2000+.

Warnings: Murder, mention of kidnapping, mentions of forced reproduction, angst, yearning, grumpy! joel, p in v sex, unprotected sex, fingering.

A/N: i don’t even know myself. it’s just a bunch of words.

Thank you to my sweet, @write-and-buried - who allowed me to pick her incredible brain and helped with some parts i was struggling with. i love you to pieces.

The threadbare sheets are scratchy on your bare skin. The filthy mattress beneath the sheets is so bobbled and the springs are uneven. It’s not the worst thing you’ve slept on this week you think to yourself as you attempt to find a more comfortable spot to curl up in.

He’s mad at you. He has every right to be mad at you. You screwed up, you tried to prove yourself capable and it backfired on you. The aches that ravishes his bones at the best of times had intensified and you’re to blame.

*

‘You don’t go anywhere without it,’ he had warned you time and time again. But you let your arrogance win. You decided you could sneak out of the QZ undetected and scope out a store that was a few miles west. And as you were getting your things together you realized that your gun was still stored away with his. You had no way of getting it without disturbing him, so you packed your knife and decided that would suffice. It would not.

The route was quiet and you managed to get to the store undetected. As you expected the shelves were bare, all essential items ransacked and long gone. But a few items remained, nothing of real value but things that would maybe bulk up a potential trade. You shoved them into your backpack with a sense of pride. They were yours. You had put the work in and retrieved them by yourself and that was worthy of a pat on the back, even if you were the one doing the patting.

You zipped up your backpack, ignoring the prickle of unease you felt as you did so and started to make your way back down the path, side stepping rusty coins and avoiding the cracks in the cement.

You increased your pace with a slight skip as the harsh sun beamed on your skin and that’s when you heard the hushed whispers from somewhere behind you.

‘Fuck,’ you mouthed as you increased your pace a little more. You had tried to remain calm, tried to act as though you weren’t aware of the fact you weren’t alone, but they had you surrounded.

“Don’t try to run,” a harsh voice had called out to you, “Don’t try anything stupid.”

Your feet failed you. Despite everything inside of you telling you to run, they became deadweight underneath you and anchored you to that very spot.

There were four of them. Four men. All of whom could easily overpower you without breaking a sweat.

“She’s perfect,” one of them said, his voice filled with a sickly sweet glee that made your stomach turn, “What do you think we’d get for her?”

Traffickers. Joel had warned you about this. Men were being promised large quantities of hard to come by contraband in exchange for young women that could reproduce.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you tried to work out how to approach this. For a second you considered attempting to reason with them or offer up what was in your backpack. But you knew that nothing you had would even begin to measure up what they were being promised by god knows who.

The words they were speaking at you were muffled, your brain had gone into hyperdrive and panic was flooding your entire body.

You didn't realise it was in your hand until it was sinking into his neck.

Didn't notice its weight missing from your pocket, the curl of your fingers around the handle, the way it moulded itself into your palm.

Their words were muffled, fuzzy, Joel's voice echoing in your head. ‘You don't go anywhere without it.’ The reason why became clear when you felt the first warm gush of blood over your fingers.

“Shit,” you mumbled as you took an unsteady step backwards, the knife still lodged in his throat as he sank down to his knees in front of you. What happened over the next few minutes is still hazy in your memory. You remember feeling hot breath coating the back of your neck as one of the men spat words laced with venom and threats from behind you.

You lunged forward and grabbed the knife, yanking it free from his neck. You had to act immediately. The three of them were weary of you, they had seen what you were clearly capable of doing but they knew they outnumbered and outpowered you. They had weapons of their own, weapons that they had all since drawn and were ready to use on you. But for them to cash in on you, they needed you alive.

“We don’t wanna hurt you,” the person behind you spat, “Even though you killed our friend.”

The other two agreed and started to inch towards you. You were within reach of the guy behind you and knew that it would be game over if he grabbed you. So you spun on your heel, waving the knife in your hand around and managing to slash the front of his chest. The knife he was holding fell to the ground with a loud clang and you both lunged towards it. You had managed to get to it first, by a mere fraction of a second.

You sunk it into his chest. Straight through the heart. Joel had told you where to strike and if he was here he would have said you struck gold. Two down. Two to go.

‘She’s fucking insane,” the smaller of the remaining two yelled at the other. He didn’t listen though. He snarled at you before baring his teeth. “We can find someone else.”

“No,” he barked back, still focused on you. His eyes flickered up and down your shuddering body a few times before he reached into his pocket and started to pull out a pistol he had kept concealed. “She’s going to come with us or I’m going to bury a bullet in that pretty little head of hers.”

He fell harder than the other two. The sound of his body slamming against the ground seemed to be 10x louder than the bodies of friends. Maybe it was the distance. Or maybe it’s because the bullet had entered his head in such a way that he didn’t stand a chance of surviving it, there would be no hands flying out to try and steady the way he fell. It was just dead weight falling.

Another shot rang out as you turned to face the person who had saved your life. His face was contorted with anger, his chest heaved up and down as the final *thud* hit your ears.

“I knew pickin’ you up was a goddamn mistake,” Joel spat across at you. “Let’s fucking go.”

After a few miles of silence, you had attempted to speak but he wasn’t having it. “How did you fi—.”

“Don’t fucking speak,” he gritted out from behind you, “I don’t want to hear your fucking voice.”

*

You let your fingertips run across the sheet as you played back the events of the day in your head. Would he ever forgive you? Would he kick your ass out and leave you to fend for yourself? How long would he give you the silent treatment for. You’d rather he yelled.

And then the mattress dipped beneath you and two familiar hands pulled you closer. “You fucked up today, girl.” He grits out in your ear before he starts to bite down on your earlobe. “Why’d you do it, huh? What are you trying to prove?”

“That I belong here,” you whisper back to him as his hands roughly squeeze your bare breasts, “That I’m capable.”

“Capable of what?” he growls, “Making a mess? Causing me unnecessary stress?”

“Just capable,” you mumble back.

“You can’t do that shit again,” he warns as he turns you to face him, “I’m not running after you again.”

You open your mouth to speak but before you can, his lips capture yours and he pulls you in for a bruising kiss. You were ready for him, stripped bare and waiting. You didn’t expect him to pay you a visit but you hoped that he would.

“You don’t deserve any of this,” he says with a slight shake of his head before snaking his hand before you both and letting two of his fingers rest on your clit. “I should just bend you over and take what I need from you and leave.”

He rests his forehead against yours and slowly starts to circle your clit, keeping the pace nice and light as your gentle moans start to fill the cold dark room. “One on my fingers and then on my cock,” he says as he starts to increase the speed of his fingers. Listening out for the quiet way you start to moan his name in a soft chant as you come undone.

It’s been a few months since the first time he fucked you, the very first time was during a particularly cold evening and you just sort of gravitated towards each other and then it just became an unspoken routine. He had gotten to know your body pretty well since.

“Joel,” you gasp as you start to reach your peak, his talented fingers pulling you towards something heavenly with little effort. It doesn’t take much longer before you’re convulsing with pleasure, your hips rocking against his hand as you continue to crave his touch throughout your high.

The second you’re done and gently pushing his hand away, he brings his fingers up to his lips and pushes them into his mouth. His eyes squeezing shut as he tastes you off them.

“Joel, please,” you plead as he groans around his fingers. Sucking them clear of every trace of your arousal.

He shifts you until you're lying completely flat, pushing one of the shitty pillows you had been snuggled up to under your hips, and then unbuckling his belt and shoving his jeans down his legs. His cock immediately springing free due to his lack of underwear, he strokes it slowly a few times before lining himself up to your entrance.

He gathers some of your slick with his free hand and coats his cock with it, before pushing himself in in one quick thrust. “You could have been killed,” he groans as he starts to move in and out. Every drag of his cock has you seeing stars as you clench down around him.

You choke out an apology as he starts hitting that spot inside of you, and he just tuts, “Prove you’re sorry by not trying this shit again,” he says gruffly before slapping his palm across your tit. “If I left just a few minutes later,” he snarls and shakes his head, unable to complete the sentence, “Don’t try that shit again.”

He grits out something incoherent from behind his teeth as he pounds relentlessly into you. Every slap of his hips stealing your breath as you start to come undone underneath him. You feel his hips stutter as your pussy grips his cock, your walls fluttering around him as moans spill endlessly from your mouth. “Good girl,” he grunts as you come around him with a scream of his name.

He pulls out of you and starts to furiously pump his cock, groaning your name as thick ropes of his cum start to coat your swollen clit and drip down your puffy folds. He watches for a few moments. Biting down on his bottom lip as it covers your soft skin.

After a few moments he gently pulls the pillow from beneath your hips and places it under your head, before sliding himself next to you. Allowing himself to hold you for just a few minutes before he’ll force himself away from you.

And then he’ll let himself wonder why he was so upset with you before shaking his head and pushing away those feelings.

Compartmentalizing them and telling himself that you’re just respite to him. Nothing more. Nothing less.

And maybe the next time he’ll tell himself that, he’ll start to believe it himself.

[babydin]

- Joel Miller X AFAB partner - 18+, minors DNI! - Joel's POV. - Child death implied, depressive thoughts of a middle aged grump, no smut just fluff, but implies that it leads there so consume at your own risk. - 627 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! - Joel doesn't want to celebrate his birthday, until the thought of unwrapping you changes his mind. - A/N: Wrote this to celebrate Joel's birthday. Happy birthday you piece of shit. I love writing in Joel's POV, so I would love more requests for this. Or even Javi G as a challenge!

Now, I was minding my very own business and I was going to continue to do so until the day was well and truly over but the promise of pancakes did put me in quite a predicament.

The sound cuts through me like a knife. Having one good ear meant the sounds I fucking hate are even harsher and make my brain itchy. It must be the ass-crack of dawn and she always fucking does this. She knows I don’t like making a big song-and-dance on my birthday, my birthday was the day the outbreak reached critical mass and here we are still fighting off shit-faced zombie motherfuckers and trying to rebuild civilization, not knowing if life will ever be the same again. It’s also Sarah’s remembrance day. I’d give all of my birthdays to have her back just for an hour.   And yet here she is, with one of those noise blowers that I swear I throw out every goddamn year, and a scratchy vinyl of the Beatles singing about how it’s my birthday, and I take one pillow and launch it at her while the other comes up over my head and I hope if I stay there long enough she’ll get the hint that I ain’t playing. “Happy birthday, Mr Miller.” Is it? What’s happy about it? The world is in ruins, and I’m another year older and it’s completely against my will at this point. “I made you blueberry pancakes.” Now, I was minding my very own business and I was going to continue to do so until the day was well and truly over but the promise of pancakes did put me in quite a predicament. I hated my birthday, I hated the fuss, I hated getting older, I hated missing Sarah, unfortunately for me though, I liked blueberry pancakes. I liked blueberry pancakes quite a lot.  I force my eyes open and she’s smilin’ down at me with that goddamn noise maker in one hand and a plate of blueberry pancakes in the other, dripping with maple syrup, her hair scraped back into a messy bun, her pyjamas all askew but I’ll be a son of a gun if she ain’t worth livin’ for. “You turn that shit off?” The Beatles aren’t bad, I just don’t want Paul McCartney squawkin’ at me and reminding me every second that it’s my birthday. “You’ll sit up for blueberry pancakes but not for me?” I’d do a lot more than sit up for her. ”Ellie awake?” She shakes her head and there’s a twinkle in her eye as she hands me the plate of pancakes, “No, why? You want your present?” I don’t like to be presumptuous, I ain’t never expecting shit on my day but the way those words come out of that pretty mouth I can’t help but wonder if – “What is it?” Sometimes my sweet thing runs her fingers through my hair in a way that really feels like it goes deep down into the creases of my brain, and I’m telling you now if I were a dog, my hind leg would be crankin’ like I was tryin’ to start a motorcycle. “That’s the point of a present,” she tells me, “you have to unwrap it.” That girl of mine stands by the side of the bed like she’s waiting on me to do something, and as usual I do the wrong thing and take a bite of the pancakes because the blueberries smell good and the syrup is making my mouth water but she smiles like she finds my idiocy endearing and I thank god she does because someone’s gotta. “Are you– are you my present?” She climbs in my lap and although I try and protect my plate of blueberry pancakes (if she expects me to share, she can whistle. It is my birthday after all) my day just got a little bit better. “Yes, Joel. I am your present. Happy birthday, you grumpy fuck.”

[dandunn]

Oohh these prompt writings are so fun to read, how about this for a prompt... de-aged Lupin and the gang (with/without Zenigata)

I was going to skip this ask honestly because I thought it wasn't my kind of thing but I did it and ended up being surprised. Uh. Also this is only part 1. Enjoy???

Lupin is losing his shit. As in 'holding in his sides trying not to die' laughing. It's the funniest thing he's ever seen.

"CAN IT SHIT FOR BRAINS! IT'S NOT FUNNY!" Jigen bellows, the insult would be as intimidating as the throaty roar of a lion in any normal situation. But this isn't a normal situation. It comes out as the high-pitched squeak of a kitten.

Because Jigen is six years old. And adorable!

Jigen's protests only cause a fresh lunatic howl of laughter to burst out of Lupin. He wipes tears off of his face, dabbing his cheeks with the sleeve of his pink jacket. Little Jigen stamps his foot and pouts. His hat is too big for his head now and keeps sliding off.

"Oh I'm gonna die!" Lupin says breathlessly, "Where's Goemon? Did he get hit too?"

From out behind the hefty piece of machinery comes the most shell-shocked little boy Lupin has ever seen, his robes wrapped around himself like a blanket and his now far too big sword dragging behind him.

"Ohh." Lupin coos, his eyes filling with tears again. 

"Cease." Baby Goemon murmurs, his chubby cheeks turning red. "Do not say what I think you are going to say."

Lupin can't help himself. His face twists up in an effort to hold his squeal back, but it's too late, "You're so…. Cuuuuuute!"

Goemon attempts to draw his sword, but his arms aren't long enough and it catches halfway in its sheath. His feet get tangled in his robes and he falls on his ass.

Both of his partners turned children stare up at him.

Why'd it have to be me that gets stuck as the only adult here? Lupin thinks, I'm not exactly a role model!

"This is gonna be a problem if we get attacked." Lupin says, scratching the back of his neck, "Unless the guys who made this machine have a weakness for being kicked in the shins."

"Lupin when I get back to normal I am going to kill you!" Little Jigen meows again, struggling to pick up his combat magnum with his tiny hands. "How do we change back?! The controls on the machine-?"

"Do you really want me to go messing around with unknown technology, what if I press the wrong button and you both end up eighty years old?"

"Point."

Unfortunately for Jigen and Goemon someone else makes the decision for them.

They start being shot at.

"No time to figure it out, off we go!" Lupin cries as he scoops up both of his partners and bolts. Jigen tries to cover Lupin's back as he dangles under one of his arms, the knockback so severe with his underdeveloped muscles that the entire gun almost flies back and knocks him upside the head. 

This isn't good. 

They barely get out of the laboratories in one piece, and Lupin's arms are not built for carrying two deadly little children at once. He's wheezing and has had to dodge more than a couple of bullets by the time they escape.

Back at the hideout, Lupin drops the two kids before heading out to buy them some clothes (making them promise not to use the stove or stick forks in electrical sockets until he gets back. Jigen throws an ashtray at him but it falls short).

Once they aren't drowning in their adult clothes anymore they all sit down to take stock. 

Unfortunately tailored suits and kimono robes for six year olds aren't easy to find, so Jigen gets a shirt with a dinosaur wearing a cowboy hat and Goemon gets Kamen Rider.

Lupin couldn't find a miniature borsalino either, so Jigen gets to keep his ludicrously oversized hat. The sight of it keeps making Lupin snicker so much he can barely stand to look at his poor gunman.

"So, what happened, what was it like?" Lupin says, enjoying this a bit too much despite how grumpy his partners are.

"You mean what it was like going through puberty in reverse? Not fun!" Jigen says, the couch practically swallowing him up. He reaches for a cigarette out of habit but Lupin stops him.

"I may be a lot of things but I'm not someone who allows a baby to smoke."

"Fuck you."

"That machine." Goemon says slowly, "we were lured into the room with it on purpose, this was done to us to take away our strength."

"Makes sense. Everyone knows how awesome and unstoppable we are." Lupin preens, "They probably think I'm helpless without you two."

"It is true." Goemon snipes. 

Jigen folds his tiny arms, grumpily staring at the cigarette box in Lupin's hands like a regular kid would look at a box of candy. "So we break back into the facility and threaten them into changing us back!"

"What's your rush, Jigen?" Lupin muses.

"What do you mean 'what's your rush?' Of course we want to get back to normal!"

"You just want to smoke." Goemon clips, and Jigen looks like he's considering getting in a baby fist fight with him.

"I'm thinking practically! What if we end up stuck like this?! What if we have to grow up all over again; voice cracking, high school - zits!"

Lupin shrugs, waving a hand, "Something something a chance to relive your youth?"

"Why on earth would we want to do that?" Goemon deadpans. "I wish to be restored to my true age as soon as humanly possible."

Lupin tries not to start giggling again, hearing Goemon's darkly formal serious voice coming out of such a cute little package. He gets a hold of himself. "Look, when we broke into the facility I had help from both of you and now I have to think of a plan to get us back in without Jigen's shooting or Zantetsuken. Just… make the best of it you can until I do that. Did either of you even have childhoods?"

The two boys turn to look at each other, Jigen lifting up his hat to shoot Goemon a quirky look from underneath his bangs. 

"My point exactly." Lupin stands up to go back to the drawing board. "Play with some blocks, take a nap or something. Don't pee your pants. I'll be as fast as I can."

Before he goes to shut himself in his room with his planning desk, he remembers something. He turns back quickly to grab Jigen's cigarettes and puts them on top of the highest wardrobe in the room. "And no smoking!"

If Lupin had a dollar for every time a six year old had flipped him off he would have about two dollars. Which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

[thesungod]

ok so I took a peek into TSATS and I see what u all mean when u say its out of character 😭 like, a lot of the narrative IS relative to various characters and such, like Nico's trauma, overcoming it, other things I haven't read yet, but the way it's written, and the way the characters go about portraying it... it doesn't even feel like Rick picked up a pen and wrote it. like, obviously he did, but you just can just tell the co-author really took the lead on this one.

like -

Nico thought Mr D looked like he was about to explode from excitement, and it was honestly a complete delight.

since when the fuck does this man smile 🤨 like yes, obviously he's a fully sentient being with emotions and shit. ik he feels happiness, he just expresses it differently, and this just seems so... forced? it's less the grumpy-lovable but still an asshole Mr D we all know and kinda love, but more-so a diluted version of him? like someone comparing a stick figure to a Van Gogh piece. it just don't work 😭

‘My two favourite demigods have returned,’ he said, and he held his arms open and embraced both of them at the same time.

this man hugs??? like, his kids and wife / lovers, sure. but he's like the most demigodphobic person ever 😭 he'd be the person to let the other hug him, pat him on the bag, scowl and say "yeah-yeah" and then shove them off. like??? (at least in my brain he is)

‘Favourite?’ Will said into Mr D’s armpit. ‘I thought you didn’t even like demigods.’ (SAME 🥴)

and then he goes on to say "fuck all u, but like, u 2 least of all" so that's pretty in character for the most part, but still

like this book don't look bad by any means, it just feels... offshade. off white to white? 1st cousins. expectation v reality. a Van Gogh baby vs an actual baby (google them, they're horrifying)

but yeah, no hate to the book, it just doesn't feel like Rick even touched it, yk? and I haven't even read a single chapter. that was me skimming to see what the fuss was about 😭 and what's up with some of the books using these quotes '' instead of ""??? it's so hard to read.

anon i’m so sorry i completely forgot to get this ask out of my drafts even if it was answered!!

i hope you’re still around!!

and i 100% agree, after reading tcotg i’m convinced rick riordan didn’t- touch tsats with a ten foot pole.

i was very willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and say the book was a team effort when it came out but there’s simply no way that’s the case. my man lied. the writing style is so different and the interpersonal relationships between characters feel so off😭

don’t get me started about the humor because tcotg had its flaws but it was literally laugh-out-loud funny in some moments. had the difference been written on purpose- like, the authors wanting to characterise Nico and Will as kinda lame people- that could have been an interesting choice (i maintain my headcanon that Nico is only ever unintentionally funny), but i really doubt it was.

and why would Mr D hug and smile and coddle Nico and Will like… it’s giving self indulgent fanfiction where everyone adores the author’s favourite character. which, i mean, if you’ve ever read my Apollo fics you know that I get it, but a published book should be held to a higher standard imo!!!

tsats did not have to be a masterpiece but it was too OOC for me to enjoy.

still, i’d advise you to read it for yourself and find out!