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spitefulverse · 11 months

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Composure / Miguel O'Hara

Summary: You work close with Miguel at the HQ, having an exceptionally high rank for your age, and daily, Miguel has to compose himself, refusing to let a simple girl ruin him. Or let himself, ruin her.

Warnings: Ten year legal age gap, reader is 21, Miguel is 31. Cussing, implied sexual tension, implied reader has thick thighs, slow burn, very smutty sex at end, praise, p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, idfk. miguel pushing himself away and being emo. NOT PROOFREAD 4.6k words.

You sighed, a wave of tiredness smacking you directly in the face as it hit the third our of your day in the HQ, while you loved your job, it grew tedious. And here you were, picking up coffee for you and Miguel, like some intern, however he had the decency to give you his credit card, stating "Get yourself something, I'm not a dick"

You held two, warm, grande coffees in your hands as you walked into Miguel's office, he sat at his desk, fiddling with his watch, mumbling away to Lyla, you couldn't actually hear the conversation but his voice sounded displeased and unhappy. "Uh, Mr O'Hara" You cleared your throat, standing in the doorway, shuffling from foot to foot as his crimson stare slowly but surely traveled up your body, lingering on your lower half. His sunken eyes looked into yours, raising a hand to usher you over. "Thanks Lyla, you can go" He commented, eyes not leaving your frame and with that Lyla quickly dissipated, shooting you a smile as she did so. Slowly, you sauntered over, unbeknownst to why he made you feel so shrunken and quiet.

You would go into his office angry every time and without a doubt, skittishly leave his room, every time, crushing on him, thinking about how good he looks. Sometimes hes pacing, or leaning against the wall, or looking out the window in the back of the room, but every time, he seems to have an effect on you.

"Was there any issues, chiquita?" He asked, reaching out for his coffee, his large, calloused hand brushing against yours as you handed him it. Chiquita, you had googled it after he repeatedly called you it since you became more or less acquaintances, it can either be a term of endearment, like little one or little gift or it is what you would call a little girl, you hope it isn't the latter. The thought that every time he said it, he could be calling you ‘little one’ always made you bite the inside of your cheek, getting a bit giddy at the thought of him. There wasn't a time you saw him where he wasn't referring to you as ‘Chiquita’

You smiled "not at all, other than me feeling bad about using your card" You then pulled the card out of your waistband, having it tucked just between your shirt and skirt, placing that on the desk. His deep, red eyes followed your every move, watching your hands, lost in thought about how dainty they looked, he shook his head just slightly. "No, don't feel bad, i sent you on a coffee run, it's the least i could do, muñeca" He hummed, taking a drink from his coffee.

Even sat in his chair, he looked big, he was almost matching your height, broad shoulders covering the back of the seat. You nodded in response to him before looking around nervously, like you couldn't find the words to say, nor did you know what you wanted to say.

"Well, i appreciate it" That means a lot coming from him. "I do, but i need to get back to work, querida, is there anything you need?" He asked, voice hoarse, he slouched back into his chair, legs widespread and chest puffed out just slightly, a sight that you would think about for days. Timidly, you shook your head, giving him a small wave to which he quirked a brow and with little to no effort, lifted just his hand from the arm rest, tilting it to signal a silent goodbye as you turned on your heel and quietly stepped out the room.

Little did you know, his eyes burned into you as you walked away, watching your hips and thighs which were only held back by a short skirt and transparent pantyhose, something he sometimes considered you purposefully wore to drive him mad. He sighed, lifting his arm to pinch the bridge of his nose. "idiota, idiota, idiota" He quietly scolded himself under his breath. He took a sip of his coffee, inhaling, and somehow even the coffee had your scent laced upon it, he groaned, placing it down and getting back to work.

He had morals, while they were obscure and some would say disagreeable or incorrect, one of his morals was that he wouldn't flirt with a coworker ten years younger than him simply because she's pretty and intelligent, no, he didn't have time for mindless activities like that. But, fuck, you were really on his mind these days, and you were getting harder to resist.

Later that day he walked out of his office, straightening himself up and striding down the corridor, focusing on his watch to avoid meaningless conversation however something broke his focus. It was the sweet smell of your perfume and the light sound of your voice, he knew you were nearby and he silently cursed himself for leaving the confinement of his office. As if on command, you walked into his vision, chatting with another spiderman, showing the guy some papers in which he seemed extremely enthusiastic about. Miguel furrowed his brows, eyeing the situation, noticing the guy placing an hand on your shoulder, he came to a halt, a few meters away and cleared his throat.

Nervously, the younger spiderman looked up at him before looking down at his daypass, which wasn’t doing anything, and speaking up. "Uh, i have a thing in like five minutes, i have to- well- I'll see you" The man turned to you, smiling before bolting off, Miguel didn't bother to look at him, just looking at you. It was a hot day, in the HQ, especially with all the windows, you had unbuttoned the first few buttons of your blouse, exposing just enough of your chest to make his throat feel blocked.

Apprehensively, you questioned him "Are you okay? Did you need something.." Your voice was quiet and meek, he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to compose himself, repeating, she's too young, over and over again in his head. "Yeah, sorry, chiquita..um- i just needed to ask you.."

His hair was pushed back, probably from how often he was brushing it out of his face in stress, his cheekbones seemed more defined than ever and his muscles squeezed at his suit as he drifted into thought, you could see his eyes faltering over your figure for a moment but you thought it was unlikely he was checking you out, so with a smile, you chuckled "Ask me.."

"What- Did.. you get the stats on earth 473?" He asked, running a hand through his hair, there it is, the reason it's slicked back. "I did" You exclaimed "It was super hard- walk with me” you interrupted your own words “buttt, me, the amazing one.." You giddily spoke, beginning to walk away, he followed, almost feeling like you were walking him like a dog, as he listened closely, eyes not leaving you. "i managed to find some old reports in the system, use the code from them, convert it back into the new report and boom, fresh, we now have all the information we need to make sure the canon events happen" You stopped in front of your office, turning to face him and smiling even brighter.

"Wow..well- thank you, dulzura, i didn't expect you to actually do it" He placed his hands on his waist, eyebrows raised and eyes soft "I'm pleasantly surprised"

You looked up at him, accidentally giving him puppy dog eyes due to his height. "yeah?" you bit your lip.

"Yeah good girl, email them to me, ok? then if you want..go home,you finish in an hour, it's hot and you've worked your ass off" He responded, averting his gaze to his watch to sort something quickly. Your cheeks felt hot at the nickname and your heart swelled at how nice he was being to you. "Thank you Mr O'hara" You jumped a little before going into your office, he just snickered, giving himself a pat on the back for how he handled the situation, he managed to not pounce on you in front of everyone, that means something.

Good girl. Good Girl, it was new. You couldn't stop thinking about how proud he looked, about the tone of his voice as he praised you, imagining if he would act the same in bed. It kept you up most of the night, thinking about him, had he interrupted the man flirting with you out of jealousy or by chance. Did he let just any coworker use his card, you doubted it, if you were in the HQ you'd ask Lyla, but there was no AI in your apartment. Once you finally fell asleep, managing to shush your thoughts about your very own boss, Miguel, your alarm rang not long after.

With a tired groan, you got up, changing into a smart dress, expecting heat so no pantyhose, the dress reached above your mid thigh but was professional enough, you were sure you had worn it before. With haste, you ate and made your way into the office, early as usual, deciding to grab Miguel a coffee as a thanks for the early leave yesterday.

You found yourself at his door, just like the day before, gently knocking, knuckles meeting the hardwood with a quiet sound. "Come in" You heard him, his voice sounding disinterested. As you stepped in, his head didn't move, he was standing at the back of his room, looking out the window, his hands on his hips. His back looked huge and you desperately wanted to be engulfed in a tight hug by his large frame, he seemed focused, his watch flickering but he wasn't acknowledging it.

"Mr O'hara" You spoke up, voice loud but sheepish. Suddenly, he spun around, eyes a little wide as he looked at you. "Ah, angelito..I didn't realise it was you knocking, i wouldve been more-" polite, is what he wanted to say, but he stopped himself, composure, don't get comfy, don't let her get attached, he told himself "Nothing" He nodded at you, as if to say 'go on'

"I brought you a coffee..as a thanks for yesterday" You smiled, holding the coffee out with lightly shaking hands. Just then he noticed your appearance, eyes travelling over the dress, stopping at where it hugged your thighs perfectly. He cursed himself and walked over, taking the coffee, letting his middle finger rest on your hand, pausing your shaking.

His hand was warm, and just the slightest touch made you feel hot, your face flushed and you looked at him with wide eyes. "You nervous, chiquita?" He tilted his head, eyes dark as he removed his hand from yours, taking a sip of the coffee.

"No- not at all Mr O'Hara, just-"

"Miguel" He looked away, voice stern and plain. You were taken aback, furrowing your brows "huh?"

"Call me Miguel, no need for formality, this is my business after all." He then internally punched himself in the face, what the fuck was he saying.

"But-"

"Ah- shush muñeca, I mean it, thank you for the coffee, you shouldn't have, what was it you wanted?" He was quick with his points and quick to finish others, leaving no room for questioning. He calmly strode over to his desk, taking a seat in the chair behind it, leaning back into it. You were speechless.

"I just- well i don't want to..push you too far" You started, tiptoeing over and taking a seat in the chair opposite, to which he quirked a brow, stopping mid coffee sip, watching the way you crossed one leg over the other. "But, my work laptop, it's kind of.."

"Shit" He commented, finishing your sentence, placing his coffee down, then his forearms on the table as if he was really listening to you, sitting up straight before leaning slightly towards you "I know they are"

"exactly, so, and you can say no but please, do not shut me down." You pointed at him, tilting your head and giving him a pleading look. He lifted his hands just slightly in mock defense, not making a sound. "Could i please, please have an upgrade?" You put your hands together and gave him your best sad eyes. Fuck, you could have anything you wanted, if it wasn't for his morals. You looked so timid and precious from his angle, it made his body shaky.

He stared blankly at you, scarlet eyes half lidded and unimpressed at your childish begging, but in reality it honestly turned him on, he wanted you to be begging for other things. It almost grew into a staring contest, your big eyes meeting his dissatisfied ones for a short while. You didn't seem to be quitting, so he sighed, looking down and shaking his head "¿qué me estás haciendo chiquita?" (T:what are you doing to me, little girl/one?) He groaned, brushing his hair back, missing various strands which fell onto his forehead. "Okay. We'll get you an upgrade, but do not tell everyone at HQ because then i'll have everyone in that chair with puppy dog eyes" He grunted.

You smiled brightly "Thank you!" He was being abnormally nice, you thought maybe you had impressed him with your work enough to earn a soft spot in his heart, while that was true, but in reality he was falling more and more each day. You then noticed his messy hair that he couldn't seem to control, ignoring your thanks as he attempted to push it back.

"If i may..Miguel?" You stood, leaning over the desk, inches away from him, you still weren’t used to his first name.

"Hm?" He looked up from his desk to be eye level with your chest, eyes widening and throat growing choked up. You hummed back, taking it as enough confirmation to gently fix his hair for him, fingers gently padding away at the loose strands, brushing his face, it made you feel hot, knowing you were so close to him, bending over his desk, but how you wished it was for another reason.

He couldn't look away, admiring the sight in front of him, when he shifted his vision, he saw your frame bending over, he didn't know which was more provocative but either way the blood was rushing somewhere he couldn't deal with right now, yet he didn't move you, he waited patiently, enjoying the feeling of your hands in his hair.

Slowly, you stepped back, smiling shyly "much better" You uttered, standing straight, noticing his flushed face. He mumbled a 'thank you' before shifting in his seat, confusing you a little, he seemed to adjust himself before standing up. He waltzed around his desk and to your side "I'll walk you to your office, i have a meeting in that department soon anyway" He changed the subject, liar.

You nodded, letting yourself out the door, him behind you, walking at the same pace. When you peaked at him, you met his eyes, both of you looking away in a panic at simultaneously being caught staring and catching the other. He again, cursed himself, a quiet string of Spanish curse words filling your ears. You found yourself slowing your steps so that you could walk side by side, he definitely noticed but didn't acknowledge it. Your soft hands brushed against his calloused, scarred ones with every step, you could see him looking bashfully to the side in your peripheral vision.

You reached the office door you knew so well and he stopped, about half a meter away. "Miguel.." You still were not used to that "Can you come in for a sec? It'll be quick"

His brows knitted to form a frown as he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes scanning your face for any mischief or lies before nodding "Of course" You opened the door and stepped in, letting him follow.

"Shut the door" You announced, turning to face him, he raised his brows, shutting the door, mouth opening as if ready to speak, angrily."Don't, nothing weird..just wanna..talk?" You stepped in front of him, looking up at him, his tall figure intimidating and deathly, his scent filling your nose.

"Are you asking me a question or stating something?" His voice was inquisitive as he eyed you curiously, his body seeming to lean away from you, defensive. "I-" You grew nervous, his cardinal eyes boring into you, pupils blown and lip slightly snarling. "I?"

You could hear his breathing, he could hear yours, you were so close, you smelt so good, he wanted to kiss you so bad, but he held himself above office relationships, ignoring all his flirty thoughts. Your hand pressed to his chest as you let out a shaky breath, thoughts clouding your head as your eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips, biting down on your own at the thought of kissing him. He tensed at your touch but couldn't help leaning into it. "You're driving me insane" He muttered, taking your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing it, the feeling making sparks fly, heart beating so quick you swore it would fly away, you couldn't help but gasp.

"Y/n, You know i can't act on my thoughts about you" He sighed, letting go of your hands but you grabbed his wrists, you knew deep down if he wanted to he could pull away easily. Why was he being so open, why wasn’t he leaving or pushing you away from him with force?

"What thoughts Miguel? Tell me what you want" You pleaded and he shook his head, looking away from you before he lost all composure.

"Mierda..you know i can't chiquita..you're too young for me..I'm your boss, there is so fucking much wrong with just this conversation." He scolded, his voice raspy, accent thick.

"I don't care. Just act, stop hiding yourself from me" You whined slightly, looking up at him with those eyes he fell for. He groaned, removing his hands from your grip, taking your cheeks in his grasp and ducking his head down to smash his lips against yours, fuck was he breaking his morals. He felt so guilty but the feeling of your lips on his felt so good. You didn't have a twinge of guilt, finally feeling the relief you needed, the dim lights of your office the perfect lighting for a kiss.

As his lips molded to yours, your mouth opened, tongues touching in perfect bliss, a low grunt rumbling from him, vibrating against your lips. His hands fell into your hair, keeping you as close as possible as your hands found their way to his shoulders, palms spreading over the blades, not able to reach around his neck. He gently sucked on your bottom lip before pulling back, the kiss being so deep a string a saliva connected the both of you for a split second, his face inches away as he breathed out, although you found yourself breathless.

"Well, your an amazing kisser" You breathed out nervously, hands gripping at the 'fabric' of his suit, his eyes softened and he hummed.

"So are you.." His hand stroked your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin "I can't do this princesa, i won't let myself do this to you" He shook his head, pressing his kiss to yours for a split second before pulling back, removing your hands from his shoulders.

"No Miguel, please, I wan't this, your the only one that doesn't"

"Mi vida..i wan't this, i wan't this bad, so very bad, believe me i do. But I'm dismissive and confusing, I'll hurt you, I know I will" He was so conflicted, like he didn't want to leave, nor was he going to, but he couldn't do anything because something unconsciously told him not to. You frowned, pulling him down to your level by his shoulders, cupping his cheek "I don't care Miguel, you won't hurt me, I won't let you"

"You're young and naive, you don't understand, i wan't to give you everything, it's so hard to resist you, but i'll ruin you, little one" His face was distressed, apart from his soft, swollen lips. The nickname made you suck in a breath and you bit down on your lip before shaking your head "So? ruin me" You teased.

He groaned in anticipation, the noise sounding whinier than before, as if he was losing the battle in his head, you knew you were breaking him down bit by bit. You both held eye contact for a moment as he seemed to think.

"For fucks sake" He growled, hands grasping your waist and pulling you in for another kiss, this time less loving and more needy, the feeling going straight to your core. His fingertips dug into your side, a moan erupting from you at the feeling, already so desperate. He pulled away and hooked his fingers under the hem of your dress "You don't take no for an answer, do you?" He snarled, looking into your eyes with his dark ones. With a smirk and giggle, you shook your head. He removed his fingers from your dress and slipped his hands to the back of your thighs, suddenly lifting you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he pushed you gently into the wall, his hand snaking all over your thigh, gripping at the plush, eyes staring down at your legs that squeezed him in. His eyes seemed to flutter, humming out a quiet moan as he played with you, before looking at you. "You act so innocent, but strut around showing off everything you can..you tease me all the time, do you know how hard it was to not take you right on my desk countless times, fuck just seeing you sit down earlier, it's like your trying to get me to fuck you" He declared, voice patronising.

"I am, everyday" You purred, not able to stop the grin on your face a he looks at you, shaking his head as if telling you off "So deceiving..hope you don't act like that with the others" he tutted.

"Just you, Miggy" You hummed, finally able to reach him, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers finding his hair, twirling it around your fingertips. "Good girl" The corner of his lips curved into a small smirk, there it was, the thing that kept you up all night and he was saying it again, this time the exact way you wanted. He averted his view back to your thighs, pushing your dress up to your hips agonizingly slow, fingers dragging over your skin, admiring the lace black panties you wore underneath.

"Fuck..tan jodidamente hermoso" (t: so fucking pretty) His fingers brushed over the material, your breath hitching as he grew closer and closer to where you needed him. "You sure you want this, you can't take it back once its happened mi amor" He looked at you through his lashes and you eagerly nodded, panting lightly. He then pushed your panties to the side, the thin material being no trouble to him as he stared at you, a shaky breath leaving him, his thumb lightly touching your clit. Whining just slightly, you bucked your hips in reaction, so desperate.

He snickered and pulled back his hands, holding you up with just his hips as he pressed some buttons on his watch, his suit literally disappearing, the sight making you gasp. "Tech" He shrugged before leaning down to kiss and nip at your neck, fang dragging over your throat, quiet moans filling his ears as he did so. He suddenly lifted one of his hands to our face "Spit into my hand” he mumbled into the skin of your neck, sucking lightly, marking you as his own.

A little confused, you cautiously spat, trying not to make too much noise from just his kisses, his hand fell back down between your legs, he stroked his cock with his now wet hand, dragging his hand up and down until he felt he was ready for you. The sight sinful and something you would think about for weeks. You could feel the vibrations of his noises against your neck as he dragged his tip along your folds, covering himself in your slick, the feeling making you even more needy. He pulled back from your neck, admiring his work before looking down at where your bodies touched, his hand grasping the base of his cock, lining himself up with your hole.

"You ready baby?" He asked and you nodded, hands tightening on his hair. He slowly pushed into you, the stretch insane, you could feel him twitch inside, you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut and he attached his mouth to yours, hoping to distract you as he fully bottomed out into you. Both of you moaned into the open-mouthed kiss, your fingertips tugged at the short hairs at the base of his neck

He began to slowly pull out of you before fully bottoming out again, hips meeting as he repeated the action, each time, your body bounced against the wall from the contact. The kiss grew sloppy as his movements sped up and you pulled back to dip your head into the crook of his neck, whining out at the amazing feeling of him hitting your g-spot repeatedly with each thrust.

"There? That the spot princesa?" he breathed out, his hand pressing against the wall for stability as the other squeezed your thigh desperately, his cock destroying you in the best way possible. You nodded, muttering out incoherent words into his collarbone, he realized how cockdrunk you were and couldn't help but grow slightly vain, the sound of you babbling and moaning going straight to his dick.

Your hands slid down his shoulders growing limp and landing on his mid back, nails digging into the skin, scratching slightly. "Feels s'good Miguel.." You rambled and he groaned "Yeah? Fuck, you feel fucking amazing baby" He fucked into you, noticing the way your walls began to squeeze him and hips began to rock to meet his.

You felt your orgasm going near, lower stomach tightening as you sputtered out curse words, he made sure to fuck you especially well as he panted out "can i cum inside?" His thrusts getting inconsistent and out of tempo. You nodded quickly "y-yeah, please, want it" You pierced his back with your nails.

Your ankles crossed around his waist, locking his body as close to you as possible and he pushed into you for the final time, his hand reaching to rub at your clit as he spilled his load into you, body shaking as you came at the feeling of it. For a moment you both stay, breathing heavily in silence before he carefully pulls back from you, straightening out your underwear after he was no longer inside you. He placed you on your desk, still between your legs, gingerly pressing a kiss to your neck before stepping back, causing you to whine at the loss of contact.

"I know, i know cariño..I'm not leaving" He reassured, pulling your skirt back down to your mid thigh, thumb then brushing over your marked neck. "You fucked up my back, mi corazon" He huffs, turning slightly to show you your damage, you could see the various white above skin cuts covering his back along with a few actual cuts, a small amount of blood decorating his muscles.

"Sorry, Miggy" You smiled, chuckling lightly at yourself. He looked at you, smiling a little "Your laughing? at my pain?"

"Nono!-" "I'm kidding, it felt fucking great doll" He pressed a kiss to your lips, rubbing at your thighs before pressing at his watch and appearing fully suited up again, aside from his face. "Now, im actually behind on work, so I need to catch up, but don't be stranger, you know my apartment number chiquita"

Then he left, disappointed in his lack of composure and self respect for sleeping with someone so young but also unbothered because he was madly in love with you. He couldn’t wait to see you again.

---

I know there is so many spelling mistakes so i deeply apologize, i wrote this quite quick. I'm happy to write a part two if anyone's interested angels ;))

Pet name translations:

Princesa-Princess, Dulzura-Sweetness, Muñeca-doll, Angelito- little angel, Mi Vida - My life, Mi corazon- my heart, Chiquita - little one/girl (duh)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spitefulversefics #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara one shot #spiderman 2099 smut #spider verse

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whalyrae · 1 month

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THE OLD GUARD - CHAPTER 4

"We don’t get a say on how it ends, we never have. But we can control how we live."

Summary : You are a powerful witch, cursed and hurt through ages. Owner of your esoteric shop, you were resigned to live this lonely life when the powerful magic of soulmates and fate came to you.

Pairing : poly BTS x reader (she/her)

Genre : soulmate au, demons bts au, witch y/n au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships

Status : In process

Word Count : 5k

Warnings : eventual smut, angst, mention of depression, death, suicide, past trauma, violence, blood, past (sexual) abuse, past torture, PTSD, scars, self harm, and more.

Tag list : @blackrockshooter780 @babyymeme @starrlo0ver @suckerforv @mushroom-main @m1sss1mp @prettydancingdamzel @i-have-no-life-charlie @avadakadabra93 @veronawrites @kawaiikpoplover268 @didi-9310 @ghostlyworld @carolinexkpop @gooooomz @00ihatesnaku

A/N : After months of struggling with life, health, mental health issues... I can FINALLY POST AGAIN !! This chapter was really hard to write (I cried a little at the end ngl :D), I have constant writer block, constant impostor syndrome... I have the perfectionnism trait but in a toxic way really TT.TT Don't hesitate to like and reblog !! Also don't be afraid to leave a little comment or if you have any questions, here or in anon in my inbox !! they are really really welcomed, I love reading all your impressions and thoughts !!

Also thank you so much !! I was inactive for a very long time and I still got daily alerts with people who liked/kudos the chapters and the story :(( I can't express (yeah i'm an author and i can't express through words LOL) how much i'm grateful :(( ♥♥

ps : ah and sorry if there is any mistakes or anything it's almost 2:30am when I post this and I had an really emotionnal day fgkfdhlfk LOVE YALL MUAH ♥

Playlist link : The Old Guard Playlist

Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad

Chapter 3 // Chapter 5

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

She was wondering whether it would be better to ask Handong to stay with her. She had assured her that she would handle the situation and that Handong could go home. She knew that Gahyeon would need her at their coffee shop.

However, now that she was in the living room of the seven boys, her soulmates’, after bringing one of them in an utterly unconscious state for a reason as unknown to them as it was to her, she was starting to regret this decision.

She couldn't understand what had happened with Jin the moment their eyes met. She couldn't say anything, the words were stuck in her throat as they stared at each other without a word. He parted his lips as if he wanted to say something, but just like her, nothing came out.

He'd known she was his soul mate, of course he could feel it. Just like her. But had he recognized her? Did he know that the two of them were the firsts of their soulmate bond to meet, long before any of the other six were born? She couldn't be sure and didn't have time to find out.

She had seen his features contort in pain, and without a word, he had collapsed. Luckily, Handong, who had seen them, was able to catch him in time, preventing him from falling to the ground and potentially injuring himself.

Thanks to a spell that increased her strength tenfold, she could carry him without Handong’s help and any difficulty to the place where he lived with his mates. But she couldn't stop herself from hurrying, worried sick about him.

And that's where she is now. Jungkook helped her carry Jin to the living room, laying him on the sofa. While Yoongi woke up Taehyung and Namjoon. Jimin and Hoseok hurried to get a damp cloth on Jin's forehead.

Namjoon and Taehyung stormed into the room, not hiding their surprise at seeing her there in total panic.

However, they didn't ask any questions. Yoongi probably had to explain to them what happened and what was going on.

She was standing in front of the sofa where Jin was lying, staring at the unconscious demon, his features distorted by pain. The sight of him was enough to make her stomach twist with soreness.

"Hey, Noona..." Jimin's soft voice startled her. He was standing next to her, a comforting smile on his lips, "Everything’s going to be fine, don't worry..."

She didn't even know what to say. She didn't dare to look him in the eye, or any of the other boys. The guilt she'd been carrying around with her all these centuries was only getting stronger.

She could hear voices behind her, probably the boys talking amongst themselves, or maybe they were trying to talk to her. She didn't know. Nothing around her was clear and precise. Her vision was blurring, her heart rate had been racing for a while and she was getting worse.

She gasped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned round abruptly, facing Namjoon. The other boys were behind him, except for Yoongi who was next to Jin.

"Hey," he greeted her with a gentle smile, "don't worry, everything's going to be fine,” he repeated Jimin’s words, “You're having a panic attack, I'm gonna help you, okay? Look at me."

His voice was soft and reassuring, it had a calming effect on her. His presence and warmth invaded her whole being, despite the anxiety attack she was having.

She raised her eyes to meet him. Slowly, he tells her to take long, deep breaths. The first time, she breathed in and breathed out. Then a second time. And a third.

Finally, her breathing returned to normal and her heart rate calmed. Seeing this, Namjoon gave her another smile, his fingers caressing her shoulder to calm her down.

She had the strange impression that Namjoon probably possessed some kind of power capable of influencing the emotions, feelings, or even bodily reactions of the people he touched. Or maybe it was just the soulmate effect.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes... Thank you..." She replied with a small smile, seeing Hoseok approach her with a glass of water. "Thanks… and sorry, I wish we'd met under different circumstances..."

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm enchanted to meet you."

Hoseok gave her a big, bright smile, which he succeeded in communicating to her.

"I guess you guys have questions... and why did I show up with Jin in this state..."

She turned her attention to Jin. A wave of emotion suddenly washed over her as she realized that yes, he was there, in the same room as her. Her soul mate, the first to cross her way, the one she'd lost so suddenly and brutally centuries ago. A mixture of joy, sadness, guilt, and apprehension.

"Do you know what's going on with him? And why is he in this condition?" Hoseok asked curiously, taking back the glass she'd just drunk in one long sip.

She bit her lower lip nervously. She had to tell them. Jin was their soulmate, just like he was hers.

But where to start?

"Come on, settle down here."

Yoongi straightened up to install her on the sofa, right next to Jin still unconscious. He'd then sat down next to her, while the others had taken seats in front of her, Namjoon and Hoseok on the low table, the maknae on the floor, clinging to each other.

The sight made her smile gently. But quickly the smile disappeared, replaced by apprehension. The words just wouldn't come out of her mouth. She knew that the moment had come, that once she'd told them everything, they'd hate her, reject her, and she’d lose the people she'd waited for all her life.

"Noona... I can smell your fear all the way up here..." murmured Jimin, her eyes landing on him with surprise, "I'm an empath, by the way..." he explained with a shrug.

"You don't have to be an empath to sense the fear radiating from her." chuckled Taehyung, teasing his companion who gave him a nudge on the shoulder, "Oops, sorry sweetie."

"I know that from the moment you will know the whole story, you'll never want to hear from me again and I... argh that's the last thing I want," she admitted with a sad smile. The events of the last few days had paralyzed and overwhelmed her in some ways when it came to making the right decisions, and she was extremely upset with herself about this.

"But I think I need to stop being scared, and selfish like I have been."

"We could never hate you," Hoseok said firmly, the others all giving signs of approval, "no matter what you've done."

"Tell us all the horrible things you ever did, and let us love you anyway."

She recognized Namjoon's words. And she wasn’t surprised that he could quote Edgard Allan Poe, considering the circumstances of their first meeting.

She couldn't deny that his words made her feel a tinge of comfort, because he was sincere, and every one of the other boys thought so.

But they didn't know the whole story yet, so the chances of them thinking differently once they knew the whole truth were pretty high.

"Where to start..." she took a long breath, "Jin... I met him before I even knew I was immortal. That was... uh... it seems like an eternity now, at the beginning of the 15th century."

She expected the exclamations of surprise that followed.

"Wait... you mean you and Jin hyung..." Jungkook fell silent to think.

"Why didn't he ever tell us about you then? And why have we never met you before ?” asked Yoongi skeptically, "You're our soulmate, his soulmate, how could he..."

"It's more complicated than it sounds..." she sighed, scratching the back of her head nervously. "I always knew I was a witch, my mother was a witch herself. I lived in a village in France during the period when the witch hunts began. It was also during this period that the Malleus Maleficarum was written."

"I know this book," Hoseok sighed loudly as he shook his head, visibly annoyed, "this pile of garbage written in the late 15th century, which supposedly explains what a witch is, how to recognize one, interrogate them, and kill them."

"A load of bullshit yeah," Namjoon added with a chuckle, "I rarely waste my time reading books, but this one..."

"Tell me more !" Jimin exclaimed, "I read it too, well, not all of it, it's so... misogynistic and sexist!"

"I... was one of the witches who had to go through all the torture and experimentation to write this... book or whatever it is. And most of the women who suffered all that crap were just ordinary mortals," she admitted with a little restraint.

Horrified exclamations were heard from the maknaes and Hoseok. Yoongi and Namjoon closed their eyes for a few seconds, repressing the anger rising within them.

Talking about these events did not leave her indifferent; these memories were among the worst she had ever known, and she still sometimes had nightmares about them.

She remained silent for a few moments, before finally speaking up.

"That's not the point. Jin is the point. When I met him, he was a merchant passing through the village." A small smile appeared mechanically as she recalled this memory, "It was love at first sight. Of course, it was. He knew I was his soul mate, but I... I didn't even know what a soulmate was. He taught me. He taught me so many things..."

She turned her head towards Jin, still unconscious beside her. Oh, how she'd missed him. He hadn't changed a bit.

"I immediately sensed that he wasn't human, just as he'd guessed that I was a witch. So much better in a way, it made things easier."

Delicately, she let her fingers stroke his forehead, brushing aside a few strands of hair, a tender smile on her face.

"He stayed in the village after that. I had taken over the bakery from my parents who had passed away from an illness a few months before I met him. We weren't the richest, but we were happy.”

The other boys couldn't contain the grins on their faces. Of course, this story was beautiful and worthy of a fairy tale. But they all knew that fairy tales were only fantasy stories. The reality was not nearly as lovely.

"We lived... two years like that before everything went to hell."

She felt her hands tremble as she recalled what she was about to say.

Jimin sensed her nervousness, fear, and sadness. He left Taehyung and Jungkook's embrace to kneel before her, gently taking her hands in his for comfort.

Her gaze met his, and he offered her a gentle, reassuring smile. But she couldn't relax.

"The witch-hunt had begun and was becoming increasingly virulent and violent. The villagers had always thought it was strange that I hadn't suffered the same illness as my parents. I knew the rumors about Jin and I. But until now, we'd managed to keep a discreet, almost unnoticed presence. Until she came along."

Jimin squeezed her hands a little tighter as he felt her anger rising.

"That demoness... came to our village, supposedly a cloth merchant. She fell for Jin. Was it love, or just a physical attraction? I don’t know. She succumbed to his devastating charm, like so many others before her." She chuckled, imitated by Yoongi.

"As you would expect, Jin did nothing but ignore her and rebuff her advances. She didn't appreciate it at all… I learned later that this half-succubus demoness was renowned for finding prey and not letting go until she got what she wanted."

"A real nasty leech..." muttered Jungkook.

She noticed, however, that Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok expressions had changed. They had exchanged glances, seeming to pass a message to each other that she didn't understand. She decided to ignore it for the moment.

"Things got worse after she arrived, after Jin's rejection." She took a long breath. "She's the one who delivered me to the villagers, who exposed me. When we realized her plan, that she was planning to take Jin with her by force, by any means necessary, we wanted to run away. We'd go to Asia, or America, or wherever, to another continent, away from her, away from all of this. But that demoness had planned everything… We were young, unaware, and inexperienced, unlike her. I was barely 25, and he was 23... we just wanted to..."

She paused to calm herself, her heartbeat quickening again. Fortunately, Jimin was able to calm her, just by being here, his soft hands on hers, and she was grateful for that. She thanked him with a small smile, which he returned by stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. How could a demon be so angelic?

"She specialized in memory magic..."

"Oh, I'm getting the hang of it..." muttered Namjoon, clenching his jaw.

"That bitch…" added Yoongi, making her huff.

"The villagers arrived in the middle of the night. We didn't see it coming. The demoness took advantage of this moment to attack Jin and cast a spell to erase me from his memory. The last time I saw Jin was before they put a bag over my head when he was unconscious in her arms."

She lowered her head, and it was only when she felt Jimin's soft hand on her cheek that she noticed a tear had rolled down.

She knew what the demoness had done, she knew that she'd erased Jin's memory, simply because she'd come to see her a few days later in the cell where she was being held captive. She explained everything, adding that she had offered to give her over to the Catholic order of Dominicans who wrote the Malleus Maleficarum. Which happened, the day after she came.

"When I finally escaped... After several months," she continued anyway, her voice trembling, "I looked for him, I... crossed France from top to bottom, and Europe... I looked for him everywhere, for many years... I never found him... until now..."

Jimin's hands gripped hers a little tighter. She looked up at him, then at Yoongi, who had moved a little closer to her. Their shoulders were touching, his way of showing her some comfort.

"So that's what happened..." muttered Namjoon, who had straightened up, his eyebrows furrowed, looking thoughtful.

"I hate humans..." blurted Jungkook as he hugged Taehyung tightly, his companion nodding in agreement.

"And so, you thought we'd hate you, or I don't know what other nonsense might go through your little head when we know the truth?" Yoongi asked, holding back a laugh. “I don’t see why. I mean. It’s genuine, really.”

She arched her eyebrows in confusion. She thought that it seemed logical. She hadn't been able to protect Jin, she’d left him in the clutches of this demoness who'd probably done a thousand and one things to him that she didn't even want to think about. She hated herself for it.

"Hyung." Hoseok sighed, shaking his head, "stop."

"I failed to protect him, he's my soulmate and... I abandoned him and..."

"You didn't do any of that, Y/N."

Namjoon approached her. He took Jimin’s place and knelt down facing her, placing his hands on hers.

"You're both the victims. You've met someone stronger, older, more experienced than you and she took advantage of it. You did everything you could. You did your best. You could never be blamed for that. We could never blame you for that. ."

"And Jin hyung won't blame you either, I'm sure," Hoseok added with a small smile. "When he will regain his memory, when we will give him back what that demoness stole from him, he'll be the happiest man in the world to have you back with him, with us. Believe me."

She pressed her lips together, not wanting to cry, not yet.

Yoongi wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer.

"It's over now," he whispered against her hair, "you're not alone anymore, you won't be. We've found you, you've found us."

She couldn't hold back the few tears that had started to fall. How could she not break down, after all those centuries spent alone, thinking that her soulmates didn't want her, living with the guilt of having abandoned the only soulmate she’d ever known.

They said the same things as her friends when she told them everything a few days ago.

None of them thought for a second that what happened to Jin and her was her fault.

That feeling of being understood, of not being judged, of being accepted despite her past mistakes and scars.

That feeling of being in the presence of her soul-mates.

She hadn't felt so at peace in what seemed like an eternity. Ever since Jin and her were separated.

°°°

"Noona... I have a few questions..."

"Here we go... the kid and his questions. Wait, I'll get you an aspirin and a big glass of water."

Jungkook glared at Yoongi, who had gotten up to go into the kitchen, a sneer on his lips.

Jin still hadn't woken up, but after a simple soothing spell and an herbal ointment she’d carefully placed on his temples, he was calmer, his body more relaxed.

She hadn't wanted to stay, not wanting to risk another attack if Jin woke up again. She learned through Yoongi about the migraine attacks he'd had since the day she met Namjoon.

But the boys convinced her to stay. Namjoon and Hoseok had disappeared into their library, explaining that they were going to rummage through their books after a potential counter-spell. She wanted to go with them, but they insisted she stay with Jin and rest.

It didn't take long to realize that Jin's seizures had a direct link with her.

As her soul mate, and despite his forced amnesia, his subconscious knew who she was. But it wasn't strong enough to bring back the memories the demoness had made disappear. Well, they hadn't disappeared, technically; she'd just hidden them very well somewhere in his psyche.

her scent on the clothes of Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook had been the trigger for his subconscious to awaken, for his memories to struggle, to resurface and make Jin realize that yes, he did know her, as his intuition suggested. Yes, the person on the hill was her, yes every memory he thought belonged to someone else was his, and that the blurry person sharing them with him was none other than her.

The migraines, the loss of consciousness... were only signs that his body, mind, and soul were fighting to bring his memories back to where they belonged, to finally give him back what that demoness had stolen from him.

Or at least, that's what she’d come to conclude on hearing Yoongi's explanations.

"Ask me anything Jungkook, don't worry," she replied with a small smile, still sitting next to Jin.

Yoongi had returned with some drinks (no aspirin, to Junkook's great relief) which he gave to the three maknae, still sitting opposite her, and to her, then sat down on the coffee table.

"I was wondering, how did you find out that you were... immortal? I mean, what does that actually mean?"

She'd been expecting this question. Even for demons, immortality was still a rather vague concept. Nobody is immortal. Demons and vampires aged slowly, very much more slowly than human beings. But they weren't really immortal.

"I died for the first time after the Malleus Maleficarum experiments, they sentenced me to be hanged to death, like all the witches at that time."

She heard the exclamations of surprise from the maknaes. Yoongi remained silent, listening to her attentively.

"I actually died that day. Except... except a few seconds after I took my last breath, my heart started beating again, and I came back to life."

None of them could believe their ears. Yoongi couldn't hide his surprise either, and she knew that a thousand questions were forming in their heads.

"The second time was a few days later. At a bonfire." she continued, bowing her head, "The thing is… I feel all the pain, all the way to death. But for some reason, I live again and again. No matter how people try to kill me, no matter how I die, my wounds heal themselves, my organs reform."

"Is it due to a spell?" finally asked Yoongi with his eyebrows furrowed, "or maybe some kind of witch, a hybrid with a phoenix..."

"I think you're going a bit far, hyung..." Taehyung chuckled slightly.

"Hey, every proposition can be plausible, gamin."

She couldn't hold back a smile. It was obvious that they'd known each other for several decades now, that they'd been through a lot together. In a way, she was relieved that at least they hadn't had to go through all that alone.

"I've never known the reason, or why I became like that," she finally continued, scratching the back of her neck, "I just am. Several times I thought I wouldn't get up this time from certain injuries, especially during the wars, but I always got up again. And just like that, more than 600 years have gone by."

"Maybe it's just that fate didn't want you to die before you met your soul mates, who knows." Yoongi chuckled, shrugging.

"If you think the universe and destiny are that kind of romantic..." Jungkook rolled his eyes.

"I'm tempted to believe that theory, it's much sweeter and more romantic than a curse put on you..." added Jimin with a little pout.

"Sometimes things just happen, and they're impossible to explain. Even for creatures like us." she let go with a sigh and an embarrassed smile, "In any case, I've stopped looking and obsessing over it, I've just accepted it."

"Still, it must be painful to die, over and over again..." Jimin cocked his head to the side, feeling a wave of sadness as he thought of all she'd had to go through in her long life. As an empath, his reaction hardly surprised her.

If they knew. She didn't want to dwell on how some humans and even other creatures had taken advantage of her immortality to put her through the many horrors she’d experienced. This wasn't the time to talk about all those things.

“Our pretty soulmate is strong and courageous.” Yoongi finally broke the silence after a few seconds, “She’ll talk about it when she feels ready.”

She bites her lips. She wanted to tell him to not call her pretty, but she felt that it was destined to fail. Yoongi seemed to be stubborn, maybe a little too much.

“Do you guys think Joonie and Hobi will find something ?” Asked Jungkook, looking at Jin with worry.

“For sure they will!” exclaimed Jimin, “Namjoon has books that are centuries old and unique, Hobi and him are the most intelligent demons ever! They’ll find something, surely!”

Jimin was passionate, his trust in his partners was blind and absolute. It was probably the same for all of them, she was sure about it, but Jimin was the one who showed it the most.

“In the worst case…”

“Taehyung don’t start…” mumbled Jungkook, as the others sighed.

“Let me finish! In the worst case, if we don’t find anything for Jin hyung, the solution is simple, very simple. We’ll create new memories, so many new happy memories all together!”

“If something was robbed from you without your consent, I think you'd like to have it back. Don't you think so?" Yoongi asked, his voice softened as he ruffled Taehyung’s hair who nodded with a sad pout.

He was just as worried as the others. There were so many unanswered questions, so many theories without explanations, so many problems without solutions yet.

“Namjoon and Hoseok always find a way to resolve problems, you should be used to it now.”

That voice startled all of them. All five heads turned to the sofa beside Yoongi and her. To everyone's surprise, Jin was staring at them, or rather, at her.

“Jin you’re awake !”

While the younger hurried towards their eldest, their faces racked with worry and relief, she reflexively stepped back.

She couldn't get very far, as her back bumped into a chest. She turned to face Yoongi, who placed his hands gently on her shoulders. He could read the stress and apprehension on her face. He couldn't imagine what she must be feeling right now, coming face to face with the one she'd lost centuries ago.

"Where are you going like this?" he asked at first in a slightly teasing tone, before he leaned towards her and whispered, his voice softening, "Relax, everything's fine."

She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. She'd spent her whole life looking for Jin and his other soulmates. Now they were all here. They were all in the same house. Everything still seemed so unreal that she didn’t know how to react or what to do.

“Y/N ?”

She froze when she heard her name coming from Jin's lips. The others in the room gave him a surprised, confused look.

"Hyung, do you..."

"Remember her? Us? Unfortunately not, I don’t. But I heard you guys talking earlier, I wasn't totally unconscious. Thanks for the herbs, by the way, they really appeased my headache."

Her eyes widened at his words. Had he heard everything? Did he know the whole story, just like his other soulmates? In a way, she didn't know if she could handle a new explanation, which was a bit of a relief. On the other, she was concerned about his reaction, since he was the one who was affected.

Jin straightened up to sit on the sofa, helped by Jimin. Yoongi was still standing behind her and gave her a gentle nudge, so that she didn't push herself aside.

Jin's eyes landed on her. For a moment, he said nothing, just looked at her. She could feel the stress twisting her stomach, her legs going limp as cotton. She felt weaker than she had ever felt before.

"Can you come a little closer, please?"

Jin's voice was soft; she perceived no anger, no resentment on his side. He had kept his comforting aura, the same one she'd known so long ago, the same one that had reassured her countless times.

She soon faced him and lowered herself slightly to be at the same height as him.

How was someone supposed to react to finding their soulmate and youthful amnesiac love, lost in tragic circumstances centuries ago?

She was torn between tears of joy and relief, but the guilt that consumed her seemed to be the most dominant feeling at the moment.

"Jin I..."

She pursed her lips. Her voice trembled. For sure her body would betray her right now.

Jin offered him a tender smile and shook his head.

"Shht, it's all right." he murmured his words as he gently grasped her hand, "come here."

Without waiting for a response from her, he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her.

At first, her eyes widened in surprise. Quickly, she couldn't hold back any longer. Her arms followed and she hugged his waist as if her life depended on it.

"I know what you're thinking," he began, his hand running gently through her hair, "I'm not angry or anything, how could I be? It was never your fault, nor mine." He paused before letting out a small sigh, she could hear all the pain, the sadness in his voice, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry you've had to carry this burden all alone all this time…"

Her whole body was shaking. His voice was shaking, as if he were holding back his own tears. She was fighting inside. She was fighting herself not to break down. But her traitorous body still betrayed her, and she couldn't even control her tears, which had started to flow uncontrollably.

But his words. His words resonated not only in her heart but in her entire soul. She didn't know how much she needed to hear those words from him until now.

"We'll find a way, and everything will go back to normal, it will be even better, I promise."

After all these years, these centuries of living with the weight of guilt, the weight of regret, the feeling that she'd never be able to meet her soul mates... she felt all this weight recede, making way for a quietude and lightness like she'd never known before.

An eternity of torment, torture, and pain was finally over.

It was as if she'd been deprived of oxygen all her life, until now, as if her breathing had been cut off, and now she was finally getting it back.

And even though she was currently crying her heart out in Jin's arms, she could also feel Taehyung's warm, reassuring hand on her back, Jimin's, Jungkook's, and Yoongi's presence in the room, Namjoon's and Hoseok's, even if they weren't in the same room with them.

Her cries were no longer cries of sadness. There was only relief, and it was becoming more of an evacuation from all that time of pain and isolation.

All those smells, all that warmth that invaded her body at that moment, brought her calm and relief she'd never be able to explain, not even in a day, a year, ten years, or even a hundred years.

The reunion with Jin that day, feeling him against her again, as well as having the presence of her soul mates around them, those who were destined for her. After all this time where her heart and soul had been crying out for help, she had finally been heard.

The darkness was finally disappearing, as the clouds and obscurity finally allowed the sun a chance to shine.

And despite her tears, she couldn't help smiling, because at last, she knew that happiness really was within her grasp.

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ad0rebrial · 14 days

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SF-GANG dating(sep) or being friends with popular fem reader? ❤️

🌸SAL FISHER🌸

Sally ain’t that type of person who is popular. He has been seen as anything but popular throughout his life and the only time where he’s actually been “popular” was..bullying. This is obviously very new to him since he finds himself in a state of denial, insecurity, and also Jealousy.

Sal is in denial that you truly love him for who he is. He has been showed the ropes of people faking to befriend him and all these people were most likely popular through their actions. He worries that may happen with you as well even though he is actually attracted to you.

We cannot forget the major insecurities Sal carrie’s on his shoulders all throughout his life. He is also scared of you seeing his face because he doesn’t want to loose you over that. He wants to be seen as attractive in your eyes even though it’s not all true for him.

List of people know you! That’s good that many people know who you are but he gets jealous that so many people do. He wants to be the only one to know you and he knows that it’s very selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it! Just reassure him that it doesn’t matter how much people adore you because he’ll always be the first.

🌸LARRY JOHNSON🌸

Larry wouldn’t think that he is the most attractive person in the world but he is head over heels for you! He would consider himself as very lucky to have a girlfriend like you in his life despite his flaws. Larry isn’t as open to his worries with the fact that the two of you are in a relationship but he does feel like he has some competition…The thought runs through his mind, wondering if you found someone who was much more appealing than him that you would break up with him and run to that certain someone.

If someone is able to make you laugh more, smile more, compliment you more, or anything— he will automatically worry about it. Even he gets paranoid around his own friends about this issue. He doesn’t want to lose you. He loves you deeply and he doesn’t want you to fall for someone else and leave him just like that. He would much prefer you to leave him over his hardheaded personality than you finding someone who is much more than a Sanity Falls geek.

Larry is quick to defend you when someone is mischaracterizing you. He gets that popular people can be assholes sometimes but people gotta learn how to separate the bad from the good. He wants people to see that you aren’t one of those bratty, daddy’s money popular girls that they see in all those movies because you are way better than that. He can see that it upsets you when people portrait you as someone your not so he will try his best to make sure that people see you as someone sweet.

🌸ASHLEY CAMPBELL🌸

Ash used to find your popularity to be pretty intimidating before you two were dating. You just looked so scary but so pretty at the same time! She finds herself staring at you in awe as people crowd around you. and you laugh along with your friends, cursing herself for not gaining the confidence to walk up to you and strike up her own conversation freely. She simply had a HUGE crush on the popular girl!

When the two of you finally got together Ash was so thrilled. She loved you so much and would do many things with you such as shopping, going out to a small coffee shop, hanging out on the daily, and so much more that included the two of you. The two of you were very open about the fact that you two are dating and that made her more happy knowing that you were also in on letting everyone know that your heart was all for her, beating for her.

However, she did realize that due to this relationship you lost some of your friends. They didn’t find it appealing that you were dating a girl while also being a girl yourself but you just shrugged your shoulders and allowed them to slip away from you because your “friends” aren’t your biggest issue. When one of them called off the friendship right there in front of Ash she was shocked to see how you just nodded your head and dragged Ash alongside you. You did not care one bit that you lost a couple of hours friends all because of the disapproval of your relationship. Why should that affect you anyway? That just made Ash love you even more and made her feel good about herself.

🌸TODD MORRISON🌸

(Reader will be seen as a male in this certain part since I don’t want to erase Todd’s homosexuality!)

Todd is a pretty nerdy guy. He isn’t popular or anything like that—not as much as on your level of course. But somehow you loved him just for who he was and Todd loved you just as you are as well. He loves you deeply even though you two are polar opposites! Todd enjoys having a boyfriend who’s the complete opposite of him because now he has room to run his mouth about his hobbies and also teach you a thing or two about them. He loves to go on and on about these things that interest him with you because you’d just sit there and add onto it and listen to his thoughts.

Todd doesn’t really have any personal insecurities about himself that he needs to worry about with you. Todd is comfortable knowing that you won’t ever break up with him over this because you also share your own insecurities about yourself and he supports you through them. He also doesn’t have to stress over you leaving him for someone else because your heart beats for him and him only. Everyone else just likes you for your looks while Todd loves you for everything about you!

He just wants to do everything with you. He wants to have sleepovers, go out to eat, hang out, hold hands, and so much more with you because in Todd’s eyes you are perfect. You make him feel alive and better about himself and that’s what he needs in his life.

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callmemaeverick · 1 year

Text

Golden Hour - The Spy Next Door Part II [Peter Sutherland x fem!Reader]

A/N: OMG, I didn’t realize how much you guys would like this... Hahaha. I’m so grateful to those who commented and reblogged with really funny tags... I read them all, I swear so, as promised. Part 2 of The Spy Next Door. WC: 800

Part 1

It was about 5 am when you clicked off and shut down your work console that day. Sighing, you wiped your face to rid of any drowsiness. Your shift for the month had been brutal, starting from 8pm spanning all through the night. The grave yard shift, they called it.

Working as a customer service agent was not easy and it just so happened that it was one of those days where nothing went right. The worst thing was that you understood where your customers were coming from. The issues you handled on a daily basis ranged from system errors to human errors and sometimes they are just not fixable the way the customers wants it fixed. And that's when the verbal assault comes.

All through your tenure, you have been yelled at in almost every language spoke in the United States. And that's a lot. Unfortunately, you were not someone who could just brush it off immediately afterwards, though you tried to be. When this kind of shifts happened, you would make yourself a cup of coffee and climbed out onto your fire escape, sitting against the wall with your knees to your chest while you wait for the sun to rise.

Only that day, you found someone had beat you to it.

"Hey," You greeted your new favorite neighbor.

It had been about a month since he moved in and he had been nothing but the sweetest guy you've ever met. He is considerate and polite, especially around ladies and children. Once, you were returning from a jog, you and caught him leading Mrs. Fitzgerald out of the building, her arm in his as they talked softly.

It was such a small thing to do, but it warmed your heart to see such a well-raised man. The world was always lacking them.

Peter looked up at you from his perch on the stairs. He was wearing his suit still, but his tie was loosed. At that time, it was hard for you to wrap your head around the fact that he is an FBI agent working in the White House.

"Hey," He eyed you for a moment and then added. "You okay?"

You knew instantly that he overheard you working, heard your stuttering speech as you tried to calm your last customer down. Taking a seat next to him, you took a deep breath and exhaled it loudly. "Gimme a few hours."

The both of you didn't speak much and you were glad Peter didn't feel like he had to. In silence, you watched as the the sky changed from blue to purple to orange and yellow together, accompanied by the smell of the coffee from your cup. You closed your eyes for a beat and let the everything that happened during the shift go, never to bother you again.

Slowly, you felt the tension in your shoulders drift away, like sand shifting in the wind. Your thoughts went blank as the stresses of the shift disappeared into the back of your mind, allowing you a clean slate for your next one. Truth be told, aside from the high-intensity stress during your shifts, you enjoyed your job as a customer service agent. You liked helping people and it was enough that you kept going despite days like this.

The call of your name pulled you slowly back, but a part of your subconscious resisted.

"Hey, come on. Let's get you inside first." Peter's voice was very low but very close to your ear. Blinking, you realized you had begun to drift off, tilting to the side. To his side, to be specific.

When exactly you had became comfortable enough to fall asleep in his presence, you didn't know. But you had, and you hadn't regretted it.

Peter's soft laugh washed over you as he gently pushed you upright. "Hey, I can't carry you through the window. Unless you want me to drag you in."

"Just a few more minutes. I swear."

There was that laugh again, but Peter stayed put. His shoulder was comfortable, just perfect for you to rest your head on. And you did.

You didn't know exactly how long you stayed on those steps. All you know was that when you opened your eyes, the sun was bright and Peter was still beside you.

TBC

Tagging: @strnqer @thefictionalgemini

#peter sutherland #peter sutherland x reader #gabriel basso #the night agent #netflix the night agent #the night agent netflix #the spy next door series #mav's posts

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lolita-lollipop · 11 months

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could you do a platonic bakudeku taking care of/pampering depressed reader?

SOFT YANDERE AIZAWA X FEM READER

I apologize I read this ask at 4 am with no sleep and saw Aizawa, so I wrote Aizawa. If you want, put in another request and I’ll write the original

———————————————————————

Your health overall had become a stressor in Aizawas life, ever since he had gotten to know you better as a human being, it wasn't that you tried to hurt yourself, but it just seemed to happen. That worried him more often than he would like to admit.

You had come to U.A. as a teacher's aid, or a teacher in training, and were assigned to his classroom. At first, you generally kept your head down, your eyes glued to the floor, not intentionally, but you were a little uncomfortable working with somebody as world-renowned as he was. being somebody who had just graduated high school a year ago, it was strange to be in the same loop as somebody like him.

Aizawa had known that you struggled with your health constantly, both mental and physical. Even upon the first meeting, he saw glimmers of anxiety in your eyes, the picking at your skin, the biting of your nails. All things he'd seen in teens before.

He even experienced it before in his younger years, when he was in high school at UA he went through a lot and had to deal with it all by himself, too fearful of being judged to reach out for help, even from his teachers. It made him feel so connected with you, except he wouldnt give you the option of independence. Even if you hadn't openly stated that you were struggling, he always tried to make your life easier for you, just the little things that always counted.

but, while you were shy, he immediately knew the two of you would be close, you were just so young, so much younger than he was, and he felt such a pull to care for you like he would his students. You were so selfless, so optimistic. Showing up to work with little treats or a coffee for him almost every day (even with your less-than-low teachers-aid salary), being so soft-spoken when giving criticism. He would always see you with a smile on your face, and you were so willing to help anybody at any time. That worried him even more.

It hadn't taken long for you to wriggle yourself into his heart, you worked too well with his student and always were trying to improve. When the two of you became close, he started looking into your background more. Your medical records, your records with the hero association, it was for your good, partially for his curiosity. He didn't want to invade your privacy, but the way you acted was strange to him, you were social and closed off at the same time, and it confused him.

Even so, Aizawa looked forward to your daily interactions throughout the year. The way you made him lunch every day, the way you always looked to him when you had a problem, the way you hovered close to him at teacher's events and meetings. He became used to your presence, even had come to like it.

Imagine his surprise when he saw the countless therapist appointments, medications, and rehabilitation visits written across your medical records. It shocked him honestly, but as he thought about it more it made more sense, tis is why you were the way you were, and he still loved it. That's why he thought you were so likable, it just made him want to protect you more.

Your relationship with him was a little strange, at least to most others. What kind of pro hero just becomes best friends with a quirkless teacher aide like you? He did everything with you, lunch, teaching, and sometimes even on weekends the two of you would hang out. You and Aizawa became very very close very very fast, of course, neither of you minded.

He ended up playing somewhat of a fatherly role to you, helping you when you were hurt, paying for meals when the two of you went out, and caring for you. Eventually, you trusted him enough to reveal the issues you dealt with on the daily.

Your vulnerability with him was cute honestly, the way you were so willing to share your deepest emotions and fears with him.

You told him everything that’s happened, everything that’s caused you to be like this. And he listened, he listened well and hard, and made you feel accepted and loved. Your relationship escalated from there. He was the first person you would call when you needed help, the first person to cry to, to laugh with. eventually, you realized that you loved him. NOT LIKE THAT. But you loved him.

As a child your parents paid no attention to you, from the day you were born they wrote you off as a nuisance, leaving you to fend for yourself from the moment you were able to speak. It made you grow up too fast, having somebody like him was nice for a change.

So when your teacher's aid year ended, and you had to go back to school, you were devastated. That was the first time you had ever cried to Aizawa, and it showed you just how kind he could be. From then on you knew that you would last with him, teacher's aid or not. And so you moved back to your old apartment near your little teaching school, it had taken every ounce of self-control for him to not move with you.

As months passed by he visited often, but slowly, he started to see you change. It was slight at first, just having less energy when you spoke with him, but slowly it ascended into so much more. Your life was all of a sudden so filled with stress, school overloaded your life, and it taxed your health, mental and physical. He watched as your nails slowly became more gnawed down, your skin getting more and more picked at, your eye bags becoming darker and darker. His worry grew with every day that you failed to call him.

Sometimes it would get bad enough that he would force you to accept his help, whether it be money or food or clothing, or even just a place to stay, he would make you accept it, even if you didn't want to. Aizawa just couldn't fathom why you wanted to be so independent, he suggested you move in with him so he could watch over you, but you had denied it quickly, explaining how you "needed to do this on your own".

He found himself feeling responsible for you. You didn't know how to take care of yourself, not in his eyes, it was only natural, you hadn’t grown up with much guidance towards self-care (as you had told him in a moment of vulnerability). So he would help you. It became somewhat of a routine for him to check on your well-being, sending a text at noon every single day just to make sure you're okay. It comforted both of you.

But, as time passed, school and work filled both of your schedules to the brim, and you never had time to travel across town to each other. So you slowly drifted; it started as days without talking to each other, but days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. At some point, he realized that he hadn't even checked in on you for 5 months.

After coming to that realization his worry washed over him once again, cold flowed from his head to his feet. You weren't ready to be alone, oh god what had he done?

He hadn't seen you in months, however, it felt like years, knowing that, he couldn't even imagine how you were feeling. The last time he had seen you, you had been doing well, eating and sleeping healthily, you seemed alright, so he felt okay in leaving you for a long period of time.

He should've kept a closer watch on you when he was away, he should've monitored the bank account he had set up for you, and he should've checked the cameras outside your apartment more. It used to be comforting for him to take a break from his life and check in on you, when did he start forgetting? Was he that bad of a best friend? He needed to see you. now.

And so, after 6 months shouts Aizawa was standing at the entrance to your apartment complex. Staring at the dirt growing thick on the exterior, the windows that had grown foggy and unclear with age.

Walking up the front steps, he observed just how quiet it was, the atmosphere was almost unsettling with how abnormally silent it was., you had refused to let him buy you a nice apartment near the urban areas of the city, so you lived near the rural edge in the older areas. The entire district was old and only growing older, crime rates were spiking, and buildings were slowly breaking down. This particular building was aging with every day. Paint chipping, door handles rusting, the elevator no longer was even in service.

He stared up the long flights of stairs, each step sad and grey and growing rust at the edges, even though they weren't metal. Imagining you have to make the climb to the seventh floor every day, Aizawa sighed. He honestly doesn’t know why you would choose to do this to yourself.

As he began to ascend the steps, he realized just how dingy the place was, the steps were concrete yet they were still able to squeak with every time he put a foot forward. There was a faint smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol in the air, combined with body odor and the smell of mildew, this place was just sad and lonely. Even the lights were going out, flickering and glowing a dirty yellow. The last time he was here the building wasn't in this bad of a condition.

By the time he was able to make it up to your apartment, his pity had grown severely. Why were you living like this? Why would he let you live like this? He felt at fault, one of the top heroes and he couldn't even manage to put his best friend in a nice apartment, even if they didn't want to be there. He wouldnt let you live here anymore, not when it was this bad. With that, he left three firm knocks on the door, the paint was chipping down, revealing old rotting wood.

The sound rang out through the hallway, cutting through the heavy air. When you didn't answer he knocked again, this time louder, and the sound reverberated across the large piece of wood again. He knew your doorbell didn't work, last time the two of you talked you told him allllllllllll about how you'd been trying to get maintenance to fix it, they were refusing. How long ago was that? It should've been fixed by now, he knew it probably wasn't though.

After the second knock, he pulled the spare key from above the doorframe, such an obvious place to hide a key, it was a wonder your home hadn't been broken into yet, even though he told you to move it elsewhere you hadn't. You were stubborn like that sometimes, he couldn't help that he loved it. The door unlocked fairly quickly, after a few harsh shoves to un-jam it, something you also had mentioned last time he talked to you. Something that was still not fixed.

he pushed the door open slowly, and a loud creak rang out. the rough feeling of the doorknob against his fingers was sandy and divoted. The silence in the room was louder than anything else. looking back at the door he saw almost four new locks that weren't there last time he was there.

“Y/n? I figured I should stop by, I was in town.” He yelled through the apartment door, loud enough to inform you of his presence but not loud enough to startle you, he was met with nothing more than the clanking of your air conditioning.

The stench hit him before anything else did, smelling like somebody died and then was resurrected only to die again in here, the scent was strong enough to make him have a double take. Usually, you were very clean, obsessing over the cleanliness of your apartment, even if it was old and rotting. It was strange enough that you hadn't answered the door when he knocked, but now not answering his call? Something was wrong.

“Y/n? Are you here?” he continued, stepping further into the small room with a grimace, it was a mess, not dirty, but cluttered everywhere, like you had stopped caring where things go. This was already a bad sign, last time your apartment looked like you weren't doing very well. Aizawa knew that he should've checked in on you sooner, he was trying to let you have a little space to feel independent, but he shouldn't have.

Hurriedly he rushed to your bedroom to check if you were even here, and what he saw horrified him. Upon opening your door he was hit again with the same smell, this time just a thousand times more concentrated. The sight of your room was just awful, he'd seen some bad things, but it's different when it's you. Clothing was strewn everywhere in large piles, packets of ramen and other instant foods lay discarded beside the bed, and some of the picture frames that were hung on the walls had fallen to the floor. Your room wasn't very large in the first place, so the trash and clothing crowded the space, making the air even denser.

It took him a few moments to realize that you were here, just buried under months of trash. You were hidden under a crevice in your bed, sleeping so heavily it worried him. Immediately he moved to get you out, shoving all the stuff off of you and looping his arm under your waist to hoist you up, you were lighter, frailer. Your breathing was shallow, almost like you were struggling to inhale and exhale a sufficient amount. He cupped your head on his shoulder and hurried out of your bedroom.

He frowned at your state, you hadn't been eating well, even though he made sure you set reminders for yourself every day. Your clothing looked baggy and dirty, your eyes sunken in and glued shut, and your hair. Oh god your hair, he could tell it hadn't been brushed in quite some time, you had it tied back but he could still see the knots starting at your scalp. How had it gotten this bad? More importantly, why hadn't you called him? He was supposed to be there for you, but clearly, he wasn't.

“Y/n, Y/n cmon I need you to wake up sweetheart, please. Open those eyes for me, I know you can do it.” he practically begged, cupping your head with his hand and holding you up to get a better look at you. He shook you gently and watched as you stirred. Groaning in your sleep, your eyes groggily fluttered open, you brought your hand up to rub the sleep haze out of your vision, only to realize you were in the grasp of somebody else. You let out a startled squeak and sent your hands flying out in front of you to push the person off, then you were reminded how exhausted your body was, as even that small motion brought pain bursting through your fingertips.

“Whoah- whoah it's okay- y/n it's me, it's me- I’m not going to hurt you- you're okay-” he stammered out soothing words, and one of his hands immediately went out to grasp your own, holding them still. He wasn't worried about you hurting him, you probably couldn't even if you wanted to, he was worried about you hurting yourself. Upon realizing that it was your best friend, and not an intruder aiming to do horrible things, you relaxed in his arms, finding comfort in physical touch for the first time in months. God you missed this, more than anything.

“Why didn't you tell me you were coming around? I would've cleaned up,” you spoke, your voice hoarse and raspy, almost like you hadn't been using it that often. You met his gaze, and he stared back with this sympathetic look you had grown to know so well, immediately your eyes found the floor, embarrassed. You knew that it meant he was going to lecture you about something, and you could predict the words that would come out of his mouth before he even spoke.

“I figured it would be alright if I came in like I usually did… Y/n we need to talk- are you okay? This-this is bad, worse than last time- I told you to call me if you were feeling like this anymore, I know how you get.” he lectured with that mother hen tone he always had with you, aizawa was always so caring, so soft. Not to anybody other than you, but that's how you knew him. With his words, you found your lip wobbling, and little tears pooling in your eyes. You didn't know how to tell him anything when he was making that face at you, the pity stare, so you buried your head further into his shoulder and spoke.

“I just- I thought you would get mad at me- I was doing so good last time and I just went back and made it all I jus-” You stammered out, tears now streaming down your cheeks and onto his shirt, around halfway through your voice broke into a sob. You knew that he would have to come some time or another but you hadn't expected your emotions to just flow out entirely like this. Little sobs left your mouth to the point that you couldn't keep speaking, he rubbed circles into your lower back, bouncing up and down a little to calm you, or at least try.

“I would never- NEVER. Baby you can't live like this, I can't let you live like this.” He pulled your head from the nook in his shoulder, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“I know. I just- I just didn't know how to fix it- and I didn't want to make you upset so I just let it- Don't be mad- please” You couldn't even control what you were saying anymore, your words just flew out o your mouth faster than you could think of them.

“It's okay- I’m here now. You won't have to worry anymore okay? I'll make it better, I'll help you get through this. You're alright.” He confirmed, all he wanted to do right now was make you feel okay, as you didn't. He wouldnt leave you alone again, he wouldnt dare. You've never scared him like this, it's never been this bad. Hell take of you, he has to now.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, you crying into his shoulder, and him rubbing your back and holding you close. After a minute or two he set you on the ground, keeping a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the door. You followed blindly, too caught up in your crying to care about where your feet were taking you. You leaned into him naturally, clutching him close.

The trek down the hallway was slow and painstakingly quiet, by the time you reached the stairs he had you in his arms again. You were barefoot, and the last thing he wanted was for you to nick your foot on anything in the carpet, especially when you were so fragile, so frail. He wouldnt let anything hurt you now, not even the carpet.

You were his responsibility now, fully his responsibility. Seeing how you are right now, how unstable, how fragile, he HAS to protect you, he just can't let you hurt like this. Such a sweet girl in such a large amount of pain, it almost makes him angry. Not at you, at the world for doing this to you.

He will protect you now

He has to

"so- um. Ya like jazz?" you let out a sad giggle through your tears, and he smirked. you weren't used to being so serious with him.

---

It took you a very long time to stop your crying, long enough that you had gotten into his car with him, and he began to drive. Where? You had no clue, but you knew he would only mean the best for you. The entire time he was comforting you in the car, when he wasn't sending worried glances he was giving you words of encouragement.

You didn't know what to say anymore, you and Aizawa have been close for quite some time, and naturally as a teacher he cared for you like one of his students, you were close in age, a little bit older than the kids he cared for. He has seen you at your lowest lows… clearly… but you don't think he's ever seen you this bad before, you honestly don't think you've seen yourself this bad before.

All you wanted to do was prove to yourself that you could handle this like an adult, that's why you never called or reached out, you just wanted to feel mature enough to handle your own issues. Without somebody forcing you to handle them.

“I am sorry- I didn't mean to scare you I know it's worse than last time- I can take care of myself I swear, you don't have to do anything” You muttered, bringing your knees up to your chest in the leather seat, usually Aizawa would lecture you if you did this because he always said it was “unsafe”, he didn't say anything this time. Right now you just felt embarrassed, you had just collapsed on him entirely.

“Don't apologize, it isn't your fault. You're gonna be okay, ill make sure.” his words were blunt (as usual, but more comforting than anything else he has ever said to you before, he made it sound more like a promise than a statement. He reached over and placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze before returning to his normal driving. The atmosphere remained comfortably quiet for a few more moments before you decided to speak again.

“so.. . where are we going?” You asked, hoping it was someplace nice, away from all your responsibilities. you weren't opposed to going to his house, but you knew that if you did, you would cave in even more. Meaning your independence would revert to how it was.

“Home. “

—————————————

I’m back lol. It’s been a while so I hope this was good, I have felt with some mental instability in the past so o tried to use my knowledge from my own personal expierience here, don’t come for me if it doesn’t fit your own.

Tysm for requesting! I’m so excited to start writing again. Love you all! And have a great day!

Bye!

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captainkingsley · 7 months

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hi this is my 'official' donation post, since I want it to be presentable

I'm currently about 3k in debt with medical bills. About 2k is for the actual surgery I recently got (after my appendix revolted against me), then about 500 for the anaesthesiologist and radiologist, and another 600 for the medical bills I had last year that have gone into collections.

(For the same issue, just before it got serious enough for surgery. Chronic appendicitis is, apparently, a thing, and I had it for over a year. I could rant about that experience but I won't do it here.)

Anything at all helps, even just $5! That's a daily bus ticket for me to get to my job!

And if you want something for it, I'm more than happy to do commissions, design adoptables, or even just make a quick drawing of your favorite character. I also have stickers on my new Etsy, and once I can get the ability to print proper shipping labels (I need a printer for that) I plan to sell custom dice and jewelry.

#no idea how to tag this but uh. hi

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thebibutterflyao3 · 3 months

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Day 30 - Prompt: After @wolfstarmicrofic

January Daily Series - 549 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

An awkward morning after was rarely an issue for Sirius, mostly because he never stayed overnight. He knew that he was a nightmare in the mornings, especially with a hangover. James generally avoided him until after he’d downed a massive cup of coffee and a pastry.

Today was different. Instead of waking up to a slobbery kiss from Padfoot or the sounds of James’s failed attempts to do literally anything quietly, he was met with a soft snore against his collarbone and a halo of curls warmed by a stray sun beam peeking between the blinds of Remus’s window. It was the perfect way to wake up, in his opinion. He certainly didn’t mind being Remus’s pillow if it meant he had unfettered access to these lovely curls.

Sirius was careful not to disturb him as he gently stroked through the golden-tipped ends, looping them around his fingers. Internally, he promised the strands that he would clean up the mess Remus made of them. They deserved better than an amateurish hack-job.

Not that he could truly chastise Remus for the state they were in, even if it was his fault. Everyone had their priorities, and if it just so happened that salvaging Remus’s curls had become one of his, then so be it. He was overdue for a new hyperfixation anyway, and he doubted Remus would mind.

A buzzing near his head drew his attention to the nightstand. One of their phones was going off, but he couldn’t tell which one. He reached out for the one in a gold case and eyed the screen. It was still early and James was checking in. He’d probably just started his morning run.

Jameson: morning ☀️

Jameson: all good?

Siriusly: Better than.

Jameson: Lucky you. 😉

Siriusly: Don’t pretend you didn’t take advantage of my absence.

Jameson: A gentleman would never kiss and tell. 🤐

Siriusly: Good answer. Keep it that way.

Jameson: 🫡

He set the phone back on the table and ignored the nagging feeling in his gut. James assumed that he’d gone ahead and shagged Remus despite his insistence that he was going to go slow this time. The fact that he was sorely tempted last night was hardly the point. His best friend should have more faith in his resolve.

As a matter of fact, Sirius thought he deserved an award for his performance. Playing coy was not his forte. Especially after Remus offered to “shag him senseless.” He’d wanted nothing more than to climb into Remus’s lap and ride him.

That wasn’t the point of all this though. He’d wanted to see for himself what Remus would do if he said “no.” There were a fair few blokes who would have kicked him out, or tried to change his mind, but not Remus. Instead, he was so absurdly kind about the whole thing that it had taken every ounce of self-control Sirius had not to pounce on him right then.

Remus mumbled in his sleep and hugged Sirius’s waist a bit tighter. He looked so sweet draped over him like this. A delightfully warm blanket of Remus was doing wonders for his attitude this morning.

Sirius closed his eyes and smiled to himself. He could get used to this.

Next Part>>>

#wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #the marauders

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porterdavis · 1 year

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"A Test of Character"

Tom Nichols is a conservative writer who spent 20+ years as an instructor at the Naval War College, not a particular bastion of left-wing loonies. His article for The Atlantic is behind a paywall, but available for free if you subscribe to one of the magazine's newsletters, so I don't think it's totally out of bounds to reprint it here. It's a #long-read, but worth every second of your time.

(tl;dr -- we face a moral character test for the second time in seven years. We failed miserably the first time)

"Donald Trump went to CPAC and gave a speech that was, even by his delusional standards, dark and violent. Much of it was hallucinatory. Amusing as it is to listen to President von Munchausen and his many “sir” stories, Trump is the former commander in chief of the U.S. armed forces and the current front-runner for the Republican nomination in 2024. He is as dangerous as ever to our democracy and to our national security.

But I also want to turn attention from Trump’s evident emotional issues to consider a more unsettling question: How, in 2023, after all we know about this man and his attacks on our government and our Constitution, do we engage the people who heard that speech and support Donald Trump’s candidacy? How do we turn the discussion away from partisanship and toward good citizenship—and to the protection of our constitutional order?

In the past, reporters have approached such questions gingerly, poking their head into coffee shops, asking for comments at rallies, and claiming to overhear conversations at gas stations, all in the service of trying to understand Trump voters. (Only The Daily Show’s Jordan Klepper has ever managed to get anywhere in such interviews, and the answers he elicits are often terrifyingly dumb.) These respectful conversations with Trump voters have produced almost nothing useful beyond failed theories about “economic anxiety” and other rationalizations that capture little about why Trump voters continue to support a posse of authoritarian goons.

In 2016, Trump supporters could lean on a slew of hopeful arguments: Trump is just acting; he’ll hire professional staff; the “good” Republicans will keep him in line; the job will sober him up. All of these would be disproved over time. (It didn’t help that the alternative at the time was Hillary Clinton, for whom I voted but whose campaign was a tough sell to many people.) But by 2020, Trump, along with his enablers at Fox and other right-wing outlets, had created a kind of impermeable anti-reality field around the GOP base. This shell of pure denial defeated almost any argument about anything.

Media, flummoxed by having a sociopathic narcissist in the Oval Office, treated Trump like a normal political leader, and soon we all—even me—became accustomed to the fact that the president of the United States routinely sounded like the guy at the end of the bar who makes you decide to take your drink over to a table or a booth. When Joe Biden won, I hoped that this strange fever gripping so many Americans would finally pass. But the fever did not break, not even after January 6, 2021, and the many hearings that showed Trump’s responsibility for the events of that black day.

And now Trump has kicked off his attempt to regain office with a litany of lunacy. His speech at CPAC has been recounted by my Atlantic colleagues; John Hendrickson notes Trump’s return to the classics of grievance, and McKay Coppins describes how Trump has managed to become part of the typically boring CPAC kitsch.

But we shouldn’t mistake Trump’s gibbering for harmless political glossolalia. As Charlie Sykes said this morning, CPAC is “a serious threat masquerading as a cultic circus cum clown car,” and revealed “what a Trump 2.0 would look like.” This is a former president whose pitch included “I am your retribution.” Retribution for what, exactly, was left unsaid, but revenge for being turned out of office is likely high on the list. The Trumpian millennium turned into a tawdry four years of grubby incompetence and an ignominious loss. If Trump wins again, there will be a flurry of pardons, the same cast of miscreants will return to Pennsylvania Avenue, and, this time, they won’t even pretend to care about the Constitution or the rule of law.

Imagine an administration where we’ll all be nostalgic for the high-mindedness of Bill Barr.

Trump also reminded us that he is an existential menace to our national security. He reveled in a story he first told last spring—almost certainly a fiction—about how he informed a meeting of NATO leaders that he would let the Russians roll over them if they weren’t paid up. (Trump still thinks NATO is a protection racket.) He then fantasized about how easily a Russian attack could destroy NATO’s headquarters.

We’ve all cataloged this kind of Trumpian weirdness many times, and I still feel pity for the fact-checkers who try to keep up with him. But I wonder if there is any point. By now it should be clear that the people listening to Trump don’t care about facts, or even about policy or politics. They enjoy the show, and they want it back on TV for another four years. And this is a problem not with Trump but with the voters.

It is long past time to admit that support for Trump, after all that we now know, is a moral failing. As I wrote in a recent book, there is such a thing as being a bad citizen in a democracy, and we should cease the pretend arguments about policy—remember, the 2020 GOP convention didn’t even bother with a platform. Instead, anyone who cares about the health of American democracy, of any party or political belief, should say clearly that to applaud Trump’s fantasies and threats at CPAC is to show an utter lack of civic character. (I might say that it is no better than applauding David Duke, but why invoke the former KKK leader when Trump has already had dinner with Nick Fuentes, a white supremacist who he seems to think is a swell guy?)

The man who bellowed and sweated his way through almost two hours of authoritarian madness is still the same man who instigated an attack on our Capitol (and on his own vice president), the man who would hand our allies to Russia if they’re behind on the vig, the man who thinks a free press is his enemy, the man who tried to wave away a pandemic as thousands and thousands of Americans died.

Stigma and judgment have a place in politics. There was a time when we forced people out of public life for offenses far less than Donald Trump’s violent and seditious corruption. We were a better country for it, and returning to that better time starts with media outlets holding elected Republicans to account for Trump’s statements—but also with each of us refusing to accept rationalizations and equivocation from even our friends and family. I said in 2016 that the Trump campaign was a test of character, and that millions of us were failing it. The stakes are even clearer and steeper now; we cannot fail this test again."

#tom nichols #the atlantic

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hypnoneghoul · 11 months

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would you write more about rain having eds and pots? maybe something with them having issues while touring?

oooo i do have a lot of thoughts about that, thank you for the ask. under the cut!

I feel like they are barely even there most of the tour. First week, maybe two, is decent, but later? Nuh-uh, Rain is holding up on iced coffee and cuddles alone.

Being exhausted is their constant state of being on a daily basis, with pots, but with how little low quality sleep they are getting on tour and the driving, flying, rehearsing and playing and all that? Dead ghoul walking, dizzy and nauseous ALL the time. You try to talk to them and they aren't looking at you? Yeah, they can't see you because the world is black and spinning constantly. That's why on tour Rain never goes anywhere alone, stumbling over their own feet, missing the door walking into a wall or just trying to go through it closed. Situations where they're chatting with someone and they are just like "yeah, i think- THUMP" and Rain's casually on the floor.

Usually they still sleep the most, in the makeshift nest on the back of a bus, a privilege they and Mountain (he doesn't fit into the bunks) have, even when the rest of the ghouls is up and running around. They wake Rain up only for the show and basically drag them onto the stage. We all know how Rain is on it, getting cockier with every show, seemingly having all the energy they need and more but its just the adrenaline and fear of disappointing the fans. During bows they fully rely on Swiss by their side to not pass out with the movement of bending in half. As soon as Rain steps foot on the backstage their knees buckle and they just fold, passing out immediately. Usually Swiss or Mountain is there to catch them, scoop them up and tuck away into the safety of their bus.

Regarding eds, I feel like they are totally overworked, joints locking and popping out twenty times a day. Rain is basically covered in kinesiology tape, tho it barely makes any difference. Their surviving on tour fully depends on Aether with his massages and quintessence. There isn't much to say about how they're doing during the shows in general, we all see knees locking and buckling, ankles overbending, constant tripping, 'subtle' massaging their joints on breaks, etc.

Rain is a wreck by the time they get back to the ministry, and then they sleep. Basically 24/7 for two weeks, getting out only to go the bathroom, usually not even on their own feet but carried. With how much they love bass, they can't even look at it for weeks, hands so overworked from the months of shows.

@ominousposting (tagging you as usual in eds/pots stuff, tho please tell me if you don't like when I do that)

#rain ghoul #hypnone's headcannons #hypnone's asks #eds and pots rain #hypnone's disabled ghouls

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daddymilker691 · 9 months

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Well my lovely loyal readers of your fave naughty paper me and my lovely Co Editor Miss Dawn Green see above photo have been very busy here at the Daily Milker in our new offices in Holborn and we certainly have been a couple of busy bees preparing for our newest edition as always we strive to bring you beauty with a smattering of humour and lots of razzle dazzle we are both nearly ready for the midweek edition to go out dear readers and it will be a full package how could it not when it features Janablack and Jodie Hot Sauce , but dear readers it will also feature two new page five stars yes two new page five stars and of course some more of Sandra Claphams charms we aim to please Dawn makes the stars coffee and puts them at ease I take the photos and deliciously get to milk our wonderful page five stars in order too make them feel at ease and put them into a great state of mind don’t miss this issue it’s cumming very soon one to hide from your wives gfs , Love from me and Dawn

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satankilledmyghost · 2 years

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next to me - donald na x reader

a/n: i've finally written something!!! *insert celebratory dance here* i tried to write a whole one shot?? thing? idk what to call it. also, i put female reader down just because i feel like with how i wrote this, it’s more suited for a female reader. but there’s no mention of gender or pronouns, just one use of the word ‘skirt’ so if that doesn’t bother you, this is for all. enjoy!

not important at all but this is one of my fav pics of donald i’m too obsessed with him omfg look at how he’s so fucking annoyed i just wanna hold his face and tell him how pretty he is and i’m rambling so i’ll shut up now

warnings: swearing, female reader, mentions of low test grades

“DONALD!” You exclaimed, bursting into his office. Donald lifted his head up from whatever he was working on at his desk and watched as you shut the door behind you and put your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. “Give me a second. I ran here.” You said between gasps of air, holding up a finger.

The corner of Donald’s mouth quirked up for a split second at seeing your frenzied state, then he turned back to his work. A minute later, you straightened yourself, fixed your uniform skirt, and skipped happily over to his desk, a giant smile on your face and your eyes shining with excitement. “Can I interrupt you for a quick second?”

You always felt like you had to ask. Though you’ve never seen him get angry, you could practically feel the danger vibrating from his aura on a daily basis.

“Technically, you already did when you ran in here like a wild animal, but go ahead.” You made a face at Donald’s comment and pushed a packet of paper into his line of sight. “Look! I actually did well on the math test we just had!”

You have always struggled with math and Donald had offered to help you study for the upcoming test when he had breaks in his day. It was gruesome having him as your tutor, but it all paid off when you finally scored above an 80%. You’ve always averaged in the mid to high 60’s, so this was a major improvement.

“I got an 83%! Isn’t that crazy? I totally thought I’d be worse.” You say cheerily. “I honestly couldn’t have passed without your help, so thank you! You’re fucking magic.” You said, smiling at Donald.

He didn’t know what to say. Though you always beam at his intellect, you constantly find ways to fluster him. “That’s great, y/n. Congratulations.” You hummed and shoved the test back into your bag.

“Whatcha working on today?” You asked, heading over to your spot on one of the couches. You’ve made it a habit to always go to Donald’s office when you both were free and you needed a quiet place to study.

“Just paperwork.” You looked back at Donald knowingly. “Did someone do something again?”

“Not really. I had Jake go across the river to retrieve a contract and it caused a fight between us and Cheongang. The company was being stubborn and caused this mess so now I have to deal with the documents to fix their issues.” Donald replied while writing something down.

You tilted your head, your eyebrows furrowing. You had finished setting yourself up for a couple hours of studying, your books and papers on the coffee table already, but you chose to forget about them for now. “Cheongang? I’ve never heard of them.”

“They’re an organization that’s on their second generation already. They’re in charge across the river- business and streets.” “So kinda like you?” Donald nearly glares at you, clearly offended and your eyes widen. “What? Aren’t they similar to the Union if they’re in charge of businesses and the streets? Is that a bad thing?” You try to save yourself.

Donald sighs and drops his pencil. “When you put it like that, yes, we’re similar. But my Union is nowhere near the level of inferiority of those boomers.” Donald’s eyes darken and you nod. “Gotcha.” You murmur, finally turning to your work.

Unbeknownst to you, Donald was watching as you got to work on your studies. He had to admit, having you hanging around in his office at first annoyed the hell out of him. He wasn’t used to a constant presence in his space. And it’s not like he could ask you to leave, you only came over when you knew he didn’t have any meetings and you always kept silent and to yourself.

But the more you came over, the more those afternoons gradually grew on him. Donald had eventually warmed up to your company, finding comfort in knowing it isn’t just him alone in his office all the time.

You always kept to yourself and only interacted with him when you absolutely couldn’t understand something.

Then, you’d walk up to his desk and he’d raise a pierced brow, silently asking you what was up. You’d quietly explain what you were working on and how you just couldn’t understand it no matter how hard you tried and that you need his help. Donald would then stop whatever he was working on and explain it to you, made sure you understood it, and then watched as you did the rest on your own.

When you would finish, you’d show Donald your completed work and silently watch him as you anxiously wait for his feedback. He’d glance over your work, and he’d point out what you did that needed fixing and sent you off to retry it.

If your work was executed perfectly, he’d express his approval with a simple, “looks good.” and immediately turn back to his own work.

Donald would never miss how you bit your lip to repress the smile that would follow those two words and he would watch out of the corner of his eye as you returned happily back to your spot on his couch, moving onto the next thing you needed to do.

And then there were those days where you didn’t have any work to complete but you would still come over. You’d end up sitting on the couch either taking a nap or scrolling through your phone, making small talk with Donald once in a while. He loved those days.

The longer this went on, the more you began to have an affect on Donald. Now he found himself looking forward to seeing you whenever you said that you were able to stop by. You were a drug to him, and he was unknowingly becoming an addict.

Donald even went as far as to reschedule a meeting one time just because you hadn’t been able to hang out with him in a while and this was the first day that you were finally free. That was when he started to realize his affection towards you.

He always hides it whenever he’s around you, but it’s you. And Donald is slowly losing more of his control. It’s only a matter of time before he can’t take you two just being friends anymore.

#weak hero #donald na #weak hero webtoon #weak hero x reader #donald na x reader

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lillywillow · 2 years

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Childhood Friends

Summary: When you moved to San Fransisco for a new job, you bumped into the last person you ever thought you would see again; your long-lost childhood companion Eddie Brock

Word Count: 1118

Pairings: Eddie Brock x Chubby!Female Reader

Warnings: Some body issues, fluff, mild swear words

A/N: Requested by a wonderful Nonnie

When you were a child, your best friend was a boy named Eddie Brock. You did everything together. When you were a teenager, your family moved away, leaving you heartbroken but on your very last day in town, you and Eddie went to a carnival where he won you a stuffed panda. Sadly, over the years, you lost touch with your friend but that little teddy bear was your most prized possession.

…

It was a brisk San Fransisco morning and you were getting a coffee to energise yourself before a busy day of carting boxes into your new apartment. You were so lost in your own thoughts that you failed to see the person standing behind you and you collided with them.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see where I was going and I…”

“Y/N? Is that you?”

It took you a few minutes to figure out who this mystery man was.

“Eddie? Eddie Brock?”

He grinned and nodded. You couldn’t hold back the squeal of delight as you threw your arms around him.

“I can’t believe it’s really you. What are you doing here?” Eddie asked.

“I live here now. I was just getting coffee…”

You felt heat flood your face as you looked at the mess you had made on Eddie’s shirt.

“I’ll pay for that to be washed…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged. “So, do you need any help moving or are you still getting settled in?”

“As I was saying, I was just on my way up to move boxes,” you went on to explain.

“I’m not doing anything right now. I could give you a hand,” he offered.

“No, no, I couldn’t, especially after I spilled coffee all over you,” you protested.

“Please, it’s the least I could do for an old friend. We could get to know each other again and catch up,” he smiled.

…

It took you a while but with Eddie’s help, you soon had all of your boxes of belongings inside your new apartment and you were sure without his help it would have taken you longer. As you worked, you caught up Eddie’s life since you left and you told him about yours. When he left, you couldn’t help feeling a spark between the two of you. Before you left, you thought that Eddie would be your first boyfriend but that never happened. It didn’t help that he had grown into such an attractive adult. You had dated here and there but you could never find someone quite like Eddie. Another thing that affected your dating life was your insecurities about your looks. Between the stresses of daily life and a medical condition, you had put on a bit of weight. It wasn’t the weight itself that bothered you so much as it was the jerks who teased you about it. You just wished you could find someone who didn’t care about the superficial stuff. Maybe even someone like Eddie.

…

It had taken some time to get your apartment just the way you wanted it but once the furniture was in place (with a little help from Eddie) and all your homey touches had been arranged, you invited Eddie over for a celebratory dinner. It was just over six when Eddie arrived carrying a small potted flower.

“I got you a house warming present,” he smiled.

“Aw, thank you. That’s so thoughtful,” you smiled back. “Come in and make yourself comfortable.”

As you went to put the plant near your kitchen window, Eddie looked around your home.

“You’ve really done the place up,” he stated, walking around and admiring your photos and trinkets.

“Just a few little touches here and there, nothing too big,” you replied, preparing to set out dinner.

As Eddie wandered into your bedroom, the first thing he saw was the panda he won for you all those years ago sitting proudly on your bed. He tenderly picked up the teddy and brought it out to you.

“I can’t believe you still have this…”

You looked up from what you were doing to see your friend holding your treasured companion.

“Of course… Eduardo has been with me everywhere,” you softly stated, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Eduardo?” he mused with a grin.

“Yeah… um… I kind of… named him after you…”

Eddie looked at the little panda in his hands and saw that it had been clearly loved throughout all these years.

“I missed you a lot when we moved away, Eddie. Whenever I was feeling sad or down about something, I’d just hold Eduardo close and I’d remember all the good times we had together… He helped me get through some difficult times,” you confessed.

Eddie gently placed Eduardo on a nearby bench and hugged you close. You hugged back, breathing in his familiar scent.

“You’re still just as beautiful as I remember you…”

His words caught you off guard.

“You… you think I’m beautiful?”

“Of course. I wanted to ask you out when we were kids but I got scared you’d say no… but I’m older now, so… will you go out with me?” he asked hopefully.

Tears began to blur your vision.

“Eddie, look at me. I… I’m not… I’m not the same girl I was when we were kids. I… I’ve changed,” you muttered, trying to push him away.

“You’re still the same to me. Same great smile, same eyes that light up when you get excited, same amazing laugh,” he said, taking your face in his hands.

“But… what about the weight I put on?” you asked, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Who cares about crap like that? I sure don’t. Nobody’s perfect, Y/N and we’ve all got our own insecurities…”

Without thinking, you crashed your lips to his, holding his face in your hands as tears began to flow. Eddie was a little surprised at first but slowly kissed back, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close to his body.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise,” he breathed as he pulled away for air. “So, will you be my girlfriend?”

All you could do was nod, your head still spinning from the incredibleness of it all; Eddie had gone from your childhood friend to man of your dreams and boyfriend just like that. You couldn’t help but think if Eduardo somehow had something to do with it.

#Marvel #Request #Marvel fic #eddie brock #Eddie Brock x Reader #chubby reader #Teddy Bear #fluff #Childhood Friends

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knavestrolls · 4 months

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Baffled

Each night starts the same.

A breakfast of suspicious bottled thick liquid and a new slice just deep enough to scar. It always hurts and her attacker never apologies for it. Any escape attempt just gets her a broken bone that leaves her in agonizing pain until the angel arrives later at night. The angel always brings her a full home cooked meal, the worst coffee Althea has ever tasted in her life, and an almost full heal. Each night ends the same way, with the angel and devil arguing incomprehensibly just outside the door she can’t open without receiving a broken leg.

She’s lost track of how many days she’s spent here. Originally, she counted them. After around the second week she’d given such things up. Instead she turned her mind to other things, to her broken phone. Would anyone even realize she was gone? It wasn’t unusual for her to go radio silent, especially in her lows.. But it’d been weeks? A month? Surely, someone would know? Surely someone would care? Althea couldn’t convince herself it was true.

Maybe by the time she got out, she’d be single again. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d lost a quad to a kidnapping. Nor was this the longest she’d been kidnapped yet. Hell, her kidnappers were almost kind in comparison to things she’d gone through before.. Aside from the whole breaking her legs, of course. Maybe her mother was tired of paying out for a fucked up mutant daughter. Maybe the rest of her life would be right here in this room. She had no way to know, and she’d given up on hope ages ago.

Tonight, though. Tonight was different.

No one was there when she woke up. There was no liquid breakfast, no strange masked man. There wasn’t even a light on above her, which she had always assumed had been just a timer-based one. There wasn’t even noise she could hear. Slowly, hesitantly, she stood on shaky feet. The door wasn’t ever locked, not since the first day she’d been dragged in here. Althea moved slowly towards the door, pulling it open and waiting. No one came. No man just sort of appeared there to break her legs. Instead, there was just an open hallway. With no other way to turn, she began to walk quietly as she could through the place.

Turning the corner she was greeted with something she assumed was just some sort of smog cloud. It reminded her of when an old yellow-blooded quad had overheated their psionics and ended up smoking- which was exactly why she gave the smog a second glance. Just barely she could make out the vague shape of a man within it, and when she got close enough she could hear the soft groans of pain. It wasn’t hard to recognize the armor of the man who harmed her every night but also kept her fed, bathed, and clothed. This was a fucked up relationship between them, and this was her perfect chance to escape. The angel only ever came late, there’d be no one to stop her from just leaving right now.

Except herself, as it turned out.

As Althea stared at the figure clearly in agonizing pain, she found she didn’t have the strength to leave him. Even if it meant that she’d end up back within that room. She was too used to the daily rising pains to ever leave someone else in that state- especially someone who’s quad had been actively taking away her pain nightly. In a fucked up way, she almost felt she owed the angel enough to save this man. The real question was how? She didn’t know where to go to get the angel, and she didn’t have a way to know what was wrong with him. If it was a psionic issue, there’d have to be some sort of mind honey to find. Or sopor in a bad pinch but that was far too dangerous. A glow caught her eye. She couldn’t fully make it out within the smog, so she acted without thinking.

Althea dragged her nail along the most recent scab on her arm, forcing it open. When it began to bleed, she shakily held it out roughly over what she assumed was the figure’s face. For a second, she worried she was wrong. That she was just going to be aimlessly bleeding out over a corpse. Then the figure sprang up- biting into her arm where it bled. She had to bite back a moan- it seemed she really did need to get Gochi to give in and feed off her already because this was one of the best sensations she’d ever felt. It was also a terribly inappropriate time to be horny. Not only was this not one of her quads, an already taken man, and her kidnapper, but he was also only doing this out of survival needs. Very quickly the smog started to clear, seeming to condense into the man she knew to be her kidnapper- except with a clear face and glowing fuschia eyes.

“Sea salt taffy.” The gruff voice caught her off guard.

“Uhhh, okay?” She glanced around, trying to see if that was something she needed to grab.

“No, you taste like fucking sea salt taffy. Wait- are you okay? They get into that room at all?”

“You are aware you’re my kidnapper right?”

“I’m a goddamn middle man, I’m not doing it for kicks and giggles. I don’t see any new wounds- Angie can heal the uh.. Bite.”

The man looked sheepish but was quick to get his bearings. Soon he was looming over her once again, though he was almost.. Gentle this time. Althea stood her ground, prepared for punishment to follow but it never did. Instead a silence stretched between them.

“I know I left the room but please don’t hurt me this time?” She asked, voice trembling.

“You literally just saved my fucking life. I can’t hurt you.” He said, as if it was somehow just basic knowledge she’d have on hand. Oh saved your kidnapper? Don’t worry, they’ll definitely be grateful and not just decide to lock you right back up!

“What was that about, if I can ask uhh… sir?”

“Reaper. You’ve definitely got the goddamn right to call me by my name. An ambush. One I’ll be paying them back for with blood. Shit- we need to get to the clinic.”

“Clinic????”

“Angie’s clinic. I’ve been crossed. First we get to the clinic, then we get you whatever you want before you go home.”

“..Home?” Althea’s voice trembled, thick with too many emotions mixing together. “That’s an option?”

“It was always supposed to be, after pay went through. Turns out I’ve just been a regular fucking kidnapper for a month- your ancestor paid first night. Client said differently. Angie will make sure you go home scarless.” The man- no. Reaper began to move and she rushed to keep up with his fast pace. The hive didn’t look like there was any sign of struggle but there was a trail of- well, she couldn’t tell if it was red or fuschia blood. The trail had led right to where she’d found him, so she could only assume he’d stumbled home in that state. Her head reeled with all the new information, trying to piece it together but unable to as if it was all part of different jigsaw puzzles.

Once they left the hive it was only minutes of silent and rushed movements before they arrived at an unassuming building. The only marking of any kind was a red cross right above the door. Reaper didn’t hesitate before marching right in. Uncomfortable on a street she didn’t know, Althea was fast to follow. Inside were three lines of cots, some filled with low bloods and some empty. At the far end of the room stairs up to another floor. In the middle of the room, looking quite confused by their appearance, was the angel.

“Liebling? Have you finally come to your senses?” Although there should have been bite in that question, there was clear worry instead from the doctor.

“We need to move. Pack up everyone you can. Jasidy’s got a new place lined up for you, asked him to figure that shit out a month ago just in case.” Reaper barked out, like an order. Althea stared at him, before glancing over at the doctor. She’d never seen an order from him to her go over too well.

“And your…charge?” The doctor’s voice is steady, but already she’s texting a number in her phone.

“You heal her, we send her home.”

“She’s seen your face, love..”

“She also saved my life.”

“Oh.” The woman looks like the very air’s been knocked out of her before she shakes it off and moves over to Althea. “I’m going to hand you my phone, do you know any numbers or handles off the top of your head? Don’t worry about not using my handle. I’ll be getting rid of both it and the phone after this. Follow me to this cot over here, while everyone else is getting ready to go we’ll get you healed up. It seems I owe you more than I can repay.”

“You don’t owe her. I owe her a fucking blood debt.”

“She?...I see.”

Althea’s mind whirled and she could do little else but follow the strange woman to a cot in the corner. The familiar light washed over her as she stared down at the screen of the phone. Who would she even contact? Her kismesis? Her mother? Her guild leader friend? As the pain, adrenaline, and panic lifted she knew she had one right choice. First she sent a message off to The Lovely Begonia. Short, sweet, and to the point. Then she struggled to think of what to write her kismesis. By the time everyone had packed up around her and the glow started to fade, she’d only typed in his handle.

“I can’t let you take it with you, I’m very sorry.” The doctor’s voice was soft, as she held out her hand for the phone.

“Yeah, I get it… Um. Could I just..” Althea shook her head and gave up, handing the phone back to her. What would she even write anyways? ‘Hey i’ve been kidnapped but don’t worry things totally worked out’? “Thanks.”

“I am hardly in a position you should be thanking me for.” The woman sighed, then straightened up and held out her hand. “Let us start over. Hello! I’m Angela Reyess. I run a clinic for those less fortunate and most in need. Mutants never pay here.”

“Uhh…” Althea stared at the hand for a good long few moments before slowly sliding hers up to meet it. “I’m Althea Ianthe. I’m a trophy girlfriend.”

“Great, we all know each other’s names. Now move.” The order left no room for argument and they were quick to leave. Althea half expected the building to collapse or blow up behind them but it stayed standing, even as they walked further and further away. People were being transported by several trolls, some on gurneys, some with walkers, some just by hand. She paid them little mind. Instead she turned to the mutant man who’s life she’d apparently saved with her blood.

“You said I could go home.” She started, almost too quiet to be audible.

“And you do. I’m giving you this.” He handed her a phone in a black case, seemingly unassuming. “It’s got my number in it. Saved under Reyess. I owe you, and I pay what I fucking owe. You message, you call, whichever. Anything you want or need, I can make it happen.”

“Uhhhhhh….” She just stared at the device in her hand.

“Your scars are all gone but you’ll still feel the phantom pain of them for a few days. You also are anemic and will need to increase your iron content for the week to help reincrease your blood.” Angela seemed completely nonplussed by the weird phone gift, happily trodding on to the next thing to completely confused Althea. “I’m afraid I don’t have time to linger, but should you need medical help simply text that number. He’ll get you in contact with me. It may be his debt, but he’s my dumb husband. Having him alive means the world to me.”

“Right.. Yeah, sure. Okay.” At this point, Althea simply gave up on trying to understand.

“I’ll take you home.” Reaper nodded, and began to walk towards a scuttlebuddy.

“Uh.. Thank you?”

“You’re strange.” The man stated, but there was a clear chuckle in his voice. Althea tuned him out, instead focusing down on the phone. She downloaded discourse and immediately signed in to her account. When it loaded she was overwhelmed with the pure amount of notifications, but she ignored all of them. She couldn’t take trying to read anything right now. Instead, she found the handle of her kismesis and sent two simple messages.

[mT]: omw hom3 [mT]: w-ll 3xpla-n lat3r

#Althea Ianthe #Davie's Drabbles #Angela Reyess #Reaper Reyess

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dreamlandforever · 1 year

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The Devil You Know

(Sterek | Teen and Up | 13k)

AO3 link

I wrote my first Sterek for the "'What‘s a Stiles?" Sterek April event, based on the Prompt "Unhinged Stiles" and "Derek gets kidnapped", I hope you like it!

Summary:

“When was the last time you spoke to Derek?”

He was not expecting that question.

When was the last time he spoke to Derek? They spoke every day. They have spoken every day for six years. Sometimes Stiles calls, sometimes Derek does. But it happens daily, even if it is only for a few minutes.

But the thing is, Stiles doesn’t know what day it is. This case has been the entirety of his focus lately.

“What day is today?”

She doesn’t hesitate, too used to Stiles being…Stiles. “Tuesday”.

Fuck. Stiles missed work.

Wait. If it was Tuesday…

“Lydia.” He speaks as calmly and clearly as he is able to, which is not much. “Where. Is. Derek?.”

Tuesday.

There are a lot of things that Stiles prides himself in. Granted, most of them are illegal and kind of frown upon by the FBI, but he still knew how to get the job done. Research is one of them, and, fortunately for him, is also a skill very much appreciated by the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Especially because they didn’t know what Stiles’ preferred methods were, exactly.

The red yarn strewn all over his shoe-box apartment seems to belong to another lifetime. The only thing keeping him kind of in the present is the whiteboard he got for cheap on eBay, which also happens to double as the divider between his kitchenette and living room. FBI Stiles did not have to cover his walls in tacks, no, sir. FBI Stiles had a slightly better set up. Also, his landlord is not very fond of holes in the wall. Stiles may or may not have a little issue trying to hang a picture a few weeks after he moved in.

If he took a deep breath, he could really see himself transported back to his room in Beacon Hills. The coffee he was brewing was the same brand he had always used, the feel of the yarn was all too familiar to his hands, the pain on his lower back and the headache caused by sleep deprivation felt just like home. He wasn’t sure when was the last time he slept, but he knew he wouldn’t like the answer. From the state of the table and the marks on his cheek, he had fallen asleep at some point, so good for him. He let himself be transported back to his room, when he himself was a kid, and had to fight the Big Bad of the week, and not an FBI man who had to stop a fucking human from killing children, on top of thinking of the next Big Bad.

Which is why, it took a while for Stiles to realize that the buzzing wasn’t in his head, and he wasn’t just hallucinating it. He looked around his kitchen table, slowly blinking himself into reality. He can’t even tell how long he has been working, but it has been long enough for his blinking to actually hurt, and the pounding of his head has become more constant. With a sigh he finally finds his phone under a bunch of folders he isn’t sure he was even allowed to bring home.

Without even looking at the caller, he answers as fast as he can before the call can go to voicemail. “Hey, Der. I was just about to have dinner, don’t worry. Did you manage to fix that leaking sink? I cannot sleep with that thing, dude, and I am less than a week away from visiting.” He crosses his fingers, hoping he did not miss calls before. Derek does not enjoy when Stiles doesn’t answer his phone.

He is met with only silence. He flinches slightly.

“Breakfast? Was I about to have breakfast?” So maybe he did miss a few calls. And a lot more hours than he originally thought.

“Stiles, I am not Derek.” Lydia’s voice. She is calm and collected. And Lydia is one of Stiles’ comfort people, as well as one of his other regular calls, so he knows that voice.

“What happened?” He never quite mastered Lydia’s ability to remain in control. His voice sounded panicked even to his own ears. He stands up, no longer able to remain on the call while sitting down. His apartment is much too small to really walk away his nerves, but walking in circles will have to do. Was Derek in trouble?

“When was the last time you spoke to Derek?”

He was not expecting that question.

But the thing is, Stiles doesn’t know what day it is. This case has been the entirety of his focus lately.

“What day is today?”

She doesn’t hesitate, too used to Stiles being…Stiles. “Tuesday”.

Fuck. Stiles missed work.

Wait. If it was Tuesday…

“Lydia.” He speaks as calmly and clearly as he is able to, which is not much. “Where. Is. Derek?.”

“When was the last time you spoke to him?” She asked again, the stress finally showing on her voice.

“Saturday.” His voice came out so soft he wasn’t sure she had even heard him.

He hadn’t spoken to Derek in almost three days. They speak daily. He knows what she is going to say before the words leave her mouth.

“Stiles, Derek is missing.”

The words still feel like lead at the bottom of his stomach. The headache is rapidly turning into a migraine, and it is becoming harder for him to focus.

Derek. His Derek. Gone.

“Since when?” He knows his voice is shaky, but he can’t stop it.

Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.

There is a pause on the other side of the line, but Stiles doesn’t even notice. His head is going a mile a minute, and he cannot focus enough to comprehend simple facts, such as the passage of time. His entire body seems to have gone into panic mode, in a way it hasn’t for years. He is a man now, he is control of himself.

All bets are off the window when whatever is happening involves Derek, apparently.

“Sunday.”

He could hear ringing in his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was his mind dissociating or if his heart was beating so hard it was deafening. Either way, he didn’t have time for that, so he ignored it.

He knows today is Tuesday.

Derek went missing on Sunday.

And Stiles didn’t notice.

“Why hasn’t anyone called?” But as soon as the questions leaves his mouth, he knows the answer. Suddenly, he needs to hear it. He needs confirmation. Anger is so much easier to control than panic. Stiles wants to be angry. He wants to break something, he wants to take a swing of someone. And he knows just who.

“He said he would handle it. He benched all of us. And Derek usually keeps to himself, but Stiles it has been two days. He isn’t telling us anything.”

Stiles sees red.

#sterek #jwritessometimes #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale

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