#technically a phone call away but ignorant of what's happening to their kid??

[allthewhumpygoodness]

Whumpees! Calling! Out! For! A ! Parent!!!!

What's the situation? Do they wake up from a nightmare disoriented and confused, enough so that it takes them a second they forget they aren't with their parents and call out to the first person they see, only to be embarrassed a moment later when they realize? Are they so delirious they actually think their dad is there with them when it's really just an unrelated caretaker who's heart is breaking for them? Are they so scared, sick, or in pain that they just really really want their mom and don't care if that's impossible right now?

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: 8:45 PM 🔞

Tags/Warnings: Adult, smut-heavy, making out, Idol!Jungkook, Fluff, Established Relationship, implied foreigner!Reader, not home AU though, Jungkook struggling hard, misunderstanding, angst with happy end, emotional smut, oral (fem. Receiving), protected sex bc this is me writing this and I teach you kids the true life lessons

Lenght: long.

AU-Masterlist

Languages are marked as English / Korean.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He still can't believe your first time got interrupted by something as ridiculous as his manager calling him.

It's like a reminder that his career will always somehow wiggle itself between him and whatever happiness he tries to find outside of it- nothing ever truly personal for him, everything always meant to be well thought through so it fits into his public persona.

But he refuses to give you up, even knowing all of that.

Apologizing for it just feels.. odd now, like bringing up something awkward you did ten years ago that everyone forgot about anyway before you decided to rekindle the memory in their heads. But the problem here, right now, with you, is that he knows he should bring it up. Somehow. Because he's struggling hard to keep himself in check, even having had to embarrassingly rub one out in the shower this morning after you'd made yourself tea in his kitchen wearing nothing but a shirt and panties.

It's a problem.

He's hesitating to initiate anything now mainly because what if it happens again? He can't just put his phone on silent and ignore what could potentially always be very important calls from people who only want what's best for him in the long run- real life doesn't work like those movies where the protagonist throws it all away for his girl. He wants to, he truly does- but at the end of the day, he's also scared, because if he falls, he'll potentially take you down with him, and God knows how deep he'll fall with where he stands right now.

A drop from a height this high would shatter you inevitably, and he's sure he'd crack like delicate porcelain just as much by having to watch you suffer the consequences of his actions. You don't deserve that.

"..-ungkookie?" You try again, and he snaps out of his thought, looking at you.

"Hm?" He responds, looking at you next to him.

"I asked if you want me to cook for us tonight. Is that alright?" You wonder, and he nods, eagerly so, because of course he'd love to have you do something so domestic with him. He's always dreamed of being able to experience these things after all, despite his curse of being a public figure who's not supposed to appear unavailable. "Alright-!" You hum. "Gonna have to put pants on now though, gotta go get some groceries.." you whine under your breath as you stretch on the couch naked feet pushing against his thighs and oh, how your back arches-

No, bad brain. Not right now.

"I'll give you my card, hold on." He tries to save himself, getting up to fetch his wallet as you begin to laugh.

"Jungkook baby, I can cover some groceries, don't bother!" You argue softly, getting up as well before walking over to him. "You'll just have to survive some minutes without me, that's all." You tell him, hugging his middle as you put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. "Also, people would think I'm a gold digger for using a black card looking like.. well, me." You joke, as he can't help but reach out to affectionately brush some hair out your face, hands holding your cheeks.

"M'sorry." He mumbles, and you part a bit from him, serious at his tone of voice used.

"Hm? For what?" You wonder, and he sighs. Why did he bring it up now? This is going to be so awkward, he already dreads it. But now that he's put the noose around his neck, he might as well stand on the chair too.

"Yesterday. Or.. day before? Technically it was, wasn't it.." he rants, before sighing. "I hate that we.. had moment, you know, and then.. nothing. Ruined." He complains softly, and you can't help but look at him affectionately. He's such a soft soul sometimes, worries about so much that doesn't even need to be worried about.

"Jungkook, it's fine." You answer.

"Not fine-" he shakes his head. "Not fine, I- ugh, I want you, you know? Want to, but now, it's awkward and I don't know how to initiate it because every time I plan to I keep thinking of that moment he called and-" he groans in frustration, head thrown back before he looks down at you. "I'm sorry." He apologizes yet again, and you laugh.

"I forgot to pack socks for this trip, that's why I'm always barefoot in your apartment here." You say, and he blinks once, twice, before he looks at you, confused but amused the same.

"What?" He questions, tilting his head for a split second and you shrug.

"Now I've made an awkward moment for myself too. We're even." You explain, and he laughs.

"Thats not how that works-" he wants to argue but he inevitably leans down to kiss you- a peck quickly deepened by you, because God knows you want him just as much. But the struggle of initiating isn't solely his alone, because you don't know how to either. All is still new with your relationship, you don't even live together at this point in time, only a week more and you'll be back home trying to figure out how to move most of your stuff to his country so you can be closer. This was all a test, after all- to see if it's worth it. If you'll be okay.

And you know now, you'll be just fine with him at your side.

"Hm I need to get going now though-" you say, trying to escape him now- but he won't let you, hands firm on the small of your back as he keeps you against him, lips chasing yours making you giggle as you lean back as far as you can. "Jungkook!" You laugh, but he just playfully bites at your neck.

"No, I'm hungry." He mumbles against your skin, and you look at him, pushing against his chest.

"Yeah that's why I have to go? Get everything to cook?" You remind him, but he shakes his head, gaze making it clear that he doesn't care for that.

"Not.. that." He tells you. "Hungry for you." He says, raising his brows and you laugh at how ridiculous he's being. How can he be both so cute but also attractive at the same time? It's truly unfair.

"You're so cute." You tease, catching him off guard to escape his grasp and run into the bedroom to get some proper pants at least. But he's faster, palm slapping flat against the wood of his door before the momentum of his move slams it into the wall with a loud noise, making both of you jump for a second before he stalks towards you.

And once the backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed, you know you lost.

It's like his patience had finally snapped, his hands eagerly helping you out of his shirt, happily running his palms over your skin, warm and soft as you move around a bit to get comfortable. He sighs when his phone vibrates somewhere close- probably having fallen out of his pocket on the couch earlier, and you laugh, visibly uncaring of his misery. "Go get it." You tell him when it sounds again, and he groans out loudly as if he's in pain, angrily stomping back into the living room, where you can hear him answer the call with an annoyed tone to his voice. It surprises you when he walks back into the bedroom however, pointing to the shirt you're attempting to put back on, before he motions for you to put it back on the floor where he'd thrown it down earlier.

Just what is he thinking right now?

"Yeah, that's fine." He talks into the phone, his free hand untying the strings of your sweatpants, before he pulls on the hem, tapping your hips as if to silently ask you to lift them so he can get you out of those pants. "Not right now, but tomorrow is fine." He continues to talk to whomever is speaking to him over the phone, while simultaneously running his hand from the side of your knee, up to the hem of your underwear, the last item of clothing covering you at the moment. It's oddly exciting to see him so serious, yet clearly more focused on you than anything else.

You've never felt so adored before.

His fingers slip underneath the side of your panties, teasing you, so close yet way too far from where you'd like his hands to be most right now. And he's clearly aware of it too; if the hooded eyes and the small smirk on his lips was anything to go by. "No, right now.. I'm pretty busy. Sorry." He speaks again into the phone, thumb running over the dip between your inner thigh and your by now more than aching heat. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip for a second, before the whole thing visibly seems to edge him just as much- then tent in his pants evident.

"Alright, yeah, just- text the schedule to me and I'll talk to you tomorrow about it, okay?" He offers into the phone, moving to stand up and search for something in the drawer of his bedside table- colorful foil package pretty obviously hinting at what he means when he's said he's currently busy. "Alright, hmhm, yup- bye." He rushes out, ending the call before he throws his phone somewhere onto the shirt you'd been wearing, his eyes rolling in an annoyed manner before he takes off his own shirt, joining you on the bed.

"Did you really hang up on him like that?" You wonder, giggling when he has to sit back to slip out of his loose grey sweats as well, jumping on one foot for a bit as his other gets stuck in the fabric for a second.

"I'm not sorry." He shakes his head, crawling closer to you on the mattress to get a hold of both sides of your panties. "I've got my hot girlfriend all pretty and ready, no one can ever blame me for being needy." He shrugs, shaking his hair out of his face before he tries to pull your underwear off. "Hey come on now!" He whines almost, a stark contrast to the tattooed, muscled appearance of him currently already flushed and fully erect, straining against the cotton of his own underwear.

"Needy." You tease, and suddenly, as if you'd pushed a button, as he suddenly pulls on the fabric with more determination, successfully getting rid of the item of clothing with a gaze that screams fake innocence. Jungkook isn't new to sex, and neither are you- but it's the first time doing it with each other, which naturally places a bit of pressure onto you.

Or maybe it usually should be like that- because somehow, it all comes naturally.

When his hand finds your heat, you're already melting underneath his gaze, no words spoken as he leans further over you, catching your lips again. Only that this time, he truly seems hungry; no longer offering you fleeting pecks but desperate kisses that try and convey just how much he wants you right now. He knows that he could never truly make it clear to you though- because he himself doesn't even know if that's possible.

He's never wanted anyone so bad.

And while usually not too fond of it, his need to prove himself as the perfect lover- emotionally and physically- makes him detach himself from you for a second, before he adjusts his position, leaning down to have you lay your legs over his shoulders, hands holding your thighs apart as he lays his mouth onto your heat.

It's an entirely new experience for you, and he knows.

But luckily, if your Impatient whining was anything to go by, you're definitely enjoying yourself as he flattens his tongue over your sensitive nerves, eyes focused on you while he has to use a little strength to keep your legs apart, especially when you grow close to your first orgasm. He's eager to see it, moving away to gain a better view before one of his hands finishes the job, gaze on you as you arch your back and come undone from his actions.

And its now that he really can't take it any longer.

"Fuck I need you." He curses under his breath, finally getting rid of the last item of clothing he still had on until now, no need to give his length any form of help to get ready for you. He can't help but groan a little under his breath at how sensitive he feels, rushing the act of wrapping the condom over as to not rile himself up too much.

After all, he wants to be inside you for his own orgasm, no matter what.

"Hm I'll go slow, ok?" He asks, and you nod, hands reaching out for him, making him chuckle. "You're cute." He comments, earning a roll of your eyes in return. He lets it go for now- giving you a pass this time, but only because be truly feels needy now.

He'd love to tease you a little, make you all whiny and desperate for him, but right now, he just wants you as close as he physically can get.

Though in his haste to get onto his own road towards pleasure, he never forgets you- pride swelling as he watches you hold onto him, wanting him just as much as he wants you. He's a little sweaty already, and the sheetsbare tangled badly at this point from all your squirming, arousal already staining some parts of them but right now he really can't bring himself to care.

He uses one of his hands to aid him in finding your entrance, positioning himself to carefully push himself inside, and at this point, he just feels as if he truly became one with you. It's the last key experience in a way he's had to have with you, and now that he's in exactly that moment, things start to feel real.

"I love you." He almost whispers into your neck while he starts to move. "I'm.. so grateful you're here." He tells you, hips moving at a steady pace. "I want you to.. stay forever." He almost asks, in a way, and while you can't give him an answer to that right now, you probably will later.

After you're back with the normal thinking human beings, because right now, with his pace and strength gaining as he chases his high, your head is definitely unable to form thoughts.

In a way, he loves the sight of you like this. It's awfully sinful, a sight only he wants to ever be able to see, no one else.

He can't control his own noises at this point, uncaring of his groans of pleasure as he chases after his peak, noticing you growing antsy as well, visibly eager to cum as well. And he will make sure you'll get your attention as well- he'd never let you down, ever.

And with his hand reaching in between you both to find where he needs to be, you're gone and out; head thrown back into the pillows while he pushes himself in deep, condom filling with his seed while he slows down into almost no movement at all.

Catching his breath, he leans down to you to kiss you once more, ticking of his clock on the bedside table coming back into the background noise, as well as the cars outside from the opened window, and your breathing underneath him. His senses return one by one as he pulls himself out, moving to get rid of the condom and start the shower.

"Come on." He asks, tapping your thigh, but you just whine all grumpy at him. "Noo get up, get up- the bed's all messy and we're too.!" He laughs, all energized from his own afterglow, while you seem to be the exact opposite, having to be physically pulled into a sitting position by your wrists. Jungkook himself can't help but simply laugh, before he takes matters into his own hands, lifting you up over his shoulder-

And of course, landing a loud smack onto your butt for good measure.

[hornyfor-redacted-onmain]

Bamboozled

Pieces of My Heart - Chapter 15 Stray Kids OT8 x reader, Soulmate AU

Masterlist | Next Part

The next morning was spent doing errands. You woke up to a few good morning texts that made you smile, and you let them know you were heading out to the store down the street. The street was slightly busy as it was early morning on a weekday, but it wasn’t crowded.

You managed to make it through the store with little to no issues, only slightly panicked when you messed up while thanking the cashier, but thankfully she brushed off the error and wished you a nice day.

Soulmates

Y/N Guess who only slightly embarrassed themselves at the grocery store ^^ Img.png Felix Oh no, what happened? Y/N Tried to say thank you. Accidentally said you’re welcome. Felix ∠ ( ´• ０ •`) 〴 Han Damn, that’s so embarrassing For you For me it’s hilarious Y/N ( ⇀ ╭╮↼ ) Chan Glad you’re back safe Sorry to hear about your embarrassing moment Minho Poor Jagiya RIP your dignity Funeral will be held at 8pm           Y/N ( ง •` ⎽ ´• ) ง

You got back to your apartment and began putting things away only an hour after leaving, which left you with plenty of time to sort out all the things you had planned for the day, starting with your assignments for the week.

You received a text as you began to set up your computer and pull out the books you had bought only a week before you got onto the plane, but you forget about them for a few seconds and it isn’t until you get 6 consecutive notifications that you finally pull out your phone.

Changbin Hey, do you mind doing me a favor? Y/N Hmmm, depends on the favor

The other texts you received were a couple photos and selfies sent by Jeongin, and you smiled as you looked through a few of them. Most of them were obviously taken without the members’ knowledge, and you shamelessly saved a few of them and used your favorite selfie as your phone wallpaper.

Changbin Channie-hyung made plans to work later tonight, despite my best efforts to convince him to take a day off. You mind giving it a shot? Y/N What makes you think he’d listen to me? Changbin I figured you could persuade him more effectively. Y/N Hmmm. I might have some ideas in mind. Changbin Oh? Thought about it before, huh? Y/N NOT LIKE THAT! Get your mind out of the gutter! Changbin Kkkkk As long as it gets him to bed before midnight, I don’t care what you do. Y/N ( ￣ ^ ￣ ) ゞ

You then decided to thank Jeongin for the pictures by making yourself a breakfast full of his favorite foods, settling down at your desk while you ate to go through your email before you got started on your homework. You set a timer for 2 hours, working through as much work as you could with a few breaks in between, and pretty soon your alarm went off.

Double checking it was around lunchtime, you sent a quick message.

Y/N Are you busy right now? Chan Hmm, having a quick lunch with the boys. Why? Is everything okay? Y/N Can I call? Want to hear your voice.

Instead of a reply, you received a call from him, which you received with a smile.

“Well, someone was quite eager,” You teased.

“What can I say. I missed you too.”

“You saw me yesterday.”

“Hmm, but that was over 24 hours ago. It’s a long time to be away from my girlfriend.”

You let out a laugh. “Girlfriend? Awfully sure of yourself considering you haven’t actually asked me yet.”

“I haven’t. But a little birdie told me Seungmin already asked for us.”

“Oh?” You began to pace your room. “Doesn’t that technically mean only Seungmin’s my boyfriend?”

“Haven’t you realized sweetheart? We’re a package deal.”

That made you pause, and you were suddenly grateful that this conversation was taking place over the phone and not in person, because it allowed you to ignore your suddenly hot cheeks and act as if you were as confident as you wished you could be.

“Well, in that case, I think I deserve a nice night in with my lovely boyfriend. What do you say, want to hang out tonight?”

There was a pause on his end, and you could just about make out the distant chatter from the other boys. “I don’t know. I had some ideas I wanted to flesh out while they were still fresh …”

“Shoot. Are you sure I can’t convince you to change your mind? I was really looking forward to getting to spend some time with you.” You dropped your voice down to a seductive tone. “I promise I’ll make it worth your time.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I have some ideas in mind.”

“What kind of ideas?”

“Good food, good company, and a good night’s sleep. What more could you possible want?”

“That sounds like heaven,” He said with a smile in his voice. “I’ll agree on one condition.”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me which one of the boys put you up to this.”

You snickered. “Please don’t kill my boyfriends, babe. I prefer to have them around just a little longer.”

“Oh no, I mean to thank them. I was planning on spending the night with you anyways, as an apology for missing dinner last night, but I figured I could get a better deal if I convinced the others that I was going to work tonight-“ He trailed off.

Your mouth dropped open in shock. “You planned this!?”

“I planned on someone snitching on me.” His own voice suddenly dropped, and you felt shivers roll down your spine. “Getting to hear you practically begging for me? Oh honey, that was just the cherry on top.”

“You little shit,” You snapped back breathlessly.

Chan let out a chuckle. “I’ll see you tonight sweetheart.”

“My place or yours?” You wondered, twirling around on your spot with a smile.

“My place. If I have you all alone, I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” You teased. “But your place it is. See you later, alligator.”

“In a while, crocodile.”

-0-0-

Y/N You’re too predictable And apparently, so am I :( Changbin ??

-0-0-

Using the key you had been given just the day before, you made your way into an uneasily quiet apartment. It felt wrong to be there by yourself, but you had a plan for a perfect evening, and part of that part was making sure that you had a nice warm meal waiting for your boys when they got back home.

You were planning on something simple, but also something you were sure everyone would like. You didn’t know if everyone would come around for dinner or if it would just be the 4 who lived there, so you made enough for 9 people and figured if there were leftovers they could always eat tomorrow.

And your timing was nearly spot on, because just as you lowered the heat to leave the food warm, you heard the front door click open. There was a soft chatter and a surprised hum from behind you, and you turned around with a smile.

“Dinner’s ready if you guys are hungry,” you said, and Jisung waddled over to you with a tired smile.

“Hi baby,” he said, wrapping his arms around you.

“Miss me?” You teased.

“Always.” He hooked his chin onto your shoulder, and you felt an arm reach out to pull the lid off the pan on the stove. “Ooh, whats this?”

“Chicken parm. You hungry?”

“Ahhh, you made food!?” Changbin’s loud yell made you jump, and you peeked around Jisung to wave at the other three who were piling into the kitchen.

“It’s ready, if you guys want to eat.”

You received a loud overlapping rumble of confirmation from 3 of the boys, and Chan gave you a knowing look when you winced at the sudden pitch in noise. He mouthed what you assumed was ‘thank you’, but you had to quickly look away to keep Hyunjin from dropping the plates he had been trying to grab despite you and Jisung standing in his way.

Jisung whined when you pulled away, and it was only with a promise to sit next to him that you managed to wrangle them all to the table.

The rest of the meal was surprisingly silent as the boys ate. You could tell they were tired, and you were thankful that Chan wasn’t going to actually be working late that night because he looked like he needed a good night’s sleep more than anyone.

“I’ll clean up,” You reassured the others when they finished. “You guys go get ready for bed.”

“Are you staying?!” Hyunjin piped up, giving you a pleading look.

“Sorry Hyunnie, I called dibs,” Chan said, patting the young dancer on the shoulder.

Changbin gave you a sour look and you laughed, knowing that he had undoubtedly asked Chan about your cryptic text and realized you had both been bamboozled.

Jisung let out a yell. “No fair! Why do you get to spend the night with them?”

“Yeah! What if I get lonely tonight?”

“Ah, Hyunjinnie! You can stay with me if you want!” Changbin chimed in.

Hyunjin made a face, leaning away from Changbin who was now making kissy faces, and shooting you a pleading look. You grabbed his plate and escaped into the kitchen, the sound of chairs scratching along the floor and pounding footsteps echoing down the halls.

“Everyday,” Chan sighed, joining you at the sink and placing his plate on the counter.

You glanced at him, smile tugging at your lips. “You poor boy. You look like you need a break.”

“Hmm, good thing I have a perfect escape,” He whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist.

The heat from his body soaked through your shirt and you leaned back, pausing in your dish washing to appreciate the feeling of content you experienced being in his arms, and you knew he felt it too when he slumped against you as his muscles relaxed. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, grip tightening for a split second before he pulled away.

“Move over,” He said, bumping you with his hip. “Let me help.”

“You don’t have to,” You reassured him. “I know you’re tired.”

“The quicker we finish this, the quicker I get to have you in my bed.”

You flushed at the subtle innuendo he dropped on you, and if it wasn’t for the giggle that escaped him when he realized it too, you would have thought it was on purpose. You bumped him back and the two of you made quick work of the dishes.

-0-0-

Something nudged your shoulder, and you jolted awake with a sudden inhale of air. There was a blurry smudge of a person leaning over you, and your heart was beating loudly in your ears until your eyes adjusted to the dark and you realized that the smudge was Jisung, frozen with his eyes wide at having been caught. You let out the breath you had been holding.

“Sungie,” You groaned, and Chan shifted from behind you. “Seriously?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice until tomorrow.”

You closed your eyes, lifting up the blanket in a silent invitation, and Jisung took the win with grace as he slid under the covers. Chan huffed out a laugh in realization, warm air hitting the back of your neck. Jisung pressed his back against your front, and you wrapped your arms around him, the warmth from both sides slowly pulling you back to sleep.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Den Mother McGee – Timothy McGee

Masterlist

McGee's POV

The last thing I expected when I brought my Scouts to NCIS was finding out that one of them was a missing kid. I tried calling Y/B/N's older sister, but her phone went to voicemail. I left her a message explaining that I needed her to come talk to me. I sent the rest of the kids home and kept Y/B/N with us.

"Tim," he said softly. "Am I in trouble?"

"Of course not, bud."

"But AFIS says I'm a missing kid."

"I know," I sighed. "I called your sister. When she gets here, we will figure it out. But I promise, you're not in trouble."

I watched as he figured it out. "Am I going to be taken away from Y/N?"

"Taken away?" I repeated.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "If I'm really a missing kid, aren't they going to take me away from her?"

"Hey," I whispered, "I will do everything I can to make sure they don't take you away from Y/N. I promise."

Y/B/N's parents were killed in a car accident three years ago. Since then, his sister Y/N has raised him. According to Y/B/N, his sister had a big book publishing job in New York when their parents died. She walked away from it all so she could raise Y/B/N. Now she owns and runs a small bookstore downtown.

After getting Y/B/N a snack, I went to my desk to look into the missing child case on him. I looked up when the elevator dinged. As soon as the doors opened, Y/N came running out.

"Tim!"

"Y/N," I started.

"Where's Y/B/N? Is he okay? He must be terrified. What's going on, Tim? Where's my brother?"

"He's fine," I tried to soothe her when she took a breath.

"But you called me and said you needed to keep him here," she said. "Why would you have to keep him here, at NCIS? Did something happen? Did he do something wrong? Tim, please tell me what's. . ."

"Y/N," I stopped her as I gently grabbed her shoulders. "Y/B/N is fine. He's with my friend, Abby. The reason I called is because something came up."

"What are you talking about?"

"And who is this?" Tony smirked as he walked over. For some reason, I felt weirdly protective of Y/N when Tony looked at her.

"Y/N, this is Agent DiNozzo," I said, trying to ignore that weird feeling. "Tony, this is Y/B/N's older sister, Y/N."

"It is so nice to meet you," he attempted to flirt. Y/N scanned him before immediately turning back to me. She grabbed my hand and pulled me away from Tony.

"What's going on, Tim?" She asked. "Where's my brother?"

"He's talking to Abby and my boss, Gibbs," I explained.

"He's okay?" She double-checked.

"He is," I reassured.

"Then what's going on?"

"Let's talk," I sighed. I led her to the conference room, not entirely sure how to approach this topic. "Y/N, your brother's fingerprints connected us to a missing child case," I explained. "Any knowledge of this?"

She instantly shifted in her seat. "It's a little more complicated than that," she said softly.

"What do you mean?" I gently pushed.

"Y/B/N isn't my biological brother," she confessed. "He's technically my cousin. His parents weren't capable of taking care of him. His mother slept her way through Virginia and his father was too focused on his drug business. With his father constantly out of town and his mother wanting to keep herself busy, she dropped him off at our house all the time. He was a baby and she'd basically leave him on the doorstep, Tim. She wasn't fit to be a mother. But my parents? We were a better family for him. We raised him. We took care of him. We protected him. We loved him."

I reached over and grabbed her hand when her voice broke. "From what I've seen, you and your parents have taken wonderful care of him. He loves you. His biggest concern all day was that he'd be taken away from you."

Y/N let out a shaky breath as she intertwined our fingers and continued. "He was with us on and off for two years since he was three months old. When he was two, his mom left him with us for six months. After a long conversation, his parents agreed to let us raise him. They got a legal document stating that my parents were Y/B/N's guardians. They went as far as adopting him. My parents even added me as a guardian in case something happened to them. . ."

Y/N's voice dropped again. I was about to tell her she didn't have to keep talking but she continued anyway, "I don't know why his biological parents filed a missing child report. We had an agreement."

"Any chance you still have a copy of that agreement? Or the adoption papers?"

"I do!" Y/N perked up. "I have a copy of both at home. Would that clear all of this up?"

"Yes," I smiled. "It would. If we can prove that they filed the report after they signed the agreement and the papers with your parents, the report will become void. We could even arrest them for filing a fake police report."

"But why?" Y/N asked, her voice soft. "Why would they do this? They have known Y/B/N's entire life that they gave us custody. When did they file it?"

"About four years ago," I told her.

"Four? Why four? How would they benefit from filing this?"

"My guess," I sighed, "his parents wanted him back."

"And by claiming he's been missing his entire life, the courts would just give him back?" Y/N scoffed.

"Not with the signed document you and your parents have," I instantly said. "Odds are, they knew they didn't have any legal precedent to take Y/B/N back. And they couldn't hire lawyers so. . ."

"They tried to turn my parents into kidnappers."

"But it won't work," I said, the look on her face worrying me. "The document that your parents got signed stops Y/B/N's biological parents in their tracks. They can't fight it."

Y/N nodded as she stood up, instantly wiping her hands on her pants. She was about to leave the room but froze with her hand on the door handle.

"I can't lose my baby brother, Tim," she said, her voice breaking.

"You won't," I said softly as I walked up behind her. "You show me the document giving you and your parents full custody and this all goes away."

"And Y/B/N comes home with me?" She asked as she turned toward me. It was then that I saw the tears in her eyes.

"He goes home with you and stays with you."

My heart jumped into my throat when Y/N wrapped her arms around me.

"Thank you," she whispered. She pulled out of the hug and I instantly saw the blush on her face. "I just mean. . . Thank you for taking care of my brother. You should know, he really looks up to you."

"He does?"

"Of course," she shrugged. "Whenever he gets home from Scouts, he's always buzzing about what you taught them. And he has the biggest smile on his face. He adores you, Tim."

"He's a great kid," I chuckled. I smiled softly as I added, "You've done a great job of raising him."

Y/N paused, her smile slightly falling. "Can I see him before I go get the document?"

"Of course," I said. I grabbed my phone and called Abby. "Hey, Abs. Can you bring Y/B/N up to the squad room? His sister wants to see him."

"Thank you," Y/N mouthed. I hung up the phone and put my hand on her back. I led her out of the conference room without a word. When we got to the squad room, Y/B/N was already there.

"Y/N!"

I smiled as Y/B/N ran toward her and jumped into her arms. Y/N instantly grabbed onto him tightly.

"Are you okay?" She asked him gently. She let him go, knelt down, and looked him over.

"I'm fine," he laughed. He lowered his voice when he added, "Y/N? What's going on?"

Y/N looked over her shoulder at me and sighed. "It's complicated, honey."

"Am I a missing kid?"

"No," Y/N said instantly. "You're not, bud, but it is a little complicated. I promise to explain it to you. I just need to go home real fast and get something for Tim. Are you okay to stay here with Tim's friends?"

"Of course," he said, his voice soft. She leaned down and kissed his forehead before following me to the elevator.

"You okay?" I asked her when the doors closed.

"How am I going to explain this to him?" She asked, her voice barely audible.

"Just tell him the truth," I said honestly.

"But what if he. . . What if he hates me?"

I reached over and flipped off the elevator. I gently grabbed her arms and turned her toward me.

"Y/B/N is not going to hate you," I tried to reassure her. "It doesn't change much, Y/N. You are still his sister."

"No, I'm not," she whispered. "I'm his cousin."

"You're his adoptive sister. It still counts," I said firmer this time. "You've been his sister his whole life. You've raised him. You've taken care of him. You've protected him. You've loved him. That's all that matters."

"So he won't hate me?"

"I don't think Y/B/N could ever hate you," I said as I let out a small chuckle. "Besides, don't you think it's time he knew the truth?"

"I know," she stuttered. "I'm just. . . scared."

I thought about it before offering, "If you think it'll help, I could be in the room when you tell him."

"Really? You'd do that for me?"

"Of course," I shrugged. "I wouldn't say anything but I'd just be. . ."

"Moral support?" She teased. I let out a sigh of relief when Y/N smiled.

"Exactly," I laughed.

I flipped the elevator back on and we rode the elevator in silence. I drove Y/N to her house and brought her back to NCIS once she found the documents.

"Hi, Y/N!" Y/B/N yelled as soon as we walked back into the squad room. "Hi, Tim! You guys are back! I have an idea! Let's go get pizza! Maybe we could bring it back here and watch a movie on that HUGE screen."

"What is wrong with you?" Y/N laughed as Y/B/N bounced up and down on his toes. "Did someone give you sugar?"

"Nope!" He yelled. "Something called cafrine."

"You mean caffeine?" Y/N asked as she gave me a look.

"Sorry," I sighed. "Abby must have given him a Caf-Pow."

"This is gonna be a long day," Y/N laughed. She lowered her voice and said, "Maybe I should wait to have that talk with him."

"That's probably a good idea," I whispered back.

"What are you two whispering about?!" Y/B/N yelled. "Is Tim finally asking you out?"

"Wait, what?" Y/N stuttered. She looked at me like she was studying me. "What does he mean finally?"

"I'm not sure," I lied.

"You know what I mean," Y/B/N laughed. "I see the way you look at her whenever she drops me off or picks me up. It's the same way she looks at you."

"It is?" I asked him but kept eye contact with Y/N.

"I think so," Y/N said under her breath. "But it kind of depends on if you look at me that way."

Y/N and I had kind of an awkward staring contest before Y/B/N came running over and nearly tackled me to the ground.

"Careful!" Y/N gasped. "I should get him home before he crashes."

"I can walk you two out," I chuckled. "I'll help carry him if we don't get him to your car in time."

"I appreciate that," Y/N smiled.

We got into the elevator and Y/B/N instantly leaned against Y/N. She and I shared a look. "That didn't last long," I whispered.

"Turns out I'm going to need your help carrying him to the car after all," she chuckled. She looked at me and her smile softened. "You still up for being my moral support?"

"Absolutely," I said instantly. I had a random burst of courage as I said, "About what Y/B/N said on his Caf-Pow burst about me finally asking you out, I guess I should get it out. Would you like to grab dinner sometime?"

"I'd love to," she smiled. She looked down and laughed at her brother who was barely awake against her side. "Maybe after we get Y/B/N to rehab for his caffeine addiction."

[rhaegang]

one of my favorite things about BoT was all the exploration of Oliver's mind, his time in the hospital and the (non existent) relationship he had with his family

can i ask for a little bit more? 👉🏻👈🏻💖

[TW: suicidal impulses, Oliver having generally a Bad Time]

He didn’t speak for the first three hours. A part of him thought that, if he said nothing, if he didn’t acknowledge it, then it wouldn’t happen. Wasn’t happening. Couldn’t. Didn’t.

But after those first three hours, Paula’s hysteria and Jeff’s ignorance won out over Oliver’s hope.

What that means is this: there were tears and shaking fingers and pleas of Oliver, Oliver say something, are you ill? Are you hurt? and there were declarations of I don’t care who they are, Paula, they’ve done something to him, I’m going to the police. There were more things said, though not by Oliver, not until after Jeff reached for the phone in the hotel room, preparing to make good on his word.

What Oliver said was this:

“You’ve just kidnapped me, you realize?”

Technically, he might have been correct. He was a legal adult, and he had been coerced into getting in the Quicks’ car against his will. He had been in shock, hadn’t had his wits about him, or he would’ve made more of a fuss. Nevertheless, just because he hadn’t screamed No did not mean he had consented to being taken.

He regretted speaking almost instantly.

Most of that day, he hardly remembers. He knows Paula gasped in joy at his voice, then in horror at his words. He knows they mentioned Farleigh, the phone call with the American, and he knows they knew he had been hurt. They asked him what happened. They asked him how it happened. He resisted answering.

The hotel room was paid for; the drive to Prescot was long, and Jeff wasn’t young, so he hadn’t intended to make a round trip in one day. But as Paula grew increasingly distraught and Oliver increasingly withdrawn, something shifted.

The Quicks put Oliver back into the car. They put everything back into the car, and then they aimed it north, which was the wrong way. That wasn’t the way back to Felix.

“You can’t take me anywhere I don’t want to go,” he said, and his heart thrummed unevenly in his ears. “You have to take me back to Felix. Right now.”

In the rear view mirror, he saw Jeff and Paula exchange a look. Jeff shook his head the tiniest bit, but Paula asked anyway.

“Your neck,” she blurted. “The bruises. Did he do that to you?”

Oliver’s guts heaved. He hated the way she said it, the way she sounded like she pitied him, like she thought she understood him, and the way she said he like she was afraid to say Felix’s name, like he was the villain in a stupid kids’ story.

“I wanted him to,” he snapped, angry that she would think Felix capable of the sorts of things she was insinuating. It was more important to Oliver to defend Felix’s honor than it was to think ahead, to think strategically. It was more important that his parents be made to understand who Felix was and what he meant to Oliver than it was to tell them what they would have preferred to hear.

Maybe that, more than anything, is what marked the beginning of the end of Oliver Quick.

“I love him, I love him, and I love the way he touches me, even if no one else understands, and you’ve got everything wrong, and you have to take me back, you hear me? I don’t need you to rescue me. I don’t need you, I need Felix—”

The turn from the main road in town, the turn they needed to take to head back to Saltburn, whipped past the window. Oliver turned in his seat, pulling against the seatbelt, and watched it start to shrink away.

You’re dead anyway. You already died once without him. You won’t have another chance.

His thoughts were so, so loud, and coming so fast, and they were terrible — reaching over Jeff’s shoulder and yanking the wheel to spin them off the road, flip the car, or biting down until his tongue split, and choking on the blood, or unclipping his seatbelt and

“Oliver?”

throwing open the

door to the car and

“Oliver!”

covering his face with

his rucksack just before

“OLIVER!”

He woke up in an unfamiliar bed, but the feeling of a hospital gown had become quite familiar to him, as had the sounds of the monitors, the pinch of the IV line in his hand. Later, Oliver would learn that the hospital contacted the cardiologist who had been seeing to him all summer. Through the involvement of some protective service or another, she had been pressured to discuss some details of his overdose. It was enough to establish a pattern of behavior. From there, it took two doctors and his parents’ witness that this pattern of behavior posed an immediate risk to his life to start the paperwork.

His injuries from the road had been minimal; Jeff had put his foot on the brake before Oliver had jumped. He was in one piece, and he left that hospital less than a week later, but in the back of an ambulance, not the back of the Quicks’ car. The next hospital he did not leave until much, much later.

[zaewriteshere]

No actions without Consequences

AO3 Link

After the incident at the Everett-Linde Research Facility, you were tasked among many others to figure out what truly happened there.

You had been on that case ever since.

As you were technically on a break from it, Paris came under fire from Omega Earth, and you had your first encounter with the Valorant Legion.

Thankfully, the Valorant Protocol came into the rescue, among them someone you would recognise from a mile away ; your childhood best friend, Vincent Fabron.

Just what was going on here ?

---

You let out a frustrated sigh when your call was declined once again.

Was he really that busy ?

For once, you were in the area, taking a break from your years-long case.

You didn’t think you needed it, but unfortunately for you, your boss thought otherwise.

So, you went back to Paris, catching yourself looking forward to having the opportunity to spend some time with your childhood best friend, Vincent Fabron.

The fact that you had the longest standing crush on him to date was part of the reason why you were somewhat happy.

Apparently, he didn’t miss you as much as you did, if your repeated missed calls during the past few days were of any indication.

Ignoring the pang of sadness that overcame you, you put your phone face down on the table and took a bite of your croissant, staring blankly at the Eiffel Tower.

Your mind wandered immediately towards the topic of your investigation, the Everett-Linde Research Facility.

You went over the clues, facts, and timeline once again, for the nth time.

You had repeated that same process more than you had the courage to admit.

Once again, glaring issues arose ; some parts of the camera recordings were straight up missing, how everything was going smoothly until that fatal moment…

You groaned, banging your head on the table as you remembered that you were on vacation.

You took the last bite of your viennoiserie as you finished your coffee, and exited the café with a small smile and wave to the cashier.

Just as the door closed, you heard screams of panic as well as gunshots.

Immediately on high alert, you pulled out your phone to call the police, running against the crowd to get as close to the origin of the mayhem without risking your life.

You really wished you were in uniform right now.

It would’ve prevented at least some of the headache of investigating.

You pointed to the civilians still behind the path to safety, and just as you were about to resume your chase, you heard someone fall and cry out.

A kid.

You looked back and discerned an alarming amount of figures that clearly had rifles, running towards you.

Some of them aimed at you, some at the child on the ground.

There was an alleyway behind you that you knew you could go to and avoid the oncoming fire. 

You wouldn’t have time to get the kid without risking injury.

Your decision was made as you dashed towards the young civilian, taking them into your arms and running towards the safe spot, hissing and ducking as bullets scraped you.

You put them down, assessing them.

Besides a handful of minor injuries, they seemed to be fine.

“Can you walk ?” You asked, meeting their terrified gaze. They nodded, their limbs shaking. “Run,” You ordered, and you didn’t have to tell them twice as they scrambled away.

It’s only then that you realised that your shoulder was hurt, the adrenaline going down just a bit. You mumbled a jumble of curses, aware that there was a high chance whoever was running towards you would continue their chase.

You had to be quick and deadly then, you told yourself as numerous quick paced footsteps approached your location.

You were about to jump the closest one, but froze as your eyes met.

“V ?” You breathed, and he looked as stunned as you were. 

More gunshots, and you saw the glint of a scope aiming right at you.

You jumped your best friend, making him hit the ground with a grunt as the bullet whistled by you.

More bullets were shot, and what you assumed were his allies began suppressive fire, leaving you enough time to get off him and help him up.

A million questions were running through your mind, but you knew this wasn’t the time to voice any of them.

Quickly, you duck behind a car for cover, assessing the situation.

You were missing a ton of context, and you desperately needed more information to decide the best course of action.

You glanced towards your friend, who seemed to be listening to some comms. 

Whatever was happening, it was coordinated. 

You met gazes, and his eyes trailed to your injured shoulder.

They widened a bit before he was quick to interject whatever the person on the other side of the line was saying.

“Civilian injury. One of us has to stay behind to make sure that they can make it out,” He announced, breaking eye contact.

Right. He didn’t know.

And this wasn’t the time to open that can of worms, so you stayed silent.

You looked across the road, your glance catching the faces of who you assumed were Vincent’s allies. 

The shots drew closer.

“V,” You started, effectively grabbing his attention. “If you explained to me what’s happening, maybe I can help,” You said, determined.

You had to make sure that you were on the right side, too, but you didn’t voice that.

A beat passed where you saw the hesitation on his features clear as day.

He sighed.

“Terrorist attack,” He answered. “We’re trying to mitigate the damages,” He continued, readjusting the grip on his rifle. 

It was your turn to sigh.

“After this shit is over, you owe me a proper explanation,” You ordered, your gaze hard.

He averted his eyes with a slight nod.

“I can fend for myself,” You announced as his head whipped towards you. “I’ll hold them off, you do whatever you gotta do,” You said, already coming up with a plan of action.

“I can’t allow you to do that,” He retorted, as if you were insane for even offering. Maybe you were. “You don’t even have a weapon,” He insisted, his worry for you clear. 

“Then give me one,” You replied, finally glancing at him.

After a small staring contest, he must’ve seen something in you that reassured him.

Handing you his vandal and ammunition, you nodded as you looked into the magazine. 

“As soon as you’re clear, head to those coordinates,” He explained, sending you a quick message. “You do not have to kill, just slow them down. Stay safe,” He ordered, and you shook your head in affirmation, not looking at him. ��Hey, eyes on me,” He ordered, and you did as told. “Promise me you will not endanger your life needlessly,” He begged, his whole body language tense.

“Promise,” You replied, and he relaxed ever so slightly.

And so, he and his friends left you to be as you opened fire, grabbing the attention of the terrorists. 

Bullets flew around you, and you managed to injure and even take down some of them.

One that looked like a spitting image of Vincent somehow closed the gap between the two of you, knocking you down as his handgun was aimed at your skull.

“Protecting the one responsible for the Everett-Linde incident ? How disappointing,” He said, his voice full of disdain. 

Thankfully, the duplicate had the same build as your best friend, which meant you managed to make him lose his balance by kicking his chin and you escaped, your mind racing with even more questions and even less answers.

You went to the rendezvous point, out of breath.

You had run all the way, taking too many turns in hopes of losing the terrorists.

Seeing as nobody was around, you figured you succeeded.

You sat down on the ground, hissing at the throbbing pain in your shoulder, instinctively bringing your other hand to it and applying pressure on the injury. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long to see numerous figures emerging, one of them being Vincent…

You think.

Pointing your weapon at him, the others were quick to point theirs at you as your “friend” held his hands up.

“Show me your chin,” You asked calmly, and he tilted his head up, no signs of injuries there. He had other cuts and bruises, though.

You put the gun down, a sigh of relief escaping you.

The others did much the same, glancing at the Frenchman. 

“Let’s wait for the Vulture and get you checked out,” He announced, his features overrun with concern.

Right, you did start to feel the effects of blood loss.

As you got up, a dizzy spell overcame you, and you almost fell to the ground.

He had caught you, silently putting you on his back as your chin rested on his trapeze. 

You struggled to keep your eyes open, and you managed to for a while… You imagined.

The last thing you registered before passing out completely was the sound of a helicopter approaching.

—

You awoke in an unfamiliar and sterile room, your head and shoulder throbbing. 

You groaned, the memories of what had happened flooding back.

The words of your best friend’s duplicate resonated in your mind. 

You looked around you, and thankfully, nobody was there.

There didn’t appear to be any cameras either, so you pulled out your phone, opening the encrypted files.

You had to get to the bottom of this.

If only to fact check his words.

Unfortunately, just as you entered the last password, the door opened and closed. 

Turning off your phone and putting it beside you face down, you turned your attention to whoever entered the room.

Among the familiar faces, you saw Vincent’s.

You relaxed just a bit, knowing that you weren’t alone in this mess, before remembering that he was one of the prime suspects now.

After a bit of back and forth, they revealed that the attack was made by the mirrored version of our reality, called Omega Earth.

They had attempted to steal Radianite, this time extending more resources towards this end.

At the end of the explanation, the one who presented himself as Brimstone spoke ;

“You don’t seem surprised at all,” He commented, arching an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest.

“No,” You confirmed, choosing your next words carefully. “I was already aware of Omega Earth, following the incident of Everett-Linde,” You announced, scanning the crowd slowly.

Your best friend had a look of pure panic and dread at your confession, but he quickly recovered.

Not quick enough, though.

Your heart clenched as you went into “work” mode.

Not letting any more emotions be shown involuntarily. 

“How did you come around this information ?” The one named Viper questioned, her eyes squinting.

“I have my sources,” You answered vaguely. 

You knew you only appeared as more suspicious.

You couldn’t be bothered to care, however.

You knew what you had to do next, but you honestly didn’t want to.

“Is that everything ? I’d like to rest if that’s okay, my headache is killing me,” You asked, and it was true ; your head was arguably hurting even more than when you had woken up.

They nodded, leaving you to be, not without giving you one last glance, besides Vincent.

They could’ve at least tried not to be so openly distrustful, you thought. 

Once in the clear, you went back to your phone, re-entering the passwords and combing through the evidence one last time.

As you watched the camera footage frame by frame, you noticed at the edge of the screen what you recognised to be one of your childhood friend’s inventions.

His teleporter.

A while later, his Tour de Force was seen before the footage cut, just the tip of it.

Such small details that if you weren’t actively looking for it, you wouldn’t have caught it.

And you didn’t, until now.

For all of those years…

You felt a multitude of emotions passing through you, none that you could give space to breathe, much less process. 

You sat there in silence as you stared at your device, your hands shaking.

After a while, you got up from the bed and turned off your phone, heading towards the exit.

You got out of the infirmary, your eyes scanning for him.

You didn’t even know what name to give him, what status he had.

Finding who you were looking for, you walked up to him, ignoring the fact that he was chatting with another agent as you called his name.

“Vincent,” You said, and you saw him freeze as he turned around, worry filling his eyes.

You never called each other your full names, always opting for shortened versions.

The only times you did were an indication that the situation was to be taken very seriously.

“The research facility,” You started, and his eyes widened. “Everett-Linde,” You clarified, as if you needed to do that. “To what extent were you involved in the incident ?” You interrogated, your voice surprisingly even. 

Your wording was accusatory.

You saw that it made a few heads turn to your direction out of the corner of your eyes.

Your gaze however, was firmly trained on the man in front of you, watching as his expression changed numerous times.

From shock, to panic, to anger, to sadness, and now guilt.

The silence stretched out.

“Answer me,” You ordered, your voice like ice.

A small part of you was praying for you to be wrong.

“I, along with my mirrored version, triggered the breakdown of the facility,” He confessed, and you heard a few gasps arise. 

You couldn’t help your next move, your mask of professionalism cracking.

You slapped him with all of your might.

It resonated against the walls, making him take a few steps to catch his balance as he brought a shaking hand to his injured cheek, his head turned away from you.

You wanted to scream at him.

To insult him, to make him understand just how much he fucked up.

How you couldn’t see him as a friend now, how you couldn’t trust him.

You did none of that.

“Vincent Fabron, you are under arrest for mass murder,” You announced, pronouncing each word slowly in an attempt to ground yourself.

“What is going on here ?” You heard Brimstone’s voice call out, but you didn’t glance at him, your gaze fixed on the man you were arresting.

“I’m arresting him,” You answered and you could clearly see the small tears rolling down his cheeks, his glasses long gone from the impact of your hand.

He didn’t look at you though, didn’t even change his head’s position.

“Under what jurisdiction ?” He questioned, his tone changing to be even more authoritative.

“International criminal law,” You replied, cursing that you didn’t bring any of your items with you.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” He retorted, and you finally glanced at him. 

“Are you preventing me from doing my job ?” You asked incredulously, stunned.

“I’m saying that you will not get out of here with him,” He stated, taking big strides towards you.

You didn’t move. 

Soon enough, he was in your personal space.

“Are you threatening me ?” You arched an eyebrow, making eye contact.

“I don’t make threats, I make promises,” He said without missing a beat.

You looked around the room, feeling the Radianite crackling.

You weren’t one to back down.

Not when you knew you were in the right.

You were always one to try against all odds, which is why you were even assigned this case in the first place.

This time though, you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

Maybe it was the betrayal, maybe it was the fact that he still didn’t move his head to look anywhere, as if he wasn’t really present.

Either way, you felt your mask crack just a bit more as you gritted your teeth.

“Alright then,” You conceded. “Let’s talk,” You said, and you felt the energy in the room slowly dissipate.

“Follow me,” Ordered the agent that you realised was ex K-Sec, if his uniform was anything to go by.

As he turned and started to walk away, you found yourself hesitating, fighting the urge to look back at Vincent.

You clenched your fists as you forced yourself to take the first step, the next one coming more easily to you, and so on and so forth.

You were guided into a remotely situated room, and you took a seat, Brimstone sitting in front of you.

You knew there was another person in the room, but didn’t comment on it.

“Who do you work for ?” He questioned, his eyes firm.

Not leaving room for any other answers than the truth.

You didn’t answer, your silence a challenge.

“We will find out, you know,” A new voice spoke, and you heard something akin to a coin being played around with. “Just make our jobs easier and tell us right now,” He continued, and you saw two glowing eyes focusing on you from one of the dark corners of the room.

You unfortunately had to take those words at face value.

“The IICI,” You replied, studying their body language for any shift.

You found none.

“Why arrest him now ?” Brimstone asked, hiding his mouth between his joined hands, while his elbows were resting on the table.

“Didn’t know it was him until a few moments ago,” You admitted, your eyes trained on him.

“Does anyone else know about this discovery ?” The man with the glowing eyes followed up.

You didn’t like where this was going.

“No,” You answered truthfully. “But if you were to get rid of me, my disappearance will certainly alert my colleagues and superiors,” You added, which the voice chuckled creepily.

“We wouldn’t want that, do we now ?” He stated rhetorically. 

“Drop the charges,” Requested the man with the beret. 

“You know as well as I do that I can’t do that,” You replied, squinting.

“What if you heard the reasoning behind said crime ?” The one in the shadow spoke, finally stepping into the light. “You’re attached to him, yes ? You know as well as we do that he wouldn’t do such a thing without a good motive,” He continued, and you cursed him for pulling at your heart strings.

For seeing right through you.

For being right.

You felt your mask crack some more, your hands starting to shake.

“Fine,” You said, your voice cracking. You cleared your throat. “Bring him here,” You agreed, and both of them relaxed at your words.

They got out, and you were left alone with your thoughts.

Your mind was running in circles, the facts torturing you.

The sound of the door opening and closing got you out of your spiralling.

Vincent didn’t even dare to glance at you as he wordlessly took the seat in front of you, his eyes glued to the table.

He sniffled, and you noticed the cheek was swollen.

You didn’t like his behaviour.

You wanted him to fight you, to vehemently prove his innocence to you, or at the very least, to shout at you his motives.

It was as if he had accepted his fate and his friends – and a part of you alongside them – were fighting a losing battle.

The anger that you already felt only rose at this realisation.

“Your friends are trying to make me drop the charges, y’know. Their argument was that you had a reason for committing that atrocity,” You announced, cursing how your voice shook. “You’re not doing a good job at justifying yourself,” You commented, and you couldn’t help the bitterness slipping through.

No reaction.

It made you even more upset.

“I guess we were wrong for believing in you, then,” You observed, and you saw him freeze. “To believe that you had a reason, that you wouldn’t just agree to do that shit without a second thought,” You continued, and you felt your mask crumble away as your lips trembled and your vision became blurry. “That you’re not a heartless killer,” You whispered, your voice breaking.

You shakily wiped away the tears escaping your eyes, taking deep breaths to calm yourself.

You couldn’t help your mind attempting to come up with a loophole to save his stupid ass. 

You cursed yourself for even thinking about it.

“The least you could do is look me in the eyes,” You commented, sorrow becoming anger. “Do I really mean that little to you ?” You asked, baffled, shaking your head in disbelief.

For the first time since you slapped him, he reacted by slowly shaking his head.

“You mean more than I could possibly express,” He croaked out, his voice so broken.

You’ve seen him at low points in his life, helping them through it.

This wasn’t like any other.

“Then talk to me,” You surprised yourself by begging, feeling another set of tears well up.

You reached out your hand, then stopped, bringing it back to your body.

It didn’t escape him.

“He told me that it would have a domino effect on both of our world’s dooms,” He revealed, sighing. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a shallow laughter escaping his lips. “Told me we could prevent it by destroying the facility with everyone in it,” He continued, his voice breaking. 

He finally met your gaze, and the sheer hurt and guilt that was written all over his features made your heart throb.

“If there was any other way, trust me, I wouldn’t have chosen this path,” He finished, his voice akin to a whimper.

“Why…” You started, barely keeping control of your own feelings. “Why didn’t you tell me ?” 

“To tell you what ?” He retorted, more aggressive than he meant to, if you could trust the way he slouched right afterwards. “I couldn’t just tell you I committed mass murder,” He croaked, bringing a shaking hand to his face. “Look at us now, that same confession is tearing us apart,” He commented, his lips shaking. “I couldn’t – can’t – lose you,” He admitted, a sob escaping him.

You wanted nothing more than to comfort him.

Your body was just frozen in place, your thoughts too incoherent to voice any of them.

“So many times I’ve wanted to tell you,” He continued, taking your silence as disapproval. “I have many things I want to confess to you, not just that. The VP included, as well,” He continued, his voice growing in desperation. 

His hand reached out across the table, slow and hesitant, before he stopped halfway through.

The hand remained there.

The lump in your throat only grew.

You fought yourself to open your mouth and say anything.

So you did.

“Now sounds like the right time,” You encouraged, barely above a whisper.

You didn’t know where this was going.

You were scared to find out, if you were honest.

He took a deep breath, his hand leaving his face.

“I love you,” He announced, his intense gaze making your heart skip a beat. “I’ve always loved you, since the day we met back in kindergarten,” He continued, seeing something in you that encouraged him. “It didn’t matter who I was dating, sleeping with, my heart would only yearn for you. It was suffocating, especially when you dated around, too,” He admitted, his pace quickening. His eyes became watery. “I only wish I could’ve told you in different circumstances,” He added, his voice soft.

You searched his features for any lie.

Because honestly, you couldn’t believe your own ears.

He took your silence as a rejection, and his body language shifted in a way that told you he expected as much.

Out of panic and pure instinct, you took his hand, the gesture surprising both of you.

You were feeling too many things at once, not finding the ability to say any of your thoughts.

He figured as much, if his understanding gaze was anything to come by.

“We’ll get through this,” You promised, your voice shakier than you wanted it.

You squeezed his hand, reassuringly.

A silent sign that you had his back.

He was visibly surprised by your words, before relief washed over him and tears poured.

He nodded solemnly, saying “thank you” repeatedly, and if you had to be honest…

You didn’t know what he was thanking you for.

Probably too many things.

—

You had spent the remainder of your vacation in the Protocol’s HQ, getting accustomed to every member as you pulled together the evidence and prepared your case for the judges.

They were understandably wary of you at first, but after an endorsement from both Brimstone and Cypher – the one with the glowing eyes in the interrogation room – everybody had visibly relaxed.

Rumours of your shared history with Vincent quickly spread.

Despite their veracity, they were just that, rumours.

Least to say, the air around you when the both of you even just shared a room was almost suffocating for you.

The marksman had taken his distance, knowing full well that you needed time to process the large amount of news and revelations. 

On top of that, you had to remain as impartial as possible in the presentation of evidence, on top of carefully choosing the wording for his defence and motive.

You had to at least try to protect him.

You worked on it day and night, hardly ever coming out of your room, barely seen talking to anybody.

You had briefly wondered why they even kept you in the heart of their headquarters, before pushing the question away.

You had to focus.

You reached for the pot on your desk to pour yourself another serving of coffee before realising that it was empty. With a groan, you exited your room for the first time in what felt like weeks, making a bee-line for the kitchen.

The halls were weirdly empty, all lights off.

Was it the middle of the night ?

You guessed that you would have to be quieter, then.

You had to pass through the break room to go to the kitchen, and just as you approached it, you saw a familiar silhouette slouched on one of the armchairs.

You knew Vincent had the tendency to pull all nighters back in the day, much like what you were doing now, but you had thought he stopped doing so.

Either you were wrong in assuming so, or something was deeply upsetting him.

You had stopped walking when you were in front of him, trying to figure out what to say.

He just so happened to look up right as you formulated the words in your head, and your mind went blank.

He was a mess.

… You probably weren't looking so hot, either, now that you thought about it.

His eyes wandered between you and the emptied massive pot of instant coffee in your hands, and he frowned.

“You’re going to put that back, right ?” He croaked, the first words you spoke to one another since that day.

You bit your lips, shaking your head silently.

“I was actually going to get my refill,” You admitted, tearing your gaze away from him.

He breathed out your name, his tone filled with worry, shock, and a warning.

“How many hours have you slept today ?” He interrogated, and you knew this voice.

He wanted the truth, all of it.

“Maybe 5…” You started, then spoke again, your own voice small. “This week,” You cleared your throat, trying to be nonchalant.

At your words, he got up and took the pot from your weak grasp, and you could tell he was fuming.

You didn’t want to admit that you were doing this for him.

You knew how he would react.

He walked away from you, putting your prized possession back where it belonged, before coming back to you.

As your eyes met, you could tell he wanted to say and do oh so many things.

Instead, his gaze hardened.

“You’re going to sleep, now,” He ordered, not leaving any room for argumentation.

“Won’t be able to,” You confessed, your eyes staring at your feet.

If you were to go back to your room, you would just continue working until you passed out at your desk.

He sighed, taking your hand in his and guiding you to what you recognised was his room, and he got you on the bed, next to the wall. 

Your hand was still firmly in his possession.

“If you can’t sleep, at least rest your mind for a bit,” He announced, his voice still hard, but there was a softness and gentleness around the edges.

You just stared at each other in the darkness, your eyes exploring his features as if you were rediscovering him.

You stared at the markings that you had grown to appreciate, glistening softly.

Your eyes trailed to his cheeks, his skin looking paler than usual.

Naturally, your gaze rested on his lips, drawn in a thin line. 

You always wondered how they felt, how they tasted.

You shook the thought away, now wasn’t the time.

Finally, you stared into his eyes.

They were tired – exhausted – but attentive. Worried.

You saw it from his perspective ; the closest friend that he had all throughout his life finally got to know the one thing that was haunting him for years, not taking it well at all. 

On top of that, he had confessed his repressed feelings – something that he still didn’t get a proper answer to – and right afterwards, his best friend just barricaded themself away in a room for days on end.

When they finally emerged, he got to know that they weren’t taking care of themself at all.

Man, what a shitshow.

“I told you to rest your mind, not torture yourself with it,” He commented, a slight tease in his voice.

Your lips perked up for a moment.

At the softening of his gaze, it was the right reaction.

“I’m sorry,” You apologised, taking him aback. “I have not been fair to you since that day,” You explained, playing with the collar of your shirt. “I guess I was so focused on trying to protect you that I neglected repairing the relationship,” You admitted, sighing.

“Protecting me ?” He repeated, inching closer. He squeezed your hand briefly, making you look at him. “What do you mean ?” He enquired, and you knew you had fucked up.

There was no backing out now, you guessed.

“Been working on wrapping up the case, evidence, your confession, motives… Just, trying to make them loosen the verdict,” You said, and he froze, his entire body tensing up. “I don’t know if it’s going to work, given our… Relationship, but I at least got to try,” You spoke your words slowly, breaking eye contact.

“Let me get this straight,” He started, his tone clearly baffled. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone to protect me ? Me, the cause of such sorrows and heartbreaks, responsible for taking hundreds of people’s lives ?” He asked, searching your eyes for any lie.

He found none.

“Why ?” He asked, his voice soft and on the brink of breaking.

“Because I love you,” You blurted, surprising both of you with your sudden confession. You sighed. “I can’t just sit back while my fucking best friend risks life in prison for something he thought had no other options but to do,” You continued, your voice rising slightly. “I love you, V, I really fucking do. I can’t just watch you spend your life behind bars when I can do something about it,” You finished, seeing your vision blur.

You wanted nothing but to comfort him.

To cuddle with him and fall asleep, getting a full night’s rest for once.

But time was precious.

Unfortunately, Chamber would have none of that, as he scooped you closer to him, his arms wrapping around your body firmly as you let out quiet sobs.

He whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you cried, rubbing your spine gently, comforting you.

Eventually, you fell asleep, exhaustion taking over your mind.

You woke up in the same bed, your best friend quietly watching over you.

“Good morning,” He greeted, and you had a faint smile.

“Morning, V,” You said, and it was his turn for his lips to perk up.

After staring into his eyes for a moment, you sat up on the bed, stretching.

“You need to take a day off,” He commented, frowning. “Weren’t you on vacation ?” He observed, arching an eyebrow.

“I will be on vacation for sure once the case’s closed,” You argued, and he sighed.

“We both know that’s a lie,” He objected, to which you had no answers. “Please, take the day off,” He was downright begging. “If not for yourself, then for me,” He insisted. “I missed you,” He admitted, his cheeks dusting a light pink.

You sighed, feeling yourself concede against your best judgement.

“Fine,” You agreed, falling back on the bed.

Immediately, your best friend started cuddling you once again.

You were no stranger to this behaviour, but you felt like it had another meaning after both of your confessions.

You wanted to clear the air, but you knew your relationship status would not help with your case, so you refrained.

You just sighed, content.

You hoped you wouldn’t regret this later.

“Stop thinking about work already,” He grumbled, flicking his fingers on your forehead playfully.

“Ow,” You say without really meaning it. You relaxed into his grasp still. “Alright,” You accepted, and he smiled.

He nodded in approval.

He said your name, and you hummed in acknowledgement.

“Thank you,” He spoke, kissing the top of your forehead gently.

“Told you we were going to get through this,” You reminded him, and he chuckled.

—

Soon enough came Vincent’s trial, which was of course, very mediatised. 

You knew that regardless of the penalty, his enterprise would suffer greatly. 

Since you were the one to discover the truth, you were also the one presenting the evidence.

You hoped your position and arguments would bring nuance to the table.

Thankfully for everyone, the courtroom wasn’t open to the public or media outlets.

It would be easier to keep the world calm about Omega Earth that way.

“So you’re not arguing about the if, but about the why ?” Questioned the judge, arching an eyebrow.

You nodded. 

“Your Honor, I’m sure you are well aware of the existence of Omega Earth.  Mr. Fabron was told it was either the Research Facility or our realities, just as stated in his testimony,” You repeated, hoping to sound convincing enough.

He hummed, before looking at the evidence presented. 

You continued back and forth, the judgement lasting over several days.

In the end, your friend was sentenced to 50 years with parole.

You did your best to protect him.

It wasn’t in your hands anymore.

You really just had put your childhood best friend in prison, huh ?

You knew you weren’t allowed to talk to him and much less see him anymore for the foreseeable future.

You sighed as you got into your car, feeling your eyes fill up with tears.

You stayed in the vehicle silently, letting your emotions run free for once.

During the following weeks, you considered quitting.

That whole situation really did manage to break you, and you weren’t sure that you were capable of being able to keep going.

It didn’t escape your boss, who summoned you to his office.

“You do not seem too happy with the outcome,” He commented, and you almost thought it to be rhetoric.

“I have put behind bars my childhood best friend,” You replied, trying your best to hide the venom in your tone.

“You have brought justice to the families,” He argued. “If you cannot bring yourself to understand that, then I cannot with good conscience keep you as an asset,” He continued, his gaze hard.

“Then fire me right now,” You answered, sighing. You knew you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself regardless.

“As you wish,” He conceded, and you nodded as you left the room to pack your belongings.

When you got home, you didn’t even bother to get out of your uniform, flopping face first into your couch.

The emptiness that you had felt since the sentencing only grew, finding yourself greatly missing Vincent.

You guessed you had to wait a handful more years before seeing him again.

A knock on your door was heard, and you groaned.

You really didn’t want any visitors.

Regardless, you got up from the couch, opening the entrance without checking who was there.

You were surprised to see Viper, not looking very pleased to be here.

You quirked an eyebrow.

She sighed.

“Brimstone sees potential in you as an asset for the Protocol,” She announced, and you frowned at the wording.

From your understanding, she was also a founding member of the team.

Another question quickly arose by the timing of all of this.

“Were you waiting for me to get fired ?” You questioned, leaning on the doorframe.

She squinted.

“Recruitment is less of a hassle if the potential asset doesn’t have anything holding them back,” She replied, which answered your question.

“Do I have time to think it over ?” You asked, and she rolled her eyes.

“A week. Go to these coordinates if your answer is yes. Don’t come otherwise,” She said, handing you a piece of paper.

You nodded. 

“Anything else ?” 

“No,” She retorted, and you nodded, closing the door on her.

You leaned on the wood, staring at the item in your hands.

You really had nothing to lose.

Maybe joining them would be the best way for you to get to know the people that were a major part of Vincent’s life until recently.

It could be a way for you to get closer to him, in a weird way.

But it also meant that your rare opportunities to visit him would be even more scarce.

You had to think it over.

For the following week, you barely got out of your apartment, idly looking for jobs that would fit your resume, not looking at the news or any social media sites because well…

You knew what would be the hot topic, and you wanted to hear nothing of it.

It was hard to deal with the consequences of your actions, even if it was the right thing, as had been pointed out by your old boss.

The more time passed, the more appealing Viper’s offer became. 

By the sixth day, your decision had been made.

So, you began packing your belongings, most of them consisting of gifts your childhood best friend had given you over the years.

You knew you would have to tell him, but if your memory was serving you right, he was still in between prisons.

You sighed.

Should you cancel the lease of your home ?

You would have to ask whoever was going to pick you up.

You woke up early on the last day, not because you wanted to, but rather because you couldn’t sleep.

Your circadian schedule had been fucked for a while.

You just couldn’t be bothered to fix it.

You headed towards the coordinates indicated on the paper, and realised it was a long way off Paris.

You drove in silence, not being able to listen to most of your music, almost all of them being associated with your best friend.

If you turned any of them on, you couldn’t guarantee yourself not to cry, which would be a safety hazard for you.

You ended up arriving at your destination, a small aerodrome that you didn’t know existed. 

You parked, and you immediately saw two men walking towards you, both of whom you recognised to be Valorant agents.

“Glad we didn’t come all this way for nothing,” Announced the one you recognised to be Phoenix with a playful tone. 

You nodded, smiling awkwardly.

“You took care of everything back home, yes ?” Asked a tall blond man, Sova, if you recalled correctly.

“Yeah,” You confirmed, and he hummed in acknowledgement as he took some of your luggage.

The British man took the remainder, and as the plane took off, the blond agent had a small smile.

“Welcome to the Protocol.”

—

It had been a few days since you had joined the Valorant agents as a permanent member, and slowly, you could feel the emptiness leaving you.

You were talking about knitting with Omen, since you had wanted to get into the hobby yourself. 

He was much too eager to talk about it, if you could trust his lighter tone and the glowing of his…

Eyes ?

Were they eyes ?

“So, we went over the tools, but where should I start with knitting ?” You asked, jotting down some thoughts on your phone. “Are blankets easy to do at all ?” You questioned, ignoring the large amount of footsteps getting closer to you.

One pair stopped, and you would’ve continued to pay it no mind if you didn’t notice the controller’s gaze shifting to look behind you.

It must be important since you had managed to keep his attention on you throughout your conversation.

So, you turned around, barely registering the figure before you got pulled into a tight, strong hug.

You’d recognise that cologne anywhere.

“V ?” You breathed, immediately tearing up.

He didn’t answer, instead tightening his grip around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

Coming to your senses, you hugged back, silent tears falling down your face.

Neither of you wanted to let go, you realised.

“How come you’re here ?” You whispered, still in disbelief.

“The Protocol struck a deal. I can continue to operate as an agent, but I do not have the authorization to go outside other than for missions,” He answered, holding you so tightly you’d think you would disappear if he even loosened his grip.

And nobody told you about…

You wanted to curse, but your frustration had very little space right now.

You were just glad to be able to spend time with him again.

He pulled his head away, catching your eyes.

Leaning in, he stopped a few centimetres away from your nose, your breaths melting into one.

“Can I kiss you ?” He asked, barely loud enough for you to hear.

You silently closed the gap, meeting his lips.

The kiss was full of untold love and desperation, of yearning and belonging.

You snaked your hands on his neck, deepening it.

His hands rested firmly on your hips, somehow pulling you even closer to his body.

You melted into his grasp, the emptiness that you had felt all this time long forgotten.

You broke away, out of breath.

You made eye contact, and you knew that look.

He was very close to just openly making out with you.

You had a light chuckle.

“Not here, V,” You answered his unspoken question as he leaned in, his hands lowering.

He smirked, knowing.

He surprised you by lifting you up and resting his hands on the underside of your thighs as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Let’s have fun somewhere else, then,” He announced, which made you blush.

And fun you had.

[hum-suffer]

Didi Didi chp 6 kab ???

Arre shit, likh ke post karna hi bhul gayi 😭😭🖐🏻 I'm sorry

Of course, you'll hurt me 6 (Rajneeti)

Meeting Prithvi and Samar for the shopping is the first thing on her agenda and it's overwhelming.

Samar is wearing a white button up with a blazer and jeans, and Amrita remembers a time where he exclusively used to wear white t-shirts and white shoes on every Friday.

(On an impulse, she glances down. He's wearing white shoes. It's Friday.)

Prithvi is buzzing with energy, despite the hellish PR yesterday. To be seen with his kid brother, buying something for him, is a double edged sword. Some will claim how emotional must Prithvi be, so caring for his baby brother, with whom he's had to bear a separation for years. Samar's soft demeanor only helps in that narrative. Others, they will subject them to scorn for buying a luxury end product with the government salary.

Amrita sits in the front seat with Harsh while the brothers sit at the back, reading through the online opinions on Prithvi. It seems to be the general consensus that he's a bit arrogant but most people seem to think the arrogance suits him. Thankfully, Amrita has been able to mitigate the damage from yesterday to a minimum by spreading some "leaked" talks about Prithvi refusing any more grants than necessary and earning by his investments in several business and how he uses his government salary for charity every month.

Prithvi talks about some dream he saw last night, something about having an arranged marriage and he feverently shakes his head. "It was honestly a nightmare, Chhote. Why would I ever marry someone I don't like?"

"It's not that bad," Samar says, shrugging,"Mom and dad had an arranged marriage."

Prithvi rolls his eyes. "And look how that turned out. I want happiness and love in my marriage, not silent support and political gain."

Amrita clears her throat and gets out of the car as soon as Harsh parks the car, feeling strangely suffocated. Amrita doesn't care what happens to her, really, she can even live the rest of her life between books, following Prithvi and his heir and making sure that the party prospers. But she'd rather die alone and lonely then marry someone only to have an marriage like her parents.

Dev will never be forced to marry anyone he doesn't like, she vows to herself. Hell, she won't even insist him to marry if he wishes to remain a bachelor.

No fate is worse than being unloved so wholly.

She sees Samar stare at her with a look that she can't decipher but she ignores it, walking into the store with Abhinav, another security guard of Prithvi's. It's only after talking to the manager to provide Prithvi and Samar with privacy as well as the best possible suggestions that she leaves, wandering to where Prithvi and Samar are already browsing.

"Whatever you buy, leave a 10% tip for the manager," she advices Prithvi, not looking at Samar. "It's for your reputation."

Prithvi pulls her closer and winds an arm around her shoulders,"Chhodo yaar ye sab reputation. You're always making me do things for the public opinion."

"Because you keep ruining the public's opinion of you," she says back breezily. "I've got to make some calls to the creative team, you two continue with this."

She's about to turn and leave when she feels a brush of fingers against her arm. She looks back at Samar in question.

He freezes, like he didn't expect her to react to his touch. "Maybe you could buy a watch, too? If only you want one, Amu."

She shakes her head and holds up her phone. "I don't need a watch to know the time. Thanks."

Amrita walks away quickly before she can be held again, calling Archie. "Hi, my favourite reporter."

"Hello, my least favourite person."

"Harsh."

"You deserve it for threatening me."

"Technically," Amrita says,"I just threatened your career. And I gave you better news, didn't I? I did hear something about an incentive."

Archie laughs,"You're such a bitch. Go on. What do you want?"

"I'm going to need to meet you to give you some more information about Vijaynath's party. Very interesting information." She's already cleared it with Mamaji. They've both talked about it and they both know that sacrificing some people from the other party is the only way they'll change the topic for now. Offense is the best defence and all that.

Archie is silent for a while. Finally, he says,"Meet me at Surya palace today. 1 pm. Let's have lunch together."

"It's on me." She says, knowing that this small investment will go a long way. And really, it's not her money she'll be using. She's going to take Prithvi's card.

Archie huffs."I'll make sure to order the most expensive wine, then."

"I'm not your sugar mommy, no matter how badly you need one. And dress fucking well, if you wear garish clothes, I'll pour coffee on you." Amrita says, turning around to check on the brothers while jotting down the time and place on the palm of her hand.

Both of the brothers seem to have overheard her and Samar seems awkward like he always is, and Prithvi has raised his eyebrows.

Archie says something and cuts the call.

"Not a word, Prithvi bhaiya. Not a word." She threatens him, grabbing a bottle of water.

Prithvi shrugs. "I'm just saying, you're always talking about how I shouldn't spend time with Sharma."

"I'm not going to fuck him." She deadpans at him, ignoring the way a dark look passes over Samar's rigid eyes.

Prithvi turns back to the watches on display. "Yes, yes, that's why you were dictating what he should wear."

Amrita walks over towards them and stands beside Samar, completely ignoring him and looking over his back at Prithvi. "When I'm fucking someone, the world will know it. I don't do secret affection."

"Who says you need affection for that?"

"Who says I won't punch you for saying all this? Ever heard of the HR department?"

Prithvi smirks. "You're my little sister, you wouldn't complain."

Amrita rolls her eyes and looks back at the watches that Samar has selected, almost all of them have a round dial. But the one he has in his hand currently has a square dial. It's completely black with subtle golden accents. Amrita can't help but think that it matches the watch she's currently wearing.

She shakes the thoughts off and steps away. "I'm going to get tea for myself. You two want anything?"

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

Most days, Samar struggles to maintain the shimmer of darkness that dances under the surface of his skin. It's always threatening to become into a forest fire.

The moment he overhears Amrita talk to some guy with such authority, his blood is swirling with need to talk to her and ruin the man if need be. He wants to be the one she has such rights over. She should dictate what he should do, not some random reporter.

Amrita claims she's not interested in the guy, and Samar swallowing subtly, swallowing the poisonous words back into his throat. She tells them she won't do silence affection and meaningless relations, and he feels something pierce and soothe his heart at the same time.

Amrita has always been loyal to a fault. Samar has known since they were teens that she will not be one casual relationships, not ever.

And yet, the words soothe his heart. He still knows her. She is still the same woman he knew, but she is also so much more.

She excuses herself to get tea and he sees Prithvi bhaiya shake his head and chuckle.

"She'll really hit you someday," Samar tells his brother in a half joke.

Prithvi bhaiya laughs and shakes his head. "Nah, she won't. And anyways, I could deduct from her salary if she hits me."

Samar raises his eyebrows. "Maa would buy her a gold medal if she can corral you into behaving, even if she has to use violence for it."

Prithvi bhaiya pouts at him mockingly. "You people have no respect for me. It's blasphemy."

"I don't think you're using that word correctly."

"Now you'll contradict your brother too?!"

Samar laughs at his dramatic brother and chooses the watch that matches Amrita's watch.

(He'd gifted her that watch, ten years ago. He's surprised to still find it on her wrist. He wonders what happened to the other gifts he bought her over the years on her birthdays. He stops himself from wondering what happened to that jean jacket she was wearing on the day he—)

Samar clears his throat and fiddles with his phone while Prithvi bhaiya pays for the watch. The background wallpaper on his phone is of Amrita, wearing his sunglasses. Prithvi bhaiya sent it to him yesterday, and he hasn't been able to take his eyes off.

When they walk out of the store with a new watch on his wrist, Samar sees Amrita's eyes dart down to his wrist and her grip tightens just so on the tea glass.

They wordlessly get back in the car.

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

Samar gets to tag along to the meeting with Mr. Bajaj, because Prithvi and him had incessantly fought over what to eat. Prithvi wanted something spicy and Samar was craving something sweet.

Amrita was firmly in Prithvi's camp— she hated sweets and especially sweets so early in the morning just sounded horrible. Still, to maintain even a facade of professionalism, Amrita had refrained from taking any sides and had texted Dev instead.

That little shit was texting back in the middle of class, claiming that he hated the class because the subject was so boring. Amrita wanted to whack him over the head for being so overconfident.

However, now, sitting in Mr. Bajaj's office, Amrita wishes she was back in college and she could bunk this particular class. The day is beautiful, and she doesn't want to start it off by talking about politics and the implications of several PR moves.

Prithvi is the perfect son-figure to Mr. Bajaj. Extremely polite, unfailingly indulging and funny, and listening to his every word. Mr. Bajaj already seems besotted. If nothing else, Amrita knows that Prithvi is a good showman. He knows how to control his audience.

Amrita sits at the corner sofa, with Ritik, noting down the minutes of the meeting. Its tiring to keep with them, but the hour is well spent when they get up and Mr. Bajaj has a promise of a cheque ready on Prithvi's name for the near future.

"Thank you, Mr. Bajaj," she says, smiling widely at him. "I still apologise for the sudden rescheduling and I hope you're satisfied with the bargain between our collective powers."

Mr. Bajaj, a man who looks like every average Indian father, smiles genially at her and tells her,"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Arya. Prithvi Babu is the icon of our future. He is fit to govern. I and Shiv Incorporation will always be here to assist in any way we can."

Prithvi and Samar talk pleasantly with Mr. Bajaj and Amrita turns to Ritik with a tired smile. Ritik frowns at her slightly. "Please, don't mind me saying this, but you don't look like you're particularly enjoying yourself."

Amrita raises her eyebrows and shrugs,"You have some courage, I'll give you that. And really, who actually ever enjoys meetings?"

"That's why I usually arrange meetings for Mr. Bajaj at meals!" He says,"At least I can fuck off to eat while he talks."

Amrita hums at him, absent-mindedly and gathers her purse with her as she stands up. "Next time, I'll keep that in mind."

As they're walking out of the building, Amrita spots Indu standing at the gates, leaning against her car with her arms crossed over her chest.

She risks a look at Samar and realises it's time. She'll become a choice for him again.

[cavinginhisfvce]

''MAMA'S BROWN BABY BEAR"

pairing: eventual harringrove. part 1

TW: Implied child abuse. Racism. Slurs implied but not used.

When Mama was around, Billy was allowed to embrace his identity. He was allowed to acknowledge his differences, and was able to find pride in his darker toned skin. He was his Mama's Brown Baby Bear.

She would scoop him into her arms, whispering into his ear as she tickled his sides, "repeat after me, Little Bear; I am strong. I am loved. I am an amazing young black man who will thrive." 

Billy always struggled to repeat after his mother, he was only four, so he more often than not botched the words, but she beamed brightly and kissed his nose every time. 

By age ten, the affirmations didn't stop, but they became less and less helpful. His father would make it a point to remind Billy he wasn't light enough, wasn't white enough to be his son.

It wasn't the worst his dad could dish out, Billy knew as much, but it still hurt. The punches hurt more than the words did technically, but the words left behind deeper scars.

What did hurt him was when his mother left him at twelve. It hurt when she stopped accepting his calls from the number she'd given him with the promise to always answer. 

It hurt when his father would call him out of his name, would call him the same slur he called black people he'd see simply existing outside. 

The word never sat right with Billy, not when it was directed at himself, or his mother, nor when it was aimed at a random person who happened to look like him.

When Susan came around, bringing her brat of a daughter with her, the boy was less than thrilled. After they moved in, things became more strained between Billy and his father.

Susan was nice enough, she smiled at Billy when he came home from classes with Max, she always gave him the corner piece when she'd make brownies. He doesn't remember telling her it was his favorite, but she seemed to know. 

She wasn't his mother, she could never be, but she wasn't the worst. She wasn't as terrible as the other women his father dated before they'd met. She even sometimes patched Billy up when Neil lost his shit, going as far as to kiss the crown of his head before leaving him to stew in his feelings and aches.

Max was annoying, to put it lightly, she never stopped asking where his real mother was, why he was never with her. She bragged about how often she saw her father, while Billy couldn't even get his mother to answer the phone. Not that she knew that for a fact. 

Neil now had his perfect white family. To him, Billy was just the darkness that invaded their light, casting them in a world of shame and general ugliness. 

With his mom gone, Billy scrapped the daily words of encouragement, he largely stopped identifying with anything that could've tied him to the woman who swore to never leave his side. He wished he could rid himself of the skin that would give away his inability to ever truly fit in, but even with lightening creams and avoiding the sun, despite the beach once being his safe haven, he remained darker than his family members. He remained darker than society would ever grow to accept.

The boy was darker than his father, and by default, Susan and Max, but he was lighter than his mother, much lighter. If he didn't tan, he was light enough to pass as majority white. 

Not enough for people to necessarily forget he was black, but enough that kids his age easily ignored that knowledge. 

California was a mixed pot of races, so it wasn't a big deal that Billy looked different from the rest of his family. Everyone knew him, and his dad, so there was hardly ever an issue on that front. When you saw Billy Hargrove, you knew who his father was.

Hawkins was different. Everyone gawked at him, gossiping about the new black boy in town. They didn't realize his father was Neil, they didn't understand how Max was his sister or how Susan was his mom.

She wasn't his mom, but to the small town who knew nothing of their newest occupants, she was.

By month two, Billy had taken his place at the top of the social pyramid. Girls and guys alike were enthralled by the new kid.

He remembers in his first two weeks when a scrawny looking kid came up to him and asked him if he'd been adopted by a white family, and if that's why he was so dark compared to the little red-head they've seen him with.

What Billy doesn't remember is punching the boy in the face, doesn't remember shoving him to the ground with a snarl and some empty thing of a threat.

After that spread, nobody bothered to ask Billy any personal questions about his family and whether he belonged with them.

When Steve met Billy, the older boy instantly took to him, and vice versa. They became inseparable, always being seen together or with the other lingering nearby.

Steve's parents loved Billy, they remembered everything Steve told them about the younger boy and then some. They knew he was allergic to apples and pears, but would eat them anyway if he saw them, because he lacked self control or preservation, so they stopped buying the fruits altogether. They knew he startled easily from loud voices and stomping. They knew Billy apparently had a mean streak, a side to him that they've never been privy to. They've seen the aftermath of it all, the busted lips, black eyes, fractured ribs and admittedly much worse. 

What they didn't see, what nobody saw, not even Steve, was the set of hands and work boots that brought one those wounds, some of which turned into scars. No one heard the repeated use of slurs aimed at the boy whose true smile could light the entire town alone. 

One day, Billy had blond dreads, the same ones he rolled into Hawkins sporting, the next he had a buzz cut and bruised ribs to match. He tried to sell Steve a story about some asshole outside of town, but when the brunet asked Billy to explain the haircut, the boy had fallen silent. 

Brown skin quickly shaded red, and before Steve knew what was happening, Billy was dissolving into a pool of tears, his breathing unsteady as he fought a round of hiccups. The taller of the two was unsure how to approach his best friend who sat in his living room crying, especially when he could hear the sound of his mother's car pulling into the driveway.

[weixuldo]

Unconditionally// ch 18

Anakin x Reader

(A/N: so Anakin is supppeeer emotional in this one, so don’t b alarmed when you see him crying lol. this episode deals w mentions of weight loss and implies anakin has been in sort of a depressive episode since the events of ch 17, so proceed w caution?)

with graduation coming up, you haven’t had time to talk with Anakin about what happened.

Warnings: weight loss, unhealthy eating habits, mentions of verbal degradation, depressive episodes, cursing, miscommunication, self hatred

________________________________________

After the fight with Anakin, you distanced yourself from him for a little while. You still picked up the kids from school and hung out with Ben and Ahsoka, but you hadn’t seen him in a few weeks. You had too much going on in your academic life to deal with that the stress of your relationship.

You still loved him, but you couldn’t handle it if he didn’t feel the same way, so you decided to ignore him. He sent you so many messages and calls but you couldn’t bring yourself to open them. 

Obviously, you cared about him and you would never wish ill upon him, but deep down you hoped he regretted what he had done. 

About a week after the incident, you called Ben to check in on how Anakin was doing physically. He had dislocated his shoulder from the fall and was supposed to wear a sling for around two weeks. You felt awful that he injured himself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to visit him.

Ben had been taking care of him while you were busy with school and getting everything in line for graduation. Speaking of which, graduation was only two weeks away. 

Silky black fabric ran through your fingers as you steamed the sides of your graduation gown. Recently you had been thinking about your future; you were becoming a true adult and it was time to plan for the long run. 

After many sleepless nights, you decided you were going to resign from your babysitting position, not that you really saw it as a job anymore. Anakin hadn’t officially paid you in months, instead he would pay your bills or buy you things and in all honesty, you would rather just be there with them than worry about a paycheck. You still wanted to help out with the kids, you just needed to keep your schedule open for future career endeavors. 

As of now, you weren't quite sure where you and Anakin stood, the two of you never really talked about the future, but you knew you wanted to be with him. Technically the two of you were dating, but it often felt like more than that, since you basically lived with him. Though, in light of recent events, the two of you weren’t in the best place. 

You knew you should listen to his apologies, but you didn’t know if you would want to be with someone who was so vicious to you…even though it was one time, who’s to say he wouldn’t do it again?

Just then you heard your phone begin to ring. Odd. It was Ben.

“Hello?”

Hello there, Y/N. I’m sorry to ask this on such short notice, but unfortunately some unexpected work stuff has fallen into my lap and I need to take care of it. I have to go to the office and won’t be back til late tomorrow, probably. I hate to bother you, but Ashoka also isn’t back from her trip yet and someone needs to-

“I’ll be there in a few” you sighed, knowing what Ben was talking about.

I’m sorry Y/N, I’ll be back as quickly as I can

“It’s ok, Ben.” You said in a neutral tone.

Thank you.

After you hung up the phone you took a deep breath. You hadn't seen Anakin in a good while and you were a little nervous. Was he going to be mad at you for ignoring him? Was he going to be mean?

With a calming exhale, you gathered your things and headed to your car.

__________________________________________

The white mansion faded into view as you drove up the long driveway, an odd feeling of deja-vu brushed over you. 

You walked to the door, taking a brief moment before entering. On the drive you decided you should tell Anakin about your decision to resign. You didn’t know how he’d react but you needed to let him know. 

With that, you gripped the doorknob and opened the door.

Calming scents of lavender filled your senses as you entered the corridor. Everything looked the same, but there was an uncanny aura of melancholy. The sounds of the television drew you to the living room. There, Leia and Luke sat on the couch, lazily watching cartoons. 

A feeling of guilt washed over you, the kids didn’t understand why you suddenly disappeared from their life. But you were being mature today, so you walked over to them.

Luke was the first to notice you, his blue eyes brightened immediately as he stared at you in awe. He began to sit up which shifted Leia.

“Hey! What are-“ Leia began to protest.

“Hey buddy” You smiled at Luke.

Leia’s head whipped towards you and her eyes widened.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed, hopping off of the couch.

Both twins raced to embrace you, you giggled and held them tightly.

“Where were you?”

“Are you staying?”

“Why did you leave us?”

“Do you still love us?” 

Questions bombarded you and you began to answer.

“Ok, ok, You guys know I am almost done with school, right? So in two weeks I have my graduation ceremony and I have been super busy preparing. And to answer your question, I’ll be staying over tonight.”

Two questions down.

“I didn’t want to leave you guys, but I have to finish school out strong. And do I love you? Of course, I will always love you guys.”

They smiled at your answers and Luke happily went back to the couch. Leia, on the other hand, was smarter than that.

“I know something is wrong… what’s going on?” She asked in a hushed tone. 

You couldn’t tell her what happened… at least not all of it.

“Your dad and I are going through a difficult time and we just needed some time away to think about things” you said with a sad smile.

“I’m sorry daddy was mean to you”

You were surprised at her apology, “Oh, um, thank you...its gonna be ok-“

“No, he shouldn't treat you like that.” She said, hugging you once more.

Her small hands gripped tightly onto your blouse and your heart began to tug. These kids meant so much to you and you truly didn’t want to leave them. 

“He really misses you… He asks Uncle Ben about you every day.”

You broke away from her embrace and offered a small smile, “Thank you Leia, I’m going to go check up on him now”.

She nodded and took her place next to her brother on the couch as you rose to go to Anakin’s room.

_____________________________________

Anakin glanced at the text he sent you over an hour ago.

“Can we talk?”

He sighed, you didn’t even read the message. 

The past few weeks had been hell for him; he constantly worried about you and felt awful about what he had done. He knew it was his fault but he couldn’t even get in contact with you to apologize.

Why did he say those horrible things to you? 

He knew how much those words hurt you and how insecure you were about people leaving, yet he still managed to fuck it up. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he envisioned your defeated face from that day.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knocking on the door. He turned his face from the door in an attempt to hide his glassy eyes, before saying a simple “come in”.

He didn't want to burden Ben with his feelings, so he sniffled the rest of his tears away before clearing his throat.

“Ben, have you heard from Y/N today?”

He shifted his gaze towards the entrance to the room, but instead of his bearded friend, he was met with your beautiful face.

“Y/N…”

________________________________________

You took a deep breath before knocking on the familiar door, once you heard his voice you entered. The room was uncharacteristically disheveled, clothes, medical equipment, and papers were scattered around. 

Anakin also looked different, his hair was a little longer, he was growing stubble, but most shocking was his size. He still looked decently healthy, but he definitely lost a good amount of weight.

“Y/N…” he almost whispered.

You focused your attention to his blue eyes, they were more dull than normal but you swear you saw them brighten when you made eye contact.

You exhaled a shaky breath and walked closer to his bed.

“Hello, Anakin” 

“You came” he said hopefully.

“Ben said there was no help available tonight” you said neutrally.

The light in his eyes faded and he swallowed. 

“Oh.”

Suddenly a wave of guilt washed over you, was he like this because you had been ignoring him? 

No, no. 

For the first time in your life, you were going to put yourself first. You glanced a the clock, about dinner time.

“I’m going to start dinner”

You began to walk back to the kitchen when you felt one of Anakin’s hands lightly holding your wrist.

“Y/N, can we talk…please” he pleaded.

You looked down at his hand, “Please let go of me” you said as your voice wavered. 

His eyes widened and he released his hold on you, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t”.

You tightened your lips and nodded, “It’s ok… I’m going to get dinner now”.

He looked down and nodded, “ok”.

________________________________________

You sat the kids down to eat at the table as you finished getting Anakin’s meal prepared. The two of them happily indulged in your cooking.

“MMM! This is so much better than uncle Ben’s cooking” Luke exclaimed, licking his lips.

“Luke, that was rude! But... I agree” Leia admitted.

“Well, thank you guys! I’m so glad you enjoy” 

They threw a few more compliments your way until Anakin’s meal was ready to take back.

“Ok, I’m going to bring your dad his dinner now” you said as you walked down the hallway.

Anakin was once again turned away from the door when you entered. You placed his food on a tray that sat over his lap. He was only wearing one of the bionic arms, which were better for precision tasks, not really eating. But you knew he needed to eat before he lost too much weight so you asked if you could sit beside him.

He looked surprised at your request but complied. You silently took your place beside him and grabbed the utensils. 

After scooping some of the mashed potatoes, you brought the spoon to his mouth.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I know it's hard to eat with that arm on, but you need to eat, so I want to help you”

His eyes softened and he nodded and opened his mouth. You felt your heart pull, why did you have to have such intense feelings for him? You swear you could have forgiven him for everything if he continued to look at you that way.

“How’s your shoulder? Ben told me you dislocated it” 

He cleared his throat and answered. “Yeah, it’s better, still a little sore, but putting it in a sling for the first two weeks really helped”.

“That’s good”

Once he was done with his meal, you went to clean the kitchen up. The kids were upstairs working on homework as you scrubbed away at the dishes.

You still loved him, just as much as before and you hated seeing him like this.

But that's why you were afraid, what if you never stopped loving him and ended up breaking your own heart in the process. You didn’t know if you could take that.

Maybe you just needed to distance yourself and work on building your own future. 

You headed back towards his room to continue with the nightly routine; some physio, shower, and get ready for bed. Luckily today was his light physio day, so all you really had to do was monitor his stretches. He made some improvement since you had seen him last, but not at the pace he did with his arms. 

You started to tidy his room as he finished up his exercises. Smells of his laundry detergent graced your senses as you gathered the clothes he had not yet hung up, you missed that scent. The random papers were gathered and neatly stacked on one of the end tables and you organized his shelves.

Once you were done you went back to his side.

“You really didn’t have to do that…but thank you” he said, nodding towards the rest of the room.

You offered a small smile, “No worries, Anakin”.

For the first time all night, he seemed content.

_____________________________________

You shivered as you felt the cool bathroom tile beneath your feet. You helped Anakin undress and into his shower chair. 

You went through the motions of cleaning him as he shyly allowed you to help.

Much to his chagrin, Ben had been helping him the last few weeks, but in a way, he got used to it. 

Now you were here, he knew his lifestyle hadn’t been the healthiest since he last saw you; he hadn’t been eating as much and with his shoulder injury, he wasn’t able to go as hard at physio. To be honest, he felt deeply insecure. 

You could sense his discomfort as you helped him bathe. Of course you remembered what he said to you, but you still felt sympathetic towards him. Also, you two wouldn’t be able to have a mature conversation unless he felt more comfortable. 

You turned the water off and reached for his towel to help him dry off. Gently, you ran your thumb over his cheek to feel his stubble, he turned towards you with a confused look.

“Would you like me to shave this for you?” you asked gently.

He stared at you for a moment as if he couldn’t believe you just offered that. 

“Yes, please,” he answered.

You nodded and went to get a towel, shaving cream, and his razor. You laid the towel over him and grabbed the shaving cream. This used to be a regular occurrence for the two of you, you would often shave his face when it felt too prickly when you kissed, but of course that had been awhile.

You sprayed the cream into your hands and warmed it up with your breath, you knew he didn’t like the sensation of cold shaving cream. 

Gently, you spread the cream along his jawline, cheeks, and mouth. You had never seen Anakin with this much facial hair, not that it was even that much.

Anakin’s eyes lingered on your face as you began to shave him, He missed you so much- how could he have said all of that to you?

How could he have tried to hit you?

Deep inside he felt his well of emotions begin to stir. Fuck.

You immediately drew the razor away when you saw Anakin tearing up, you searched for a cut but you didn’t see any.

“Anakin, are you alright? What did I do?” you asked worriedly.

That just made him cry harder, after everything you still put his needs first. He sniffled and blinked away the tears.

“Nothing, you didn’t do anything wrong” he said apologetically.

You took the towel and wiped away the rest of the shaving residue and then focused on him. 

“Then what's wrong, Ani?” you cursed yourself for slipping up and using your name for him.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so much and these past few weeks have been hell without you”.

You felt a shiver go down your spine, you had heard that before… one of your previous partners would promise you love and you would fall for it, in reality they were just manipulating you with their words. You wanted to believe Anakin wasn’t doing that, but it was hard. So hard.

“Please..Anakin, don’t”

“I know I fucked up, but I’m so, so sorry. I miss you here, I miss you.” he continued as you became more and more anxious

“I should have never said those things to you, you are worth so much more than I could even describe” his voice cracked.

“But you did.”

The bathroom stilled, only the movement was the residual steam from the shower.

Anakin gulped and cast his gaze downward. 

“You did, Anakin.”

“I know….will you ever forgive me?” he asked, defeated.

You took a deep breath, you really didn’t want to have this conversation right now.

“In time, I just needed some distance to think. I still care for you deeply, Anakin.”

“Do you still love me?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

“Of course, I can’t just stop loving you Ani” you admitted.

His shoulders relaxed slightly and he exhaled, “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I just want you to know that I love you too…I have been and will continue to”.

You felt your emotions stirring in you; tears pricked at your eyes. You bit your lip and tried to calm yourself. 

“Thank you, Anakin” was all you could muster.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment longer before you proposed moving out of the bathroom. His body was warm to the touch as you helped him into his bed; you connected the prosthetic arms he would use at night and prepared a catheter for him. As you moved around the room his watchful gaze followed your figure. 

Once everything was situated you took a seat at the foot of his bed and turned towards him. You didn’t want to do this now, but it would be cruel not to let him know of your decision.

“Anakin, I just wanted to officially let you know that after my graduation I will no longer be able to nanny for the kids”. 

His face fell and the color drained from his face; was this it? Was this the end?

“F/N, I- Was it because of me?” he anxiously asked.

You shook your head, “No, I just need to focus on my career and I can’t keep a college job forever, we both know that.”

“That being said, I will still help with the twins if you wish and I will always be here for them, I just can’t technically be their nanny anymore” you explained the best you could.

“I understand. Does this mean…” he drifted his gaze from yours.

“Does this mean we’re over?”

You physically felt your heart squeeze as you observed his pained expression.

“No… I told you I just needed some time” you sighed.

“I just can’t be someone you settled for, Anakin. I am not going to be someone’s second best ever again. And from what you said that day-” you paused to collect your thoughts before continuing.

“I am not a desperate girl who pounced on you because I thought you were “easy”. I care for you Anakin, so much more than you know and I can only hope you feel the same for me” you calmly explained.

He looked ashamed as you lifted yourself from his bed and walked towards the door. Before leaving, you glanced back at him one more time.

“Are we ok?” he weakly asked.

“We will be” you answered with a sad smile as you closed his door.

Once he knew you were down the hall he rolled onto his side and allowed his tears to fall. Why did he say those awful things? No matter how many apologies he administered, nothing would change the fact that he said them.

His heart raced as he worried over the future; he didn't know what he would do if he lost you, all he knew was that it would shatter his heart.

***

(a/n: phewww, this chapter was long asffff sorry for repetitive phrases or words, my brain is kinda all over the place rn)

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Taglist: @katsukiswrld , @wtf-andys , @angeelcoree , @jetiikote , @khaleesihavilliard, @sxoulchvn, @sakura-amethyst , @dottodottoo , @vader-is-hot , @circuloctm , @jellydodger , @shadowheads-shitshow

[sprouts-xreader-stories]

“stupid fucking sickness i swear to god-”

Requested : Uh… Technically?

Genre : Fluff, Comfort, Canon X Reader, Canon X Y/N, Darnell X Reader, Darnell X Y/N

POV : Third Person Semi-Omniscient

Warnings : Cursing. Darnell being a pyromaniac idiot and very overprotective

Your call scared him.

“Baby… Can you come over, please…”

You sounded like you were dying; voice hoarse and cracking before a rather violent cough took over. Darnell nearly dropped his phone in the damn fire he’d made in his panic. Each step to your apartment felt too short. Each stupid red light that stopped him from using the crosswalks felt too long.

“…c’mon, god dammit…” He hissed, tapping his foot against the concrete. He sent a quick text, since you’d disconnected. “omw. don’t worry, I’ll be there”.

He rushed to move across the road, ignoring the honks from the car horns. Darnell didn’t care. He just wanted to get to you.

“Yeah, hey, I don’t got time for this. Hurry.” Darnell hissed as he threw his ID at the woman who was eerily insistent on making him check in. “We need to be careful,” she replied, taking an agonizingly long time to get his info into the database and make sure he was actually supposed to be here.

“Look, uh… Sandra,” he rolled his eyes, “my partner’s up in one of these rooms and they sounded like they were dying. I need you to hurry so I can check. Please.” He was borderline begging for the attendant to rush. She scoffed and handed him his things back, “There. You’re checked in. Now go away.”

And she went back to solitaire while he rushed up the stairs.

“…415…415, where’s-” He paused when he saw the door to your room. He slammed into the door, paranoid as all hell that you’d just be crumbling on the floor.

But you weren’t.

You were lying on the couch, in a mountain of tissues, eyes barely open. “…hey…” you managed. “Don’t. Don’t you dare fucking speak yet,” Darnell groaned. “Wh- Are you okay? What happened here-?” He questioned, not bothering to let you speak before one of his large hands were on your forehead.

“…Christ, baby, you’re burning… And not in the good way,” he murmured. “…stupid goddamn cold that’s been going around, it’s the middle of summer, what the hell do you want…”

He walked to your kitchen. He knew where everything was kept. Top cabinet on the right. Darnell reached up to grab what he needed before grabbing a random small bag and putting everything inside. Then he made his way to you.

“Open.” He grabbed your chin and lightly pushed on your cheeks, forcing your mouth open with a gentle touch. The thermometer was under your tongue. “…are you fucking kidding me-?” He mumbled, looking at the numbers. “Babes. This is 101.2°F. You’re not okay.”

He insisted on cooking for you. Despite the pyromania, he was quite a good cook when he wanted to be. Each bite was spoon fed to you. He didn’t want you moving at all. Cartoons on low for background noise, the blankets you were bundled in (unfortunately) pulled off of your form — “Even though you’re cold, your body is overheating, so the blankets gotta go” — with a flourish.

Sure, you were sick, but he made you feel just a bit better.

@mochapop223 , @eclipsacanbe

[oitommothetease]

The Arrangement (3)

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 1.2k words

Warning: mob au, Carol is lowkey dark, more like soft dark

It wasn't technically hard to find you or everything about you. In fact, it was quite easy. After two phone calls, Carol knew it all—from your favorite restaurant to your favorite Pringles flavor. Well, the latter took more than a few phone calls, but surely, you wouldn't know that she had men tailing you wherever you went.

There was also another thing among the list of things you didn't know, Carol paid a visit to your ex-boss - the one that fired you—for a conversation and with a price that made him call you back and hire you.

And when you received a call from your old boss to rehire you, you were more than surprised—somewhat shocked even. It was so unlikely that it made you doubt it, but then you shrugged it off as your good luck and happily accepted your source of income back. There was also a raise in your salary—not enough that it would seem suspicious, but enough that it seemed odd. When you questioned it, your superior brushed it off as an apology and said everyone was getting a raise. So again, you overlooked these things and by the next Monday, you were back at the school.

Going back to work was just about the same, but you started having this weird feeling that someone was around you—following you. You felt the same way when you packed your stuff from the classroom and now as you reached your apartment. Initially, you assumed it was a kid playing pranks or a parent waiting around to talk to you, but the feeling still retained after almost a week. You weren't confrontational at all. And even if you were, you wouldn’t dare to think anything of this paranoia because it has been just that—you were being paranoid. It was not real.

As you made your way towards work the next day, you noticed a car—a very familiar one. Instantly, you remembered it from that night—you recalled how Carol whispered dirty thoughts in your ear as her hands explored your body in that same car. The mere thought of that night was enough to run a shiver down your spine and instinctively, you clenched your thighs together as the memories of that night came rushing back.

It couldn't be her. Why would she even come back? The only logical reason for why she would return was to end you. You knew something about her identity that would jeopardize her freedom. So if she were back, it would have to be to kill you. You immediately shoved that thought aside, ignoring the fear that was blooming in your stomach now. Tons of people have that sort of car, you reasoned.

You collected yourself and made your way inside the school. The rest of the day went by as usual. And when the day ended, you plugged your AirPods in and started collecting your stuff—packing for the day. Placing your laptop in the bag, the answer sheets you needed to mark were safely put in your drawer when you felt hands around your waist. Before you could react, The person pulled your body closer to theirs as they peppered your neck with kisses.

“God, baby. I missed you,” the person, Carol—you could recognize her voice anywhere—murmured as her mouth made its way towards your jaw, showering more kisses there.

“Carol,” you took hold of her hands as you tried to pry her away from you and once that happened, you turned to look at her. She looked the same—it was dumb to think about because it had only been a few weeks since you last saw her. People don't change drastically in a short period. But you noticed that under the light of the sun, she was more gorgeous during the day. “What are you doing here?” you inquired, looking around for people like you were a high schooler meeting somebody you weren't supposed to be with.

You gasped in surprise when she ignored your pondering and landed her mouth on yours, taking the opportunity to invade your mouth with her tongue while her fingers started unbuttoning your blouse. This time, you shoved her off not so gently, “What the fuck are you doing here? This is my workplace,” you raised your hand in an exasperated manner, “There are children out there for god's sake.”

Your temper did not seem to rub off on her as she smiled slyly and took your hands in her as she suggested, “Tonight, then? My place.”

“No.”

“No?” She looked taken aback, letting go of your hands as if she finally understood and took the hint. But the look on her face stung you. It made you feel like shit for disappointing her.  You remembered how proud she looked when you did as she pleased, and it made you feel really good, so to see her disappointed in your answer—in you—had you leaning towards her and apologizing.

“I’m sorry. I just have a lot going on,” you explained, “I don't even have my own roof over my head and I just got my job back and money is tight-”

“I will pay you.”

“What?” you scoffed, offended by the suggestion.

“I can pay for you,” she insinuated each word slowly, and before you could open your mouth to reject or argue, she spoke again. “It won’t be like a debt and you can return the favor in a different form.”

You folded your arm around your chest, “And what form would that be?"

“ Well," she suggested, "Think of it as a mutually beneficial arrangement. You live with me in my house and enjoy the luxuries and easier life with no struggle for money. And I—well, I get you.”

“Does this mutually beneficial arrangement of yours,” you queried, quoting the term in the air. “Gives me the liberty to say no.”

Carol looked at you with a clear offense on her face. She wasn't going to force you. It was true that she wanted you in more ways than she could comprehend, but she desired you to want her—beg for her—cum for her and eventually, fall for her. And all she needed to do to get you to play by her rules was a little persuasion, and she only intended to do that. “Of course, angel. Everything that happens between us will be consensual.”

At your hesitation, Carol spoke again. “I can get it documented that would protect us and we can sign it. That would make you feel sure and safe. And you can end it anytime you want. No strings attached.” She looked at you expectantly, waiting—and when you didn't speak she added, “Do we have an arrangement?”

You were hesitant and scared. You liked to think that you had some sort of control over your life, and you wouldn't give things like money more importance than your values. But on the other hand, her offer did seem tempting—you wouldn't have to sleep on your friend’s sofa anymore and in your head, you were winning both ways because you would get all the fancy stuff you've always wanted- and mostly you would get Carol. You didn’t know what her offer encompassed of, but you would be lying to yourself, if you said you weren’t intrigued by it. So, without thinking further, you nodded, “Yes, we do.”

⁓⁓

TAGS: @bubblespeare @bananapipedreams​  @step-intoyour-power

[clarepreed]

Malinger

Story Summary and Content - 4,423 words. Manipulative Jules tricks her ignorant boyfriend Alex into resuscitating her. Non-consensual inclusion in fetish activity. Asthma, on-site resuscitation, incompetent rescuer, explicit sex.

--

Malinger, verb: to pretend or exaggerate incapacity or illness. - from Miriam Webster Jules 11AM

Stop texting u know I am at work. u been texting me all morning!

Jules stared hard at her phone. Notifications were pinging on her computer, all from work colleagues on Slack and customers on Deskpro, but she tuned them out.

The text was from her boyfriend, Alex. They were both technically “at work,” but Jules worked from home. If she were being honest with herself, she could admit she’d texted him too many times that morning, not to mention the previous week, but she didn’t see why he had to be so hostile.

He’d been increasingly like this, insisting on more “space.” Comments like that tended to have the opposite effect on her. She was tempted to text back with: what’s wrong? or talk to me!

Jules took a deep breath and raked her hand through her long, dark curls. She always put effort in from the waist up: Work-appropriate blouse, styled hair, make-up on point. From the waist down she was wearing leggings and going barefoot.

She took a moment to fire off a few quick responses on her computer, though her mind was still on Alex.

I need to do something about him, she thought. He’d cared for her once. Loved her. But she could grant that she was a lot to put up with. And he wasn’t really one for communication, even on the healthier side. They’d been together for three years, lived together in the house her grandmother left her. She saw him every day, but she wasn’t sure he even remembered why they’d gotten together in the first place.

She remembered. He was hot, good in bed, always kept a job, did his half of the chores, made her laugh…

And I can tell him what to do and he does it because I typically know better. 

Alex had always been an anxious person, and when it came to any new situations he tended to freeze up or avoid them altogether. He relied on her to make phone calls, deal with emergencies, handle social engagements. She was the one who talked to neighbors when they trespassed on the property, the one who decided when someone needed to go to the ER, the one who knew what invitations they should accept and which they should decline. She was even the one who fished the neighbor’s stupid kid out of the koi pond, saving the boy from drowning even though both of them witnessed it happening.

That was a bit of an anti-boner, if she was honest with herself. She sometimes wondered what he would do if she needed his help. She had asthma, though it was well-controlled with daily medication. He knew she had it, and he’d seen her use her rescue inhaler a few times, but he didn’t seem interested in learning anything more.

She fantasized about him taking care of her, not that she’d ever said anything to him. At first, they were simple, innocent fantasies. He’d take the afternoon off to take her to an appointment with her doctor. He’d pick up her prescriptions, or retrieve her inhaler from her purse. Maybe he’d help administer the puffs. He’d sit with her, anxiously monitoring her breathing while they waited for an ambulance. Or he’d perform CPR on her if she went into respiratory arrest.

Just thinking about it made her wet.

Jules set her status as “away” and hurried into the bedroom. She could use a little “me time” with one of her toys and an OPandER resuscitation video.

11:17AM

Jules lay on the bed, savoring the afterglow. She’d pulled her leggings off and lay splayed on the bed. Her thighs were slick and shiny, and she still had a hot pink dildo plunged deep into her pussy. She lightly rubbed her sensitive clit, mulling over the thoughts she’d been having about Alex resuscitating her. His big hands between her breasts, pumping up and down. His mouth on hers, filling her with his warm breath.

She’d never shared her resus fetish with him. She couldn’t imagine that he’d understand. 

Of course, now they were hardly talking, let alone having even vanilla sex.

I can make him remember how he feels about me, she thought, the first tendrils of an idea stroking her brain. I can make him realize he can’t live without me.

3:00PM

u ok?

Jules took her sweet time answering, finishing up a report and uploading it before she scooped up her phone to respond.

I’m okay, she texted back. I need a favor, if you don’t mind. I can’t find my inhaler.

do u think it might be n my truck?

I think it might be at Ashlyn’s, and she’s out of town. I had the NP call one in, do you mind swinging by the pharmacy after work?

His response took a while; she didn’t know if he’d gotten busy with a customer, or if she’d thrown him off by asking him to do something important for her. 

will u be ok that long?

I’m fine, just a little tight from all this stupid ragweed. And my boss is being a dick, that always makes me feel short of breath, lol

Ill get ur prescription where do I go?

CVS, thank you so much babe

4:30PM

hey my boss let me leave early i am at CVS now. u ok?

I looked again for my inhaler. I’m really uncomfortable. I signed out of work early.

line is really long let u know when i leave

Ok.

can u do anything else to feel better? until I get there?

4:47PM

sorry line was long leaving now

might need ER

shit b there n 15 hurrying

Jules looked at herself in the mirror. She’d washed her face and reapplied makeup. Foundation that was a little too light for her, plenty of mascara, no blush. She’d even dug out the cool-toned purple lip stain that she’d worn only once because she thought it made her look a little cyanotic. 

Looking herself over in the full-length mirror, Jules decided to undo her blouse a couple more buttons, making sure her lacy bra was visible. During the work day, she’d worn a camisole under the bouse, but she’d taken that off so that her bra was visible through the thin fabric of the blouse. She’d also changed into a high-waisted pair of leggings that flattered her figure.

Hurrying down the basement steps, she found the breaker box and swung open the gray door. Alex had labeled all of the breakers, and she found the one for the room where the modem and router were housed. She flipped the breaker off, then reset it halfway so that it looked like it had tripped. Closing the box, she hurried upstairs. They didn’t get cell service at the house, and relied on Wi-Fi calling; this would prevent him from calling 9-1-1. She wasn’t sure if it bothered her to waste resources so much as she didn’t want the fun to end too soon; the volunteer fire department was just down the road and answered all medical calls in that area.

After a moment’s thought, she washed the dirt from the basement off her feet and slathered on some moisturizer.

Then she sat her phone on the kitchen table and laid down in the floor to wait.

She took a moment to scrub her chest and neck with her hands, hoping it would look like she’d clawed herself in desperation. She gathered her hair and draped it over her face. Then she arranged her limbs; legs just slightly spread, one hand limp on her stomach, the other by her face.

As she waited to hear the sound of Alex’s truck on the gravel drive, she practiced keeping her eyes half-lidded and staring.

When she finally did hear his tires, she started hyperventilating, hoping it would help her hold her breath longer.

Alex 5:00PM

Alex took the turn into their drive too fast, his truck tires kicking gravel and the cab bouncing him around as he dug a fresh rut. He reached the house in record time, parking and snatching up the white prescription bag before he sprinted to the house. His hands were shaking so hard it took him a minute to unlock the door.

“Jules? Jules, I have your—” His mouth shut with a click when he walked into the kitchen. Jules was sprawled on her back, face covered by her dark hair.

He froze for several seconds before he managed to make himself move, diving for her limp body. The bag fell useless next to her lifeless form as he swept her curls back from her face.

Jules stared up at him, eyes half open. Her blouse was partly undone, and he could see reddened marks down her throat and across her chest like she’d clawed herself. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, gentle at first and then harder. Her head swayed, her staring eyes sliding back and forth with each shake.

“JULES? JULES! Can you hear me?”

She didn’t move or speak in response. He gripped her shoulders hard, trying to force himself to think.

Her body was warm to the touch, so if she was dead, she hadn’t been dead long. 

She can’t be fucking dead. She just texted me… Hell, I’m doing all this in the wrong order.

He dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed 9-1-1. To his surprise, the call didn’t connect. He stared at the screen for a while before he realized that he had no service at all. The Wi-Fi wasn’t connected.

“HOW IS THERE NO FUCKING SERVICE?!” he bellowed. He leaned over and patted her face with increasing force, her head rocking. Then he slapped her. She made a noise and her eyelids closed, but she didn’t move again. 

“Jules! Jules?” He grasped both shoulders, shook her twice, then clambered to his feet. He spotted her phone on the kitchen table, scooped it up, and dropped back to his knees next to his girlfriend. “What’s your fucking pin?! Jules, what’s your—Oh!”

He grasped her limp hand and pressed her thumb to the screen of the phone, then tried to call 9-1-1 again. No service.

“Fuck!” He dropped her phone with a clatter.

What about the neighbors?

They’d never met half of them, and the rest lived pretty far away. The people with the koi pond had moved. He could drive to the rescue station, but he’d have to get in his truck and leave Jules alone.

I could carry her to the truck…

“Hey,” he said, leaning close to her again. She was so still. He patted her face again, then put his hand on her stomach. “Hey, are you…breathing…?”

Alex leaned over, bringing his ear close to her mouth, and waited. And waited some more.

She’s not fucking breathing, he thought. 

“Oh, oh God, what do I…?” He briefly closed his eyes, feeling his heart pound. He’d taken CPR years and years ago through the Boy Scouts, back when his father thought a scout master would be able to “straighten him out.”

ABC’s. A is for………

AIRWAY!

Alex leaned over her and put one hand on Jules’ forehead and the other on her chin, then tipped her head back. The motion extended her neck, making her look vulnerable. He leaned over her and listened again. She still wasn’t breathing.

B is for breathing. He remembered this part, pinching the nose of the mannequin and then breathing into it. The maneuver felt different on a living person, but he managed, closing her nose and sealing his mouth around hers. He gave her a breath, watching her breasts rise, pressing against the fabric of her blouse. When he released the seal, her chest fell. He gave her another breath.

C is for circulation. Alex reached for her wrist, pressing his fingers to the soft skin there. He couldn’t remember how far down or to the side (or not to the side at all) he was supposed to check. He moved his fingers around for a while, felt his own pulse throbbing.

“Fuck, baby, I can’t tell…”

Which is worse? Doing CPR if she doesn’t need it, or not doing CPR if she needs it?

I guess the second.

He looked down at her still chest.

Should I take her shirt off?

Shaking his head in confusion and frustration, he reached down and grasped the shirt by the lapels, wrenching it open and sending buttons pinging in every direction. Her wine-colored bra was front-clasped like she preferred. He was certainly familiar with taking off her bras, quickly flipping clasp open and then baring her chest.

He did not remember much about performing chest compressions other than what Jules said when she watched TV medical dramas. She was always complaining that the chest compressions in the shows were ridiculous. Too fast, too slow, on the wrong part of the chest... 

He linked his hands together and rested them between her breasts, pressing down hesitantly.

“One…” He did remember that he was supposed to count. He pressed harder the second and third time, until finally he pushed down so hard that her breasts bounced and she expelled a huff of air. That’s gotta be it. “Four, five, six, seven, eight… Jesus, baby, you have to breathe, I don’t know what I’m doing! Uh… fourteen, fifteen!”

He pressed his mouth to hers. Her skin was warm and pliant, and it would have been a lot like kissing her if she wasn’t so limp. It was actually a lot like trying to kiss her in her sleep, only scarier. Her chest rose and fell two more times.

He switched back to compressions, his thrusts inconsistent in speed and depth as he concentrated more on counting than anything else. “One, two, three…”

Her breasts wobbled as he pushed down, her stomach bulging just a bit, restrained as it was by the high waistband of her leggings. He kept forcing his hands down between her breasts until he hit fifteen, then he grasped the waistband of her leggings and folded them down, yanking until he got them halfway down her thighs.

It will be easier for her to breathe, he thought, blinking in confusion when he caught the unmistakable whiff of her arousal. 

She didn’t have time for him to consider that, so he sealed his mouth over hers again and forced another breath down her throat.

“Please. Please, please, don’t die.” Another breath. “I don’t know what else to do! I’m so sorry!”

He straddled her like he’d seen on television, the change in posture making his compressions stronger and deeper. Air came rushing out of her, almost like a breathy moan. 

“…ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen!”

He laid down over top of her, her nipples grazing his chest, and pressed his mouth to hers. Now it really felt like kissing. He released her lips, took a deep breath, and breathed for her again. He sat back up and started shoving his hands between her breasts again.

Beneath him, Jules moved, her hips rolling against him.

Jules 5:00PM

Jules lay motionless on her back, listening as Alex found her lifeless body. He shouted at her, shook her. Even slapped her at one point, which made her break character and close her eyes. He’d noticed, but he didn’t seem to realize that she was conscious.

She heard his increasing desperation as he’d tried to call 9-1-1 from both cell phones.

“Hey!” His voice was loud, and she could feel his warmth close to her face. He patted her cheek again, and then she felt his hand rest on her stomach. “Hey, are you…breathing…?”

Finally! If I were really dying, I’d be fucked! As it was, she felt lightheaded.

“Oh, oh God, what do I….?”

I know you know CPR. Some version of it. Come on. Put your lips on mine, Alex.

She felt her heart skip a beat when he put his hands on her face, this time resting them on her forehead and her chin. He tipped her head back and leaned close to her mouth, listening and feeling for breath. She waited until he backed up a few inches before she let her air escape in a long, gentle exhalation.

Alex pinched her nose closed. She heard him take a deep breath, and then he sealed his mouth over hers, exhaling forcefully.

The rescue breath felt strange but wonderful, her brain confused by the forced breath, her lungs rejoicing, the fire between her thighs roaring. Her chest rose, then he broke the seal. She wasn’t sure how to release the air naturally, wasn’t sure how a dead person would do it, so she let it out in a rush, hoping he wouldn’t know any different.

He didn’t, and he gave her another deep breath.

Jules felt him break away, and then he was grasping her wrist, two of his fingers searching for the pulse point. He groped around a while, never settling long enough to actually find it.

“Fuck, baby, I can’t tell…”

What are you going to do about it, big boy?

A moment passed.

No, seriously, what are you going to do about it?

She felt his hands move to her chest, but instead of starting compressions he grasped both sides of her shirt and ripped it open. Then she felt him working on the clasp of her bra, popping it open and flipping the cups off her chest.

Not necessary, Alex, but hot as fuck.

Then she felt his hands press between her breasts, tentative and much too gentle. He increased the pressure, then seemed to say “screw it” and shoved his hands down hard. She let out an involuntary huff of air, her ribcage protesting as her sternum was forced down toward her heart.

“One, two, three, four….” The compressions hurt, and she didn’t know how long she could take the pain, though in this situation she was fortunate that he wasn’t quite pushing down to the correct depth. She allowed herself to suck in a sip of air, knowing that if she got too air-starved she would gasp in a far more noticeable breath at an inopportune time.

“Jesus, baby, you have to breathe! I don’t know what I’m doing!” He sounded terrified, and when he leaned over to press his mouth to hers again, she felt her pussy throb with need. His hand rested on her stomach, over the high waistband of her leggings, then slid up between her breasts to feel her chest rise and fall as he breathed into her.

He moved, switching back to his inconsistent compressions. She felt her ribcage forcefully cave and spring back. The pain was both burning and sharp, each compression simultaneously like the stab of a knife and a tap on her clit. 

“…twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen!” To her surprise, instead of breathing for her again he reached down, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her leggings. He yanked them down, tugging them past her hips and halfway down her thighs.

What are you doing? she thought, wondering if he had a paraphilia she didn’t know about, and then wondering if she would actually mind.

If he had a reason, he didn’t verbalize it, leaning over instead to give her a series of deep breaths, begging her not to die in between.

“Please. Please, please, don’t die!” He breathed for her again. “I don’t know what else to do! I’m so sorry!”

She was so wet she could feel herself oozing onto the floor. Alex straddled her, his hands coming down hard between her breasts. His compressions were much harder now, compelling her to exhale. She could feel her breasts wobbling, her stomach rippling. He forced a moan out of her, breathy enough that he didn’t catch on.

“…twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen!”

She felt his weight come down on top of her. Her breasts pressed against his chest. He pressed his mouth onto hers and forced another breath into her. Her heart hammered in her chest. He gave her another breath, then rose back up to start compressions again.

That was when her body betrayed her. She rolled her hips against him, bucking against his own confused body. She could feel his dick waking up, independent of his thinking brain.

She gasped then, knowing she had to “revive” or he’d catch on. Her back arched and she drew in a long, rasping breath that led to a series of coughs. She felt his weight disappear, then his hands on her face.

“Jules? Oh my God! Jules? Are you okay?!”

Alex 5:08PM

She gasped underneath him, her back arching up off the floor. He was so relieved he almost forgot the shameful stirring in his boxers.

Jules gasped and coughed weakly for a few moments before she opened her dark, confused-looking eyes. He reached over and found the paper bag with her inhaler in it, tore the top of the bag off. Then he reached down and slid his arm under her shoulders, scooping her into a seated position. She sagged against him, her heavy breasts swinging as he adjusted her body in his arms.

“You need to use this,” he said, clumsily removing the inhaler from its box and holding it out to her. “Please, just use it!”

He watched her take off the cap with shaking hands.

“I have to… prime it,” she wheezed, looking at him with a combination of trust and need that he’d never seen from her before.

“Can I do it?” He took the inhaler from her. “What do I do?”

“Shake it… several times. Then spray it in the air… away from… us.”

He complied, shaking it hard and then turning the mouthpiece away from them both and depressing the top. 

“Do that… whole thing… three more… times.” She coughed and leaned back against his arm, her eyes falling closed. Each time she breathed, he couldn’t help but watch her chest swell, her erect nipples rising and falling.

He started shaking the inhaler, though he called out: “Jules?”

She opened her eyes again, her eyes searching out his.

“Just making sure you’re still awake,” he said. His heart was still beating fast, and he took a deep breath.

Once he’d finished priming the inhaler for her, he handed it over and watched as she held it to her lips. She administered a pump, inhaling as the medication exited the inhaler. She did this a second time, then let her hand and the inhaler drop into her lap.

Alex wrapped his other arm around her and held her tight, trying not to notice as her naked breasts caressed the side of his arm. He pressed his lips to her temple. “Shit, Jules. I thought you were dead. The Wi-Fi is down, I didn’t know what to do…”

“You saved me,” she whispered, her eyes on his face. She looked a little healthier now, the pink of her lips seeming to shine through the bluish color her lips had been.

He leaned over to give her a quick kiss, then looked down at her half-naked body. She had a mottled section of darkening skin between her breasts. “Jesus, I bruised the shit out of you.” He moved his hand to the center of her chest, touching the bruised skin over her sternum.

“You did what you had to do,” she said. She sounded stronger, so he let her hold herself upright while he reached for the cups of her bra, intending to clasp it for her.

“Leave it,” she murmured. Then she reached for his hand and pressed it to one of her bare breasts. Her hardened nipple settled in the middle of his palm, and his fingers instinctively curled to give her a light squeeze.

Two things happened simultaneously. His dick went half mast, and his eyes went wide.

Jules 5:21PM

“What are you doing?!” Alex blurted, staring at her like she’d gone insane. Still, he was breathing hard and his eyes were dilated; he was interested.

“Almost dying, being brought back by you… I want you to fuck me, Alex. So I know I’m alive.” She was laying it on thick, but she thought by the look on his face that he was too mixed up to know what was up or down. 

“But…”

“Do you want me?” she whispered, her voice husky as she reached down to press her hand against the length of his hardening dick.

“Jesus! I mean, I do, but… that seems kind of fucked up.”

“I’m not dead. You made sure of that.” She peeled his hand off her breast and pushed it between her thighs, wanting him to feel how wet she was.

“Jesus, Jules.” His hand cupped her, fingers sliding along her wetness. She ground herself against him until she felt him slide two fingers inside.

Her head tipped back, a loud moan escaping her lips. She was already close; it wasn’t going to take much to satisfy her. She released his hand and pushed her leggings down, managing to get them off of one leg. He was pumping his fingers in and out of her now, his thumb rubbing her clit. She reached for his waistband and undid his pants, pulling him free of his boxers.

“Kiss me,” she said, stroking him. “A real kiss, after the kiss of life.”

He plunged his tongue into her mouth and withdrew his fingers, pushing her onto her back. He was already hard as he lowered his hips to hers. She spread her legs wide, and felt his tip rub back and forth across her clit before he guided himself to her opening. He thrust hard inside of her.

She gasped, her back arching and her eyes rolling. Alex cupped her cheek, holding her head in place until she gathered herself enough to look up at him. She wrapped her legs around him, drawing him deeper. He thrusted hard and fast, his breath coming in gasps, his eyes never leaving hers.

There was a look in them that she hadn’t seen in a long time, if ever.

I’ve got you, she thought, meeting him thrust for thrust. I love you, and now you love me.

Her back bowed again and she came, pulsating around him, a loud moan slipping from her lips.

Now you love me. 

Now you love me.

[aronarchy]

https://twitter.com/butchanarchy/status/1654190751218126871

Frankly I reject the premise that asking for food and water and being frustrated when you’re devalued/ignored is, in any way, “unhinged” behavior. And I know for a fact the folks saying so have had much more disruptive meltdowns when a cashier won’t accept their expired coupons.

You try being without resources, always in public space, without a safe place to retreat to to have a good cry, and see how long it is before some strangers eventually see you express some frustration on a hard day.

I feel so much rage at the rampant pathologizing of an unhoused Black man responding to the material conditions he was entrapped by. That so many people apparently think a disruption to the violent comfort of the status quo can and should be responded to with lynching.

You all actually can handle disruptions. The constant, frequently violent, disruptions of wealthy white cis men are handled with caution and grace on a daily basis. Barely even spoken of. Disruptions aren’t the problem and never have been.

The problem is that white people, neuroconforming people, housed people, etc. feel a level of entitlement to have all public space catered to their comfort. To a degree that marginalized people even making their existence known is seen as “taking” something that belongs to them.

A total mental breakdown should be responded to with concern and care, not violence and scorn, but that’s not even what happened with Jordan Neely. For a moment he didn’t gaslight himself into ignoring his needs to follow the social script, and they killed him for it.

They didn’t murder him because he was a “disruption.” They murdered him because he was an unhoused Black man who wouldn’t nicely deny the reality and immediacy of his own needs for their ease, something the dominant social contact does not allow.

It is HEINOUS that people are responding to this murder by calling for more mental health services, which shifts the blame for what happened onto Jordan Neely for simply existing in public, when the murderous element was the surrounding people’s disregard and ENTITLEMENT.

https://twitter.com/hazycomrade/status/1654235764341997568

This cannot be said enough. I’m so angry that his mental health seems to be so centered on this conversation when it’s completely irrelevant. It's victim blaming

https://twitter.com/AListlessReader/status/1654194334252531713

Hang around at any given McDonald’s long enough and you’ll see temporarily hungry people yell and threaten teenage workers over McNuggets. When I worked at Subway, a dude threatened to stab me over being out of cheese bread. Don’t remember anyone calling for the death penalty.

Actually, if anything, the workers (who are often food and housing insecure themselves) get blamed for these interactions. Kind of seems like who gets to be disruptive in public with no consequences depends on, I don’t know, privilege?

https://twitter.com/DixonBrandywine/status/1654236182811918336

Hell, I’ve broken down in tears when, due to events that are technically all my fault, I was stuck at a place and didn’t have money for food or drinks for hours. All before cell phones.

But I’m white. So someone bought me a soda and a sandwich.

And I was even one of those “scary” white kids. All punk/goth/raver.

But my humanity was never in question.

That I’ve been THERE makes me feel so fucked up when I see these stories.

And this is a bad one, but it’s far from an isolated incident.

https://twitter.com/Born_Analog/status/1654255797243879424

A lot of comfortable housed folks can’t seem to separate discomfort at being confronted with poverty from being in any actual risk of harm. So many folks just want poor and mentally ill folks to just not exist. If they dare invade their reality they want to cop them away.

[pea-the-mitten-crab]

I think someone just tried to rob me

Okay so the layout of my house is that there is a front door with an airlock porch and above that is my room with a standing window.

i opened the outer door (which has a lock), closed the inner door which has no lock, and opened my bedroom window.

I was cooking rice in the kitchen which is at the back of the house but i'm smart and didn't leave the openings unattended.

there's a circular staircase that goes directly from the door to my room.

so i was making a circuit of - kitchen - front door - bedroom - front door repeat.

there was literal seconds between me being at any one spot.

at the exact moment i was coming down the stairs at exactly 1:20 PM UK time i see someone opening the inner door so i say "hello?" and they turn and run.

then at 1:40 PM people online via the live broadcast thing i have hear someone trying to get in my bedroom window.

when my rice was finished at 1:50 PM i go to sit in my bedroom and i see outside the window the same person who tried to get in on their phone.

i watch as they just casually walk away like nothing happened.

good job. now i know exactly what you look like, moron.

i'm gonna wait until a friend arrives later today and tell them.

the police are unreliable here and will not respond to an attempted break in not even if i call the emergency line.

so i'm waiting on my friend to know how to proceed.

sitting here at my pc i just heard a ringtone go off (2:00 PM) outside the window of the room next to mine.

they keep coming back.

[edit for more context]

my house is in the middle of a busy road. there are cars constantly passing by.

the front is also visible from 3 separate roads that face it.

so they had to have some real balls to do this.

at any given tim there's at least a dozen witnesses. not the smartest criminal we're dealing with here.

it's a bright and sunny day with clouds overcast so anyone would have a very clear view of the suspect while they attempt to scale the building.

i wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors have already called the cops.

[update]

i don't believe it.

they just drove up and parked across from my house got out of the car and walked into a nearby house. (2:20 PM)

you gotta be kidding me.

now i know where they live AND the make and model of their car AND its license plate.

and it's a rather unusual car as well.

i honestly cannot believe the stupidity of this crook.

[another update]

at around 2:45 PM the police turn up.

i try to get their attention but they ignore me.

they drive down the road facing my house.

they stop at each of the 4 houses immediately in front of our house.

and this whole time I'm trying to get the police's attention.

the police officer ignores me despite being able to hear me.

then he speeds away practically flooring the gas pedal.

a few minutes later i call my friend over.

they say that they know the person and that they are not a bad person and tell me to forget about it.

i call the police.

a few minutes later the police turn up.

it technically doesn't count as a break in.

their hands are tied.

they take a statement and then go to find the person.

can't find the person so they come back here.

tell me it's good that i called but they can't act on it.

then they leave at around 4 o'clock (ish).

[kitsunefyuu]

Consider: Yoichi is the one he loved more than anything and nothing could ever truly take his place in his heart.

While Yoichi to him is like someone's beloved pet cat they've had since childhood, the Midoriya's to him are more like someone's pet goldfish they won at a carnival that they neglect occasionally.

Doc could give him anything, but I find it hard to believe he wouldn't have thought to experiment with his own children he conceived with all we know about his plans and the orphanages.

I don't think he would stay away from his family forever, he would loathe to give them fully up, but they might not be his number one priority and something he could ignore for now. They're more like pets he sort of likes. It's a muted affection compared to that overwhelming one he felt with his brother.

Trying to rationalize as to why his own son doesn't care for him when he had 9 years to build a bond with him even with call's. I say 9 due to face smashing thing. Don't really like the altering memory theory either, since we have no evidence and even with it it would seem like a cheap cop out for not developing Izuku's relationship with his dad. He must have not been there often or called if his son doesn't think of him as he almost dies.

His interest in Izuku would be ignited when he discovers he obtained OFA and then his obssession would begin there.

Kinda gay to have your brother be the only one you ever loved in you life. But everyone has their ships and can't say that's bad. I like to toy with that idea sometimes I just prefer him loving his family.

I mean if you like this concept don't let the fact I don't enjoy it bother you. Also, Izuku doesn't care even if dad 'loved' him because the bastard STILL just up and vanishes regardless. This is NOT at all related to whatever AFO feeling, since even if the dad is just a normal guy he NEVER shows up.

Since if is Dad for One can't reveal he is potato's face, and as someone who has been around kids. YES, they will hold resentment and it doesn't matter if it's because of 'work' you might as well have abandoned them. It doesn't matter how good you were prior to your disappearance if never come to any family bonding, meetings, etc for YEARS.

Inko might be mature enough to understand but I'm sure even she would be exhausted. Also contemplating divorce since Ms. Midoriya never shows up not even when son in the hospital.

It hurts to have a parent who cares more about work than your family especially since Izuku is already being bullied and mistreated.

There no need to RATIONALIZE that part since regardless if AFO loves them or not he STILL ends up not being there for them. EVEN IF IT TO NOT REVEAL HE A VILLAIN, it's cruel! Kid likely would refuse any phone call from the man who abandoned them.

Also, we don't have evidence for anything at the moment. So we can debate whatever but there no proof of whether he truly loved his family or didn't.

If want an example of dad fuck off and kid rather pretend they don't exist, but the dads aren't bastards technically just neglectful as heck.

Katekiyo Hitman reborn, the dad basically dead beat. Son will ignore his existence if could.

Full Metal Alchemist, Edward makes it clear Hohenheim can drop dead. As punched him upon first meeting.

Both are dad that just up and disappeared.

Also, I'm neutral about the memory alteration theory since it isn't really NEEDED to justify anything. It just some what ifs since, not recognizing his voice?

AFO voice is likely fucked up after the head bash and if Izuku thinks his dad doesn't give a shit avoids any phone calls anyway. I SOMETIMES DON'T RECOGNIZE PEOPLE's VOICE, it can just happen sometimes if been too long.

[sortofanobsession]

Tony the Kid (911 fic)

Author's note: not as long as my usual story but I had fun with it.

Ao3

911 Masterlist

Summary: Buck's work with the livestock animal rescue ends up with him taking care of a goat. A baby goat. A kid if you will. Eddie has opinions but unfortunately Eddie was the one that told him to participate in the poor little creature's rescue. Christopher is very much not on Eddie's side.

Mostly Eddie's side of things.

Pairing: Buck x Eddie (more than friends if you read between the lines). Christopher and his dads.

Eddie tries so hard not to laugh as he takes a video of his best friend. Buck is just standing there talking to another volunteer as a small goat repeatedly bleats and rams its tiny horns into the blond firefighter's leg. Christopher was going to love this video. They were all working at a community event. The animal rescue Buck often worked with after the ducklings incident was there as well. He and Buck had gone over to say hi, and the little petting zoo goat must have recognized Buck because the darn thing was not happy about being ignored. The kids around, at least the human ones, thought it was hilarious. “You look far too serious,” Eddie says as he puts his phone away, and they head back to rejoin the team. “Margo's truck broke down last night, which means the pick-up she was supposed to do tomorrow afternoon isn't going to happen unless someone else can drive.” “And they asked you?” Eddie guesses. “Yeah,” Buck nods. “And that would be fine...usually.” “But you have Christopher tomorrow,” Eddie says. “Already told him he didn't have to help your cousin move,” Buck says. “Take him with you,” Eddie shrugs. “Some of these turnovers can be risky,” Buck says. “I'm sure if you tell him to stay in the truck, he will,” Eddie argues. “He's old enough to see how the world works, Buck. Just put the idea to the rescue team. If not we can see what Hen and Karen have going on. Or your sister.” “Fine,” Buck takes out his phone and texts the rescue team. “That's assuming he even wants to go.” “When has he ever turned down a chance to visit the rescue? He loves those critters almost as much as you do.”

Eddie regretted his suggestions when he got home the following night. He had barely closed the door before he heard a noise that shouldn't be in his house. “Oh hey, you're back,” Buck says. “What did you do?” Eddie asks, his gaze narrowed at his friend. Eddie groans when he sees his son bottle-feeding a tiny goat that is in a tub on the floor. “Dad! Look! It's a baby goat,” Christopher eagerly says. “Why is it in my house?” Eddie asks. “It has a name, Dad,” Christopher tells him. “I’m sure it does,” Eddie’s annoyance was clear in his tone. “It’s Tony,” Christopher elaborates. “Technically, it’s Antony,” Buck states. “Of course it is,” Eddie sighs. “Couldn’t be a normal name, could it?” “They tried Anthony,” Buck says the name quietly, “But for some reason, he tends to bite when you call him that.” “That’s insane!” Eddie responds. He takes the tiny creature from his son. “Hey!” Christopher glares at his dad. “He bites,” Eddie argues. “Goats don’t even have top teeth in the front, Eddie, and it’s a baby.” “Seriously, Buck!” “For the record, you told us to go on the rescue.” “I didn't tell you to bring anything home, Buck,” Eddie hisses. “It's only for a few days, a week maybe.” “A week?!” “Don't worry I will take it home with me,” Buck says. “You live in an apartment,” Eddie states. “And he currently lives in a box,” Buck counters. “Buck!” “I'm serious, it’s not that much different than a normal pet,” Buck assures him. “You say that now,” Eddie shakes his head.

Eddie wasn’t surprised when Buck and Tony the kid shows up at his house a few days later. “What happened now?” Eddie asks as he lets them in, once the door is closed Buck sets Tony down. And Eddie laughs. “Oh look, it has a diaper now.” Eddie can’t believe how ridiculous his life has gotten. “He cries less if he can run around,” Buck says. “I need to ask you a favor.” “No,” Eddie says. “I didn’t even-” “I know you,” Eddie says, arms crossed over his chest. “You can say, ‘I told you so’ all you want. It’s a few days. I’ll even crash here. My neighbors complained and my landlord threatened to throw me out.” “He’s a trip hazard, Buck,” Eddie states. “Christopher-” “You didn’t tell me Buck and Tony were here!” Eddie sighs. “I promise, I will make it up to you, Eddie,” Buck says. Eddie looks between his best friend and his son who was now sitting in the living room with Tony the kid on his lap. Christopher looked so happy to have his little friend back. “A few days, that’s it, and you have to find away to keep him in one room. I’m not taking my son to the emergency room because he tripped on a goat.” “That’s fair, I can do that,” Buck grins. “And its 3 days, tops.”

It was not 3 days. Much to Eddie’s annoyance, Tony the kid was still around. He would be loath to admit it but having Buck around even more than usual wasn’t a bad thing. Sure, their relationships took a bit of a hit. But the goat now had a little pen in the living room when he wasn’t supervised. And after Buck had told Christopher that ‘the goat ate his homework’ was not an acceptable excuse and Buck would definitely not take Christopher with him when he took the goat for his little socialization play dates if his grades dropped. Eddie would admit the threat was shockingly effective. And the play dates were more like barn yard time with the other goats used to raise money with a local yoga studio that did goat yoga. Eddie didn’t understand the appeal but it meant the goat learned how to be a goat or ended up with his little friends at a farm, Eddie was happy to help out. He just hoped the thing would be out of his house soon.

Eddie walks into his home and hears a squeal of laughter from his living room. He smiles. “Need a hand?” Buck says as he meets Eddie in the hall and takes the pizza box from the home owner. “Jee-Yun sounds like she is having fun,” Eddie says as they head into the kitchen. “Oh yeah. I think Tony has met his match energy-wise,” Buck grins. “Well, I’m glad she’s having fun. I guess having a little baby friend, even of a different species, makes new places easier,” Eddie states as he grabs plates and hands them to Buck. He grabs a tiny plate and a breadstick from the box and with a well-rehearsed dad move cuts it into tiny toddler-sized pieces and plates them. He grabs a few other food that had been sent by Chimney and Maddie had sent for her to eat. Buck failed to suppress a grin at how at ease Eddie was. Buck had definitely thrown his best friend’s life for a loop last week by showing up with a goat. He hadn’t batted an eye when Buck told him he also had to watch Jee-Yun for the weekend while Maddie and Chim were out of town for the weekend for a party for one of Maddie’s coworkers. The Diaz house was busy for the weekend. Buck was going to have to do something really big to thank Eddie for all the help.

Buck sits back and wonders how his life has him to a moment like this. He smiles as Christopher helps feed Jee-Yun. It’s really more Christopher convincing the tot to finish her dinner since the others had finished eating at least 20 minutes ago. And it’s an adorable moment, made even more precious by the fact Eddie was absentmindedly petting the tiny goat sitting in his lap as he watched the kids. Buck thinks his heart might actually explode. He manages to snap a few pictures.

“I hate to admit it,” Eddie says. “I think I’m going to miss that little guy.” They watch Tony run around with his new family. A farmer who often partners with the rescue was able to give the growing goat a more appropriate home. “Me too,” Buck says. “Dad, look!” Christopher shouts. They both turn to see Christopher in a barn. Eddie sighed when he realized what his son had found. “Aren’t they cute?” Christopher says as one of the puppies jumps against the short barrier to play. They looked to be some kind of terrier mix. “Well, at least they don’t wear diapers,” Buck grins.