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fkinavocado · 11 months

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put a price on emotion

The Honourable Judge Styles has a dark secret. He prides himself on being notorious for his cutthroat sense of justice. But is he really any better than the ones he imprisons? Or is he a victim much like the ones he acquits?

Put a price on emotion - Masterlist, Author’s Notes & Warnings

Prologue (important part to the story so please make sure you read the prologue first!) / alternatively, read on wattpad

Chapter 1 (word count: 3.5k)

Harry knew this was one of the last cases he’d be presiding in Chicago. He never stayed in one place for more than 2-3 years at a time. Sure the paperwork was gruelling but he preferred it over having to be stuck in the same place for too long.

He also couldn’t stay, even if he wanted to. It was only that long until people started figuring out that this judge wasn’t exactly… ageing.

So every decade or so, Harry had to not only switch states/ countries (that he did every few years), but take up a whole new identity, from scratch. He’d build a stellar career from scratch. He’d done it, time and again. Luckily, he knew how to work the ropes to make it seamless. But it was tiresome, for sure. He’d always kept his given name, switching up his surname. The bar exam was child’s play at this point.

He wondered how long till he’d grow tired of this, too. Before being a judge, he’d been a crime investigator. That had lasted for well over 50 years. He was getting close to that number again, presiding over cases.

He didn’t know if he’d pick it up again after Chicago, or if it was time to switch it up again. He’d decided to take a bit of time off to see where “life” took him next.

He mulled over all of this back in his chambers, after he’d removed his cloak and lit up a cigarette. Nasty habit, to be sure, but since he couldn’t exactly develop lung cancer he figured, what’s the harm?

He’d taken a lover once that really didn’t like the smell- but she found it incredibly hot when he smoked, and with her out of the picture there really wasn’t any reason not to indulge from time to time. He of course couldn’t develop an addiction to nicotine, either.

What he did have an addiction for, to his dismay, was blood. He could go for a long time without it nowadays, but still he needed to get his fill soon, he could feel it.

Usually, if he was really busy, he’d resort to blood bags. Ever the walking cliche, he had a friend working in a hospital that provided him with the necessary amount should he need it.

But that was a last resort kind of situation. Because as much as Harry disliked most of what being a vampire entailed, he did enjoy the thrill, the chase, the very laborious ritual of preying on his next victim, seducing them and then having them succumb to his charm.

Because, yes, Harry seduced his victims. He didn’t like calling them that, but he supposed it was a morally grey area that he’d needed to make amends with early on in his “existence”. He’d battled with feelings of guilt for the longest time, but he came to realize that the only person he was hurting in doing so was himself.

His victims were never aware of what he was using them for. He’d feed from them without them ever knowing. Sometimes these victims were one night stands, sometimes they were lovers like the woman who lowkey liked his smoking.

But he never got serious with anyone, for obvious reasons. Just because his heart wasn’t beating anymore didn’t mean he didn’t have one still.

And if he was being honest with himself, nobody really did it for him anymore. He could see things much more clearly as a vampire, could see things for what they were, and most of the time, things just weren’t that great up close as they appeared to be from a distance. He grew tired of his lovers, bored even, and he knew it was unfair to them, but he had so much more life experience, so much more wisdom and emotional maturity that it made it hard finding someone that would intrigue him anymore. How could he ever expect someone with a few decades under their belt to ever match up to his centuries?

Thankfully, that didn’t really get in the way of his sex life. Because that, he could never tire of. Centuries of experience didn’t dampen his libido, if anything, it kept fueling it.

Harry enjoyed being good at what he did. Be it in the courtroom, or the bedroom. He also enjoyed being in charge. Notice a pattern, there?

He didn’t feed from all his sexual partners. He always saved it for particularly enticing lovers, nowadays. Because he always drank from them in the throes of climax, after he’d made them come over and over again, he’d finally give in and absolutely loved combining his delayed release with the sweet nectar his partners provided him, particularly after flooding their bloodline with endorphins. It was the biggest high.

He sighed, returning to his notes he’d taken that afternoon, thinking to himself he’d probably have to resort to his friend at the hospital this time around. He just hadn’t found anyone… biteable, as of late.

He wasn’t the kind of vampire to just feed off of anyone, he wasn’t a brute, after all. He had his standards.

But his ability to stay focused was starting to decline. He knew the telltale signs all too well by now. He needed to feed in order to operate at a functional level, ideally at an efficient level.

The way he had to make a conscious effort to focus on the notes and not let his mind wander off was quite telling. He kept thinking about the young woman, and how he was worried she’d sabotage her own case with her apparent dismissal of her attorney’s advice.

It was a simple case of self defence. If she played her cards right, she’d make it easy for him to issue the verdict in her favour.

But why did he have a feeling it wasn’t going to be that easy?

Even if he was planning on going under the radar soon, he still couldn’t issue a verdict that would be, at least apparently, unjust. And if she didn’t heed her attorney’s advice, it just might be the case.

He decided to call it a day and head home. He’d see what he could make of it all after the next hearing, when the young woman would testify and also some eye witnesses would take the stand.

He did stop by a bar he frequented on the way. Just on the off chance someone caught his eye. No luck, though.

He decided to give it a few more days before he called his friend at the hospital. He could muster through, he knew he could.

Or was it that he tricked himself into thinking he could? Was it maybe that he’d had his eye on someone all along, and therefore automatically excluded all the other possibilities?

And maybe it was deeper than that? Maybe he should’ve paid more heed to what others have always warned him of? Sometimes it wasn’t as simple as it seemed.

Sometimes bonds were formed.

“Defense counsel, you may present your case.”

The young woman’s attorney nodded to the judge. “I call Grace Gwyneth Cohen to the stand.”

Grace walked to the witness stand and the bailiff approached her as she was about to be seated. “Raise your right hand. Do you solemnly swear that the testimony you are about to give is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do.”

“State your name.”

“Grace Gwyneth Cohen.”

“Miss Cohen, let’s go way back,” her lawyer approached the bench and the young woman listened intently. Harry noted she seemed a bit more likely to cooperate with her attorney today, which pleased him. It would make his job infinitely easier. “First, let’s get an idea about why you were at this bar to begin with. A lovely young woman such as yourself, surely you don’t find yourself in such dingy places normally…”

“Objection! Irrelevant.”

Harry raised an eyebrow to the plaintiff. The defence hadn’t even started yet and already this guy was breathing down his neck. “Sustained.”

Grace’s attorney turned his attention back to his client, continuing “And even if you did frequent this sort of establishments, that doesn’t have to mean anything, of course. I’m just saying, it’s not your usual scene, is it?”

“I guess not.”

“You only went that night because you were meeting up with someone you’d met online, is that correct?”

“Yes. A client.”

Harry didn’t miss the attorney’s deadpan. This was surely not the way he had intended it to go. “A client. Let’s go over what you do for a living, then, shall we, Miss Cohen?”

“Sure.”

“You’re a sex worker. Is that correct?”

“No.”

Harry took note of the attorney’s clenched jaw once more.

“What would you call what you do, then?”

“I’m not really sure, but I’m no prostitute.”

“Sex workers aren’t prostitutes. There’s a wide foray of services that fall under that category but don’t include an actual sexual act. Let’s see if what you do falls under this category. I believe the proper term would be that you’re a “cam girl”, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Which basically means, you record yourself for a paying audience, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Do you undress for your audience?”

“Depends.”

“How so?”

“Well if you’re asking if I’m ever in the nude, then the answer is no. I don’t ever take off all my clothes. I tease them a little, but there’s never been any nudity.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. How she ever got people to actually watch without her ever fully undressing was intriguing. Not to mention earn a living out of this.

“Do you only get undressed with clients you meet up with?”

“No.”

“Wasn’t this why you were meeting up with this client at the bar that night?”

“That’s what he thought was going to happen. In reality, I was planning to string him along for a bit, hopefully get him to give me some money in the hopes that I would give him more than he saw of me online.”

“Is this your only source of income?”

“At the moment, yes, because I’m a student. My curriculum doesn’t leave me with enough time even for a part time job with a fixed schedule. So I have to… freelance. I tried a number of remote jobs before I opened my onlyfans. I get to keep my anonymity, I never show my facial characteristics online, I get to make up my own schedule depending on what little free time I have and so I thought… it wouldn’t hurt to at least give it a try. I didn’t expect for anyone to chip in considering I don’t even fully undress, but surprisingly, I do have people stream my live shows. I haven’t really had time this month to stream, because I’ve had exams to study for. So money was tight. This guy was in my inbox begging for me to meet up with him. Again… I had no intention of actually going all the way with him, at most I thought maybe I’d earn a free meal out of it. I didn’t want to offer a private show for him instead either, didn’t want to risk leaving any digital footprints… I deliberately chose that pub, it’s a crowded place on a Saturday night. Figured it would be… safe.”

“But it wasn’t safe, was it, Miss Cohen? Going back to the night in question. You had set up a meeting with one of your online clients. Had any promises been made beforehand as to what would happen during this meeting?”

“I’d vaguely alluded to the possibility of more happening, but no promises had been made, no.”

“Would you mind giving us a rundown of what happened, exactly, at the bar?”

“Of course. I met up with him at the Silver Church, on the evening of the 27th of July, at 8. He said his name was Dave, and that he’d be waiting for me at the bar. When I greeted him, I immediately had an unsettling feeling about him, but I still tried to play the “date” to my advantage somehow and try and see if I could milk some money off of him. I flirted with him but never agreed to go back to his place like he kept insisting. Eventually, I asked him for some money and told him I’d be buying a lingerie set to wear on my next live stream, just for him, and consider going out with him again. He didn’t seem to like that very much, but he did give me the money, eventually. He kept insisting he’d take me back to his place even though I’d made it clear I wouldn’t be doing that, yet. I wasn’t ever planning on going through with it, of course, but I was leading him on. I don’t know if he figured out I was playing him, but he then insisted he’d walk me home. Which of course, was out of the question. I realized he wasn’t going to take no for an answer and I excused myself to use the lady’s room, but in reality, I was looking for a backdoor exit. I figured I’d already gotten my money, and that if I wanted to get rid of him now would be the time to try and make a run for it.

“I made a beeline for an exit I’d spotted at the other side of the bar when I thought he wasn’t looking, and I thought I’d been pretty stealthy and quick, but somehow he caught up to me. Before I knew it, he was right there behind me in that back alley, no one else in sight. I was expecting him to ask where I was going, something of that nature, but instead he outright attacked me!”

“What did you do then?”

“I, well– I don’t remember.”

“Would you say the assault made you lose conscience?”

“Yes, he pounced on me, and bit me –”

“And would you say you hit your head when he jumped you?”

“Yes, but–”

“So you don’t remember defending yourself?”

“Well, no. No, I don’t.”

“That's all. I have no further questions.”

Harry sensed the attorney’s irritation, and how the defendant clearly wanted to say more. He hoped, again, that for her sake she’d not walk right into the trap the plaintiff was no doubt setting up for her. “Plaintiff's counsel, do you have any cross-examination of this witness?”

“Yes, your honour. Miss Cohen, I couldn’t help but notice how you wanted to say something when your attorney so rudely interrupted.”

“Objection!”

“Sustained. Your point, plaintiff?”

“Just trying to get the full picture, here, your honour. Going back to the night of the murder, Miss Cohen. You mentioned Mr. Montgomery attacked you. Bit you, I believe is the term you used. Why would a grown man bite you? Wouldn’t there be other alternative ways, more effective ways of stopping you from leaving the club?”

“That’s what I thought as well. I was shocked by his action, I was expecting him to force himself on me but he went straight for my neck and bit… hard.”

“Why do you suppose he’d do such a thing”

“Objection!”

Harry sighed, knowing he had no choice but to let her get to her point. He already knew what she was going to say, by the look in her eyes.

The same terror he’d seen in them that fateful night.

“Overruled.”

Grace had gone pale, her gaze had zoned out. Eventually she spoke out, her voice shaking, not at all similar to the tone she’d accustomed the court thus far. “It’s because… because he was… a vampire.”

The court gasped in unison in shock, and Harry had to exercise his gavel for the first time that evening. “Order! Order in the court!”

The judge had to insist on reinstating decorum and then the plaintiff resumed. “A… vampire. Just for the record, Miss Cohen. Your statement is that Mr. Montgomery was a vampire?”

She nodded reluctantly. “I know how this sounds. I know! But he didn’t just bite me… no, he… his eyes, his clear blue eyes turned pitch black. In the blink of an eye. When he lunged at me, his fangs were… on full display. It was only a fraction of a second before he lunged at me, but there was no mistaking what I saw. Trust me, his canines were perfectly normal over at the bar. So were his eyes. And the pain… the piercing pain he inflicted when his fangs tore the skin on my neck… I can still feel it sometimes. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”

Harry watched as she instinctively brought her nimble fingers to the side of her neck, tracing the skin there.

The plaintiff cleared his throat, barely masking his amusement. “What happened then, Miss Cohen? Did he drink your blood?”

“Objection! Leading question!”

“I… like I said, I don’t remember. He tackled me to the ground. I must’ve either hurt my head or just passed out from the… assault.”

“So… you don’t remember fighting back.”

“No.”

“How do you explain the state in which the two of you were found then?”

“I… don’t know…”

“For the record, a member of the club’s staff was taking out the trash in the back alley when he stumbled upon what appeared to be two people lying on the ground. One of them severely injured. And that person wasn’t you. No, Miss Cohen, when the ambulance arrived they performed a thorough physical examination both on site and later at the hospital, and concluded you weren’t injured. In fact they couldn’t find so much as a scar on you.”

The court gasped in unison again and the judge gave them a warning look without having to use the gavel.

“Mr. Montgomery, on the other hand, wasn’t as lucky. He was declared dead, killed by a puncture to his heart inflicted by a switchblade.”

“Order!”

Grace watched as if in slow motion how the people in the court switched from looking at her with curiosity to giving her accusatory glances, and she couldn’t help but let tears well up in her eyes. She faintly heard the judge’s gavel but not even that could steady her beating heart. She had pleaded not guilty at the counsel of her attorney, but the truth was… she didn’t know what the truth was.

She must’ve been in shock, her memory of the incident completely blocked as a defence mechanism or something. The last thing she remembered was hitting the ground, the vampire hovering over her. She definitely did not remember stabbing him, hell, she’d never even seen that switchblade before. She’d have recognized it if it was hers. She did carry a pepper spray but she of course had no chance to retrieve it, the guy had been on her within the blink of an eye, his morphed features shocking her into a frozen stupor.

Initially she thought she might have done it in self defence, and the shock was just blocking her memory of it. But then the lab concluded that her fingerprints weren’t on the switchblade. In fact, it had been wiped clean.

She couldn’t fathom ever going through the trouble of doing all that, and not flee the scene of the crime at least if she was trying to conceal her actions.

Nothing added up. The rest of the interrogation was a blur. She was taken back into custody until the next hearing. Back in her cell, but somewhere nicer than where she was headed- she was always reminded by whomever escorted her there.

She was left alone with her thoughts yet again, back to staring at those barren walls and trying to make sense of all that was happening to her, trying to make peace with the fact that this was probably what the rest of her life would be like.

Harry was staring at a much different wall, a wall decorated in all his accolades and honorary achievements back in his chambers. But he had the same thing on his mind.

This was unjust, and the feeling made his skin crawl. He wasn’t used to such a feeling. The only time he’d felt that before was when he’d been robbed of his own life, just like Grace was getting robbed of hers.

He kicked his feet off his desk and grabbed his briefcase, deciding to head home. His hand hovered over the light switch, pausing before he finally left.

He’d find a way, but it just might be that it would have her live in limbo for the rest of her life, not unlike himself.

A/N: hints and smoke and mirrors, aka a slow burn cuz y'all know me 😅

beta’d by the lovely @adorebeaa ❤️

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lilacmingi · 10 months

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A CHRISTMAS WISH

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Cheer elf!Yeosang x fem reader

Word count: 4,360

Note: This one is another favorite of mine from Christmas 2021 on Wattpad. I loveeeed the plot for this one! I love the concept of elf Yeosang 😭 Reminder: This imagine is from Wattpad so there will be no continuations or extra parts

You sighed as you stared at the steaming cup of hot cocoa sitting in front of you. Even a festive drink like that couldn't seem to cheer you up.

"So, what's the deal?" Your friend, Jisung, asked.

"I don't know." You sighed. "I'm just not feeling very festive this year. Things haven't exactly been going well and I can't seem to find it in me to celebrate the holidays."

"Maybe it's seasonal depression."

"I don't know, maybe. I guess I feel like I've lost my Christmas spirit, that spark, you know? Things aren't as wonderful as they used to be and life has really kicked me in the butt."

"Maybe it's just that you're getting older. Things are different when you grow up. Christmas doesn't feel much like Christmas."

"It sucks." You sighed. "I'm usually so into the holidays, but not this year."

"You should write a letter to Santa." He suggested.

You let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, right."

"I'm serious."

"Thanks, Hannie, but I'm good. I'm not gonna write a letter to a fictional being."

"Well, it was worth a shot." He shrugged.

Later that night, you were sitting in your living room, a Christmas special on TV. A sigh left you as you stared blankly at the screen, your chest feeling hollow and empty.

"It's just not the same." You muttered, clicking off the television and shuffling out of the room, your feet dragging along the floor.

You stepped into your room, your gaze landing on your table that sat in front of the bedroom window.

Next thing you know, you found yourself sitting at the desk in your room, a pen and a piece of paper sitting in front of you. You weren't sure why you were about to do what you were about to do. Perhaps it was a last-ditch effort. Maybe you had hit rock bottom with no more options.

You picked up the pen and began to write.

Dear Santa,

I haven't been feeling too festive this year. I'm not really sure why. So many things have been happening lately and I just feel like the holidays aren't even worth celebrating. I've always loved Christmas, but this year has been so... bland. I don't know what to do about it. My friend suggested I write a letter to you, which I think is absurd, but here I am.

You let out a dry chuckle, feeling sorry for yourself.

This is so stupid. I don't even know why I'm doing this. I guess I'm out of options. The only thing I want for Christmas is to get my Christmas spirit back.

You folded the letter and placed it into an envelope, momentarily considering throwing it in the trash, but you didn't. For whatever reason, something in you wanted to get that letter sent out—so you did.

The next day, you set out on your brief journey to the mall. You didn't need or want anything, you only went there to get your letter sent.

You clutched the envelope in your hand as you neared the middle of the mall where the Santa meet and greet was set up. Just outside the area was a red mailbox with huge, cursive letters printed on it that read: North Pole. You didn't put an address on the envelope, you just wrote North Pole, not that it mattered, Santa wouldn't be receiving the letter anyway. Actually, you didn't know who would get it. Part of you didn't care.

You pulled open the flap glancing at the envelope in your hand. You shook your head, letting out a mocking laugh as you dropped the letter into the box.

A large pile of letters was spread across Mr. Claus' desk. Despite his busy schedule, he always found time to go through the letters that made their way to the North Pole. He grabbed the next envelope, ripping it open and pulling the letter out to look at it. Upon reading the written message, he felt a somberness in his heart, placing his hand over his chest.

"Oh no." He frowned.

He placed the letter on his desk, grabbing the intercom mic that sat nearby.

"Attention everyone. We have a code Blue Christmas, level 7. I repeat, code Blue Christmas, level 7. Kang Yeosang, please report to my office immediately."

Said elf popped his head up upon hearing his name over the intercom. He jumped from his seat in the cafeteria and hurried as quickly as he could across the snowy village, kicking up the icy substance as he did so.

He pushed open the doors of the workshop, scurrying up the stairs that led to the big man's office. The doors swung open and Yeosang stumbled in, panting breathlessly.

"You called?" He huffed out, his hands resting on his knees.

"Yes. I've just received a letter from a girl who's lost her Christmas spirit. I need you to go to her immediately."

"Yes, sir." Yeosang stood upright, saluting. "I'll start getting ready."

Yeosang is the North Pole's number one cheer elf. It's easy for people to lose their Christmas spirit around the holidays and Yeosang is around to help bring it back. He's gone all around the world on many different missions, helping people remember how magical and merry Christmas can be.

Santa met with Yeosang to see him off and wish him luck on his journey.

"Before you go, I want to give you some of my magic to use... just in case." He told the elf.

"Thank you." He took the small, maroon velvet bag, slipping it into his jacket pocket.

Santa reached over, straightening the beanie on Yeosang's head.

"Make sure you stay covered." He told the elf.

"Of course." Yeosang nodded. "I should be off now."

"Right. Good luck.”

Equipped with some of Santa's magic and a special pocket watch to contact the big man, Yeosang set off to your town.

It had been a few days since you sent your letter to the "North Pole." You weren't sure why you even sent the stupid thing in the first place. The immense regret you were feeling was palpable and almost overwhelming.

"It's already sent. You can't do anything about it." You told yourself.

Why were you worried about the letter being sent? It would probably get tossed anyway.

You needed something to distract yourself and take your mind off things. Maybe a walk would help you clear your head.

You slipped on some warm clothes along with a thick coat and headed outside. As soon as you stepped onto the sidewalk, the frigid air hit you, causing your face to twist in discomfort. Giving the collar of your jacket a quick tug, you began to walk down the sidewalk.

You walked and walked, not paying much attention to where you were going. Getting out of the house didn't help much at all, considering all you could think about was how much you wish you hadn't sent that letter. There was no point in it. It was stupid. You were just feeling desperate and needed a way to vent and let your feeli—

You let out a grunt as you bumped into someone.

"Sorry." You apologized, glancing over to see who you'd clumsily walked into.

You were immediately taken aback by the man's insanely good looks. You'd never seen anyone like him in your life. He looked like he was sculpted by gods. His eyes were large and seemed to have a sparkle to them, his nose was dainty and perfect, as were his lips, and he had a natural glow to his face. His hair, despite being covered by a hat, was beautiful as well. It was a light blonde color and appeared to be long, as the hair peeking from underneath his beanie curled just beneath his ear.

"I'm the one who should apologize." He stated, his voice deep and melodic, with a gentleness to it. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"I wasn't either." You spoke up.

"It seems we're both distracted." He chuckled.

"Maybe we won't bump into anyone else." You told him with a smile before bidding him goodbye.

Yeosang mentally cursed himself for letting you slip away so easily. The short interaction the two of you had didn't exactly give him a good opportunity to try and stick around. He had to think of a way to get back to you, and quick.

He took a step forward, hearing something scuff along the concrete. Glancing at his feet, he spotted a small wallet. His eyes widened as a smile broke out on his features.

An opportunity! He thought excitedly.

You kept your gaze ahead, determined to pay attention where you were going. As you headed down the street, thoughts of that guy lingered in your mind. It's not every day you bump into someone so attractive. He was stunning, and his laugh was the prettiest sound you'd heard.

I won't forget you pretty street guy. You thought to yourself.

You came to a stop, considering going back home. All the walking you had done did you absolutely no good. Remembering that there was a coffee shop just down the street, you decided against going home and had one thing in mind, and that was a warm beverage. With a new destination, you moved forward, headed straight for the shop.

Upon your arrival, you ordered a medium peppermint mocha. (or your favorite drink) Despite your current lack of Christmas spirit, you still wanted to try and indulge in the holiday's delicious treats.

The cashier gave you the total and you began rummaging around in your jacket pocket, your heart dropping when you didn't feel your wallet.

"I'm so sorry. I... I think I dropped my wallet somewhere." You told the cashier, trying not to panic too much and cause a scene.

"I'll take care of it." A familiar voice spoke from behind you.

A hand reached past you, handing a wad of money to the cashier. You turned your head, seeing that your savior was none other than the guy you ran into just a few minutes prior.

"You."

"Hello again." He smiled.

"Thank you for for that."

"Thank yourself. I used your money."

"What?"

"I'm kidding. I came to return this to you." He said, pulling your wallet from his coat pocket.

"You're a lifesaver." You sighed. "Thank you."

"It's not a problem. I was just doing what's right."

"Can I get you something? I kinda owe you one."

"Well, there is one thing you can do."

"And what's that?" You inquired.

"Just sit and talk."

"That's all?"

"Mhm." He nodded. "At least until we finish our drinks. I'm not gonna keep you here for hours and hours."

"Okay. I can do that. Are you sure you don't want me to buy you a drink, though?"

"I got it covered." He smiled.

You were handed your beverage and stepped aside to let your new acquaintance order his. Once he had his hot chocolate with extra whipped cream on top, the two of you went to find a place to sit down.

"So, I never got your name." You spoke up.

"Oh, right. I'm Yeosang."

"I'm Y/n."

"It's nice to meet you." He gave you a friendly (and very adorable) closed-mouth smile.

"I know you're the one who suggested we sit and hang out, but I hope I'm not keeping you from anything." You told him.

"Not at all. I was only out for a walk anyway."

"I was too. I needed to distract myself."

"Ah." He nodded. "If you don't mind me asking, what's troubling you?"

"Well, truthfully, I'm just not feeling very Christmassy this year and I don't know why."

"That's understandable." He nodded. "As you get older, sometimes the holidays don't feel like the holidays. It's not uncommon."

"My friend said something similar. You know," You paused, letting out a chuckle. "He actually suggested I write a letter to Santa."

"Did you?" Yeosang asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

"Well, yes, but I was desperate and feeling sad. I honestly regret it. It was dumb."

"Why?"

"Because Santa doesn't exist. Who knows where that letter ended up."

Yeosang had to stop himself from gasping in horror at your blatant response. Of course Santa exists. How could you not know that?

"That letter may have ended up exactly where it needed to be." He responded.

"You sound so sure."

"I'm just looking on the positive side." He responded.

Yeosang said you only had to stay and talk with him until your drinks were gone, however the two of you sat and chatted long after your cups had been emptied.

"We've been here for a while, haven't we?" You spoke, looking at your phone.

"We have. I didn't even realize."

Before the two of you parted ways, Yeosang asked for you number, which you more than happily gave him.

When you left the coffee shop, you couldn't help but feel happy that you chose to leave the house. Had you stayed home, you might not have met Yeosang.

A few days after your first meeting with Yeosang, he texted you asking if you wanted to hang out. You said yes and gave him your address so he could meet up.

It wasn't long until you heard a knock at your front door. You got up to answer it, smiling when you saw Yeosang.

"Come on in." You stepped aside, allowing him to enter your home.

He shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on your coat hanger. He looked adorable dressed in a large, dark green sweater and a red beanie.

"You look like an elf." You giggled.

Yeosang's eyes widened at your comment, momentarily worried that you were onto him.

"Your outfit is very festive." You continued. "It reminds me of something an elf would wear. It looks good."

"Ah." He laughed nervously, tugging his hat down, reassuring himself that it was positioned correctly. "Thank you."

You then led him further into your apartment.

Yeosang took a quick look at your home, noticing how barren it was.

"You haven't decorated for Christmas?" He asked.

"No. I haven't really felt like it."

"I could help you if you'd like. Christmas decorations are supposed to bring cheer, anyway—and you seem like you need it."

You let out a short chuckle. "Yeah. I do."

"So what do you say? Want me to help you decorate?"

"Yeah." You nodded. "I think I would like that."

You showed him to your storage closet where you kept seasonal holiday decorations. He assisted you in pulling out your artificial Christmas tree and setting it up.

"You don't get a real tree?" He asked.

"No. I've always used an artificial one. Even when I was younger, we always had an artificial one."

"You prefer artificial trees?" He asked, straightening out the branches.

"I do. In my opinion, it's much better than a real one. Yes, you have to straighten the branches out, but it's not nearly as messy as a real tree. It's also not as much of a fire hazard, you don't have to water it, and unlike real trees, you pay for a fake one once and that's that."

"Ah." Nodded Yeosang. "That makes sense."

Once the branches were all straightened out and in place, you hauled a box of decorations into the living room.

"Do you have a certain place where you hang these?" Yeosang asked as you opened up the box.

"Nah. Just grab one and hang it wherever."

You both reached into the box, pulling out a random ornament.

"This one is cute." Yeosang giggled, holding up an ornament depicting a melted snowman.

"Thanks. I think it's unique."

"It is. It makes me laugh too. I like it." He commented, hanging it over a branch. "Hey, do you think we could crank up some Christmas music? It would really help get us in the Christmas spirit."

"Sure."

You grabbed your phone and connected it to your Bluetooth speaker before finding a Christmas playlist to play aloud.

Yeosang immediately began to dance a little when the first song was played. His hips wiggled as he placed ornaments on the tree, seeming to be in his own little world.

Watching Yeosang made you wish you could get more into the holiday spirit. He really looked like he was in his element as he placed more ornaments on the tree, a soft smile on his lips. His face seemed to glow as he continued to work, dancing and humming to the Christmas music being played.

You couldn't help but smile yourself. Just being around him made it feel more like the holidays.

You had just watched the weather forecast and the weatherman had called for snow, which you were looking forward to. You thought of Yeosang since he loved all things Christmas, so you sent him a text.

You

Are you ready to see the snow? The weatherman said it would snow later this evening.

Yeosang

You know I'm ready! Let's meet up and watch it together.

You

Sounds like fun!

Meeting Yeosang was one of the greatest things that's happened to you. After spending so much time with him, you felt that you were slowly starting to get your Christmas spirit back.

You waited for the snow to fall, but nothing happened. You thought maybe it was just slow with its arrival, so you waited... and waited. It wasn't until you heard a knock at your door that you stepped away from the window. Standing outside was Yeosang dressed in his usual beanie (a gray one this time) and large coat. You gave him a frown.

"It didn't snow."

"It's okay. It's probably just a little slow. Go put on a coat and come on out." He beckoned.

You grabbed your jacket and slipped it on along with a head warmer to keep your ears and forehead toasty before joining Yeosang outside in the chilly winter air.

"Come on." He linked his arm with yours, leading you down the street.

A gasp left you as you saw a tiny white snowflake drift down past your line of sight. Moments passed as the flakes began descending faster from above, accumulating on the sidewalk.

"Yeosang, look!" You beamed. "It's snowing."

The elf smiled at your overjoyed reaction, his heart thumping rapidly as a warm feeling spread in his chest.

Thank you, Santa. He thought.

You stared up at the sky, watching the large, fluffy flakes fall from the sky.

"It's so beautiful." You commented.

You were far too busy admiring the snow to even notice that it was only snowing on your street and nowhere else.

It was Christmas Eve and you and Yeosang were spending it at your house. He showed up wearing a Christmas sweater and brought a matching one with him, handing it to you as soon as he stepped inside.

"You got me a Christmas sweater?"

He nodded with a smile. "You should go put it on."

"Okay."

You scurried off to your bedroom to change out of your sweatshirt and into the Christmas sweater. You glanced at your reflection with a bright smile, your fingertips running over the knit pattern. It wasn't an in your face kind of Christmas sweater, but a more toned down one with warm hues and cream-colored reindeer on it. Just the thought of Yeosang getting the two of you matching sweaters made your cheeks warm.

You returned to the living room, showing off the festive sweater. Yeosang's heart skipped a beat when he saw you. The sweater was just a little big on you and partially covered your hands. It was perfect and you looked absolutely adorable in it.

Over the past few weeks, Yeosang found himself falling for you. Never in his life had he fallen for a human, let alone one that he was sent to help out.

"I love it. Thank you." You told him. "You want some hot chocolate?"

"Yes, please. With-"

"Extra whipped cream?" You finished.

Yeosang grinned, nodding his head.

You made your way to the kitchen and started preparing hot cocoa for you and Yeosang. You'd been spending a lot of time with him and because of that, you started feeling like you got your Christmas spirit back. It was a wonderful feeling, one you didn't think you'd ever feel.

Maybe writing that letter wasn't pointless after all.

You returned to the living room with two large mugs of hot chocolate, Yeosang's topped with extra whipped cream per his request. He took a sip, giving you a thumbs up.

"Good?"

He nodded, licking whipped cream from his top lip.

You drank some of yours before placing the mug onto the coffee table. There was something that had been weighing on your mind lately that you wanted to get off your chest.

"Yeosang. There's something I want to tell you."

"Yes?" Yeosang set his mug down, giving you his full attention.

"I just wanted to say thank you. Ever since you came along, you've brightened up the holiday season and helped me get my Christmas spirit back. I know it's cheesy, but if I hadn't met you, I don't think I would be where I am now."

A gleaming and happy smile spread across Yeosang's features.

"I'm so happy to hear that."

"Will you spend Christmas with me?" You asked.

"Of course."

"There's something else I want to tell you." You took in a deep breath, preparing yourself.

"What is it?" Yeosang asked, his heart pounding.

"Along with getting my Christmas spirit back, I've also developed feelings for you. You're not like any guy I've ever met and we've had so much fun together."

"I feel the same way." He responded with a grin.

"You do?"

"Yeah." He smiled, nodding his head.

"That's great." You beamed.

"But, there's something I have to tell you first."

"Okay." You sat up straighter.

You couldn't help but think of the worst.

"I'm not even sure if I'm allowed to say this, but here it goes." He took in a deep breath before continuing. "I'm an elf. A cheer elf to be more specific. I came from the North Pole to help you get your Christmas spirit back."

You blinked a few times before an unamused chuckle escaped your mouth.

"I see what's going on here. You're teasing me, right?"

"No. I'm telling the truth."

You gave him a skeptical look.

"I'll prove it." He grabbed the top of his hat, pulling it off his head and revealing a pair of pointy ears.

"Those are fake." You responded.

"Pull on them." He told you, leaning closer.

"What? No. I'm not gonna do that."

"If they're fake, it won't hurt me, so you shouldn't have a problem with it."

You pressed your lips together, reaching over and grabbing hold, quickly tugging on his ear.

"Ouch!" He exclaimed, bringing his hand up to rub over the spot.

Your eyes widened. If they were truly fake, the pointed ends would have come right off.

"Oh my gosh." You gasped. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

You were too busy being worried about hurting his ear that you didn't even realize they were real. You froze as reality hit you like a truck. He really is an elf.

Oh my gosh. I told him Santa wasn't real... to his face. You thought.

"Believe me now?" He asked, raising a brow.

"Yes."

Your eyes drifted to his (adorable) pointy ears that stuck out from his long, fluffy, blonde locks. It was an unfamiliar sight, and one you'd have to get used to.

"Hopefully this doesn't change the way you feel about me." Yeosang spoke up.

"It doesn't. Actually, it makes me like you even more."

He let out a chuckle, glancing down shyly.

"So, you said you're a cheer elf. What is that?"

"I go around the world every Christmas to brighten up someone's holiday and help them find their Christmas cheer. You were my mission this year."

"Ah." You glanced down at your lap. "You weren't lying when you said my letter ended up right where it needed to be."

"No I wasn't." He chuckled.

"Are there more cheer elves or just you?"

"There's more. Not a lot, but enough to help multiple people out every Christmas. I'm number one, though." He grinned with a wink.

You smiled only for it to falter when a question popped into your head.

"How will we see each other?"

"One thing they don't tell you about cheer elves is that we get vacation days."

Your face brightened up.

"I can come visit pretty often. You might even be able to come to the North Pole sometime."

"Are you serious?" You asked.

"I am."

"You won't tell Santa I said he didn't exist, will you? Because I most certainly don't feel that way anymore."

"Hmm. I don't know. I was pretty offended when you said that."

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth worriedly.

"If you give me a kiss I won't say anything." He smirked.

You had to hold back a smile as you answered him.

"I think I can arrange that."

You scooted closer to him as he did the same, his hand gently holding your cheek. Without wasting another moment, you closed the space between you and Yeosang, placing your lips on his. Your hand moved to cup the back of his neck, pulling him closer as your fingers played with the long strands of hair. Yeosang tilted his head, deepening the kiss and sending a wave of heat through your body in the process.

The kiss was sweet, but intense and left you wanting more. You glanced at Yeosang with half-lidded eyes.

"I don't want you to leave." You murmured, still in a daze from the kiss.

"I won't. I promised to spend Christmas with you, remember?"

You smiled. "And after that?"

"I'll see if the boss man will let me stay a few extra days."

"Good."

In the beginning, you just wanted your Christmas spirit back, but in the end, you got so much more than that.

Hongjoong ❄︎ Seonghwa ❄︎ Yunho ❄︎ San ❄︎ Mingi ❄︎ Wooyoung ❄︎ Jongho

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

Do not steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

#ateez imagines #yeosang #kang yeosang #yeosang x reader #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #seonghwa #park seonghwa #mingi #song mingi #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #choi san #yunho #jeong yunho #jongho #choi jongho #yeosang x you #yeosang x y/n

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featheredclover · 16 days

Text

September Rain

Chapter Seven

Also on Wattpad

Read from the beginning

Chapter Six> <Chapter Eight

“So listen up! I want all of you in your buses. The class monitor will take the count. No cellphones allowed, no funny business under my watch! Is that clear?”

“Yes ma’am “, came the bored drawl of the classes of X and XI.

Mona wiggled up to Khushi, grinning ear to ear.

“Dhruv is here”, she sang.

Khushi narrowed her eyes, “I know. Everyone is here”

“Silly! I am saying picnics are the best opportunities to start dating! Teachers are all cooped up in the shade, enjoying their break. We can do whatever we want!”

“Dating?! What are you talking about? “

“Well you need to move on from Arnav and who better to move onto?”Mona winked.

Khushi stared at her friend for a long moment.

“Lavanya is not his girlfriend”, she whispered.

She found herself lost as Mona looked at her blankly, her lips pursed in displeasure.

“What?”

“K, I love you that’s why I am telling you this. It happened to my cousin. Do you remember Sharvi di? She was strung over a guy for ages. And this new girl entered the scene, but he used to keep assuring her that nothing’s going on. And after a year, she found them making out at a house party!”

She felt anger flood through her. And if she was honest with herself, a little desperation too.

“Arnav isn’t like that guy, Mona. He won’t lie”

“I won’t let him break your heart. Do whatever you want K, but if you don’t want to be careful, I will”

“Aw! My bodyguard “, she battled her eyelashes.

“Who’s the bodyguard?” NK swung his arm around her shoulder.

“Mona is, “ Khushi smiled.

“What are you defending Khushi against? A mosquito?”

“I’ll smash your teeth in Khurana. It will suit your pretty face” Mona smirked.

“Violence already Mona?” Arnav sauntered up to them.

“You’ll see Raizada “ Mona glanced at Khushi.

————-

“I can’t believe Preeto is fraternising with the enemy!” Mona whispered angrily into her ear, as she eyed her sitting beside Lavanya.

“She is playing polo with her,” Khushi mumbled.

Ignoring her friend’s outrage, she pushed her bag up on the luggage rack. She grabbed Mona’s sack and placed it next to hers.

Settling down on the window seat, Khushi looked on as her classmates filed into the bus, chattering away.

She looked away as she caught a glance of Arnav. She frowned at herself.

Hadn’t they solved this? Why then did this uneasy feeling that she was going to lose him persist?

Her heart is driving her mad.

—————

The spectators at the traffic signal must certainly be amused at the noise blaring from the school bus, Khushi thought.

NK wouldn’t let her sit, especially after he had convinced the bus driver to let him use the speakers. She swayed, as everyone sang off key as loudly as they could. She laughed as she saw everyone dancing with as much gusto as they could muster in the cramped space.

NK held her hand and attempted an awkward spin, leading her to stumble all over him. She giggled as her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He set her alight on her feet with a wink.

Khushi brushed her hair off her face, stilling as she felt the brunt of a stare pierce her. She didn’t have to wonder for long, for in the next moment her eyes met Arnav’s intense gaze. She smiled hesitantly, unsure of the sudden stillness he seemed to be caught in.

He didn’t smile back.

A bag of chips thrust themselves into her view. She looked up to see Aman.

“Eat up Gupta! The park is still an hour away!”

—————

The shiny board of ‘Topsy World’ shone magnificently across the skyline. The weather seemed to be kind to them today, as the sun stayed dim behind the clouds.

“There!” Preeto yelled, “My brother said this ride should be done first”

“I love this place!” Lavanya smiled.

“It is nice,” Khushi sighed.

“Red thunder? Are you serious ,Preeto?”

Preetika smirked, “Why? Scared ,Mona ?”

And that was it. Mona thumped her way to the line, while Preeto chased her. And the gang just followed along.

The line was long. Khushi fixed her cap, as she leaned against the railing.

“Red ranger, K? You sure it’s the right choice?” Dhruv smirked as she looked up, startled .

“For me, yes. For faint hearted ones, no. So you might want to think it through, Mr Iyer” Khushi smiled.

He laughed, “Let’s see who’ll call for their “mummy” first up there shall we?”

Khushi blushed, “Hey! I was 12 okay?!”

Dhruv shrugged, “You’ll have to prove it to me, I guess”

“Khushi come on!” NK hollered.

She rushed along the railings, followed by the group of eleventh graders.

“Come on” Arnav grabbed her hand.

“Hey, Arnav “ Dhruv called out, “can I borrow your friend just for this ride? You see there is a challenge which madam has undertaken…” Dhruv smiled, not taking his eyes off Khushi.

She felt Arnav’s grip on her hand tighten.

“Ya sure! I wanted Arnav to sit with me anyway “ Lavanya interrupted with a hand on his shoulder, “Khushi you can sit with your friend “

“Oh come on guys! The operator is waiting” Aman yelled from his seat.

Khushi looked at Arnav, trying to read his face. She felt his grip loosen, and a hollow opened in her chest.

“Come on K!” Dhruv grabbed her other hand and pulled her to a seat.

The seat belt clicked in. The operator counted down.

“Phew! No matter how many times I get into these things, my heart never gets used to it” Dhruv chuckled.

Khushi smiled faintly. Her heart was also thumping incessantly. But it had nothing to do with the ride.

Tagging: @hand-picked-star @phuljari @msbhagirathi @thenainitaldisaster @thedupattaknowswhatsup @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @barshifan @andli @shiyaravi @chutkiandchotte @laad-governess @minpdnim @bigfatreader @arshiradio @simplycurlz @scorpio-smiles @bengudill @exosexosekai @0218fm

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Next chapter>>

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#ipkknd ff #ipkknd #arshi #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #fanfic #ipk 13th anniversary fiesta #arnav x khushi #ipkknd fanfic #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #ipkknd fanfiction

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ghosty-writer · 6 months

Text

𝔗𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

navigation

Status Update: on pause

You can also find the story on Wattpad

Chapter two ~ chapter three ~ chapter four

The day that Lucifer met Aurora he met her a few times as a white snake that he had been disguising himself as as she talks to him. But one day he was with Lilith she asked him if he wanted to meet around. He happily said yes as he was a bit afraid because she only saw him in his snake not in his regular self. But he was happy that he would get to meet her as his Wings spread out as he was happy. Lilith only laughs at his happiness as she starts to adore him.

But Lilith herself noticed that Aroura was always alone even if she was with Adam. She was the kindest person she ever met but lately, she just seems down. When she mentioned Lucifer she saw the smile but her eyes were different she knew that she was happy for her but her eyes gave a bit of sadness even if she tried her best to hide it. So this will be a good opportunity for her a Lucifer to meet and be friends.

Lately, she has noticed her feelings towards Lucifer and it keeps growing and she knows that Lucifer feels the same about her. She knows that Adam was made for her and she was made for him but it's not working as Adam is cocky and thinks that he is the man of everything as he tries to control everything the best he could.

"You know Lucifer she's not that bad plus she doesn't act like he'd brother" Lilith got closer to him as she had her hand on his chest.

Lucifer noticed this and smirked as he felt pride in himself as she got closer to him.

"And I think you be a good help for her as you and her have the same interest in some things," she said as she looked him in the eye and smiled.

" well I have to go the sun is going down and have to make sure that Aurora and Adam haven't killed each other," she said as she kissed him near his lips as she moved always.

"You sure you can't stay a little longer," Lucifer says as she grabs her hand pulled her closer to him.

"Oh Lucifer I wish I could but I know if I stay I won't go back," she said as she looked at him.

"But I'm serious about them killing each other They may be twins, but they sure argue a lot and be surprised they both have a little anger problem," she said as he sighed he knew that she was right as he noticed Aurora's little flare up when something doesn't go right and the bonus was her cursing which he never thought that he ever hear her say but he has to remember that she is Adam sister.

"Finee" he let go of her as he saw her walk away from him now alone. He had always hated being alone ever since he was first made with his brother, even if they were born on different days or years. He was a twin so he wasn't alone.

This also causes him to feel pity for Aurora, despite her having a twin, making him take responsibility for her loneliness and be her friend.

A few days passed Lucifer had been busy in Haven but this day he was anxious he was finally gonna formally meet Aurora in person. He had been so worried about her not liking him off the bat like how he met Adam before without Lilith with him and that didn't end up well when she came now to this day they both dislike each other.

now Lucifer was waiting for Lilith to come with Aurora as he sat on an apple tree. he has so much in his mind and more ideas lately he had been thinking that humans should have free will to do anything but before he could think any further Lilith called his name.

"Lucifer" she called his name and with her was Aurora he looked around wondering where this Lucifer person that Lilith wanted her to meet was. at this moment the name did sound familiar she thought about. It took a while but now she remembered that Adam mentioned the name in one of his vents where she was half listening.

Before she was going to say something a person with wings was right in front of her he had blonde hair and gold eyes and his skin was pale but his height towered her as she was around the hight of 5'5 and he was around 6'0 feet and Lilith was the hight of 5'10 taller than her.

"MY my my what do we get here Lilith," he said while Lilith giggled as he grabbed Aurora's hands and kissed them but she tilted her head on why he kissed her hands. Lilith looked at Aurora she saw her confused face and she could see why she never really had any interactions with men other than Adam

"I'm Lucifer it's a pleasure to meet you," he said as he still had her hands.

"ahh I'm A..Aurora" she stuttered as she introduced she pulled her hands back to herself even though she felt confused but she felt flustered but she didn't understand why she felt that way.

"I had so much about you from Lilith," he said with excitement

"I hope good thing," she said as she crossed her arms and looked at Lilith with a knowing smile But all she saw was Lilith giggle and this made her happy.

"you know I never seen one of your people up front but I had seen them around" she explained as she looked at his wings fascinated about them. him around and Litith sat under a tree that near them.

"of yeah I remember you telling me you that time. you kind of got sad because you saw them and flew always before you say anything to them" Lilith said as Lucifer knew why they left. normally he wasn't even supposed to be here talking to them as they were the first human and was supposed to look after them.

"Lilith you didn't have to bring that up" Aurora whined as Lilith and Lucifer laughed.

"Well Normally angels we not really supposed to be talking to you but mostly watch over you but where's the fun in that" Lucifer explained

"Ohh that's why some of them fly away when I notice them," she said with acknowledgment. But for some reason, she knew that he was going to be her best friend.

And with that Lucifer was glad that he met Aurora through the conversation they both laughed and made jokes which made Lilith laugh so much that her stomach hurt.

Lilith was glad that Aurora was happier she felt like she made the right move letting her meet Lucifer.

As the time went faster the three of them didn't know that the sun was going down until Aurora noticed.

"Lilith I think we should go before Adam starts looking for me," she said as she and Lilith got up while Lucifer shook his head in agreement"

"Well I'm glad that we met Lucifer," she said while hugging Lilith as she smiled.

"It's not a problem I'm glad I met someone new who has wonderful ideas but I should take my leave too," Lucifer said with excitement as he watched her and Lilith leave as he flew.

Now that he made Aroura laugh and smile and became a friend to her he was now committed

on the bus idea of being the one to make her smile.

But can it last?

Note{ I know i haven't posted in while but I'm be post as much as i can. Also made Lucifer taller.}

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x headcanon #fanfiction #lucifer magne #oc

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erinkeifer · 10 months

Text

ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕕𝕖 - ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕍𝕀

[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]

Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 Not My Code Masterlist

Summary: After your first solo mission, you return to the Temple, longing only to throw yourself into the arms of your Master. Unfortunately, you are informed that Anakin is not feeling well...

Warnings: angst | hurt/comfort | descriptions of pain | fluffy ending Word Count: 2k

You arrived in Coruscant just after dusk. The mission took up your entire day, and aside from the urgent messages sent by the Council, you didn't even have time to connect with anyone from the Temple. Although you attempted to communicate with Anakin through your comlink several times, he wasn't responding. It had been a few weeks since your knighting ceremony, and during that time, you had spent a lot of time together, practically finishing and starting each day at either his quarters or yours. You had no illusions that you would like to conclude this busy day in his arms. "General Kenobi!" you exclaimed, descending from the platform where Obi-Wan waited, unfortunately, unusually without his apprentice by his side. "Here she is!" Kenobi replied, bowing to you and the crew, whose members saluted as they descended from the platform. "How do you feel after your debut?" Obi-Wan asked with a hint of pride, walking with you towards the Temple's interior. "As you've probably heard, everything ended successfully. We returned intact, didn't lose anyone... Let's hope this streak continues." you replied, walking slowly alongside Kenobi. "I deeply believe it will." he said, smiling at you. "If you'll excuse me." he added, attempting to catch one of the troopers on the way with a mission report. You nodded and stood by, waiting for Obi-Wan to handle his business, but thoughts swirled in your head - Anakin's absence worried you, and considering the lack of contact, you knew something was definitely not right. You paced in circles, fidgeting with your nails until Kenobi finished his conversation, and when the two finally parted ways, you walked back with him. "What's with the melancholy, young lady?" he said, eliciting a gentle, albeit very brief, smile from you. "I don't know... Just... Uh... Have you seen Anakin?" you asked with clear doubt in your voice. "Good question... I saw him in the morning heading to the Chancellor. Later, we had a council meeting, but he left early, said he wasn't feeling well." Kenobi replied, increasing your doubt. Through years of war, battles, you had never seen him sick – even days after the divorce with Padmé, he never skipped a council meeting, as he used to say, 'focusing on work helps forget about problems.' "I guess he'll sleep it off, and he'll be better tomorrow. Then, you can discuss today's events. Surely, you need some rest too." Kenobi added after a moment of silence, to which you nodded. "Sure..." you replied as you reached the crossroads where you should go in opposite directions. "It's probably nothing serious." you added, forcing a smile, which Kenobi genuinely reciprocated. "May the Force be with you." Kenobi said before heading towards his quarters. "May the Force be with you." you replied, and as you turned in your direction, your smile was replaced by genuine emotions. You knew you should go straight to your room, but you couldn't. You couldn't bear not knowing what was happening with Anakin, not knowing why he was feeling unwell. Taking a deep breath, you headed to the elevators and descended one floor, navigating through a dark corridor towards Skywalker's quarters. When you stood in front of the door, you decided to knock, but after waiting for over a minute with no response, you realized no one was opening. You pulled the handle, but the door was locked. Feeling drained to wait any longer, you ultimately used the Force to open the door. You tried to do it as quietly as possible. When the door unlocked, you noticed R2-D2 inside. The vigilant droid immediately directed its diodes toward you but, sensing no threat, didn't react chaotically.

You decided to take a few quiet steps into the bedroom, and suddenly, a sight unfolded before your eyes that shattered your heart into pieces. Anakin sat shirtless on the floor, leaning against the metal frame of his spacious bed, his face buried in his hands. "Anakin." you whispered, not knowing how to handle the situation. Skywalker didn't respond, and you approached him, kneeling beside him. In doing so, you accidentally knocked over a few empty, disposable coffee cups scattered around the room. "Hey." Anakin finally spoke after a while, but so softly that you could barely hear him. "What's going on? Please, tell me." you asked, gently stroking his shoulder. His exposed skin was feverish, his bangs stuck to his forehead, and strands of hair seemed matted – you could barely see his eyes, especially since he kept avoiding your gaze, looking down. "I'll be fine... I just feel... Sick." he replied after a pause, forcing a smile... A smile that you immediately read as filled with pain. "Anakin, please, be serious... I've never seen you in worse shape, and I... I'm terribly worried." you said. He didn't reply. He removed your hand from his shoulder and gently placed it on his own, then proceeded to kiss it fervently. He didn't part his lips from your delicate skin for a few minutes, and on one hand, you didn't want to press, but on the other, you wanted to know what was troubling him as soon as possible. You sat still until you felt something that broke your heart. You felt a tear from Anakin's eye drip onto your hand. Sensing it run down your wrist, you decided to gently lift his chin with your other hand, tilting his head towards you so he finally looked at you. "Please... Look at me." you whispered with sadness in your voice, and finally, Anakin's eyes met yours, instantly causing them to glisten. His eyes and eyelids were reddened, and on his cheeks, you saw both dried and fresh streaks from tears, which you delicately wiped away with the back of your fingers as soon as you noticed them. He looked like he hadn't slept for a very long time – he was visibly worn down, and his forced smile only emphasized that. "Please, tell me..." you whispered, cradling his feverish face in your cool hands. "I haven't slept well..." he whispered as you gently stroked his face. "I think you meant to say 'I haven't slept at all.'" you replied, casting a fleeting glance at the scattered coffee cups with grounds. Anakin always drank strong coffee, but never this strong. "Please... I'm really scared." you added after a moment, once again locking eyes with him. "Me too." he responded, and you furrowed your brows, unsure of what he meant. Your hands returned to his, and you slowly rose from the floor. "First, please get up. Sit here, comfortably." you indicated the bed and offered him your hand to help him up. Anakin took your hand and pulled himself up slightly to sit next to you on his soft mattress. You embraced him gently and again locked eyes with him, signaling that he should continue. "What are you afraid of? What do you mean?" you asked softly, watching as his gaze scanned your slightly brighter face. "Something haunts me... I feel it again..." he replied after a moment of hesitation, and you tried to piece together the fragments. "Again? You mean..." "Nightmares," he answered before you could finish, and you felt powerless. You didn't want to ask for details - a part of you wanted to know, but another part protested.

"They're worse, more realistic than ever..." he added after a moment, not breaking eye contact with you. "Anakin... How can I..." "Hold me." he suddenly replied, and without hesitation, you embraced him, burying your face in his neck. His grip was desperate and strong - stronger than ever. He held you as if the entire world depended on it, as if letting you go meant losing you forever. You felt his unstable heartbeat, and your eyes welled up at the thought of the non-physical pain Anakin was involuntarily enduring. You remembered that nightmares had haunted him years ago, but you had never been this close to him - never had the opportunity to help him somehow endure them. "I'm here... I'm with you." you whispered into his ear, gently running your fingers through his hair. Minute by minute, you felt his body calming down, and the tension slowly dissipating. There was still a sense of brokenness, but both of you knew that it couldn't be bypassed in a matter of minutes. "Let's lie down, okay?" you asked after a while, lifting your face from his neck enough to look into his eyes. Anakin nodded, and both of you simultaneously fell onto his soft pillows, lying facing each other, never letting go. "I would give a lot for you not to have to go through this... I would do anything." you whispered slowly, and now it was Anakin who cupped your face with his hand. "I wouldn't want you to give up anything." he replied after a while, and you didn't even prepare a response. You moved closer to his face, and when your lips met, you left him with a sweet, short kiss. "Please." he whispered, pleadingly, not wanting the kiss to be so short, and quickly returned his lips to yours, kissing them tenderly and not parting for the next few longer moments. When you both ran out of breath, you separated your lips, touching foreheads and listening to only your accelerated breaths. The atmosphere seemed dense, but there was already less pain and more of something you had been suppressing for a long time. "Anakin..." you whispered, and at that moment, your heart raced the fastest. Skywalker looked at you, feeling the emotions tearing through you. "I love you." And the world stood still – both his and yours. You unloaded a huge emotional burden, but you didn't know how he would take it. His eyes sparkled, and you would bet that hearing your words momentarily held his breath. Despite his own shock, he read each of your emotions and scanned your face as if getting to know you anew. He didn't even have to look for answers – he didn't need to make sure that your words came straight from the heart. Both of you felt that the burden of pure truth had been thrown off, just waiting to be voiced. "I love you too." he finally uttered, the voice you had been waiting for, causing tears to gather in your eyelids. Anakin's eyes were also glistening, but this time you saw a flash of relief and happiness in them, until finally, a genuine, beautiful smile appeared on his face, which you instantly reciprocated. After gazing at each other's love-struck faces, your lips met again, this time in a more passionate, tension-relieving kiss, the sincerest and strongest you had ever shared. Both of you were breathless, breaking it. "Promise me something." you said between deep breaths, and his eyes immediately looked at you, expecting the continuation of your words. "Fall asleep with me now... I'll be right there with you, just please, get some rest." you spoke with clear seriousness, and after a moment of hesitation, Anakin nodded, and his smile returned to its place. "I'll try." he whispered before gently sinking onto you, so that he was in your embrace.

"Relax, think of something that brings you joy." you whispered to him, and with your free hand, you reached for a blanket lying next to both of you, covering Anakin enough so that he wouldn't feel the cold on his exposed skin at any moment of the night. You didn't care that you were fully dressed – you didn't want to give an inch away from him, not now, when he finally gained a bit of peace. You looked at his closed eyes and gradually calming breath, gently circling your fingers on his back. When you kissed him on the forehead, the corner of his mouth lifted in a sweet smile, and your head landed on the pillow – not to fall asleep, but to - before doing so - make sure that Anakin had drifted into a peaceful sleep. Soon, all tension disappeared – you felt only calm breaths on your skin and the touch of his chest rising and falling rhythmically. Only peace surrounded him. Only peace and your tender gaze, which soon faded away to drift together with him.

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unseededtoast · 5 months

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Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Thirteen

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

Through watery eyes I see Joel's jaw set tight and I quickly come to terms that I might die here too.

The truck grumbles down the road filled with abandoned cars and debris, and I'm honestly surprised it's lasted us this long. The engine's roar is enough to fill the truck's silence, so that I'm not suffocating from it. Joel and I haven't exchanged a single word after last night, and that's fine with me.

My eyes are glued to the green exit sign that I know we'll be taking and my stomach churns with nerves. Tate said the Fireflies are in shambles, which is nice to hear, but I hope that Trevor is still there and he's willing to answer. I know that I'll have to feign amicability with the Fireflies, but if it means I'm closer to unraveling this mystery then I'm about to be the nicest visitor they've ever met.

Joel stops the truck a few miles away from where the Fireflies should be and sighs heavily. Maybe while I'm gone he'll just drive away and leave me be. Sure, I'd be alone and more vulnerable but I also wouldn't have to put up with his secrecy that hangs over my mind like a dark cloud. Gathering my bag in my hands, I think through the questions I want to ask and what information I really need out of these people. The truck's door squeaks as I hop out, and Joel stays put.

Without checking to see what he's doing, I start heading towards the building the Fireflies claimed. They're easy to find, they practically guide me there with their graffiti spraypainted on the side of every building. Admittedly, the streets are suspiciously empty but that might be due to their declining numbers.

Behind me I hear the slam of the truck's door and heavy footsteps come up behind me. My pace doesn't falter as he catches up to me.

"The hell is your problem?" He asks and I stop in my tracks. My body turns fully towards him, eyes wide. He sure has some nerve.

"What's my problem? What's yours Joel? You're the one who's keeping some sort of secret and you're the one who didn't want to let that kid go last night." The words that fly out of my mouth are probably a bit too loud, but I can't seem to care in the moment. He can't seriously think that our issues are my fault. His cheeks flare with blood, his eyebrows crease harder than they usually are.

"He could've come back to kill us." Joel's voice is low and serious, and I fight back the strong urge to roll my eyes.

"You know he wouldn't have. He was running towards a city that's fallen with nothing but the clothes on his back. He was harmless, it was plain as day." My hands begin moving as I talk, my temper getting the best of me. He huffs in response and goes to keep walking, stepping a few feet in front of me towards the base. Angrily, I turn on my heel and stride towards him.

"Thought you hated the Fireflies, why are you even coming?" My voice is bitter and I think I would have rather had him stay in the truck or better yet, drive off without me.

His broad shoulders tense up as he keeps on the path to the Fireflies, opting to ignore my question. It feels like the blood in my veins is boiling but I push my anger away as I see the main doors of the base. This argument will have to be settled later.

I pick up my pace to reach the base before Joel, not wanting him to be their first impression. His irritability and rough demeanor is not how I want this to start off. The man outside the base points a gun at us and I raise my hands instinctually to show them I'm not a threat.

"Who are you and what business do you have here?" The guard barks out and I speak before Joel can get a word in.

"We need to speak to Trevor." I call back to him and he keeps his gun aimed at us as we continue approaching the doors.

"What business do you have with Trevor?" He questions again, and I plaster a fake smile on my face but I hope it comes off as genuine.

"We have information regarding an operation he's conducting." I keep my answer vague enough so that it's believable, but I leave out the part where I'm going to interrogate Trevor for his possible involvement in the slaughter of children. After a few minutes of silent debate, the guard puts his gun down and beckons us to follow him into the base.

The base is dilapidated and it's obvious that things around here have been rough. There's an overflow of trash piled up in some corners, discarded cans and bags lay all over the place. A ripped Firefly flag hangs from a doorway, acting as a makeshift curtain. The guard leads us through the first floor and up the stairs to the second level. The old wooden stairs creak with every step we take, and I'm half convinced I'm going to fall through them at any given second.

As we make our way through the second level, there are some Fireflies that watch us with curiosity, others look at us with skepticism. Everyone is quiet as we pass through, all of their conversations coming to an abrupt halt. Joel's presence can be felt behind me, he's practically right on my heels as we walk through the place.

Finally, the guard leads us to a closed door at the end of the hall. My heart pumps heavily as I wait for it to open. Footsteps sound on the other side of the door and it swings open, revealing an older man with a receding hairline. He doesn't look very friendly, his face is morphed into a scowl and he gripes at the guard, asking him why he's knocking at the door and not down keeping watch. The guard tells him about our exchange and the man's beady eyes land on me and then on Joel.

"Come in." He opens the door wider and I enter the room with a small thanks.

The room is chaotic. There are maps hung over the walls, all marked up with different circles, lines, and shapes. On the old desk there are dozens of papers scattered and torn. Shredded curtains cover the windows, or try to at least, but there's a steady ray of sunshine that beams into the room, making it hot and stuffy. As Joel steps in, the man closes the door behind him.

"Who are you?" The man wastes no time in getting to the bottom of things.

I smile once more and channel the hospitality in me. I extend my hand and introduce myself. He's kind enough to take my hand and shake it, and he ignores Joel who stands leaning against the far wall with his hands crossed across his chest. I'm thankful he's staying out of this.

"Nice to meet you-?" I prompt the man for his name, hoping and praying he's who I'm hoping.

"I'm Trevor." He walks behind the messy desk and leans forward on it, his weight being pressed down into his palms as he keeps his eyes trained on me.

"Trevor, it's a pleasure. Now I'm not going to waste your time here, I'm hoping there's a way we can help each other out." I push a stray piece of hair out of my face and maintain eye contact with him, noticing how his eyes travel all over my face and down my sweaty chest.

"How so?" His eyes snap back up to mine, narrowing every so slightly.

"I've been travelling for a while now and came across this group of raiders or something. They weren't like normal raiders though. No, these people all had the letter T carved into their skin." I fabricate my story in a way where it seems I'm oblivious to every shred of evidence in my bag. I want to see what he gives up about these people first before I start playing my cards.

"Okay?" He asks, not understanding what I'm getting at.

"Well, I found some Firefly tags in their camp. Seems like they were almost targeting you all." I lie to him again and notice his jaw twitch, but he recovers smoothly with a nod of his head.

"Interesting. Yeah, we've known there are some raiders about and some of our people have left. But, they haven't tried to attack us yet. Thanks for letting us know." He's not going to give anything up it seems. Either he doesn't know about the operation, or he's covering it up. In a desperate attempt for information, I ask one more question.

"Yeah of course. But there's nothing you know about them? Where they might be located? I'd really like to avoid crossing them again." I rub a hand up and down my arm like I'm scared of seeing them again. Trevor scratches the back of his neck,

"Well, no not really. Sorry." His answer is short and he glances down at the papers in front of him as he speaks. I notice a bead of sweat running down the side of his forehead and he makes no move to wipe it. Nodding my head, I quickly start forming a plan of my next line of questioning, pacing back and forth a few steps as my brain scrambles to come up with anything. I think I'm going to have to be bolder if I want the information I came here for.

"That's okay. Tell me Trevor, why would they have a note signed by the Fireflies in their possession?" My pacing ceases and Trevor's shoulders tense up. His gaze meets mine and I see a darkness in his eye. Now I might be onto something. He tries to recover his composure,

"What kind of note?" He asks me, slowly walking around to the other side of his desk. I take two small steps back and shrug,

"I don't know, most of it was burnt up. But I could read a little bit of it. The word immune was on it and QZs were mentioned. Didn't really get to make out a whole lot." I feign ignorance, trying to see what gets him talking. Trevor sits on the edge of the paper-covered desk, a hand on his chin.

As he thinks, my eyes glance up to look at one of the maps taped to the wall. I recognize it immediately as an exact copy of the one that's in my bag. My jaw sets tightly and I try to keep my look of indifference on my face. Trevor definitely knows, there's no way he doesn't. He shakes his head and his voice breaks the momentary silence,

"I really don't know about that one." He's shutting me down again, and I know I'm down to my last resort. The façade of kindness falls from my face and I know that sitting across from me is a man who knows all about the killing of innocent children. My fingers itch to grab the knife from my holster, but I refrain for now. I clear my throat and step towards Trevor this time, knowing I need to get under his skin. A photograph on his desk shows me how I might get him bothered.

"Well, maybe Marlene knows. I worked with her a little a few years ago but I heard she's out here now, she's pretty high up there in rank, she might have a clue." I lie again, knowing full well that she's dead. A photo of her lays amongst the documents on the desk, it looks like she's smiling in it. Trevor's eyes have turned almost black as he looks back up to me.

"Marlene is dead." My lips curve down into a frown,

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Do you know how she died?" I try to get into his head this way, make him mad about my questions and his dead associate. Trevor's knuckles turn white as he balls a hand into a fist and I see Joel shift out of the corner of my eye.

"She was murdered. She was out in Salt Lake City at the hospital and a maniac shot her." I fight to keep from looking to Joel. He's told me that he was with her when she died, but maybe he was withholding some other information about what happened.

"What was she doing out there at a hospital?" My voice almost cracks as I ask. I know my questions are getting off track, but there may be some sort of value knowing this information as well. Trevor shakes his head with a bitter laugh. We're locked in a staring match and I know he's onto me. He knows that I'm aware of more than I'm letting on and he's done playing the game. Which is fine, because I've grown tired of the game myself.

Within the blink of an eye, I grab the gun that's holstered on my thigh and point it towards him, flicking the safety off. Joel moves again out of the corner of my eye, but I keep my focus on the man in front of me. The only thing that's on my mind is getting as much as I can out of him. I repeat my question again, my tone becoming low and the man in front of me sighs.

"She was out there trying to make a cure. We were back in Boston together about a year ago and she found some girl that was bitten but never turned. Unfortunately for Marlene, she was injured and couldn't take the girl herself, so she hired someone else to get the girl from Boston to the Fireflies out west. I left as she was setting up the deal. My men who were there tell me that the man she hired gunned down everyone in that hospital to get that girl back from the surgeon. Then he shot Marlene and took off with the girl." My blood runs cold in my veins but I can't afford to lose my composure now, there's still stuff I need from him. My mind is working a hundred miles a minute, there's too much information to process at once. Too many things are coming to light and I can't focus on unpacking it all right now.

"So why do the Fireflies want the children in the QZs dead? And what do these other people have to do with it?" My finger twitches on the trigger, throwing all sense of secrecy out of the window. A twisted grin spreads across Trevor's face,

"Someone's gotta pay for Marlene, someone's gotta pay for jeopardizing our shot at a cure. I'm going to make sure they pay the same price she did. It's only fair, after all." I shake my head, not understanding what he means.

"Those children have nothing to do with what happened to Marlene." I say, my voice becoming louder and rougher. I step forward and press the gun to the man's head. He glares up at me and grits his teeth as he speaks,

"One of them does, and they'll kill all the children they can just to find her."

Before I can get another word in, there's a loud bang that resounds through the room and the man's blood is splattered all over my front. As if time were moving in slow motion, I look down to see the man collapsed on the floor, his blood draining out rapidly, pieces of his brains scattered on my shirt. I'm frozen to my spot and feel someone's arms wrap around me and push me back behind the desk.

Seconds later, the door swings open and gunfire sounds everywhere, echoing off the walls. I shake my head and come back to reality and realize that the Fireflies left in this building are all coming down on us. Something in my mind switches and it's like I'm back on patrol in the QZs, my movements are on autopilot.

I peek over the desk and quickly aim at a woman rushing in. My trigger finger twitches and I send a bullet through her neck. She gurgles and falls to the floor, but another Firefly is quick to take her place. They shoot at me, but I make my shots count. The way I'm positioned behind the desk gives me the upper hand, and I'm able to shoot the Fireflies as they enter the room before they can see me.

I lose count of how many bodies I shoot down without a second thought. The building is now eerily silent, there are no more footsteps coming up the stairs or down the hall. Carefully, I stand and peek outside the door with my gun drawn, confirming that there are no more.

Once I'm satisfied with the lack of Fireflies, I turn back and see the carnage. There are at least twenty people all piled on the floor, lifeless. My eyes drag from their bodies to the map on the wall, now splattered with blood.

With a reeling mind I leave the room and head back down the stairs. Trevor's words replay in my head over and over and over again and my palms get clammy, my stomach starts turning as more pieces of the puzzle begin hastily putting themselves together.

My hands push open the base's front doors and I breathe in the fresh air and stumble away from the building. There's a sturdy tree just off to the left and my feet drag over the pavement to reach it, chest heaving as I begin hyperventilating. I haven't killed a man in over three years and now I've just slaughtered a dozen. And if that's not bad enough, I think Joel might be a madman.

Quick and ragged breaths enter my body and I'm unable to get control of myself. What does this all mean? My thoughts are cut short as the base door opens again and Joel strolls out, rifle in hand. He meets my wide eyes and tilts his head to the side with an unreadable expression on his face.

Scrambling to move, I push myself off the tree and urge my feet to start running. I don't know where I'm going, but I need to get away from Joel. I sprint the fastest I can, but it's no match for his speed. His boots thud on the pavement as he comes after me, and he wraps a strong hand around my wrist to halt my running.

It feels like my shoulder is pulled out of the socket as I'm jolted to a stop. I turn around in his grasp and try to wrestle myself away, but I can't. He's too strong for me. Through watery eyes I see Joel's jaw set tight and I quickly come to terms that I might die here too.

Part Fourteen

#joel miller #joel miller hbo #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #tlou #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller series #joel tlou #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us series #tlou fic #tlou fanfic #tlou series

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canirove · 2 years

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Kylian Mbappé Imagine | one

Author's note: So far I had only shared my Mbappé imagines on Wattpad because that’s where I’ve been getting the requests, but since people are liking them so much, I thought about starting to share them here too 😊 Yesterday I posted some kind of masterlist with links to Wattpad, so some of you may have already read this, but I wanted to post it here for people who don’t have an account there, don’t want to open it, or just want to have these imagines archived somewhere. Hope you like it, and thank you for reading! 💜

Little summary: you are dating Kylian and PSG is playing against Monaco, your ex's team. He didn't treat you well, and now you fear something bad may happen during the game.

Masterlist

"How was training?"

"Great. I'm ready to kick some Monaco asses tomorrow" Kylian says, sitting on the sofa next to me.

"Monaco..."

"Wait, no, sorry. It was joke. I'm sorry" he says, hugging me. "I had forgotten about him."

"Lucky you" I chuckle.

"It's gonna be ok, you'll see. That jerk won't dare hurting me."

"You don't know that, Kylian. I still haven't forgotten about the texts he sent me when he found out that we were dating. They were fucking scary."

"You should have blocked him the moment you broke up. But hey, they were just words. The words of a coward. Only cowards will treat the person they love the way he treated you" he says, caressing my cheek.

"But what if..."

"I'll be fine. We'll be fine. You are staying home, right?"

"Yeah... I'm too nervous already. If I go to the stadium, it will only get worse."

"And Alex is coming to stay with you, right?"

"Yes."

"Good, I don't want you to be alone. But I'll behave and nothing will happen, I promise. Beyond me scoring a hat trick and dedicate you each goal" he says with a cheeky smile.

"Thank you" I reply, kissing his cheek.

It's gonna be ok. It'll be an easy game, PSG will win, Kylian will score, and everything will be ok. It will be.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Minute 70. PSG wins 2-0, both goals by Kylian. So far the game has been a quiet one and no one has tried to break anyone's legs. But that's just because my ex isn't on the pitch. Yet.

"Oh God" I say when I see that Monaco is doing a substitution after one of their defenders got injured. "He's coming in."

"Maybe they'll put in a striker, they still have time to score a couple of goals" Alex says.

"They won't risk it. He is coming in."

And the moment those words leave my mouth, I see him on tv.

"Kylian said he'll behave, right? He'll be fine, don't worry" Alex says, giving my hand an encouraging squeeze.

"That's what he said, yes" I sigh, my heart already beating too fast.

Minute 88. They haven't crossed paths, my ex busy defending Neymar. But then...

"Penalty!" Alex screams. "That's a freaking penalty! Why do they have to go check the var?"

"Maybe because Neymar is the one who went down?" I chuckle.

"Rude" Alex says.

"It is a penalty for PSG. Kylian Mbappé wants his hat trick" the commentator says.

While he gets ready for it, he notices there is something missing. The most important thing, the ball. And who has it? Yes, you guessed it. My ex.

When he gives Kylian the ball, he says something to his ear, making him laugh at first. But then, he gets really serious, his eyes focused on the goalkeeper.

"That look... Yikes" Alex says. "I would not like to be the goalkeeper right now, he is going to destroy him."

"Urgh, I can't watch" I say, covering my face with my hands.

"Mbappé is ready. He takes a few steps back, a deep breath... And goal! It is a hat trick for Kylian Mbappé against Monaco!" the commentator says.

"He is scored! Look!" Alex says, grabbing me by the arm and shaking me until I'm looking at the screen again. "Awww, he did your thing again. Cute."

"Cute would be the game ending now" I say, trying not to smile but failing. He said he would score three goals and dedicate them to me, and he did.

As he walks back to the centre of the pitch, he crosses paths with my ex again. They start talking, but the chat quikcly turns into an argument, getting closer and closer to each other until they are forehead against forehead like footballers always do. Why? Who knows.

"Oh my God" Alex says as players from PSG and Monaco get around them and try to break them apart. When they finally are able to, Neymar is talking to Kylian, telling him something like "think, use your head", while he says my name and points at my ex.

"I can't watch this anymore" I say, getting up from the sofa and moving to the kitchen.

"It is over" Alex says, joining me a few minutes later.

"Finally" I sigh.

"Do you want me to stay until he is back?"

"Nah, don't worry. I'll probably eat something and go to bed. I've been so tense that I feel as if I've been playing myself."

"Ok" Alex says. "But don't be too harsh on him. He was provoked, too excited after the hat trick, and when you mix it all..."

"He had promised me to do nothing, tho."

"I know, but... Just don't be too harsh, ok?"

"I'll try."

"Will you call me tomorrow?"

"I will. Goodnight, Alex."

"Goodnight."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Hey" Kylian says, walking into our room.

"Hi."

"Did you watch the game?" he says, getting in bed next to me and hugging me from behind.

"I did."

"I scored a hat trick like I told you I would."

"I know."

"Are you mad?" he asks after a few seconds in silence.

"No."

"Then why are you being so cold? Why aren't you looking at me?"

"Maybe because you also promised that nothing would happen with my ex, yet it did?"

"He started it, I didn't."

"I don't care who started. It still happened."

"I'm sorry" he says, hugging me a bit tighter.

"I hate this. I wish we wouldn't have to see him ever again."

"Well, that may actually happen."

"What?" I say, finally moving to look at him.

"This was our last game of the season against Monaco, we won't be playing against them anymore. But a very reliable source told me that he is leaving."

"Leaving? Where?"

"Turkey" Kylian snorts. "Sorry, sorry. But he isn't playing that much here, and a Turkish team was the only one interested on him."

"And you won't have to play against him anymore?"

"Nope. The team he seems to have signed with doesn't play the Champions League. It is over."

"For real?"

"For real" he says, caressing my cheek. "That jerk won't be bothering us anymore, and now we'll be able to focus on being happy together."

"Finally" I say, letting out a big sigh.

"Will you forgive for the fight, then?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On if the kiss you are about to give me is the best kiss ever" I smirk.

"Lucky you, besides having a hat trick scorer as your boyfriend, he also happens to be a really good kisser. One of the best in France. In Europe. In the world!"

"Yeah, sure" I chuckle.

"Do you want me to show you?" he says with a mischievous smile.

"I'm looking forward to it" I giggle. "I love you, Kylian."

"I love you too" he says before kissing me and showing me that, indeed, he is one of the best kissers in France, Europe and the world.

Though if you ask me... He isn't just one of the best. He is the best.

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe fanfic #football imagine #football fanfic

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usa-manors-library · 2 months

Text

Toledo: Prologue

Wattpad Link for your convenience!

"Pout, pout, pout," Rhode Island mused, retrieving the discarded pillow off of the room's green carpet-decorated floor, "...That seems to be all you want to do today, eh?"

The victim of Rhode Island's comments continued to— you'll never guess what— pout, face buried behind his hair and in his pillows.

Rhode fluffed the cushion thoughtfully, taking a seat on the edge of the sulky boy's bed. He glanced down at his younger brother, wondering how on earth he was saddled with the responsibility of comforting him on this brisk afternoon. It was December for crying out loud. Shouldn't the kid be frolicking in a winter wonderland? Eating ice off the ground? Chucking snow at everything, inanimate or not? Contracting hypothermia? Whatever it was, he knew damn well that there were better candidates than him for the job of convincing the boy.

Alas, it would be admitting defeat if he left to find one right now. Especially if the only other soul he could discover was New York. Ew. Disgusting. Repulsive. If Rhode had a thesaurus on hand, he'd keep going for the rest of the chapter's word count. I can't allow that. I'm not that desperate yet. Besides, it's 1816. The first official thesaurus wouldn't be published for another 36 years.

"...Michigan, you shan't be carrying on like this at the old age of eleven if I can help it," Rhode Island joked light-heartedly, "Look at you. Lying here like a sack of flour. You should have a wife and children by now, if you had a shred of respect for yourself."

Curiously, the territory peered up from his bedding, "...Where are yours, then?"

"I gambled away my dignity years ago in a game of—" Rhode Island paused, having a small flashback sequence to a series of Virginia's threats regarding stories she saw unfit to tell the younger siblings. Traumatizing, "...None of your business. Now. That does it. Get off of the damned bed."

Michigan plopped his head right back into the pillow cave he made for himself, "...No."

Shoot. That was a convincing argument.

Rhode Island started to drag the child off the bed. Unfortunately, little Michigan had a grip of steel to the frame. Which was very disheartening yet impressive for Rhode Island, who (like many of his siblings) couldn't help but notice Michigan's serious lack of right arm since the War of 1812. He had to give the kid credit, losing a limb didn't make him any weaker. Or less stubborn.

What the fresh hell had Georgia been feeding this kid...? He'll never know. It might be crack. Actually, he's met Kentucky. It's definitely crack.

Rhode Island stood, grumbling a few not-so-Virginia-approved words to himself before huffing and turning back to Michigan, "You're being an addle-plot."

A very muffled voice responded with a little; "Your mother's an addle-plot."

"And your father's a whore."

"We have the same father."

"Well, you see, that's funny because—" Rhode Island raced over to the room's door and poked his head out, "OHIO!"

Listen, listen, listen. Calling someone in to take over the second he recognized their footsteps in the hallway wasn't quitting. No. He wasn't bested by a tween. It was calling in reinforcements. That's nothing to be ashamed of. He lasted about one minute and thirty-two seconds longer than he usually did, and he didn't think about smacking a child. He's a warrior. He's a leader. He's—

"Are you beefing with the 11-year-old again?"

He's moving out. He needs his own place. He doesn't need to get disrespected like this. How could they do this to him. It's not like he helped raise them or anything. It's not like he was the one to teach them certain rude hand gestures at the age of six. He knows he already has a spot in his state he could go to. It's a humble little mansion. He can move there permanently instead of using it exclusively for business. He can throw parties and not invite any of his siblings. He can—

Ohio whooshed past Rhode Island as the older continued plotting his escape to freedom. Taking Rhode Island's former seat on the edge of the bed, Ohio patted Michigan's back. Michigan responded by kicking his legs into the mattress.

"...You know you can't talk to him like that," The Buckeye State sighed, "He's little."

With that comment as a sharp slap of reality Rhode Island swerved around and squawked indignantly, "I—!"

Ohio blinked and glanced over his shoulder, "I don't believe I was talking to you."

A small, muffled giggle escaped from the pillows. This was just bleak. He was 0-4 right now.

"I don't need this," The oldest grumbled, retrieving a book of his off of Michigan's small desk, "I have people to spite. Grudges to carry."

"Shelves to not reach?" Michigan's muffled voice suggested.

One day.

One. Day.

May the good Lord give him an abundance of patience, because if He gave him strength there would be lawsuits.

With Rhode Island gone, Michigan flopped from his stomach to his back and offered Ohio a nod, "Morning."

"Morning," Ohio greeted casually, "What's today's tragedy?"

Michigan lifted his head up ever so slightly, "Can't a territory around here act overdramatic and on the cusp of a devastation for fun...?"

Silence. The answer was definitely 'yes'— it's been done many times before by territories, states, and the country himself alike— but saying that wouldn't improve the situation at hand.

Michigan's head flopped back down, "I'm short."

"Devastating," Ohio deadpanned, wondering how he'd break it to his little brother that he was, in fact, a child, "What else?"

"No," Michigan rolled his eyes, "I'm shorter."

Ohio blinked, blank expression on his face. As of right now, Michigan was shorter than a lot of things. Not quite as short as South Carolina's attention span, but still, a lot of things. "...Than who?"

"Than ME."

"You're you. Who's this 'me'?"

"You're Ohio."

"Then who's you?"

"Me? I'm Michigan," Michigan offered a handshake, "Your favorite sibling. Nice to make your acquaintance—"

"That's not— No. Who's shorter?"

"I'm shorter."

"Than who?"

"Than me!"

"Who's taller?"

"Me!"

"You're you!"

"Right!"

Ohio took a deep breath, trying to channel his inner Virginia, "Territory of Michigan, I swear on the grave of New Jersey's hopes and dreams—"

Michigan wailed, quickly getting up to his feet. He grabbed Ohio by the left shoulder and shook him to the best of his ability, "Look at me! Just look at me!"

"Before— before you give me whiplash," Ohio managed to get out, somewhat playing along with Michigan as he pretended to be incapable of pushing back the shakes, "What- What am I looking at?"

"Brace yourself," Michigan released him and looked at him gravely, "Are you ready?"

Ohio nodded, attempting to smooth the wrinkles the territory's grip had left in his shirt, "As I'll ever be."

"I," Michigan solemnly confessed, "Have lost a whole ten miles."

Ohio paused. He glanced around on the room. He looked left. Right. Up. Down. And, if I may be so bold; all around.

"...Where'd you put them, then?" He joked lightly, pretending to check under one of the many pillows.

Michigan threw his left hand up, nearly hysterical, "This is a grave matter, Oheeo!"

"Gesundheit."

"I woke up shorter! I am a VICTIM of ROBBERY!" The younger declared, slapping his thigh for emphasis on each over-pronounced word.

Ohio raised his eyebrows incredulously. Michigan looked perfectly healthy, with his room in perfect order. Nothing seemed out of place, except... "The only thing you're a victim of is that haircut."

Don't judge him. It was his brotherly duty to bully the child. He was doing his job as an upstanding American citizen. All in a day's work.

Michigan guffawed indignantly, trying not to be obvious as he glanced in the mirror beside Ohio. Smoothing down his unkempt mess of waves and curls nonchalantly, the territory resumed his sulking, "Don't you realize what this means for me?"

"You need to hire a new barber?"

"YoU nEeD tO hIrE a NeW bArbEr?" Michigan mocked, scrunching his nose, "Shove over a couple of steps, I need to fling myself dramatically onto my bed again."

Ohio obliged, letting Michigan partake in his moment. A mere handful of seconds passed before Michigan scrambled off of the bed in a hasty movement.

"I didn't like that one," The younger one said quite decidedly, storming past Ohio, "Let me try that again!"

Ohio shrugged, remaining in his spot as Michigan backed up to the door of his room to get a running start this time. Bolting with the grace and agility of a diseased yet well-meaning gazelle, Michigan flopped back onto his bed. Ohio made a mental note to ask where his father got the set of furniture for this room over dinner. Obviously, it was high-quality and sturdy if it survived the little Mitten this long.

Michigan, after surveying how many pillows the force of his landing knocked off, deemed the fall acceptable. He knew his theatrics well, given his familial connections. I cannot conjure up a single name in this family who isn't some variation of a theatric mess. That could be the curse of personifications. Or humans. Or any of the subjects of my writing, for that matter.

Oh no.

I may be the problem.

"O.H.," The child continued, ignoring whichever sister echoed 'I.O.' in the hallway as she passed, "You don't seem a quarter as invested in this as I imagined you'd be."

Ohio shrugged, "You seem far more invested than I imagined you'd be. Weren't you in the room when everyone was talking about this?"

"So we are in another war?"

The state stared at the wide-eyed, disheveled territory. He'll take that as a 'no.' To the misfortune of Michigan's vocal cords, Ohio wasn't able to correct him before the kid screamed into his mattress with the force of a thousand dying seals.

"I knew it!" Michigan groaned, "Oh, Canada! It hasn't even been two years since the last one!"

"That's not—"

"Pack your bags, we're going north," The child grumbled, trudging over to his wardrobe and throwing it open with gusto. He took random articles of clothing, piling them up on the floor, "We're going to kidnap him this time. Perhaps our hands will slip and he'll lose an arm. Maybe both. A leg, perchance. Who knows? I'm can be clumsy—"

Choosing to ignore how concerning that thinly veiled threat was, Ohio grabbed the bunched up mess of clothes from Michigan's hands before he can put them in his growing pile, "We're not at war, Mitten."

"Don't call me that, it's undignified."

"Apologies, Mr. Mitten."

"Thank you. However, it's Mr. Dr. Rev. Mitten to you."

"Right, Mr. Dr. Rev.— Since when were you ordained?"

Michigan stared at him blankly.

"...No matter," Ohio decided to pick and choose his battles today, "As you know, Indiana became a state rather recently."

"Rather off topic, but good for her. I'm very proud," Michigan feigned a sniffle, "They grow up so fast... I hope she remembers to write me every couple of month..."

"...She was given a smidge of your land on her way out—"

──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

"I imagined I was getting KIDNAPPED!" Michigan screeched, slamming his hands on the table, "Again!"

Massachusetts patted the kid, who couldn't quite pinpoint if he was shaking from relief or the fear he finally processed from this morning, on the back. He had no idea what was going on, but, to put it bluntly; the small homeboy looked traumatized.

With a slight hint of sympathy, Indiana apologetically patted the territory on the head, "My sincerest apologies, Mr. Dr. Rev. Mitten."

Michigan shot a deadpan stare at Ohio for half a second. Ohio pretended to not notice it, staring off into the existential void. AKA the window that overlooked the backyard. AKA the joys of the great outdoors. AKA Florida— who was the only adult among the outside crowd and shouldn't technically be condoning that kind of behavior— dangling from a tree while 15-year-old Louisiana was preparing the hit him with a sizable branch as 7-year-old Illinois held 4-year-old Missouri's hand and watched. AKA another unavoidable doctor's bill to America, from his feral offspring, with love. Love, and a little spite. Deserved or undeserved, who knows?

"Ten miles isn't quite much," Indiana continued, ignoring the very loud *THWACK* followed by a Floridian with way too much confidence in the resilience of the human body insisting 'AGAIN!' from outside, "I wouldn't mind if you wanted to reclaim—"

"The land? The land...?" The territory scoffed, "Are you kidding me? I'm happy it turned out to be you. Keep it. I don't care, I haven't the slightest need for it. Happy statehood. But Indie, I had so many revenge plans! Tomfooleries! Shenanigans! Now I can't execute them against the British! My justification is out to sea...!"

Michigan buried his face in his hands, entirely devastated. It was a bit of a shoddy excuse— he will most definitely try to carry out his schemes anyway—, yet he refused to be thought of as a coward. Especially in front of the older siblings. Ew. Yuck. Disgusting. Blegh.

Cowardliness is reserved for the weak. The weak, and when his father gets home from work. In which Michigan will be clinging to him like a stubborn koala and claiming he had something in his eyes. America wouldn't believe him, primarily after getting the day's synopsis from Ohio, but he would make a comment about allergy season and pretend he did nonetheless.

"Michigan," Massachusetts gently reassured, "Connecticut still exists. You still have people to torment. And for good cause."

Michigan sniffled, "...What cause?"

"He exists," The eldest brother tilted his head, "And that's very, very sad."

Michigan slowly took his face from his hands, meeting Massachusetts's genuine, earnest expression.

"...Very well," The territory sighed heavily, shoving his chair back, "I'm going to go bury his shoes in the snow out back. If I'm not back by sunset, assume I moved a single garden pebble and New Jersey is preserving my remains to fertilize the plants come spring."

Indiana's eyebrows climbed up, "Just like that?"

"Consider the matter forgiven," Michigan shrugged as he stood, doing his best to sound like an adult. A Virginia impression, to be exact. It was thoroughly believed among her younger siblings— for better or worse— that she feared nothing on this piddly mortal plane of existence.

As if he were going off to work a regular nine to five, the child sauntered to the doorway of the almost vacant dining room. Looking back at the small assembly, his facade wavered as he pouted— Er. Made an expression that conveyed a serious complaint. "Not forgotten, though. Next person to move my borders without telling me is experiencing bodily harm."

Amused, Ohio watched as his little buddy went off to cause havoc and turmoil.

The issue of Michigan's land was solved, and will never come up again.

...

Yep. No reason to continue following this novel. I told you it was short. That's it. Nothing else happens.

...

Click off of this story. Go read some of NewLostIslands's instead. Shoo, now, shoo.

...

You can go. The show's over. Thank you for your time and— Why is this chapter titled 'Prologue'?

...

Oh, Heckerberry Finn. I have to commit now, don't I?

#USAManor! Michigan #USAManor! Toledo #USAManor! Ohio #USAManor! Rhode Island #Screw Quebec #Statehumans #Countryhumans America #countryhumans usa #Statehumans Michigan #Statehumans Ohio

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jaladwolf · 9 months

Text

This was originally a wattpad oneshot request from a user named @jm009520, who suggested a Halloween themed oneshot featuring Goldie and Freddy!

"And where do you think you’re going?"

Freddy was currently confronting Goldie, who was in costume to go trick or treating with his friends. However, Freddy being the spoil sponge he is, was trying to prevent him from participating.

"Why should it concern you? It's none of your business."

"Oh I think it is. You know you're not allowed to go out there without Henry's permission."

Goldie crossed his arms in a huff. "The only one I need permission from is myself."

Freddy now confused and rather annoyed, gave him a stern face. "That's not how it works..."

"Well whatever. I'm gonna go trick or treating and there's nothing you can do about it."

As he walked past Freddy, he stuck his tongue at him, which only angered Freddy further. But then, his anger suddenly ceased and a grin suddenly formed on his face. Without warning, he grabbed the golden bear's wrist, pinning it above his head in a way where Goldie's back was facing him.

"Hey- what are you doing? Let me go!"

"Oho no you don't. You're not going anywhere."

"W-what are you talking about-"

Before Goldie could even finish his sentence, he felt a finger poke at his side, causing him to jump. He then felt a pawed hand on his side, a fearful giggle escaping as he tried to pull his wrist out of his grasp.

"Oh no. You can't be serious." He protested, a small whine forming that he quickly attempted (and failed) to disguise. Freddy chuckled as he squeezed Goldie's side a bit, making him squeak.

"F-fred, come on...w-we can talk about this..."

"Hmm... It's a little too late for that."

Freddy started scratching his sides with his claws, occasionally drawing shapes in Goldie's ribs. A flurry of laughter spilling out as Goldie immediately started squirming in an attempt to get out of his grip.

"Pffthehehehahah! H-hey! S-stop that!"

"Already? But I just started. Why should I have to stop?"

He began tracing his hand up and down from his waist to his underarms, causing Goldie to let out a small squeak as he tried to push his hand away with his free hand.

"Nohohahahahaha! Not there!"

"Not your side? Alright then what about... here?

Freddy suddenly moved towards his stomach, fluttering his fingers near his midriff causing Goldie to begin protesting in a giggly panic.

“Freddy- wait no no no no no! Don't you dare-!”

But his protest fell on deaf ears as Freddy began mercilessly scratching at his stomach, drawing shapes in the fur. At this point, Goldie had burst into hysterical laughter, trying to push his hand away to no avail.

"FReHEhEHDYheHEHaHAhA! NAHahO! STOhOHoHOhOP!"

Freddy just chuckled at the gold bear's laughter. He finally let go of his wrist, only to use his hand to squeeze and prod at his sides, making Goldie squeal as he constantly tried to pull out of his hold. He'd never felt so helpless in his life.

"What's the matter? Can't take what you dish out?"

"DOHoNt- Don't tease me!"

“Oh? But why not? You seem to be enjoying it.”

"ShuHUut up!"

Freddy suddenly changed positions, laying Goldie flat on his back on the tile floor, before grabbing his ankles and locking them in his arms. Goldie, knowing what's coming, begin to panic.

“Fred-... wai-waititit a minute-! Please dohohohon't-“

He couldn't even finish his sentence before Freddy started scribbling on the soles of his paws, sending the poor bear in near incoherent laughter, as tears started spilling out from his eyes.

"GAH-HAHA! NOHO-NO MOHOHOHOHORE!

"Hmm... Are you sorry?"

FINEHE! FINE YEHES, I'M SOHOHOHOHORY!

With that, Freddy finally stopped tormenting him. He let go of Gold's ankles as the gold bear stood up trying to catch his breath.

"H-holy crap... you're evil..."

"Oh, that was evil? *a playful smile appears on his face.* “Oh no, I’ll show you evil.”

Goldie couldn’t even process what happened next as he felt Freddy’s arms wrap around his waist as he lifted him off the ground.

“Fr-Freddy wait wait wai-waititit! Do-don’t you do it. Ihihi- I swear to God-”

But it was already too late. Freddy lifted the golden bear up to the point where his stomach was right up to his face. He then inhaled deeply, letting Goldie process what he was about to do.

“No no no no no- ”

Goldie’s attempt to protest was cut off as Freddy blew a huge raspberry above the dent where his navel would be.

“EyAhAHAHAAAHahAhahA! Oh GOhAHAHAd! Freddy NoHO! Mercy!”

He couldn’t even stop the shriek he let out as he desperately tried to push the bear’s snout away. Freddy chuckled as he put him back on the floor as Goldie tried to catch their breath.

“So… about the trick or treating thing... I suppose I could try to convince Henry to let you go.”

Goldie’s eyes lit up when he heard this. “Really?!”

Freddy sighed at the golden bear’s sudden excitement. “On one condition... No. Pranks. Got it?”

Goldie made a small salute. “Understood.”

He then picked up his hat that had fallen on the floor during the whole ordeal and went to get his candy bucket. Freddy just hoped he wouldn't have to drag him back for bad behavior.

Yeah, this isn't as themed as I wanted it to be cause’ I got a bit carried away… but on the bright side at least I had fun with it.

#ask goldie anything #grawolfquinn #fnaf tickles #fnaf #tickle fic

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multifandomkpop3 · 4 months

Text

Chapter Two

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of starvation, mentions of child abuse and neglectment, gay relationships, cursing, drinking a little, injuries, parenting, yelling, chaos (If there is more please let me know)

Series Preview: Seventeen received a notification of activity outside their home's gate, prompting them to investigate. Venturing out, they discovered a baby nestled in blankets within a car seat, abandoned without a soul in sight. A note attached to the infant's legs hinted at a story untold, leaving Seventeen to ponder the mysterious circumstances surrounding this unexpected arrival.

Author’s note: Yes I know there would be more legal stuff involved but remember this is fan-fiction, so over look that please!🙏

Link for taglist/ Link for wattpad/Link for A03

*Disclaimer* This series will skip things and rearrange them so they correlate with the story more. I do not own Seventeen or anything with them all I own is Na-Ri and her storyline in this story. Be mindful this is fiction ONLY, which means do not take anything seriously or spread hate. No smut Na-Ri is 2. Most you’ll get is a kiss from the ships between the members. I love a block or report button btw!!

Previous Part/ Next Part

It was around 3 in the afternoon when all 13 members of the famous K-pop band Seventeen returned home after their busy schedule. Half of them were showering, while the others were in the kitchen and living room, preparing dinner. S. Coups, Jeonghan, and Woozi were in the kitchen, bustling about as they worked on La gabi and tteokbokki. They chatted about their day and their plans for tomorrow, their conversation abruptly interrupted by the sound of the alarm system alerting them to someone at the neighborhood gate.

S. Coups, the leader, decided to investigate. He made his way to the screen that displayed a live image of their gate, only to see a car seat turned away from the camera. Concerned, he called Mingyu and Wonwoo to join him in checking it out.

As they stepped out of the house, they remained vigilant, ensuring there were no saesangs using the car seat as a ploy to lure them out. Once they confirmed there was no one else around, they approached the gate and opened it.

"Hyung, I think that's a baby," Mingyu said, glancing at the other two dark-haired men.

"Come on, Mingyu. Who would just leave a baby somewhere?" Wonwoo replied, his expression skeptical.

"No, he's right. That is a baby," S. Coups said, stepping closer to the seat to confirm Mingyu's statement.

"Okay, but why?" Wonwoo bent down next to S. Coups, Mingyu joining them as they all peered at the sleeping child.

"We should take her inside. It's hot out here," Mingyu suggested, reaching to pick up the car seat.

"I don't know, we could get in trouble," S. Coups cautioned, looking between Mingyu and Wonwoo.

"I don't think so, hyung. There's no one else around here. She's alone," Wonwoo said, backing up Mingyu's suggestion.

They carefully lifted the car seat, and the baby stirred slightly but did not wake. As they carried her inside, their bandmates gathered around, their faces a mix of curiosity and concern.

"What’s going on?" Jeonghan asked, his eyes widening at the sight of the car seat.

"We found a baby at the gate," S. Coups explained, placing the seat gently on the living room floor.

"A baby? Are you serious?" Joshua exclaimed, peering over Jeonghan's shoulder.

"Yeah, and she’s alone. We didn’t see anyone else around," Mingyu added, looking at the tiny, sleeping face.

"Well, we can’t just leave her out there," Woozi said, crouching down to get a better look. "Does anyone know what to do with a baby?"

Seungkwan, always practical, suggested, "We should call the authorities. Maybe they can help us figure out what to do next."

"Good idea," S. Coups agreed, already reaching for his phone. "But in the meantime, we need to make sure she’s comfortable. Mingyu, can you grab a blanket? And Jeonghan, could you find something soft for her to lie on?"

As they worked together to care for the unexpected guest, the members of Seventeen couldn’t help but feel a protective instinct kicking in. They had no idea why she was left at their gate, but one thing was certain: they would do everything they could to keep her safe until they figured out the next steps.

Mingyu returned with a soft blanket, and Jeonghan found a plush cushion to lay the baby on. As they carefully lifted her from the car seat, they noticed a folded note tucked into the padding. S. Coups unfolded it and began to read aloud:

"This is Na-Ri. She is 2 years old and very friendly and precious. I am her father. I will not be telling you my name because I do not want you to try to return her to me or her mother. She was in a very dangerous home and the only way I saw to protect her was to give her up. Please take care of her because she deserves the world and more. Don’t allow her to look for me or her mother when she gets older. Just tell her that her mother was sick and her father cared about her and her mother very much and had to make a grave sacrifice. Tell her I love her."

The room fell silent as they absorbed the gravity of the message.

"Wow," Joshua whispered. "This is heavy."

"Yeah," S. Coups agreed, folding the note carefully and placing it back in the car seat. "We need to do right by her."

"Agreed," Woozi said softly, looking at Na-Ri’s peaceful face. "We’ll take care of her."

"Let’s get her settled and then call the authorities," S. Coups decided. "We’ll figure this out together."

They set up a cozy spot for Na-Ri in the living room, laying her on the plush cushion and covering her with the blanket. Seungkwan called the authorities, explaining the situation and the note they found.

A short while later, an officer arrived to speak with them. After hearing the full story, he nodded thoughtfully. "It's clear that Na-Ri's safety was at risk, and her father took desperate measures to ensure she was protected. Given the circumstances and the note, it seems the best course of action would be for you to keep her here for now. We can start the legal process for adoption, but it will take some time."

"Adopt her?" Jeonghan asked, surprise evident in his voice.

"Yes," the officer confirmed. "Given that you found her and she was left in your care, you have the right to apply for guardianship and eventually adoption, if that's something you're willing to do."

The members exchanged glances, the weight of the responsibility settling in.

"Are we ready for this?" Vernon asked, breaking the silence.

"We can do it," DK said firmly. "We have each other, and we can give her the love and support she needs."

S. Coups nodded, determination in his eyes. "Alright, we'll do it. We'll go through the process and make sure Na-Ri has a safe, loving home with us."

The officer smiled, reassured by their commitment. "I'll help you get started on the paperwork. In the meantime, make sure Na-Ri feels safe and cared for. She's lucky to have found her way to you."

As the officer left, the members of Seventeen gathered around Na-Ri, their resolve strengthened. They had a new mission now: to protect and raise this little girl as one of their own, giving her the world and more, just as her father had wished.

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coldresolve · 2 years

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Moneymakers, pt.xxiv // Visitors

Previous / AO3 / Wattpad / Masterlist / Next

After almost fifteen years of working in the shadows, Shaun Jackson is well acclimatized to late night visits.

Sometimes they come barging in, riddled with bullet wounds and bleeding all over the garage floor, leaving his place looking like a warzone. Sometimes, they all but abduct him on behalf of some important fellow, dragging him with them to their latest hideout for a low-key home visit.

Shaun has come to appreciate a simple knock at the door.

With a quick kiss on her cheek, he leaves Imani with the dishes, drying his hands on a tea towel and pulling off his apron, before he steps out into the hallway to open the front door.

It’s been two years, but Kit hasn’t aged a day. His hair is tied in a knot at the back of his head, a few loose strands here and there betraying the length of it. Unhidden, his face sports those vaguely native American features, the high cheekbones, the hooked nose. Perhaps he's a tad thinner, but that’s all the difference to be spotted. Shaun can’t help but grin as he greets the young man, shaking his hand and patting him on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you again, Kit,” he says. “Honestly, I thought you’d left the country.”

Kit returns his smile, but there’s something strained about it. “Likewise,” he says. “Though, I apologize it had to be so late…”

Shaun waves him off. “You’re welcome anytime,” he reassures him.

It’s not until then that Shaun spots the tall, blond man on the curb, in the middle of lighting up a cigarette. As their eyes meet, the man straightens up, blowing out a lungful of smoke, and his gaze darkens, features frozen as something that’s probably supposed to intimidate.

To put it simply, Shaun has seen that expression one too many times for it to have the desired effect. He offers the stranger a professional smile. “Is that your patient?” he asks Kit.

Kit grimaces. “Business partner. Patient’s in the back seat.”

“Well, bring him in, bring him in,” Shaun says. “You’re going to catch your death out here.”

A look is exchanged between Kit and the tall man, who rolls his eyes as he throws his cigarette on the ground, grinding the ember into the pavement with the heel of his boot. As he opens the door to the back seat and crouches out of sight to pick up its inhabitant, Shaun can’t help but notice how tense Kit appears.

It’s subtle, but then again, the man has never been one to wear his emotions on his sleeve. His posture is relaxed enough, but his jaw works on occasion, and the dark, serious look never leaves his eyes. He looks at Shaun, taking a deep breath before he speaks. “I need your full discretion tonight, Shaun,” he says quietly.

Shaun smiles, but it’s marred with confusion. It’s not uncommon for clients to doubt his silence, but Kit should know better, shouldn’t he? Has it been too long? He tries to come up with a scenario in his head that might explain Kit’s paranoia, but finds himself unable to. “Of course,” he says, mirroring Kit’s seriousness, although he’s mostly just confused.

Just then, the tall one shuts the car door with his foot, bridal carrying a much smaller body under a thick blanket, whose face is turned in toward the tall man’s shoulder, as if he’s hiding, clutching a bandaged hand to his chest. As they approach, Shaun begins to hear the faint wheezing sounds of the small one’s labored breathing, the classic shortness of breath associated with pneumonia. He catches Kit looking at him as if he is gauging his reaction to something, but then Shaun gets distracted as the tall one reaches the porch steps.

Shaun gives the tall one and Kit both a friendly smile as he opens his door wide and steps aside to let them both into the narrow hallway. “If you go straight ahead,” he tells the tall one, “down the hall and to the right, you’ll find my office.”

They pass the kitchen on the left, where Imani is wiping down the countertop with a damp cloth. Kit stops in the doorway to briefly greet her, but they don’t exchange many pleasantries before he excuses himself again to follow after the tall one, who has rounded the corner to Shaun’s office.

The kind of unspoken nervousness that enshrines both men usually doesn’t bode well, and it bothers Shaun that he isn’t able to pinpoint precisely what’s at its center. Do the tense glances they occasionally exchange point to a falling out? Is it the way they seem so guarded about the sick one? Is that out of protectiveness or guilt? Shaun has seen both. He’s fairly sure neither would surprise him.

The office is a modest space, barely large enough for all three men to stand at a comfortable distance to one another. One wall is occupied by bookshelves while the other houses his work desk, over which hangs cabinets full of various medical supplies. A good portion of the available floor space is taken up by a black leather cot, which Shaun wordlessly gestures to. He watches as the tall one carefully lays the sick one down on the cot. Hears how the labored breathing gets markedly worse as the guy’s chest is laid down horizontally, a good testament to the fluid in his lungs. In between the ragged breaths is an occasional pained murmur, hands clenched tightly in the blanket they’ve brought along for him.

“I don’t think I caught your name,” Shaun says to the tall one, sticking out his hand.

The tall one casts a quick glance at Kit before he answers. “I’m James,” he says.

Shaun thinks he catches Kit rolling his eyes, but he isn’t entirely sure. “I’m Shaun,” he says, in case James missed it earlier.

It’s not until he’s in the middle of pulling on a set of disposable gloves that he finally decides to get a good look at the unconscious body on the bed, that it all clicks for Shaun. Like a lightning from a clear sky, all their odd behavior suddenly makes perfect sense. He finds himself drawing in a sharp breath, eyes wide as he stares, unmoving, at the soft features.

The hair matted with sweat that nevertheless still curls. The skin, flushed with fever, which still has that tan tone to it, much lighter than Shaun’s, but still noticeable. The eyes, occasionally fluttering against the light, unseeing, and unmistakably blue, like they were in that photo the news station showed of him, the one that looked like he was on vacation somewhere warm, with palms in the background.

Conrad DeWitt.

On instinct, Shaun looks to Kit, who is observing him from the door, arms crossed over his chest. Gauging his reaction in reserved silence.

Clearing his throat, Shaun smiles nervously. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, very consciously donning a more professional façade. “Excuse me,” he mutters. “I was just a little taken aback, that’s all. Now…”

And Shaun gets to work assessing the patient.

As he works, hooking DeWitt up to a multi-parameter monitor by placing five electrodes on his chest – he has no outward reaction to seeing the scars there, letting the revolt wash over him and fade – his thoughts go a million miles per hour, despite his stoic appearance. He takes DeWitt’s temperature, checks his blood pressure and oxygen intake, listens to his lungs, writing down notes on a scrap of paper to get the full picture of the boys health.

James must be the host, he thinks.

Shaun can feel the man’s gaze on him, following his hands. Like Kit, James, too, is gauging his reaction, and paying close attention to what he’s doing to DeWitt.

Shaun has never liked torturers. Never liked their tendency to treat violent behavior like a craft that rewards skill or even talent. Never liked the types that insisted their methods gave trustworthy results, as if their claims were supported by any kind of scientific consensus. Too many times, he has been one to call when things have gone too far. Calls like that have cost him the respect for far too many people.

He idly wonders what kind of man James must be – to do it all not for a perceived greater good, but for the sake of the entertainment of others.

For money.

He wonders what Kit’s involvement is. Surely he has something to do with the tech side of things, that is his expertise, after all - and maybe the time spent living with Shaun has taught him a skill or two to use in the aftermath. Shaun has to admit, Kit might be the perfect man for the job, in his own right.

He just can’t wrap his head around why.

The boy rouses at one point. His eyes flutter open, and his hand reaches up to cover his mouth as he weakly coughs – but it gets tangled in the wires, and that scares him. As if they’re restraining him, Conrad begins to pull at the wires, removing the electrodes from the small pads sticking to his chest, which gives the monitor a faulty flat read, setting off several alarms. Shaun is quick to mute the sound.

As gently as he can, Shaun grabs Conrad’s wrists, holding his arms in place, crossed in front of his chest, as he waits for him to calm down again. And it takes a while, but eventually Conrad does. His panicked, wheezing breaths become sobs intermittently broken by coughing, which then turn into silent crying, as his eyes dart around the room, utterly bewildered and progressively more and more unfocused.

“Let me know if you need me to hold him down,” James says with a crooked smile.

Shaun feels a grimace of disgust flash across his face, before he catches himself, once again returning the mask of professionalism. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” he says.

“Maybe you should go for a smoke, James,” Kit mutters.

James sneers. “What, to let the adults speak in peace?”

“Exactly.” Kit smiles.

James rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Sure.”

As he walks past Shaun, he gives him a pat on the back that’s just a little bit too hard to come across as friendly. Shaun doesn’t react to it, just focuses on picking the monitor’s wires back up from the floor, to click them back on the pads in the correct order.

When James has left, Kit clears his throat. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just trying to provoke a reaction.”

“Don’t I know the type,” Shaun chuckles, but it’s humorless. He steps back to observe Conrad for a bit, and has to admit he’s relieved that James is out of the room. “I’ll give him oxygen and fluids,” he mutters. “Start him on a round of antibiotics. Probably give him something to curb the fever a bit as well.”

Kit nods seriously. He hesitates, absentmindedly tapping a finger against his arm. After a long time, he looks Shaun in the eye. “Can I trust you to keep quiet about this?”

Shaun takes a deep breath, looking at DeWitt. “I’d lie if I told you I don’t find this… disgusting. You’ve put me in a bit of a dilemma regarding my ethical obligations as a doctor.”

Kit nods. “I’m sorry about that. Like I said, I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t strictly necessary. I didn’t want to involve you in all of this.” He paces in the room a bit, eventually settling down leaned against Shaun’s work desk, hands folded in front of him. “One thing I’ve learned from all of this is how well voices can carry under the right circumstances. Saying the right thing in the right forum. It’s a useful skill to know.” He meets Shaun’s eye again. “But if you don’t speak up, neither will I.”

Shaun looks at Kit for a long time, breathing calm, feeling the weight of the atmosphere on his shoulders. When he finally speaks, he does so slowly, carefully. “I’ll stick to my usual discretion, Kit, as I always have. I’d never waive my obligation to privacy.” He smiles. “I’m still within my right to find the torture of an innocent person abhorrent, though. And I’m certainly within my right to tell you about it. Man to man.”

Kit snorts, nodding a little. “I suppose you are.”

Shaun pulls a rubber glove off of his hand, casting a last glance at Conrad before he starts to rummage through his cabinets to find the right medication. “If it’s all the same to you,” he says, “I’d appreciate it if we keep his identity hidden from Imani. She would rip my head off if she knew I were involved with this even peripherally.”

“The less people know, the better.”

“And Kit?”

Kit blinks at him, attentive.

Shaun gives him a forced smile. “I understand why you’d be nervous, but please. You should know better than trying to threaten me into silence.”

Kit laughs.

Previous / Masterlist / Next

#writing #moneymakers #davin #renee #shaun #conrad

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anomalyaly · 9 days

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TWO chapters out today - 10 and 11! We have a Sebastian POV and some banter.

You can read it here on AO3 or Wattpad!

Preview below the cut (TW: mentions of blood, language):

Again with the dead ends.

Sebastian had been even more on edge lately. Anne had been incredibly vague in her letters, which always made him assume the worst. He knew she just didn’t want him to worry, but she should know better - he was going to worry anyway.

The last time Elsie had spoken to him was to rub her victory as Crossed Wand champion in his face after Natty had enthusiastically congratulated her. Otherwise, she was tending to keep her distance. Better for him, anyway - helping her retrieve those missing pages had set him back a bit with his own research.

Then again, he was finding his mind always trailing back to her regardless. It wasn’t just curiosity over what she was searching for anymore, though that certainly still lingered. It was more of the fact that he had enjoyed talking with her and being around her, something that he hadn’t felt since Anne got sick.

Every time he walked into a class he shared with her, he found himself searching the room for her. She was usually hunched over, her dark waves cascading over her face, her freckled nose scrunched in concentration as she fought to catch up on her ever-growing pile of assignments before class each day. It was becoming distracting.

He let out an exasperated sigh as he stormed off to the Undercroft. At least it was quiet enough in there to clear his head, as long as Ominis hadn’t decided he wanted to seek solace in there at the same time.

The gate clattered open and he froze as he spotted someone curled up next to one of the various stacks of boxes.

“You should get a couch in here, you know.”

Sebastian chuckled as Elsie muttered, her knees pulled tightly to her chest, her head buried in her arms as she leaned against them.

“A couch?”

She straightened and gestured around them.

“There’s nowhere to sit. You just come in here and stand the whole time?”

He raised an eyebrow. “The floor seems perfectly fine.”

“It’s dusty.”

Sebastian let out a bark of laughter.

“My apologies, Princess. I’ll make sure the floors are sparkling the next time you come in here.”

He meant it in jest, but she tensed, her eyes flashing with anger.

“Don’t ever call me that.”

He didn’t even know that she had a sensitive nerve, but apparently he had struck it. She always appeared to be so easily cordial. If anything did bother her, she hardly ever showed it.

It bothered him that he was the one to get that reaction out of her.

Sebastian’s face fell into something more serious, and he changed his tone.

“Okay. A couch. Next time Ominis asks about the interior decorating of the Undercroft, I’ll be sure to suggest it to him.”

Elsie let out a snort, and he took it as a small victory. At least she wasn’t scowling at him.

As he took in her appearance more, she looked…worn. Something had clearly happened for her to be down here in the Undercroft speaking to him - especially since she had been so busy with catching up on school work, she hadn’t seemed to have had time to wander down here the past few weeks.

And…was that blood on her?

“What the hell-”

“I didn’t know where else to go,” she sighed, turning to look at him. Sebastian stared in horror at the state of her. The sleeve on her left arm was in tatters and her hair was a disheveled mess. Her stockings were torn, and her knees and exposed shoulder were caked in dried blood. He was at least relieved to see that she didn’t have any open wounds on her.

This was…uncharted territory. It was easy to joke with and tease her. If he kept his distance, kept up his cheerful facade, people wouldn’t look too closely. His own classmates had just recently stopped looking at him as if he was something to be pitied, and he liked it that way. It was easier, shouldering his own burdens.

He considered leaving her in the Undercroft by herself to have the space to herself. He already felt like he had intruded upon something, following her to the Map Chamber a few weeks ago.

It certainly would be easier to just leave.

Instead, he sat down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder, clenching his jaw.

“What happened?”

Elsie leaned her head back against the boxes.

“We returned the book to the Map Chamber. Professor Rackham is one of the Keepers.”

She went without me?!

“Wait.” He shook his head. “The Keepers? Like in Quidditch?”

Elsie shook her head. “No, like…of ancient magic. I don’t even understand it completely. He said that I need to complete four trials first. Professor Fig took me to the first one.”

“Hang on…is that where you came from? What do these trials entail? How come you didn’t tell me before you went? And why-” he gestured to the state of her.

She examined her torn sleeve before answering.

“I went right after I talked to Professor Fig. I didn’t have time,” she muttered. “We went straight there.”

Not a good enough reason, but fine.

She continued speaking.

“I had to travel to a tower, up north of Hogsmeade. I opened a doorway that led me to the first trial. At first, it was like solving puzzles by following the traces of ancient magic, but then…”

He waited. “Then?”

“I had to fight more of those stone statues. When that was finished, there was a much larger one that was the guardian of the pensieve. It was all for a memory that Professor Rackham had involving Isidora. But it barely answered any questions.”

Sebastian hummed, his face showing concern. “And that explains the blood. Fighting something like that. Why the hell would these Keepers make you have to do something like that? You could have died, by the looks of it.”

“Yes,” Elsie said, picking at the spots by her torn stockings. “Professor Fig gave me a Wiggenweld potion, though. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Sebastian said tensely, although he was grateful that at least Fig was there to help her. “Isn’t there another way? Rather than risking your life for these idiotic trials?”

She shook her head. “The Keepers said that in order to prove myself, I need to complete them. They warned me it would be dangerous, but…”

“That’s fucking stupid.”

Elsie’s eyes widened in shock at his bluntness. “Sebastian!”

“What? It’s true. I see no reason to throw yourself into danger simply because some Keepers ask it of you.”

She gritted her teeth. “I need to help Professor Fig find out what Ranrok is after. If these trials will give me answers, then I need to complete them.”

He eyed her up and down. “You could have at least vanished the blood away, you know.”

She shrugged. “I…don’t know how to. I think I’d rather just take a bath. I was too tired to think. Needed to come here to process everything before heading back to the common room, and I’d rather go in when fewer people can see me like this.”

In the short month that he had known her, he had never seen Elsie look so down. He supposed he could understand - she had gone from not knowing magic had existed to being told she needed to complete four “trials”, whatever they were, and she and Fig weren’t getting any answers.

Perhaps they could both use a break.

“Well,” he said softly, pulling out his wand and scourgifying the blood from her, “there’s a harvest festival in Hogsmeade.”

Elsie gave him a weary look before glancing down and realizing she was now relatively clean.

“Sebastian, I’m honestly not sure if you’re trying to be cryptic or taunt me right now, but I’m really not in the mood.”

He shook his head. “I just mean, we both could probably use a break, why not do something fun for a change?”

Merlin knew he could use it. Especially because he was hoping to visit Feldcroft next week to see Anne, and he was nowhere closer to finding a cure than he was a year ago.

Elsie seemed to consider it.

“You really want to risk going to Hogsmeade with me again? After what happened last time?”

Oh. Right. The troll attack.

“Consider this a redo,” Sebastian said brightly. And a good opportunity for me to get to know you better. “It can’t be worse-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she warned. “You know anytime someone says that, it always gets worse. Let’s not test it.”

He nodded, a sly grin on his face. “Fair enough. But I’m not hearing a ‘no.’” He nudged her shoulder with his own playfully.

Elsie sighed, hiding her own smile. “Fine. For the sake of a redo, I’m in.”

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy mc #elsie corvin #secrets of the silent stars #fanfic #my fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebelsie

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britswriting · 7 months

Text

Devotion (23)

Devotion Masterlist

Read on Wattpad

Warnings: Sexual content - I didn't make it extremely detailed, because if I do that it ends up being 2k words...

*Leighton's POV*

Walking back through our apartment door felt like a slap in the face. I expected to immediately get into pack mode and start figuring out logistics; and yet here I was, no new house to prepare for, no concrete plans to think about. I felt stuck; it was infuriating.

Christmas began approaching with no news about us possibly moving and I was starting to lose hope. We really lost our dream home, and I can't imagine how we're supposed to replace that feeling. Having to start from scratch felt like a stab in the back for all my hopes and dreams.

"Got your bag, kiddo?" I called out, Gemma walking out of the bathroom to come put on her shoes.

"Oh no!" She fretted, racing to her room.

I giggled, loving the sound of her little voice as her feet slapped against the hardwood floor. I swiped my phone and keys off the side table, Gemma coming back with her bag over her shoulders.

She looked like she was ready to go off to school causing my heart to clench.

Gemma bent over, velcroing her shoes as I snickered to myself watching her backpack almost topple over her head.

"Mommy help!" She whined, fed up as she tossed her foot in the air towards me, the velcro straps flopping.

"Baby, set your bag on the ground, then velcro your shoes. You're a big girl, you can do it. Daddy's waiting on you, let's go" I rushed, needing to get to Gabe's in time for my midwife appointment.

Gemma talked my ear off the entire way to her father's; running up to his door and jumping to ring the bell, greeting Zara with just as much enthusiasm, happily saying goodbye to me and practically leaving me in her dust as I walked back to my car.

I was happy she was happy with her father, but it still felt weird dropping her off and not picking her up for a few days. She was growing up and it was terrifying.

Colby met up with me at my midwife appointment, ending a phone call before greeting me with a kiss, "Ready to see our baby girl?" he asked, lacing our hands together.

"I'm ready to see how much she's grown" I replied, yanking the door open, cold hair hitting me in the face.

"Ms. Fox?" A bright new smiley face beamed from the front desk.

"Can't wait for the day it's Mrs. Brock" Colby murmured to me as I began to check into our appointment, a silly smile spreading around my face as I sided eyed him before focusing back on the papers.

"Claire should be out in a minute" The woman, Becky— reads her nametag, informed.

Colby and I sat, Colby immediately pulling out his phone to scroll through Instagram, liking posts here and there before opening his text messages.

My eyes rolled as I sighed, quietly complaining, "You know, not to be that girl, but can you get off your phone and talk to me please? This is supposed to be like an important experience for us, and I feel like you're just here because you have to be" I expressed, the nervous butterflies running rampant in my stomach.

Colby glanced at me as I spoke, his thumb clicking the off button, "I didn't know you wanted me to constantly fill the silence"

Is he serious?

"Yes Colby. That's my fricken problem. I can't sit in fricken silence." I groused, turning to face him, "Are you for real? Is it really a big problem for me to want your attention? You know, I recall claiming I wanted date nights and shit when we got back together and look at us now" I huffed.

Am I stupid to think he actually means it when he says he wants this? I swear we agree on one thing and do another. I don't know how else to communicate with this man then bluntly telling him what I want, or need; yet here I am, pregnant with his child and it feels like he'd rather be somewhere else completely.

"I've been busy" He tried to defend, a defeated sigh leaving my lips.

"Yep" is all I said before Claire came and got us, leading us back to the room.

Colby stared as I went through the motions; even when my shirt was resting under my breasts as she measured my belly, just stared. No comments on the baby, on me, not voicing anything. Just his blue beady eyes staring at me like he had fully checked out and got lost in Colby land.

It wasn't until our daughter was on the screen that he made comments, things like "Look at her hand moving" and "She yawned!" cooing over our daughter; it definitely made my ovaries think about how I could maybe keep doing this for him. We got our ultrasound photos, set up our next appointment and Colby asked, "Are we going back to the apartment and taking one vehicle to lunch?" Checking in, twirling his car keys around his finger as we walked.

"That's the plan" I replied, hopeful that this would be like a reconnecting date for us. Something I know we would gratefully benefit from.

No phones. No work. Just us, eating lunch, talking together, enjoying eachothers company.

"Your burger and fries," The waitress placed a plate in front of Colby, "and your grilled cheese and tomato soup" she slid the plate and bowl in front of me. "Can I get you anything else?"

"I'm good, you?" I eyed Colby, Colby kindly dismissing the waitress.

I dipped my grilled cheese before taking a bite, Colby swirling his straw in his soda cup, followed by a drink.

"Do you think I should just give birth in California? I mean, what is the likeness of us finding a house, moving and settling in by the time this baby is born? Especially with a home birth..." I sighed, "I really want to have a home birth, but I feel like every sign is pointing towards it being a bad idea. We literally don't have a place to do it and I'm due in April" I stressed.

With my dad's house having been sold and him temporarily moving in with Logan and Cynthia, I was feeling the pressure of figuring this whole house thing out even more.

Not only was I hitting nesting mode with no nest to prepare, but I was very aware of the calendar days ticking by. This baby had to come out at some point and we were nowhere near prepared.

"Isn't it too late to decide to do a hospital birth?" Colby questioned, not at all making me feel any better about how short our string was getting.

"Is it ever too late? Can't you just show up to the ER in labor and say, GET OUT OF MY WAY, I'M HAVING A BABY" I whisper yelled, Colby chuckling with a head shake.

"That's exactly how Gemma went. I remember it vividly" he teased, popping a fry in his mouth.

"Oh shut up" I scoffed, snickering, taking another bite of my grilled cheese. "I can't believe I'm back in the situation of having a baby with no plan. I really thought things would be different this time. I had such high hopes for that house.. and I can't believe it slipped through our fingers just like that" I snapped my fingers, huffing.

"You have a plan." He credited, "It just isn't going to plan. Like most labor and deliveries"

My eyes rolled, "Shut up. Now is not the time for an I told you so. Am I just going to shove this baby out in our apartment bathroom? Might as well be on a public bus" I grouched.

"We'll figure it out, Leighton" He reassured, taking another bite of his burger.

"When?" I snapped, "When I'm dripping fluids and in severe pain? Because I think by then it's too late to figure it out" My eyes narrowed.

"We can always move after she's born" Colby suggested.

"But that wasn't the plan" I whined, my face scrunched up at the idea of trying to move halfway across the country with two children.

It was a pain in the ass when Gemma was an infant, let alone to have a toddler and a newborn.

"But it's a plan" He emphasized my eyes narrowing again.

"Might as well move back in with Aunt Melissa" I huffed, dragging my spoon through the thick red liquid.

"That's also a plan. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if we were actively house hunting. Your aunt and uncle love when you're over"

"I don't want to keep being in her hair. I'm too old to constantly run to them when shit gets rough"

"I'm just saying we have options. Or we could rent a place, but you don't like airbnb's because of your fear of secret cameras"

"It's a valid fear" I defended, sitting up straighter, feeling the pulling in my lower back.

God I can't wait to get this baby out of me.

"It might be a dice we have to roll if you want to move there before baby girl is born"

"I just hate that nothing, and I mean nothing, ever goes to plan. If it's not one thing, it's another. I don't understand why you aren't more frustrated about this?"

Colby wiped ketchup from his mouth, licking his lips before clearing his throat, "I am frustrated that we keep having to jump through hoops, but we can't just see what's happened. We just need to figure out plan B"

"Well at this point, we're on plan Z" I grouched.

"I'm trying here Leighton, and you're shooting me down" Colby sighed, leaning back against the chair.

"I know, and I'm sorry, It's just.." I sighed, "I'm beyond frustrated with everything. It's pissing me off"

The entire drive home I scrolled through different houses in our price range, none of them marking every checkbox like the house that we lost.

Either you had nice bedrooms and a shitty backyard, or a great backyard but it was on a busy street, and if it wasn't a busy street, it had a nice kitchen and family room, but the crime rate was too high.

Why does nobody talk about how hard it is to find a house to raise your family in?

"We could always build" Colby reminded me, my eyes rolling.

"Colby. I'm due in four months. We're lucky if we can create a fucking floorplan by then" I grumbled, "God," I groaned, "Why couldn't this baby be coming in like.. 2 years from now or something. Something that just gives us more time"

"Leighton, I don't know what to tell you. We need to make a decision eventually, even if it's just temporary. We can always rent a place for a while and build a house or whatever"

"But nothing feels right"

"Babe, you're going to need to give an inch here. If we want to move before this kid is born, we need to have already made solid plans. So what if it isn't your dream kitchen, or beautiful master bath. It's a house that will house our beautiful children temporarily whilst we figure out our long term plan."

I knew he was right, but it didn't make it any less frustrating.

Later that night Colby rubbed the knots out of my back as I showed him different rental properties, holding my tongue about the things I disliked.

It's a house that will house our children. It needs to be safe, not perfect.

We narrowed it down to a few, even sent two to our realtor with offers, sending us back into the agonizing waiting game.

"My body was not made for pregnancy" I groaned, the weight of this baby in my belly taking a toll on me more every single day.

"And yet you carry it beautifully" his warm lips pressed two soft kisses to my left shoulder blade.

"Don't get any bright ideas, Brock. We're done after this" I half joked, relaxing against his touch, allowing all the weight on my back to press into him.

"Are you being serious, or?" His tone was soft, yet concerned.

"I mean.. do you really think I can do this a third time?" I genuinely asked, "I know Gemma's pregnancy medical wise was worse, but this one is really making me miss when there wasn't a baby in my womb. She's killing my muscles"

"Just wait for when she's on your bladder" He half joked.

"You put those words right back in your mouth" I playfully snapped, glaring at him, a smile tugging at my lips; only to give in fully as he kissed me.

"You know I love you, and your body, and the way you carry babies, but if you're being serious about being done....... I guess I just need to cherish this pregnancy a little bit more" He caressed my stomach, placing yet another soft kiss on my stomach.

Flashes of earlier at our midwife appointment appeared in my head, but I shoved them far far away, desperately wanting to bask in the affectionate side of Colby that I've been begging to return, then argue about whatever was going on inside of his head only a few hours prior.

"I'm not saying I'm done for sure.. I'm just... it's hard, Colby. Carrying babies is hard — and if you tell me I carry it beautifully one more time I swear to god" I rushed, Colby's chest vibrating behind me as he chuckled. "I just don't know.. right now.. if I want to do this a third time. I'm sure if we wait a few years I'll want it again, and regret it halfway through, but don't expect me to shove six kids out of my vagina, and if I do, please.. for the love of god, shake some sense into me" I begged, giggling.

"Why would I do that if you make beautiful children?" he asked, kissing my neck.

"Colby" I groaned.. or well.. moaned.

"Hm?" he hummed against my skin, the grumble vibrating against my pulse point, earning yet another moan out of me.

"This isn't fair. I can't think straight if you're making my clit swell, greedy for attention" I huffed, feeling his hand slip between my legs and rub my covered sex, my eyes closing as my legs happily let him in.

"But I like your clit swollen, and greedy for attention. If you want me to stop, tell me to stop and it'll stop" he murmured against my skin, warm wet kissing going up and down my neck from under my jawline all the way down to my collarbone.

"Finish what you started, Brock" I groaned, my back arching off his chest as he pushed my underwear aside, tracing my folds with the tip of his finger, circling around my clit before plunging into my aching center. "Oh my god" I moaned, his finger pumping in and out of my vagina. "Another, please" I begged, or well, cried.

His fingers moved in and out of me, stretching me out before he finally messed with my clit, liquid rushing out of me before I could even process what was happening; my moans loud enough for whomever was on the other side of the wall to hear.

"Jesus christ I've never come so suddenly" I panted, "Pregnancy is wild"

"And beautiful—"

"Shut up Colby before I don't want your cock near me" I groaned, moving to face him.

"Look at your bump, baby" he fawned, his hands running over my stomach.

"Colby" I groaned, my hands on the front of his shoulders, shoving him more into the pillows as I straddled his thighs, his erection pressing against my aching cunt. "Can I try something?" I asked, slightly rubbing myself against him, loving the way I could feel him through our underwear.

"Go for it" he struggled out, pleasure written all over his face as his hands rested against my hips.

I began to slide up and down his cock, the head of his penis pressed firmly against his underwear, peeking out from underneath us as I moved against his length, loving the pressure it put on my clit.

Before I knew it, Colby was groaning, cum seeping through his underwear, the white mess making a puddle that seeped into my own underwear, causing me to move quicker, chasing my own orgasm only for him to carefully flip me over, pulling his cock out from his underwear and slipping it into my quivering center, pounding into me with no remorse.

"Oh my fucking god!" I moaned.

"You're so fucking wet" he grunted, my body slamming against his as our hips moved roughly against each other.

"You're covered in cum" I snickered, my nails raking down his back.

"I'm so fucking sensitive; I'm going to come again" he warned, the bed shaking beneath us before we both came undone together, breathless panting, moans and groans emerging as we separated

"We need to have sex when I'm pregnant more often" I panted, my eyes falling shut as he chuckled.

"That means you need to stop being mad at me so frequently" he smirked, my hand slapping his pec.

Gemma, Cynthia, Harper and I wandered around the mall Christmas shopping, reminding the toddlers that picking out Christmas wishlist gifts is not the same as buying it so we can play with it when we get home.

"So he just blew you off?" Cynthia asked, holding an upset Harper in her arms — moments ago she tried running off, ending in a lecture on safety and strangers before getting swooped up and put in air jail, Gemma toddling in front of us, hopping on the squares of the tile, trying not to step on the lines, her shoes slapping against the shiny white linoleum flooring.

"Well I reached out because of Christmas, you know? And Sam seemed like I was the last person he wanted to talk to, and then I asked Kat, because duh, and I swear it was like I had the plague or some shit. They ended up telling me they couldn't come due to going to their own families for Christmas, but it still rubbed me wrong. I swear ever since Colby and I got back together, things have been weird and it's just strange. I feel like I'm taking Colby away from his friends, but whenever I reach out, it always feels like I'm the last person they want to talk to. The only person who responds to my texts in a proper friendly manner is Stas, and even then, she's busy doing her own thing. So not only do I constantly feel like an outsider, but I can't even group people together to to meet up and spend some time together"

"If you've put in the effort, then that's on them. You can't change the way they act towards you. It's not your fault if Colby never sees them because they decide to be offstandish with you" Cynthia shrugs, "You tried— are trying; you're doing your best. It is strange that Sam's dismissing you though. You guys were close, no?"

"Yes" I sighed, "I'm telling you, ever since Colby and I got together, everything's been weird, and like, Colby used to put Sam on speaker when they talked, or let Gemma talk with him, but there's been so many hushed conversations and anytime he gets lost in his head, he's been conversing with Sam. I just wish one of them would talk to me; I feel like I'm losing them both. The other thing is I tried reaching out to Aaliyah again, but I still haven't heard from her. At this point I feel like I'm just pestering her" I sighed, "And it sucks, because she's my best friend.. or was my best friend, and all because of one stupid fight she's been AWOL. I can't even show up at her doorstep and confront her because I don't know where she is" I complained, "Ugh, enough about my life, how's it going with you and Logan? Is my dad an alright roommate? I swear, Colby and I are working on getting him out of your hair" I joked, Cynthia grinning.

"He's been fine. I think he's enjoyed being around Harper more. I uh.. Logan and I have been meaning to talk to you about something though." Oh god, "Logan has been thinking about doing another year of the Military. Not on active duty, but helping the guys prepare and such, but um.. Harper and I would be following him, meaning we'd be moving out of California for who knows how long. It's just, it's a full time position and I can't go x amount of days without seeing him again" Cynthia's worried expression burned into my brain as my heart rate picked up, "Especially now that we have Harper"

"You're moving?" I questioned, Cynthia slowly nodding, before letting Harper down so the girls could go play at the tiny play spot in the mall. "I know I'm also moving.. but I just.. I don't know, there is something about finding out he's also moving that feels weird. At least it isn't active duty, right?" I sighed, running my hands through my hair. "Why hasn't he told me? I was on the phone with him last night.."

Logan and I try to call each other weekly at least and just catch up, why wouldn't he have mentioned something? How long has he known?

"You're his best friend, Leigh. He's afraid of breaking your heart. He almost didn't take it and thought about following you back to Minnesota" Cynthia confessed.

My heart dropped, "He was?"

"Yes, but then he got this opportunity and it made good pay and such.."

"No, no.. I get it.. it's just.... where is it?"

"Fort Knox, Kentucky"

"Oh. Well that's not too far..." I drifted before looking over at her, "Wait, did he try seeing if he could go to Fort Ripley? That's not tooooo far from Aunt Melissa's"

"All the spots are full. Don't think he didn't try to stay with you. I've never seen a closer sibling bond, I swear he'd leave me in a ditch if it meant protecting you" She laughed, "And that wasn't a dig. I love that about him. I love how close you are. You both need each other, and I love that you guys have each other. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you before we both chickened out and landed in Kentucky and had to figure out a way for you to think we were still in California"

Back at Cynthia's house, the girls and I helped carry in her bags worth of gifts, Nova greeting us at the front door, pulling on my heartstrings, especially since Gemma has been relentlessly asking for a dog, Colby and I's only defense being "The apartment doesn't allow pets" but I knew we were toast once we actually moved.

"Look at that dopey face" I cackled, cupping the rotty's face in my hands, "You're so damn cute" I cooed.

"Remember when she was a puppy? Now look at her" Cynthia laughed, handing a cup of juice to both of the greedy toddlers.

"I'd love to own a rotty, I just.. with two kids and planning to start college I can't imagine trying to puppy train until baby girl is done with her own potty training" I sighed, tossing a rope for the dog.

"Colby will be there to help. I swear you forget you guys are literally engaged. He's made a commitment to help" She laughed.

"He's always working. I can't juggle the house, two kids, working, college and a dog whilst he's gone working"

"But then they're home for an extended period of time, right? He'll especially be around to help with the baby"

"Speaking of the baby. Colby wants to name her Lennon, and I think I agree with him.. just.. we can't figure out a middle name. I swear this baby is coming into this world into complete and utter chaos"

"Lennon is a pretty name. Colby came up with that?"

"Right!? I was surprised too" my chuckle getting drowned out by laughter from the girls, both of them running through the house with some sort of light up, singing Disney wands. "No running through the house!" I yelled, "Someone's going to get hurt!"

"Girls, why don't you go play with Nova outside?" Cynthia shooed them out, both of us moving to the kitchen to keep an eye on them.

We sat at the kitchen table, watching the girls as I explained my frustrations with everything going on.

I mean honestly, was I bringing our daughter into this world with everything being a mess? I haven't even begun to think about what her nursery would look like, or gone through the few things I had kept from Gemma.

We haven't talked about baby showers, or middle names, or if we're co-sleeping, or bottle feeding...

My mind was racing and lagging all at the same time and all I wanted to do was cry.

Gemma and I ended up staying the night since Colby was back in Vegas with Sam, it did not take much to convince us since Logan and Cynthia promised to feed us and Gemma got to have story time with her Papa.

"Do you mind if I drink some wine?" Cynthia asked, a bottle in hand.

My head shook as I scrolled through my phone.

"I missed wine when I was pregnant" Cynthia sighed, plopping down in between Logan and I, a movie ready to be played whenever we were situated, my dad and the kids having gone to bed.

"I miss Deli meat" I snickered, hugging the blanket closer to my body. "I miss sandwiches and like my roll up snacks. I swear you crave the things you can't have when you're pregnant; it's so annoying. Thankfully, Colby doesn't eat them around me, so at least he's thoughtful like that" I chuckled, opening Colby and I's text messages.

Colby 💘: Are we spending Christmas in California? My parents have been asking if I'm making my way to Arizona for the holidays seen

Shit.

Um.

Every reply I tried to send, I ended up deleting, just staring at his message.

I knew we should. It was his family after all, and I've kept him away from them enough as it is.. but Arizona? With a toddler? And me being pregnant? I'm sure all the flights are taken too..

Do you want to?

Really Leighton? Out of all the possibilities you could've sent..

Colby 💘: You don't?

Aren't the Christmas flights taken?

Colby 💘: We could drive

That's what I was afraid of.

With a toddler? Remember last time?

Colby 💘: So no?

Motherfucker.

I groaned, feeling Logan's eyes on me as I sent a quick reply back.

Could they come here?

"What's wrong?" Logan asked.

"Colby wants to go to his family's for Christmas. Yes I know how that sounds" I grouched, "It's just.. 13 hours in the car when you're pregnant and your toddler doesn't like to sit still? It's going to be a nightmare. Let alone the traffic of everyone else traveling for the holidays. If he wanted to go, I wish he would've mentioned it sooner so we could've looked at flights for us or them"

"Some nightmare's are worth going through if it makes your husband happy" Cynthia piped up, ignoring my glare.

"Cynthia, zip it" I spoke through clenched teeth, Logan's head cocking.

"Oh? What kind of nightmares are those?" he asked, my head falling back with a groan.

Here we go.

Before I knew it, Cynthia and Logan were "arguing" - bickering more like it, but it seemed more serious. If it was Colby and I, we'd already be yelling.. or well.. I'd be yelling, but is that really an important detail?..

"I say just suck it up and go. Especially with how guilty you feel "dragging" him to Minnesota" Cynthia shrugged, placing her wine glass in the kitchen whilst Logan took Nova on a quick nightly walk.

"But 13 hours" I whined, "And then some. That's not counting pit stops for both me and the toddler"

"But it will make Colby happy"

"Will it? His future wife and his daughter complaining the whole time about how hungry they are, about how much they don't wanna be in the car anymore? How shitty they're feeling? Not to mention I don't really feel like playing fake happy wife who loves her partner's family when I'm trying to just get through this pregnancy. I'm truly so fucking done of everything hurting and she's even been kind to my bladder lately"

"I still say just do it. Especially since you don't see them that often"

Easier said than done. I don't see her looking like she's about to burst at the seams.

I snuggled in the blankets on their fairly comfy couch, my father having taken over the guest bedroom, opening Colby's texts back up.

Colby 💘: Not with their back pain

What about my back pain?

Colby 💘: I can look at possible flights later.

Colby 💘: Sam and I are going to start filming again

Colby 💘: Goodnight. I love you.

Uggggggh

We can go

I'm staying at Cynthia's tonight and we're heading to bed so goodnight I love you too. Be safe with Sam please.

That morning I woke up, immediately checking my phone only for my eyes to practically pop out of my head at my notifications.

Colby 💘: Thank you

Sam and I just got to the hotel I'm getting home around 2pm tomorrow fyi

Landon 🙄:

How long do you boil eggs for?

I keep fucking it up.

Finn and Xavier think I can't cook 🙄

Aaliyah ✨: Hey. I'm sorry for being MIA. Can we meet up and talk?

"Mornin' Momma! We make.. make pan..pancakes!" My darling daughter announced at an ear piercing volume.

"Gemma, inside voices" I groaned, stretching as I sat up, realizing just how badly I had to pee.

"Momma?"

"Yes honey"

"Coco didn't call" she pouted, her arms crossed over her chest.

"What?"

"Coco didn't call. Coco always calls when bye bye"

Oh.

"I'm sorry baby. Coco was busy talking to mommy about seeing his parents. We'll make sure he pays for forgetting, okay? Where's Papa?"

"Papa with Harper"

"Why don't you go join them whilst momma pees and then we can go eat your pancakes?" I suggested, shoving myself up off the couch.

"OKAY!" She yelled, already running off.

Kids have too much energy at all times of the day.

I opened Aaliyah's texts whilst I was peeing, my heart pounding as I replied, yet again constantly typing and deleting my message.

How do I calmly reply without making it awkward? Or like I'm overexcited?

Where would you like to meet?

I groaned at my reply, not only hating how "nonchalant" it felt, but also knowing that I now had to wait for a reply.

Colby called whilst we were eating breakfast, Gemma taking over the phone call as I helped Cynthia keep eggs and pancakes off the floor — much to Nova and my backs dismay.

Why does nobody talk about how much squats suck when you're pregnant? Cynthia ended up having to help me up a few times which was almost as equally embarrassing as it was wobbling and almost falling over.

Gemma gave Colby an earful about breaking his promise, Colby profusely apologizing, bribing Gemma with an ice cream date in exchange for an acceptance of apology, happily winning her over.

Colby had barely walked through the apartment door before he and Gemma were off on their way, abandoning me with my nerves as I got ready to meet up with Aaliyah.

I slipped on some maternity jeans, a flowy top and ran a brush through my long dark hair, pretending like I wasn't sweating buckets at just the thought of what she wants to talk about.

My fingers kept tapping the steering wheel as I drove, completely off beat to the music I put on as an attempt to distract myself.

I refused to allow myself to sit in my own nerves any longer, slamming my car door shut and swinging the coffee shop door open, the intense coffee ground smell smacking me in the face, slightly triggering my gag reflex.

Great.

With a grimace smile, I pushed my shoulders back and scanned the shop, not seeing anyone who remotely looked like Aaliyah.

I sent a quick text before ordering a pastry and finding a seat.

I guess I was going to have to sit in my nerves after all.

I couldn't get myself to sit still if it had to save my life. My fingers kept tapping against the table, or swiping through nonsense on my phone; the pastry quickly diminishing as I just sat here waiting.

She reached out, out of the blue, having ignored me for months... for what? To just chit chat? That is if she didn't stand me up first.

Colby texted, informing me that they had gotten back to the apartment, texting me a photo of Gemma's speech therapy games, asking which ones she was worse at, thankfully providing me a few minutes of distraction.

Every time the bell rang above the door, my eyes glanced up, hoping, only to be let down.

Was I seriously getting stood up? Was this her idea of a joke? A final fuck you?

With singed hope, I checked our texts one more time, hearing yet another bell ring, only to finally be greeted by a woman who vaguely looked like my once best friend.

"Hey.. you haven't changed at all." A soft, sad voice said, my brow pulling together.

Was that a compliment or an insult?

"Aaliyah?" I questioned, watching her nod, finally taking a seat across from me. "You look... different" I stumbled, trying to keep a straight face, knowing I was failing.

Her roots were dark, showing, not that that was a problem, it just was unlike her. I don't think I've ever seen her natural hair color show this much. Her blonde hair was long, appearing tousled. She's always been skinny, but she looked skinner, her baggy shirt appearing a size or two too big, rather than huge her form like it used to.

"I uh, how are you?" She asked, my face had to look bewildered as I stared back at her in shock.

"Me? How are you?! It's been what... forever?" I expressed, sitting up straighter in the chair, my hand covering my bump so it didn't hit the table, drawing her attention to it.

"You're very pregnant." She noted, "When are you due again?"

"April. What uh.. what have you been up to?" I asked, hating the way her shoulders fell.

"Nothing much. How are you and Colby? Still going strong?" She asked, her eyes telling me she didn't care and was just trying to be polite.

She all around lacked emotional presence. I felt like I was staring at a shell of my best friend, her eyes confirming my assumptions as the once shining gleam lacked their glimmer.

"Still engaged" I showed my left hand, wiggling my fingers, "Have you found anybody new?" I asked, Aaliyah shaking her head. "Where are you living now?"

"With a few roommates" She replied numbly.

"That's nice. Are they nice?" I asked, trying to brighten the mood a little bit; failing.

"It's fine"

"All girls?" I asked, Aaliyah nodding.

"That's nice. Where do you work then?"

She was quiet, chewing her lower lip, finally replying, "With my roomates"

"Oh. Interesting. What do you guys do? Is it like.. work pays for it or whatever? Or did you guys start a business together? Did you meet at work?" I tried to engage with her, wanting so desperately to be back in her life, but it felt like pulling teeth to get even an inch of slack from her.

"No I um.. well.. uh.. what are you doing for work?" She quickly changed the subject.

"Oh. I've been working in sales in a clothing and shoe store. Nicer pay, easier whilst pregnant, but uh, Colby and I were talking about moving, so I might put in my notice soon. Plus with the baby coming soon. A lot's been going on. Have you tried talking to River since you guys broke up? Any idea how he's doing?" I asked, fishing for anything to work with.

Her head shook.

"How's Gemma?" She switched again, a smile broadening on my face at the name of my daughter.

"She's good!" I grinned, "She's four now. Taller. Speaks more. Drives me nuts sometimes" I giggled, "She's indifferent about being a big sister. Some days she's excited, other days not so much"

"I'm sure she's forgotten about me" Aaliyah sighs, slouching back in the chair.

My head shook, "How could she forget her Lay Lay?" I tossed a sympathetic smile. "You're her godmother Aaliyah. She'll always remember you"

"Have you thought about who will be the godparent of this kid?" She questioned, surprising me.

"Haven't discussed it too much. I thought about asking Landon, or Sam. I don't know what Colby wants"

Aaliyah nodded, glancing around the place.

I sighed, "Why did you finally reach out, Aaliyah? I've tried for months. I hated how I treated you when we argued. I've wanted to apologize for ages, and you've just gone mute on me"

"Well.. I didn't have a phone for a while. I finally earned money to get another one" She showed me an older model IPhone. "I uh.. honestly? I wasn't in a good place to rehash everything with you. I needed to figure things out"

"And have you?" I asked, Aaliyah's head shaking.

"No, which is why I finally wanted to meet up with you. I.." she trailed off, "I just wanted to see how you are. If you're okay. How things have been. How Gemma is. How the pregnancy is going. Wanted to check in on someone who was once my best friend"

Ouch.

"Once was?" I whispered, my eyes starting to get glassy.

Was my best friend breaking up with me? Is that even a thing?

"I'm not good for you Leighton. You're thriving" that was a stretch, "and I just.. I just wanted to see it for myself. You have a future husband, children, an entire life ready for you. You know I'll always be there for you, but..." But? I felt warm tears start to fall down my face, Aaliyah looking away. "You're so much better off without me. Without me meddling. I just.. I think you've grown so much without me, and it's a good thing. It's a good thing that you've made so much progress in your own life. Just the way your face lights up when you talk about your daughter tells me that much" Her own tears fell, "I just wanted to make sure you were happy. That you were okay. You're still sober, right?" She asked, my head nodding. "See?" her voice cracked, "You're good without me, and I think it needs to stay that way"

I so desperately wanted to tell her just how wrong she was. How my life was still a mess, and how I was nowhere near ready to plan a wedding, or have a baby, but I couldn't help but focus on how it felt like she used me. She got me here with wishful thinking, knowing she had ill intentions. Who does that? Who reaches out, talks about reconnecting after months of no contact, only to practically break up with you?

"So that's what this was?" I sniffled, wiping at my face, "You met up with me, just to tell me you didn't want to be my friend anymore?"

"It's not that I don't want to. It's that I can't" She replied, adding salt to the wound.

"You can't? What does that even mean! I've tried so hard, Aaliyah! I know you think I'm selfish, and maybe I am, but I've tried too hard to reach out. To talk to you. To be there for you, and you just.. you can't be my friend anymore?"

"It's not safe for you to reach out, Leigh. You have an entire life going for you. We'll always have our memories, but... I needed to tell you in person that I can't do this anymore. Okay?"

Not safe?! What does that even mean!

"No! Not okay! What the hell, Aaliyah! You're scaring me. What's going on? What's wrong?"

"Leighton. Please" She quietly begged, my head shaking rapidly.

"No. I refuse to give up on you. You have no valid reason to not be my friend. I can respect your boundaries, but nothing about this feels right! Tell me what's going on, please" I begged.

If she wanted to cut ties, fine. If she no longer wanted to be connected to me, I could deal with that... but this... it felt like she had a gun to her head and needed to say what she needed to say to get out alive; it just didn't sit well with me.

"You're better off without me—" She tried again.

"Bullshit!" I interrupted, "All I've wanted is to be your friend. To be there for you. I don't care if that's you at your worst, or your best. If this is your worst, just tell me. Tell me how I can help. Is it your living situation? Do you need somewhere to stay? Because I have options Aaliyah. I have family more than willing to open their doors to you. I have a toddler at home who would love to see you. You can't just walk away for no reason. You've been there for me way more than I have for you, and when I finally get the chance to repay you just.. you what.. cut the goddamn cord? No." My head shook, my lips pursed as I refused whatever insane thing was going on right now. "What do you need from me? How can I help you? Clearly something is going on" I begged, hating how I was getting shoved away without a chance to fight for us.

I could tell she had made up her mind, I just wish I knew why.

Was it really all because of that stupid fight? or was it something more?

"You can't help me, Leighton"

"That's not true—" I interrupted, only for Aaliyah to interrupt me.

"I'm happy you're happy, Leighton. Truly. If anyone deserves it, it's you" She smiled softly, her hand reaching across the table for me, her touch burning with bittersweet memories.

The tears were flowing freely, my brain trying to catch up with what was going on right now, failing miserably.

"If I need you, I'll call you. Okay? Just.. let me do this. Please" She begged, my head nodding before I could stop it.

"I love you. Okay? Whatever you need. Just tell me" I begged her to promise, Aaliyah bending to hug me, whispering back that she loved me, and that she was happy for me, before walking away; right out of my life.

What the hell just happened?

I walked through my apartment door in shambles marching past Colby who was sat on the couch, laptop resting on his thighs, shutting our bedroom door behind me, undressing.

I felt dirty. Like my crystal clear lake was now a murky pond.

The entire drive home I tried to understand what I had done. Relaying every text I sent, every conversation we've had. How it got to this point. I simply didn't understand and I don't think I ever will.

All I know is I lost my best friend. The person who's been there for me through thick and thin... and the second she needed me like I needed her, she cut the tie.

I lost her before I could even try to fight for her and I had no clue what to do.

* * * * This chapters been "done" since January. I just wasn't happy with it and got writers block cus I didn't know how to fix it... and well.. now it's March uh..

If this book was a jenga tower, it's about to tumble 👀

Written on: December 21st 2023, January 4th, 7th, 8th, 10th, 14th, 22nd, March 6th 2024

Published: March 6th 2024

Word Count: 7210

Part Twenty Four

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1rsoldiersince2012 · 1 year

Text

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 3841 (chapter 28)

Summary:

You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case. Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that? What happens when you get involved in Fisk's business and Daredevil's lies against your will?

UPDATES: expect the unexpected but have hope

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28. Chasing Wind in the Dead of Night, pt. 2

"Morning." You open the doors of Nelson and Murdock, and are immediately greeted by Matt's sour face, and it takes you by surprise that he's sitting at Karen's desk.

"Hey." He makes himself at least to greet you, but his voice is just above the whisper.

"Where is everybody?" You hang your coat, noticing that only Matt's was hanging.

"Foggy went out to Landman and Zach with Karen." He says, jaw visibly tightening.

"What for?" You sit in front of him and drop your purse next to your legs, together with a paper bag, whereas Matt drops the papers that he's been reading in an angry manner.

"A case." He says with a serious tone, crossing his arms.

"The Spanish lady one?" You furrow your eyebrows slightly, recalling the glare she gave you yesterday.

"Yes, the one you almost dropped." Matt's jaw tightens a little when he takes in your perfume. You poured a lot more than you usually would, but you still smell like him. Wesley.

"I'm really not used to giving out charity when this place is falling apart, Matt."

"You work for me..." he takes a longer pause than he actually needed and quickly finishes his sentence, "and Foggy, which means that you have to consult us before deciding if the person is worth our time."

"I would, but you know, the problem is that you're barely in the office, boss." You stress the last word, and Matt clenches his fist under the table. He knows deep down that you're right. Without money, they soon will have to close the office, and the money they got from Melissa's case barely covered this month's rent.

"As a defence attorney, you should start acting like one." He slips accidentally, and closes his eyes for a moment.

"Rough night, Murdock?" You dodge his statement, instead of starting the defence lawyer argument again. You still had to come a long way to become a real defence attorney, and this pressure from Matt was only putting fuel in the fire.

"Might ask you the same thing." He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms on his chest.

"A little, yeah, but you know... Exactly how I like." You say with something in your voice that Matt can't quite put his finger around, but it makes his stomach drop.

He left yesterday when Wesley kissed your forehead and closed the door. Now he would have given anything to be able to force himself to leave earlier, but his legs felt like lead, preventing him from moving. "Foggy told me that you left early yesterday."

"I had plans." You say, feeling how your mouth suddenly got dry.

"You didn't finish finalizing the case."

You roll your eyes, and feel like you're back in Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz again, on your trial-week, afraid that a minor mistake will ruin your chances of getting applied there full-time. This lawyer passive-aggressive behaviour was exactly how Benowitz treated you that first week, and exactly how Hogarth scolded you when you lost to Murdock your first case, despite winning 5 before.

"I'll do it today, that's why I'm here." You say instead, turning your head slightly to the right, as if to avoid looking at Matt.

"Try to not leave until the work day is over." He says rather coldly, but softens his tone almost immediately, "please."

"Sure, boss. I'll bore myself to death, only if it pleases you." You get ready to stand up, when Matt changes the topic, a desire to talk with you winning the battle inside of him.

"Anything important happened yesterday?"

"A charity event. For kids fighting cancer." You put your butt back on the chair.

"Oh. You went alone?" He asks nonchalantly, but you catch his all-knowing tone.

"No." Is all you say, Matt furrows his eyebrows slightly. "A secret donator gave 50 thousand dollars."

"That's the biggest donation?"

"Yes." You sigh, "apparently people now donate to trendy things. Cancer's not 'trendy' in Hell's Kitchen anymore."

"Rich people." Matt huffs, thinking that you might take that as an insult, yet, you don't.

"Yeah. Anyway, gotta get to work now." You stand up and take a few steps before stopping next to the office, "any idea when they're coming back?"

"No, why?" Matt takes off his glasses, turning his head to you.

"Oh, just thought that we could order some take out for lunch." You smile, and he smiles back for the first time since yesterday, feeling that he can't be angry at you for too long. After all, it was his fault that he didn't stop you from going out with Wesley again. "You know, just consulting with you."

"I'll think about it, thank you." He keeps the smile on his face even after you disappear in the depths of the office, feeling like he can't control it anymore.

"Oh, right, I forgot-" you quickly return from the office and notice a glimpse of Matt's silly smile.

"What is it?" He quickly collects himself, intently waiting for your next words.

"I'm returning what's yours, Mr Murdock, and in case you didn't have any clean pants left, I washed them." You pull neatly folded gray pants out of the bag and give them to Matt across the table. He takes them, feeling how the softener and laundry detergent made the material soft and almost silky, so pleasant to touch. Your fingers brush against his for a second, and Matt feels a lump in his throat that he can't swallow. Your cheeks turn pink and you pull out your hand quicker. "Might want to bring them home, in case the rats decide to wreck the office." You smile and walk back to the office, feeling your heart beating in your chest and palms sweating. Matt takes a deep breath in, savouring the scent of the laundry detergent.

***

"Hey listen, do you mind doing a favour to a blind man?" Matt returns to the office some time later, carrying all the papers back to his desk. He had already admitted to himself that he got a bit lonely there at Karen's desk, and the silent shuffling of rats somewhere in the walls has not made it any easier for him to work.

"Depends on what kind of favour we're talking." You say, not pulling your eyes from the computer screen, but feeling a slight gust of wind when Matt passes behind your back.

"Will you take me to the Precinct?"

"What for?" You finally hit send with the final report of Melissa's case being done for good.

"I have a couple of questions to ask." He puts the papers on his desk and leans on it, waiting for your answer.

"Is this gonna count as an overtime?" You ask slyly, noticing a grin on Matt's face.

"In another company, maybe."

"You're such a bad employer, you know that?" You tease, closing your computer.

"Well, that's a first one." He theatrically grabs his heart and gets ready to leave, when suddenly he grabs his head with one hand and the edge of the table with another, knocking down the vase and flowers down. Water spills down, splashing on your heels, the vase shatters into pieces and roses get dumped into this whole mess.

"Oh, shit!" You jump from your seat, quickly getting away from the water, but notice how Matt sways a little, still gripping the table. Despite the shards, you tightly grip his arm, "Matt, you okay? What happened?"

He almost falls into your embrace, taking a deep breath. "I-" the words gets stuck in his throat when you touch his face, looking for what might've caused him to act that way.

"Matt? Matt?" You pull him away from the mess, still holding his arms tightly, and force him to sit down for a moment.

"I just got dizzy, that's all." He says, rubbing his eyes for a second. Regaining consciousness, he can still feel your hands softly touching his arms and checking his pulse...

"Your heart's beating like crazy, you sure you're not sick?" You ask again, touching his forehead to see if he has a temperature.

"y/n..." Matt smiles slightly, fighting the urge to hug you right there.

"And your face is burning, Jesus," your palm gently touches his face, noticing how red it became instantly, or maybe he just blushes a lot... "you're sure it's not fever?"

"I'm fine, doctor, thank you. I just don't sleep enough lately, that's all." Matt closes his eyes and enjoys the moment - your fingers touching his face, a single spray of perfume on your wrist, but he can't let you worry about this any longer. Although he was blind, he knew your eyebrows were knitted together, left hand resting on your hip in a disapproving manner.

"Well, that's bad, did you try drinking warm milk before bed?"

Matt smiles slightly, "no, I doubt it would help."

"Camomile tea?" You pull your hand back, resisting the urge to fix his messy hair.

"Don't have it."

"Got completely wasted?" You ask with a half grin, noticing Matt's raised eyebrow, "what? Works for me."

"Nothing to celebrate now."

"... Got laid?" You feel your cheeks getting hotter but don't pull your eyes away from him, "I mean, men have a tendency to fall asleep right after the deal."

"Never had complaints about that," Matt chuckles, getting up, "but no."

"Well then, my medical knowledge ends here." You spin on your heel, walking around the table to pick up the flowers.

"Sorry about them." Matt says, coming close to you, "how can I help? Just point me towards something."

"You need to sit down, that ain't two people job." You pick up the flowers, in rather terrible condition and decide to throw them out, after all they were starting to look bad. Matt tries to protest and starts picking up the glass shards, when you grab his wrist, "Murdock, I got this, you're just gonna cut yourself."

"Don't treat me like a baby."

"But you are one." With your free hand, you push him into the armchair and throw the flowers into the trash can, along with the big pieces of glass, watching Matt sit like a good boy in the corner of your eye. "Do we have paper towels by any chance?"

"Unless Karen bought some." Matt rests his elbows on his knees, listening to you walking around the office like a bee.

"Hold on." You mutter to yourself and leave the room, quickly checking the cabinet in the kitchen area. "Jackpot." You return triumphantly with a paper towel roll and get on your knees to wipe the spilled water, or at least make sure it doesn't leak downstairs. "We're good to go, unless you want to go home and rest." You stand up, slightly out of breath.

"Of course, yeah."

He stands up, feeling your hand snake up on his elbow, "great, let's go then."

The walk to your car is silent, but Matt feels like enough is said through your touch. The way you were firmly holding his elbow and slightly pushing him forward, indicated that worry still hasn't left you, and you were going to make sure to not let him out of your sight today again.

***

"Well look who it is." Brett Mahoney looks up from the documents he's been filling only to see Matt and you nearing his temporarily occupied desk.

"Good day to you too, Brett." Matt extends his arm in front of him, waiting for Mahoney to shake it.

"I see that you're not alone, and strangely with the opponent's lawyer." Brett smiles, briefly looking you two up and down.

"Y/n y/ln, Nelson and Murdock associate, nice to meet you, Brett." You smile with a sugary grin, tightly shaking Brett's hand.

"Nelson and Murdock?" He asks, surprise evident on his face, "didn't know you were hiring, Murdock."

"Well, not anymore." Matt chuckles lowly, coming closer to Mahoney's desk, "how's your mom, Sergeant?"

"Smells like a stogie.Otherwise, um..."

"Yeah, I keep telling Foggy not to get her cigars..." Matt says, not finishing the thought.

"... But she'd sneak 'em one way or the other. Crafty old bird." Brett laughs, making you wonder how long these two have known each other. And if Mahoney has been giving potential cases to Matt.

"Right, it's why we're here. Friend of hers has a case we're looking into."

"You going after Tully?"

"Yeah, you know him?" You look around the Precinct, not too busy at this hour, but it's lunchtime soon and it will be even emptier.

"Yeah, yeah, guy's a real scumbag.But he stays just this side of ordinance, so there's nothing we can do." Brett sighs loudly, rolling his eyes.

"Can you pull some copies of the complaints? Maybe get us a minute or two with the officers who took them?" Matt asks, with a strange puppy-like face.

"You really think you can help?" He looks at you again, curious expression on his face. He's heard about you being near-excellent in Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz, but he has never met you in person before, so it was natural for him to feel conflicted about your presence.

"Yeah, we can try." Matt slightly nudges your elbow, smiling politely.

"Let me see what I can find." Mahoney turns around to reach into the box full of documents. "Miss Y/l/n, I haven't exactly heard much about you, but your father is still considered to be one of the best in the whole state. It's a shame that he retired so early, I mean, if I looked like this at his age, I'd be kicking criminals' asses every day." He briefly turns to look at you, then smiles slightly, "I hope that you won't be bringing cigars to my mom, Foggy knows how to convince people."

"Don't worry about that, I think I'm immune to these two." You smile politely, pushing your father's retirement into the farthest corner of your mind.

"Okay, so I have 14 complaints, 5 of them by the same person, and..." Brett quickly checks the papers, "3 officers took them."

"Great, can we get them here for a sec?" You ask, looking at Matt for a moment, checking if he's not going to faint any time soon.

"I'll try, but it's almost noon, so you know, lunch." Brett looks at you apologetically and leaves the desk.

You and Matt are left in a comfortable silence, leaning on the Sergeant's desk, facing each other. Matt listens to your calm breathing but feels your eyes burning holes in his forehead. He didn't understand what happened in the office but perhaps it was only exhaustion finally catching up with him. In the corner of your eye, you notice a couple of officers coming together, guided by Mahoney until he disappears in the hallway again. "You're taking the woman, Murdock." You say, grinning slyly as they slowly approach Sergeant's desk.

"What? Why?" Matt whispers under his breath, eyebrows knitted together.

"You can work your charm, good luck." You pat his bicep and turn towards the young officer, probably around your age, with a smile.

"Afternoon, are you the lawyers?" He asks, looking at Matt briefly, before directing his whole attention to you.

"Yes, we're from Nelson and Murdock, I'm their associate y/n y/l/n, can we just. ask a couple of questions about the complaints?" You take a couple of steps to the right, further from Matt and the officer immediately gets your clue.

"Sure, ma'am, we can sit down at my office." He says, already showing the way, and his partner also gets the clue to stay with Matt.

"I hope we're not interrupting your work, it'll only take a couple of minutes." You say apologetically, batting your eyelashes at the man.

"Oh, definitely not, ma'am, our job is to help you." He smiles brightly, and you get a feeling that he chose the wrong profession.

"Please, you can call me y/n, that ma'am makes me feel old." You chuckle, stepping into the small office. "Well, that's cozy, officer..." You squint slightly to read the last name printed on his shirt, "Wright."

"Harry, please, take a seat." He motions for you to sit down, while he closes the blinds so the afternoon sun would not blind you. "So, you wanted to know about the complaints for..."

"Tully." You help him, smile never leaving your face. It was one of the ways to earn complete trust with new people.

"Ah, yes, Tully. I've been getting calls from the same house pretty often." He puckers his lips and starts digging the pile of papers on his desk. Sun rays that managed to get through the blinds were getting lost in his blonde hair, almost making him look like a saint. You scan the office quickly - couple of photos with his dog, him on a trip somewhere with his friends, and a medal for something hanging on his wall. No framed pictures on his desk, and no ring on his finger. "Here they are." He turns back to you, a small pile of papers in his hands.

"Thank you, Harry." You take them, hands briefly touching, and he gets flustered immediately.

"The complaints were written by the same person, right? Mr Aguirero?"

"Right."

"All five of them in the span of..."

"Only a month." Harry smiles, helping you with the sentence.

"Now the question is..." You skim over the complaints, "is Tully that bad, or is Mr Aguirero so fussy?"

"Both. I've met with Tully four times, he showed me all the legal documents right away and got pretty defensive when I suggested to reach a calm agreement with the residents of the building." Harry sighs, continuing, "Mr Aguirero said that if he saw Tully, he'd throw a bowl of fish heads on him, so yeah."

"Well, I guess the landlord was chosen perfectly." You smirk, noticing how Harry licked his dry lips. "So the complaints are mostly about the checks being late, Tully demanding the rent money right at the beginning of the month and some technical difficulties not being fixed, right?"

"Yes, but the last one, just a week ago, is a bit odd," he points to the bottom page, "Aguirero said that some men were going around the building, knocking on everyone's doors and asking to move out as quickly as possible because the renovation is about to begin."

"But the landlord has to warn residents about those things at least-"

"4 months prior." Harry finishes, not pulling his eyes from you.

"How did those men look like?"

"Ordinary men, probably nothing memorable about them, since Aguirero only mentioned them looking 'intimidating'." Harry watches you for a moment, deep in thought, "got an idea?"

"I think it's something bigger. Someone behind Tully. Landlord wouldn't send some random people to tell important things."

"I thought the same, yet couldn't figure out who could be working with Tully. A man like him has too many connections to be traced easily, and of course, complaints like these," he motions with his wrist at the papers, "are not our top priority."

"Of course, I understand, your job is very important." You smile brightly, standing up from the chair. Matt had to be just about done too.

"As is yours, my respect for lawyers is very high." He extends his arm, and firmly squeezes yours in a handshake.

"Good to know, officer Wright."

"I hope it was helpful, sorry that I had so little to offer." He looks at the floor, or at your legs, you were not sure, but continued to hold his hand for a little longer than necessary.

"That was more than helpful, thank you for your time. I think my partner is already waiting for me," you let go of his hand and turn towards the exist, "have a great day, officer."

"You too, y/n," he smiles and watches you leave his office, then mutters under his breath, "you too."

Stepping into the hallway, you see Matt and a redhead woman still chatting, but when you get closer, the officer bids goodbye and hurries out into the elevator.

"Hey," you gently touch Matt's elbow, "all done?"

"Yeah, I think we're good to go." Matt sighs, crossing his elbow with yours. "Any luck?"

"Not quite, but I think that someone is hiding behind Tully."

"I thought so too, one of the officers mentioned that some men were visiting residents. Could be someone's men, hired to kick everyone out." Matt takes a deep breath of fresh air when you step out of the Precinct.

"But whose?"

"I guess we'll have to dig deeper here." Matt sighs again, before you stop him next to the entrance.

"Wait, I need to smoke." You pull out a pack of cigarettes, not paying much attention to Matt, whereas he overhears two detectives interrogating a Russian... Someone he beat up recently.

One of them, he makes out from the conversation, named Blake, leans on the cold metal table, "Now I just want you to tell me again, how did it start? We have you at the scene with a dead Chinese illegal, Pyotr, and a backpack full of drugs."

"Uh-oh. I'd buy you a one-way ticket to thirty years in Assholeland." His partner, Hoffman mocks.

That'd give you some time to touch up on those tattoos. You boys do that to yourselves, or do you all get shirtless and poke each other?" Blake looks at Piotr with visible digust.

"Do you know who I work for?" Piotr asks, thinking that he is in control of the situation.

Hoffman lets out a laugh, "A couple of dipshit brothers nobody gives a wank about."

Blake taps the table and waves, "Bye-bye, dickhead. Enjoy your next thirty."

They turn to leave, when Piotr stops them. "Wait. What if I give you another name?"

"He'd have to be big." Hoffman smiles menacingly.

"He'd have to be King freakin' Kong." Blake says with already serious face.

"He is..." Piotr stutters, "His name... is Wilson Fisk."

Blake and Hoffman stare at Piotr for a few seconds. Blake walks around the table, leaning close to his face, "Well, what else do you know about this guy?"

Piotr audibly gulps, "Not much. No one is supposed to say his name. But I will tell you everything I know for deal."

"For deal." Blake mocks, securing Pyotr's right wrist to the table, then turns to Hoffman, "Whose turn is it?"

Hoffman crosses his arms, "Yours."

"I thought I took it for that thing in the bodega." Blake turns to look at his partner again.

"Oh, shit, yeah." Hoffman closes his eyes, making a face, but then stops, "All right, wait, wait." Piotr looks between the two men, confused about what they're doing. "Okay. Come on. Come on." Hoffman exhales loudly and suddenly gets punched in the face by Blake and falls, backing himself up against the wall. Matt furrows his eyebrows, listening intently.

"Watch out! Jeez, he's going for my gun!" Hoffman shouts.

"Watch out!" Blake shouts, pulling his gun out and pointing at Piotr.

"He's got my gun!" Hoffman continues shouting, Piotr holds his hands up, panicking.

"You really shouldn't have said his name." Blake shoots Piotr in the head, and he falls from the chair, handcuffs holding his wrist from completely touching the floor.

Even outside, the shot is heard clear as the day, and Matt quickly hugs you, pushing your body close to the cement wall. You drop your cigarette on the ground, breathing heavily from the collision with the wall and Matt's body. "What the hell" you whisper, breathing heavily in Matt's ear.

Officers from the outside run into the Precinct, chaos inside makes everyone run around like crazy, shouting "shots fired" and "take cover."

Matt remains silent, listening to Blake and Hoffman put on their act.

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