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mamamittens · 1 year

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Oh, Sweet Child of Mine (Pt. 11)

Platonic Whitebeard Crew & Reader-Insert

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Warnings: Yandere behavior (somehow I think I managed to loop Teach into it now too, so congrats, you've charmed a bastard man). If you find yandere content uncomfortable, please do block the tag 'oh sweet child of mine' as well as any relevant variations to 'one piece yandere'.

Do not tolerate this behavior in real life.

Stay safe and have fun!

If my mental math is correct, I should finish this in 4~ish more chapters. So we're nearing the end!

Also, surprisingly sympathetic take on Teach's backstory, didn't know I had it in me. This is assuming the fan theory that he's from a winter island and was with Whitebeard since he was young, btw.

Word Count: 2,099

Teach grinned as his new crew set the sails to leave the small island he’d recruited them from. Dawn was just breaking and he wanted to make good time—just in case he already had tails from his old crew. He wasn’t entirely sure how much of a head start he had given the rush he was in to ensure Thatch didn’t eat the fruit. Decades looking for it and he nearly lost his chance again.

He adjusted your limp body under his arm for a moment, enjoying the palpable feeling of his power increasing from the contact. The shadows seemed to writhe hungrily at his senses, eagerly awaiting his command in a way they simply didn’t without you. You… well, you were a bit of last minute surprise as well. Sure, in theory, he could just take your fruit but he wasn’t confident it would work the same way. And he couldn’t risk wasting it if it didn’t. Besides, you’re the perfect bait.

He has the power. He has the plan. Now he just needs the reputation to become the Pirate King. And what better way than taking down his old crew one at a time? Sowing chaos to fracture them until Oyaji is too weak to stand against him and properly claim rise to his lofty goals as ‘Blackbeard’. Killing Thatch would certainly get someone on his ass, though he was torn between commanders as to who it could be. Izo was sore enough about losing old friends, and Marco may feel responsible as first mate. But Ace—well, he was a spitfire at the best of times and his old commander to boot.

Taking you was sort of like kicking the hornet’s nest. While also becoming even more powerful in a single move. How could he not do it?

The minor issue of ensuring you never have a chance of squirming away was easily solved with a bit of chain. It’s not like you were particularly strong, though you were smart enough to not do anything too risky—which he appreciated really. Though he’d prefer you sticking around willingly if only to not have to carry you every time you fell asleep.

Teach chuckled a little to himself as he returned to his newly minted quarters. You were wearing down pretty fast the longer he was ‘on the run’. No real chance to properly rest or recuperate from what must be a stressful situation—for you at least. If he neglected to feed you every now and then it only helped ensure you were weaker than before. Who knows, he might not even need the chain if this kept up.

Teach set you down on the sparse bed, unhooking his end of the chain to secure it to the latch on the wall. It wasn’t like he was going to use the bed himself. He paused a moment to watch as you curled up against the wall, completely dead to the world.

Heh. Cute.

He didn’t get why Oyaji recruited the way he did. Pretending to be a big family when they were actually just a band of pirates taking what they wanted. Too soft for a man with the strength to do anything he desired. Too many vulnerabilities. But every so often he thought he understood it… a little. Late night parties with lighthearted competition. Long running arguments about inane subject that both parties are a little too invested in to be serious.

Teach reached down and removed your glasses, examining the cracked lens. Bending it in the light to watch it refract as he considered your position. His prisoner and, technically, first mate. Though he wouldn’t be having you fight—not that he’d trust you to fight for him right now. He had the absolute upper hand over you. Chose to stay his hand. Because you had use to him.

He heard you shudder a little and paused, setting the thick glasses down. You were cold—weak body sensitive to the relative chill in the room. Unbidden, he remembered long, cold nights on his home island in the snow. Powerless and unsure if he’d survive to see daylight again.

Until Oyaji found him. A small, frail part of his chest ached at the memory. The sheer relief that he was safe now. His next meal guaranteed at no cost. No more cold, lonely nights. Even now, he calls him that. Oyaji. Despite fully planning to kill him. The idea didn’t conflict in his head. It was simply the way of things. Old replaced by the new. What higher respect could he pay his father-figure than personally ensuring his demise to further his own prospects? To step out of the shadows and get rid of one of the few people alive that can remember the sad, pathetic child in the snow?

Perhaps this strange sense of sentiment was his own, personal weakness. Crafted by a man too weak of heart to truly conquer the seas.

Teach shrugged off his coat, laying it over you gently. Chuckling when you stopped trembling.

He was a pirate. He could indulge in whatever vice he wanted… though perhaps cautiously. It wouldn’t do to deride Oyaji for something he, himself, was guilty of in excess.

He didn’t get why Marco took you. Why Oyaji agreed to take you in. Well, aside from your devil fruit. But the soft glove approach smacked of weakness given your surprisingly stubborn refusal.

But the slow, rolling satisfaction that settled in his chest knowing that he made sure you weren’t cold… he thought he could understand Oyaji a little better now. Why he kept picking up strays everywhere he went so indulgently in the same way he’d sneak sips of good booze when the nurses weren’t looking.

It was a strange, frail sort of pride to partake in. Pride at providing. But Teach learned at Oyaji’s knee to take enjoyment from the little things in life.

Besides, it wasn’t like you could sell him out or take advantage of what scraps he gave you. As long as you behaved, he supposed there was no problem in these small gestures of kindness. So long as you never forgot your place, that is.

--*--

Luffy laughed, loudly and with glee as his older brother teased his crew. He was so proud of the people he’d recruited so far and wanted Ace to see what he did. Those bright, beautiful sparks that drew Luffy like a moth to flame. The spark that Ace himself had since they were children that only grew since they parted. Ace was still hurt, a little broken inside, but it had healed since they last met.

“Why are you here, anyhow?” Nami asked, “I thought Whitebeard mostly stuck to the New World?” Ever inquisitive, Luffy’s smile widened at how clever his navigator was. Ace scowled, tipping his head towards the man he brought with him.

Pineapple. Well, Ace called him ‘Marco’ but obviously Pineapple was better. Tall and blond with bright blue eyes—achingly reminding him of Sabo but different enough that Luffy could barely see the ghost of his other brother.

“We’re tracking down a traitor. He tried to kill one of our own and kidnapped another.” Pineapple scowled with dark eyes. Luffy’s crew was shocked—giving Luffy the impression that this was an even bigger deal than he first thought.

“A nakama-killer? Who?” Ussop asked breathlessly, “What kind of monster would make it out from a Yonko ship after that?!”

“Teach.” Ace hissed in a way that reminded Luffy of the few times he said Bluejam or Celestial Dragon. Fire flickering between his teeth. “He goes by ‘Blackbeard’ now. Promise me if you run into him you won’t fight him, Lu. He nearly killed Thatch. You’re not strong enough to fight him yet.”

Luffy made a noise of surprise, both at Ace’s words and the name.

“Hey, didn’t we already run into him?” Zoro asked, glancing at Luffy for confirmation. Luffy remembered the weird pirate well. Poor taste in food and rude as hell.

“Yeah, we did actually. Weird guy with a weird laugh. With the tired four-eyes.” The two looked at Luffy sharply. “I almost got in a fight with him but he weirded me out.”

“Tired four eyes?” Ace asked with a pissed off expression. Luffy felt a small twinge of guilt for not helping the stranger at the time, but something inside him whispered ‘not yet’.

“Yeah. They were connected with a chain. Thought he had a slave or something but Nami said it wasn’t quite right.” Luffy explained. Nami nodded, tensing slightly as the two looked at her for more answers.

“Well, usually slaves just have the collar. And he didn’t make any demands or order them around. They just had to… follow him. He even yanked them by accident and apologized. Most slave owners don’t bother with that.” Nami huffed.

Luffy pouted. They looked promising. He even felt… weird when they were around. Like he was stronger somehow. His heart like a steel drum in his chest. Like he felt when he was around his nakama. But they lacked a… spark. Like they lost it and Luffy didn’t know how to give it back. Almost tried anyway but his crew stopped him.

He hoped that next time they found that spark again. He’d love to have them on his crew.

Ace nodded.

“We’re getting close, at least. Hopefully we’ll catch up to them soon. Who knows, we might be able to introduce you guys properly!” Ace grinned, the edges a little sharp like he was suggesting dine-in-dashing when they were kids and hunting crocodiles was too much of a hassle. Luffy grinned.

“I wanna meet them again! Hey! Hey! Ace, do you think they’d join my crew?” Luffy cackled when Pineapple and Ace jolted at the question. Ace narrowed his eyes, clicking his tongue with a thin smile.

“Oi! Don’t go stealing from my crew, you little shit!” Ace hooked his arm around Luffy’s neck stretching it out as he gave Luffy a noogie through his hat.

Luffy squirmed, crying out at the unfairness.

“Ack! Aaaaccee~! They look cool. Though really tired! I promise to take good care of them! Ace!” Luffy complained. Arms failing uselessly as Ace kept him pinned in place. “Ace!”

Luffy’s crew watched with wide eyes as Pineapple smirked from his spot against the wall.

Okay, that felt a little like Sabo.

--*--

You looked out at the growing island, Banaro, chain wrapped around your waist so it wouldn’t drag across the deck. You knew that Teach would come over shortly to reattach it to his bracelet. For the past couple of months, he’d given you relative freedom while at sea and restricting your movement once they got close enough to an island. For the most part, you’d been avoiding the crew, which Teach encouraged.

Probably to make sure you didn’t get any outside help, not that you felt confident you would have received any if you’d asked.

The closest chances to escape you’ve noticed was the revolutionary early into your capture with Teach and Straw Hat—surprisingly. Not that you think Teach knew that.

Though the occasional spotting of a sea king was also promising, Teach had them firmly sail in whatever direction was away from potential pods. Kill joy.

Anyway, it wasn’t that Straw Hat was stronger than Teach, he was definitely a bit too green to manage it given Teach’s decades at sea.

But… that devil fruit of his.

It called out to you. Boundless as the horizon. A drumbeat that vibrated your soul. A call to… something. Something just out of your reach. And you had the sense that if you had only known what that ‘something’ was, Straw Hat would have thrown hands the minute he saw you.

The pirate seemingly breathing in sync with his fruit, only held back by how weak he was currently. Which was a strange thing to sense. Usually fruits were just not utilized well. They didn’t typically hold such obvious power that the user simply was unable to access it at that time.

It felt elastic. Snappy and twisting in a way that you found delightful. Made you want to laugh without even hearing what he was saying.

You smiled a little. Strangely optimistic for the first time in a long time.

Pirate King, huh?

… Somehow, you felt as though Straw Hat Luffy would shake the world. And despite being a ex-marine, you looked forward to it.

Hopefully, you’d be in a position to see it for yourself.

#one piece yandere #yandere whitebeard crew #platonic yandere #reader insert #oh sweet child of mine #reader making everyone yandere istg #really got that rizz #not always a good thing tho #yandere blackbeard #yandere ace #yandere marco

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imagine-you · 2 years

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Stranger Things Masterlist

Boys Like You [complete, 21k]

↳ You’re sure Steve Harrington will never notice you. Billy Hargrove sets out to prove you wrong.

Reach Out and Touch Faith [in progress, 16k]

↳ Sequel to Boys Like You. You leave Hawkins for the summer and come back to a total shitshow. The new mall burned down, Chief Hopper and Billy among the causalities, and everyone, including Steve, seems to be hiding something from you. To make matters worse, you keep hearing and seeing Billy, but that can't be possible. Billy's dead...isn't he?

This Is Real [complete, 2k]

↳ “ i just need to know that something’s real. ” or “ i don’t know who to trust anymore. ” with steve harrington??

Trust Me [complete, 1k]

↳ Steve Harrington x reader with the prompt "why didn't you tell me you were hurt?!"

You Should Be Here With Me [complete, 2k]

↳ "We go to the same college and are trying to get home for the holiday break, but our flights got cancelled so we’re road tripping it together; when we finally get there, we realize that the friend you’re visiting is actually my sibling who was plotting to set us up, but their work is already done now" + steve harrington

I've Got You [complete, 2k]

↳ "For the Christmas prompts could you do certified rich boy Steve Harrington takes you skiing for the first time and the lift gets stuck, and oh boy are you uncomfortable with rickety, swinging metal benches 40 feet in the air."

Open the Door [complete, 2k]

↳ "Please open the door. It’s cold out here." for Steve Harrington/reader.

Keep Me Warm [complete, 3k]

↳ steve harrington x "sweater" prompt? /// steve harrington + "scarf" prompt please?

If I Only Could [complete, 1k]

↳ "Steve Harrington/reader with them at the end of episode 6, beginning of 7. How they interact in that moment. Protective, hurt Steve.

You Still Catch My Eye

↳ Last Christmas and the horrors of Hawkins are on your mind, but you know Steve is exactly what you need to feel right again.

Baby, You're a Haunted House [complete, 58k]

↳ You grew up in the lab along with Kali and Jane. When Kali escapes the lab, you manage to escape with her. When Jane finds the two of you, you're not sure what to make of her. You think she's going to be like Kali, but Jane manages to surprise you. You decide to go back to Hawkins with her when she leaves to save her friends and manage to find your way to the kind of life you've wanted all along. [Headcanons]

Love's Strange [complete, 9k]

↳ “You were starting to get your hopes up that it would only be the four of you, but then the library door opened once again and your hopes were quickly dashed by the sight of Billy Hargrove being escorted inside by Principal Himbry. Himbry had a hand on Billy's elbow, as if he thought Billy was about to make a run for it if he didn't personally usher him inside the room."

Going Under [complete, 1k]

↳ billy hargrove + “what happened to her?” & “i—-i can’t breathe…!”

Cover Up Love's Alibi [complete, 4k]

↳ "could you if possible please write a slasher fic where billy hargrove is ghostface who is tormenting reader with eerie phonecalls to upset her just so he can comfort her as billy because they’re really close as friends i.e mutually pining after each other but Billy’s idea to get your affection is to protect you from danger, soothe your anxiety and stay over night with you for safety but obvs he doesn’t want you in any real danger he just wants you to think your in danger so he dons the ghostface mask."

In the Midnight Hour [complete, 5k]

↳ billy hargrove + demon + “did you think they could protect you?”

Don't Blame Me

↳ One boyfriend clawing his way free from the clutches of the Upside Down once it decided to unleash its own brand of hell on Hawkins was a miracle you weren't sure you entirely deserved. When another previously dead boyfriend shows up on your doorstep and throws your whole world into chaos, you start to wonder if it's a blessing or a curse. You're terrified you'll have to choose between your first love and the guy who saved you from yourself, but will that turn out to be the least of your worries? As word begins to spread around town of a masked killer draining Hawkins residents of their blood, you realize you're a lot closer to danger than you've ever been before, but maybe, just this once, it's not such a bad thing after all.

Living As Foes [in progress, 14k]

↳ It only takes you one week to realize Eddie Munson hates you. It only takes you one year to fall in love with him. Go figure.

Like a Secret In Your Throat [complete, 1k]

↳ eddie munson + vampire + the freaks come out at night

This is Why

↳ Inspired by this list and the prompts: "Are you travelling alone?" / "Come on, just take it."

Don't Blame Me

#stranger things #masterlist #stranger things masterlist #steve harrington x reader #billy hargrove x reader #eddie munson x reader

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aebi12 · 11 months

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"Sinful Desires" - Epilogue

Previous chapters - Masterlist

“Do you find everything terribly strange?”

Aegon jumps at hearing Alyssa's voice.

“I am sorry, darling, I didn't mean to scare you,” she apologizes walking slowly towards her brother, who is leaning on the balcony watching the new soldiers training in one of the castle courtyards.

"You just caught me by surprise," he replies, reassuring her with a smile and offering his arm for support, “Should you be out of bed? Your maid said that you weren't feeling well this morning."

"It's nothing," Alyssa rolls her eyes and looks at her brother, "You seem worried."

Her green eyes scan the young prince’s face, his brow furrowed slightly and his violet eyes tired. When their gazes meet, Aegon shrugs, and Alyssa, for an instant, sees again the little boy he once was. A nostalgic smile is born on her lips while her hand caresses Aegon's face feeling a stubble that manages to draw a sigh.

“Sometimes I still can't believe how much you've grown in these years,” she says

Now it is Aegon's turn to roll his eyes, though he then takes Alyssa's hand and places a kiss on her knuckles, "While you, mother, look more radiant and beautiful than ever."

The princess can't help but smile at his compliment, "Did they also instructed you in gallantries in Riverrun?"

Aegon chuckles and shakes his head, his gaze drifting once more to the soldiers for an instant.

“Talk to me, Egg. You may be a man now, but I can still tell when something is bothering you, what is it?

There is a moment of silence before he speaks, “I don't know if I am ready. I don't know if I can do it"

She doesn't need to ask what he is referring to.

“You have prepared your whole life for this moment, Aegon, yet it is normal to have doubts. I'd be amazed if you didn't."

“I don't know,” he shakes his head, “Everything suddenly feels real now that I am here again. I feel like I wasted a lot of time living in the Riverlands when I could be here, doing more for the realm. Learning more about my duties."

"You weren't wasting time. You were Lord Kermit's squire and it was an honor for him to receive you these last few years in his ancestral home. The visits you made to the other lords of the Trident were necessary. You were too young to remember much about the war, but you know how important it is to keep the peace. That part of the realm was hit the hardest when our family bled, spending this time with them is a way for the Crown to make amends for what happened."

“I know, I know you are right, it's just…” he trails off, clearly measuring his words, “It's weird to be back. Everything looks the same, but feels different. And suddenly I have all these responsibilities. I understand the burden that weighs on my shoulders, and for that very reason I fear that I am not capable enough”

“This is your birthright,” Alyssa assures him, “I know you will make a fine king because you are a good boy.”

“You say that because you are my mother,” he retorts, dismissing her comment.

Alyssa just smiles.

At some point after her wedding to Aemond, Aegon had begun referring to her as his mother. At first, Alyssa had thought he was doing it by mistake, but when he began calling Aemond father, she knew her little brother was doing it knowingly. It had taken her a while to get used to him referring to her that way, but she hadn't tried to correct him. She hadn't pushed aside the memory of Rhaenyra, either.

No. Actually, the biggest challenge she and Aemond had had over the years was being honest with the children. As much as they tried to isolate them from the bloodiest facts of the war, the rumors and whispers were always there. So, after much discussion, they had explained to Aegon and Jaehaera what had happened, the terrible way their family had split into two factions and fought each other almost to extinction.

“We survived because we understood that House Targaryen must stick together,” she had told nine-year-old Aegon and Jaehaera. Aemond had been mostly silent throughout the entire conversation. He didn't say it, but Alyssa knew that he feared Aegon's reaction to knowing that he had killed his father, “We did many things to keep you both safe and protected, that was always the priority for both of us. For you to be happy, having a better future than ours."

As always, it had been Aegon who had asked the questions. Many of them. And they had responded as sincerely as they could. Jaehaera, on her side, had remained almost silent, her blue eyes more wistful than ever. Alyssa knew that, from time to time, she still had nightmares. And she also knew that the girl, unlike her brother, had experienced firsthand the horrors of war.

In the end, when they had been told everything, Aegon had remained tremendously close to Aemond, assuring that he was the only father he knew and loved.

“I'm saying this because it's the truth,” Alyssa assures him, “Besides, you won't be alone. The small council will help you to rule. As king, it is your duty to listen to them and theirs to advise you in the best way possible. You can trust them. Lord Tyland is a loyal man and I know he loves you well."

"Lord Tyland is a good friend," a soft smile appears on her little brother's handsome face.

"You don't sound convinced"

It takes Aegon another minute to reply.

“I don't want to disappoint you,” he finally admits, “Father has taken good care of the kingdom all these years. I would hate to see all his efforts come to naught on my own."

“Aegon, you could never disappoint us,” she assures him, “We are both very proud of you and your sister. We know that now that we will return to Dragonstone, you both will assume your duties with the best possible disposition and sense of responsibility. The realm is in good hands."

"Do you really have to go?" he asks, his voice denoting for the first time all the nervousness he feels, his face clearly anxious about the task he will have to take on shortly.

“My beloved boy,” she replies with a sigh, taking his hand, “I don't like leaving when you came back so recently, either. But the news was so unexpected and took us so by surprise that we just want…”

"Privacy?" he smiles, “It is fine, mother, I understand. Don't listen to me, I'm being selfish keeping you here when I should have insisted that you leave long ago. You deserve to live this moment as you choose."

Alyssa can't help but feel her tears well up in her eyes as she places her hand on her swollen belly, the baby moving inside her, perhaps sensing how emotional she feels.

"Is something wrong? Should I call Alys?" Aegon asks, noticing a wince on her face.

“No, no, I'm fine, it's normal to be this sore when the moment is so close,” she assures him, “I'm fine,” she repeats, noticing her brother's anxious expression.

And she is.

Discovering that she was with child had been a tremendous surprise. After her last loss in Harrenhal, her moon blood hadn't returned for months. And it hadn't flowed regularly until barely a year ago, though Alyssa had long ago given up hope of being a mother, so she hadn't even taken that fact into account. That was why, upon discovering her pregnancy, she had tried not to get her hopes up too much. But, as the months passed and the baby grew inside her, Alyssa had sent for Alys, immediately entrusting her old friend with the task of taking care of her during her miraculous pregnancy.

"I thought it was impossible," she had said with tears of happiness in her eyes upon seeing the woman after so many years.

"I told you that your body could heal," she had replied, examining her.

Aemond had not left her side for an instant since that moment. And she had had a hard time convincing him that she was fine and that she could carry on with her regular activities since Alys and Jaehaera would keep her company. He had reluctantly agreed, returning to his work with the Small Council.

“We should go to Dragonstone for a while after the baby is born,” he had told her one night a few weeks ago.

"Why?"

“We've waited so long for this,” Aemond had replied, “No, we didn't even imagine it could happen, but now that we'll have our baby after so many years, I want these moments to belong to just the two of us. Or the three of us. At least for a time"

Alyssa hadn't responded immediately.

"You do not like the idea?"

“I like it,” she admits, “But the kids…”

“They are already adults. Aegon is almost eighteen years old. It is time for him to assume his place as king. Besides, we won't be that far. If they need us, they can fly to the island without problem.”

"I guess," she nods.

The idea seems a bit selfish, yes, but the truth is that Alyssa can't wait any longer to meet the baby she's carrying inside. And to imagine that she could get away from the court, from her duties, from the whispers that followed her after so many years of infertility, and simply dedicate herself to watching her little one grow, together with Aemond, is too tempting an idea to pass.

"Let’s go then, for a time," she finally says, "the baby will need its siblings eventually."

"Of course," he smiles, "Besides, knowing those two, they'll surely visit us as soon as they can and we don't even have time to miss them."

Alyssa laughs, "You said the same thing when we sent Egg to Riverrun and he barely writes to us."

"He's young, my love, he must have other things on his mind," the prince kisses her forehead and places his hands on her belly, caressing it and smiling as he feels the baby move under his touch, "Besides, you could have flown with me when I offered it to you”

Alyssa rolls her eyes and doesn't respond. Dragon riding would never be an activity she would choose more than as a last resort. More than once Jaehaera had invited her to ride Morghul, but she had declined.

“I just hope they are okay once we are gone,” she sighs, “they haven't seen each other in years.”

The roar of a dragon and the shadow that casts over them tears Alyssa from her memories, bringing her to the present in the balcony with Aegon.

"Morghul," he says quietly, raising his violet eyes to the sky.

"Why didn't you go fly with Jaehaera?"

Aegon grimaces before shrugging again, "Lord Corlys wanted to talk to me about the situation of the royal fleet”

“Don't drown in your duties just yet, Egg. Aemond is still here, and it won't be long before we return from Dragonstone, you know he likes to feel useful to the realm," they both smile at her affirmation. “You could use some rest. You should take advantage of these days, and spend time with Jaehaera. When you were kids you couldn't wait to mount your dragons. And now that you are both riders, I haven't seen you fly together yet."

"Yes, I might do that"

Aegon sighs and Alyssa watches his expression, which seems to be lost for a few seconds. The princess wonders if her little brother is also worried about staying with Jaehaera in the castle. They had been very close as children, but learning about the war had created a kind of distance between them that Alyssa had thought they had managed to overcome over time. Until Aegon had had to go serve as squire and Jaehaera had resented being left behind.

"You don't have to marry Jaehaera if you don't want to"

"What?" Aegon watches her with wonder in his eyes, his shoulders tense and his brows furrowed once more.

“It's okay if you don't love her that way,” Alyssa explains, “I know it was expected for you to get married and carry on the tradition of our house, but we won't force a union that would make you both unhappy. If there's someone else, perhaps someone you met in the Riverlands,” Alyssa proposes tentatively, “If she's a noble young lady, you could easily make her your queen. Any maiden would be more than happy to marry you."

“And what would happen to Jaehaera?”

“She is a princess, she has royal blood, it would not be difficult to find a husband for her. I think there was talk at one time of betrothing her to the heir of Winterfell. She could… "

"No, no," Aegon cut her off sharply, "Jaehaera will be my wife, my queen."

Alyssa raises her eyebrows, amazed at the possessive, frightened tone she detects in Aegon's voice, "I just thought that…"

“Our feelings are not in question, mother. At least not mine,” he assures her, “It's just that meeting again has cost us a little more than I thought”

Alyssa nods and doesn't answer because suddenly the hooves of a horse hurtling through the castle gate catches her attention. Aegon averts his gaze from the princess, his eyes focusing on Jaehaera, who skillfully climbs down from the animal and adjusts her riding clothes.

The girl seems to sense their scrutiny because her gaze lifts to them, a half smile appearing on her face at the sight of Alyssa.

"Aunt!" she greets a moment later, after almost running to where they were, “What are you doing here? Alys said you should rest. You shouldn't have let her come up here, it could be dangerous,” her last sentence directed at Aegon, an impatient expression on her face as she crosses her arms.

"I didn't know she would get out of bed, I thought she was resting"

"How was your flight?" Alyssa interrupts when she notices that her niece wants to answer

“You know me, I'm always happy when I ride my dragon,” she replies with a genuine smile and Alyssa is amazed, once again, at how beautiful her little girl has become. Her eyes, as blue and long as her mother's, yet her face a feminine version of her father's, "I wasn't far from Dragonstone today."

“Sweetheart, try not to stray too far from the castle next time, it worries me in this weather…”

“No, auntie, please don't start scolding me,” she asks pouting and taking Alyssa’s hands, “Flying is my only refuge these days. I can't be embroidering and reading forever, and not all of us have obligations as noble and important as running a kingdom to keep our days busy."

“I never expressed myself that way,” Aegon replies, sighing.

“I'll go take a bath, I reek of dragon,” Jaehaera says, clearly ignoring him, “I'll see you at lunch.”

The girl kisses her aunt and quickly walks away from them.

***

"I'm frankly worried about those two"

Alyssa is sitting, like every night, on the windowsill. The sea breeze is her best ally now that labor is so close and her body seems to burn from the inside.

"We have to give them time"

Aemond, sitting across from her, strokes her belly gently.

"They don't seem to get along"

"Aegon is crazy about her," Aemond smiles, "He just doesn't know how to approach her."

“And what about Jaehaera? She seems upset every time I see her with him. I will not urge her to do her duty if she is not in love with him."

"Neither would I," her husband assures her, moving closer to Alyssa, "They deserve to know the joy of being married to someone they love, as we have known for almost fourteen years."

Alyssa smiles and reaches out to caress his face. Aemond closes his eye, and presses his face into her hand, a smile playing on his lips.

“It will be fine, being alone is going to force them to confront what they feel”

"Maybe, but..."

Alyssa stops talking as a sharp pain shoots up in her belly. Releasing a gasp of astonishment, she takes her hand to her lower back, trying to massage the area, but another pain as intense as the previous one seizes her again.

"Are you okay?"

“I think… I think you should call Alys. The baby is coming," she replies as she feels a liquid drip between her legs.

There is a moment of absolute silence between the two of them, who only look at each other, half surprised and nervous, before Aemond stands up and calls for the healer.

"Yes, the baby is coming," Alys pronounces a few minutes later, "It won't take long now, princess."

Alyssa clings to Aemond's arm to try to walk, too sore to just lie in bed. Her sweat drenches her nightgown and her messy hair falls down her back and clumps to her face, making her remember the scene so many years ago in Dragonstone, when she was assisting her mother during her labors.

"Is it true? Is the baby to be born tonight?"

Jaehaera is the first to enter the room, still dressed in her dinner clothes. Aegon enters after her a few seconds later.

"Mother, are you okay? They said that…"

He trails off as he watches Alyssa panting, one hand on her belly and one on Aemond's arm.

“Everything is fine,” it is Aemond who answers

“I wish to stay,” Jaehaera says, “I can help.”

“How would you help? You wouldn't know what to do,” Aegon replies.

“I am a woman, we know about these issues by instinct”

Aegon chuckles, “You're not even married, you'd be more of a nuisance. Come, let Alys and her midwives take care of it."

"No, I'll stay," and adds, "You're not the king yet, you don't have any authority over me."

"Enough!" Alyssa almost growls, “Jaehaera, my love, maybe it wouldn't do for you to stay. Births are not always easy. Aegon, take your sister outside and wait there. We'll call you once the baby is born."

Fortunately, they don't protest and leave the room. When they are alone again, Alyssa looks up at Aemond, with an I told you so look on her face, “See now what I mean?”

“It's just banter,” the prince replies, “They'll figure it out.”

"You'd better go to bed, princess," Alys urges her

And she's right because, a few minutes later, Alyssa is in more pain than she's ever known in her life before complete relief and hearing the most beautiful sound she could imagine, her baby crying.

“A girl,” Alys says, picking up a newborn who won't stop screaming and moving her arms and legs.

"Is she healthy?" asks Alyssa

"Is Alyssa alright?" asks Aemond in turn

“They are both very well,” Alys nods, handing the baby into the arms of the princess, who receives her too carefully, her hands slippery with her sweat and blood. The baby stops crying when she feels the contact with her mother’s skin, her eyes remaining open enough to notice her green eyes.

A sound of adoration escapes her throat before tears of happiness roll down her face, her fingers caressing the soft skin of her little girl. Alyssa raises her face to Aemond, who looks enthralled at the little girl, his face serious, but his eye denoting all the emotion he feels.

“Daena,” he whispers close to Alyssa's ear.

“Daena,” the princess confirms, repeating the name they had decided to give her baby just a few days ago, in case it was a girl.

"She is beautiful," Aemond sighs, "She is perfect, just like you."

Alyssa smiles and kisses the little girl's cheek before handing her over to one of her midwives to wash and wrap her up.

Aemond, unable to take his eye off the baby, waits impatiently until the little one is ready and receives her in his arms, cradling her as Alys helps his wife to her feet so the maids can change the bloodied sheets.

“You did a great job, princess,” the woman finally says, “You should rest now.”

“Thank you, Alys, for everything”

The healer nods and leaves the room with the midwives.

“I still can't believe it's real,” Alyssa comments as she feels Aemond sit next to her on the bed.

“She's our miracle baby,” Aemond says, stroking the baby's silver hair with his fingers, “Thank you, my love, you couldn't have given me a better gift.”

“I feel the same to you,” Alyssa replies, kissing her baby, feeling filled of love and adoration.

The noise of a couple of voices starting to get excited outside the door reach them, so they look at each other and sigh.

“I just hope she's not as a handful as that pair,” Aemond says, half amusement and half seriousness in his voice.

“Well, it will be many years before we get to know that,” Alyssa replies, “Now go, let them get in here before they kill each other. I want them to meet their sister."

Aemond places a soft kiss on both of their foreheads before opening the door and allowing the two kids to enter.

"Oh! She is adorable!" Jaehaera carefully climbs onto the bed, moving closer to Alyssa.

"Congratulations, mother," Aegon smiles as he watches the baby, "and you, father, of course."

Aemond smiles at Aegon and places his hand on his shoulder, patting it, “This is Daena. Your sister"

“Daena,” they almost chant, though Jaehaera smiles, “A beautiful name. I like it"

“I think so too,” Aegon turns away from the prince and stands behind Jaehaera, “I'll take good care of you, little Daena. And I will take you to explore the realm in Stormcloud’s back”

“Yes, but she will ride Morghul first,” Jaehaera replies.

"No, her first ride will be on the king's mount," Aegon looks at her with a smirk.

Jaehaera rolls her eyes, "My dragon is faster."

Aemond clears his throat, "Her first flight will be with her father, and Vhagar."

Alyssa sighs. She had agreed to fly to Dragonstone as it was faster and safer than crossing the sea during the storms they were experiencing. Besides, it was Aemond's dream to fly with his baby like his grandmother had done with his father, and she was not going to take away that illusion.

“You're right,” Jaehaera asserts, a blush rising on her cheeks, embarrassed, “I'm sorry, we're arguing like fools at this happy time. Can I hold her?”

"Of course," Alyssa places the baby carefully in her arms, "Be careful with her head”

“Hi Daena,” Jaehaera says, standing up and cradling her, her nose delighting in the baby scent emanating from her little sister, “I can't wait to have one of my own.”

Alyssa sees that Aemond frowns and wants to comment on his niece's words, so she takes his hand and shakes his head before pointing to Aegon, who has once approached Jaehaera and looks at her, entranced. Jaehaera, feeling her eyes, looks at him and smiles back, pulling Daena closer to the future king.

“You were right,” Alyssa says quietly when her husband returns to her side, “I think they'll figure it out on their own”

“Everything will be fine, my love.” Aemond hugs her and turns his gaze to her daughter. Alyssa rests her head on his shoulder and sighs, filled with relief and happiness to see her family reunited once more.

Yes, everything would be fine.

Because it had been for her and Aemond, and it would be for Jaehaera and Aegon.

And for Daena.

Everything would be just fine.

I have received such support from you guys this past few days!! Thank you so much for reading and giving me your impressions of my story <3

#aemond kinslayer #prince aemond #sinful desires #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond one eye #aemond x original female character #aemond fic #ao3fic #sinfuldesires #angst #drama

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obwjam · 10 months

Note

GIANT TRENT CRIMM!!!!! IVE SEEN NO GIANT TRENT CONTENT WHAT ARE UR THOUGHTS ON HIM PLS

this has been sitting in my inbox for a while so let me make that up to you with a FICLET (inspired by convos with @rockification and @snack-at-midnight) in which trent discovers a borrower and is so enamored that he just HAS to tell ted

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You were exhausted.

Your entire day was spent begging, pleading with the giant who had caught you mere days ago not to reveal your existence to anyone else. You knew who he was -- reporter-turned-author Trent Crimm, formerly of The Independent, now just independent. You spent your days traversing the vast AFC Richmond training facility, finding new places to hide and explore just about every day.

You just didn't count on someone finding you.

"It's alright, little one," Trent reassured you for the millionth time. You cringed at the nickname he used for you. It was so... dehumanizing. "Ted is a wonderful man, he won't hurt you."

You rolled your eyes. "I know he won't hurt me."

"Then might I ask what the problem is?" Despite how icky it made him feel, Trent knew he could use his size to his advantage. The two of you sat at his desk right next door to the coaches office, alone inside the facility at nearly 1 a.m. The writer leaned over you slightly, his shadow casting a long, dark shape that engulfed your form. You looked up with wide eyes and gulped.

"I... I just..." you started, unsure of how sassy you wanted to get. He could do anything to you. "I'm not very... keen on being discovered by an entire football club."

Trent felt a pang in his stomach. He really was sympathetic to your situation, but even if he didn't work in journalism anymore, he was still a journalist at heart, which meant that a secret like the existence of tiny people just couldn't stay a secret.

"You're lucky. There was a time I'd have reported your existence to the entire world," Trent remarked, subtly hoping that it would somehow make you feel better. "Besides, it's not the entire football club. It's just Ted." Trent thought for a moment. "And maybe Beard."

"Wow, lucky me," you snapped, not really thinking.

Trent pursed his lips and sighed. This snappy version of you was a far cry from the tiny he had discovered in his office around this time of night just a few days ago.

"Oh, my... what on earth...?"

You froze. You knew you lived in a place where the team was in and out at unorthodox hours, but you could read a clock. It was 2 a.m. Who was actually here at 2 a.m.?

Oh, right. The guy whose desk you were raiding supplies from.

Trent was speechless. Standing on his desk, clutching a paper clip like their life depended on it, was a human, no more than a few inches tall. As strange as it all was, as a journalist, he had heard it all. Phone calls and emails and messages from all sorts of people, ranging from good-mannered readers to straight-up nutcases... several of whom once tried to warn him of the existence of "imps" that would soon take over the world. What that had to do with him, a sports reporter, never made sense to Trent, but it's the first thing that popped into his mind.

You couldn't move. Why is he here? was the only thing going through your mind. This wasn't real. It was just another nightmare. You'd wake up any moment now...

Slowly, Trent leaned down. Nope, this was all very real. His salt-and-pepper hair spilled over his shoulders as his face grew closer to your trembling form, trying to find the words. I'm about to be the very first person to make contact with a tiny lifeform, he thought, not stopping to think that this might not be the first time.

"Hello, little one," he managed to say, quieter than he thought he was capable of. "I hope you'll excuse my surprise, I'm... well, I didn't expect to be seeing any tiny people on my desk tonight."

You just stared at him. What were you supposed to say?

"I'm Trent Crimm. What's..." he started before noticing just how scared you were. He had to adjust his plans. "You can tell me your name later, if you'd like." He cautiously took a seat, enamored at the way you gaped at his movements. "Is it alright if I ask you some questions?"

At this point, Trent knew just about everything he could ever want to know about you. He had this way of making you feel safe and drawing you in...

"I'm sorry, (y/n), I just -- if you were me, do you really think you could keep this a secret? You -- your existence -- it's quite remarkable, really."

You opened your mouth to reply, but Trent continued.

"You told me you've observed every single person who's ever walked through this clubhouse. Right?"

You nodded.

"So by now, you must have seen Ted, and how... gentle he is with others."

Another nod, though this one tentative.

"Then believe me when I say that me -- Ted -- we would keep you safe," Trent said, fumbling his words a bit. "I know you're nervous, but I promise, I'd never do anything to hurt you. At all."

You felt yourself blush. You were really starting to believe him.

"Why..." you began, checking to see how Trent would react to you speaking. He looked at you warmly, eager to hear what you had to say. "Why do you need to tell anyone at all?"

Trent sighed, leaning back in his chair, and took a moment to think. "Truthfully? I just can't contain my excitement," he said, shrugging. A small smile spread across his face. "If I can't tell the world, then... I suppose it's alright to tell just one person. Right?"

Your eyes darted to the tabletop, unsure of how to process this. On the one hand, you were a person, and it was unfair to dismiss your feelings. On the other hand, though... meeting Ted didn't seem like such a bad idea. He seemed like a good ally to have. And you had to admit, it was kind of flattering that Trent was so enamored with you. At the very least, he did ask if it was okay for him to introduce you to Ted... even if he was quite forward about it.

"Look... I understand the way you feel, I--I think. It's just... I don't think I'm ready yet -- to meet another person," you clarified. You stole a glance at Trent, who was taking it all in. You clenched your teeth under the weight of his stare. He's so big. "Maybe one day, when I... get used to being around you."

Trent's expression brightened. "Being around me, eh?"

Your face got hot. "Yeah. I don't think I could get rid of you now, even if I tried."

Trent laughed. "I suppose you're right." He cautiously put his elbow down on the desk, cupping his chin in his hand. The more he stared at you, the more he felt an intense desire to protect you and keep you safe from the madhouse of AFC Richmond. He was fascinated by your entire existence -- your life, your upbringing, your culture, everything. The dichotomy of the way you would nervously eye his hand and his movements, yet traverse the terrain that towered over you like an expert outdoorsman, was enamoring. It was an entirely new race of people to learn more about, and there was nothing Trent loved more than learning about people.

And telling stories.

"You know, I've asked you an awful lot of questions about yourself. Is there anything you'd like to ask me?"

You perked up. "Actually, I do. A lot of things. Starting with that device you stare at all day."

"The laptop?" Trent questioned, pointing to his closed Macbook.

You shook your head. "No. The smaller one. The rectangle."

Trent stifled a laugh. "You mean my phone?"

"Don't laugh," you chided. "How does it work?"

Now Trent was really smiling. Things as everyday and mundane as his phone were like a wonder to you, and to Trent, that was just downright adorable.

“Well, why don’t I just show you?” he said playfully, pulling his phone from his pocket with a twinkle in his eye. He stretched his arms out and held his phone upright, not even needing to touch the screen for it to flicker to life.

Trent felt a warmth fill his chest when he saw your eyes light up with the screen. He would tell Ted about you eventually, but right now, he was happy to have you all to himself.

#sorry he’s so soft after he gets fired LOL #like such a dork #i didnt feel like angst today but him discovering a tiny when he’s still a reporter…#that’s a story for another day #for now i would like to imagine him being fatherly toward a scared tiny thanks!#obwrites #ted lasso g/t #asks

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hils79 · 11 months

Text

Hils Watches The King's Avatar - Ep 40

It doesn't feel like 5 minutes ago that I started this drama. It's so very bingeable.

It's been a real journey. None of this has been what I expected beyond the very basic concept of 'it's a drama about esports'. There have been so many wonderful surprises. There are characters that I hated that I now love, characters that I loved that I now love even more, and more ships than I ever expected to ship.

While I'm at it I want to say a heartfelt thank you to everyone who has popped up in the replies to my posts or in my asks to either answer my questions or just yell about their favourite characters. I can tell this drama (and the novel and donghua) are so well loved and liveblogging this has really felt like a community experience. Thank you for not laughing at all the stuff I got wrong and for not making fun of me for shipping everyone. It's really been so wonderful and I almost don't want to press play on the final episode because I don't want it to be over.

But I need to see what happens so let's go!

Ah, okay. I misunderstood what happened at the end of the last episode. I thought they'd lost the game but no they could still win they just didn't have enough points to win the championship.

Is there going to be some loophole like the whole 'oh the ref's watch broke so actually you won'

HAHA! I fucking knew it! They got an extra two points for beating a league record. Because apparently that is a rule that has never been mentioned until now.

Eh, whatever. There was a nice moment with the fans before the found out they'd won

Ye Xiu finally gets the hug that he's needed since episode 1

Good lord how is there 30 minutes left? What's going to happen now that they've won?

God I hope Sun Xiang punches him

Except of course he won't because he's all grown up now. Also, typically it's the coaches/managers that get fired when a team does badly. I hope he gets booted

Love Shaotian dragging Wenzhou to his feet so he can cheer

Remember when their entire fanbase was just this guy. I'm definitely not crying at all

Look at that little half smile. He's grown so much considering they only lost on a technicality. I do think he's at least a little bit happy for Ye Xiu as the better player (for now)

GDI I can't believe I'm crying over Sun Xiang AGAIN

LOL remember when I thought he was going to be the antagonist of the drama when I watched the first episode. How wrong I was

Haha yes let's have a little joke about the time when I nearly banned you for life in the middle of an important game and caused your team to lose as a result

I have in no way been thinking about writing some King's Avatar fic with one based on the fact that Ye Xiu passes out after one drink

HAHA! Mo Fan pretended to pass out too so he doesn't have to talk to anyone. He is such a mood

Oh shit! I did not see that coming!

Oh no he looks so sad to see his former team like this, and it's understandable. He built that team from the ground up and put so much time and work into making them the legends they were

Yes, good. Baozi is cuddling one of his boyfriends as he should

Ah, yay, I'd forgotten about the team graphic. Time to add one more person right before the end

And finished! That was wonderful! Definitely in my top 5 dramas that I've watched this year. Might even be the number one, actually. I definitely should have watched that years ago when people first told me to give it a try. But, you know, I firmly believe you find things when you were meant to find them. Now was good.

I'll be starting a new drama tomorrow. If you were just here for my King's Avatar posts it's been lovely to have you. If you're sticking around for other liveblogs I'll see you tomorrow for more yelling :D

#hils watches #hils watches the king's avatar #hils watches cdramas #the king's avatar #cdrama

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chidoroki · 9 months

Text

182 Days of TPN - Day 168

Chapter 168: "Dad"

I know this is the same room Isabella & Peter were seen having their discussion in back during ch165, but to just have two plain chairs in such a large, empty room seems so extra. Regardless of that, I do like the panel of the trio here, even though they're surprised to find no one here due to the fake footage Peter fooled Vincent with that lead them there.

Dunno how all the kiddos are hearing Peter's message since the teams seem to only have one person with a communication device but whatever. Perhaps he's speaking loud enough for everyone to hear.

Although I have a hard time believing the Ratri men were able to tie up the Adam clones without a fight, I guess anyone will yield once you hold them at gunpoint. Also, the absence of Hayato in this panel is a nice hint to his role next chapter.

While the demon guards don't cause much of a problem during the rest of the story, it still would've been better if the kids killed them off instead of put them to sleep. I get that they didn't wanna kill if they didn't have to, but it would've been one less thing to worry about. Hearing about Sonju & Mujika's execution definitely adds to the stress. Not as much as their deaths could have, but we're thankful Peter was stupid enough to actually wait three days.

Along with all the citizens who drank the evil blood being killed, the Ratri clan and the higher-up demons taking control of the government, let's add the plan to assemble a ton of new Lambda farm into the mix as well. Talk about a big time panic. The premium farms don't sound so bad now huh?

Oh Vincent, you dunno these kids as well as you thought if you honestly believe they would shoot the adults in front of them. Emma, Ray, Don & Gillian couldn't manage to fire a shot at Andrew back when he held Dominic & Alicia hostage after the shelter raid. You're best bet would've been Oliver. This goes back to that old post of mine wondering who, among the kids, would be able to shoot at another human, but I still believe Ray could manage it, if only as a last resort.

The thought of Norman firing at another person was always a toss up for me though. Of course he showed no mercy towards demons during this WM phase, so even with the clear difference between demon and human, I wouldn't have been completely surprised if that cold persona of his came back with a vengeance once he heard Vincent get shot. Peter's been a thorn in Norman side ever since Lambda, so having this bastard personally hurt one of his friends just adds fuel to the fire. Norman (& Ray) did often mention taking down Isabella & Krone back during their GF days if they wanted to escape successfully, so they have level of brutality, it's just been real lowkey. Thankfully none of the children need to get blood on their hands. They've suffered enough already.

Please never say those words with your mouth. No one in this world considers you as that.

Hell yeah Oliver, let him know what's up!! I love that he, Zack & Gillian feel so strongly about the word "dad" because of the relationship they had with Lucas. The same can be said about Ayshe & her father but I can ramble more about all that next chapter.

Favorite panel/moment:

If you've been around me for a while, then you already know how damn hilarious this panel of Norman is to me.

I mean, in context, it's pretty serious, but thanks to a silly edit I've made years ago, I can't look at this panel anymore and not laugh like an idiot. So, now's the perfect time to upgrade it from a noticeable bad edit I made in the car on my phone once upon a time to something more worthy to use every time I lose my mind.

#the promised neverland #tpn manga #182daysoftpn #chidoroki used chatter

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chloearit · 1 month

Text

// discussion of csa and other potentially distressing things

One day I'd found myself alone with nothing to do. I noticed my father's old piano, off in the corner of the living room. It hadn't been used in well over a year, not since I played for him when I turned 14 shortly before his death.

I pulled it out of the corner and sat down in front of it. Started pressing some keys. Memories flashed through my mind. I started playing. After a couple failed starts I managed to play one of the pieces I'd learned almost without error. Then another. Then I just started playing freely.

I almost didn't notice when Nikita walked in the room.

I trailed off and turned to them.

They looked surprised. "You play? ... It sounds good."

"Just messing around... my father made me learn it."

They smiled and walked up to me. "You just keep revealing new skills I never knew you had."

"I didn't get to do much as a kid other than study."

Nika pressed a key. Then a couple more.

I joined in. "Father would make me play for him." I scoffed. "Not to make things weird..."

"Don't ever worry about making things weird," they muttered, tapping away at the keys.

"He made me undress, and then play. I think he got off to it."

"People get off to all kinds of weird things."

That made me pause. I stayed their hands. "How do you know that?"

"Long story." They returned to pressing keys.

"You should get a chair." I looked around the room.

They nodded, and quickly left to get one from another room.

For a moment, there was silence again. I felt Father's hands on my body.

The sound of a chair being pulled up next to me got me out of it. I made room and looked Nikita up and down as they sat.

"Do you know how to play?"

"No," they answered with a smile.

"I'll teach you."

I showed them some chords to play. They learned quickly. After a couple of repetitions, they started speaking while continuing to practice: "I had to find ways to make money after I got away from my parents. You meet a lot of weird people like that, and you hear stories. Obviously I got a lot of the creepier weirdos, but there's a lot of people who are just freaks."

"Like who?"

"One guy I heard of apparently makes his 'partners' play out elaborate death scenes with him. He comes every time without ever once touching himself. And then he just leaves. He's not a pedo though, just a freak, so I've never met him."

"He... acts out killing his partners?"

"No, no, he has them act out killing him."

"Huh."

"I kinda get it though, to be honest."

"What?"

"Have you never thought about what it would be like to get killed?"

I didn't respond. Of course I had, but... "Not like that."

They laughed. "You're so straightlaced."

"I don't think that's a word anyone's ever used to describe me."

"You're not a freak."

"You don't know that."

"What's your secret, then?"

"Huh?" I looked around the room, and paused. "Is anyone else here?"

"For real?" They smiled. "Just you and me."

I took a deep breath. "I get these intrusive... experiences sometimes. I don't know what to call them."

"Flashbacks?"

"No. They're not things that ever actually happened to me. Not like that." I shook my head.

"Fantasies?"

"Weird ones. Scenes of being... raped. Being a little kid and having horrible things done to me. And. I don't know... sometimes they don't feel all that bad? They feel almost nice. I don't... like it but I do... I do get off on it... is that... wrong?"

"Well, if it is, we're both marked for damnation."

"Huh?"

"Lu. You literally kill people for a living. I think that's more morally questionable than whatever you're worried about."

"But, I- I do it because-"

"Because of what they do, right? What they did to you, to me, to other children."

"Yes."

"Not because of whatever odd fantasies they might have. Because of what they chose to do."

"But what if I become like them-"

"You're stronger than that. That's what makes you different from them. You don't just give into your base urges. You care too much to ever hurt someone who's innocent."

"You don't know that."

"Using someone like that is an extremely callous, selfish thing to do. Every normal human recoils at the thought. That's why you're so ashamed of it. That's good. But you're not a bad person if you allow yourself to stop worrying so much about it. There's a big difference between an impure thought and an evil action. I think most people are very aware of where that line is, and they will never cross it, no matter how much they like to indulge in the fantasy. I've known you for a while now, believe me when I tell you, I don't think you would ever cross that line. But if you need my help to feel more secure, I'll help you with that."

"I think I'd appreciate that."

"It's your actions that define if you're a good person or not, and the impact you have on the world. You've helped a lot of people lead better lives. You're a good person, Lúcia."

// by Lúcia and Chloe

#fiction #microfiction #empty spaces #Lúcia #Chloe #Lúcia Cuervo #Nikita #Philia universe

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mute-call · 6 months

Text

@nineliabilityrisk said: 11:38 PM. Another night shift for Steven. He's just getting settled in to his office for the night, checking to make sure everything is working as it should be, when he spots movement on the cameras. Not an animatronic, obviously, they don't move in plain sight of the cameras — not like this, at least. Someone else is here. It takes no time at all for them to get close to the office – someone familiar with the building? – and Steven is likely about to call someone, or turn to confront them, or whatever protocol is when it comes to intruders — when there's a light rap of knuckles against the metal frame of the right door and Mike's face appears in the dim light of the office. "Hey, Steve. Sorry 'f I startled you – really didn't mean to – and I know I'm not s'posed to be here tonight, but I also know they gave you a double shift—" Steven had spent most of the day keeping an eye on the patrons and had gotten six hours, at most, before he needed to be back to guard the place— "and I was in the area." His eyes dart to the side, face flushes slightly ... a blatant lie. He was probably nowhere near here. He very much went out of his way to do this. "So. Y'know. I brought you coffee." Sure enough, he steps inside, and he has two to-go cups of coffee precariously balanced in one hand, one he keeps turned towards himself and the other he offers out to Steven. He knows how tired the man must be, and he also knows, better than any, that falling asleep in this office would be a death sentence. So sue him, he ... doesn't want that to happen. Not to Steven. After falling silent for a moment, letting Steven take his coffee and helping make sure nothing spills, he seemingly finds the courage to speak up again. "I... Know I really shouldn't be here. I can go, lock up behind me, if you want. But — if you want the company ... I can stay. I promise you won't have to worry about me. I've spent my fair share of time here. One more night won't hurt."

"J-Jesus, Mike, you scared me! Heh. I thought you were an intruder." Which would be worse news for the intruder than for Steven, admittedly, considering what time it is, but still-- juggling police calls and real, human threats sounds a hell of a lot more stressful than the familiar, manageable dangers of the animatronics.

Or maybe he's just so tired that the thought of anything unexpected happening tonight has immediately set him on-edge.

"You--? ...oh, uh, wow, that's--" that's really quite kind.

"Come on, you didn't have to do that. You know I keep myself well-caffeinated here." Steven smiles and picks up his cup of soda from the desk, giving it a slosh or two to demonstrate. He doesn't mean to sound ungrateful-- on the contrary, he's deeply touched by this surprise visit-- but part of him can't help but wonder what in the world Michael's doing here. This isn't like swinging by a friend's place to drop something off; this is Freddy's. At night. Mike definitely knows better.

...which means that it's all the more considerate of him to have come by at all. It's such a big gesture, or at least it feels that way, that Steven isn't entirely sure how to react.

"...thank you." That's a good start.

The coffee has a sharp, pleasant aroma that makes Bell feel more alert even before he's started drinking it. Much better than soda. Taking the cup and cradling it in his hands, Steven basks in its warmth for a moment before looking back up at Michael, shocked again.

"Are you serious?" Company sounds... amazing. Bell is fond of the animatronics, but they're not exactly the best conversationalists at night. Getting to kill time on a night shift with an actual human being (and Michael, of all people!) sounds like a dream come true.

"I-- no, I couldn't ask you to do that." What if something goes wrong? And even if it doesn't, what kind of man feels entitled enough to another person's time that he'd keep them locked in a room for six hours that could and should be spent on getting some much-needed rest?

On the other hand, Michael came all this way. For him. This doesn't feel like an offer made from hollow cordiality.

"But... it's, uh, getting pretty close to midnight." Steven doesn't meet the other man's eyes. "Maybe staying here is safer than trying to head out?" That's the closest he'll come to saying yes, please, I'd love for you to stay.

He hopes the message comes through.

#nineliabilityrisk 2 #nineliabilityrisk #v; main #rp #mutecall

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karahalloway · 2 years

Text

Sleepless in New York: Chapter 7 - Take My Breath

Series: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Synopsis: What if Drake met Harper on the first night of Prince Christian’s New York bachelor party? A stand-alone AU written from Drake's POV.

Masterlist: Sleepless in New York

Chapter Summary: Harper and Drake arrive back at Harper's apartment... where more than one surprise awaits Drake.

Word Count: 5,800

Rating/Warnings: E (swearing, angst, Drake massively overthinking, lemons(?))

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: Sorry this took so long to get out! Real life has been unexpected busy (even though I'd been hoping it would calm down lol) and this chapter ended up being quite a beast to wrangle into shape (I think I rewrote most parts of it like 6 times... 😅). But hopefully the contents will make up for the wait!

A/N2: I am participating in @fictober-event's Fictober 2022 event, and I (belatedly) used the Day 21 prompt: "I never said that" (which appears in bold within the text).

A/N3: I tagged this installment on the basis of my updated Tag List (which I will be posting tomorrow). If you were not tagged, and would like to be, let me know!

Chapter 7 - Take My Breath

"My... my jacket?" I blabber stupidly, hand frozen half-way to my ear like a moron... which, at this moment, I completely am.

Because my mind’s spinning from the bombshell invitation that she just dropped on me...

...and the potential implications.

"Yeah," she confirms with infinite patience. "The one you lent me last night."

"I wasn't expecting it back," I mutter while desperately searching her face, her eyes, her body language for any kind of clue as to what her true motivations actually are.

Because if she means what I think she means then—

"I know," she shrugs. "But it's yours. So, it's not right for me to keep it. Especially since you're leaving tomorrow."

I kick myself as she turns away to pad back towards the main road.

I'm such an idiot...

Her words confirm that which I should've known all along — that the invitation is completely platonic. And that it’s my own dumbass fault for trying to read something into the situation that isn’t even on the table.

At least not anymore.

Because whatever mood we managed to spark tonight got left in that damn elevator when I high-tailed us outta there.

And now it’s too late to get it back.

Because I ended up hurting her.

And despite the fact that she forgave me for the incident, there’s no way she'll want to take things further.

Not tonight, anyway...

...even though tonight’s all we have left.

I raise my gaze beseechingly to the heavens.

Why didn't I just go for Korean BBQ last night...? Then I never would've met her, she never would've gotten fired, and I wouldn't be feeling like—

"NYC Yellow Cab Company. Where are you going this evening?"

The sound of the operator's voice jars me from my thoughts. "Yeah. Um... I'd like to order a cab to..."

I trail off, realising that I actually have no idea where we are.

I cast my eyes around, trying to find a street sign, or an obvious landmark. But apart from the inky waters of the Hudson behind me and the yellow glow of the streetlamps along the sidewalk, I see nothing.

"Err... hold on a sec, will—"

The sharp sound of a whistle rends the air.

Throwing my head around, I spot Gale leaning out into the road with her arm in the air.

"...actually, never mind," I say, hanging up as a cab pulls up obediently next to us.

"One New York taxi," declares Gale triumphantly as she steps in front of me to yank the passenger door open.

Dropping my phone back in my pocket, I throw her a sidelong glance. "Thought you said cabs are a waste of time and money."

She shrugs back at me. "They are. But you were going to call one anyway, so I thought I'd save you the trouble... and the overpriced roaming bill."

I shake my head wryly. "And here I thought I was doin' you a favour."

"Who says the favour can't go both ways, cowboy?" she counters with a wink before climbing into the cab.

I stare at her ass painedly.

Now, why did she have to go and say something like that...?

Because despite the fact that she made it clear literally a minute ago that I shouldn't expect anything when we get back to hers, that one comment has kicked my dirty, sex-deprived imagination into overdrive again...

...and now all I can think about is eating her out while she goes down on me, 69-style.

"You coming, or what, pal?"

The driver's voice snaps me from my thoughts.

Swallowing a groan, I slide into the backseat — careful not to touch her, even accidentally, because then all bets are gonna get blown off — and pull the cab door closed with an agitated bang.

Sweet Jesus, I’m a horny mess...

I can’t seem to get through one conversation with this girl without my mind — and my dick — going wild with everything I want to do to her.

And that isn’t like me.

Sure. I've been turned on by girls before. Even been handcuffed, made to wait for gratification until I was literally sweating with need.

But never like this — outside of the bedroom, where the proverbial screw just kept getting pulled tighter and tighter without any assurance of release.

No. This is completely uncharted territory for me.

Because any other girl, any other situation, I'd've closed the deal by now. And moved on.

So, maybe that’s the problem — the fact that every time I seem to be getting somewhere, I end up getting cock-blocked with a meticulous precision that seems nothing short of premeditated.

By her asshole boss. By her infatuated coworker. By the cabbie. By Leo. By the pricks at the club.

Not to mention by myself. Because I keep saying and doing the wrong things. So, that fact that she’s still talking to me is basically a miracle.

And even though I somehow managed to salvage each and every fuck up — just — it hasn’t been enough.

Because I’m still sitting on square one.

But I've run outta time.

And that grates me no end.

Especially considering how narrowly I missed the end zone.

My head drops back against the head rest.

Christ, I need to fuck...

The adrenaline, the cortisol — not to mention the testosterone spliced with all the pent-up thirst — is still roiling through my veins, setting my teeth on edge, begging for release.

And while I completely respect Gale's decision to not want to take things further after everything she's been through tonight, I know I'll never be able to catch anything even remotely resembling sleep until I've blown off some steam.

And if it isn’t gonna happen with Gale — even though I want it to, desperately — I need to cut my losses and come up with a Plan B...

...though the idea of going back out again, to a noisy bar or club to scour the crowd for a potential hook-up is not appetising in the slightest. Especially since there’s no guarantee of a decent score.

Might just need to bite the bullet and steal a page out of Tariq's pathetic playbook by calling up a damned hooker.

I clench my eyes shut.

Sweet Jesus, I really must be desperate.

But as tantalising as the idea may seem at first blush, the thought of actually having sex with someone who is only in it for the money turns me off faster than flipping a kill switch.

I heave a resigned sigh.

Jacking off under a cold shower it is... Christ, this night can’t get any worse...

I feel the taxi slow.

Glancing out the window, I see that we've arrived on a residential street comprised of tightly packed multistorey brownstones.

"That'll be $24.56," declares the driver, putting the car into park.

"Thanks," acknowledges Gale, reaching for her clutch.

But I've already pulled my wallet out. "Keep the change," I tell him, handing over a ten and a twenty.

Gale's head snaps up. "Hey!"

"You want a receipt?" asks the cabbie, palming the money.

"Nope," I tell him, already halfway out the car.

The sooner we get this done, and the sooner I get gone, the better.

Flicking the door closed behind me, I walk quickly 'round to the other side of the cab to help Gale out.

Because even though I may not be getting laid tonight, I’m not gonna be an asshole about it. My parents had raised me better than that.

Gale greets me with a terse glare from the backseat. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I raise a brow. "Opening the door for you?"

"We agreed to share the fare!"

I heave a breath. Christ, not again... "No. We didn't."

"Yes. We did," she insists sternly, gathering her things. "Because I said—"

"I know what you said," I reply calmly, pulling the door wider. "But we never agreed."

Her mouth drops open in surprise. "But—"

"In fact," I continue, holding out a hand to help her out of the cab, "I specifically disagreed with your proposition. Because it's not right for you to fork out cash you don't have on a cab that you only need because of me."

"I have $12!" she hits back, ignoring my offer of assistance even as she struggles to climb out of the backseat with shoes, bag, and jacket in hand.

"No. You don't."

She freezes, half-in, half-out of the cab, staring at me in disbelief.

I meet her eye pointedly. "You lost your job, remember?"

"Yeah, but—"

"So, my point stands," I conclude, reaching out to steady her as she pushes herself up to stand. "You don't have $12 to spend on a cab. And since that's my fault, it's only right that I foot the fare."

She lets out a low breath. "Drake, you don't need t—"

"I do," I insist, shutting the cab door behind her. "Especially since I never finished apologising back at the club."

She flicks her gaze up with a coy smile. "We did get very rudely interrupted, didn't we?"

"Very," I agree, reaching up to brush her hair out of her face as the car pulls away. "So, it's only right that I make it up to you some other way."

Dammit, why can’t I keep my hands off her...?

Something flutters in her expression. "And that's very sweet of you. But I can't keep taking your money."

"Pretty sure it’s the cabbie who took my money..." I murmur softly.

She swings her Jimmy Choos at me. "You know what I mean!"

"Harper," I say firmly, letting the shoes ping harmlessly off my arm. "It's fine. Honestly. I'm not gonna begrudge twenty bucks — or even ten times that — if it helps you get home safe. After the way I gatecrashed your life, it's the least I can do."

She opens her mouth to protest.

I meet her gaze calmly, but steadfastly.

Her shoulders drop. "Okay, fine. But just so we're clear, this is the last time I'm letting you do this."

"Spend my own money?" I ask, quirking a brow.

"Blame yourself for what happened."

Her words pull me up short. "But—"

"You didn't gatecrash my life. If anything, you kinda did me a favour because I actually hated working at that bar," she admits. "The place was a dive, the hours were erratic, and Jovan was—"

"—a right piece of shit," I offer.

"I was going to say 'moody bastard', but sure," she grins. "The only reason I stuck it out for as long as I did was because the tips were relatively good and I was able to hit my monthly savings goal after I'd paid—"

"Savings goal?" I cut in. "What were you—?"

A blush colours her face. "It... It doesn't matter. Point is, I can get another job. And until I do, I have enough to cover the rent. So, it's not like you've ruined my life, or plunged me into debt, or homelessness..."

"Yeah, but—"

She lays a finger against my lips, silencing me. "I said it's fine... Really. You don't owe me anything, Drake. You never did."

I struggle for breath. "Har—"

"But I do owe you your jacket back," she reminds me, giving my nose a tap with her finger. "And you probably want to get back to your bachelor party. So, up and at 'em, cowboy."

The breath I didn't realise I’m holding explodes out of me as she turns away.

Fuck.

This girl really is try'na kill me.

Every time she gets up in my space like that, touches me like that, calls me cowboy like that, she pushes my self-control — and my sanity — right to the limit.

And at this rate, what little rein I have left on my composure is going to snap, and she’s gonna find herself on the receiving end of a very different kind of 'up and at 'em'... the kind where she’s up against the wall and I’m up and inside her.

I force myself to take a steadying breath as I follow after her.

Keep it together, Walker. As she made it clear — again — that's not the reason you're here. And unless she changes her mind, you can't overstep the mark.

She leads me to the squatter of two buildings on the block. Stopping in front of a narrow door that’s tucked next to the shuttered store front of a second-hand bookshop that occupies the ground floor, she reaches for the numerical access panel and taps the six digit code in.

The lock clicks back and I reach forward to push the door open.

"Thanks," she says with a smile, stepping through the opening.

"Anytime," I murmur, trying — and failing — to not breathe in her honey-camomile scent as she slides past me.

Dammit, why does she have to smell so good...?

"Hope you like cardio..."

I snap my head up just in time to catch the wry glance she throws me over her shoulder.

"...'cause it's a bit of a trek up to the fifth floor."

I let the door bang shut behind me with a sigh.

Yup. She’s definitely try'na kill me.

Because apparently it isn’t enough that I've already had to suffer through a burlesque routine and a sexually charged turn on the dancefloor that had basically been foreplay.

She’s now going to make me stare at her ass while we climb five flights for stairs.

Fuck my fuckin' life...

But, short of walking out on her like a high-strung douchebag, I don’t really have a choice.

Unless...

"Up and at 'em, Gale!" I prompt as I dart past her.

Her mouth drops. "Wha—?"

"Thought you want to be quick about this," I say, pausing on the landing to look back down at her.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I want to race you up the stairs!"

I raise a brow. "Who said anything 'bout a race?"

"You did. Just now."

I lean over the banister. "I just offered to up the pace. But if you aren't up for it—"

Her eyes narrow. "I never said that..."

"Then I'll see you at the top," I shrug, resuming my jog up the stairs.

Even if she ends up trailing behind, at least I’ll have had a chance to blow off some much needed steam before we get to her apartment.

"Bet your ass you will, Walker!" she shouts, blowing past me as she takes the steps three at a time.

I snort despite myself, throwing myself into a sprint to catch up to her.

This girl...

She keeps managing to surprise me.

I hadn't intended for this to turn into a head-to-head. But apparently she has a mean competitive streak and can’t resist another chance to try and show me up. Even when she’s barefoot.

I catch up to her on the next level.

"Nice try, Gale," I chuckle, using the handrail to pull myself past her on the corner of the landing. "But you ain't winning this."

"Speak for yourself, Walker!" she cries, grabbing the back of my shirt to use me as a counterweight to propel herself into the lead again.

"You wanna play dirty, huh?" I huff, reaching out to grab her around the waist.

My fingers brush against her bare skin...

...but before I can close the hold, she's twisted away.

"Close, but no cigar!" she taunts with a smug look.

"Closer than you think," I grin, pulling past her through the opening she's unintentionally afforded me.

A shocked gasp rises up from behind me. "You bastard!"

"Don't dish it if you can't take it, girl!" I call as I round the final corner.

Pushing through the burn in my thighs, I bound up the steps, pausing at the top to catch my breath.

Doing that every day'll sure keep you fit! No wonder she has such great legs...

The sound of bare feet slapping against concrete echoes up the stairwell.

Glancing behind me, I spot Gale stomping up the steps with a murderous expression, her arms crossed over her chest.

"The fuck was that, Walker?" she demands angrily as she draws level with me.

"A fair win?"

"How the hell was that fair!"

"Hey," I say, holding my hands up. "I was just playin' by your rules, Gale... So, don't tell me you've got double standards."

"I didn't rip your shirt off!" she protests vehemently, aiming a kick at my shin.

I dodge out of the way...

...and suddenly realise why she’s so pissed when I see that her arms are still wrapped around her chest.

When I'd tried to grab her, my fingers must've accidentally pulled the tie of her shimmery crop top loose at the back. And now she’s desperately trying to keep the flimsy covering from falling off her body completely while holding onto everything else she’s carrying.

An inadvertent snort escapes me at the absurdity of the situation.

"Oh, yeah. Hilarious!" she snips sarcastically, shoving past me. "Jackass..."

Her comment hits me like a kick to the gut. Goddammit...

Of all the ways I've imagined undressing her — and there have been a lot of ways! — this was definitely not been one of them. By mistake... In the most asinine and juvenile way possible.

Because now she’s pissed at me.

Again.

"Gale, hold up," I plead, stepping after her. "I swear I didn't—"

"Save it, Walker," she snaps, arriving at a nondescript door marked with the number 502 and reaching for her bag without looking at me.

Shit. She really is fit to be tied.

"Look. You're right," I sigh. "It isn't funny. I shouldn't've laughed. It wasn't cool and— You okay?"

"I'm fine," she grits, struggling to open her clutch while keeping her top in some semblance of decency and juggling her shoes and jacket as well.

"You sure...?" I ask, unconvinced. "'Cause you look like y—"

Her hazel-green gaze snaps irately up to mine. "I said I'm—!"

As if on cue, the tenuous hold she has on her bag slips, taking the rest of her precariously balanced stuff with it to the floor in a heap.

She grabs after the lot instinctively...

...only to realise she's let go of her top.

"Shit!" she gasps, grasping the sparkly fabric after a moment of stunned indecision.

I slant her a deadpan look. "You were sayin'?"

"Just... shut up," she groans exasperatedly, managing to save her decency...

...but not quite quick enough.

My eyes widen. "Yes, ma'am," I affirm, quickly bending down to start picking everything up.

She heaves an aggravated breath. "Drake, I don't need—"

"I got it," I assure her, scooping her jacket and shoes before she can get to them. "You... you got more top-level problems to deal with."

I hear her suck in a shocked gasp, followed by the rustling of fabric on skin as she hastens to adjust the wayward scrap of material.

I keep my attention focused on rounding up the various items that have escaped her bag, and not on the dozen different ways I suddenly want to tease the nipple she accidentally flashed me before I remembered to look away.

I clench my eyes shut. Sweet Jesus, how am I gonna—?

I feel her fingers brush against mine. "Thanks..."

My eyes snap open to find her crouched in front of me with a wry, slightly embarrassed look.

"...for the save," she adds, not quite meeting my eye.

"An-anytime," I reply hoarsely, handing the now refilled clutch back to her. "And I'm sorry. About earlier. I hadn't planned on—"

The colour rises up her cheeks as she drops her gaze and takes the bag. "I know. And I'm sorry for flipping out on you. It's just... my brother Tyler used to pull stunts like that when we were younger and—"

"You still have a bad taste in your mouth about it," I finish for her. "I know."

She lifts her gaze to mine. "Sounds like you speak from experience..."

I nod tightly. "There are things my sister's probably not forgiven me for either."

"The joys of sibling-hood," she observes dryly, straightening back up to return her attention to the door.

"Yeah..." I mumble, feeling that all-too familiar emptiness settle in my gut as the ghost of Savs' face rises through the spectre of my memories.

The rattle of keys jars me from my thoughts.

Looking up, I see that Gale had located her keyring — adorned with a made-in-China, plastic Statue of Liberty — and is in the process of slotting a brass-coloured key into the lock. The tumbler clicks back and the door swings open.

I hang back on the threshold as she steps into the narrow entranceway to flick on the hallway light. The golden glow reveals the outlines of a small, open-plan kitchen-living area within.

"Do you want to—?" she asks, pausing on the threshold to look back at me.

I shake my head. "I'll wait here."

I don’t know that I can trust myself to behave if I follow her inside. And I don’t want to burn what little goodwill I probably have left with her.

She nods quickly. "Okay. Let me just grab your jacket and—"

"Don't forget these," I remind her, holding her own jacket and shoes out to her.

"Oh. Right. Thanks," she blushes again as she takes them. "I...I'll be back in a minute."

"Take your time," I murmur as she disappears into the flat.

On one hand, I’m desperate to get outta here while I still have some semblance of sanity left. But, on the other hand, I know that as soon as I turn away, and she shuts the door, that’s it. She’s out of my life.

For good.

And I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

But short of bringing her back to Cordonia with me, or ditching the return flight — neither of which is an option — I don’t really have a choice.

Because let's face it. I've known the girl less than a day. It’s irrational to want to—

"Sorry, it's a bit rumpled," she apologises as she reappears, blazer in hand, errant crop-top exchanged for a white, 'I ❤️ NY' t-shirt. "It fell off the hanger."

"Don't worry about it."

She holds the jacket out over the threshold. "Thanks again for lending it to me..."

I reach out to take it. "You don't need to thank me, girl..."

Her chest rises. "I do. Because—"

My fingers brush against hers. "I just did what anyone would've done."

Her hazel-green eyes meet mine. "No."

The intensity of her declaration knocks the air from my chest.

"You did the exact opposite of what anyone else would've done," she continues decidedly. "You went out of your way to help a total stranger. Not once, but several times. Without expecting anything in return. So, it's me who owes you, Drake; not the other way around..."

I shake my head. "Harper, you know you don't—"

"...and I've yet to properly thank you."

My head snaps up.

Our eyes lock.

Her mouth parts.

And the world falls away.

I have no idea who moves first. Me or her. Maybe it's mutual...

But the next thing I know, the damned blazer is tossed to the floor and we're at each other's throats, devouring each other like a pair of rabid animals.

Because we both suddenly realise that we've been fuckin' fools for letting ourselves get jackknifed by the very circumstances that keep propelling us together. For keeping our cards close to our chests when we should've been throwing them — and each other — down on the table.

Because we've been too distracted by all the auxiliary bullshit to realise that we've wanted the same thing from the very start.

Each other.

"Fuck, baby," I groan against her mouth. "You don't owe me anything..."

"But I—" She gasps as I grab her by the ass to yank her against me.

"How 'bout we call us even?" I growl, hoisting her up into the air.

A surprised squeak escapes her.

But I don't give her a chance to protest the matter because my mouth is already back on hers, wanting more, taking more, giving her no quarter as I march her back into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind me.

Because now that we've finally stumbled onto the same page, I’m taking control of the narrative. No more pussyfooting around... No more second guessing.

Because we've wasted too much goddamn time already and to say that I need her is an understatement. I yearn for her... Fuckin' burn for her with an intensity that’s borderline obsessive.

So, in what few hours I have left with her, I want one thing, and one thing only. To set her world on fire the same way she torched mine just by stepping into it.

My teeth scrape against hers as I shove my tongue down her throat, giving her a promise of what’s to come.

She moans into my mouth, and I nearly lose it right then and there.

Christ, she tastes good...!

She’s a heady mix of sweet and zest that’s straight up intoxicating. Like summer raspberries and honey wine. And I curse myself for not letting myself kiss her sooner.

The sound of ripping thread rends the air.

My eyes fly open.

"Now we're even," she declares with a smirk, sending the dislocated buttons flying as she throws the top of my shirt open.

I scoff at the irony as I carry her into the small kitchenette. "Thought you wanted to save this shirt."

"That was before you ripped my top," she counters saucily, raking her nails down my chest.

A low groan escapes me as I deposit her onto the countertop. "You're lucky I waited this long, girl. I've been wanting to tear that damn thing off you since the start of the night."

"Got something against my clothes, Walker?" she asks, tugging the shirttails out from the waistband of my pants.

"Yeah," I confirm, reaching for the hem of her t-shirt. "You're still wearing them."

She lifts her arms with a wry look. "That's kind of the point of clothes..."

"Trust me," I counter, pulling the top over her head and tossing it to the side. "You ain't gonna need them. Not for what I've got planned..."

"Oh, yeah?" she purrs, grabbing my belt. "And what's that, cowboy?"

"Knockin' your fuckin' boots off."

She cries out as I dive down to catch her now fully exposed nipple in my mouth, not able to wait a second longer to have her under my tongue.

I've of course gotten a sense of her thanks to that barely there crop top and skin-tight jeans she'd been wearing. So, I know that she’s slim yet toned, tending towards athletic instead of shapely, though still possessing some curvature to her bust and waist.

But clothes — no matter how revealing — are never gonna tell the full story. Which is why I've been dying to see — and feel — her as nature intended. Without any superfluities or accruements in the way.

And sweet Jesus, has it been worth the wait!

Because Gale naked — or as good as — exceeds even my wildest dreams. Her hips curve into the palms of my hands, her skin has that same enthralling scent as her hair, and while her breasts are on the smaller side, they are still perfectly soft and natural, with pert nipples that I already know I can get addicted to after just one taste.

And the way she’s responding to me? Christ, she’s gonna drive me straight to the edge just with the sounds she’s making as my hands coast over her body.

"Drake..." she moans, fingers tangling into my hair, pulling me closer as she wraps her legs around my waist.

I hear myself groan in abandon as she arches up towards me, tits thrusting up into my face, begging for more.

I heed her unspoken plea and switch my attentions to her other breast, sucking hard.

She gasps out loud, thrusting herself against me uninhibitedly. And if my giant hard-on isn’t already ready to bust a motherfuckin' hole through my pants, it sure as hell is about to now.

Because nothing’s hotter than a girl who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it.

And damn right I’m gonna give it to her.

My hands drop to the front of her jeans.

"Someone's... impatient," she gasps as I slide my tongue up her neck.

"Girl, you have no idea," I breathe, making quick work of the top button and fly. "You've been driving me to the edge of reason the whole night."

"Really?" she purrs. "I wouldn't have guessed..."

I lift my gaze sardonically as I secure a hold on the waistband of the denim. "Why d'you think I was downing shots like those things had an expiration date?"

"Performance anxiety?" she asks with a sly grin, raising her hips off the counter in anticipation.

"Never," I assure her, wrenching her jeans down.

"Drake!" she cries out in surprise.

I look up from between her legs. "You okay?"

She nods shakily. "Yeah. I... I just didn't expect you to do that..."

I quirk a brow as I manoeuvre the denim off her ankles, careful to avoid the blisters. "Undress you?"

She scoffs breathlessly. "Rip my jeans off."

I slant her a glance as I trail my hands back up the inside of her thighs. "You and I have very different definitions of 'rip', girl."

"Oh, yeah?" she pants, struggling with the remaining buttons of my shirt as my fingers skirt upwards, brushing over the lace of her thong to round her hips. "What's your definition?"

I hook my fingers into the elastic of her underwear. "The literal one."

I tear the flimsy scrap of lace off her in one forceful motion.

She jolts as she finds herself suddenly exposed before me. "I should've guessed..."

I meet her eye. "Tell me it didn't turn you on..."

She sucks in a shuddering breath as I drop to my knees in front of her. "Guess you're about to find out..."

"Damn fuckin' right," I confirm, wrenching her knees apart.

An impassioned cry is torn from her lips as my mouth collides with the slickness of her arousal. Her earthy sweetness engulfs my senses and I inhale deeply, losing myself in her sultry heat as I rake my tongue hungrily over her already throbbing clit.

Her body tips back in ecstasy, but I throw a hand out over her ass, keeping her lower half pinned in place so I can chart every inch of her.

She moans loudly, spreading her legs wider, pulling at my hair to try and guide me where she needs me most as she arcs up into my face.

My eyes shudder closed. Oh, sweet Jesus...!

If this isn’t the gateway to Heaven, I have no idea what is. Because very few things in life can top the addictive interplay between trust, submission, and eroticism that comes from pleasuring someone with your mouth until they fall apart in front of you.

And the feeling of finally being able to experience it with Gale...? Shit, it’s better than gettin' higher than a fucking kite.

Opening my eyes, I glance up at her.

She is panting above me, eyes closed, lips parted and head thrown back, raw bliss written all over her face as my mouth and tongue tug her inexorably towards complete implosion, her fingers fisted almost painfully into my hair.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

And I can see she’s close. So, I double down on my efforts with a low growl, tracing my tongue around her heated clit in ever-tightening circles as she starts to crest, moaning my name like a benediction.

"Oh, my God! Drake...!"

I feel the vibrations start before the inevitable noise...

...and my heart drops to the floor.

"Fuck..." I groan as the opening rift of Kenny Loggin's Danger Zone shatters the mood of the room.

Of all the million and one moments tonight, this is the one that gets fuckin' interrupted?

The sweet baby Jesus sure has a fucked up sense of humour...

Because this ringtone means one thing and one thing only — my night’s about to go to complete and utter shit.

But as much as I want to ignore the incoming call, I know I can’t.

I drop my head in defeat. "I'm sorry, baby... I... I gotta take this."

She whines in protest, reaching desperately for me as I pull away, as nettled by the sudden halt to the proceedings as I am... If not more so, considering that I’m leaving her in the lurch at the worst possible moment.

Like a fuckin' ass...

But unfortunately for both of us, the situation can’t be helped. Because there are some things in life that are more important than getting off.

Like the safety of a high-status foreign national...

...who also happens to be my best friend.

Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I reach resignedly for my phone, knowing that I’m not gonna like what I’m about to hear.

"Wh-who is it...?" stammers Gale hoarsely, face still flushed from the intensity of our disrupted foreplay.

"Bad news..." I mutter, answering the call without looking at the caller ID.

Because I already know who’s calling.

"Oui?" I ask, switching to French on autopilot.

Gale's eyes widen.

But I don't have time to mitigate her surprise, or provide an explanation, because Schweitzer is already barking down the phone at me.

"Vous voyez l'appât?" he demands without preamble.

I steel myself. "Non. Je—"

A low growl of frustration. "Putain de merde..."

"Attendez," I interject, forcing myself to stay calm, even though my gut’s already twisted itself tighter than barbed wire. "Que s'est-il passé?"

"Nous ne savons pas," he grits. "Une minute, nous avions une ligne de visée sur lui, mais la suivante, il a plus simplament disparu."

I frown. "Comment ça, 'disparu'?"

"Comme une fantôme!" Schweitzer — now bereft of all semblance of calm — shouts down the line.

"Non, non," I interject with a shake of my head, the rapidly building stress causing me to start pacing around the small flat. "C'est impossible. Même si nous ne pouvons pas le voir, nous pouvons toujours—"

"Nous avons perdu son signal!"

His words — and the blood-curdling implications — slam into me with all the force of a .50 cal round.

"FUCK!"

The story continues in Chapter 8 — Minutes to Midnight

A/N1: So, in the context of researching certain details for this chapter, I discovered that — in contrast to e.g. the whole of Europe — it is pretty much impossible to call a cab in New York using your phone, because there is no official NYC cab company phone number (or if there is, it's guarded with a CIA-level of secrecy 😅). Instead, if you need a cab, you go out onto the street and hail one (like Harper does). However, by the time I found this out, I'd already written the corresponding scene of Drake calling a cab on his phone both on this chapter (and in Chapter 2), so I decided to leave it in, because it helps with pacing, etc. Consequently, I instead offer my belated apologies to any New Yorkers reading this!

A/N2: As always, translations for the French:

Drake: Yes?

Schweitzer: Do you have eyes on the asset?

Drake: No, I—

Schweitzer: Fucking hell... (lit. trans. of 'putain de merde' is 'shitty whore' but connotatively it's used the same way as the way I've translated above)

Drake: Wait. What happened?

Schweitzer: We don't know. One minute, we had eyes on him, and the next, he just fucking* disappeared.

Drake: What do you mean, 'disappeared'?

Schweitzer: [I mean] like a fucking* ghost!

Drake: No... That's impossible. Even if we don't have a line of sight on him we can still— (I know I wrote 'no' twice in the French; it's a common form of emphasis)

Schweitzer: We lost his fucking* signal!

* So, as far as I've been able to determine, French doesn't have a term that can be inserted into a sentence to emphasise frustration/disbelief/anger the same way that English speakers use 'fuck' — this is achieved more through tone and volume. So the intent of Schweitzer's expression is as I have translated.

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Sleepless in New York only

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Picture Credits: Stairs - Hell's Kitchen - Kiss - Harper - Taxi - Tease - Drake - Shirt

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