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winxanity-ii · 2 months ago

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⌜I Love, Robot | Chapter 02 Chapter 02 | history. . . loading⌟

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Over the next few years, things began to change. You noticed the distance between you and Rain growing, the once-strong bond you shared slowly fraying like the worn-out edges of an old blanket.

It wasn't something you could put your finger on at first, just a creeping sense of separation that settled in your chest whenever you caught sight of her from across the room.

You'd see her more often now with the colony kids, laughing and chatting, a bright spark among the worn and weary.

At first, you were happy to see her connecting with others, but then you realized she was spending more time with them than she was with you.

It hurt, but you understood. She needed friends her own age, a distraction from the hardships that seemed to hover over all of your lives like a dark cloud.

You were about 19, maybe 20, when everything took a darker turn. You'd been freelancing for a while—small jobs that kept you under the radar, nothing too flashy.

That was until a desperate small business, teetering on the edge of collapse, sought your skills.

You were hesitant, but the pay was decent, and the work seemed straightforward enough: hacking into some old systems, unlocking what was needed to keep them afloat.

And it was a success. Or at least, you thought it was.

But success came with consequences. You didn't realize you’d been tracked, not until someone with far more power than you could fathom found you.

They came to you with an ultimatum, their voice smooth but with an undercurrent of steel that sent a chill down your spine: work for them, take on any job they needed, or they’d turn you over to Weyland-Yutani.

You knew what that meant. You'd seen enough to understand the company didn’t tolerate dissent, especially from a former prodigy with a name they hadn't forgotten.

That's when your life took a dangerous path. You agreed to their terms, the fear of what could happen if you didn't outweighing any hesitation.

The jobs started simple but quickly escalated. Hacking turned into more complex coding, cracking into secure systems, sometimes even building or reprogramming androids and bots—a skill you honed under Marcus's watchful eye.

The pay was good, better than anything you could have made in the colony, and for a while, it seemed worth it.

But it wasn't just the money that kept you going. The promise of protection from other dangerous groups, black-market dealers who might see your skills as a threat, was a lifeline you couldn’t ignore.

To protect Rain and her family, your small, adopted family, you began staying out later, sometimes disappearing for days at a time. At first, Marcus and his wife were upset, worried about your well-being and what could be keeping you away.

Rain, especially, couldn't understand why you'd suddenly become so distant, why you weren't around as much. Her confusion and hurt were plain to see, and it tore at you in ways you couldn't explain.

Marcus eventually eased up on the questioning after he found you one night in the throes of a particularly bad meltdown. You'd come home after a job went sideways—something you hadn't anticipated, a system you couldn't crack in time, and the fallout had been brutal.

You couldn't tell Marcus what had happened, not exactly, but he didn’t push. He simply sat with you in the dim light of the kitchen, his presence a steady, calming force as you tried to pull yourself back together.

"If you ever need to talk," he'd said softly, his voice thick with the kind of understanding only someone who’d lived through hardship could have, "I'm here. You know that, right?"

You nodded, though you knew you'd never burden him with the weight of what you were involved in. This was a part of your life you'd chosen to keep to yourself, a dark secret that had become a necessary evil. And even though you trusted Marcus, you couldn't bring yourself to let him in on this one truth.

But life has a cruel way of taking away the things you hold dear, doesn't it?

Just a few weeks after your 21st birthday, Marcus and his wife fell ill. The colony's cold, damp air had always been harsh, but the pneumonia they caught from the mines was unlike anything they'd faced before.

You watched helplessly as the sickness took hold, their bodies weakened by years of toil in the toxic conditions of Jackson Star. It was like watching your own parents waste away all over again—a slow, painful decline that left you feeling powerless and lost.

Rain was a mess, her normally bright, fiery spirit dulled by the looming reality of losing her parents. She tried to stay strong, but you could see the cracks forming in her armor.

You did everything you could to help, taking over the household duties, scrounging for medicine, anything to ease their suffering, but deep down, you knew there was nothing that could be done.

The disease had sunk its claws in too deep.

One night, as you sat by Marcus's bedside, his breathing ragged and shallow, he reached out, his hand weak but insistent. You took it, holding on tightly, just like you had with your own father all those years ago. The weight of his grip was lighter than you remembered, his strength all but gone.

"Y/N…" he rasped, his voice barely audible over the sound of his labored breaths. "Take care of her… take care of Rain…"

Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded, unable to speak. "I will..." you whispered, your voice breaking. "...I promise."

He smiled faintly, a shadow of his old, warm smile. "Good… that's… good…"

You stayed with him until the end, just as you had with your parents. And when the time came, when the house fell silent except for the soft sobs of Rain and the hollow echo of your own grief, you knew that once again, you were left holding onto the pieces of a shattered life.

And this time, you would do whatever it took to keep Rain safe.

No matter what.

☆

Three years had passed since your adoptive parents' death, and in that time, life had only grown more complicated. You returned from your latest job—a grueling five-day ordeal that left you exhausted and hollow inside.

This time, you'd been tasked with hacking into Weyland-Yutani's high-security network, retrieving files that exposed a chilling directive: in moments of crisis, their synthetics were programmed to prioritize the company's assets over human lives, all under the guise of logical probability.

The job paid well, enough to secure you and Rain's needs for the next six months, but the price was high.

The screams and pleas of employees who’d been betrayed by the very machines meant to protect them echoed in your mind, refusing to let go. You tried to shake the images away as you made your way through the dim, narrow corridors of the small home you shared with Rain.

Entering the room, you found her curled up on your bed, her small frame wrapped around your pillow, her face buried into the soft fabric as she slept. You approached quietly, the soft sound of your footsteps barely audible over the hum of the heating unit.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you reached out and gently brushed your fingers through her hair. Rain instinctively leaned into your touch, a small sigh escaping her lips as she snuggled deeper into your pillow.

A soft smile tugged at your lips, though your heart felt heavy. Watching her sleep so peacefully, so unaware of the horrors you'd just witnessed, was both a comfort and a curse.

You knelt beside her, continuing to stroke her hair, trying to silence the panicked screams still echoing in your mind. Just as you began to lose yourself in the motion, Rain stirred.

Groggily, she opened her eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep. She gave you a tired smile. "Hey," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"Hey," you replied softly, your smile widening despite the weight on your chest.

Rain's brow furrowed slightly as she looked up at you, sensing that something was off. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice a little clearer, more alert.

You shook your head, stilling your hand. "Nothing," you murmured, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just go back to sleep, Rain. It's late."

She hesitated but nodded, a yawn escaping her lips as she turned over, curling up again. "Okay... But could you look over Andy?” she asked sleepily, her voice trailing off. "His eyes... something's wrong with them. He's already in the workshop, in sleep mode, waiting."

"Sure, I'll take care of him," you promised, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. She mumbled a thank you, already drifting back to sleep as you stood up and quietly made your way out of the room.

You moved through the darkened house, your steps light and measured to avoid waking Rain. Despite the pitch-black surroundings, you knew every inch of this place—every loose floorboard, every creaky door hinge.

It wasn't hard to navigate to the small workshop in the back, a space that had become both a sanctuary and a battlefield for your mind.

Without turning on the main lights, you reached for the small lamp on your workbench, flicking it on and casting a soft, warm glow over the room.

In the corner, covered by a sheet, was Andy. You pulled a rolling stool behind you as you approached, removing the sheet with a practiced motion to reveal the android beneath.

Andy's face was serene, almost peaceful in the dim light. The shadows cast by the lamp danced across his features, highlighting the sharp lines of his cheekbones and the soft curve of his lips.

Despite knowing he was a machine, you couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship—the subtle blend of human and synthetic, the way his face seemed almost too real.

You reached out, gently cupping the side of his face, your fingers tracing the contours of his jaw. His synthetic skin was cool to the touch, but familiar. Your hand moved to the side of his neck, pressing the small port to awaken him.

The change was immediate. Andy's body tensed, his right hand shooting up to grab your wrist with surprising speed and strength. His eyes flickered to life, emitting a soft glow in the darkness. "Shh, it's okay," you whispered softly, not pulling away. "Sorry to startle you."

At the sound of your voice, Andy's grip loosened, his eyes quickly focusing on you. "Y/N," he said, his voice calm and even. "You're back."

You offered him a small smile before turning to grab your diagnostics tablet. "I've only been gone for five days," you said, connecting the tablet to the port in his neck and starting the diagnostic test.

Andy blinked as if you'd made the dumbest statement ever. "Five days is more than enough time for someone to be missed."

You giggled softly at his matter-of-fact tone. "Thanks, Dee." You glanced at the screen, focusing on the data streaming in. "Rain mentioned you've been having issues with your eyes. Can you tell me more about that?"

Andy's eyes flickered for a moment before he answered. "I... I can still see, but my vision sometimes become foggy. It affecting my ability to accurately assess situations and objects."

You nodded thoughtfully, continuing to run the diagnostics as you chatted with him, your fingers moving deftly across the tablet. "I see... We'll get it sorted. So, how have things been while I was gone?"

Andy remained still, his gaze fixed on you. "Rain and I have missed you."

A warm smile tugged at your lips. "I've missed you both too." You paused, reflecting on how much had changed since the day you found Andy in that scrapyard.

Your perception of synthetics had shifted over the years.

You'd never treated them as mere machines, but having one as a constant companion had blurred the lines between man and machine.

Despite knowing he wasn't human, Andy's human-like qualities were something you cherished. They made him unique, almost... alive in a way that was hard to define.

The soft beep from the tablet pulled you back to the present. You looked down, seeing the source of the issue on the screen. "Ahh," you sighed, turning the tablet to show Andy.

The screen was filled with lines of code, complex and unintelligible to most. To anyone else, or even to an android whose primary function wasn’t related to programming, this would have been complete nonsense. But since bringing Andy back online, you'd made it your mission to always explain everything you did to him, guiding him through each process.

Part of you believed he deserved to know, a small gesture of respect for the android who had become so much more than just a machine.

But there was another reason, a darker thought that lingered in the back of your mind: the possibility that one day, you might not be around to help him.

You wanted Andy to understand his own systems and the intricacies of his coding—not just to function but to ensure he could take care of himself if the worst were ever to happen.

Andy studied the code intently, his synthetic mind processing the information with an almost human-like concentration. "There is an error in the environmental calibration subroutine," he noted, identifying part of the issue correctly.

You chuckled, impressed. "Close, Dee. But, you got most of it right." You pointed to a specific line of code. "This here—it needs an update. The last patch didn't account for the increased levels of smog and soot in the colony's air. It's affecting your visual processors."

Routine set in as you continued to work. "What is your directive, Andy?" you asked out of habit, fingers moving swiftly to implement the necessary changes.

Andy responded almost instantly. "To do what's best for Rain."

A second passed, and then he spoke again, his voice softer. "Do you ever think about changing the directive?"

You paused, fingers hovering over the screen as you looked up at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about, Dee?"

Andy hesitated for a moment, his eyes studying you with a strange intensity. "The day Marcus uploaded my directive, I remember asking him if the girl standing above me when I first came back online was Rain. He to me it was you, Y/N."

You laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood. "Did you ask him if I was a great hacker too?"

Andy's expression remained serious, his voice steady. "No. I asked him, 'But what about what's best for Y/N?'"

Your fingers stilled on the tablet, and for a moment, you didn't know what to say. You looked up at Andy, his face soft with an expression you couldn't quite place.

A small, self-deprecating laugh escaped your lips. "What's best for me? Ha, I've never been too good at figuring that out. If I had a directive for myself, it'd probably be something like 'make everything harder than it needs to be.'"

Andy let out a low hum, his gaze unwavering. "Even if it's not my directive, just know, I'll still want what's best for you."

You blinked back the tears welling in your eyes, quickly turning your focus back to the tablet. "Thanks, Andy," you whispered, your voice barely audible. You continued your work in silence, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy blanket.

Andy's head tilted slightly, his eyes zeroing in on your face as if committing this moment to memory. "Of course, Y/N... anytime."

The remainder of the time was spent in a comfortable silence as you finished updating his code. You leaned back with a sigh, setting your tablet down beside you. "How are you feeling now, Andy?"

The android paused for a moment, then said, "Well, it's better than before. But if my vision gets any worse, I guess you could say... my future won't be looking 'too bright'."

You just blinked at him, taken aback by the unexpected joke, before laughter bubbled out of your lips. "Was that a 'dad joke'? Where did you learn that from?"

Andy's eyes seemed to brighten, and he sat up a little straighter. "I learned it while walking Rain to work the other day," he explained. "I like them."

You chuckled, warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of Andy picking up on humor. "Well, I'll be sure to learn some more and tell you. We can make it a little hobby between the two of us."

Andy nodded earnestly, his expression softening. "I'd like that. Sharing experiences can strengthens bonds."

You couldn't help but smile at his earnestness. "You're right about that, Dee. We can even start a collection of the worst jokes we can find."

For a moment, the room felt lighter, the shadows less heavy. Andy's presence, his attempts at humor, made the grim reality outside these walls feel a little less suffocating.

It was moments like this that reminded you why you fought so hard to keep your small world safe, even when everything else seemed so uncertain.

A/N: Ahhhh! sorry for things moving thigns so fast with all the time skips, but if you're confused, by the end of this chapter You're like 24-ish and Rain is 21, i'm following fandom ages instead of rain's confirmed 25 age. also, sorry for the long 2 intro chapters, i know most would like to just jump right into the story, but my mind wont let the good stuff happen until it at least lay down the lil backstory 😭💀💀 man, i really need to learn to get over that, but anywhoooo, hope you guys like this enough, thoguh it isn't obvious, i want this to be a sort of a slow-burn, well, on the reader's end at least, lolol, Andy's gonna go full speed tbh, but then again, that's why he's a yandere here.... hope i dont bore you guys too much, but dont fret, next chapter will start immediately with the plot! also, someone asked me to make a tag list so i'll just put that down below:

Tag List: @dreamsarenicer

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a-mandalorians-quest · 9 months ago

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On a serene looking planet in the frontier system, the quiet murmur of merchants and shoppers in the open market was swiftly broken by a shrill screeching woman. "CASSIA DE'AURELIA CAMILLA DECIA! GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT YOU INSOLENT GIRL!" The woman would not run of her own volition, instead sending the city guard after the girl, who had narrowly managed to escape being sold into slavery for the fifth time that lunar cycle. As she ran her sandals fell from her feet but she did not stop, her black dress and sheer purple wrap dragged in the filthy ground but she dated not stop to pick them up, her long, dark brown hair fell loose from the low bun and flowing braid it was in but she only shook her head to keep the hair from her eyes. Three gold necklaces around her neck made her recognizable to other citizens as a high end slave, but they were never removed when she was free. She even had a tracking chip embedded in her arm that she never had the time to sneak away and remove, making her running rather pointless and the guards from all over the city close in on her with every step. Lost in her focus, she runs straight into someone, falling hard backwards and hitting her head on the bricks that make up the road, giving the city guard and her parents more than enough time to catch up to her

“Woah, easy little one!” A man wearing blue and white Mandalorian armor exclaimed as a child bumped into him. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

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carriesthewind · 3 months ago

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Yeah so anyway, I'm making my response to this fucking garbage its own separate post in case people want to reblog it without having to reblog a scare-mongering lie.

This video pisses me the fuck off whenever I see it, and today I'm not in the mood to just scroll past.

Wow! Am I being lead to panic by scaremongering algorithm fodder completely unsupported by real evidence?! test:

The reason you think something exists is just what you're being told by a nefarious *them*, there is actually a conspiracy behind it!

I, an ordinary person with no expertise who critically examines the world around me, have uncovered this conspiracy.

"That's what they're telling you." (put the emphasis wherever appropriate for the conspiracy of your choice - in this case, it's on *telling*)

This new tech thing is actually a bad idea and the old school method was better - which clearly proves there must be a secret conspiracy, because why allow the possibility of incompetence and investor tech-hype when you can instead assume a highly-competent evil conspiracy?

I will now tell you my conspiracy theory while scrolling rapidly through a document without pausing or allowing you to actually read any of it. This allows me to look like I have proven my claims while doing nothing of the sort. Because do you really think someone could do that? Quickly flash a document on screen and just lie about what it says?

But Owl! This is real! A user upthread found the patent and it *does* prove it!

Yeah. I read the linked patent. Did you?

Let's quote the "real purpose" hidden in the patent, as claimed out in the video:

"The real purpose of these screens is to use the little camera at the top right here to scan your face and use AI facial expression analysis to judge whether or not you like the packaging designs of the product you're looking for."

This is complete made up horseshit.

First, let's look where the reblogger directs us, to column #4 on page 17:

"Preferably, each retail product container further comprises customer-detecting hardware, such as one or more proximity sensors (such as heat maps) , cameras, facial sensors or scanners, and eye-sensors (i.e., iris-tracking sensors). Assuming cameras are employed, preferably cameras are mounted on doors of the retail product containers. Preferably, the cameras have a depth of field of view of twenty feet or more, and have a range of field of view of 170 degrees with preferably 150 degree of facial recognition ability. Preferably, software is employed in association with the cameras to monitor shopper interactions, serve up relevant advertisement content on the displays, and track advertisement engagement in - store." (emphasis added and references to figures removed for readability)

That is the extent of the "nonconsensual data collection."

Now, to be fair, there is some stuff on page 18 and 19 which kinda-sorta-maybe has at least some relation to the claim in the video:

"Preferably, the controller/data collector is configured such that as a shopper stands or lingers in front of a given retail product container, the display associated with the retail product container changes yet again. At this point, preferably the controller/data collector has been able to use the customer-detecting hardware to effectively learn more about that particular customer, such as gender, age, mood, etc. The controller / data collector is configured to take what has been detected about the customer to determine which advertisement and other information to present to that particular customer on the display associated with the retail product container in front of which the customer is standing. By tracking shopper data in parallel with which advertising content is being served on all displays within the viewing range of the shopper, the retailer and the brands are better served, providing new analytics. As such, the system provides advertising, influence opportunities at the moment of purchasing decision, optimizing marketing spend and generating new revenue streams....

"Additionally, preferably all inputs collected by the IOT devices will be analyzed locally as well as remotely (via cloud) to provide the feedback inputs for the system to push more relevant/targeted content, tailored for the consumer. The analytics are preferably conducted anonymously, images captured by cameras are preferably processed to collect statistics on consumer demographic characteristics: (such as age and gender). This data is preferably subsequently analyzed for additional statistics for the retailers that are valuable for in-store merchandise layout design and smart merchandizing, including the ability to track the shoppers “traffic” areas, known as “heat maps”, areas were [sic] customers would concentrate more and spend more time exploring, etc." (emphasis added and references to figures removed for readability) (And note the repeated emphasis on preferably - they don't have a patent to do any of this.)

Which, like, not great! I fucking hate the idea of shit like this! But there is literally nothing here about monitoring your expressions to sell the data about how you react to packaging!

This isn't a nefarious plan hidden in the patent. It's tech bros adding on totally sick ideas about how they can sell this shit to walgreens. (Because to be clear, I'm sure walgreens's corporate office would love to collect and sell this kind of information. But just because they would, doesn't mean they can or are. And this patent sure as hell doesn't prove it.)

Because let me be clear: the image capture of consumers is so irrelevant to the product that it literally isn't even included in the claims section of the patent.

Because the patent is quite explicit and detailed about the idea they are selling big retails stores on - this is a better, new, innovative, tech-driven way to "provide an innovative advertising solution"! (The words "AI," "intelligent," and "machine learning" are deployed liberally, but in the same way that "blockchain" was a few years ago. It's advertising tech hype.)

I want to make it clear - the OP in the video is straight up lying to you. Whether for fun or profit or just attention, I don't know and I don't care. If you shared this, you probably should have know better, but everyone makes mistakes. OP, on the other hand, is just a fucking liar.

But Owl! What about "the senators looking into this"?

I don't know how to tell you this, but thing linked about is a press release by a politician's office. That doesn't mean it's not true, but it's not evidence on it's own. Like, the letter linked in the link included links to sources, but is not itself evidence (ooh, layers of links to actually get to a source, my favorite)(actually my computer wouldn't even goddam open the links to the source, I had to independently search for it).

Anyway, the letter to Kroger linked in the press release by the senators contains a single sentence and a single link relevant to the claim here (linked for your convenience because it sure as hell wasn't for mine). Unfortunately, this article is itself based on a goddam press release (That isn't linked! Again, you're welcome.)

And when we finally get to the underlying fucking source. "In addition to transforming the customer experience and enhancing productivity for associates, the EDGE Shelf will enable Kroger to generate new revenue by selling digital advertising space to consumer packaged goods (CPGs) brands. Using video analytics, personalized offers and advertisements can be presented based on customer demographics." So it's purporting to something *kind of* like the claim in the video, but an entirely different format completely unrelated to the thing the video is scaremongering about.

Now Kroger did actually start using the advertising screens in 2023. And you can believe what you want about the data privacy claims and the claims about not using video, just sensors (which remember is entirely consistent with the patent). But remember: being skeptical of a company's claims is fine and good! It does not mean you have proven they are lying, and it especially does not prove you have claimed they are doing something extremely specific! And most of the articles, and the letter from the senators, are (much more reasonably) concerned about so-called "dynamic" or surge pricing. (Which is not related to the screens.)

Like goddamn. Aren't there enough real problems with surveillance and price-gorging to be concerned about without having to make up fake ones? Hell, why can't we at least be concerned with the real problems with those dumb screens, which is that the a) make shopping harder and b) catch fire?

#misinformation #disinformation #patent conspiracies

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baronessvonglitter · 4 months ago

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Eating Out for Christmas

Max Phillips x f!Reader

Word count: 1.7K

Summary: your period comes early, ruining your fun for the office Christmas party. Luckily, your workplace enemy offers his assistance..

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, blood kink, menstrual sex, oral (f receiving), office sex, Christmas smut, hate sex, no romance, shameless smut, reader doesn't know Max is a vampire, reader wears a skirt, mentions of period cramps, brief mention of giving a bj, no use of y/n

Author's note: my Christmas in July offering, written during a particularly AWFUL first day of my period. This was also inspired by a certain scene from "The Tale of the Body Thief", one of my favorite of the Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice.

FULL MASTERLIST

“Shit!” you mutter, checking your panties in the restroom stall. “Fuck fuck fuck!”

You period is here early, and now your brand new white satin panties are ruined. You’d bought them specifically for tonight, your office Christmas party, when you’d planned to finally hook up with Jordan, the guy in Marketing you've been flirting with for weeks. Now that's down the drain.

The toilet paper is out, so creating a makeshift pad is out of the question. You have to slip your panties back on in order to retrieve the spare pair you keep in your desk drawer for times such as these. You make a sound of disgust as you put your panties back on and quickly wash your hands. It'll be just a moment and you'll get a fresh set of underwear and a tampon from your emergency stash.

Leaving the restroom you can already hear the Christmas party in full swing. So your night isn't going to go as planned, that doesn't mean you can't have a little fun in the meantime. Jordan isn't going anywhere, and at the very least you can give him some head in the supply closet.

A cramp stops you in your tracks and you nearly double over in pain. Leaning against the wall you breathe through it. Until you get some Midol in your system, nothing's going to happen between you and Jordan.

"What have we here? A wallflower?"

You hear that voice and automatically cringe. You can't stand your new boss, the sales manager Max Phillips, aka HR Nightmare. You ignore his little comment as he nears you in the hallway. He's wearing a Santa hat and a shit-eating grin. You inwardly groan.

He says your name in a singsong voice and it curdles your blood. "I know you heard me. What are you doing out here?"

"On my way to the party," you try to make your voice light even as another cramp overwhelms you. Max puts his hands on the wall on either side of you, effectively trapping you. His dark eyes take on a predatory look, like a shark who's just scented--

"Blood," he says in fascination. "You're on your period, aren't you?"

Weirded out while at the same time a little intrigued, you answer, "That's none of your damn business, is it?"

He chuckles and you hate how charming he's trying to be. "You are. I can smell it on you. I've been able to smell it on you all week, your body conserving just the right amount of blood, doing its job, just waiting.. and when the magic doesn't happen, all that blood just trickles out of you. It's messy work being a woman, isn't it?"

You take a moment to absorb everything he's said, your face frozen in a look of confusion. "Max, I'm just gonna go get a tampon if that's okay with you." You move his arm away so you can leave.

"No need." He easily traps you again, and for a split second you marvel at his speed. "I can take care of that for you," he whispers seductively into your ear.

Maybe it's the fact that you were expecting sex tonight, or that your hormones are wildly out of control, but something deep inside you is awakened when his breath tickles your ear. "What do you mean?" your voice is soft, yielding.

His eyes bore into yours. "Come with me."

He brings you to his office, traversing the party, but in the festive atmosphere you two are overlooked. Plenty of people are either too drunk or too engrossed in other activities to notice you.

In his office he cuts the light, leaving only a small lamp lit on his desk. He locks the door but leaves the blinds open, giving you a little smirk and a wink.

"What are you doing? Why am I here?" you ask him.

"I'm offering my help," he says easily, leading you behind his desk and letting you perch on the edge of it. "You're bleeding, you're cramping.. that's no way to enjoy tonight's party."

"So what exactly are you offering?" You have some idea, now sitting on his desk.

He gently lifts the hem of your skirt and your scent, mixed with the scent of blood, wafts up to him. There's that predatory look again. "May I?" But without waiting for you answer, he reaches under your skirt and caresses you through your panties. Your gasp is enough to encourage him. He moves the satin material to the side and then his fingers are inside you. You gasp again, louder, and put your hands on his shoulders.

"Jesus, you're soaked," he says, pumping his fingers inside you as you open your thighs wider. "So fucking wet and warm.."

You're so into it you don't even question his obvious predilection for your menstrual blood. It's a turn-off for most guys but Max seems to need it.

"I always.. thought.. you hated me," you said, panting as he switched up the pace: going rough and fast then slowly, curving his fingers so he could stimulate the secret spot inside of you. "You made fun of my presentation in front of our new clients last week.. we lost the account."

"I did do that," his face is buried in your neck, taking in the scent of your perfume, of your shampoo. "I had to. That client was flirting with you, he would have been all over you if I hadn't intervened."

"Why? Why would you do that?" Still you cling to him, still you allow this pleasure he gives.

"So I could eventually have the chance to do this," he says, and as he fingers you he swipes the pad of his thumb over your clit and you see stars.

But he's a tease, and deep down you know it. He pulls his fingers out, slimy with your blood, and licks them slowly, savoring your taste. Even you have to admit it's pretty hot, even if it's a little weird.

"On the desk," he commands you, his voice husky. In your delirium you obey, and he pushes your skirt up to your midsection. He's delicate about removing your panties, and runs his tongue along the bloodstain, catching what's left of its essence.

He's fucking crazy, you think to yourself, but at the same time you're excited for what he's about to do. He moves you a little closer to the edge of his desk and takes a seat in his chair, pulling up to you like you're his dinner. Opening your thighs his breath hitches and then he dives in.

You gasp in surprise at the feel of his mouth on your pussy, the way he licks along the edges, cleaning up the blood that somehow always gets to the crease between your cunt and your thigh. He's ubiquitous, licking everywhere, tasting you. Your mind races. Part of you wonders why you're even letting him do this if you don't even like him all that much, and the baser part of you unabashedly grinds your pelvis up, demanding more from him.

With a barely-contained growl he lifts your hips and tongue-fucks you, moaning at the taste of your blood and juices on his tongue. You try to stifle a scream, and Max stuffs his Santa hat into your mouth. You remove it, too worked up to try to be quiet, and throw the hat on the floor.

The blinds are open, and colored disco lights spin around the room. You two could so easily be caught, but the noises you both make are muffled by the sound of "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree".

Max is relentless, sopping you up no matter how much you have to give. He drives you crazy when he laves his tongue over your folds, adding more pressure at your clit, and sucking hard until you've come and you beg him to stop. The bastard only starts up again once you've recovered, switching it up between tonguing your cunt and lapping at your so-sensitive clit. Your body trembles, thighs quaking as his fingers dig into your flesh. You lose count of how many times he sends you to heaven. All you know is a cycle of pleasure, seemingly endless, turning your brain to mush.

There's a knock at Max's office and the doorknob jiggles. "Hey, Max? You in there? The party's already started." It's Jordan's voice! Your eyes pop open but Max keeps at it as if he hasn't heard. You tap him on the shoulder with force.

"Go away Jordan, I'm in the middle of dinner!" Max only gives himself enough time to shout before diving back in. You close your eyes as the pleasure rises once more, a wave engulfing you and you can't help but cry out.

Max slows down, uncharacteristically placing a kiss on your clit before moving away from you. In the lamplight you see your blood smeared on his mouth, nose, and chin. He licks most of it off and uses his handkerchief to wipe the rest away. "Orgasm is a natural pain remedy, and if I counted correctly you came at least seven times.."

"Shut up." Even though your legs are weak you manage to scoot off his desk, looking for your panties.

"I'll keep them, if that's okay with you," he says. "And don't worry, I got all of it."

"Got all of.. what?"

"Your blood. Your period's over. You're welcome." He looks so self-satisfied.

"How..?" you begin to ask, but a part of you really doesn't want to know.

"I'm just very good with my tongue," he shrugs. "But next month, if you want to do this again, I'd be more than happy to oblige." The way he smiles at you is just evil, but damn if it doesn't make your pussy throb again. "For a favor, of course."

"What favor?"

"Stop seeing Jordan. He already knows about us, he was watching through the open blinds." You're speechless, angry even, but Max continues. "And you might have to put up with a little more of my teasing you at the sales meetings. I have a reputation to uphold, you know."

"You're an asshole," you grumble, and arrange your clothing before heading for the door.

"So. My office, 8 pm, about 28 days from now?" He's wearing a smarmy grin as he waits for you to respond.

You hate Max, but you hate your fucking heavy flow even more. The man knows how to make you come, and it's not like you'd have to date him. Sighing, you pretend to look indifferent. "Sure. I'll be there."

dividers by @firefly-graphics 👑

#pedro pascal #pedro boys #max phillips #ao3 smut #ao3 author #ao3 fanfic #max phillips fanfiction #max philips x reader #max philips x you #max phillips smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal character fiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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max-hubris · 8 days ago

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@dreamsaremywords posted a dope prompt for a Clexa Mandalorian AU a while ago, and I own enough Star Wars RPG books for it to be embarrassing, so of course I had to write something. Please enjoy this meet-ugly between a moody bounty hunter and a reckless idiot. Title from a Perturbator-song that I was listening to on repeat when writing this.

She Moves Like a Knife

Stupid, stupid, stupid, Clarke thinks as she blinks furiously to clear the blood from her vision. Her helmet took the brunt of it, but there’s definitely a cut on her forehead, sending rivulets of crimson streaming down and directly into her left eye.

She hadn’t seen the shock baton coming before it literally hit her over the head, and though her armor ensured the electricity coursing through it wouldn’t send her into a spasming pile on the ground, the impact still fucking hurt.

“Fucking Cartel dicks,” Clarke mutters, readjusting the grip on her blaster. She’s a long way from Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa both, but the Hutt Cartel’s slimy tendrils are longer. And though she doesn’t speak much Dosh, in-between the harsh hissing syllables from the Trandoshans, she hears the name ‘Cholta’ repeated a few times.

She’s not going to let these amateurs take her anywhere, and especially not to some Hutt Cartel Lord who decided to put a bounty on her for no other reason than, in Clarke’s opinion, to be a real fucking asshole. Can’t even let her subtly loiter at a cantina in peace.

Another volley of blaster fire chips away at the makeshift cover, and she knows the durasteel crate she threw herself behind after kicking her initial assailant in the face isn’t gonna hold much longer. She chances a quick peek out of cover, managing to get eyes on all three of them. They’re all holed up behind the half-oval that makes up the cantina’s bar, a far more fortified position than what Clarke is working with. But… These older cantinas have their quirks, and her helmet’s HUD is still doing its job despite the impact, indicating the small fuel tank hooked up to the drink dispensing system. Clarke grins, happy to have her hunch confirmed.

Thankfully, everyone else had fled once the shooting started, so there’s no collateral other than structural to worry about.

Probably.

It’s gonna take a couple of shots to break through the plating, and Clarke is once again immensely grateful she managed to ditch the E-11 and its shitty accuracy as soon as she hit Elrood. As a manufacturing planet, it had a thriving black market filled with various things that went ‘missing’ from its gargantuan factories, and it hadn’t been hard to talk her way in, though she had obviously opted to forego her armor for that particular excursion. The Rodian manufactured heavy carbine she’d traded for had cost her both the E-11 and two thermal detonators, plus a couple of credits on top, but it was more than worth it for the upgraded precision, plus the extremely satisfying thump-noise it made when fired. Clarke has never been much for subtlety anyway.

To drive that point home, Clarke takes a deep breath, holds it, and pops out from behind her cover. Ignoring the shot that whizzes a little bit too close to her head, she follows the tracking on her HUD and finds the most vulnerable part of the tank easily. She exhales and pulls the trigger once, twice, keeping her wrists tense and elbows locked to manage the stronger recoil. Both shots are good, hitting in almost exactly the same place, and the three mercenaries have no time to react as the tank ignites and a fireball engulfs them.

The ensuing blast is probably the final nail in the coffin for the already beat-down cantina, and Clarke dives for a nearby window as the force of the explosion starts making the walls around her creak ominously. There’s screams from her would-be captors as they’re caught in the flames, but Clarke spares them no sympathy as she tucks and rolls, kicking up sand as she leaps to her feet and starts sprinting.

The air is scorching hot at this time of day, with Elrood’s arid climate and two suns quickly making Clarke’s armor feel like a sweltering cage, its bright white color not doing much to alleviate it. The commotion and ensuing explosion has drawn a crowd, even here in the slummier part of the planet. Clarke grits her teeth and pulls the long, raggedy cloak tighter around her, despite the heat.

It’s really no place for a lone figure clad in Stormtrooper armor to be seen.

She knows she needs to find her way off-planet soon, because even though Elrood isn’t under Imperial control, she’s seen a few of their ships coming and going from the modest spaceport lately, and though it’s unlikely that they’re here specifically for her, it’s still getting a little too concerning to ignore.

She makes it back to the little abandoned hovel she’d found on the outskirts of the slums, and as soon as she slams the door behind her, she wrenches the helmet from her head, wincing a little bit as the coagulated blood makes it stick to her skin for a moment.

“Eugh,” she grimaces as she sees the mess inside the helmet. She’s gonna need to clean that out somehow. Not to mention she has to take care of the cut on her forehead. She heaves a sigh and drags her feet through the little two-room building, throwing the helmet and her carbine onto the bed as she passes it.

Despite its state of disrepair, the house is very much livable. It stands in the middle of a little cluster of three other houses of similar shape and size, and Clarke’s assumption is that it housed factory workers, once upon a time, based on the logo still emblazoned on the doors. When she’d tried to look up the name of the company, however, she’d found nothing. Most likely, the company had been bankrupted, and its houses left behind. The other three houses were stripped bare, and it’s anyone’s guess why one of them still held its furniture, but Clarke isn’t complaining. The bed, though obviously cheap, is miles better than anything she’s ever slept on. Certainly much better than the shitty beds back at the Imperial barracks. There’s even a little table, and a chair, and a washroom with a sink, hooked up to a water tank outside. It had been dry when Clarke first got there, but figuring out how it worked hadn’t been hard, and she’d bartered two barrels of water from the nearby cantina to fill it up.

Unfortunately, that cantina is the same one she blew up today.

“Nothing good lasts forever…” Clarke mutters to herself in the cloudy mirror. She turns the sink on and leans down, cupping her hands under the faucet to gather water before splashing it against her face to get rid of the blood. She does this twice and tries to move quickly; she can’t afford to waste water now that she doesn’t know when she’ll get more, and—

Something cold presses against the back of her neck. Clarke’s hands immediately shoot out to the sides and stay there.

“Up. Slowly,” a voice says, distorted as if filtering through the voice-box on a helmet much like her own. Clarke curses inwardly, realizing this is it, they’ve found her. “Keep your arms just like that.”

As the voice commands, Clarke slowly comes back up, straightening at the waist first, then her neck. She mournfully glances down at the water that’s disappearing into the sink from the still open faucet, then looks up into the mirror.

And realizes that the person who has the muzzle of a blaster pressed against her neck isn’t who she thinks at all; because it’s not the Imperials come to haul her ass back to the nearest base to beat the shit out of her and put her right back into a squadron.

It’s worse.

“Mandalorian,” she hisses, lips pulling back into a snarl as she sees the all-too recognizable helmet shape, and the silver gleam of beskar plating.

The helmeted head tilts, and Clarke swears she can read amusement despite the lack of facial features. “Stormtrooper,” the voice retorts calmly.

“I’m not a fucking Stormtrooper,” Clarke bites out.

“That’s funny.” The hand not holding the blaster raises and a padded knuckle raps against her shoulder guard once, mockingly. “Because I think you might be.”

Clarke tips her chin up and stares down her foe, hoping her glare is hitting wherever the eyes might be. “I found this. Took it off some idiot I killed.”

“Being an idiot must be contagious, then, because only an idiot would voluntarily run around in that if they are, indeed, not a fucking Stormtrooper.”

Clarke opens her mouth, but whatever she’s about to say is drowned out by a rapid burst of blaster fire, and both of them immediately whirl away from each other, pressing flat against the wall by the door, each on either side of the opening.

“Oh come on!” Clarke shouts as she spots the very thing she was expecting when she was first accosted in her bathroom; that all to familiar white armor, as well as a gray uniform.

“Of course you have backup,” the Mandalorian grumbles, stowing the sidearm blaster and trading it for a much more formidable rifle hanging from their back, something surprisingly sleek though altogether vicious looking.

“Surround the house! We’ve found the deserter!”

Clarke can’t help but feel a surge of vindication as the Mandalorian’s helmet snaps to look at her, and she grins, despite herself. “Fucking told you.”

“Great. Just an idiot.”

Deciding that doesn’t really qualify for a response, Clarke sets her eyes on the carbine still leaning against her bed. “Cover me,” she says, and absolutely does not wait for any kind of confirmation before she dives through the doorway, towards the bed and her carbine.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, no covering fire is provided, though Clarke manages to snatch the carbine from the bed and drop into a low crouch behind the bed frame in spite of the uselessness of her new not-quite companion.

Undeterred, Clarke blindly fires a few shots over her shoulder, ignoring the painful jolt of the carbine’s kickback from firing one-handed as she glares back at the faceless figure. "Some help you are! I thought Mandalorians were good at fighting!" Clarke complains, and squeezes the trigger a few more times for good measure. A yelp of pain tells her she might have gotten in a lucky hit, and there's more shouting from outside as the sound of the small unit regrouping can be heard. It buys her enough time to scramble back to her original position, next to the Mandalorian that seems perfectly content to let Clarke do all the hard work around here.

Fuck, and the fucking sink is still running.

Having grown up around faceless comrades, heads encased in white plastoid for the majority of their time spent together, Clarke is plenty used to relying on body language to discern emotion. Which is why it's so frustrating that she can't quite seem to get a read on this person, no, this woman, Clarke is pretty sure. Normally, she's not so bothered by not being able to see someone's eyes, hell, she prefers it most of the time. But now, she is irked by the fact that she has no idea where this annoyingly cocky bounty hunter is looking.

"And why would I help you, exactly?" The Mandalorian drawls. "You're clearly more trouble than you're worth."

Clarke grits her teeth at the unexpected ice-cold rush that courses through her chest and down into her stomach at the words. It's certainly not the first time she's heard almost this exact phrase, and while there's absolutely no reason it should hit her so hard, coming from a perfect stranger that had a blaster to her head a few minutes ago and knows absolutely nothing about her, it triggers painful memories, starkly reminding her of just why she's even on the run in the first place. All the things she's done that still weren't enough.

She fights down the unease and fixes the Mandalorian with an unimpressed look. "That officer out there has already reported back that a Mandalorian has been seen with me. Even if you leave me to get captured, you'll be a loose end, and the Empire does not leave loose ends. They'll start flagging ships in the spaceport looking for yours, and haul you in without a second thought. You're not getting off this planet now."

There is a subtle flex in the gloved hands where they wrap around the blaster rifle. The tiniest crack in the wall. Clarke is almost certain that they are now staring each other down, heedless of the smattering of blaster fire and shouting from outside.

"This isn't making me less tempted to shoot you," the Mandalorian says finally, and Clarke tips her chin up defiantly, feeling victory within her grasp.

"That'd make you the idiot then, because you need me. If you want to get past their sensors, you need someone who knows how to fool them. I do."

There's a beat of silence. Then two. Then, without any warning, the Mandalorian surges out of cover and has kicked open the front door and is in the middle of the fray faster than Clarke can blink. Clarke watches, jaw slack, as she moves forward, completely ignoring the hail of blaster fire that goes completely wide. With a powerful roll of one shoulder, the carbine in her hands is hefted and then three precise shots ring out, ventilating three Stormtrooper helmets in short order.

Without a second's hesitation, the Mandalorian strides towards the last man standing; the officer who is now fumbling for the small blaster sidearm he has forgone from drawing in favor of yelling orders instead. He stumbles backwards just as the Mandalorian raises her arm, and two wires shoot out from the grappling device strapped to her wrist.

With a sharp yank of her arm and a show of strength that Clarke was wholly unprepared for, the officer is pulled through the air and collides with an awaiting fist. The crack of a beskar reinforced gauntlet against his jaw echoes off the walls, and he slumps like a bag of space debris.

A high-pitched whistling noise, the wires retract back into the wrist grapple, and the helmeted head turns to look directly at Clarke as the carbine is smoothly exchanged for the sidearm again, and Clarke feels the eyes on her as two shots are fired directly into the unconscious officer's chest.

There is absolute silence for several moments as they stare at each other. Clarke has no idea what the face underneath that helmet is doing, and she honestly isn’t sure what expression her own face is wearing at the moment. There’s a non-zero chance it’s some form of wide-eyed awe.

Still. They can’t stand here staring at each other.

“Where’s your ship?” Clarke asks, with more courage than she’s feeling.

Heaving a full-body sigh, the Mandalorian steps over the dead officer. “C’mon. But if you bleed all over my seats we’re gonna have a problem.”

#clexa #clexa fanfic #thanks again for letting me yoink this prompt!#also does it count as a clexa fic if i legit never mention lexa's name even once?#it's her under the helmet i swear #they're gonna tell each other their names at some point for sure

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strawberryspence · 2 years ago

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happy birthday, @withacapitalp! i hope im not that late! i am so glad to be your friend and i am glad you were born. ily! long islands on me! 🥂🍾💗

There’s this damn spring festival in Indianapolis. It’s pretty popular among young-ins and people from small towns come to visit it every year. There are local vendors, activities, mini concerts. It’s where Eddie thrives the most, he has gone every year since he can remember.

His first mistake was mentioning it to Dustin. The second was agreeing to his insistent pleading if he could come with Eddie to Indy.

Because after Eddie finally said yes. The news— unsurprisingly— reaches El, and wherever El goes, Will goes, and of course, wherever Will goes Mike goes. Then Max hears and also wants in and of course, Lucas also wants to go. So now, it’s the whole damn party. Of course, he can’t handle all the kids. So now, all the adult kids are coming too.

And listen, he thinks they’re all great. But he’s been wanting to get out of Hawkins and away from them to just— breathe. Also, that’s a lie. Eddie doesn’t want to get away from them. He specifically wants to get away from Steve fucking Harrington and all the confusing feelings he have for the very straight man.

Of course, that doesn’t work out.

Because now they're stuck in the middle of a crowd. Eddie has never really understood why people said they felt like a sardine in a can, but right now, he fully understands. He should have known it was going to be busy. It was a Saturday and it’s one of the biggest festivals in town.

He will never say it, but Eddie thanks Steve’s very strong maternal instinct. He can worry for himself right now, because he knows the kids are together due to the very strict buddy system Steve instituted. Now they just have to get to the damn corn dog stand, which Steve declared as their meet up place.

“Eddie.” Eddie whips his head to see Steve staring intently at him. Oh yeah, Steve’s his buddy. “We have to get out of here.”

Eddie nods faintly but doesn’t answer. He has to keep his breathing in check. They’re fine, and the kids are fine. There’s a crowd but they're not after the kids. They're not after Eddie. They’re not after him. It's not an angry mob. Not after him for killing Chrissy. Not—

“Eds.” Steve pushes against the people to get to him. His brown eyes track his face before he sighs in worry, “Hold my hand.”

“What?” Eddie croaks out in disbelief.

Steve looks around, before whispering, "Baby, I think you're one step away from a panic attack. It's too fucking crowded."

And before Eddie can say anything else, Steve captures his hand into his. He doesn't intertwine them together because they're still in public and though they're in the city, it's always good to be safe. But Steve still holds Eddie's hand so tightly, like he's afraid that Eddie's going to vanish from his sight.

"Don't let go, okay?" Steve asks, which is ridiculous, and crazy. Because now that Eddie's holding his hand, clasped together like two ends of the same parenthesis, he doesn't think he could ever let go.

Eddie nods, and Steve pulls him in front of him, shielding him with his arms so people won't bump into him. It weirdly feels like a hug. If he has to describe it, he will say it feels exactly like the moment Wayne hugged him after he came out to him. It's safety, warmth, and overwhelming love and protection.

Steve maneuvers around the crowd like a pro. He dodges people without hitting them and takes them out of the fucking crowd in the middle of the market.

Before he knows it, they're out of the crowd and sitting on a bench. His breathing is finally getting better, but Steve still hasn't let go of his hand. Not when he bought Eddie a drink, not when he instructed Eddie to breathe with him, not when the kids came and asked what was wrong, only to be shooed away.

Eddie's not sure why he's so shaken to the core by this certain touch. He's always been the touchy-feely one. He throws an arm on Steve's shoulders, pats his head when Steve does something ridiculously adorable, and nudges him by the ribs when he says something funny. Steve's never initiated touch, Robin says it's because of the "complete lack of love and care from his parents."

But Steve's right here. Squatting in front of him. Holding his hand as he waits for Eddie to calm down. Looking at him like he— loves him. How could Steve ever be the product of lack of love and care, when he seems to have an abundance of it?

"You doing better, Eds?" Steve asks, his eyes are bright against the lights. He's looking at Eddie like Eddie's something to be cared for, to be loved, like he's something precious.

Eddie wants Steve to look at him like this. Selfishly, he wants to have it for the rest of his fucking life.

Eddie blinks at him, and accidentally, intentionally, stupidly, spits out, "I think I am in love with you."

Steve freezes. He blinks at him.

The world behind them slows down. There's a kid winning a prize a few stalls down, and a man bargaining for a vase on the other end. Someone's order is ready at the food stand and someone just won the bingo. There's a band playing and they're fucking playing Whitesnake's Is This Love.

It's one of those simple, but beautiful moments. Those that make you feel like you're nothing but a small particle in this big, vast world. Eddie basks in those moments sometimes.

However, at that moment, Eddie doesn't. If Steve looks at him like that for the rest of his life, Eddie doesn't think he'll ever feel small again.

He lets the world fade into a quiet noise. Nothing else matters. Nothing, but Steve Harrington.

He just stares at Steve. He just stares as Steve's face breaks into the biggest smile he has ever seen and it quite literally feels like watching a sunflower grow right in front of him. It's a smile that overflows, from the way he beams at him, from the way his eyes wrinkle, the way his nose crinkles.

Eddie's never seen Steve smile this big before and its damn beautiful.

"You sure about that?" Steve asks. There's insecurity in it, but also hope.

Eddie's never been this sure about anything else in his life, so he says, "Yes."

Steve softens, "Alright. That's good."

"How is that good?" Eddie whispers.

"Because, I—" Steve turns over their hands on his lap, and finally— finally— intertwines them. And shit, maybe there is a God, because this feels sacred, a love made just for the two of them.

"Because, I think I am also in love with you."

"I wish I can kiss you here," Eddie says, making Steve laugh, and it spills out of his body so beautifully Eddie wants to keep doing it for the rest of his life.

"Slow down, cowboy," Steve giggles, but the way he tightens his hold on Eddie's hand tells the opposite of his statement.

"Steve! Eddie! Look at this!" Dustin screams from the nearby booth, where El just won him a teddy bear.

"Yeah, you have to come. El's not doing anything. It's just pure talent!" Lucas sarcastically shrieks back.

In the background, El's giggling like crazy. Which 100% means she's using her magic. Eddie can't help but smile at the kids. He's glad he bought them with him to have fun.

Steve immediately stands up at that, their hands breaking apart at the motion. "Oh God. I told her not to use her powers." Steve's about to rush to them— maternal instincts and whatnot— before he stops in his tracks and turns to Eddie.

Steve softens, holding out his hand to Eddie. Eddie takes it without hesitation.

"Don't let go?" Steve asks.

Eddie stares at him, before he whispers a vow just for the two of them, "I won't. I promise."

True to his word, he doesn't let go. Not ever.

Eddie has no intention of ever letting Steve go.

#this might actually be the most romantic ficlet i have written #i want what they have #please god ive seen what youve done for others #tw panic attack #just a tiny bit #im emotional #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson fluff #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanons #steddie hc #dae writes #daeheadcanons

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winterchimez · 8 months ago

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The Spy Who Loved Me | Lee Sangyeon

SUMMARY: you had a clear mission: find out what happened to the missing submarines and get your hands on the microfilm being sold illegally on the market. it was a fairly straightforward task, and you were certain that you would be able to complete it in no time—that is until you crossed paths with the infamous Agent 007 himself.

PAIRING: 007!Sangyeon x agent f!reader

GENRE: james bond / 007 au, spy, crime, angst, suggestive

WARNINGS: nc-17, its a james bond / 007 au so...expect it to be action-packed, mentions of blood, murder, mentions of gadgets and weaponry (guns, missiles, snipers), petnames (honey, sweetheart, princess), violence, Sangyeon is so goddamn flirty here i had a hard time writing this folks (expect loads of teasing and flirting from him 😃), kissing, making out

WORD COUNT: 9,276

A/N: here is my submission for the 007 files collab!! i've chosen the film the spy who loved me & obviously sangyeon (which later on i realised that i should not have wrote this film for him bcs i was going through a crisis...yall would know why as you read this 🫠) i tried my best...wished i could've executed it better but its done and dusted!! shoutout to @momhwa-agenda for always, ALWAYS, beta reading my works for me & that she's always there for me throughout the entire process 🥹🫶🏻💗

You weren’t too sure how you even managed to get yourself into the mess you were in.

Your mission was as clear as day: find out what happened to the missing submarines that had been stolen from the British and Russian army and to get your hands on the microfilm which contained illicit submarine tracking systems that were being offered for sale on the black market.

It all started out fairly smoothly—leave Russia at 5 in the morning to catch the earliest flight possible to Cairo and meet up with a man named Max Kalba, who apparently has his hands on the microfilm itself. By evening, you had safely arrived at the club after tracking his movements while scouring the bar. Sure enough, you eventually find him sitting at the corner of one of the rooms, enjoying the performance that unfolded right before his eyes.

After a few attempts to talk your way out with the club workers, you finally made your way towards the infamous man himself. You sat beside him and tried your best to coax him into handing over the microfilm.

That was until you heard a thud coming right next to you. The individual took a seat down with his glass of whiskey in hand, spinning his alcoholic beverage. At the same time, he attempted to cut right into the conversation you were having with Mr Kalba.

“Why, good evening, Mr Kalba. I’ve been eager to reach out to you-” he paused momentarily before moving his free hand to pick yours that was laid on the hems of your dress, leaving a gentle kiss on your hand. “It’s also my pleasure to meet such a beautiful young lady like you,” he winked.

The male was dressed in a full tuxedo, the suit tugging on his skin a little tight, which obviously shows that he has been hitting off the gym for quite some time. His brunette hair was parted to the sides, his shiny forehead out and shining brightly. He also paired his look with a pair of glasses, and you could’ve sworn that he probably wore a little lip tint, given the fact that his lips were a little too bright red than the usual men you have come across.

You were used to men swooning over you or using all sorts of methods to impress you because, respectfully, you weren’t labelled as one of the wisest yet most beautiful KGB agents in history. It was also part of your tactic to get them to fall for you first before you eventually turned the tables and used them to your advantage.

However, something in this person’s eyes seemed a lot different than the men you have encountered in the past. Something tells you that this man isn’t someone to be taken lightly off, as he looks back up to you with this malicious intent.

It was as if he was trying to tell you to challenge him.

What was he then? Was he after the microfilm just like you were?

After a few minutes of the male trying his best to break the ice between Mr Kalba, this whole facade that he has been working hard on finally comes to a halt as he leans over, intertwining his fingers, and stares intently at you.

“I would like to purchase the microfilm.”

As far as you knew, only the KGB agents were aware of the missing submarines and the microfilm being sold on the black market. You were certain that the general had made it clear to you that none of the other agencies or associations were aware of this matter, and it was strictly up to the KGB agents to deal with the case privately.

So who was he? Why did he know about your supposed mission?

The adrenaline came rushing all over you, and you needed to do something and act fast before the microfilm fell into the wrong hands.

“I would like to bid for a higher price, Mr Kalba,” you announced, leaning in close to the infamous man to give him a little whiff of your perfume, hoping he would fall for you. Sure enough, the man couldn’t resist the scent or your outfit before responding to the other male waiting patiently at the side.

“I’m sorry, gentleman. You heard the woman, and clearly, you’re at a disadvantage right here, don’t you think?”

“Well then, I suppose I just have to bid higher than the stunning woman herself, no?” he said confidently.

Mr Kalba was certainly intrigued and was ready to hear the male’s proposal before he got interrupted by one of his servants, ushering him out to another room to pick up an urgent call. Once he was out of the room, the male suddenly moved closer towards you, to the point that his shoulders were touching yours, leaving little to no space between you both.

“Who are you exactly?” you bluntly spat out, not giving him the opportunity to start the conversation, at least like normal strangers would.

“Aww sweetheart, that’s some very bold language you’ve got there coming straight out of your mouth. You don’t trust me at all, huh?” He leaned in closer till you felt his hot breath on your bare skin.

“You’re a spy; which agency are you working for?”

“That’s too blunt.”

“I’ve got no time to waste,” you replied.

Before the male could even give you a proper response, something made him turn his head immediately towards the other room. He stared at the locked door for a good couple of seconds. He immediately examined the room, not caring about your presence, causing you to trail him from behind.

Once he did manage to pick the lock, the both of you were met by the lifeless body of Mr Kalba, lying in a pool of his blood. The male immediately bent down to examine the body up close, shaking his head when he did not feel a pulse on his wrist. Before he was ready to leave the body, he noticed the marks that were left on the side of his neck, causing his eyes to widen at the sight of it before he began marching down the hallway.

You wouldn’t get your potential witness or suspect off that easily, so you decided to jump onto the vehicle he had stolen from outside the party—a food truck.

As you easily opened the passenger door and slipped right into the vehicle, the male glanced at you before diverting his attention back to the road and driving off into the darkness.

It seemed as if the male could tell that you had so many questions to dump on him, but he beat you to it before you could even open your mouth.

“Major Y/N is working for the KGB. An agent who has never failed a single mission and is always on the hunt for the most notorious criminals across the globe. A seductress, seducing men has always been your primary method to manipulate people and get them to cooperate with you-”

“Okay, you made your point,” you cut him off. “Now, tell me what made you decide that driving into the darkness in the desert is the most plausible reason, given the situation that we’re in now.”

“Honey, you’re a high-ranking agent from the KGB; I’m sure you have noticed the bite marks on the late Mr Kalba’s neck,” he replied nonchalantly.

Bite marks? You were confused. You definitely saw that the source of the blood was oozing out from his neck, but you never did witness bite marks upon the wound with your naked eyes. Could it be that you missed a crucial detail? And how was the man able to catch onto something you couldn’t?

Your stunned behaviour and look gave the male more than enough reason to believe that you couldn’t examine the body up close, so he did you a favour by telling you all about his thoughts and predictions.

“Those bite marks belong to a notorious criminal that you and I have been trying so hard to catch over the past few months, and I’m sure that will certainly ring a bell now.”

Sure enough, it did, and there was only one person you knew of who also committed crimes with the same modus operandi.

“Jaws.”

“That’s right, honey. Let’s go meet our man of the night, shall we?”

After hours of driving through the desert, both of you arrived at a seemingly deserted site filled with tons of broken-down monuments and statues.

There was absolutely no reason for anyone to come here at all, so you knew from the back of your mind that this would be the perfect hunting ground for Jaws as there was also barely any signal out here, making it nearly impossible to contact the headquarters if something tragic were to happen.

As the two of you stepped out of the vehicle, the male immediately took one of his free arms to keep you in place behind him. His other hand was busy reloading a Walther PPK 7.65mm to ensure that he was armed and ready should Jaws ever strike back. You decided it was best to follow in his footsteps while trying to be his other pair of eyes to scour the place.

The place felt eerily silent, almost way too silent. It was an abandoned site, and no one would be in the right mindset to come to a place like this. But the fact that both of you were on the hunt for a wanted criminal paints the situation differently.

Just when the both of you have reached the other end of the site, your sixth sense immediately tells you that something is going to happen within the next few seconds, and that is when you look up to see a brick falling right on top of the both of you. You immediately push both of you out of the way with your quick reflexes before a looming shadow falls upon the male himself.

It was Jaws.

The criminal was already armed with a broken wooden board in hand and began swinging violently at the male to hurt him. The unnamed spy was trying his best to dodge by landing a few punches onto the criminal, which was clearly deemed ineffective, given that Jaws was known for their brute strength and solid defence. Unlucky for the male, he actually took out quite a few hits from the wooden board—you were surprised that he was still standing strong despite having a few cut marks on his bare skin.

You quickly backed away and hid in a corner, trying to take out your revolver where you hid on the holster that was wrapped around your thigh and reloading it with bullets. You have encountered the criminal a couple of times in the past; you knew that normal bullets would do little to no damage to that man; his body was as solid as steel.

Instead, you looked around to see if there was something you could aim at to ensure that the criminal could be stopped momentarily while trying to save the agent who was fighting for his life. A minute passed when you finally landed your eyes upon a rope close to breaking off several metres high from the brawl between Jaws and the agent. There are a few stacks of abandoned materials that would knock them out for a while if they were to fall upon someone.

Quickly running in closer without being detected, you aimed your gun at the rope before mentally counting down for a few seconds before firing the shot. The shot was loud enough to make both males divert their attention towards you, and thankfully, the agent was able to catch on with your doing before he quickly ran towards you and grabbed your wrist to take you away from the site as the wooden boards and abandoned materials came crumbling down directly onto Jaws.

Rushing right back to the vehicle, you offered to drive as you deemed the male himself to be unfit for the driver’s seat (given the injuries he had sustained). As you peered through the rearview mirror, you could tell that Jaws was slowly making his way out from the crumble and would start charging towards you. Not wanting to allow him to do so, you stepped onto the accelerator and quickly sped away from there, not caring if you were going beyond the given limit.

After minutes of driving at full speed, you finally slowed down when you decided you had lost him far enough. Now, you can drive at your own pace while taking in everything that has happened throughout the night until that voice cuts you off from your train of thought.

“Geez, can you female agents not drive at an average speed? Where’s your sympathy for us sitting on the passenger seat?” He sulked.

“I think you owe me a “thank you” instead for what I did back there,” you replied bluntly.

The male could only respond with a smile before he took his hands off the handle and leaned back into his seat. “Actually, I think you might want to thank me instead.”

Right after he finished his sentence, he pulled out a little black USB containing the sole mission you were tasked with for the night.

The microfilm.

But now, it was in the wrong hands, and you needed to negotiate with the agent to find out how he knew precisely about this and who he was working for.

Composing yourself, you took a deep breath before politely asking the male, “What do I have to do to get my hands on the microfilm?”

“Huh, look at you, ready to pounce on me already? Did they not tell you to behave as an agent-”

“Cut off the wild thoughts. I’m only here from the microfilm, and that’s it.”

That was when the male began twirling the USB device on his fingers, giving you a little Yes-I’m-currently-thinking look, trying to rationalise with himself on what to do with you. “How about a glass of red wine while we gaze at the sunrise next morning?”

“What are you, a romanticist?” You growled back, feeling a little annoyed with the answer that he gave.

“Of course, darling. It’s one of the many reasons I always succeed at my job.”

“Clearly, those young ladies need to check their eyesight at the doctors.”

“Now, now…” he pouts before almost laying his hands to rest on your thigh but retracting when he saw that you were giving him the death stare as if you were about to ditch him out here right in the middle of nowhere if he ever had the guts to do so. “Hmph, you’re no fun.”

“What exactly do you want, Mr Agent.”

As you said those words, his flirtatious image began dying down, and he looked at you as if he were being drop-dead serious. You intrigued him, and he was now resting and leaning his arm on the winded-down car windows while he stared right into your soul.

“You’re not bad, Major Y/N. You definitely live up to all the expectations people label you as.”

So, he knew about your identity.

Instantly, you stepped on the break vigorously before pointing your loaded gun right into his face, forcing him to spit out whatever else he was hiding before anything else.

“Time is up. I’ve been patient enough to deal with your nonsense, but I’m done playing pretend. So you better tell me who exactly you are before I pull this damn trigger,” you threatened.

As he looked up and down from the gun to your face, he gently placed two of his fingers right on top of your gun before pushing it down gently so that he could lean in closer so that he was merely inches away from you now.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Major Y/N. The name is Agent 007, better known as Bond. James Bond. You will be coming with me instead, my princess.”

You couldn’t believe it when the general informed you that the Soviet agency would collaborate with British Intelligence. Right after that confrontation in the desert, Agent 007 took over the wheel and drove you both to a secluded area near an oasis, where he informed you that both generals from your respective agencies were already expecting your arrival.

As soon as you both met your superiors, Agent 007 wasted no time briefing the team about what he had found on the microfilm itself (apparently, he could examine it while you were speeding off from Jaws). Unfortunately, the crucial evidence from the film has been removed, and there isn’t much to go on with it.

That was until the infamous agent discovered a faded-off crest at the far end of the film. With Q’s help (the quartermaster of the M16), they could track down the source, which belonged to the famous scientist Karl Stromberg. However, his lab was located in Sardinia, which required a train and a boat ride to reach the island.

Luckily for you, you were pretty familiar with the place itself since you have spent much of your time there hunting down wanted criminals for the past decade, so you practically knew your way around the entire island.

However, it was also unlucky for you that both agencies decided that two brilliant minds like you two would prove to be worthy and crucial for the mission to succeed, causing them to make a pact, and they agreed that both agents would work together to fulfill the mission.

So here you are now, sitting in Agent 007’s car as he drives the both of you up to the highest mansion in Sardinia, making your way towards Mr Stromberg’s lab while posing as Agent 007’s wife.

Yes. Wife.

That idea irked you so much at the beginning, knowing that both of your first encounters with one another weren’t the best, and you certainly did not return the favour of him trying his best to woo and flirt with you. But you knew that taking on multiple identities was part of your job, and so was keeping your personal feelings and emotions out of the way while you were on duty.

With that, you decided to casually guide Agent 007 around the city, securely infiltrate Mr Stromberg’s lab, obtain the necessary information, and quickly leave the islands to return to headquarters.

It shouldn’t be that hard.

Right?

“Say, princess, tell me a little more about yourself.” Agent 007 broke the silence between you two, desperately trying his best to break down the solid wall of ice between you both since that first encounter in Cairo.

Yet, you had no interest in returning the favour and tried your best to turn him down. “I would suggest you drive safely instead. The rocky roads up to Mr Stromberg’s lab are pretty nasty if you’re not careful.”

“Oh, honey, don’t worry about me. I’ve driven pretty much every single vehicle or transport out there. I could take you up in my very own helicopter for a little ride after this whole mission is complete.”

“Don’t bother. I will cut ties with you after we secure the microfilm.”

“Shame. I thought we were getting closer now that we’re partners.”

As soon as you heard the word “partners,” you couldn’t help but feel a sudden wave of anger rise upon you. You began raising your voice to respond to the male while swiftly turning your entire body towards his direction as well.

“You’re insane for thinking that we could ever be partners. Clearly, you don’t prove yourself to be worthy as Agent Seryozha-”

That was when you instantly slapped a hand to cover your mouth, trying your best to calm yourself down as you readjusted your sitting position. You have no idea why on earth this man irks you so much, to the point that you’ve messed up and even brought your lover—well, ex-lover—into the picture.

Agent Seryozha unfortunately passed when he was on a mission in Austria, and a week later, the missing submarines happened, and you were sent off to Cairo. Hence, you barely had time to grieve over your actual partner in crime before you had to convince yourself and everyone else that you’re nowhere near as affected by the sudden news.

But your now bright red face proved otherwise, and Agent 007 was able to catch on pretty quickly to what happened, and he immediately handed you a napkin from his side pocket while his other hand was still on the wheel.

“W-What?” You sniffled.

“Take it, honey. Wipe off the teardrop dripping down your face. It doesn’t look good on you.”

That was when you realised you were crying, and you quickly snatched the napkin away from his hands before drying your eyes. Things went quiet for a while, but he decided that you probably needed some comfort after all that had happened over the past several weeks.

Without saying a word, he instantly intertwined his fingers with yours, holding them tight while giving you a little squeeze to let you know that everything would be alright and you were more than welcome to let out those tears if need be. At this point, you desperately needed this for so long, someone who wouldn’t judge you, and that time could slow down for a little bit. With that, you shut your eyes tightly while letting the remaining tears fall straight down onto your hand as well as his, all while you tightened the grip of your hands with his, too.

After a good minute or two, when you finally could calm down, you mustered up all of the courage left within you to give him a simple answer: “T-Thank you…”

“Call me Sangyeon instead; we’ve now made a pact that we’re partners in crime on our new mission together.”

Thankfully, both of you could easily infiltrate Mr Stromberg’s lab without being detected. Once you got out of the car, you immediately showcased your professionalism by taking on the role of Sangyeon’s wife and linking your arms around his. He introduced himself as Lee Sangyeon, a scientist who was also into marine biology like Mr Stromberg. He was eager to share his recent discoveries with the infamous man himself.

Mr Stromberg strictly requested that only a few people enter his lab one at a time, so you had no choice but to stay in the common area with his assistant while your “husband” went off to attend some business.

Before he left, he quickly turned his attention to you and pecked you on the cheeks, which caused them to heat up fairly quickly. Then he smiled and gave you a little wink.

“I’ll be back real soon, honey.”

As Sangyeon and Mr Stromberg entered the elevators and brought them down to his official lab, you sat on the couch and quickly placed your palm on your cheeks to feel the heat. Unfortunately, your actions did not go unnoticed; his assistant remarked on them, making you feel ten times worse.

“Seems like you both are a newlywed couple, huh?” She smirked.

“W-What! No! I-I mean…what makes you say that?” You tried your best to keep your composure.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s how you both look at one another, especially your husband, as he came back to peck you on your cheeks. And look at you now, trying your best to reduce the redness and heat that’s rapidly rising,” she commented while moving her fist to cover her mouth as she giggled.

As much as you hated how she taunted you, you couldn’t deny every detail she had just pointed out in her speech. It was true, and you hated how Sangyeon was making you feel things and that you weren’t keeping your cool as usual.

You have made out with many men before this because of your mission, so a little peck on the cheeks would prove to be little to no concern for you. But it was different this time. It was the James Bond, his real name being Lee Sangyeon, who was actually making you feel this way, and you’re not sure what exactly your viewpoint on the man himself is anymore.

Not wanting to create more of a scene, you quietly looked down the entire time while playing with the hems of your dress, trying to calm yourself down and not having other unnecessary thoughts. Mentally, all you wanted was for Sangyeon to get the microfilm and get out of there quickly.

Perhaps this is something you have to discuss with Sangyeon about? You certainly can’t be going on like this forever; it would definitely be best if you both came clean and-

Wait. No. Absolutely not.

There’s no way the KGB's Major Y/N would be vulnerable to small matters like this. You have fought armies, destroyed nuclear weapons, and guided the Soviet army into war; there’s no way a little flirting or romance could crumble you like this.

Because that would be humiliating for you.

After what seemed like hours of waiting, Sangyeon finally returned. He immediately approached you, causing you to get up frantically from the couch before clearing your throat to get back into your supposed role.

“H-How was the discussion with Mr Stromberg, my love?”

“Oh, I assure you, honey, that everything went very well, and it’s time for us to move now.”

With that, you linked your arms with his before you bid farewell to the assistant as she showed the way out. Instantly, you both got into the vehicle and drove off from the lab, heading straight to the docks.

Again, it seems as if Sangyeon hasn’t had enough of the breaking-the-ice talks with you. He decided to keep the ball rolling and would constantly come up with something to discuss when all you wanted was peace and quiet.

Especially after what happened back at the lab.

“Honey, you’re still blushing,” he teased.

“Cut the crap, Sangyeon. We’re no longer in our role-plays.”

“Aww, and I thought we were both finally partners now? What’s with the foul mood once again?”

“Shut up and drive, I swear,” you huffed.

“Or else?”

“I will actually throw you right into the ocean right now.”

“Feisty. I love it.”

Oh, hell no, you were definitely frustrated, alright.

Just before you could make your following remark, a bullet instantly grazes through the vehicle, causing you both to turn your heads behind to see that you were now being chased by several vehicles, all of whom were part of Mr Stromberg’s bodyguards.

“Guess the infamous man himself isn’t so dull, after all,” Sangyeon commented before speeding up the vehicle. As he was about to reach for his revolver, which was hidden on the side of his seat, you immediately stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

“Don’t bother, just continue driving up ahead. I’ll keep them busy.”

With that, you instantly took out the gun that was hidden inside your purse and reloaded the weapon within seconds before you peered your head out from the windows and began shooting at the bodyguards.

It was fairly easy for you, being KGB’s best sniper, as you were able to hit all of the vital spots of the vehicles, causing each of them to lose control before either crashing right into the slope of the hill or into the ocean. However, it seemed as if the vehicles kept coming, for you were not coming any closer to knocking them out for good.

“It seems like Stromberg has way too many henchmen on patrol,” you commented before resuming your work.

At this point, Sangyeon has already driven you nearly half the distance to the docks, and you were coming far from eliminating all of them. Suddenly, things were about to get from bad to worse when a big truck came crashing into you, trying its best to damage your vehicle in hopes of attempting that the both of you would surrender. That was when the driver peered their head out from the windows and immediately aimed his gun towards you.

Jaws.

Sangyeon clearly saw what had unfolded, and he quickly swerved the vehicle to the left in hopes that the criminal would miss the shot (which he did) before pressing onto the accelerator once more to head as fast as he could to the docks. At the same time, the sound of a helicopter's thrum came flying in, and you both peered your heads up to see that it was the same assistant from before driving it.

“Agent 007 and Major L/N, I would highly advise you to hand over the microfilm and surrender quietly right now,” the assistant announced out loud through the radios before aiming her gun towards you both.

You both were stuck in a tight-knit situation: a car chase from Jaws and his men while Stromberg’s assistant was above the high ground. Now, there was nowhere to hide or run.

Or so you thought.

“Say, Y/N. Can you swim?” Sangyeon asked swiftly.

“W-What? What are you saying-”

Before you could respond, Sangyeon quickly pressed one of the many buttons on his steering wheel, causing his vehicle to launch a missile from the back towards Jaws and his men. The missile instantly hit the cars, and they all blew up within seconds before Sangyeon drove the vehicle straight into the ocean.

Once the vehicle came into contact with water, it seemingly transformed itself into a mini-like submarine, making it easy to navigate and drive through underneath the water.

“Well, it also seems that we should eliminate our unwanted guests, no?” Sangyeon questioned before pressing another button. He launched a missile that shot straight up out from the waters and right towards the helicopter, making it explode almost immediately.

Now that all enemies were gone, Sangyeon rolled his shoulders to relax the tension that he had gotten throughout the car chase before driving smoothly through the waters.

Throughout your time as an agent, you have witnessed and experienced crazy things, but nothing came close to what you had just seen with your very own eyes.

Grabbing onto the handle upon your seat, you turned to Sangyeon and let out a little huff before shaking your head. “You’re insane.”

“I know, sweetheart. That’s why people adore me.”

It has been about an hour since the both of you got back to your accommodations, and you were now just writing in your journal as a time to wind down for a little bit. Both you and Sangyeon had a little chat about the findings he had gotten through the microfilm, and talking to Mr Stromberg himself was that he had a hidden supertanker in the ocean called The Liparus and an underwater base named Atlantis. In order to proceed, both of you needed to wait for your next orders from both generals specifically to arrange a much more suitable transport and disguise to head over to the locations.

So here you were, relaxing with your journal while Sangyeon was busy taking a nice hot bath after all the chase from Stromberg’s henchmen hours ago. When you heard the water supply being turned off, the male stepped out of his bathrobe and took a towel to dry his hair as he approached you.

Once again, your cheek began burning red as you took in the sight before you—his hair dripping wet, his bare face as he just got out of the shower, and the slightly exposed chest from the bathrobe.

It’s illegal to look this good, Lee Sangyeon.

“Like what you see, princess?”

With that, you immediately snapped back into reality, clearly your throat, before ducking your head back to your journal. “In your face, you idiot.”

Just when you thought that returning to your journal would help you escape his torments and flirty comments, you suddenly felt the need to lift your head to see what was happening. You felt that someone had been eyeing you up close for a while now.

Turns out your instinct was true, and you could’ve sworn that you were about to explode anytime now due to the immense heat rising rapidly up to your head as Sangyeon had positioned himself entirely on top of you, both of his legs on either side of yours as he leans his head forward, making you lay back down on the couch.

“W-What on earth do you think you’re doing!” You screamed, covering your face with your journal before the man himself removed it.

“You have been acting strangely since this morning, Y/N. Care to share with me why exactly that is?”

“I-It’s none of your business!”

“Unfortunately, now that we’re no longer strangers but partners, I deserve to know every single detail about what’s going on in that little mind of yours,” he retorted while lifting his fingers to rub your nose, making your stomach feel even worse. “Tell me, princess. Pinky promise that we won’t keep any secrets from each other, no?”

“Jokes on you, we’re spies. We’ll always live a double life. You’ll never get to know about my secrets, ever.”

“Hmm, maybe I can make that happen.”

In the blink of an eye, he immediately leans down to kiss your lips directly, slowly increasing the pressure as he lowers his body to yours. You were too stunned to react and could only open your eyes to see the whole thing unfold before you. Within seconds, he pulled away before rubbing his thumb across his lips, savouring your taste on his.

“Hmm, mango lip balm huh? That’s my favourite kind of flavour,” he smirked.

Goddamn you, Lee Sangyeon.

“I swear you’re so-”

Before you could finish your sentence, a knock was heard from the front door, and Sangyeon immediately got up from you and headed towards the source of the sound. He then unlocked the door to see that a messenger had arrived to pass him a note.

As you squint your eyes to examine the letter from afar, you clearly see the stamp on it, and you know that it is time to cut off all of this nonsense and get back to work as soon as possible.

Sangyeon immediately returns to the living space and opens up to read the letter in his hands. Thanks to Q’s examination, it seemed that The Liparus and Atlantis were keeping something far more threatening, and it was up to you two to head there as quickly as you could before it was too late. The two of you were to board a US submarine that would be passing back to Sardinia early the next morning, with the general already informing the crew abroad about your presence.

“Alright, that seems plausible,” Sangyeon replied before burning the letter into the fireplace (it was what spies usually do after receiving a message about the next mission or crucial evidence anyway).

As you took on the next mission, you stood up before heading back towards your room to pack up for the trip before Sangyeon stopped you in your tracks by posing a question.

“That nightgown sure does look pretty on you.”

You figured you were done trying to escape his comments, so you took a deep breath and tried your best to respond properly. “Yeah, I got it in Austria a few weeks prior. It’s such a beautiful place.”

“Indeed. I miss travelling there; I’ll have to head back there soon.”

“Oh? So you have been to Austria? When was your last trip?” You asked.

“Two weeks ago.”

Just then, that comment suddenly rang a bell in your head. Sangyeon was there two weeks ago, just like you did, but both knew very little about the other. But what if…there was a possibility that he knew about your ex-lover? You were all spies; surely you must’ve known about one another, even in an auditory manner.

Instantly, you marched towards Sangyeon, pulling up a picture of your ex-lover and shovelling it into his face. You desperately wanted to find answers and a conclusion to the case. “Do you recognise this man?”

It took Sangyeon a while to look at him before he stepped away and started pacing around the room. “No, what makes you say that?”

“He was Agent Seryozha, my lover,” you bluntly replied.

After a few moments of what seemed like Sangyeon trying to find the right words to respond to your comment, he placed both hands on his hips and slowly walked towards you.

“Hear this out, Y/N. If you’re out trying to enjoy your little break and someone comes up behind you in an attempt to murder you, you don’t always have the time to remember who the individual may look like. In other words, agents like us must always be prepared to give up our lives in the line of duty. If I knew that, then so did he.”

With one final step in front of you, he stares down at your face before he humbly whispers to you with a “Yes, I did kill him”.

Your facial expression immediately sank and tightened. Both hands balled up into fists, resisting the urge to lose your cool for the millionth time before him. Instead, you calmly tip-toed up to bring his neck down with your hands as you leaned into his ear.

“Well then, thanks for finally putting a closure to this case. So when this mission is finally over, I will kill you with my own bare hands.”

Once you had made your point, you immediately shoved him away and stomped towards your room, slamming the door shut loudly before leaning against it. Taking a deep breath, you just wished this nightmare would end soon.

Just when things finally looked good for us, Sangyeon.

You knew from the back of your mind that kiss meant something, or at least you thought it was. Sure, he was a womaniser, but the Sangyeon you knew wouldn’t go around kissing random women like that. As much as you wanted to ask him about it, you had your ego and pride to keep, not wanting to show that he was winning the little game that he was playing. Hence, you kept your mouth shut and spared little to no glance at the man since the day before, even as you were slowly let down into the submarine sent by both of the generals for you to board to head to Stromberg’s The Liparus to find out what exactly he was hiding truly.

The commander was surprised to see a woman like you on board, but Sangyeon jumped into your defence, and you were immediately let loose, given that they were now aware you were the Major L/N of KGB. After some time of meticulous planning of how everyone would proceed, the alarm started going off immediately, sending everyone on the submarine into a frenzy.

It wasn’t long before you and Sangyeon realised that the tanker had captured the submarine, the vehicle slowly rising from the waters to the docks. Immediately, Sangyeon nudged your shoulders and quietly said that the missing submarines had been found, each hanging up on both sides of the docks.

Now, you have plenty of evidence that Stromberg was the man behind the disappearance of the submarines and the illegal distribution of microfilms.

But the question of why Stromberg did it still remains a mystery.

Why?

“All crew members of the USS Wayne, surrender yourselves immediately with your hands behind your back right this second,” one of the commanders announced out loud from the speakers.

This was when you knew it was time to put your feelings aside and that working with Sangyeon for now was best. You both needed to devise a plan to release the two submarines and save the crew simultaneously. Time was ticking as you were now being escorted out of the submarine to the docks, but Sangyeon managed to take off his cap and place it right on your head, pushing it down to ensure it was intact.

“Stay close to me; I’ll keep you safe from Stromberg’s men.”

You didn’t give him a proper response but managed to walk right in front of him as you exited the submarine, lining up with the crew as Stromberg’s men carefully examined every single one of you. They pulled out batons and immediately started landing a few blows directly onto the crew members as if to torture and humiliate them.

Your blood was boiling, and you couldn’t wait to take these men down with your bare hands. You have done it countless times, taking out an entire army alone; it was easy for you. However, Sangyeon notices that you are about to jump right onto the men and perform a takedown; he snakes his hand to intertwine with yours from behind, putting a slight pressure to tell you this wouldn’t be a good idea for now.

The only thing was: were you going to take up his advice?

As one of the men stood before you, he looked suspiciously at you, examining you from top to bottom before commenting on your body: “You look far too slim and weak to be in the navy, youngster.” Just then, he took his baton to lift your cap, causing all of your long, brown, wavy hair to fall straight down to your shoulders, and his eyes widened upon the sight.

Within seconds, you quickly landed a strong punch into his abdomen before running to do the same to the other men, instantly knocking them out cold. All of the other henchmen on duty on higher grounds quickly started aiming their snipers towards you, shooting recklessly in hopes of one of the bullets hitting you eventually. Little did they know that you are the best sniper in KGB, so obviously, reading and sensing where the bullets were coming from was a breeze in the park.

When you have taken down all of the men at the docks, a shadowy figure emerges upon you, yanking both your arms behind your back, leaving you no room for escape. Suddenly, you felt that familiar breath hit the back of your neck, and you slowly turned behind to look at the familiar figure.

“Jaws.”

“My my! What a sight that was!” Another shadow emerges on the top of the deck, accompanied by a hand-clapping sound that the individual was producing. It was the infamous man himself. “I’ve always wanted to see the infamous Major L/N in action with my own eyes.”

This can’t be good.

“Now, it’s very brave of a woman like you to board my tanker, but I think you’ll be far more useful if you quietly come with me. I could definitely use some help in my office.” He steps in front of you and takes a strand of your hair before he starts twirling it around his finger. As much as you want to retaliate and land a blow into his face to break his jaw, you are stuck and unable to move even in the slightest.

Jaws indeed was an exceptional human being.

“Hate to be the party pooper, but I’m sure I could be of better use to you than she will be, Mr Stromberg,” Sangyeon cuts in as he slowly makes his way towards you both, aiming his revolver right at the mastermind himself.

Mentally, you were sending him death stares, thinking that he was out of his mind to aim his gun at Stromberg when dozens of snipers were already aiming right at him from above. Instead of putting up another joke to ease the situation (which he usually did to tease you), he glared right into your eyes, signalling a code only high-ranking agents like you could understand from the get-go.

Don’t miss my signal, and do it right away.

With a gulp, you carefully examined his body movements and speech, studying his demeanour to explore the opening that would let you know that you could finally retaliate and defeat the criminals themselves.

“Ah, Mr Bond. Your disguise as Dr. Lee the other day certainly did not go unnoticed. I assure you that my men are far more ready to deal with whatever tricks you are about to pull,” Stromberg responded confidently.

“Now, that makes me so happy to hear you have been expecting my arrival. But I must first and foremost deeply apologise, for I probably would not be meeting your expectations.”

That sent a confused look in Stromberg’s eyes, and it was then Sangyeon pointed his gun up and fired a shot, causing the entire electricity to go off in the tanker, making all of the henchmen panic and lose their cool.

Now that it was dark, you had a bigger advantage of taking down the criminals, starting with Jaws. You lifted your legs to land a solid kick up on his thighs, causing him to yelp in pain as he released you from his grip. You quickly climbed up to Jaws and gave him a headlock, knocking him out temporarily so that you had time to deal with the other henchmen for now.

Before you could even make your way up, you noticed Sangyeon’s absence and began hearing multiple men grunting on the upper docks. This gave you more than enough hints that your partner was up there dealing with the mess.

Instead, you decided to follow and hunt down Stromberg, following his faint shadows as he disappeared into the bottom deck. Many obstacles were in the way, such as laser fields and sleeping gas. Still, thanks to your flexibility and agility, you avoided each one, narrowing the distance between you and the mastermind.

Eventually, you reached the control room, where the man stood before the panel, his hands inches away from pushing down on a huge red button.

Aiming the gun right at him, you weren’t going to waste any more time and let him run loose again, and you were finally going to get him to spill all of the motives and deeds he had done up till this point.

“You want to know why I stole the two submarines in the first place, sweetheart? I am going to use the missiles in both submarines to destroy Moscow and New York City and create a whole new underwater world where people could reside.”

“You’re just going to trigger a global nuclear war.”

“And what about it? As long as I have the Atlantis, it’ll all be possible!” He screamed, inches away from pushing the button down any second now. “So say your last prayers to these beloved cities, and join us to start a new civilisation underwater!”

No, you don’t.

Without a thought to spare, you instantly aimed and pulled the trigger at his wrist, the bullet penetrating right through the skin and causing him to pull back as he yelped in pain. You weren’t going to let him live just like that, and you were more than ready to throw the man right into the cold, rising ocean water that was now slowly filling up the tanker.

Right when you were just about to do the deed, someone grabbed your wrist and held you back. It was Sangyeon. “Women like you shouldn’t get your hands dirty; let me do the honours.” With one swift push, he was immediately thrown into the waters, trying to survive the best that he could until the water completely engulfed him.

Sangyeon then turned his head back and walked straight to the panel, typing in a few things that you could barely make out yourself. This made you squint your eyes and try your best to read his fingers on the letters he was typing.

“Don’t do that; it doesn’t look pretty on your face.”

“Mind your own business; what exactly are you doing now?”

“Honey, I’m trying my best to contact the respective submarines to pull back and not fire the missiles, but it turns out that it’s not really plausible since the missiles are already loaded and ready to go.”

“So, what do you plan to do now?”

“Well, there’s only one option left. And that is to make both submarines destroy one another.”

Destroy one another? You have got to be joking. Your mission was to find out the locations of both missing submarines to ensure your respective agencies were safe and sound. So why destroy them now?

“Because that’s the only way to prevent a war from happening, sweetheart. It’s now or never,” Sangyeon made his point loud and clear, and he would not take no as an option. Reluctantly, you finally accepted his decision and gave him a nod, allowing him to proceed with what he was doing.

That was until Jaws interrupted you both once again, this time holding a broken piece of cement from the flood on the upper floors. He quickly aimed and hit you with it, but you dodged it swiftly. It seemed like he wouldn’t go down without a fight, and you certainly couldn’t let him distract Sangyeon while he was trying his best to send coordinates to both submarine commanders.

Then, you noticed an opening where a wired fence had broken apart, leaving a hole that someone could easily fall into if they weren’t careful. Then you decided to take the chance, moving slowly towards that spot while still dodging Jaws’ attacks.

Slowly but surely, you finally began to see an opening, and you immediately moved out of the way, causing Jaws to run right towards the edge of the opening. He started to lose his balance before finally falling straight into Stromberg’s shark tank, which he kept handy while running his illegal business.

After ensuring that Jaws was busy with the shark in the tank, you quickly ran back to Sangyeon, who was now staring intently at the screen with his arms crossed. With that, you clearly got the message that he had successfully sent the respective coordinates and was now waiting for both submarines to launch the missile against one another instead.

“How much longer?” You asked the male.

“Hmm, I’d say in T minus…10 seconds.”

“W-What? 10 seconds? Then-”

“Yes, sweetheart. It’s time to get the hell out of here.”

Immediately, Sangyeon quickly grabbed your wrist and pulled you away. He returned to the docks and found the nearest exit before jumping straight into the escape pod. Sangyeon wasted no time navigating and getting the thing to work as you both quickly got the hell out of the tanker that was about to sink.

Apparently, he could also free the other crew members beforehand while you were busy chasing down Stromberg and had them returned to their submarine. With his signal, the commander on board was to shoot down both The Liparus and Atlantis. In order to do that, both of you needed to get far away enough to make it happen.

After navigating through the open waters for about ten minutes, Sangyeon sent the commander a set of coordinates via the mini-control panel on the side of the escape pod. Two missiles were then launched immediately, shooting down both Stromberg’s hideouts.

It all happened so quickly. Now that both submarines were destroyed, and so was Stromberg’s valued tanker and hideout, the mission was finally accomplished.

Or was it?

Instantly, you pulled out a revolver from your holster and pushed it right towards Sangyeon’s skull. You have always kept true to your promise, after all.

“What is this all about, princess?”

“Like I’ve said before. Once the mission is over, and so will we, I will kill you for what you have done to my past lover.”

Sangyeon immediately shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “Sweetheart, you clearly said that it was your past lover. Would killing me do any good or bring him back to life?”

You hated how much his words stung your heart. You were too blinded by rage and revenge to determine right and wrong. Since the beginning, Sangyeon has always been there and kept you safe while completing the mission. Sure, he was a womaniser and could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but he always kept his word, no matter what he did.

If it wasn’t for him, you weren’t sure you could complete this whole mission alone. Yet, you couldn’t bring it out from your mouth to actually acknowledge his presence in your life and how he was somehow able to give you a sense of comfort throughout the past couple of weeks as you mourned over the death of your ex-partner.

Your grip on the revolver loosened, and Sangyeon made a move to grab hold of your wrist and slowly pull it down. It was evident by now that your tears began flowing again, and he reached out to brush them off with his thumbs before lifting your chin with his fingers to make you look straight into his eyes.

“You have done so well, Major Y/N. I couldn’t be more proud of you as a partner.”

“P-Partner?” You sniffled.

Instantly, his eyes brightened, and he leaned in close to you. “Unless you would like to proceed further than that?”

Not wanting to lose the fight, you placed both hands behind his neck, pulling him in closer to you so that both lips were now inches apart. “Don’t be stupid.”

You had no idea what made you return the favour this time when you have been actively rejecting his comfort and touch for so long. Perhaps it was because you have finally decided to accept reality and move on with life; you didn’t even know much about yourself. But you needed one thing so badly: to feel his lips on yours again.

You couldn’t enjoy it much during your first time with him (well, it was his fault for teasing you and thinking that it would be a good idea somehow to manipulate your thoughts and emotions in a bathrobe). Still, he also wore a cologne that smelled way too good for him, one that would lure you in if you weren’t careful enough.

His lips, god. Never in a million years would his nasty mouth actually hold such plump and flavourful lips, and he definitely knew his way around kissing a woman. He knew the right pace, movement and pressure to please someone, and he was also wearing a mango-flavoured lip balm, very similar to the one you would often wear yourself.

When you both finally broke apart for some air, Sangyeon gave you a grin, and you returned the favour with a slap on his shoulders, knowing that he was going to say something about you.

“So you finally admitted your feelings for me, princess? It took you long enough to do so,” he teased.

You knew all along that your feelings for Sangyeon weren’t normal. It definitely did seem like Sangyeon was an escape for you to get over your ex, but eventually, it blossomed into something more, and you fell for his charms. At this point, you knew there was no longer a way to hide your feelings, and it was time to face reality the way it is.

“You could’ve just told me you wanted me this badly, Y/N,” he continued.

“I’m still going to kill you someday, Sangyeon. Don’t get all cocky,” you deadpanned.

However, the male wasn’t affected in the slightest, and he leans back down to reconnect your lips with his once more.

“Tempting, and I’ll very much look forward to the day when it happens.”

the 007 files masterlist

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @zzoguri @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction @lngwayup @djidfk @daisyvisions @momhwa-agenda @strayed-quokka @stealanity (join my permanent taglist here!)

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breakfastteatime · 6 months ago

Text

Today's Fallen Order request is "That looks broken" for @blueflowertea

The sun shines outside, flowers bloom, Greez has freshly baked bread cooling in the galley and all is calm and quiet aboard the ship. The others have ventured into a nearby market, leaving Greez with the whole ship to himself. He’s set the navicomp to run maintenance routines, the deck is sparking from his intense scrubbing, he baked the aforementioned bread (mostly to get rid of the odour of whatever the heck Cal tracked in from their last stop on an honest-to-great-grandma swamp planet), and the refresher hasn’t been that tidy since the day the ship left the production line.

All in all, Greez has had a very productive day while the others go gallivanting, with their ‘the Force is calling me’ and ‘I wish to see a new world’ and scanning, always scanning. It’s the first time in too long Greez has been able to play his own music on the sound system too. Apparently Latero lounge funk is nauseating for Humans. And Greez means that literally – both Cere and Cal get all woozy and pale if he tries playing it. It makes Merrin giggle uncontrollably in a genuinely dangerous to her health kind of way.

Greez makes himself a cup of caf and prepares to sit down, maybe catch a pod race, when he hears familiar voices approaching. He switches off his music and watches BD lead the way. That’s unusual. He rarely puts his own feet on the ground unless…

Greez looks up. Cal is on his feet, conscious and limping. Cere and Merrin follow, Merrin looking extremely pleased with herself while Cere looks like she’s ready to catch Cal at a moment’s notice.

“What happened?” Greez asks.

“Cal did not look where he was going,” Merrin says. “He tripped over a market stall.”

“And did such a great job putting it back together the stall owner wasn’t even mad at me!” Cal flops down onto the couch. Good thing Greez didn’t get around to cleaning that off today. He’s covered in soil. “And I was looking where I was going. I just got distracted. Totally different problem.”

“Yes, you see something shiny, and all other thoughts fall out of your head,” Merrin says.

“Nah, that’s BD, right, buddy?”

BD cackles and dashes off to scan the terrarium.

“Take your boot off,” Cere says.

“I twisted it, Cere, it’s nothing.”

“Take your boot off. Greez, grab me the medscanner.”

Greez never, ever, messes with Cere when she’s using this tone of voice. Cal, on the other hand, is not that wise.

“I twisted my ankle. Some ice, a few stretches, it’ll be fine.”

“And how are you going to apply the ice with the boot on? Take it off. Now.”

Merrin snorts. Cal levels a glare at her. She heads off into her and Cere’s cabin. Greez hands over the scanner to Cere. He gives Cal a nudge. “There’s no need to turn this into a fight,” he whispers.

It isn’t much of a flashpoint, but it’s one nonetheless and despite all this time together, no one has managed to iron out Cal’s ‘I’ll work through anything’ mentality. On top of that, he’s a young man who clearly wants to spread his wings. Greez gets it, he really does, but sometimes Cal needs a reminder he isn’t immortal. No, it’s simpler than that. Sometimes, he needs reminders that he doesn’t need to be in pain constantly.

With much eye-rolling and amateur dramatics, Cal reaches for his boot. He pulls, and Greez watches him literally go several shades paler. A funny gasp emerges from him, and he grabs the couch cushions, knuckles bleaching white. Greez hears Cere take a breath, ready to lecture, and reaches over to whack her on the arm. The woman really needs to know when to push and when to shut up.

It’s slow and painful (literally for Cal, based on how much he’s sweating), but the boot comes off.

Greez can’t help himself. “That looks broken.”

Cal is silent as Cere scans the obvious problem. Greez grabs an icepack, ready to put on the injury the moment they have confirmation.

“Yes,” Cere says. “Broken. It’s a hairline fracture, so a bone knitter and a few days of rest will fix it right up.” She reaches into the medkit once more and pulls out said knitter. Definitely an essential purchase, one they’d made not long after meeting Cal.

Head shaking, Cal tries to pull away. “I don’t need to rest it, I can manage.”

Certain he knows why Cal thinks he can ‘manage’, Greez slaps the icepack down just hard enough to catch Cal, who hisses and levels a glare at him. “You are resting it. Consider the rest of us at your beck and call.”

Cal pauses, turning the thought around. “Everyone?”

Greez nods. “Merrin!” Cal bellows at the top of his lungs. “You’re at my beck and call! Grab me a drink, please!”

#fic requests 2024 #star wars jedi: fallen order #jfo headcanon #jfo minific #cal kestis #bd 1 #greez dritus #merrin #cere junda

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penaltyboxboxbox · 8 months ago

Note

i'm here for any breadcrumbs of ur android AU >:V

I ACTUALLY HAVE MORE THAN BREADCRUMBS......heres some backstory some lore its incomplete but yeah take what i have :)

COMPREHENSIVE ANDROID AU

Cars and Drivers essentially have a symbiotic relationship, the cars have been designed to require an android pilot, with their power units/batteries being linked into one another. While traditional safety concerns are not something to worry about, this link between the electronics of the car and the driver means that malfunctions and damage to the car can result in technical damage to the driver. For example, if the car's own power systems begin failing, it may begin leech too much power from its driver, spreading battery life too thinly and causing shutdown for them both. Plugging into the car essentially puts the driver into a hyper-powered state, the car becoming an extension of their body.

Drivers can accrue damage of course, and like with cars there is a limited amount of replacement parts allowed each season, with penalties being doled out if breached.

F100 models are the standard approved android for F1 Racing, replacing the previous F01 models in 2015. The androids themselves are developed by independent manufacturers, each offering specific strengths, focuses, and technologies- teams themselves are forbidden from android manufacturing, ensuring that there is still competition and markets for drivers. The main challenge for teams is to develop cars and software, and then finding android drivers most compatible with their teams systems.

When a team secures a driver, they are fitted with a new head component that visually denotes them as part of that team and also holds/runs any team specific programming, and is responsible for the main compatibility with the car. Android drivers physically cannot pilot other teams cars unless the corresponding head unit is installed.

Androids hold little personal autonomy in this world, and typically have lives very controlled by their teams, as they are as much of an asset as the cars. This may vary depending on manufacturer and team attitude/culture, with some allowing for more freedom of expression and relative "personhood" of their android drivers, but undoubtedly still will maintain a great deal of control.

LETS GET INTO THE DRIVERSSS

Charles: F100-R18 Model by Leclerc Engineering, running CL16 / A charming and quick model, it is rumored that his core programming, processing, and body itself were secretly developed by Ferrari associates rather than fully by an independent manufacturer. This has led to a bit of drama surrounding him, with people questioning the team's involvement in building an android from scratch specifically to drive their cars, but his success has not been dominant enough for people to make too much of a fuss. There has been very little data showing if Charles is compatible with non-ferrari tech, one of the few things that would disprove the rumors around him, but the team shows no signs of trying to part with him any time soon.

Carlos: F100-R15 Model by Sainz Company running CS55 / A unique model of the F100, developed off of the Sainz Company's highly successful RA7-CS model, developed for Rally driving. The RA7 was re-engineered to match specs of the standard F100, while retaining durability and adaptability aspects the RA7 was made famous for. A unique model on the track, he has faced constant skepticism for not being as well optimized.

Lance: F100-R17 Model by Lawrence Stroll, running LS18 / In contrast to other racing androids, Lance was developed with many components more traditional to companion androids, and is treated like a son by his developer, Lawrence Stroll. When not driving, Lance lives a very human life, and is the apple of his creator's eye, garnering them both criticism over Lance's belonging in such a cutthroat sport. He also faces similar scrutiny to Charles, in that Stroll owns the racing team, as well as individually developing driving androids. He continues to state that Lance was developed first as a son, only second as a racing driver, and his model has shown compatibility with other teams cars.

Fernando: F01-R02.WDC Model by FA Alonso Kart & Sports, running FA14 / An otherwise defunct model, Fernando is still running despite it all. New softwares that he should not be compatible with, upgraded parts that should not fit, he somehow manages to make work, and deliver consistent results.

This can be credited to a massive electronic overload during a crash in 2015, in which he suffered a complete system malfunction. He appeared to just need a reboot and recalibration, but the incident unknowingly released previously encrypted team information into Fernando's memory and bypassed/disarmed a number of obsolescence measures that had been placed on his model, allowing his internal AI and adaptive systems to essentially run free.

Logan: F100-R23 Model by Sergeant Manufacturing, running LS2 / The only American made model on the grid, which has faced some scrutiny, as the crossover from American motorsports to International has not yet been the smoothest. A very new and untested model as well, approved for F1 in 2023, he has not proven to be the most compatible with the current Williams car, frequently facing technical issues.

Oscar: F100-R23 Model by Webber Technologies, running OP81 / Oscar's model was developed under the Australian manufacturer Webber Technologies, basing his internal systems off their previously successful F01-R02. He faced controversy when entering the Mclaren team, as Webber Technologies had a long term testing deal with Alpine while developing their F100 and his accompanying OP81 programming. While it is insisted that procedures were properly followed when erasing proprietary Alpine information from the OP81 program, some are suspicious due to his high level of success upon entering the Mclaren. Some theorize something else entirely, that Webber had been secretly testing Mclaren software in the OP81 system for much longer than anticipated, and optimizing the android for their car specifically prior to signing.

#ask #android au

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draftsandrecs · 10 months ago

Text

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader finds herself crushing on her sister’s ex boyfriend after they run in to each other years after the break up.

Word Count: 4,670

Warnings: 18+, smut, no condoms, dirty talk

Taglist: @jbbarnes-dog-tags

‘And substitute regular milk for oat milk please.’

You type a quick ‘okay’ to your sister as you head to the coffee shop that you frequent almost every day. Today’s weather is sort of gloomy but nice. Lately it’s been rainy, mild showers and light thunderstorms. Your favorite kind of weather to have a latte while accompanied with a book. You scrub the bottom of your shoes against the coffee’s welcome mat to prevent tracking in mud or leaves.

“Good morning, welcome to Aristocrats!” You thank the familiar barista as you head to the counter pulling out your phone to order both drinks.

“What can I get you?” The barista asks with a smile on their face.

“Can I get a hot vanilla latte with 2 shots of espresso and oatmilk?” The employee mumbles the order back as they input it into the system as you continue.

“I also would like an iced chai latte with 3 pumps of brown sugar syrup instead of vanilla. As well as one shot of espresso, thank you.” You put your phone away as you get your wallet out from your bag.

“$15.28, cash or card?” The barista asks as you hand them your card to swipe.

You find a few dollar bills stashed in your bag as you drop it into the tip jar.

“Thank you, just give us a few minutes.” Handing you the card back you put it back into its usual spot as you crumble the receipt into the bag.

One of the reasons why you love this coffee shop isn’t just for the drinks but the book collection they have along with the scenery. It’s located downtown with windows that face the street that pour in natural light. The owner kept most of its natural architecture. Which included the layout, windows that surround the building on two walls, as well as the little fireplace that runs on cold days.

As you wait for the drinks you browse a few magazines near a table before you find one that peaks your interest. You situate yourself near a bar in front of the front facing windows to take advantage of the light that projects in. You flip through the first couple pages not caring for the luxurious ads of Gucci or Louis Vuitton. You never understood why anyone would spend thousands on a bag. You ignore the bell above the door that signals a customer as you continue reading about a woman’s divorce and her advice. While you have never been married it’s interesting to read about people’s lives.

“Here you go, hot vanilla latte and an iced chai.” The barista sets the drinks down as you reply with a thank you.

You look towards the counter as you spot a man ordering. Something along the lines of an americano. Typical. Men never go for good drinks. Reaching for your drink you realize you forgot a straw. Getting up you head to the side of the counter to grab one. As you begin to reach for one another, one hand is trying to grab a cocktail straw for their drink.You quickly retreat your hand back apologizing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” You say, embarrassed as if you were in his space.

“No troubles, you’re fine.” You turn to him finally getting a good look at him as he does the same.

“Oh shit, hey kid. How’ve you been?” It’s Bucky, your sister's ex-boyfriend. His eyes light up as he smiles at you. Like he’s excited to see you.

“I’ve been good. I finished up my last semester early. In December I graduated well. I didn't walk but I received the diploma which is just as good.” He crosses his arms as he listens to you furrowing his eyebrows that he always used to when listening intently.

He smiles as he lightly pats your upper arm in congratulations, “Hey that's great, really, you find any jobs or anything yet?”

“No, I mean I have but the pay is so shit that it’s not even worth it.” He nods understanding the job market has plummeted.

“I get that, if I hadn’t secured the job I have now a few years ago I probably would be back in school not knowing what to do.” Bucky came from an affluent family. His family always had money due to businesses, properties, and of course trusts and estates. His comment comes off a little tone deaf but you know he means well just trying to relate.

“Thanks,” he says as he grabs the drink from the barista as he begins adding a little packet of heavy cream.

“You stay around here? Or often?” He questions out of curiosity but also a small part of him hopes you say yes.

“Oh yeah. I moved back in with my parents after college. I mean- I don’t have a job so I really had no choice.” You hope you don’t sound like a complete fool of yourself. No job, living with parents, and your daily activities consist of getting coffee and reading.

“You’re still figuring it out, there’s no time limit.” His words comfort you, making you feel less alone. Even if he can’t exactly relate, it’s still nice to have someone understand your struggles.

Bucky continues to ask, “If you got a few minutes, you mind if we sit and catch up?” You smile and nod, letting out a small yes as you lead him to your little nook.

You're laughing at some story he’s telling from a recent event he went to where a kid found drawing on the walls of an art exhibit.

“Oh no, did the parents do anything?” You ask taking a sip of your mostly watered down chai.

“God no, remember these people think that their kids can do no wrong. Instead the dad threw him over his shoulder as they left quickly.” His answer made you shake your head wondering how parents never discipline their children.

“What have you been up to? Last thing I heard you were supposed to be taking over the family business.” The family business was just that- business. It was just managing properties, selling, and trading. But it brought in so much revenue. It’s the most popular realtor company in the state along with locations in neighboring states. It was started in the 40’s by Bucky’s great great grandfather and has now succeeded multiple generations.

“I have, well not entirely. I told my dad that I wanted to travel some first before settling with the job. Once you’re in that position all you can do is live for work, live to work. It just seems exhausting.” He sighs as he runs his hand through his short hair.

“You know I have a degree in Architecture, and I want to put that to use but my dad keeps pressuring me to take over the business. The money is good-

You cut him off,“But is it worth it? Money is great but if you aren’t happy with your job or what you do, no amount of money can compare to your happiness.”

“Yes, exactly. I’ve been sort of going back and forth on it but maybe I just need to go with what I want rather than what someone else wants.” Saying the quiet part outloud made Bucky realize that he wants to do what makes him happy regardless of money or fortune.

“You know you’re pretty insightful for your age. I wish I was like that when I was in my early 20s. But you seem so grounded. That’s very admirable Y/N.” The compliment causes your heart to skip a beat. You usually don’t get too many compliments, especially not on your mental or emotional intelligence.

“Thank you, it’s probably the books and because I’m the youngest child.” Your sister and you have a 10 year age gap that didn’t really help form a sibling relationship until you entered high school.

You weren’t planned which resulted in a little bit (a lot) of negligence from your parents. They had albums of pictures of her, always went to her events, and constantly doted on her. You were the youngest and the last. You were often thought of last. If you wanted them to make it to your events, school lunches, or any activity they'd send your grandparents. Which you became very close with at a young age because they noticed the difference between you and your sister. They never made you feel like a burden or second thoughts. You’ll always be grateful for that. Your parents apologized to you when you were older but the childhood trauma still stuck.

“I forgot you guys did have an age gap. I guess it’s more noticeable when you were younger.” His comment glides over, not caring to bring up your sister, his ex-girlfriend. Which you’re kind of happy about since he asked to catch up with you and he genuinely meant it.

Before he can get another word in your phone lights up, your sister is calling.

“You need to get that?” Bucky asks, noticing the screen.

“Yeah probably.” You sigh internally knowing that the coffee catch up is ending soon.

You swipe on the screen as you hold up a finger to give you a second.

“Where are you? It’s been an hour, I thought you said you were just getting coffee, not running errands.” Her voice is a little upset and can be heard by Bucky which makes you cringe a little.

“I’m sorry, I ran into someone and wanted to catch up.” Yeah her ex who you seem to be getting along with a little too well.

“It’s fine. I just didn’t know where my coffee was. Or you.” The last part was thrown in quickly to save herself. You know she doesn’t mean to be rude but that’s just how she can be.

“I’ll be home soon, sorry for taking so long. I didn’t realize how long I was out.” You really didn’t mean to take so long but the conversation lasted longer than expected.

The phone beep indicates a hang up as her reply.

“I’m sorry, I guess I got to go. But it was really nice seeing you again.” You stand up to gather your belongings.

“I really enjoyed it. I had a nice time, I really needed it.” Bucky meant what he said. It had been a while since he had a genuine conversation that wasn’t about work or mundane questions.

“Maybe we can catch up again, I mean I obviously don’t work so I’m always free.” You're hopeful that he’ll agree instead of it just being a one time occurrence.

“You have my number still? Or can I get yours?” You shake your head not remembering if your phone transferred his contact from the last time you updated it.

He grabs his phone to unlock it and lets you type in your number. Once you save your contact you head towards the door,“I got to run, but like I said just message me whenever you’re free. I can always make time.” I can always make time for you is what you wanted to say but bit your tongue instead.

“For sure, I’ll text you soon.” He promises as he watches you walk out of the small coffee shop knowing he’s already forming a liking to you.

It’s been a few months since you ran into Bucky at the coffee shop. Since that day you guys had been messaging non stop. Which quickly turned into late night phone calls that made your stomach hurt from laughing and cheeks sore from smiling. You only get together once a week since he’s still helping his dad and it took up most of his day. But he never fails to call or message you throughout the day to let you know what he’s up to. You’ve learned a lot from each other these past few months. He loves classic cars, museums, and fashion. He doesn’t care much for the bars but will go when his friends plan to. He designs a lot and is great at drawing too. He enjoys taking you out to museums, botanicals, and lately since the weather is better he’s taken you on hike trails. In return you’ve introduced him to books you enjoy and have started listening to audiobooks together. You’ve also found out how to make your own coffee. Bucky has an espresso machine in his condo that he never used. But together you guys figured out how to make your favorite drinks. Though you still go to the same coffee shop for convenience. It’s been a week since you’ve hung out and you expect a hangout session is due.

It’s morning when you get an unexpected call from Bucky. You answer without hesitation excited to hear his voice.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask as you sit on your bed anticipating his message.

“What are you doing?” He sounds like he has a smile on his face, which you picked up quickly through the phone calls how his voice and facial expressions match.

“Nothing, just at home.” You look over at the clock next to you flashing 9:52 a.m.

“Would you be opposed to packing a bag and going to the next state over?” At first you thought he was joking until he said “you there?”

“No, I mean yes that sounds fun.I’d love to tag along” You say quickly gathering yourself.

“Perfect. I can be there in an hour. Just got to drop off a few things for my dad and I’ll be on the way. You won’t need much, just a few things to last a night or so. Oh and pack a nice dress, I want to take you on a date.” Your heart flutters at the word date, he hadn’t used that word yet, neither have you. It was sort of a weird territory but this solidified there is more.

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then!” You hang up letting the phone fall on the bed as you rush to get ready and pack looking forward to the night.

You arrived around a little after 3 in the next state. But since you couldn’t check in until 4 o’clock Bucky showed you a few places around the city. You ventured into antique shops, locally owned book shops, and of course you had to try a coffee shop. He offered to buy you whatever you wanted and insisted that you had to pick out at least one thing that he could buy you or else you couldn’t leave the store. You opted for a few books (it was five in total of hardcover books you could never find near you and were too expensive to order online). He seemed pleased to be funding your reading addiction.

You check your phone’s time making sure you’re not late getting ready. Bucky said to be ready by 6:45 and you’re cutting it close at 6:30 trying to finish a few makeup touch ups. And you haven’t even gotten dressed yet. Bucky left the room an hour ago so you could get ready in private. He didn’t want to intrude on your space saying that ‘I know how women are. My mom always enjoyed getting ready alone because she didn’t want to feel rushed.’ He was right, if he was in the same room you’d feel like you would have to get ready quickly.

You curse trying to get your heels ons as you lace up the second heel trying to secure it as much as possible so you wouldn’t fall. As you’re finishing up and repacking your makeup to clean up the area the door clicks open as Bucky walks in. You turn to him hoping he likes it. It’s nothing extravagant to you compared to their style. It’s a black strapless elongated dress tailored to your height. A narrow slit starts from the upper thigh opening towards the bottom.

“Wow, you look incredible. I mean not that you don’t always look good but today, tonight you just look exceptional.” You try not to smile at his words but fail. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him flustered.

“Thank you, is this too much? It’s my old winter formal dress but I didn’t have time to get a new one.” You hope your attire suits the restaurant dress code. The last thing you want to do is embarrass yourself in front of him.

“No, you look perfect. It’s perfect.” He’s matching with black slacks, sweater, and a long peabody coat.

“I can say the same for you, I like the monochromatic look. It suits you.” Your comment makes him smile as it means a lot coming from you.

“I wanted to look my best for you.” He checks his watch, noticing the time,”we should probably head down. The valet is waiting for us.” He holds out his hand as you accept it.

The waiter sat you at a booth per Bucky’s request. You’re glad to sit to relieve pressure off your feet. You only walked a little but the heels are skinny and feel like they’re stabbing your feet. Bucky orders drinks for you as you look at the menu. It’s limited but that’s how most fine dining restaurants operate.

“I want you to get whatever you want. My treat.” You don’t say thank you this time. “Don’t worry, I will.” Your reply comes out teasingly creates a smirk on his face knowing that you’re comfortable around him and letting him treat you accordingly..

The finished entrees have been pushed to the side leaving waiting to be picked up as you listen to him talk about this week's work load. Your phone interrupts him mid sentence as a message comes through from your sister. He doesn’t mean to pry, it was in the middle of the table after all.

“Do you need to get that?” He asks politely knowing that he’d give you all the time you needed.

You check it before answering him.

‘Hey, just checking on you, hope you’re doing okay. It feels like we haven’t talked in a little bit.’ For a second you feel bad. But you also know she only comes around when you don’t make plans or reach out first. You are always chasing and you hate forcing things, especially familial ties. It’s also not just that, that makes you feel bad. You’re sitting across from her ex-boyfriend who she dated for 4 years who she thought she was going to marry. Given it’s been two years since they’ve broken up. Now you’re sitting here wondering if you should leave for her sake or stay for what your heart wants.

“No it’s fine, just something with my sister.” He must’ve noticed your demeanor change as he grabs your hand from the table. He rubs his thumb across your hand soothing you.

“I get it, this situation isn’t ideal nor normal in a sense. It’s confusing, conflicting. Like you're questioning yourself what's right and wrong or too far. If you want me to take you home tonight and never speak again I understand. But I will say regardless of what happens after tonight. It’s up to you. It’s your feelings I respect ultimately. But I want you to know, I’d regret it if I don’t at least try. Because even though it’s only been a few months since we reconciled, I finally got to know someone that I have never met. Emotionally and mentally you captivate me in a way no one else has. Someone that actually listens to me, understands me, and wants me for me, not for what I have. I would be a fool not to chase someone like that regardless of who they're tied to.” He takes a small breath before finishing, “I don’t want to imagine a life without you. If it’s not you then I don’t want anyone. Above all I don’t want to walk away from tonight without telling you how I feel. What I feel is you, you make up my thoughts, I see you in my future. I’d do anything to prove that love I have for you. Even if it means allowing you to walk away tonight. Because you’re the most important thing to happen to me in a long time. The last thing I’d want to do is hurt you or make you choose something you aren’t ready for. I’m here for you even if you walk away, I’ll always come to you if you need me.”

His eyes are a little teary as he cups your hand with both of his hands and kisses it.

“You don’t have to make up your mind right n-” He’s cut off by you.

You interrupt him as you lean closer to the table with a shaky breath.“I don’t want to live a life I regret. Especially regretting someone that I could have a life with but chose not to out of fear or for someone else's feelings. I don’t know where life is supposed to lead me but I know I want it with you. Most people follow through with decisions based on what’s most logical but I choose my heart. And my heart wants you.”

He leans over the table as you meet him halfway to kiss him. Letting his lips envelope yours, soft and plump like you imagined. It’s sweet and gentle like him. You pull away from the short kiss wishing it lasted longer but you’re also in public.

“So you for sure don’t want to go home?” He asks one more time knowing your answer.

“Not unless it’s with you.”

No words are exchanged as you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, one of your legs is on his shoulder as he takes off your shoe. As he unties the last heel he kisses from your ankle to your thigh. Moving upwards to the wetness between your thighs. You lay back on the bed allowing for more access. He kneels on the floor, grabbing your ass and pulling it closer to him for better positioning. Your dress is pushed up, bunched around your waist as he pulls your panties off. He throws them to the side discarding them. You feel his breath on your pussy for a second before he kisses it. He gives the mound and lips little kisses teasing you as you wait for him to give you more. Shivers run down your spine as you feel his tongue on your slit. He flattens it to cover the whole area, licking a few times. Savoring the taste of you. He takes your swollen clit into his mouth to gently suck on. You can feel your clit pulsate as his tongue teases the little nub. Flicking it and rubbing it in a circle with his tongue. Causing your hands to find his hair as you grip it and grind against his face. His hand reaches between your thighs as he rubs the soft skin gently before he runs two fingers over your wet pussy. A moan escapes your mouth as you feel his hand on your wet cunt. Once his fingers are wet, he uses one finger to open you up. Allowing you to get used to the feeling before he adds another. Another finger joins the first stretching you. It gives you some relief as you rock yourself on his fingers a little as he begins to lap at your clit. Tonguing the nerve as he finger fucks your small hole.

“Your fingers feel so good.” You moan gripping his hair.

He removes his face from your pussy, “you taste amazing. Just as I thought” He gets back to his feet to lean over you as he begins to furiously fuck you on his fingers. You’re cursing at him as he continues, loving the sounds you’re making and faces you make when you’re being pleasured. You place your fingers on your clit as you feel yourself getting close. Rubbing circles and other motions to aid in relief. You’re begging him at this point whimpering knowing how close you are. He adds one more finger stretching you beyond belief knowing that you can take it

“You’re taking my fingers so well I can’t imagine how good it’ll feel on my dick.” . He says as he guides you while you’re cumming. Letting you know how good you are and how pretty you are.

He waits a few more seconds before he pulls out his fingers leaving you empty. He gets off the bed to take off the rest of his clothes, swiftly undoing his buckle and pants to reveal a very prominent hard-on. You move closer to the headboard to get more comfortable as you wait for his return.

“I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t planning on having sex.” He’s on the bed again rubbing his cock trying to relieve the pressure.

“I don’t care, I just want you inside me.” Your voice is needy as he grins before he’s quickly in between your legs again.

He rubs his cock up and down your slit. Letting the juices coat the tip. He teases the clit for a second until you whine wanting him inside you. He lines his cock up at your entrance with one hand letting the tip slowly enter. He looks at you, watching your face to make sure he’s not hurting you. You gasp as he slides in, his length completely filling you up.

“You doing okay?” You nod as he waits for a second before moving.

His thrusts are gentle to not hurt your cervix. He knows his size is above average and easy to bruise if too rough. He leans down to kiss you, one hand on your hip, the other on your face. His kiss is hungry and rough compared to his thrusts.

“I’ve been waiting for this. Dreaming about this.” He says moaning into your mouth.

“I know, I’ve cum to you so many times.” You confess.

“I can’t count the times you’ve made me hard by just being next to you.” His pace quickens up which makes you grip his biceps.

“Fuck.” You draw out the word as he continues pounding.

He grabs your legs, bending your knees to your chest. This position leaves you completely folded, breathless, with how deep he is.

‘Fuck you’re so big Bucky.” You say throwing your head back.

“Maybe your cunt is just too tiny then. Maybe I just need to keep stretching you out then so you don’t forget who you belong to.” He leans his head down to watch his cock retreat in and out of your hole. Mesmerized by the wetness glistening on his cock.

He bites his lip as he slowly pulls out almost all the way, just to thrust back in. He loves watching your face as he’s inside you. Your little sounds and whimpers almost send him over the edge entirely with how sweet you are. You move your hips against his cock, meeting his thrusts. You’re so wet you can’t even tell if you’ve already cum or not. Sweat is building up on his forehead as you watch him pound into you. You know he’s close by the erratic thrusts.

“Where can I cum?” He asks, needing an answer quickly or else he’s about to make you a milf.

“Inside me. I’m on birth control.” He moans leaning down to kiss you as his thrusts speed up and his body shakes. Your walls grip him tightly as he spills his seed inside of you. Filling your cunt until it’s dripping.

Once he’s finished he gets a warm rag to clean you up. Letting the warmness soothe your now aching core.

“I love you” Bucky says as he doesn’t care to look for a ‘right time’ anymore.

“I love you too.” You really do.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #draftsandrecs #bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfiction

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shimishimii · 8 months ago

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rich ginger, eight figure, that's my type

⟿ wc; 407

⟿ Childe x gn reader ; fluff

⟿ my hc is Childe's great at making money but not at managing it, when you tell him he's like a sugar daddy, he takes it as a compliment

good thing Childe has a lot of money, because he’s bad at keeping them.

“If this goes there or that goes this”

“What? ….whaaaaaat????” childe complains, grabbing the notebook. “where did these numbers come from???”

There’s a quiz in accounting tomorrow and if he is on the way to failing, well he might, if you weren’t there for him.

“wasn’t it add and subtract only?” he scans the pages, wondering where’d all these problems came from. He already has a lot, why would they add more?

“Yes, but with letters and lot more tweaks”

“Why do even people put letters with numbers?” Childe gives up.

“You obviously didn’t listen to the introduction during lectures” you say with a light chuckle and Childe could just kiss your right now if he does not need to break these cryptic math conundrums, which you call word problems.

He complains, “the calculator can do it for me,” his confidence is unfazed since he passed the previous term relying on his instinct and sheer luck.

“Unfortunately, because of your financial decisions, I am doing it for you,” you reply “go on and thank the calculator, not your partner keeping your bank account sane” you took his notebook from him and gave a sarcastic smile.

Truthfully, he really doesn’t count his money, expenses do not seem to matter to him. During your first month of dating, you were baffled why he is not getting broke. Childe would even go off swiping his card left and right.

‘Money can’t buy happiness, but at least I can buy the things that makes you happy, which makes me happy too’, that’s what he says.

Thankfully, you are there, reminding him to spend wisely as much as you can. You tell him to pay attention to his financial management while keeping track of receipts during dates and making sure nothing goes off past his savings.

Honestly, Childe is actually wary of his expenses, and amazingly proficient with stock market. He makes sure he gets decent earning.

Besides, how could he not help himself spend a little more than the ‘20%’ rule when he sees your eyes light up at some plushie? or when you ramble how you want to get a certain character but gacha system sucks? or that new shade of lipbalm you want to try?

Surely, a good boyfriend should do something right? Wait until you hear a new bank account he opened and filled just for you.

#genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x you #childe x reader #childe x you #childe fluff #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x gn reader #childe x gn reader #keybored

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maraschinomerry · 2 years ago

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Distracted

Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

Summary: Locked in a room with the boy who has the relic you've been hunting, you try whatever you can to get it back.

Content: fight scene, flirting and making out, a bit suggestive but nothing explicit

A/N: requested by @superpositvecloudshipper - hope you like it! Also can you tell it's my day off with the way this is my third fic in less than 12 hours lol

Word count: 1.9k

As yet another auction came to an abrupt end, the crowded room filling with screams and alarms, Lockwood began to wonder if he was developing a track record.

He was there for a book, written at the very beginning of the Problem, which George insisted would be invaluable in the case they'd just accepted and which DEPRAC were determined to put into secure storage. Nobody had seen it for years, but a week ago it had been listed as the star item at Fothergills Auction House. It wasn't anything as serious as the Bone Glass, but the team had still had to blag their way into the auction with a pocket of tricks each and an unofficial nod from Barnes to do whatever was necessary to prevent the book from winding up on the black market.

So it was that Lockwood found himself surging through the throng of panicked auction-goers, scrambling to escape Lucy's recently detonated smoke bomb. He could barely see through the mass of bodies, made worse by the cloud of dark grey fumes and the pulsing red light of the alarm system. It was only a matter of time before the sprinklers activated. He had to get the book before then.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted an unusual movement - another figure fighting against the tide of bodies. Probably a relic man with more greed than sense, but at least they'd thought to put their hood up and draw a scarf across their mouth to protect against the smoke. Lockwood pressed forward with increasing urgency.

He reached the podium seconds before the mysterious figure, snatching the book and giving in to the urge to throw his pursuer a triumphant grin. They swore, drowned out by the alarm as it shifted in pitch to indicate the activation of the water sprinklers. Lockwood tucked the book into his coat and bolted for the nearest door, the other person hot on his heels.

Overhead, an automated voice alternated with the alarms.

"Defence alert. Room cleared. Initiating lockdown procedure."

Oh no.

—

You forced your way through the crowd, eyes trained on the book. It would fetch you a pretty penny and give you an advantage over a group of relic men who were giving you grief. As you reached the podium, you stumbled to a halt at the sight of a scrawny dark-haired boy clutching the book. Your book. You scowled, expression deepening as he gave you a bright victory smirk. Well, that was that. No way were you letting him leave here without getting the book. As he sprinted for the door on the left, you followed.

Too late, you realised the door the boy ahead had chosen was not the one for the offices, but for a storage cupboard which would usually have held the items for auction but now was almost bare. Too late, you noticed there were no other doors or windows, just the one that had now sealed behind you.

"I swear," he growled, hand on his rapier, "don’t come any closer. There's nowhere to go and I've fought enough relic men that if you want to get out of here alive you'll keep your distance."

You scoffed, a higher sound than Lockwood was expecting.

"Excuse you, relic man? Presumptuous much?" As you spoke, your scarf shifted to reveal plump red lips, and in one smooth movement you tugged down your hood, scooping the mane of windswept hair it concealed into a messy ponytail.

Lockwood froze for a second before switching on his trademark charisma. No sense in making enemies straight away, besides the more he looked the more he realised there was little room to use his rapier without risking self-injury.

"I meant no offence, I thought Flo Bones was the only relic woman."

You'd heard of Flo, of course, but didn't run in the same circles. She was a one-man, well, one-woman band, except for whoever this guy was it seemed. You tended to keep to yourself, but occasionally took advantage of the more simpering relic men who were so desperate for a woman to look their way that they'd give you anything, making you the leather-clad rogue to Flo's knitted outcast.

"Easy mistake to make, darling, but it won't happen again." You returned his charm with your own, thinly veiling the threat behind your words. "Just give me the book and we can both go on our merry ways."

"I don't think so." He dropped the act in a flash, gripping the book.

Your scowl returned. "Fine. That door's not budging, so I've got time to change your mind."

Without warning, you lunged, catching him off-guard enough that he almost lost his footing. To your dismay, he recovered quickly, pushing you back to give him time to adopt a defensive stance. He was trained, then. Probably from agent work, judging by the rapier. By the book, though. Time to see if he fought dirty.

A scroll of paper was about the only thing left on the shelf beside you, but it would have to do. With a grunt, you tossed it past his shoulder, and as he watched it sail past (no doubt questioning your aim, as you'd planned), you used his distraction to slip closer and force him backwards into a shelf. He cried out as the metal bit into his back and for a moment you hesitated. The boy was only young, he looked about your age, and he wasn't bad looking at that. You could have been in his place in another life, or he in yours. Or both of you on the same team, fighting off some other scoundrel. Unknowingly, you eased off the pressure on his shoulders.

Big mistake.

Lockwood shoved you once more, finally deciding to bring the fight to him and reaching for his rapier. You couldn't allow that, but you were running out of ideas. So you did the only thing you could think of: whipped off your jacket and hurled it directly at his face. The boy was quick, though, you had to give him credit, as he batted it away like a pesky fly. Suddenly he was in your space, hands locking around your now bare wrists and foot snaking out to knock your feet from under you. You fell, unable to stop yourself, but with his grip still on you he lowered you almost gently to the floor, arms pinned above your head and his weight straddling your thighs to keep you from lashing out. He did fight dirty. Interesting.

Your breath was heavy, both from the fight and from finding yourself in such close quarters with the young man. With nowhere to turn, you finally got a proper look at your rival. His dark eyes were trained on you, filled with a mixture of anger, respect and something else. His previously coiffed hair now fell haphazardly across his forehead, and his face was flushed. Still had that insufferable smirk, though.

"I think," you paused to catch your breath, "we got off on the wrong foot. Care to start again?" Your hands were still pinned, hanging loosely against the cold stone floor, but you brought one up in as close to a handshake as circumstances would allow. He didn't take it.

"Who are you?" he asked bluntly.

"Does it matter?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"What you want with the book."

"Let's call it personal insurance."

"I see."

"Do you, darling?" You'd met his type before - rich, cocky, scornful of anyone who'd fallen into the relic hunter lifestyle to keep themselves alive. Then again, he seemed to know that other girl Flo well enough, and he hadn't given any indication he disliked you beyond having the same target, and really it was very hard to form any other opinions of him when his pelvis was practically on top of yours.

He leaned a little closer, pressing your wrists more. "I'm not your darling, darling." The last word came out low and husky, and you resisted the urge to squirm beneath him. It wouldn't do to give him any more of an upper hand just yet, not that there was much more he could get.

"You could be, if you wanted, the position you're in." You'd been watching him through your lashes, but with those words you allowed your gaze to slide down to his lips as your own parted slightly.

Lockwood took the hint.

His kiss was passionate, almost frantic, and you returned it equally. To get low enough to reach your lips, his hips had bucked into yours, and as you gasped at the sensation his tongue darted in. He tasted like bergamot tea. One hand never left where he was keeping you pinned, but the other came round to support the small of your back as you arched into him. Eventually (it took him long enough, distracted as he was when you dragged your teeth across his lower lip), he realised he was supporting all his weight on your wrists, and he propped himself on his other hand and let go. With this newfound freedom, you pushed yourself off the ground, leaning into him until he was sitting back on his feet, your legs still under him but torsos upright and pressed together.

Now on a more even playing field, you were able to have a bit more fun. Not that you were going to complain about the original position, to be fair. It had certainly made things interesting. In the back of your mind you registered that the sirens outside had stopped, but you still had time to kill.

You slid your hands up his chest to the collar of his coat, sliding it down until it gathered around his remarkably firm biceps, then loosened his tie. All the while, your lips never left his, kissing him hungrily. He responded by reaching up and removing the tie from your hair. One hand travelled back down to your waist, the other twisted into your hair with a playful tug. You gasped against his mouth again, tugging his tie which brought him up off his heels. The pressure eased from your legs, and in one swift movement you pulled them through the gap.

As your legs disappeared from under him, Lockwood found himself leaning back with you taking position above. Your hair cascaded around your face, tickling his ears, and he broke the kiss for breath and to stare up at you in wonder. His hand left your hair to support himself, but you adjusted to balance yourself so your hands could slide into his coat and around his waist.

"Well, that's certainly not how I expected this auction to end, but I can't say I'm disappointed," he chuckled.

"Me neither." Behind you the door hissed as the automatic lock disengaged. Abruptly, Lockwood felt your hands retract from within his coat and he dropped painfully onto his elbows. You stood, brushing yourself off and retrieving your jacket, which you slung over your shoulder. At the same time as Lockwood realised his coat felt significantly lighter, he noticed the book tucked under your arm.

"This has been fun, we should do it again some time," you said with a wink as you stepped through the door.

Lockwood scrambled to his feet. By the time he made it to the doorway, the auction room was empty. You'd gone, and so had the book.

He didn't know which he was more disappointed about.

#lockwood & co x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood & co fanfic #fem reader #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood

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