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bella-rose29 · 1 year ago

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Relic (wo)man

requested by @superpositvecloudshipper: what about a relic hunter fem reader x Anthony lockwood where reader fights lockwood over an important relic in doing so he pulls off her hood revealing she's a girl which shocks him she runs off leaving relic with him, few days later she turns up at his door very much injured and he immediately helps her then asks why she came and she tells him she has nowhere else to go (all her family is dead expect her dad who is like the most dangerous relic hunter)

I hope this is what you had in mind my lovely! <3

Also I had genuinely no idea what to call this work and it's the first time this has happened (send help)

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: semi-graphic descriptions of violence, fighting, descriptions of a wound (and said wound being treated).

Tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @karensirkobabes, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @wandamaximoffbae, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

Anthony Lockwood of Lockwood & Co was an expert with the rapier, but anybody watching him now would never know.

He was flailing about, arms going everywhere as he attempted to block the attacks of his opponent, and he looked like an idiot.

Lucy was unable to help, being locked in her own fight against the undead, and George was at home, blissfully unaware of the entire situation. He was probably hunched over his research, warm mug of tea nearby and a biscuit stuffed into his mouth, and oh what Lucy wouldn't give to be sat next to him right now. Lockwood had been stupid (but then again, when was he not?), and while George had had sufficient time for his research, they hadn't predicted the arrival of relic men. Admittedly there was only the one, which Lockwood was fighting now, but it had thrown a spanner in the works. When they'd turned up at the scene to see somebody digging around in the dirt, Lucy had suggested they turn back and go back home to Portland Row, but Lockwood being Lockwood had charged forward and confronted the figure. He'd then been knocked on his ass, of course, and now the relic man was slashing two long daggers at him, hence the flailing rapier.

Lucy had then had to deal with the Visitor on her own; it was a fairly nice Type Two, as far as Type Twos went, but the extra backup would have been even nicer. It wasn't letting her get anywhere near the Source, so she was mostly trying to make it disappear for a few seconds so that she could run a little closer. She would run out of bombs and flares in a minute though, so hopefully Lockwood got a move on.

~~~

Lockwood was impressed. He'd never met a relic man that could fight as well as this one (not that he'd met that many, and really it was only Winkman and his lot that Lockwood had faced), and he was actually struggling to hold his own.

"Where'd you learn to fight?" he shouted, smile wide. "You're excellent!"

"And you're insane. This is my relic, so bugger-" he surged forward, daggers clashing with Lockwood's rapier in front of his face, "off!"

Lockwood stumbled back as the relic man pushed hard against his rapier, and he fought for a moment to stay upright. Distantly he recognised Lucy's shouts, and knew that he should go and help her, but the Source was so close, and if he could just get rid of the relic man, then he would be helping Lucy.

"Look," he said, slightly out of breath from the fight. "I need that Source to help my friend. If-"

"Don't care." He turned and ran to the Source, digging again. Lockwood stood with his mouth open, staring stupidly after him before rushing to stop the relic man running off with the artefact. He pushed him over, and then they were grappling on the floor, turning over each other as they landed punches and scrabbled in the dirt. His mask was coming loose, and just as Lockwood got on top ready to hold the relic man down while he chucked a net over the Source to bag it up and leave, the cloth slipped down, revealing his face.

Well, her face.

"You... You're a girl?"

"Problem with that? God, this is why I don't hang out with the others, sexist bastards," she grumbled to herself, and suddenly Lockwood wondered how the hell he'd thought her voice was male. She shoved him off, making him go flying and sprawling on the ground, and she stood up, hunching over to catch her breath.

"No, I didn't mean... I just was surprised, is all." He pushed himself off of the floor, stumbling slightly at the sharp stab of pain in his ribs. He winced, pressing a hand to his side to feel for any broken bones.

"Whatever. This is too much work for me. I was never here, alright?" She pointed a finger at him while pulling the mask back up over her face, and when he nodded his agreement she turned and fled. She really was an excellent fighter, and Lockwood couldn't help but feel a little sad to see her go. He bent to pick up the now-covered Source, hearing Lucy stomping over.

"What the hell were you doing?! Having a nice little chat?! I almost died, Lockwood! God, are you even listening to me?!"

"Yes, Lucy, I'm listening. I was right by the Source, trying to get it sorted for you. If I left to go fight the Visitor with you then we wouldn't have a Source, because she would have run off with it."

"She?"

"Turns out the relic man is a relic woman. I'd love to know where she learned to fight," he said, staring off in the direction that she had left.

Lucy scoffed. "Well don't start crushing on her just 'cause she can fight better than you, Lockwood. That will never go well."

"I'm not crushing on her, Luce."

"Sure. You also definitely don't have a dreamy look in your eyes right now."

"Shut up," he mumbled, face going pink. She was right, he had been staring dreamily into the distance, but only because it had been a while since he'd fought somebody so skilled.

Yeah, that was it.

~~~

A few days later the three members of Lockwood & Co were sat in the kitchen, cups of tea in hand as they finished up the last of the washing up from dinner. George, as always, had excelled himself, and Lockwood and Lucy were left holding their stomachs from how much they had eaten.

"You two always complain about eating too much, but if I don't cook enough then you complain that I'm neglecting you. Honestly, I feel like your mother," George said, turning around from where he stood at the sink. Lockwood and Lucy shared a look at his words, noting the blue rubber gloves and the apron, and tried not to laugh. George shook his head, taking off his gloves to leave them to drip dry as he sat at the table. They chatted for a while, partly about random things and partly about their next case, and eventually they all headed up to bed.

Well, nearly all.

Lockwood stayed in the library, catching up on some paperwork that he hadn't had time for earlier in the week, and it was nice and calm and quiet in there, perfect for stopping him from being distracted.

Apparently he had that thought too soon, as he'd barely settled in with a fresh cup of tea when the doorbell sounded, loud and obnoxious, making him nearly spill the hot liquid on his lap.

He hurried to the door, drawing his rapier from the stand just in case, and when he opened it a crack and saw the relic girl from the other night, smiling grimly up at him while she pressed her hands into her side (that looked shiny in the low light, which was worrying), he nearly fainted from shock.

"What... how do you know where I live?"

"I know a lot of things. Can I come in?"

"Uh, sure." He held the door open for her, and she stumbled inside, unsteady on her feet. Lockwood shut the door again, but not before a cursory look around to see if she'd been followed. Placing the rapier back in the stand he led her to the bathroom, telling her to sit on the toilet seat and hoping that George wouldn't walk in with no clothes on. He fetched the first aid kit out of the cupboard, turning around and immediately freezing when he saw that she had already stripped the first few layers of her clothing off. "What are you doing?"

She looked up at him, frown on her face. "I need to treat the wound. It's not gonna happen if I'm still dressed, is it?" She spoke to him like he was an idiot (which probably wasn't too far off the truth at this moment in time), and that shook him out of his stupor.

"Right, no, that's... that's fair." He swallowed thickly. Despite the sheer amount of charm he exuded on a daily basis, he'd never once had a proper relationship, let alone seen a girl... like this, and he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't nervous. He'd dressed Lucy's wounds for her sometimes, sure, but he'd also seen her as more of a sister the entire time he'd known her, many of her qualities reminding him of Jessica. This was entirely different.

"You just gonna stand there like a lemon, or are you gonna help?"

He helped her peel off the remaining layer, wincing when she sucked the air through her teeth as it got stuck to the wound, and gently cut the fabric off so that she didn't have to lift her arms to get the shirt off.

"Why did you come here?"

"Figured you'd be one of those people that can't say no to helping someone. Besides, I've got nowhere else to go. Family's all dead, 'cept for my dad, but he wouldn't give a shit."

"Why not?"

"Because he's an arsehole. More interested in profit than his own bloody daughter."

"Is that why you're a relic hunter?"

"Yep. Family business. Dad had me put in training soon as I could walk. Got good quickly. Eventually nobody was good enough to fight me, so fighting you was quite nice, actually. You're not awful."

"Thanks," he said, mind going a million miles an hour to figure out who her father might be as he cleaned out the wound. He was perched on the edge of the bathtub, and the angle was awkward.

"Ow, fuck, don't poke it, you idiot!"

"Sorry, sorry!" They sat in silence for a little longer, her heavy breaths the only sound. "I don't... I don't know your name."

"Y/n. L/n." Lockwood paused, glancing up at her. L/n? Weren't they even worse than the Winkmans?

"Who hurt you then? Because if you're the same L/n's that kill competitors by gouging out their eyeballs and making them eat them then who the fuck got close enough to stab you?"

She smiled, a bright beaming one that had Lockwood's heart skipping a beat. "You know about that?" He nodded. "Awesome! I'll be sure to tell Dad that we've worked our reputation into the world of stuck up pricks!"

He laughed, annoyed that this relic girl was making him like her, and went back to her wound. "You still haven't answered my question."

She was quiet for a while, whether from the pain or because she was thinking about what to say he wasn't sure.

"Julius Winkman. Didn't see it coming because he's one of my Dad's closest associates, so I got close. Stupid, really. Should never get close enough to anyone for them to be able to hurt you unless you know that you can do it faster. He was pissed off about something, I don't remember what now, but I only saw the knife when he'd stuck it in my side." Lockwood was quiet now, his focus mostly on finishing up his work on her wound, but apparently Y/n didn't like that. "I thought you had a reputation for incessant chatter?"

"What? That's ridiculous. I would never chatter incessantly." She snorted, the action jolting her side and making Lockwood huff in irritation. "Could you stay still? I don't want to mess this up." His fingers were gentle as he pressed the bandage over her wound, and Y/n couldn't stop the blush that spread over her cheeks. Looking at him now, her heart fluttered at seeing this random boy that barely knew her being so determined to look after her; she'd never had anybody care for her like this, given she'd grown up surrounded by cut-throat criminals, and the experience wasn't one she hated.

"Sorry," she muttered, moving her gaze to look around the room instead of the young agent who had his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. It was messy in the bathroom, evidence of multiple people living in the house, and Y/n felt a pang in her chest when she realised how similar her own house had been when her mother and siblings were still alive.

"There, all done." He leaned back on the bathtub edge, satisfied smile on his face as he admired his handiwork. "Should be good as new soon."

"Thanks, doc," she joked, revelling in his responding chuckle. She stood up, wincing slightly when the wound sent a sharp pain through her body in protest, and picked up her clothes to put back on. She didn't make it that far, however, Lockwood putting his hand in the way and looking conflicted. "What?"

"I just... There's not much point in putting them on now, right? I mean, I just cleaned and dressed your wound and you want to put dirty clothes back on top?"

"Oi, these dirty clothes are my everyday clothes, thank you very much."

"I didn't mean it like that, I just meant that surely putting dirty clothes over a clean wound sort of defeats the purpose of cleaning the wound?"

"Oh. I s'pose. But I don't have anything else, and I am not walking the streets of London in the dark in my bra." His face went pink as he remembered the lack of clothes on her body, and Y/n couldn't help but think he looked adorable like that.

"I've got a spare t-shirt and hoodie, if you like? Just until you can get your own clean clothes on, of course; I'm expecting mine back."

"Sure," she shrugged, and Lockwood felt his face heat up even more at the idea of her wearing his clothes. He led her quietly to his room, trying to not think about how it would look if George or Lucy woke up and saw them, and pulled out some spare clothes.

"Here. I'll take those and put them in a bag or something so you don't have to worry about dropping anything. I'll be downstairs." She handed him the dirty clothes and took his clean ones with a small smile, and Lockwood all but sprinted out of his room and down the staircase when he felt the butterflies in his stomach at the sight.

A few minutes later, Y/n padded downstairs, eerily silent despite the thick boots she was wearing. She startled Lockwood when she entered the kitchen, and then again when she wrapped him in a hug. He stood looking stupid for a moment, arms slightly out in surprise and unsure where to go, but he quickly collected himself and hugged back, careful not to touch her side.

"You alright?" he whispered, not wanting to speak too loudly in the peaceful kitchen.

"Mmhmm," she replied, although it was muffled since her head was smushed into his chest. She pulled back slightly, keeping her arms around him. "Thank you," she said, and Lockwood was taken aback at the amount of sincerity in her expression.

"Anytime. Seriously, you ever need a fully qualified doctor again, I'm happy to provide my services."

"Fully qualified doctor? Surprised you haven't put it on the sign outside the door."

"Well, I can't have everybody knowing, can I? I'm a bespoke service, catering to only the most important of customers," he smiled down at her softly. She giggled, little snorts escaping, and Lockwood found it overwhelmingly adorable.

"I should go, Lockwood," she said when she'd calmed down. He nodded.

"Of course. And-" he broke off, contemplating his words. "And just Anthony is fine." What was he doing, telling this random relic girl to call him by his first name? He'd known her for a total of roughly an hour, and he was already saying things like this?

"Anthony," Y/n said, trying the name out. He couldn't deny how incredible it sounded when she said the word, and Y/n couldn't deny how much she liked saying it.

He walked her to the door, helping her shrug her thick coat on, and bid her goodnight. She returned the sentiment, but not before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

"See you later, Anthony." And she was down the stairs and out the front gate, disappearing down the street. Lockwood could only stand and stare after her in shock, fingers gently brushing the place her lips had been a few moments ago.

Lucy was going to have a field day when she found out.

#anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #lockwood netflix #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood & co #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you

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tala-bez-i · 3 months ago

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At first sight Chapter Forty-One

(m!reader x Bonten!Haruchiyo Sanzu)

Fluff/slash/reader is male/cursing/BontenTimeline/drugs and alcohol mentioned/violence/blood/death

All characters that appeared in the Tokyo Revengers manga and anime belong to Ken Wakui.

Words: 3490

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It was well after midnight when you finished reading and comparing all the police reports your sister had given you. Some of them had a few handwritten notes on them, but the most interesting thing for you was the last page in the cardboard folder.

It contained a list of confirmed and potential hideouts of Yuji L/n that the police had managed to determine so far, as well as the ones that Tomoko suspected after reading the same documents you had in front of you.

You decided that this was information that would be worth sharing with Sanzu, sending people to check out these apartments scattered around the surrounding cities for you.

You leaned back in your chair and rubbed your eyelids, sighing slightly. You were starting to feel tired again and you knew that a third cup of coffee wouldn't do any good. You looked at the phone that had been silent until now and began to wonder again why Sanzu hadn't shown up yet.

Had he changed his mind and gone to his apartment after meeting with Mikey?

Before you made the decision to dial his phone number, you heard the front door to your house open and just after closing it, someone dropped the keys on the floor. You heard a curse and a giggle that you knew very well.

You got up from behind your desk and went to the office door to check what state Sanzu was in, but you only managed to see a fragment of his pant leg as the man went up the stairs to the floor.

“Sanzu?” You called from downstairs and your partner walked down a few steps, surprise written all over his face.

"You do not sleep?" He asked. “It's almost 1 a.m...”

“I was working on the reports from Tomoko.” You looked at him more closely and the corners of your mouth twitched upwards slightly. Not only had he taken drugs, but he had clearly been drinking alcohol. “I guess you had a good time, hmm?”

“Excellent.” He answered you with a wide smile and a twinkle in his eyes. His pupils were dilated, and he seemed re-energized. “We got two new girls today as debt repayment. Seriously, families give away such little diamonds for such ridiculously small amounts of money.”

He leaned against the railing and looked deep into your eyes. “Of course, we had to check how much they were really worth.”

You shook your head, knowing full well what that meant. “And?”

Sanzu pursed his lips slightly and rolled his eyes. “They’ll learn. Until then, they will practice a lot.” His pale pink lips stretched into a mischievous smirk and he gently ran his fingers through your hair. “Did you find anything useful?”

“Yes. I have a list of his current addresses and more where he could have potential hideouts.” You explained and the man nodded.

Suddenly he grabbed your face with one hand and dug his fingers into your cheeks. You looked at him in surprise, his face expressed coldness and concentration, his eyes calmly moving over your face.

“One more time, I will see or find out in another way...” He leaned forward slightly, a cold warning echoing in his voice. “That you went to that fucking store alone while that slut works there...” He smiled, pulling you closer. “Then believe me, I won't be as nice as I am now. Do we understand each other, honey?”

“Yes.” You replied, trying to stay completely calm. “I'm sorry.”

Sanzu loosened his grip on his fingers and moved his hand to your cheek, giving the gesture a tender look. His other hand brushed the loose strands of your hair away from your forehead and rested on your other cheek.

“Don’t let me down, Y/n.” He said in a quieter voice. “I agreed to make a concession and share you with your immediate family. No one else has the right to flirt with you, and you, my sweet lover, have no right to respond to such advances. Do you understand?”

“Absolutely. Forgive me, Sanzu.”

He leaned over the railing even more and kissed your forehead, sending a shiver down your spine. You knew what Haruchiyo was capable of, and you also knew that he wouldn't hesitate to hurt you if he saw even the slightest sign of any betrayal.

He caressed your cheeks and looked at you again, this time his smile was more genuine, and gentle.

“Well then. We will go to the hideout tomorrow and give Mikey everything that Ko-chan gave you.” He took his hands away and gestured for you to go upstairs with him. "Now, it's time to go to bed. You need to get some sleep, because tomorrow I have to visit a few places, and you'll be my companion."

You obediently followed his instructions and half an hour later you were both already lying in your bed and you, looking at the pink-haired man who was still checking something on his phone, fell asleep.

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You woke up as soon as the first rays of sunlight crept into your bedroom through a gap in both curtains covering the window. You looked at Haruchiyo's still sleeping form and his handsome face, which was filled with peace.

You looked at his long, thick eyelashes, which you adored, and your eyes rested on his pale, slightly parted lips. You swallowed and approached him slowly and carefully enough not to wake him.

You leaned down and kissed him, completely ignoring the quality of his breathing, typical after a few hours of sleep. When it came to the person you loved, it didn't bother you at all.

His lips didn't respond in kind, but when you pulled away, the man closed his mouth, moving it slightly, as if he was tasting an unexpected new flavor. He mumbled quietly under his breath and turned his head slightly to the side. You smiled and brushed his longer hair away from his neck and shoulder, giving yourself better access to his bare skin, which you began to kiss gently.

You began to gently suck on his skin and scrape it with your teeth, knowing full well that in the next few moments, you would leave the man a lovely hickey. Sanzu's only reaction was to inhale more sharply through his nose and move his hands more to the sides.

You pulled away, checking if your action had the desired effect, and one corner of your mouth lifted. The red spot on your lover's neck looked good and was at just the right height for him to hide it behind his shirt collar, and if it did become more visible, he could always blame it on some girl he might have managed to lure to his apartment for the night. Who would check on him?

You looked back at the sleeping man's face and pursed your lips, curious to see how far you could go before he woke up. You gently grabbed the sheet that covered him and slowly began to slide it off of him, revealing more and more of his bare, pale skin.

When one of his nipples showed, Sanzu moved his hand behind his head, but his eyes remained closed. His breathing was still calm and his body showed no signs of waking up, so you slowly began to place kisses on his hard chest.

You gently touched the tip of your tongue to his hardening nub and took it into your mouth. His breathing froze for a moment, but it quickly returned to normal and a quiet groan escaped the pink-haired man's lips.

"Mm-hhmm..." His other hand came up and he placed the back of his hand on his forehead.

You lifted your head, holding back your laughter and waited a moment, but as soon as Sanzu began to snore softly, you leaned down again and went back to playing with his nipple. As you began to suck on it gently, your partner moaned again and moved his leg slightly.

You moved away again and pulled the sheet down further, this time revealing his flat, muscular stomach and the slightly raised material of his pajama pants over his crotch. You gently ran your finger over the spot and Haruchiyo let out another moan.

You had never managed to get this far while he was asleep before, so you decided to try your luck and slowly, carefully, you pulled down his pants, revealing his slightly aroused manhood. You directed your eyes to the man's face and carefully began to caress him, stroking his cock.

You watched every, even the smallest, movement of his. Every change in his handsome face and as soon as his breathing quickened, a charming blush began to appear on his cheeks.

You felt a drop of moisture under your fingers and when you looked at the head of his penis, you saw a drop of pre-cum, suggesting an approaching ejaculation. You made a decision, took his hard member in your entire hand and began to move it up and down, returning to watching his face, which began to contort slightly under the influence of pleasure.

You leaned over his crotch and closed your mouth around the head of his penis. At first, you only used your tongue to caress him, but after a short while, hearing another purr that turned into a long, quiet moan, you started sucking on him.

You felt the metallic taste of his pre-ejaculate on your tongue and spread his thighs with your hands as much as the elastic sewn into his pajama pants would allow you. When you sucked the head of his penis harder, his body jerked violently and you felt his hand on your head.

“Fuck, Y/n... Taking advantage of a person sleeping like that is rape!” He said in a hoarse voice, and you looked up at him.

His face was beautifully flushed, lips glistening from moistening them with his tongue, and he had a half-amused, half-surprised look in his eyes.

You lazily sucked on his erection and with a loud *pop* released it from your lips, which you immediately licked.

“You asked for it coming home under the influence of drugs and alcohol.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to take advantage of my vulnerability right away, honey.” He laughed a little nervously, running his fingers through your hair.

“Oh, come on, vulnerability.” You mumbled, kissing the base of his cock that rested against your face. “I didn’t start right away… And it’s not rape at all.”

“And what do you think would be rape, hmm?”

“This��” You carefully inserted the tip of your thumb into his anus and Sanzu's body jerked again.

“Fuck! Oh fuck! Y/n... Baby!” The man's bright eyes were wide open and his face turned even redder. “What if there was a surprise there?”

You moved your finger slightly from side to side. “But there isn't.”

“Y/n...” His voice was shaky, although he tried to sound serious. “That's disgusting...”

“If that's the case, why did you blush even more and more pre-cum leaked from your beautiful penis, tempting me even more, hm?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and moving your finger inside his tight hole again.

“Y... Y/n, please don't.” He groaned and you smiled as his penis twitched involuntarily.

You slid your thumb out of his hole and began to stroke his tense thigh. “See? I listened to your objection, so it’s not rape.”

“Fuck…” He sighed, rolling his eyes. His fingers lightly tightened in your hair. “Do you consider only full intercourse to be rape? Would you have to stick your dick in a sleeping person's hole for your little brain to register it as rape?

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Oral sex can count as that too, you know?”

You slowly ran your tongue along the length of his member, which was twitching desperately, demanding its release.

“I don’t think so.” You replied calmly, looking the man in the eye again.

“What if you were asleep and I started sucking you off?” He asked, frowning slightly, but your response was a growing smile, for which Sanzu tugged on your hair, causing pain. “Pervert. What if a stranger started doing it, huh?”

You pouted slightly, running your hands over his thighs. “Then I would be angry. But…” You raised a finger, seeing on Sanzu's face that he wanted to say something, to show that he was right. “But, you're not a stranger to me, I'm not a stranger to you. We're together and we love each other, so I will never consider oral sex as rape, while one party is asleep at the time.”

“Y/n!” Haruchiyo was outraged.

“End of the subject, Haru. Now, let me finish.” You said again, taking his throbbing member into your mouth, focusing on giving your beloved man as much pleasure as possible.

“Fucking, stubborn ass…” The other groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair, and after a short while he began to move his hips in perfect synchronization with the movements of your head. “Damn... Hhmmm... Ahh, ahh... Damn perv... Perv... PervertAHHH!” You felt the taste of his seed in your mouth, which shot out of his member almost straight into your throat. “Shit! Y/n!...”

His heavy panting and moaning resounded in your ears like the most wonderful melody, and when he let go of your hair, you lifted your head to look at him. He covered his face with both hands so as not to look at you, but after a short moment his body shook with a quiet laugh.

You let his cock fall onto his pants and propped yourself up on one elbow, happily swallowing his cum and licking your lips like a cat after drinking its cream. You watched him with contentment, knowing that you had managed to satisfy him, and as soon as he uncovered his face, you saw joy and satisfaction on it. His bright eyes looked at you from under his lashes and his lips stretched into a mischievous smirk.

“Don’t tell me you swallowed again, Y/n.”

“We both know that turns you on, Haruchiyo.” You replied, holding out your hand to him, which he took in his and your fingers intertwined.

“You know you’re a pervert, honey?”

“Uh-huh, but I’m your pervert.” Sanzu laughed again and closed his eyes for a moment.

“God, Y/n… Never take action against me. I’d hate to have to kill you.”

“I’ll remember.” You kissed his lower abdomen and the man laughed again before reaching for his phone with his free hand to check the time. “Time to get out of bed?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, yeah.” He let go of your hand and you moved away from him on the bed, making room for him to get up. “Where do we have to go?”

“A few clubs that work with us and for some unknown reason are behind on paying interest on protection. Ran and Rindou are dealing with a similar case.” He explained as he took his pajama pants completely off and walked naked to the bathroom.

You frowned slightly as you followed him. “Really? They are late?"

“Yes. Kokonoi has been reminding us of this for the past two days. You know how nervous and annoying he can be when the money doesn’t add up.” He stepped into the shower and turned on the water.

You thought for a moment as you brushed your teeth. This wasn’t the first time this kind of thing had happened, but you couldn’t remember the specifics...

“Sanfu...”

“Yes, honey?”

“When was the last time they didn’t pay us on time?” You asked, starting to wash your tongue.

The water stopped running and the man’s head appeared from behind the glass shower wall. He looked at you in silence for a moment, then grimaced slightly, frowning.

“You’re not suggesting that Yuu is hanging around the area again, are you?” He asked in a gloomy voice.

Exactly. It was like that last time too, with the difference that then he had Kuroda, Nagano, Nagasawa, Sato and the Uchiyama couple by his side...

You spat out the toothpaste foam and rinsed your mouth. “I'd prefer not to, but I'm not ruling anything out.” You replied with a sigh. “Although on the other hand, it would be in our best interest. We could finally track him down and kill him.”

Sanzu dried himself off with a fresh towel and threw it in the laundry basket. He wasn't happy about the likelihood of a repeat of all the crap from earlier in the month. He put on fresh underwear and went over to the sink where you were still standing to brush his teeth as well. When he reached for his toothbrush, his hand froze halfway. He stared at his reflection in the mirror in disbelief.

“Y/n, for God's sake...” He touched the fresh hickey on his neck with his fingers and you puffed out your chest proudly, very pleased with yourself. “Seriously?”

You laughed, running away from his hand as he was about to smack you in the back of the head.

“It's not my fault that sometimes I want to leave a little mark on you.”

“A little? Two fingers wide!”

“It's not my fault you didn't wake up.” You shrugged, stepping into the shower.

“A mean creature.” Haruchiyo grumbled, starting to brush his teeth.

“But seriously, I wouldn't rule out the possibility of Yuji coming back.” You said, soaping up your body.

“But who would he be working with now? All his pals are dead.”

“It's not hard to find Bonten's opponents in the area.” You noticed, rinsing off the foam.

“True. They're nothing but problems.”

“You know what they say. There's no 100% pleasure in life, it has to hurt.”

“But to be such a pain in the ass right away?”

You turned off the water and started drying yourself with your towel. Sanzu was right. No matter how many enemies you crushed, another one always showed up. Not to mention the police themselves.

You went back to the bedroom to start dressing in clean, ironed clothes and Sanzu looked at his phone again.

“No breakfast today?” You asked, fastening the bracelet of your watch.

“You already had yours.” He answered you calmly and you quietly snorted in amusement. “On the way, stop by 7-Eleven and buy me a sandwich and a canned coffee. We'll have a normal lunch later.”

“No problem. The usual?”

“Yeah.” He said, fastening his holster, where he had put his gun after checking it out. He put on his jacket and looked at you. “Y/n, when are you going to learn how to tie a tie?”

“I know how to tie one...” You said, irritated, letting the man take care of it. “It just looks different from this side.”

“A poor excuse.” He grumbled, smoothing out your shirt. “At least you didn’t cut yourself shaving last time.”

You pursed your lips, making an offended face. “It’s not my fault I have hands for metal...”

“I'm made of metal too?” He asked looking into your eyes, so you immediately looked away, feeling your cheeks start to redden.

“No comment.”

“Hey, look at me.” With one finger he turned your face, so you were looking at him again. He smiled gently. “I'm glad you can be gentle with me, you know? I love you, Y/n.” He kissed you softly and you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him more towards you.

“I love you more.” You murmured, kissing one of his scars over and over again. “Are you sure we have to go there?”

“Yeah...”

“Can't you just dump the job on the Haitanis? You're number 2 after all...”

“Y/n...” He kissed you again and pulled away from you. “You're starting to act like you're in heat. I'm not your bitch.”

“And who is the mean one here?” You picked up your holster and started to put it on, but Sanzu waved you off and left the room.

You heard his footsteps on the stairs and after a moment you heard him closing the cabinet in the kitchen. You started to wonder again if Yuji was actually in the area. True, all of his coworkers were dead, or at least the ones you knew about, but there was a high probability that there was someone else who remained in the shadow of them all.

You went downstairs and saw Sanzu putting his bottle of pills into his jacket pocket, letting you know that he had just taken his first dose of drugs for today.

“Maybe you should eat something first?”

“I'll do it in a few minutes. Ready to go?” He went to put on his shoes, closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, his pupils were already dilated.

You laughed quietly, already feeling sorry for those who decided to cause even the slightest problem to the pink-haired man today and you hoped it wouldn't be you.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x y/n #male reader #tokyo revengers haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo sanzu x reader

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noodleblade · 1 year ago

Note

what do you think would happen if instead of knock out having to repair a beat down and broken breakdown, it’s the other way round? knock out gets seriously injured and breakdown has to be the one to repair him this time.

(also i love your writing, you do such a good job of getting the characters to feel like themselves!! it’s so cool ^^)

ngl, this ask got away from me. I probably could have answered it in a few paragraphs but I wrote out a little fic instead soooooo hope you enjoy that:3 I had too many ideas so tone-wise...it might be a bit of a mess x__x (BUT THANK YOU!!!! YOU ARE SO KIND!)

ao3 link x

Breakdown’s frame moved on pure instinct. He held Knock Out close to his chassis, careful not to jostle the medic too much as he rushed down the halls of the Nemesis. The curious vehicons stepped out of his way as he barreled through, making a beeline to medbay.

He couldn’t even remember how he’d gotten back onto the Nemesis. The answer was at some point he had demanded a groundbridge and had raced in, bolting out of the command bridge until he reached the medbay. All of that had been done without thought, his processor entirely focused on the unconscious red speedster in his arms. As soon as he had laid his optics on Knock Out, crumpled in the barren red clay, he had jumped into action, scooping up his partner and running on autopilot.

When the medbay doors opened, Breakdown laid his partner on the first medberth he laid optics on. He did so with the utmost care, making sure he didn’t further damage his already injured frame. Breakdown paid extra attention to Knock Out’s arm, cradled over the medic’s chest as it was only held together by three small wires.

Breakdown didn’t let the grim sight affect him. He couldn’t . Energon was still gushing from the sliced cables and Knock Out’s red finish was losing its luster by the klik. He had to move quickly. Stabilize the medic at the very least. From there… well, he’d figure it out. That was a problem for future Breakdown. Right now, the only thing that mattered was making sure Knock Out didn’t lose any more precious energon.

He at least knew what to do there. Breakdown may not be trained as a medic in the slightest, but he had always assisted Knock Out in the medbay. He may not know what each precise reading of a spark monitor meant, but he knew how to hook up the machine to a patient's spark chamber and processor port. He might not have studied cable repair and restoration, but he knew how to clamp up the leaking ones to prevent further energon loss. With these skills in hand, he moved quickly, all the while keeping an optic on Knock Out in the hopes his precious medic would wake.

He kept his panic at bay as he worked through the mental list of stabilizing Knock Out, his patient. He tried not to let that thought trigger his panic attack and ducked his helm down as he carefully attached each monitor. One for spark rate, one for energon and fluid levels, one for processor activity and a few more he didn’t even know what they tracked. Knock Out would know when he woke up. Knock Out would be able to fix this. Right?

Breakdown looked down at Knock Out’s nearly severed shoulder. The bright red plating was stained in sticky, tacky energon and beyond that was a mess of slashed cables and striped wires. He did his best to make sure the remaining wires weren’t pulled taunt and to keep the loose limb secure and stable. Beyond that…Breakdown was at a complete and utter loss.

He wasn’t a medic, neither by construction nor by trade. Yes , he assisted Knock Out, but it was always with Knock Out leading and Breakdown happily following. His skills had always been centered around breaking and destruction, not repair and mending. Knock Out was the medic. Breakdown just followed orders and did minor cleaning . His paperwork as Knock Out’s “assistant” had just been a simple ruse to keep them together! He wasn’t equipped - physically, mentally, emotionally- to deal with this!

Unfortunately, as it stood, Breakdown may be the closest mech the Nemesis had to a medic with Knock Out out of commission. It had been the whole reason he and Knock Out had been called to the Nemesis in the first place. And instead of realizing the inherent value of having only one capable medic, Decepticon High Command sent him out for scouting missions to fight the Autobots and putting his life on the line and now-

Breakdown swallowed the panic, its sticky static trying to cling to his intake as he took a heavy vent in and then out. There were no other options. Breakdown would just have to do his best. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t picked up on some things while working under Knock Out. At the very least, Breakdown knew the basics. It may not be enough to fully reattach Knock Out’s hanging arm, but he could hopefully stabilize and stop the bleeding enough for when Knock Out woke, making patching him up all the easier. He had to believe in that, focus his mind on that task and not the ever mounting pressure and panic threatening his servos to start rattling.

Hasilty, he tried to recall Knock Out’s instructions. Knock Out loved to talk his way through operations and Breakdown had always recorded his speeches, if not for the information, than just because he loved hearing the medic ramble no matter the usbject. It turns out, it might be the thing saving Knock Out’s life.

“First Step, dear Breakdown: Stabilize. It’s not really advisable to have your patient dying on the medberth, but the clean up is really the worst part.”

Hearing Knock Out, even over the faded, tinny recording soothed the tremoring of Breakdown’s servos. He took a deep exvent in, as he listened to a Knock Out from long, long ago casually list off necessary stabilization and patient admittance procedure.

“You want to make sure there are no active leaks. Usually a cable clamp is a satisfactory temporary measure. If its cracks within the tanks, a stop leak additive can be introduced to the fuel tank to coagulate the energon to prevent further leaks until the tank has been restored. It's important to make sure there is still energon flowing through the patient, otherwise the frame’s nanites cannot begin the self-regeneration process.”

Breakdown had already clamped off the energon leak and Knock Out didn’t appear to have any other active leaks.

He quickly sped through the next few steps of Knock Out’s stabilization steps. They covered more severe measures for burns, crushed fuel lines, malware corrosion. Breakdown hoped he didn’t need to worry about those, but from what he could glean, the majority of the damage was from the nearly severed arm.

“Great,” Knock Out’s recording praised. The tone was warm, familiar, reserved for Breakdown alone. It shouldn’t make his spark spin so rapidly it made his chest burn but it did. Everything Knock Out did had that effect on him. “ Now, we are going to want to do a system assessment and diagnostic.”

As soon as the words whistled through his audials, Breakdown felt his spark sink into the depths of his chassis.

While Breakdown knew the basics of patient intake and quick patches, the realm of actual, professional grade care was above his knowledge base. Knock Out could take one glance at an offset wing and know the issue was a simple alignment or see a shattered knee joint and know the exact reconstruction configuration for that specific frame type. Breakdown surely couldn’t look as a nearly dismembered arm and know how to pop it back into place.

Breakdown stared at Knock Out and the mess of his shoulder in utter dismay. He didn’t know what to do. Sure, he helped Knock Out occasionally in the medbay but that was in the vein of passing equipment or fetching medicine. It certainly wasn’t anything more than that. He wasn’t a forged medic, he wasn’t even a trained nurse. They just put that on paper so they would make sure they got to stay on the same ship together.

He needed a real medic. Someone that knew what they were talking about.

An idea…struck Breakdown, less like a bolt of lightning and more like a creeping, dawning dread. He quickly pulled up his comm link and enabled the frequency scrambler.

Ratchet stared at the anonymous comm link with a chill of dread rolling down his spinal strut.

The frequency was concealed and somehow managed to get through the several encrypted firewalls the Autobots had set up to protect their network from Decepticon interference. Evidently, more protective measures would need to be implemented. Without opening it, all Ratchet could see was the scrambled frequency and the single word subject: help .

Hesitantly, Ratchet opened the message. It was short, curt.

::Need your medical advice. Call me. Emergency.::

He frowned deeply. It wasn’t from any of his fellow Autobots and it wasn’t from Starscream. Even Wheeljack, despite his transient and “neutral” status, was in their contact database. There weren’t that many Cybertronians in range that it could be, leaving only a handful of Decepticons possibly on the end of the link.

Before Ratchet could debate about calling, his anonymous messenger seemed to lose patience and called him . The ringing echoed in the quiet Autobot base, everyone out scouting and the kids thankfully at their homes, leaving Ratchet alone. Curiosity won out at the end as he accepted the call.

The comm link connected but there was no immediate answer. A faint, quiet buzzing met him, telling him the call connected but the caller was choosing not to speak.

Gruffly, Ratchet spoke. “Hello?”

“Uh,” came a hesitant, deep register “hey, Doc.”

Ratchet blinked. The voice was not un familiar, but Ratchet wasn’t completely sure he could place it. The image of an angry bulky blue bot came to mind but...

“This is-“

“Breakdown. Yeah, I don’t really have time to chat. Just need your help for a second. I’ll owe you or whatever.”

Ratchet narrowed his optics. A myriad of questions rolled through the medic’s helm: How did a Decepticon bruiser get his personal comm link? How long has his information been available to the Decepticons? What other holes in their Network were there that any low-ranking Decepticon could just access willy nilly? What business did Breakdown even have with Ratchet of all mechs?

“Help with what? ”

Rather than reply, an incoming video call request came in from the same comm frequency.

Was this a threat? An attempt at blackmail or ransom? Oh no. Had the Decepticons taken one of his mech’s prisoners? Or what if it was one of the kids or-

Before his thought could even finish, Ratchet accepted the call only to be met by the (goreish) image of a nearly severed arm coated in thick, tacky energon. Several fuel lines had been slashed and nearly every wire snapped, snagged and frayed.

“Oh Primus, what is this?” Ratchet cried out.

“A gift from your wrecker, courtesy of his bombs,” Breakdown snarled, anger and the edge of panic in his voice. “Just tell me how I fix him.”

“You have a medic, don’t you?” Ratchet sneered, the image of the flashy speedster conjured in his processor.

“Whose arm do you think this is?” Breakdown hissed.

Oh.

Upon closer examination, Ratchet could see the telltale edges of sleek red plating, now chipped and scratched, a sickly gray sheen taking over the usual glimmering finish. Based on the relative silence over the comm link, Ratchet had to assume Knock Out was, well, knocked out . Otherwise, he could only imagine the absolute fit the other medic would throw in knowing his precious frame was in the hypothetical servos of Ratchet .

“Why would I help you?” Ratchet asked.

Doing so would only be giving aid to the enemy . With Knock Out out of commission, even for a little bit, that would allow the Autobots to make some moves, finally make actual concrete steps into ending this war and defeating Megatron. Why would he help? Why would he go against his own cause and the great good for Cybertronians-

“Didn’t you take some oaths?” Breakdown asked, his tone veering from distressed to disgust.

Well. He did have a point. The inner fires that had been burning in Ratchet’s chest extinguished with one fell-swoop as he let out a heavy exvent.

Breakdown continued, seemingly taking Ratchet’s defeated sigh as acceptance. “I’m not asking you to actually do it. I’m not bridging you here and he’s not going to be at the mercy of the Autobot. I’ll take care of it-”

“You aren’t a medic!”

“Our only medic won’t have an arm unless I do something,” Breakdown snapped back. A shuddering exvent whistled over the frequency before the normally brutish mech whispered a quiet, desperate, “Please?”

It shouldn’t make Ratchet’s resolve waiver. Yet, Ratchet found himself soften at the quiet plea. He knew all too well the pain of watching a loved one suffer and as much as he may hate Knock Out, he didn’t relish the idea of being one of the factors in his ill fated injury. He knew the bitter taste of not being able to fix, mend, help .

“It’s going to require surgery,” Ratchet said with a grimace. It looked like Wheeljack’s bombs not only nearly severed the limb but removed the surrounding plating’s protective coating. “It’s not something I can just walk you through. A repair like this is complicated, meddling in it without expertise could cause even more damage.”

“Can’t we just do a quick patch? To make sure it doesn’t get worse? Something?”

It was odd hearing Breakdown so… panicked . Ratchet, while never quite having the fortune to face off against the Decepticon, he certainly heard many tales from Bulkhead about him, none never quite painted him in such a soft, caring light. Then again, the risk of loss made everyone reveal their true selves.

“I suppose we can do some light repair work and splint up the rest. Is he suffering from any other injuries?” If it is just his arm, Knock Out should be able to handle the repair, or at least instruct his partner in patching it up. If he really was a medic worth his expensive, ostentatious finish.

“Not that I could tell. Just scuffed up and some dents. I can buff those out later.”

“How thoughtful,” Ratchet grumbled. “Right, let’s get this over with quickly.” No point in becoming overly familiarized with Breakdown. Ratchet did not intend for this to be a repeat venture. Judging by Breakdown’s general disposition, he didn’t seem to be either. “Okay, first zoom me in on the wire connections and let me see what we are working with. You clamp those cables yourself?”

There was a distant grunt as Breakdown slowly turned the video feed to show every angle of the injured arm. “I’m his assistant. Nurse. Whatever. I help K.O. in the medbay often enough to how to clamp some slaggin’ cables. My helm’s hard but it’s not full of lead.”

Ratchet didn’t want to say he was impressed but…well, it wasn’t like any of his mechs knew how to clamp cables or even what cable clamps were.

“They look good,” Ratchet muttered the slight praise. He quickly coughed, clearing his intake as Ratchet shifted to a more authoritative, professional tone. “Alright, does Knock Out have anything for splints? Tension cables, mesh tape, any medgrade solvent. You are going to want to keep it clean to avoid rust infections. Oh, and nanite gel will be useful as well for doing some minor restorative work to the light damaged cables…”

Breakdown wasn’t sure how long had passed before Knock Out’s optics flickered on. Warm, red glowed in the dimly light medbay as the medic slowly took in his situation. There was…a strange look on his partner’s face. Breakdown leaned closer as Knock Out slowly looked around. It seemed to take the speedster a moment before his optics landed on Breakdown.

“Medbay?” he asked, his tone…unsure. Off.

Worry immediately crashed over him. Breakdown quickly scanned the console monitors but by his limited knowledge, everything looked correct. Ratchet had even confirmed so when Breakdown had shown him all the readings. All Knock Out’s meters were stabilized, his energon levels were satisfactory and even his plating had started to lose the gray sheen, familiar bright red peeking through.

Oh Primus, what if his processor took damage. Breakdown had been so focused on the mangled arm, he hadn’t even considered damage to his helm. Breakdown barely knew how to apply the temporary welds even with an experienced medic walking him through it. Processor damage though . That wasn’t even Knock Out’s specialty. Breakdown had learned everything he had from his partner and he had done a basic helm check. No dents, no scraps. The virus detector found nothing.

“Yeah, K.O. You got hit. How’re you feelin’? In any pain?”

“Nope,” Knock Out let the sound pop from his lips. A little giggle followed which was very un-Knock Out. “I feel great .”

Looked like the anesthesia was still cycling through his systems. Breakdown had hooked up the machine by muscle memory. The machine itself had little use, no injury brought into the medbay really needed more than a mild numb agent. The last time machine had been used was when Megatron had been comatose-

Scrap. In his haste to hook up Knock Out to the machine and to take care of the energon leaks, he hadn’t even thought to recalibrate the machine for Knock Out’s frame. Breakdown swallowed the rising panic of knowing Knock Out’s systems were currently cycling through a Megatron-sized dose of anesthesia. The dosage for a mech nearly double, if not triple Knock Out’s capacity.

He had half the mind to call Ratchet back. He was halfway through enabling the scrambler when Knock Out let out a happy, content sigh.

It…didn’t look like it was having any adverse effects. Sure, Knock Out seemed a little out of it, but if that’s all, maybe he could hold off on reaching back out to the Autobot medic. He didn’t want to test his luck. He didn’t know what would happen if Megatron found him in communication with the Autobots. For any reason.

“Happy to hear it,” Breakdown said, thankful that as much as this whole situation was a slaggin’ mess, at least he wasn’t in pain. There was still that dazed look in Knock Out’s optics and a looseness in his limbs that Breakdown hoped was just a temporary symptom of the anesthesia.

“You patched me up?” asked Knock Out with a soft, lofty laugh. The sound shouldn’t peak his anxiety but he’d never , in all the vorns they had known each other, ever heard Knock Out giggle . “Where d’you learn all that?” He was beaming, all too proud for a mech that nearly lost his entire arm.

Breakdown felt nauseated by the vast contradiction of utter adoration or deep, spark-aching worry. However, despite both of these, he could not burst Knock Out’s bubble that in truth he had called the ornery Autobot medic for help.

“Only from the best,” he murmured.

Lazily Knock Out’s optics dragged down his frame, lingering with a small pout at every scratch and dent he spied along the way. It ended at his shoulder joint, which even Breakdown had to admit, didn’t look all that much better with the temporary splints than it had looked just hanging from those scant few wires.

“‘S not bad,” Knock Out murmured, his voice slightly slurred and sleepy. “Aiming for my gig?”

“Not sure my shoddy work is gonna pass any examinations,” Breakdown responded softly, holding Knock Out’s uninjured servo in-between his own. “It’s a mess. You’re going to have to help me clean up whatever I fragged up.”

“Mmmm,” Knock Out hummed, optics unfocused and slightly dim. “Not sure I have the capacity to give instruction now.”

“Just rest,” Breakdown lifted the clawed servo to his lips, speaking directly into the metal. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing, silly?” Knock Out slurred, digits wiggling playfully but oh so weakly between his palms. “You fixed me up.”

“Knock Out-”

“Shhhhh,” the drowsy medic hushed, clawed digit clumsily landed across Breakdown’s lips. “The doctor is speaking.” A sloppy, drug induced smile crawled across his lips plates. “One medical professional to another. Besides-” Knock Out dropped his voice to a soft whisper “-you took care of me. That’s all I could ever ask of you.”

Breakdown swallowed the knot of emotion rising up his intake. He pressed another kiss to Knock Out’s finger before gently placing his servo back onto the medberth.

“Leaving?” Knock Out asked quietly as Breakdown stood. It made the large mech pause. It wasn’t often he heard his partner so weak, so vulnerable.

“Just going to clean up.”

“That can wait. Come back here.” There was a slight pout on the speedster’s face. “You know an important aspect of patient care is…” The words failed him suddenly, his pout turning into a confused frown.

“Bedside manner?”

“Yes. Yes, yes. Exactly.”

Breakdown slowly eased himself back into the seat, his spark warming as the smile blossomed on Knock Out’s face once more. His arm flopped out of the berth to reach Breakdown but it seemed his fine motor skills were too lax to do much than hang limply in the space between them.

“Okay, K.O.” Breakdown murmured, picking up the loopy medic’s servo once more. “I ain’t going anywhere.”

“Good.”

#kobd #knock out #breakdown #ratchet #tfp #transformers #maccadam #asks #seiqn #my fics

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jacksoneblackburn · 4 months ago

Text

My parentage is changing.

A fanfic of my own character that kinda goes into the lore of my character, altering the story to where they have multiple personalities inspired by the schizophrenic episodes of the Greco-Roman gods (and ofc @bright-side-of-the-moon)

Chapter 1: Will loses track of a patient.

IT WAS A DAY LIKE NO OTHER.

I was doing rounds- checking I was stocked on bandages, my list of patients with allergies, my medicine was stocked, I had plenty nectar and ambrosia, watering my sunflower given to me as a welcome gift by Will Solace when I got claimed, playing my morning playlist of Conan Gray, Olivia Rodrigo, Em Beihold, Claire Rosinkranz, Camilla Cabello- the usual.

Until I get interrupted by a knock on my office door.

I stop playing my music and head to the door, opening it with slight annoyance.

"Yeah? Who is it-"

"Hey, sorry Jacks, I know you're doing rounds but... we have a medical emergency in cabin 3," The person said. It was my freckled, suntanned, tall, blond brother. Will Solace. He was never good at telling me when there was medical emergencies. Especially during the morning.

"I can't help them," I sigh. "I was just about to reorganize my files in alphabetical order again-"

"Well- I- uhh- As Head Counselor slash Medic, I demand you go check on your patient!" He said, puffing out his chest and pointing a finger in the air.

I just stared at him for a while.

"It's been a week and you're pulling that card on me?"

"Just go down-"

"No."

"Pleeeease?"

"Hmm.... no."

"I'll give you unlimited access to all patient files."

"Where's the camper?" I throw on my lab coat.

"New that would getcha."

"I need blackmail on the Stoll brothers, I take wins where I can get them." I adjust something slightly out of place on my coat then walk past Will.

Will shrugs. "Fair enough."

We walk towards the strawberry fields, making small talk on the way. You know, the usual.

"How many people died last week?" I ask nonchalantly, as if death doesn't bother me anymore.

"Surprisingly, one," Will says while stepping over a mushroom that looked like it was on the verge of exploding. "He fell off of the rock climbing wall."

"Was he drunk?"

"Nope."

"Was he wearing any safety gear?"

"Also, nope."

"Well no duh, it's written on a giant sign to wear the proper equipment with supervision if you want to climb on the wall," I hop over a loose root in the ground. "It's literally the number one rule."

"It was an Ares kid."

"Okay, that makes much more sense."

We make it to the fields, with no one to be seen. Nobody. Anywhere, no matter where you looked. Not a single Satyr, bug, or demigod.

"Uh... Will?" I turn to him and bat my eyes. "Where's. The. Damn. Patient."

"How should I know?!"

"YOU'RE THE HEAD MEDIC. THAT'S YOUR JOB."

"NUH-UH- wait, no. You actually have a point. Am I gonna get fired?" Will was panicking, I was pissed, and we have a missing (probably dying, let's be honest) patient that's nowhere to be seen. "Oh gods, what do I tell Nico?!-"

"Calm down. You find that patient, before Chiron and Mr. D have your practicing license for a month. I'll go ask any nearby campers if they seen anyone..." I pause for a moment. "What did you say this patient looked like again?"

"I- uh.... Girl, very pretty, smelled like-"

"Let me remind you, you have a boyfriend that I know very well."

"Shut up," Will's face taking on the same hue of the strawberry milk served at lunch. "As I was saying, she was a daughter of Aphrodite. She was supposedly having a heat stroke-"

"Why would a child of Aphrodite be all the way out here in the Strawberry fields?" I interrupt. "Sorry, my bad. Please continue."

"-That caused her to pass out," Will continued, albeit, very annoyed. "She was saying something about needing water, and a Cabin Three kid went to the lake to purify some water for her to drink."

"That all?"

"No, she passed out and... well... You know the story from there."

I hum in thought. Being the gremlin I am, I walk away back to my office. "If she's not here, that means she's okay, or someone else is already treating her. Now about those medical documents-"

"What." Will said incredulously. "Not even gonna look for her?- What if there's a dead camper on my hands, and you just walk away?"

I nod. "Pretty much, yeah."

Will stares at me, dumbfounded and slowly getting more and more pissed off. "You're a terrible medic."

"If there's no patient to treat, there's no problem to meet." Ignoring Will's comment, I continue walking away. "I need to finish my rounds."

"You're fired."

I stop dead in my tracks, slowly turning around. "What?"

"You. Are. Fired"

"Y-you can't fire me?!" I walk up to him. "Only-"

"I don't care. Go to the Hermes cabin. And stay there. You're license is officially revoked."

"W-what..." I mumble, terrified. "Y-you can't do this to me- you're taking away my entire purpose-"

"That's the point," He folded his arms, towering over me, the damn Texan. "Get out my damn sight before I do something I regret."

"B-but my documents... My patients- You- you can't do this to me!"

"You are dismissed."

I felt the tension build up in my chest. My grip on my reality slipping away. The tears welling up in my eyes, burning hotter than any of the forges in Cabin 9. My breath became warm, my throat closing up and becoming dry as the tears fall off of my cheeks like rain. My nose and cheeks redder than any strawberry in the field.

I grip onto Will's shirt, falling to my knees and crying into Will's shirt. "P-please W-Will.... D-don't do this...." I sob.

"You have till the Harpies come out to move." Will said coldly, walking past me. Muttering and mumbling to himself to calm himself down as I slowly fall to the floor. Curling into a ball and clutching my stomach as my tears turn the dirt underneath my face slowly turning to mud with my tears.

So that was chapter 1 !!

Thank you so much for reading and I really hope you enjoyed!

A like would be greatly appreciated because it really supports me (you don't have to if you don't want to) :]

#pjo #writerscommunity #solangelo #will solace #writeblr #fantasy #oc rp #oc backstory #oc alternate universe #Reminder:#¡This is a variation of the original story and does not reflect the actual actions of my character!#this version of them isn't that good of a person #self destruct toad

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sebstanaddict · 1 year ago

Text

Too Good To Be True

Sebastian Stan x Reader Story

Summary: A romantic comedy story where Sebastian Stan falls in love with reader but she is not who he thinks she is.

After one of her dreams came true, which was meeting Sebastian Stan, reader thought life would finally get better for her. Unfortunately it didn't and she was forced to take a job all aspiring actresses usually took early in their careers, which was becoming a waitress/barista. One day her idol came to her work place and turned her world upside-down, literally. Will she finally get the luck she so desperately needed in her life or will bad luck continue to haunt her?

Pairings : Sebastian Stan x Female!Reader

Chapters : 3/20 (Might add more)

Chapter list >

Warning : none

Word count : 6.4k words

This story is inspired loosely by Sebastian's love life so it will have characters from his real life but I will not name their real names. I will only use Sebastian's real name in the story.

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Chapter 3 - Conga

Go Get 'Em Tiger Cafe, LA, California - 1 month later

—

The milk steamer let out a hissing sound as soft foam started to form in the housemade almond milk inside the stainless steel cup. Being able to make a cup of latte or cappuccino using an expensive coffee machine was something Y/n never thought she could do. She guessed human brains really have a large untapped capacity for learning anything. Still, she moved out of Silicon Valley not expecting to learn to be a barista or a waitress, she wanted to learn acting, which she did, and there was nothing else she would love to learn more than acting. But the fact that she had started to run out of money and that she hadn't scored a role on anything yet, not even a commercial, she had no choice but to do the aspiring actress slash waitress job.

After her very first audition in front of Sebastian ended up with her being injured, she was forced to stay in her apartment for two weeks until her ankle was healed, so she missed out on four auditions she was supposed to do within those two weeks. She ended up doing some auditions over zoom and she also recorded videos of herself and sent them out to agencies and production houses. Of course, those types of auditions couldn't beat an in person audition where the casting directors could see her directly, so she assumed one of the reasons why she hadn't gotten any roles yet was because of that. Or maybe she just wasn't that good. Sometimes that thought crossed her mind. But Eve, her aspiring actress roommate, who had more experience in the acting world than she was, told her that she was good and kept encouraging her to do auditions. Her acting teacher Miss Davidson also told her that she was good and kept encouraging her to continue. She ended up enrolling in a part time acting class at the conservatory to improve her acting skills more while also having the waitress slash barista job on the side.

Despite being side tracked in her efforts to succeed as an actress, she was still somewhat grateful that she could get a job at the Go Get 'Em Tiger cafe. Eve was also working there and she helped her get the job. The cafe was located in Los Feliz and it was supposed to be quite a popular spot for Hollywood celebrities to hang out. However, in the two weeks that she had started working there she had only met one celebrity, Chris Pine, who was alone and spent almost half the day there just reading a book. She had more than hoped that Sebastian would one day come into the cafe but that day had not come yet.

Speaking of Sebastian, after a week of not hearing anything from him, she was convinced that the reason he was so nice to her was because he had hit her head with a frisbee. There was no chance he was interested in her at all and even though she knew it from the beginning, deep down she couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed. She remembered the way he looked at her at the conservatory's infirmary and in his car. She felt like there was something more there. But of course there wasn't. She was just hallucinating. He probably looked at everyone the way he looked at her. She had tried to convince herself.

Despite knowing she didn't have any chance with him she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever meet him again. The results of the audition had been announced about a week before. The role of the main character's sister went to her classmate Lily, while both the roles of the main character's girlfriend and friend didn't go to anyone from the conservatory. It seemed no one was good enough for both roles so Sebastian and the other producers most likely opened auditions to other people. This made it harder for her to meet him again and it had made her sad. Even though she only met him briefly she felt the impact was quite deep. Yes, after meeting him in person she could say that she was more in love with him than ever. How could she not? Especially after how he had treated her. But of course it was not good to dwell on it too long. It was useless. She had zero chance with him so she should focus her mind on other things and she could proudly say that she was successful in that.

She had only been working at the cafe for two weeks but she was a fast learner that the manager had trusted her to graduate from just being a waitress to being a barista. She was quite proud of that until that day that is.

She poured the foamy almond and macadamia milk into a cup where a small amount of espresso was already in. She moved the stainless steel cup containing the milk slowly to form the signature leaf like design on top of the cappuccino. The end result was pretty and she was really happy with it. She placed the cup of cappuccino onto a tray where she had prepared some sachets of sugar and Stevia as well as a teaspoon and rang the bell. Soon Eve came over.

"Table 7, Eve." She said, gesturing her head towards a table by the window where a man was sitting.

"Okay, thanks Y/n. You're getting really good at the foam design." Eve commented and smiled at her after glancing at the cappuccino.

"Oh thanks. I tried my best." She smiled back.

She had just finished cleaning up after making the cappuccino when the one person she had hoped to meet again in the past month walked in. It was Sebastian!

He looked exactly, if not even more good looking than the last time she saw him. He still had long hair pulled back into a ponytail but he had slightly thicker stubble. He wore a navy sweater, which was peculiar to wear in LA at this time of the year, but of course he still looked good wearing it. She couldn't help but continue to stare at him. He looked around for a bit and then walked straight towards her. But just before he could really see her, her embarrassment got the best of her. Somehow she didn't want him to know that she ended up being a barista slash waitress instead of a successful actress. So she quickly ducked and squatted behind the counter, pretending to clean the cupboard in front of her with a rag that was in her hand.

"Excuse me." His voice traveled down into her ears and she could feel warmth crawling from her neck up to her cheek.

She pretended not to notice and hoped another employee could deal with him instead but she was the only barista scheduled to work at that hour and Eve was cleaning up tables on the patio outside while the cafe's manager was busy in the kitchen supervising a new cook. No one else could cover for her.

"Hello. I'd like to order please." Sebastian called out again and she took a deep breath. Okay, alright, you can do this. She encouraged herself and slowly but surely started to stand up.

"Oh hello. What can I get for you, sir?" She smiled nervously, trying to put on a professional face. For all she knew he probably didn't remember her. It had been a month after all since he last saw her.

Sebastian stared at her with his gorgeous blue eyes and soon recognition appeared in them.

"Oh hey, it's Y/n, right?" He asked, smiling wide at her.

"Hi Sebastian." She smiled back, feeling both, elated and embarrassed that he still remembered her.

"How are you? How's your ankle?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Her heart felt warm at his question. Not only did he remember her, he also remembered her injury. But of course, after what happened, it was normal that he would remember.

"Oh, it's healed. I just sometimes feel weird walking on it. But it's mostly fine. Thanks for asking." She replied and he nodded in response.

"That's good. Happy to hear that." He smiled.

"Yeah. Thanks." She smiled back.

"I didn't know you worked here. Last time I was here, which was about three weeks ago, I didn't see you." He stated.

"Umm.. yeah. I just started about two weeks ago." She replied, blushing again as the embarrassment she felt earlier came back.

"Oh, I see." He nodded.

"I.. uh.. have bills to pay so I didn't have a choice." She blurted out. She didn't know why she said it and she felt really stupid for saying it. Having a high paying job for most of her life, admitting that she needed a job was actually quite embarrassing for her. It seemed her nervousness got the best of her.

"Oh yeah, I get that. Everyone in the business had to do this at some point in their careers. I did too." He winked and she could feel butterflies in her stomach and she was sure her face had reddened again.

"What job did you do at the beginning?" She finally asked after she had recovered from his wink.

"I was a waiter, also a store attendant at some point. But my first job was at a cinema, taking stubs of tickets from moviegoers. Stuff like that." He chuckled.

"Oh, the cinema huh? I bet you had a blast being able to watch movies a lot." She commented.

"Oh yeah I did. That was the only good thing about the job." He said.

They laughed and she couldn't help but notice that he did the nose scrunch. It was something cute that he did sometimes when he laughed and she couldn't believe she could witness it directly.

Just then a family of four entered the cafe. A dad, a mom and their daughter and son. They walked straight towards the counter.

"Anyway, sorry, what can I get you, Sebastian?" She asked, her eyes glancing behind him where the family had stood.

"Oh yeah. Sorry." Sebastian turned his face towards his back for a quick second and saw the family then he turned back to face her.

"I'll just have the iced almond macadamia latte and I'll also have the avocado toast." He said.

"Alright, that would be eighteen dollars and fifty cents, sir." She said after entering his orders into the cafe's system.

"Sir.. I feel so old." He chuckled as he pulled out his wallet.

"Sorry, I didn't mean.." she said but she was cut off.

"It's okay, Y/n..I was joking." He winked and she blushed again.

"Here, keep the change." He said as he gave her ten one hundred dollar bills.

Her jaw dropped as she received the thousand dollars from him. She knew that he was a generous tipper but a thousand dollars was just too much!

"Sebastian.. I.. I can't accept this." She said as she tried to give the money back to him but he put his hands behind him and wouldn't accept the money back.

"Just take it Y/n. I insist. Now let's not make these people wait for too long." He said as he beckoned his head back towards the family that were standing behind him.

"I.. okay. Th.. thank you so much, Sebastian." She stammered as she put the money into the till and typed the amount and tip that he gave into the system, her hand shaking a little.

"Hey, the change is just for you. So.. don't put them into the system." He reminded her.

"Oh.. right. Thanks." She said as she picked most of the money back and put them into her pocket. If her manager was there he would have scolded her or even take the money away from her but he wasn't and she was really grateful for that.

She deleted the actual amount that he had given to her from the system and entered the amount of the order instead. Then she printed out the receipt.

"Here's your receipt and please kindly wait. We will bring your orders to your table once they're ready." She said while giving him the receipt.

"Okay, thanks. I'll be on the patio." He said and she nodded.

He smiled at her one last time and finally turned around and left her. She felt weak in her knees as he left but she shouldn't be like this. There were other customers that needed her attention! She scolded herself.

"Good morning, sir, ma'am. What can I get for you today?" She smiled as the dad and mom of the family approached her.

"Good morning. We'll have two bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches please, then a GGET BLT and a Protein Brekkie." The mom replied.

She quickly put in their orders with her heart pounding hard in her chest. She rarely accepted large orders, Eve usually did the order taking so she was scared she would get them wrong.

"Okay, what drinks would you like to have today, sir, ma'am?" She asked after making sure the food orders had been entered correctly.

"I'll just have an iced latte, please." The dad replied.

"Make that two and two orange juice for our kids. But please make sure not to use nut milk for my husband's latte because he's allergic to nuts." The mom said.

"Yeah, I always forgot to say that. I'm allergic to nuts." The dad said.

"Noted, sir, ma'am." She said as she continued to enter their orders into the system.

"So, that would be seventy one dollars, sir, ma'am." She said as the total of their orders appeared on the cafe's computer screen.

The mom paid and they finally left her to sit outside on the patio, leaving her to finally work on making all of their orders.

She dealt with the orange juice first as they were the easiest to prepare while also waiting for the coffee machine to heat up. Then she prepared the iced lattes next. A regular iced latte and the one Sebastian ordered, the iced almond macadamia latte, basically had the same recipe. The only difference was with the milk that was used. A regular latte used regular cow's milk while the iced almond macadamia one used housemade almond and macadamia milk.

She remembered the dad was allergic to nuts so she made sure not to use the wrong milk for him. After a while all the drinks were done and she rang the bell to call Eve.

"Table 10 and 15, Eve." She said as Eve approached her.

"Y/n.. is that Sebastian Stan on table 15?" Eve asked with her eyes wide as she looked outside towards the patio where Sebastian was sitting.

"Yup." She nodded.

"Oh wow. Did he remember you?" Eve continued to ask.

"Believe it or not he did remember me." She smiled, her eyes glazed a little as she remembered the way recognition entered his eyes when he first saw her earlier.

"That's so cool." Eve exclaimed in awe.

"Well, I guess he would remember me seeing how I embarrassed myself and he basically had to carry me multiple times." She chuckled.

"Yeah, you're so lucky. By the way, do you want to bring his order yourself?" Eve asked.

"Umm.. I still have some cleaning up to do. Maybe it's best that you do it. Don't want to keep him waiting too long." She replied.

"Okay." Eve nodded and she finally left to bring the orders to Sebastian and the family.

She was again just finished cleaning up after making the last order when she heard a female voice scream out.

"Help! Somebody call 911!" The mom from the family screamed.

The mom was standing over her husband who seemed to be choking. She immediately got out of the counter and went over to them. Her heart dropped to her stomach as she watched the dad whose entire mouth had swollen. His face looked pale. It was clear he was having anaphylactic shock and had trouble breathing.

She immediately pulled out her cellphone and called 911. As soon as she was done the cafe's manager and Eve went to stand by her, trying to calm the mom and help the dad in any way they could.

"He's having an allergic reaction! I told you he was allergic to nuts!" The mom shouted at her.

"What?! Did you give this man nuts?" The cafe's manager turned to her, his voice raised.

"No! I.. I made sure I put regular milk in his order and not almond milk." She defended herself.

Her eyes glanced at the latte glasses on the table and then she turned to look at Sebastian's glass on his table, and realized their orders must have been switched. She didn't give anything on the glasses to differentiate between the lattes and Eve didn't know which ones were which. She didn't tell her. In all of her excitement and nervousness of meeting Sebastian again, she had forgotten to tell her. Her heart sank deep into her stomach as she realized that she was in big trouble.

—

"You're fired!" The cafe's manager spat at her about an hour later.

Thankfully the emergency responders came not long after she realized her mistake and they were able to inject the man with adrenaline, helping him in reversing the effects of the allergy thus allowing him to breathe normally again. They still brought the man to the nearest hospital to observe him and made sure a second anaphylactic attack didn't happen.

The man's wife was absolutely furious at her and even threatened to sue them. She calmed down eventually after the cafe's manager refunded her and told her that they would deal with any medical expenses for the man's recovery.

She was standing in the cafe's manager's office, looking down at her feet in fear and shame as the manager continued to scold her and berated her. Eve stood next to her, looking down at her feet as well.

"I.. I'm really sorry Mr.Smith. It was an honest mistake." She stammered.

"Honest mistake?! More like stupid mistake! The man could've died and you could've been charged with murder!" He shouted and she winced at that.

He was right. The man could've died. She was completely horrified at the thought.

"Me firing you is tame compared to what could've happened to you. You know I could've demanded you to pay to cover that man's medical expenses. But I know you don't have the money. So I won't ask you for that. But I won't pay you a dime." He continued to say with venom in his voice.

She could only nod as she listened to him. Her punishment was fitting. She accepted that.

"Now Eve, I'm not going to fire you. You've been with us a long time so I'm letting you go with a warning." Mr.Smith said as he turned to look at Eve.

"Thank you Mr.Smith." Eve nodded and glanced at her for a split second, as if silently saying to her how sorry she was at the turn of events.

"Now go! Both of you!" Mr.Smith said as he waved his hand and dismissed them.

She nodded, turned around and followed Eve out of Mr.Smith's office. Her mind was still reeling after what just happened.

"I'm really sorry, Y/n." Eve said.

"It was my fault, Eve, that's okay." She sighed.

"I'll ask my friends in case they know if another cafe or restaurant is hiring." Eve offered.

"Yeah, thanks Eve. I'll look for a job myself too." She said as they arrived at the small room which housed the employee lockers as well as some benches where the employees could sit and rest.

"I have to go back out. You'll be okay, right?" Eve asked, placing her hand on the side of her left arm.

"Yeah. I'm just going to go back home after I change." She said.

"Okay. See you later, Y/n." Eve reached out and gave her a brief hug then left her alone.

As she changed out of her uniform the severity of the situation dawned in her. She was unemployed, yet again! What was it with this year? She thought in disbelief. She was fired twice that year, something she never thought she would experience. Yes, she realized that for all these years she mostly had experienced bad luck and unfair conditions. But something big like this never happened to her twice in the same year. Why was she such a loser?! She complained internally as she slammed the door of her locker hard, but instead of closing, the door fell down onto her, the hinges were destroyed with rust. She cursed as she struggled to put the door back onto its place but couldn't so she just left it leaning on the locker.

Go home. That was all she could think about as she finally went out of the employee room and slung her bag around her shoulder. Her emotions about the whole situation had started to come to the surface and she felt like she was about to cry. She didn't want to cry in front of the other employees and customers. So she quickly went out of the cafe, forgetting completely about Sebastian who apparently was still there, sitting at the patio.

She wasn't sure what to do as she walked closer towards where his table was. As it happened his table was near the exit of the cafe so she couldn't really avoid him. He was looking down while reading a book so she hoped she could just slip past him. But her hope was squashed as she got closer to him and Sebastian looked up at her.

"Y/n? What happened?" Sebastian asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. She didn't want to stop but she didn't want to be rude either so she stopped.

"I.. I don't know if you saw what happened but.. I got fired." She said slowly.

"Oh no. I did see what happened." He said, staring at her in concern.

"Yeah, I.. I mixed up your order with that man who got an anaphylactic shock. He's allergic to nuts and I gave him your latte." She explained.

"Oh, that explains why I couldn't taste the almond and macadamia in the latte." He commented.

"Yeah.. I.. I'm sorry about that. I can ask the other barista to make the correct latte for you if you want." She offered.

"Oh no, thanks. That won't be necessary. I already finished more than half of it anyway." He said, smiling.

"Okay. Well, I have to go. See you later, Sebastian." She waved a little at him and quickly turned to leave him. She was on the verge of crying and she didn't want him to see it. But Sebastian didn't seem to get it because he quickly stood up and followed her.

"Y/n! Wait!" Sebastian shouted at her but she pretended not to hear him and she decided to run. She crossed the street and headed towards a parking lot where she had parked her car.

"Y/n! Stop!" She could hear Sebastian shouting after her so she immediately ran to her car and ducked behind it, hoping Sebastian didn't see her. She squatted on the ground, her heart beating fast in her chest as she waited to see if Sebastian had seen her. Moments later she could hear the sound of footsteps. A pair of white sneakers showed up in front of her and she knew he had caught up with her.

"Y/n?" He called out gently. She looked up to see him staring at her with confusion on his face.

"Y/n.. why are you hiding from me?" He asked in amusement.

"I.. I'm sorry. I just.. " she sighed. She couldn't tell him that she was about to cry. But seeing him looking down at her with genuine concern on his face broke the dam in her heart that had stopped her from crying ever since the incident happened. Tears started to fall from her eyes and she finally cried. She tried hard to stop because she was embarrassed but she couldn't. Once she started she couldn't stop. She cried hard, grieving over her bad luck in employment that year. Swirls of fear and uncertainty circled around in her chest. She never felt so powerless in her life. She didn't have a job! How was she supposed to live now?! She didn't want to end up homeless. She continued to sob.

Sebastian walked closer to her and knelt in front of her. He opened his arms wide and pulled her into his embrace, startling her. She froze as she ended up sitting on the ground while Sebastian's arms circled around her body tight.

"There.. there.. it's okay Y/n. Everything is gonna be okay." He soothed her while his hand caressed her back gently.

Home. She suddenly felt like she was home in his arms. She stopped crying and took a deep breath. Inhaling deeply the intoxicating smell of his cologne mixed with what she guessed was his signature scent. The warm feeling of his arms around her, the softness of his sweater and especially his comforting signature scent successfully calmed her down. She sniffled and Sebastian slowly let her go.

He raised his hand up to her face and wiped the tears falling down on her cheeks gently with his fingers. Her heart galloped fast in her chest as she felt his warm fingers on her cheeks and she blushed.

"I.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cry in front of you." She stammered.

"It's okay Y/n. Don't worry about it." He looked down at her and gave her a warm smile, making butterflies flutter around in her stomach.

For a moment they just looked at each other and she could feel it again, how he looked deep into her soul and she felt her heart skip a beat.

"Are you feeling better?" He finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah..thank you Sebastian." She smiled and took a deep breath.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked gently as he let her go completely and sat crossed leg on the ground in front of her.

“I.. Well, I was just grieving over my unemployment. This was the second time I got fired this year and I just worry so much about my future. I.. I don’t want to end up being homeless, you know.” She sighed.

“I see. This was the second time you got fired?” He asked curiously.

“Yeah it was.” She replied. She ended up telling him about her previous job at Silicon Valley, how she waited three months but couldn’t get a job and how she decided to go to LA to pursue an acting career. Of course she omitted the fact that he was the reason why she decided to pursue an acting career. She didn’t want him to know that she was his fan. She didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable because of it.

“Wow, I admire you for wanting to step out of your comfort zone. Not everyone has the balls to do that.” He commented. He seemed genuinely impressed at her story and that made her confidence level raise.

“Thank you, Sebastian. I really appreciate you saying that.” She smiled and he smiled back.

"You’re welcome, Y/n. By the way, I have something serious to talk to you about, but maybe we should go somewhere more comfortable. It’s getting kind of hot out here." He suggested as he stood up and extended his hand towards her.

"Oh okay." She said, startled as she held his hand and stood up.

"Let's just go to my car and I can put the AC on." He said, beckoning for her to follow him towards his car, which was coincidentally parked next to hers.

She just nodded as she followed him to his car, wondering what it was that he wanted to talk to her about.

Moments later they sat side by side in his car. He put the AC on full blast and she could feel warm air blasted out from the fan. Slowly the air turned cool and gave her some relief from the sweltering California heat. Her heart beat fast in her chest as she waited on what he was going to say to her. She couldn't help but fantasize that he was going to confess that he had fallen in love with her, like what happens in romcoms. But her logical side argued that there was no way it would happen. She was simply not his type. Heck, she was nobody's type. Her single status for the past thirty years proved that.

"Y/n.. first of all, I hope you don't think of me as some kind of creep for saying this to you." He said and she immediately shook her head.

"Nothing you say would make me think that." She said.

"Not even if I told you I'm a cannibal?" He laughed and she laughed as well.

"Okay, maybe that. Wait.. it's not that, is it?" Her eyebrows raised.

He laughed so hard that tears started to form in the corners of his eyes.

"It's not that, Y/n." He finally said after he stopped laughing and regained his composure.

"Oh. Phew!" She said in relief, making him laugh again.

"Anyway. What I wanted to tell you is. I want you.. to work for me." He slowly said.

"What?!" She exclaimed out loud, flabbergasted.

"Yeah. Filming for Pumping Black is happening soon and I need some PAs, personal assistants, you know. To help on set and.. well.. maybe off the set as well." He said, his eyes looked to the right as he seemed to be thinking.

She couldn't believe her ears! Sebastian f*****g Stan was offering her a job?! Out of everything that could happen in her life this one definitely never crossed her mind. Well, she would of course prefer to work with him as an actress, like a co-star of his, but being his personal assistant sounded awesome too! She could be with him 24/7! Okay, maybe not exactly 24/7 but close to that. It was like every Sebastian's fan's dream job! She couldn't believe her luck!

"Are you serious?" She asked, wide eyed.

"Yes, I'm serious Y/n. But if you don't want to work for me then it's okay. I know I'm practically a stranger to you and this might be weird for you. So I understand completely if you don't want to take up on my offer." He explained quickly.

"Oh.. yeah, well, it does seem weird, I can't deny that." She said, playing hard to get a little and he smiled knowingly.

"But.." he trailed, teasing her.

"But.. of course I would work for you Sebastian! Being your PA beats being a waitress or barista any day!" She exclaimed excitedly.

"Happy to hear that." He chuckled.

"So, when do I start?" She asked.

"Well, I love your enthusiasm but aren't you gonna ask about your salary? You should never forget asking about that in a job interview." He reminded her and she laughed.

"This doesn't feel like a job interview. But yeah, you're right. How much are you going to pay me, mister?" She asked and he laughed.

"Twice the amount Go Get 'Em Tiger paid you." He said.

"Oh! That's great! If I told you they paid me 50 grand a month would you pay me 100 grand a month?" She teased.

"I don't believe they paid you that much, Y/n." He protested and she laughed.

"Yeah, they didn't, unfortunately." She chuckled and he chuckled as well.

"Well, I assume they paid you in the range of two to three grand a month." He said.

"Yeah, you're right." She nodded.

"Okay, in that case I'm offering you four grand a month. And that's for working from 9 in the morning to 5 in the afternoon. You'll be compensated more if you work outside of official working hours. I usually pay twenty dollars per hour for work outside of working hours." He explained.

"Okay, that sounds good, Sebastian." She smiled. "How long will you need me for?"

"Well, filming will last for about three months. Two months at a studio here and a month in France. So I'll need you for at least three months. But I do have other projects coming after that where I may need your help again..I guess we'll see." He replied.

"That sounds amazing. I've never been to France before." She said in awe.

"Oh yeah? Well, it's a beautiful country, you'll love it there." He commented.

"I'm sure I will! So, when do I start?" She asked eagerly.

"Well, filming for Pumping Black is going to start in about a week. So I'd say you should start immediately. However, I still need to run this by the other producers and Maya too. I'm sure they'll be okay with it and I just need to ask them for formality's sake, you know. Because I already have three PAs working for me at the moment."

"Oh. Are you sure you still need me?" She asked, doubt started to form in her heart.

"Of course Y/n! The more the merrier! And even if you don't end up working for me personally we still need PAs for the other actors." He explained.

"Okay. That sounds good." She nodded.

"Yeah. Speaking of actors. I'm sure you know we ended up not giving the girlfriend and friend role to anyone from your conservatory." He said.

"Oh, yeah. I knew about that. We must be really bad huh?" She chuckled.

"Well, no actually, that's the thing. Out of everyone who auditioned for the role of Celeste, you were actually on the first rank, Y/n." He sighed.

"What?! Are you serious, Sebastian?" She asked, her jaw dropped.

"Yeah. But, well.. I regret to say that the other producers decided to get someone more known and famous as Celeste, if you get what I mean. Someone who could help sell the movie to the general audience. So, I'm sorry. You should have gotten the role, Y/n." He said in regret.

"Oh my God! Really?!" She exclaimed out loud, her hand covered her mouth in disbelief.

"Yeah. But I'm sure you'll get a better role in the future. You have great talent, you just need to keep practicing and take as many auditions as you can." He suggested.

"Sebastian.. you have no idea how much this means to me! I mean.. I know I didn't get the role. But to be the first rank on the audition! That is awesome!" She said in delight.

He smiled and stared at her softly, making her heart skip a beat. Once again she felt like he was seeing her deep into her soul. His beautiful eyes gazed at her warmly and she felt her heart was going to burst out of her chest.

"It is awesome, Y/n. But you know what's more awesome?" He asked with a glint in his eyes.

"What?" She asked curiously.

"This!" He said as he turned the radio on and a Gloria Estefan song started to play from the speaker.

She laughed as she recognized the song. It was the up-beat song Conga. Sebastian started to move his shoulders in tune with the music while she just watched him and laughed.

"Come on Y/n! Move your shoulder. Move your body a little." He encouraged her and she didn’t have a choice but to obey her new boss.

They ended up singing and dancing to the song, turning her bad day into an unbelievable day.

"Is this going to be the norm working for you?" She laughed as the song finally ended and Sebastian finally stopped dancing.

"Oh yeah it is!" He exclaimed excitedly and she laughed.

"Being able to spontaneously sing and dance when prompted is one of the job requirements." He teased.

"Oh okay. And how did I do?" She asked, smiling.

"You passed with flying colors, Y/n." He replied and winked, making her blush yet again.

"Anyway, I have to go to the studio. I have an appointment in an hour with Maya and the other producers." He said.

"Oh yeah, okay. I should just…go then." She said as she placed her hand on the door handle of the car.

"No wait, I can drive you home first if you want." He said, reaching out to touch her hand, making her heart skip a beat. She could feel that she was blushing again. He retracted his hand slowly and smiled warmly at her.

"Umm.. you don't need to do that Sebastian. My car is literally next to yours." She smiled as she pointed to her car with her thumb.

"Oh! Okay then! Good. By the way, can I have your number?" He asked and her heart galloped fast in her chest. Sebastian f*****g Stan asked for her number! What were the odds of that happening?! She screamed internally.

"So I can let you know when you can start and where the set is and all that." Sebastian continued when she didn't respond.

"Oh, right!" She said, feeling utterly embarrassed. Of course he wanted her number for work related purposes. How could she be so stupid.

She gave her number to him and he saved it in his phone. He then called her number and asked her to save it. She couldn't believe she had Sebastian's number! Lara must be freaking out if she told her about it.

"Alright. I'll contact you as soon as possible, Y/n." Sebastian smiled as he put his cellphone back in his pocket.

"Looking forward to that, Sebastian. And.. thank you so much for giving me a job." She said as she reached out and squeezed his hand, making him smile.

"You're welcome Y/n. Take care." He winked and she blushed.

"You too, Sebastian." She replied.

"Thanks Y/n." He replied, smiling wide at her.

She opened his car door and stood by his car. She waved as Sebastian saluted her and finally drove away, leaving her feeling weak all over.

Yup. Luck was definitely on her side this time. She was sure about it. But the universe had something up its sleeves that she wasn't aware of. It might seem like she was lucky for the time being but unfortunate events would soon be coming her way again, as they always have throughout her life.

Chapter 4 >

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@dhoruwolfie

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastianstan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan fluff

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adelaidedrubman · 1 month ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 13: ORAL + minthara baenre x kyrene multhoma (durge oc) | from prompt list by starsandskies

summary: minthara grants kyrene the chance to finally indulge herself without fear. wordcount: 4.2k notes/warnings: y’know. explicit NSFW. background mentions of grove slaughter (she did all that!). intrusive violent thoughts during sex slash internal monologue of general durge stuff (amnesia, fear of losing control, etc.). praise kink. biting with a smidge of blood kink implied. very mildly implied masochism on kyrene’s part. brief, light bondage. and pretty unavoidable lack of proper prior negotiation on all of this (unless you count tadpole brain blast). sometimes women need to think about killing each other a little during sex ok

Indulge.

The call was static sparking pulses painted in the furious hot pink of blood pounding through flesh from the moment she first saw Minthara, throbbing so heavy in her ears she felt as if her tiny brain was being squeezed down to a single fold by the force, every other thought wrung to drip out as a bead of sweat crawling down the back of her neck.

Indulge, indulge.

It had first come as a sort of permission, spoken aloud by the paladin herself.

Join my hunt.

A command, more accurately, no room for disagreement. But her voice grew so tinted warm with approval through its dark gravel as she spoke of the blood Kyrene was to spill that it felt one in the same, the gleam in the crimson pooling from black depths of her eyes making it feel equally like a promise. Such a stark contrast, from the stinging edge to Shadowheart scolding her for being carried by the fancy to pluck suddenly materialized hand from wrist those days before.

A sigh fell from Kyrene’s lips as calloused fingers stroked their swell, and she wondered if she could have ever stopped the affection that bloomed in her chest the moment she heard the words, her heart tangling in the garden that sprang to life in a single beat. Had she thought to steel it with a reminder of control yourself, it will pass, instead of allowing the constant mantra to fall away, suspended, replaced by a whisper.

Indulge, indulge.

That was the offer as Kyrene heard it, whatever terms of battle plans it had taken form as, it was a caress along the back of her ear and a whisper — ‘Indulge,’ it fell in a warm breeze against skin, ‘You may finally indulge yourself.’

It was there, before greedy fingertips already twitching with anticipation, as if she were a child turned loose in a candy store and about to spring, all the restraint shown a final glance back to the adult who’d led her through the door with wide, questioning eyes.

‘Are you joking?’ she’d asked, with the same giddy awe.

Minthara had raised her brow, raised her arms to study the thick spider silk woven around them.

‘Have I mistakenly donned my jester’s bells rather than my armor?’ she had asked dryly. ‘The Absolute demands loyal soldiers ready to serve obediently, True Soul. Not clowns.’

It was a reasoning that made perfect sense to Kyrene, despite the way her mind flailed against the influence of the very tadpole the Nightwarden pledged allegiance to.

It felt dreamlike, too perfect to be true.

A moment in time she could satiate that unending demand for blood gnawing at her insides until she felt hollowed out, fill it back with torn flesh and splintered bone and a flood of gushing crimson plentiful enough to drown anyone without the appetite to greedily gulp it downs.

And yet, for the first time — and this was the most seductive part, what truly made her swoon — safe, contained.

She could do it all without the fear prickling at the back of her neck that she would lose herself to it, lose herself before she’d ever really found herself in the first place.

No, no. All those fears were smoke dissipating in the breeze. The tight vice of the Nightwarden’s authority would contain her, offer her warm embrace rather than rejection when she returned in blood soaked rags picked from slain bodies.

She had worried, for but a moment as she walked through the threshold, that the second part wouldn’t happen, that she’d been foolish, so naïve as always, building her own world covered with a tint of rose that would never trickle past the domain of her own deluded mind.

But now Minthara’s powerful arms circled her as she kissed her deeply, made her feel so tightly held and kept in place.

It was all Kyrene had ever craved, more than she could have dreamed: to feel embraced and controlled at the same time, the promise that someone —

“I’ve got you, little alvassun,” Minthara managed to finish Kyrene’s flurry of thoughts for her just as her knees buckled, grounding her back in her body as sure as the arm wrapped at the small of her back kept her in place.

Kyrene stuttered out a pleasured gasp in excuse for gratitude, the term fluttering against her ears with a warm endearment despite her uncertainty as to its meaning.

‘Little’ was itself enough to make her cheeks flush with the weight of fancy, with her spindly limbs draped awkwardly over Minthara’s shoulders. With boots of her armor kicked aside, the inches Kyrene stretched over the Nigthwarden became all the more obvious, making her feel even more clumsy and unwieldy.

But Minthara manipulated her body with a fluid ease, guiding her back seated atop the table, long legs dangling as Minthara slotted herself between them. “In other circumstance I would find it disgraceful, possessing such frailty you’re incapable of even standing on your own two feet without wilting.”

Kyrene’s graze dropped to the floor as lithe fingers slipped beneath her chin, thumb settling just below her lips. “But I suppose I cannot fault you for being overwhelmed with excitement at the prospect of sharing a night with me,” she added before leaning in to kiss her again.

Kyrene sighed into her, melting and winding tight simultaneously — relief paired with another wave of prickling nerves, unsure exactly what to do. Unsure of much of anything other than that Minthara had her.

Minthara had her, so she could do what she wanted, couldn’t she? Wasn’t that always it?

Indulge.

Kyrene had the vague inkling of memories of other lovers, of bodies pressed against hers in ecstasy. But she couldn’t remember faces or names or whether it ended with spasming insides ripped out to be kissed by the light of the world.

And for the short stretch of her life she could remember with any clarity, Kyrene was far more familiar with desperately trying to ensure her hands were stiffly kept to themselves than she was with allowing them to go and do as they wished. She wondered where she should place them on Minthara’s body, how to let them be driven by desire to please rather than destroy the flesh they found.

Unsure as they were, they explored to find soft curves and firm muscle, ridges of bone and wisps of silvery white hair. They found skin, so much beautiful, smooth skin her mouth watered to taste in wake of the glide of her fingers.

They reached beneath the firm spidersilk of her clothing to feel more, fingertips brushing over pebbled flesh hugging pert nipple.

She whimpered, a shudder running through her and causing her own nipples to harden and her jaw to tense — her teeth clamping down into the tender flesh of the lips she kissed.

Followed by the cold rush of fear swarming her for the first time since they’d begun their embrace, the sickening threat of losing control.

She yelped and jerked back as if she’d been the one bitten, brow furrowing upward in apology as her eyes settled on the heavy throbbing of Minthara’s pulse — she felt it in her own jugular, blood leaping to the surface, pounding at the delicate layer of skin in which it came gift wrapped.

But Minthara only smirked in return, a sharp curve of freshly flushed lips, crimson bleeding through rose bleeding through violet.

Was it alright? Kyrene wondered. Could she let her body do as it pleased?

Kyrene offered a sheepish smile and dropped to her knees, bone thudding with a painful smack against the stone floor, and laid fingertips at the hem of Minthara’s trousers.

“Tell me what to do,” she whispered, raising her chin, her eyes lingering at the Nightwarden’s hips as she gripped the fabric and pulled.

“Oh, you will do quite nicely indeed,” Minthara replied, dragging a thumb along Kyrene’s lower lip, pressing just past to its slick underside. “Already in your place, so ready to please.”

She nodded eagerly, looked on with bated breath as Minthara’s thumb scraped past teeth to guide Kyrene’s jaw to drop, fingers curling around her chin to pull her closer as she widened her stance to leave no room for confusion.

“Go on and taste,” she invited, sliding her hand around to cradle the back of Kyrene’s skull. “Lap up every last drop, until we’re both satisfied.”

Just as Kyrene thought her heart couldn’t pound any harder against her ribs, it became enough she felt as if it could leap between their gaps and pour right onto the floor at the fresh promise of gorging herself — perhaps it would have, if her body weren’t so driven and held together by the need to keep going, to have her.

She opened wide on instinct to taste as much as she could of Minthara, as if the chance could disappear if she didn’t swiftly swallow it down — the feeling of smooth, plush skin against her lips and tongue only intensifying hunger.

She pulled herself back to center, closed the clumsy gaping of her lips as if in a proper kiss. She pushed her tongue past pursed lips and buried her face further between Minthara’s legs, gave a few clumsy laps of her tongue along swollen skin before allowing it to travel to her center.

The slickness she tasted felt like sparks against her tongue — sharp and sweet all at once. She curled her tongue in to savor, gulped hard. And the world seemed to grow fogged over with her.

Her head grew light and her cheeks hot, she felt as if she’d been sipping wine. She unfurled her tongue to allow it to search for more.

Her head swam, dizzied, all flashes of colors and hot cold chills, electric humming in her ears, down to her molars.

Her stomach clenched and that wanting ache surged fresh just below, that feeling of being hollow and high charged, of needing to be fucked, filled, touched — anything to relieve the pressure.

She felt a reflexive thrust forward of her hips in searching as she dragged her tongue back and forth, increasing pace until she was lapping greedily.

She dared to reach down, to drag a thumb along the seam of her bloomers to test if the slight touch would soothe her or threaten to send the frenzy building in her boiling over.

Her spine arched inward with the jolt of ecstasy that shot through every nerve from her own teasing touch, the featherlight sensation of cotton clinging to her from dampness suddenly overwhelming even as she jerked the hand away. A moan quaked from deep inside her up through the column of her throat to spill from quivering lips, the only release of tension available.

She slid her mouth upward along Minthara’s lips before parting for air, allowing hot, ragged breaths to fall against her clit.

It was but a few heaves of Kyrene’s chest before Minthara spoke.

She reached down to pull Kyrene’s arm by the wrist, guiding her hand between her legs, deep voice seeming to have gained its own subtle tremor as she instructed, “If your mouth fails you, put those hands of yours to work.”

Kyrene was all too eager to comply.

She inhaled deeply as she slipped her fingers inside of Minthara, her final effort to catch her breath before she tensed her lips into a ring and covered Minthara’s clit.

Feeling Minthara on her fingers was almost as intoxicating as tasting her, luxurious satin wrapping tight around her touch to chase. She took the signal to suckle harder on her clit, the only thing still tethering her to reality the drive to give Minthara more, give her as much as she wanted.

“Good,” Minthara gasped out in appreciation, timbre of her voice somehow as rich as ever despite her own increasingly obvious struggle for air. “Keep doing good for me, my girl.”

Kyrene felt tears cling to her lashes as she squeezed her eyes shut tight in focus, willing herself to keep going rather than crumble to pieces at the praise, to once again seek more more more as much as she could handle. To suck until her jaw ached, thrust her fingers until her arm burned from knuckles to elbow.

And even without words the telltale twitch and tighten of the Nightwarden around her fingers as she stroked a hand from the crown of Kyrene’s head down to the nape of her neck and up again was praise enough, made her heart flutter in her chest as it swelled with warmth. And when that tight grip around her fingers suddenly snapped loose and fluttered in the same rhythm, Kyrene willed her eyes to shoot open, rolling to the back of her head to glimpse Minthara tossing her head back and letting out a satisfied ‘ah.’

The brush of Minthara’s fingers slowed and settled at her neck as she rode out her finish, rocking against her mouth and hands.

“Good,” she repeated, hoarsened yet still. She stepped back, leaving Kyrene’s outstretched fingers suddenly chilled in the air. “You’ve earned something for yourself.”

Without delay Minthara reached down to slide arms beneath Kyrene, leaving her in awe of her quickly recovered strength as she lifted her up to prop her on the table.

Kyrene could feel her own heavy pulse reverberate against Minthara’s lips as she trailed kisses down her throat, her own fragile life cradled in the hands that teased at her thighs.

“P-Please —” she gasped, arching her back towards the Nightwarden, arms tangling around her neck. “Please — Give me —” She gasped, trying to make sense of what she wanted. Trying to make sense of the heavy throb that rattled through her very bones, made her feel every inch of her body with sudden awareness. “I want you, I want you to —”

“You beg so easily,” Minthara rumbled against the slope of pale pink cleavage flushed to match the deep rose nipples she then flicked her tongue against. “But as lovely as it is, it is unnecessary. I won’t deny you. Not a single whim.”

The notion ratcheted through Kyrene’s mind in a whirlwind, possibilities stoking themselves to life to one after another snatch her attention so quickly she couldn’t process one to its conclusion as a full thought, a cacophony of buried impulses shrieking in her ear.

( — warm flesh pressed hard and harder still until — teeth and nails thrashing, spikes of pain rippling to — sweet taste of her lingering on her tongue taste of salt clinging to skin taste of copper as blood pooled in her mouth taste of — tight tight tight squeezing until — full, finally full and —)

As Kyrene tried to blink away the shadows closing around her vision she realized Minthara was kneeling on a single knee between her legs, leisurely trailing fingers along her thighs before pausing to study the deep purple bruising that had bloomed to life on bony knees from their time pressed against the hard stone ground.

“A lovely color on you,” Minthara said with a devastatingly gorgeous smile. “Made all the lovelier knowing how it came to be.”

She bowed her head to press a delicate kiss to the skin before pulling down Kyrene’s ruffled shorts, parting her lips and dipping her head towards the place she ached most.

“N-No,” Kyrene gasped before she could stop herself, the look of half-shock, half-offense the Nightwarden gave her at the word more stomach churning than the spark of fear that had moved her to speak. “No, I want…”

(— want pounding blood want limbs falling limp want to keep — )

“I want you up here,” she finished, fluttering her eyelashes. “I want you to use your hands.”

Because she didn’t know what she’d do, if their bodies weren’t mirrored. If it wasn’t Minthara’s mouth against hers and rich crimson gaze staring back at her and her beautiful voice drowning out the noise of her thoughts.

“I want the sound of your voice, want you to talk to me through it. Tell me when to let go,” she said, slipping into that second meaning with a slowly fading fear attached. “I want you to look into my eyes. I want you to kiss me. I want you.”

She didn’t know what she’d do if they weren’t one in this moment, if she couldn’t feel her own body anchored by Minthara’s.

Minthara’s expression softened, and she offered a thoughtful ‘hm’ and a kiss to the opposite knee before she rose to stand.

“I promised you your every whim,” she rasped, pressing her forehead to Kyrene’s. “I’ll gladly indulge this one.”

Indulge.

Kyrene allowed her head to loll back as Minthara stroked knuckles along the length of silken folds, pinching her lower lip between her teeth as her heart raced at the idea of Minthara indulging in her, desiring her without restraint.

It was all she ever wanted.

“Take me,” Kyrene croaked out, a small squeak she was unsure could even be heard.

Minthara gave her a single hum of a laugh as she pressed a firm finger into her, kissing the length of throat Kyrene exposed. “You were already mine.”

Kyrene panted, she felt wine drunk again — a good feeling, she decided, all warm sensation that electrified her, but kept her too heavied and dazed to know what to do with it on her own.

“You will be mine still, when you lay back in bed at your camp tonight,” she continued, teasing a second finger at her entrance to wet its tip before slipping it to join the first. “You will be mine when you close your eyes and drift away.”

She bucked her hips forward as Minthara angled her hand to press its heel against Kyrene’s clit, grinding slowly. She curled her hands into fists until her nails sliced into the palm of her own hand, picturing the blood seeping half-moons that must be forming there.

“You will fall apart for me, then beg to be mine again,” she leaned forward to whisper into Kyrene’s ear, breath near to scalding as it fell against her already blood deepened and friction chapped cheeks. “You will belong to me for as long as you can stand tonight.”

Kyrene released the worried flesh of her lips from between her teeth long enough to let out a high pitched whine, then bit down harder.

But before she could suck down the blood that trickled from it, Minthara’s tongue glided to whisk it away and nudge teeth to part.

“There’s no need to be shy,” she coaxed between delicate kisses. “You may put your hands on me again.”

“I want to,” Kyrene whimpered, feeling her stomach coil tight enough to push the air from her lungs. She could feel herself drawing close to her finish, to the point of inevitability, to an end that was still too unsure, too overwhelming. “I can’t,” she forced out, sliding her hands back. “I need — I want to —”

Perhaps she should have warned Minthara, about the way she was prone to losing herself. That she was drawn to her by a trail of blood from the very beginning.

Warned her before it was too late, before it felt too good to tell her to stop before control snapped.

“I want to — I shouldn’t hold you,” she near sobbed, feeling far too raw and worn down to her very core, like bones laid bare then gnawed even further to their marrow. “I want you to hold me, I want to — I want —”

She shook her head at the sound of her own incoherent words hitting her ears, tensed in tight — then relaxed fully, stilling herself and dropping the barricade of her mind as she looked into Minthara’s eyes.

She floated in some no-man’s space, almost nauseous as Minthara stared back at her with a blank expression, stuck between terror and sheer bliss. There was knowing, in crimson eyes, but she couldn’t tell yet if that sickened or enticed her.

“I see,” Minthara said plainly, the tension in Kyrene’s stomach feeling equally uncertain.

But then Minthara smiled again, smiled that beautiful, elegant smile Kyrene thought must have brightened the whole underdark.

“I know what it is you wish,” she whispered, fingers thrusting more forcefully, as if she was no longer holding back.

Her other hand reached for Kyrene’s discarded bloomers, a flash of blinding white across Kyrene’s lust blurred vision as she caught their hem between her teeth — then jerked her arm to tear a long strip of cloth from it, left hanging from her mouth.

“And you shall have it,” Minthara murmured around fabric, just as her hand pulled away to leave the overstimulated skin suddenly meeting only cold air.

Kyrene’s desperate cry of protest was silenced by Minthara’s lips, her tongue slipping into her mouth to feed her the faint taste of blood from an unsure source as her arms circled around her.

Kyrene heard the sound of fabric brushing against fabric and felt her wrists suddenly pulled together, pulse drumming against matching pulse as she made sense of the fingers darting about to tie the torn remnants of her shorts around her wrist to bind them.

Minthara gave a final tug of the ends to fasten the makeshift restraint tight enough to cut into skin, a pleasant and reassuring sting that sent Kyrene’s blood boiling all the hotter.

“There,” Minthara said as her hands circled around the blonde’s waist and back to center.

It was a single but torturously slow rake of Minthara’s eyes down her body, settling with particular cruelty on hips desperately bucking forward in search of anything that could grant the return of friction, a stuttering plea her mouth couldn’t manage.

“If only I had thought to do this sooner, so I could properly toy with you,” Minthara sighed, mercifully resituating her hand between her legs. “If I couldn’t already see just how pretty you’re going to look, coming undone around my fingers.”

Thankfully, this time Minthara didn’t go one by one when she slipped fingers inside her — Kyrene realized she had in fact added a third as she felt the exhilarating stretch of tender flesh and muscle as they reached deeper than before while Minthara kept her free hand at the small of her back to push her to the table’s ledge, leaving her nowhere to go.

Not that she would have wanted to go anywhere — she never wanted her heart to beat any slower or her skin to feel any cooler or the pull around fingers to be any looser or the thread she hung by to be any less frayed and thin.

“I want to see it right now,” Minthara purred, her voice so dark and strong with that firm authority that had first made Kyrene swoon, made it all feel so undeniable. “Go on.”

She lifted the hand from Kyrene’s back and brought it to her front, this time pressing only a single thumb against her clit — teasingly, at first, despite the unrelenting pace of her fingers, a slow back and forth swipe along the lips that hugged it.

“It’s alright,” she reassured, eyes appearing almost soft as crimson darkened. “Let go, my sweet alvassun.”

The movement against her clit was so suddenly forceful and focused that Kyrene couldn’t have refused even if she’d wanted to, a final deep thrust of fingers inside her before they curled to press in a way that made pleasure spark brightest.

The thread she hung by snapped with such a forceful rebound it felt as if it sent Kyrene hurtling through space, as if she were being tossed about in a flurrying storm of bliss, powerless against its winds buffeting her chapped skin.

All that kept her anchored was the savoring delight flashing across Minthara’s face as she kept her gaze settled between Kyrene’s legs, thumb resuming its slow, teasing stroke over oversensitive clit as she pulsed around now resting still fingers.

And she felt the chafing of fabric against her wrists as her body writhed, what she focused on most as she rode out those final waves.

When she finally came down, those tied wrists were what Minthara reached for first as she pressed a kiss to Kyrene’s shoulder, pulling the fabric loose.

She brought a wrist to her lips, kissing the bright red ring that had formed on them from the friction just as she had her bruised knees.

“I cannot decide,” Minthara broke the silence to say as she pulled Kyrene’s head in to rest against her chest, so that she could hear the heavy drum of her heartbeat. “If it is comfort or unease it brings me — the stillness and quietness I feel when I am with you.”

Kyrene made a soft noise of agreement as awareness dawned on her how quiet her own thoughts had been, nothing but the warmth of Minthara’s body against her own filling her mind — and more incredibly, that the abrupt awareness didn’t shatter the serenity, send her back to a rush of unbidden wants.

“It doesn’t have to be one or the other,” Kyrene mused, snaking arms beneath Minthara’s to hold her and reaching up to allow hands to play absentmindedly at the silver hairs falling along the nape of her neck. “It can be both, I think.”

She had accepted that — that just as the boundaries between their minds didn’t have to exist, neither did the boundary between being at peace or at war with herself, between fear and excitement, between control and letting go, pleasure and pain, life and death.

She she still couldn’t guarantee which the night would end with as Minthara nodded in a way that nuzzled her nose against Kyrene’s neck, her breath tickling as she rested there, seemingly content to stay.

It didn’t matter, as long as it was her.

#nsft #this is largely just me taking the excuse to tinker with the canon romance content and playing around finding their voices #which i’m definitely still in the early stages of so. excuse shakiness.#kinda wanted to review and tweak more as well but i have another goal set for myself for tomorrow so alas #oh also not really worthy of a warning but maybe worthy of context for the throwaway line i probably should have cut for lack thereof:#kyrene had her feelings big hurt from shadowheart speaking meanies to her for hacking gale’s hand off (she had a crush on shadowheart</3)#otp: my tether‚ my freedom #<- also hey we have a proper ship name now finally #kyrenthara placeholder tag #<- for me going back to organize shit from when we didn’t #oc: kyrene multhoma #c: minthara baenre #kintober #StarsAndSkiesKinktober

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mthofferings2023 · 1 year ago

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areiton

See areiton’s existing works here.

Preferred contact methods: Email: [email protected] Twitter: areiton_ Tumblr: areiton Discord: areiton

Preferred organizations: - National Network of Abortion Funds - Rainbow Railroad - Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network (RAINN) (See the list of approved organizations here)

Will create works that contain: Arranged marriage, No Powers AU, found family, soulmates, magical realism, canon divergent, almost any AUs, future fic, dark!characters, fluff WITH angst (I can’t do one without the other.), creature fic, fake dating, mutual pining, time travel, genderbent, role reversal. I have a fondness for team dynamics and kidfic, for retellings (you want a Hercules AU?? I’m your girl). I like twisting tropes and poking plot to see what falls out.

Will not create works that contain: Underage, rape/non-con, torture, whump, PWP (I don’t mind writing explicit, but there will need to be more than just folks having sex), LGBTQ issue driven stories, strictly fluff. I will not write explicit character bashing. I will not write crossovers with other fandoms. I will not write reconciliation post divorce. Hydra Cap. Pre-serum SICKLY Steve–I will write pre-serum Steve, but won’t focus on his ailments.

-- Fic or Other Writing --

Auction ID: 1122

Will create works for the following relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark - Any Universe

Work Description: Fic may increase in length based on bidding, but final length will be dependent on the needs of the story, though no shorter than 20k or longer than 35k. My writing styles tends toward very concise stories, so I won’t guarantee a long epic—but if I don’t consider the length of the final story to be adequate for the winning bid, I will be happy to write a second prompt of no more than 10k from my prompt list. This will be determined between the winning bidder and me. I would strongly PREFER to write from the list of prompts pinned on my Twitter account. If there is an agreed upon prompt by January, this will be the first big project of 2024. I am open on a very select basis to sequels or continuations of my existing stories—please check with me if you’re interested in that. A retelling of popular movies, myths, or fairy tales are my jam so please feel free. I work best when given a loose prompt, a prompt that comes with a musical inspo, or a visual prompt. I love dark fic, silver fox/twink dynamics, and pining for unreasonable amounts of time. I love soulmates, arranged marriage, and worldbuilding. I prefer to skim canon events and fill in the holes left by canon rather than recreate the wheel. While most of my stories are slash, I do enjoy including writing Tony and Peter as a father and son dynamic. Please expect that Rhodey will be a major supporting character in anything I write.

Ratings: Gen, Teen, Mature, Explicit

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stopthatfool · 1 year ago

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3, 77 :333

YAAAAA FENTOMY ILYYY

77. Do you have a favourite scene you've written from Your jeep. Your teeth. The coffee that you bought me.?

omg ummmmmm... i think it's this scene from chapter 3 about Mav's mom (whom I made up, she is not 'canon') idk i was just really proud of like.. the imagery? i think that's the word. I was also proud of how much this short scene tells you about Flo Mitchell as a character and as Mav's mom.

Pete had watched as his mother parked haphazardly, crooked, and partially on the dead grass on their front lawn. He watched her fling open the car door and slam it shut, clearly on some mission toward the front door. The flag next to the door hung static and still, like a dead animal strung up on a line waiting to be slashed and skinned, waiting to be picked apart and eaten, waiting for its entire life to come full circle and rot in some hunters stomach, waiting for its own bones to be thrown out and picked apart by the maggots. The flag hung dead, unsentient, while Pete’s mother– she was anything but. She walked up to the flag, shoes clacking on the cracked pavement, her arms swaying at her sides. She unhooked the flag from its stand, her hair billowing in the sudden wind. It turned alive as soon as she touched it, flowy and slippery, squirming and wriggling through her fingers. Flo balled up her fists in the fabric to stop the movement, the life that erupted from it transferring from her to the flag. As she walked back to the car, the flag slithered and moved with the waves created by Flo Mitchell. Then Pete watched as she opened the back door and threw the flag into the back seat. It lay there, dead and unmoving once again, sprawled out against the leather, the stripes overlapping and the stars crumpled and muddled. Flo picked up Pete from the passenger seat and cradled him against her side as they walked up to their new house. Pete yawned, “Why did you do that–? To the flag?” His mother only steered her head forward, eyes serious and focused, “That flag keeps your daddy away from me– from us–” She looked up to the setting sun, the sky all orange and yellow, “Why should I fly the thing that keeps him away– that puts him in danger?”

Flo Mitchell supremacy!! Anti-war queen and Tammy Wynette fan! She's just like me....

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic.

i thought you'd never ask (this is going to be long sorry (im saying this as if it's not already long))!!

i cannot, for the life of me, work directly from the computer. I am a "traditional artist" (whatever that even means) at heart, meaning that I have to do everything on paper </3. So for the first idea of Your jeep. Your teeth. The coffee that you bought me. i mapped it out very loosely in my silly little notebook.

(i blocked out spoilers (maybe) for future chapters...) check out my terrible handwriting! and check out how different the plot was! What was i thinking? "Mav bumps into Ice with Bradley after visiting Carole" yeah... sure. But once i had that loose idea i started writing in that same notebook and things kind of went from there.

And then i realized that i should probably plan out the chapters on paper so there's some consistency. so that leads to the little list-like mind maps that i make--

This is from before i learned TOP GUN moved to Nevada (sigh). In these list-like mind maps is where i come up with some of the important dialogue that needs to happen between characters ("I don't need to see a fucking shrink, Kazansky") and it was in these that the plot really began to change from that first mind map. I've made these mind maps for every chapter that needs to happen for the story.

Then after the mind map, I actually begin to write all the scenes out. after i physically write them out, i type it all up in google docs (sigh). AND THEN i copy and paste it all paragraph by paragraph into Grammarly (free edition i am not paying for that) and edit it all. And then i do it again. and then one more time. and then i post it. im crazy.

Thank u for putting in the ask!!! ily fentomy!!! i love talking about my fanfic (as you have so kindly suffered through these past weeks, thank you.) <333

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chocolatepot · 1 year ago

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Tagged by @wistfulcynic!

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason. <3

First fic: Our Little Gathering, for Chocolate Box in 2016 - Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, specifically the book version. 2016 feels WAY too late because I had an AO3 account long before that, but I guess I was only reading?? The fic is about Arabella's abduction to Lost Hope and her friendship with Emma Pole.

(Not on AO3, but my first fic EVER is Some things never change..., a three chapter continuation of the Enchanted Forest Chronicles from 2000. Oh lord.)

Last fic: It Never Was Anywhere You, the first chapter! Do you like unhinged? Do you like genderbends? Do you like Stizzy? Do you like unhinged genderbent Stizzy??? It's entirely written and will all be posted before Oct. 5.

Only once: I actually have a lot of these from doing multifandom/small-fandom fests. The one I will highlight is A Sensible Couple, the only Sanditon fic I will ever write. It's a Stringer/Charlotte marriage of convenience fic, kind of a fix-it from my perspective.

Favorite fic from the fandom I've written in most: In OFMD, of course. I think it's A Perfect Pair - not my first genderbend but the one where I just let loose. Buckets of angst for both Ed and Stede, an unplanned sex scene that basically wrote itself, and I had to work at the writing in a really satisfying way (to keep them from reconciling too quickly, lol).

Fic I wish more people read: I have an ego and I wish more people read all my works, lmao, but the reception for Fiercely, my brief Marial/Catherine fic (The Great), got me all grouchy. I have every intention of writing more of this ship despite the fact that the fandom isn't into it.

Fic I agonized over: Torn between Powerless and Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, because I agonized over both of these. BTDATDBS was emotionally wrenching to write, as I put Stede through the absolute wringer in it with no reprieve until the end, and I also just couldn't figure out how to accomplish the final chapter, so it put me through the wringer as well. Powerless was ... actually not that hard to write, but BOY did I work myself up over the idea that I was going to be crucified for posting it.

Fic that sprang fully formed: there'll be peace of mind, a hurt/comfort fic where the reunion occurs between a slightly injured Ed and both physically and psychologically injured Stede. It was really magical because @appleteeth's prompts lined up exactly with what I'd been hoping to write.

Work(s) I'm proud of: I was tempted to say Prisons, but I think it's gotta be He That Plays the King, my novella from 2022's Hurt/Comfort Exchange. I'm still slightly amazed that I wrote it, tbh! It's "original slash", very iddy, 30k, about kingship and masculinity and Anglo-Saxon England.

A tag to summon: @ghostalservice, @nicnacsnonsense, @adickaboutspoons, @thetardigrape, @oatmilktruther

#and anyone else can feel free to steal it!#writing #fandom #ao3 #writing meme

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spidey29phangirl · 1 year ago

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A League of Assassins Summon

<< Part 1. >>

Danny knows he is High Prince of Ghosts. It is a title, one he has yet to acknowledge because he is not accepting this role without earning his high school diploma first.

He thinks it’s only fair. He won’t put everything aside just because the Infinite Realms itself had chosen its h̴̡̯̝͎̥̳̾́̋̽͗̚͜ȩ̵͔̯̪̭̜̖̰̊́̄î̵̡̙͆̓͝r̶̢̬̬̼̺͈̖͇͉̐— whatever that’s supposed to mean.

That over the course of months, has turned on him— because who would guessed acting as a royal figure while not exerting power has loose ends. summonings mainly, whole runes in the ground and deals and vessels shtick. 0/10, not fun to find out about. Now, he’s been on quite few to be caught off guard on what he expects from one, so the darkened room with scented candles and ninjas he can slide, however the green boiling ectoplasm and spilled puddle of dirty red outlining it are of definite concern. …not his though, Danny’s pointedly ignoring his mentor telling him to start involving himself in matters that have otherworldly provenance, the half-ghost’s sure this was not what he meant.

He’s both invisible and intangible as he hovers over the circle with wariness close to his chest, the ninjas below have not given a prod to his presence and actually, what the fuck. he knows the tells firsthand on the press and c-grade feeling a summoning evokes on the room and this is not good. for this people to go with it or for the very stench of death to go unnoticed meant the ambient energy of the place must be permeated heavily. Danny could… sense it if he concentrated, an air so stale that clinged on like a mantle meant to choke the life out him and cradle him to a lull to forget his day problems.

err. that was striking, but Danny really couldn’t tell the difference of what the ectoplasm here wanted, his core hummed with the major feels and sensations it was getting

( return ṗ̷͎̮̤l̴̳̟̄̉̕e̴̛͚͉̘̹a̶͔̓́̅̀ͅs̴̢̄͗͘e̴̻͚͂̎̀ i wanna go back, kill, help i don’t ḍ̷̟̈́ē̷͓̭͙s̸͚̔e̸̯͒͒͐̔r̷̼͝v̸̧̹̯͆͗e̸̱̫̐̀̓͘ this, kill, kill, heal the u̸̥͉̦̤̓̈́̈́ń̴̹̜̙̏͗̚w̸̮̙̭̖̃̓͠ỉ̴̝̊l̶͚̲̺̀͊͜l̷͓̖̓̂î̵̬̪̳͈n̷̪̰̹̆͠g̸̣̪͍͗, please let me s̷̬̟͑̐ẗ̵͍̘́̉̽͝ȧ̷̧̙̲ỷ̷̢͖͇̲, go back, kill, no, go back, protect it return— no, kill kill k̵̟̺̫͔̎͗̇i̸̲͗͒̐l̸̢̖͚̆̕ͅl̵̲̠̒̃ kill )

it was bloodlust and troubling insistance and a yearning so heartbreaking that tugged at him, in an almost synch with the chanting that still kept going. It all felt like scratching a vinyl disc, hearing it was getting uncomfortable real fast. He exhaled through his nose and pulled onto his core’s cold center, trying for calm and peaceful until whatever it was dulled enough for the sensations to not feel like phantom ants crawling up his arms. Danny breathed out in relief, however it seemed as if the very room had held up its breath with him — as the half dead entity blew air out, all the candles lit up in green snuffled out.

Then a thing happened. Plunging the room in sudden darkness made a pair of green glowing eyes so painstakingly similar to his impossible not to notice. The other froze like a deer caught in headlights and oh. w̵̝͎̣̭̩̋r̵̩̣̝̀͋̓̔̕ỏ̵̡̮̲͇̲͂̉ṇ̸̗̦̖̜̓̀́͒̚ḡ̸͓͍͠ ?

His core writhed with empathy, why really, the teen didn’t actually know. Danny was truly more confused than anything, entirely at lost of what the other was. dead and alive and yet not a ghost, he was like and unlike him and also not really a halfa in the ways the fruitloop, his sis - slash - cousin and him were. everything was just all over the place with the other what with his core and negative emotional regulator and summon (up in his to-do list find out if he’s the head behind this to punch him real hard. Danny was in the middle of something —)

A sigh escapes him, guess he can always ask

….

Yeahhh, we know how that usually ends. poor danny, his resignation is all over that sigh. That boy may be High Prince of The Undead, but he’s like sixteen, he has no idea what’s going on. that and literally not wanting to, doesn’t stop Danny from making all this his problem now.

next, will be Jason’s pov. hopefully. send help i’ve never actually written him ahh

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #jason todd #red hood #lazarus pit #pit madness #ectoplasm #ghost king danny #actually ghost prince Danny #he’s babey #not king yet #league of assasins #summoning #summons #ghost cores #dc universe #danny boi

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lcec0ldheart · 7 months ago

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Time to introduce my OCs‼️

Oh boy! Here we are!

Since I’m beginning to use tumblr, I can now finally introduce my trio of disasters! I’ve been waiting a while to start talking about them, and I think putting them here is better than info dumping on my private account lol. With that out of the way, let’s go!

VIOLET STARIUS⭐️🌙

(Funfact: She’s the newest of my ocs, being first made only a month or two ago! Loosely inspired by Liko, but she’s changed quite a lot since then!)

The first, and youngest of the trio! Violet is 14 years old, her birthday being January 31st. She’s a curious, intelligent, somewhat shy gal. Kind, empathetic, caring, and wants to help others. She loves space -and in the pokémon version of her- pokémon as well. You’ll find her reading, drawing something, or playing her violin, and while she’s a bit nervous, she’s open to try new things to learn them, as she wants to learn what does the world around her hold! Though, Violet’s a bit forgetful, clumsy, and gets lost easily…She’s also a bit of a people pleaser, and is terrible at lying. The heart of the group, as she’s why the three have managed to form a strong friendship.

Violet has the ability to use telekenesis, via focusing energy using her hand onto objects (or people!) to move them around, to wherever she wants them to go. She can also see in the dark, hear very well, and her eyes glow in the dark for some reason…While she doesn’t like to fight, she’s good at dodging and using the oppenent’s movements against them.

FROST AURORA❄️🏹

(Second image is a shitpost. Funfact, he’s the first oc I made that’s listed here, being first thought up in november 2023!)

The second of the trio! Frost is 15 years old, his birthday is December 25th! He’s a more reserved/aloof guy. He’s also quite smart, especially in terms of tactics and fights! Frost is swift, chilling, and tenacious! Sassy, and he can get angry or spiteful. Despite this, he’s pretty considerate, and stands up for what he believes is right. Frost is somewhat stubborn, antisocial, but he wants to do the right thing. You’ll find him practicing the gutiar, drawing, or thinking. He wants to find his purpose and be strong for those he cares for -even if it means taking drastic measures.

Frost has the power to cool the temperature of stuff to the point it’ll freeze, being able to create ice and snow out of the water droplets in the air. He can manipulate ice too, and he’s skilled with a bow and arrow! He usually goes in for a fast attack, then getting out of the opponent's range until they’ve been defeated, though he knows how to put up a fight in close quarters as well.

CITRINE GOLDENHEART🗡️💛

(I still need to actually draw her, but this will have to do for now. Fun fact, the first concept of her was “what if this cartoon character was in pokémon”)

The last, and the oldest of the three! Citrine is 16 years old, and her birthday is on April 13th! An adventurous, hot-headed, brave and passionate girl. She can be impulsive and sometimes fails to consider the consequences of others, but she means well! Outgoing, reckless, and tackles things head on! She’s the most athletic of the three, being physically strong with good stamina. Citrine’s also very persistent, and will literally refuse to give up. Ever. It’s both one of her greatest strengths and flaws. She likes to play the drums, or go for a run, and…write? I know, surprising, but she loves creating stories, to tell during her journey or inspired by her adventures!

Citrine is real good with a sword, she was very excited when she found one! Turns out she likes stabbing and slashing whatever stands in her way! She’s best in close combat, using her sword to deliver strong attacks to deal a lot of damage! She tends to get hit, but being so perseverant and stubborn allows her to keep fighting until her opponent falls.

I hope that wasn’t too boring to read, but now I’ve introduced my main OCs! I’ll probably ramble about them on here, if you don’t like that sorry lol, this is my blog im the one writing about these idiots at 10 pm

Joking, though it is actually late! Thank you for reading all the way through, and I hope you have a lovely day! Bye byeee

#OC #my ocs #The disaster trio #Thats what im naming them btw bc they’re all complete disasters in their own unique way <3 #yuh #Violet Starius #Frost Aurora #Citrine Goldenheart #I came up with Citrine and Frost’s (kinda) last name on the spot lol #I think they work well enough though #I would love to get asks about my characters!

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artyandink · 2 years ago

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the girl that kindness forgot | part 2

THERE’S NO ONE AS RECKLESS AS YOU

“Laila, are you absolutely sure that it’s a Type 2?” I frantically asked, speaking through my earpiece.

‘I did my research. Unusual and powerful activity confirms that it’s a type 2.’

“Pull up a list of all former residents. I need to find out who this ghost is and what’s their reason to haunt people.” I ordered, before pulling out my rapier and opening the door, finding a chaotic and significantly dangerous scene. Lockwood’s new employee was hanging from a picture frame desperately, screaming out for him to save her, and Lockwood himself was desperately fending the ghost off, loose articles of clothing like his tie and coat flapping around limply. I sprinted up the stairs, quickly spinning around and slashing my blade across the midsection of the translucent supernatural being, making it screech and retreat.

“I thought you were only useful if things got too dangerous.” Lockwood spat as I helped up the girl.

“You walked into a house with a very dangerous Type 2, so I think my help is in order.” I retorted before turning to the girl who looked my age. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” She replied. “Who are you?”

“No time. If this is too much for you, you need to leave the house and you’ll be safe.” I explained, but she shook her head.

“No. I’m staying.”

“Angry ghost over here!” I heard Lockwood yell, so I lit a flare and threw it swiftly, fending the ghost off again.

“What did you do to make her angry?!” I interrogated, somersaulting across the room.

”I dunno, maybe your outfit change did it!” Lockwood shot back, throwing another flare.

“You’re being really petty!”

“We don’t have time for this!”

“You’re right, Lucy!” I shouted, “We need to take this elsewhere.”

“How do you know her name?!”

We stood in front of a chimney breast, where the woman disappeared into.

“I got intel from my assistant. Her name’s Annabel Ward, she disappeared in the 80s. I’m banking my money on murder victim.” I explained, hands in my pockets.

“Of course you’ve got intel.” Lockwood snivelled.

“Grow up, will you?!” I snapped.

“Um…” I turned to Lucy, blinking at her because I was interrupted in the middle of my conversation. “Not to be rude, exactly, but who are you?”

”Sorry about that. My name’s Artemis Hernandez-“

“But Miss Hernandez in the office-“

”Shut up. Lockwood and I trained together before I left to help my parents with their company, SP3CTR.” I explained with a smile.

“You mean SP3CTR, the company that made billions, right?” Lucy gasped. “You own it?”

“Yeah. I do.” I grinned.

“Bloody hell-“

“Can we focus on the dead body?” Lockwood piped up, sounding irritated. We broke down the wall, finding the body in there. “I was right. She’s a murder victim.” I stared at him, hard. Really, mate?

“Use the silver net.” I ordered, holding my weapons at the ready. The male stepped back, his foot crunching something.

“Ooh, careful.” Lucy warned. “You broke the circle.” We fixed it, and my mind instantly connected with something.

“We’re not alone.” I whipped around to see Annabel herself, the doors slamming shut.

“Boring. Try something else, would you?” Lockwood taunted.

“Don’t!” Lucy contradicted. “She’s angry.”

“Living over dying, Lucy!” I lashed out, sending Annabel back, but she rebounded, knocking the rapier out of Lucy’s hand. Lockwood was distracted, so the ghost was advancing on him, and I felt a connection with her.

You’re just like him.

Help me…

Save me…

Let me go...

“LOCKWOOD!” I screamed, shielding him. “If you wanna get to him, you’ll have to go through me. And then you won’t get what you want, d’you understand?” I saw myself in Annabel, a girl cursed to be lost. And I wanted to help her, I really did.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Saving you, what else?” I retorted. “Now get the job done!”

“Alright, Lucy, I’m gonna hold her back with Hernandez. You get a silver net over the body. In other words, Plan F.”

“That's not Plan F.”

“Uh… I mean Plan B.”

“Plan B is salt bombs! She’s too strong for salt bombs!”

“For god’s sake! We’ll draw her attention, you contain the source.”

“That’s Plan E.”

“When this is done, you need to look over the lettering system!” I shouted, initiating the distraction part of the plan.

“Speak for Lockwood!” Lucy replied, covering the body with a net. However, she froze.

“EARTH TO LUCY!”

“Hurry, Lucy!” She suddenly whipped around, blindly throwing the flare. As if in slow motion, the flare exploded, the plaster catching on fire and started spreading quickly. Lucy ran to Lockwood, taking him by the shoulders. “Are you alright?”

“Apart from our client’s house burning to the ground, absolutely fine.”

“What took you so long? What exactly were you doing?” I asked, stepping forward.

“I told you. Something wasn’t right, I had to…”

“Had to what? What wasn’t right? We secured the source, didn’t we?”

“We should not be having this conversation here.” I cut in, climbing onto the balcony’s rail, Lockwood following.

“Agreed. We should jump from here while there’s still something to jump from.” Lockwood agreed.

“Jump? No, it’s too high, we’ll breaks our necks!” Lucy contradicted, eyes apprehensive.

“Do we have another option?!” I swiftly contested. “On my count. One, two, three!” We leapt from the balcony, landing in two crumpled heaps on the floor, but luckily we had no broken bones or necks. I’d landed on my feet, so as the other two got up, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Laugh it up, Hernandez.” Lockwood complained. “We need to get back to my house. And quickly.”

“What were you thinking, showing up like that?” Lockwood whispered angrily as we were walking back. “Lucy and I had it under control.”

“Let’s see, you angered a Type 2, set a house on fire and as the cherry on top, you almost got ghost touched. If I wasn’t there to help, then you’d both be dead.” I snapped equally as angry and quiet.

“You rejected helping me.”

“Now I’m aware that without my help, you most definitely will end up in a bad place.” I retorted.

“And why is that?”

“There’s no one more reckless than you, Anthony Lockwood.” I matched his gaze, icy blue meeting dark brown.

“I can think of someone.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“Artemis Hernandez.”

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x oc #george karim #lockwood and co #lucy carlyle #inspector barnes #turstin yaris hernandez #artemis hernandez

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mirthlxss · 1 year ago

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Off to the races

Chapter 10: He loves me, with every beat of his cocaine heart

“You need to remember who’s on your side.”

master list

price x oc, series.

a03: pricescigar, Off to the races is posted in full.

taglist: @deadbranch , @jxvipike, @smoggyfogbottom

warnings: just two stubborn idiots really.

a/n: a series of bad decisions.

Lilith shifted with his mood, dictated to by tone as she lived in the Captain’s wake. Slithers of tenderness. Sympathy, always. But it wasn’t always clear, had to be watched carefully because he was a fickle man, narrative swayed with the direction of the smoke that left his lungs, feelings left to the breeze as he wrestled with the ebb and flow of his mounting responsibilities, tidal waves crashing on the shore of his desire. He’d swim and swim, never quite making it to the sand.

Here, pleading, chaste kisses pressed to his hand, reverent even as she presented herself before him, soft and belly up. He remained quiet, she did not feel the need to retreat just yet, lips hovering, eyes downcast. She could morph with him, predict the mood, armed and entrenched within herself, she could recoil, each pointed bone that protruded from her form serving as a blade. Soft or sharp? Desperate writhing back and forth from belly to back as she grappled with the need to rip herself apart and present humble and vulnerable, no threat to him, beating heart and bleeding flesh. To invite his worry to borrow in, wrap itself beneath sinew and muscle so that they may agree on something better, nurse a solution together. Something liveable. But John knows, the only thing viable that spawns from himself is death. He could deliver himself and his worries unto her to swallow but what point in soiling fertile promise with rot?

He will not tell her. She will not rot.

His silence is deafening and the horrid shift begins. Bones and blades, back and forth, she jerks from him with an agonised sound, smile like stained glass, colourful and ornate as it illuminated the hallow church of her face.

“I’ll find out eventually.” Ominous enough, not needing to waste precious breath. Assured that within this peculiar prison, someone would crack. “Even worse, John,” She drew him in, piercing eyes a grim slash in the light as she armed herself “Your situation is mine.” Cruel echoes of the Captain’s words claw menacingly from the caverns of her mouth.

“And I will make it much, much worse for you.” Down and down she’d fallen into his den, what was the point? Of denying it? Why clamber toward the light when the rest circled the warren? They knew more, no chance of fighting the change.

She’d shift with it.

With her haunting smile and exchange of words, John remained very still. Wound-tight, rusted wire scraping against each coil, bound by the sheer determination not to snap. “And how do you plan on doing that Lilith?” Price pressed, whistling tone through his teeth, suppressed as always.

“Well, I’ve seen his face.” Her smile disturbed him.

Lilith did not make it to Kyle to help him with the nurse. Nor did she make it to dinner. The threat lingered between the liminal space of the Captain and herself, a bleak reminder that neither played fair, a ghastly mirror of one another, it was hard to fight your reflection.

Russians, he said, it was ultra-nationalists that had managed to nearly take Simon out of the worldly equation. She sat curled tight into the seat across from his desk, arms wrapped securely around her knees, collapsing inward to a tight ball. Russians wanted to tie up loose ends, stop the task force from interfering as they had before. Her presence, however fleeting it was, raised suspicion of other operatives on the playing field. A man named Shepard, needed to cover things up, something to do with another mission the task force had botched for the other side. It was, complicated. Two opposing forces, unregulated and sporadic in their actions, surged up from the unmarked graves of missions just buried.

Ultra-nationalists think she is working for the likes of Shepard and reportedly, are searching for friends.

‘Why?’ The resounding question kept ringing out, head rested atop her knees as she peered up at Price, who had been pacing the room for the hours of his storytelling.

They have a common enemy, a common interest in seeing the task force dead and gone, ‘looking up at the grass’ as he put it. There was mention of missiles, a disgraced General Shepard now crazed and off-grid, dangerous. It all seemed to be out of touch, an outstanding blood-red mosaic of lies. How could there be so much grey area? More than she’d ever imagined, every doomsday lunatic sounded saner and saner by the minute as she tried to soak it in, tried to imagine John in action. No. The Captain in action.

She scribbled softly, unsharpened pencil scratching monotonously against the crisp paper as she listened, slowly adding item after item to her list. It helped it settle in, acknowledge that the world she knew was shallow and rather obscured, the pain and pleasure nothing compared to what interfered beneath the surface.

Lilith leant back, stretching out her limbs with a loud groan, inhaling deeply soon after. She’d become accustomed to his atmosphere of storm clouds and cigar smoke, it no longer made her so dizzy. A quiet fell upon them, more comfortable than before, a lull in his grand tale and the repetitive creak of the floorboards under his boots. She took her chance, holding out her wish list of supplies with a tentative look. “I wouldn’t actually hurt Simon.” Statement soft, sheepish and skittish compared to her outrage from before, tone thick with promise.

Price let himself stare down at the list, smudged lead and neat, rounded writing. “You need to remember who’s on your side.” He led off, taking the paper and scanning down the writing, he’d tease her about its length later.

“You were sedating me barely three weeks ago, this is a two-way thing John” Defensive, teeth-baring down onto her cheek, gum ground between her molars in thought. “This” She mentioned between them “has helped, I kind of.. understand a bit more now, that’s all I wanted.”

“Good. I think it’s best we put you up to doing something useful, other than making threats and yellin’ at me.” He chided teasingly, eyes a little warmer as he looked at her, crinkling at the sides slightly.

“Oh yeah? Kyle wants me to join morning training, that good enough?”

John shook his head, returning back to his desk to pull out a paper from one of his many files, sliding it over to her. “Says ere’ your degrees’ in finance.” There’s a troublesome cheek in his statement, a little glint in his gaze. “I could use a little help keeping the books straight.”

Lilith laughed awkwardly, eyebrows raised at his suggestion. “Thought you guys just ran around shooting people.”

“Yeah well, someone has to keep it all in order, the usual army accountants do most of it but when the team is black ops well, can’t really get them to file reports on that, and I still need to keep check of what goes in and out.”

“Let's see then.” A hefty ledger was dropped onto the table and she began to sift through its contents, face contorting into a grimace as Lily could barely make out the statements, briefly attempting to tally up a basic budget on a page left her even more horrified.

“You make that face at bad bookkeeping and not at the general violence and world-threatening missiles in the catch-up.”

“This is barely accounting John, this is miracle work, not even God himself would be able to fit these numbers into the budget, how’d you even carry on like this?” It was beyond salvation. “Your outflow is well, outrageous, it doesn’t match up to any revenue, how the fuck are you not in debt?” None of it made sense, by these numbers, the task force wouldn’t even have enough money for a pot noodle between them, let alone money for home nation guns on black ops missions.

“Exactly, see love, this is why you’ll be scrubbing up the books. We get funding from elsewhere for certain team-related missions, it just needs to seem viable on here so nothing looks too out of sorts.” Hoarse hums left him as he watched her pool over the mess of numbers, admittedly, the accounting wasn’t his strong suit. Keeping track of the money that Laswell poured into underground operations became tedious and halfway impossible when the team was out on the deployment so much, he barely got his field reports in on time.

“Also, old man, why the hell are these on paper? Are you slow on excel or something?” Lily slammed the ledger shut in disbelief.

“Oi, less of the old man, thank you very much.” It felt more natural giving Lilith some slack, a little room to flex her muscles and take some control again, already she’d uncurled from within herself and spread her presence more. It was a vivid thing, the tenacity she emitted shone so brightly he could see it through her eyes, that lively twinkle that came about every so often. Selfishly, he was glad it was there for him to observe, the illumination nearly made him forget about the putrid reality he was allowing her to spiral into.

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