#input data here (ask)

[neverendingford]

um not like to freak you out or anything at this hour of the night but i think about things a lot and im a bit high so im sorry if its alittle incoherent

"how much is false and how much is just animal instinct" i think all of its "animal instinct" at its core, and i guess the truthiness of it depends on what you classify as true or false.

i think morality is just a social construct to help groups cooperate and survive, same with the tendency to assimilate and fall into categories. and really there's nothing inherently wrong with constructs, theyre just our animal instincts. it's okay to fall into them i think. they are quite handy and like you said you can make your own. i think the emphasis should be more on being aware of them than breaking free of them. you're only human, i think. scritching your chin

and with entropy and meaning and all that. i think its so easy to get lost in the big picture. we don't last long in the grand scheme of things and we dont really have an inbuilt purpose besides existing. you can make your own purpose(s) if you want. but like just on its own you exist and thats pretty cool. you're the only one that will get to live your life. you will get to experience emotions and get a peak into the wide breadth of things that exist. i think all that's pretty awesome and reason enough to be alive. it's really grounding (for me at least) to just remember how cool and rare it is for me to exist and get to experience so many things.

Shit.. yeah you're right it's all animal instinct huh. outside of conspiracy shit like aliens and divine revelation, everything we're working with is stuff we've developed ourselves (and like.. our interactions with other animals on the planet). it's a very "Hypocrite that you are, for you trust the chemicals in your brain to tell you they are chemicals." situation. all that we are is derived from our existence.

guess I was too baked into the false dichotomy of mind/body, where really it's all just body and extrapolations from it.

I think that's actually a pretty relaxing thought though. it absolves any existential duty to some sort of "higher cause" and simply lets me exist in a neutral state.

yeahh, it's so easy to lose myself in the big picture. like when people see pictures of space and get scared because they're so small in comparison. the urge to find an answer to all my questions right now. it's both comforting and frustrating to know that people have been doing this for as long as we can remember. digging deeper and deeper hoping to find hell. building higher and higher hoping to find heaven. and all that's left is the things we've built. monuments to nothing else but our own efforts to make sense of things.

data is neutral until it gets interpreted, right? knowing that I'm small in comparison to other things isn't anything until I feel something about it. whether I feel scared and hopeless in the face of the enormity, or if I feel excited because of the chance I get to live whatever short tiny life I have. it's all still a framework I've constructed around the information. it's all input -> processing -> output. and that's infuriating because recognizing that you're interpreting data skews that interpretation. that thing where quantum particles are disturbed by the very act of observation. being self aware enough to be resistant to common therapy approaches. recognizing the mechanism fucks with the mechanism.

[upennmanuscripts]

Palimpsest Discovered in Recently Acquired Roll

Roll before and after multispectral imaging. The poem is visible under the stain in the middle of the photo.

Exciting new discoveries are always possible in the world of manuscript studies, but even we were unprepared for what emerged from Penn’s latest acquisition. Recently, the Library purchased a fragment of a Genealogy of Christ roll—an important addition to our collection. “But upon close examination,” explains SIMS Curator of Digital Humanities Dot Porter, “it became clear that the parchment had been reused; an earlier text was erased, and new text was written over. It’s a palimpsest.”

Enter Multispectral Imaging, conducted by Dr. Helen Davies, assistant professor of the digital humanities in the English department and co-director of the Center for the Digital Humanities at the University of Colorado Colorado Springs.

Helen Davies imaging the roll

Dr. Davies described the process: “I imaged the roll using multispectral imaging, and as the data was processed, words began to emerge.” 

And not just any words. 

Amey Hutchens, University of Pennsylvania Libraries Manuscripts Cataloger, has confirmed that the undertext is an entirely unknown poem, strikingly similar in style and theme to the works of the enigmatic classical lyricist Ricardus Astleaus.

“Could this be a lost work of the poet himself?” Schoenberg Curator of Manuscripts Nicholas Herman voices the question we’re all asking. “The implications are staggering.”

We welcome input from the scholarly community, who can read a transcription of the poem “Tete Numquam Relinquam” here.

[societyfolklore]

Will u do a part 2 for “open for me” with new tech? THIS HAS TO EH MY FAV TONY X YN STORY EVER

I know this took a while..

Controlled Input

Title: Controlled Input Pairing: Tony Stark x Female Reader Summary: You're the most put-together woman at the Stark Gala. Until the StarkTech prototype inside you starts pulsing to Tony's voice in your ear. You knew he had plans tonight. You just didn’t know they included orgasm denial, public humiliation, and a ruined orgasm in the elevator. Word Count: 4.1k Warnings: 18+ / Explicit content Minors DNI,  Orgasm denial,  Remote control vibrator,  Public sex kink, Ruined orgasm,  Exhibitionism, Power play, Possessive dirty talk, Voice kink, Teasing & Control,  StarkTech smut, Slight degradation, Smutty unprotected sex AN: This idea was originally one I did plan for the Orgasm Denial Square for the AAkinky bingo, but went with the Loki idea instead... kinda feel it does work for the part 2.. (I'll let you be the judge of that

The Stark Gala was its usual mess of elegance and ego: Manhattan skyline glittering beyond glass walls, lights refracting off thousand-dollar gowns, champagne flutes clinking with laughter that didn’t quite reach the eyes.

You looked perfect. Sleek satin gown in a shade Tony had once called ‘fuck-me red’ diamond drop earrings, and heels high enough to make your legs look long without making you wobble.

No one here had any idea what you were hiding under that dress. But he did.

Tony Stark stood on the other side of the ballroom, sipping champagne, charm weaponized. His tux was classic. Sharp. Clean lines and reckless magnetism. He looked like a man capable of breaking rules and making you beg for more.

Your ear buzzed.

"Comms test," came his voice, smooth as sin. "You hearing me, sweetheart?"

Your breath caught. "Loud and clear."

"Good girl."

The moment you heard it, that indulgent, knowing tone right before the device inside you stirred to life.

It was small. A slim internal prototype he'd insisted on installing personally in the lab just before, licking his fingers clean afterward and telling you not to be late. Made of surgical-grade silicone, moulded precisely to your shape, The prototype wasn’t just nestled inside you. It felt like two of his fingers had been left behind, curled up inside. The base sat snug between your parted folds, flush as if the palm of Stark’s hand still cupped you. Each embedded sensor tracked every twitch, flutter, and subtle contraction from within, and that special watch around your wrist picked up all the biometric data he could ask for.

"Remember, you can't come right away. Got to test this little invention out properly…" Tony murmured, voice like silk and sin, just as the toy shifted inside you, the tip of the toy felt like it moved under the silicone skin, gentle pulsing rubs up against that bundle of nerves.

Your lips parted. You swallowed the gasp with a practiced smile, nodding at a photographer who snapped a couple of shots all while the toy pulsed gently inside you. Deep and slow. Measured. A warning shot.

Tony chuckled in your ear. "That one was level two. Think you can handle level six in heels?"

The words slithered through your earpiece just as your hand tightened instinctively around your clutch, knuckles white. Your breath hitched, a subtle gasp escaping before you could swallow it down. As if on cue, the toy inside you responded switching from that teasing thrum to a deeper, rolling vibration that pressed up against your g-spot, making your thighs twitch beneath your gown.

Your calves flexed as you struggled to walk in a straight line, making a proper effort to move naturally. The polished floor shimmered beneath the lights, and the faint chime of clinking glass cut through the ambient music. A spotlight drifted lazily across the room, illuminating sequined dresses and sharp suits as you passed. Deep breaths... Focus on something, anything else but the feeling.

You stood by the bar, fingers wrapped too tightly around your flute, trying to keep your knees from locking.  Then the toy shifted, not just a vibration, but movement. A slow, deliberate pressure rolled inside you, like something stirring. The tip curled slightly, nudging your g-spot in a pulsing rhythm that made your thighs tighten and your walls flutter involuntarily. It was a firm, focused pressure, the kind that sent sharp sparks of pleasure rippling up your spine and left you clenching around the toy in helpless response. Slick heat pooled deep, your body aching to be filled, to grind down onto that exact point of contact until the pressure tipped you over but Tony wouldn’t allow that. Not yet. Just as you adjusted to that, a voice broke through your focus.

"Hey! I thought that was you."

You turned sharply, heart skipping a beat- not from the voice, but the toy that chose that exact moment to flutter across your clit. It felt like a pulse and roll, like a mechanical exhale brushing over your nerves in waves.

The woman in front of you looked vaguely familiar. Blonde. Bright smile. Maybe... Grants department?

"Hi," you managed, blinking through the heat. "Sorry, I- "

"Didn’t mean to startle you," she laughed. "I'm Rachel. We spoke on the funding alignment last quarter? You were amazing in that meeting."

You nodded, hoping your smile passed for polite instead of strained. Every inch of your body felt like it was vibrating, your knees barely holding.

Inside, the toy curled again. A long, slow drag against your g-spot that nearly buckled your knees. As if sensing you were distracted, it pulsed harder then stilled for a half-second.

Rachel kept talking. Something about budget reallocations. You nodded along, praying to every god Tony hadn’t hacked the volume up again.

He had.

A sudden, subtle hum thrummed through your core. Then the base of the toy shifted slightly against your clit, teasing the lips apart to apply more direct pressure. You could feel it those whispering rollers, like little metal bearings spinning under silk, brushing your clit with maddening, teasing precision. Each pass sent heat jolting through your core, a wicked, circling pressure that made your clit throb and your legs tremble. It wasn’t just stimulation, it was torment, perfectly calibrated to keep you swollen, needy, and seconds from falling apart.

Your breath hitched. Rachel didn’t notice.

"We’re actually opening another round of disaster relief grants next month," she said, eyes sparkling. "If you have time to consult, I’d love to put your name in."

"Yes," you gasped too quickly. "I mean, that’d be great. That sounds great."

Tony's voice slid across your earpiece, like honey down your spine. "Smile, baby. Don’t be rude."

Across the room, Tony tapped something on his phone. A slow smirk pulling at his lips.

The toy fluttered fast against your clit. The g-spot stim went deep. Then everything stopped. Restarted. It felt like a rhythmic chant of need and denial. A full-body sync that had your thighs twitching under your dress.

"Wonderful," Rachel said, utterly unaware. "I’ll send something through next week. Enjoy the rest of the gala!"

You watched her walk away. Trembling. Glowing with shame. The toy buzzed slower now, drawing out each pulse like it was savoring the tension.

Your breath came hard and shallow. You couldn’t remember if you’d even blinked during the entire conversation. The heat between your legs was molten.

Then, softly, in your ear:

"Come here."

The toy responded with every step you took. The floor was dense with bodies and polite expectation. Each small hello, each handshake, each coworker who stopped to compliment your gown or mention the quarterly report became its own personal torture.

You smiled. Nodded. Struggled to keep your breaths shallow. And every time you were delayed, every time someone said your name, asked for a minute, held your elbow to steer you into conversation.

Each time your path was blocked, the toy responded like it was wired to your frustration. Deep internal throbs. Featherlight clit flickers that danced maddening circles over your swollen bud. Your walls fluttered helplessly, slick and aching around the relentless toy. Every pulse dragged slick arousal down your thighs, every flick across your clit made your hips twitch with the urge to grind down against it- desperate for friction, for more, for permission. A maddening spiral of stimulation that had you gripping desperately to hold it back, your body trembling on the edge with no way to fall.

When you finally reached him, the muscles in your thighs were tight from restraint. Your face burned with effort and shame.

He didn’t even look at you at first, just took a slow sip of his drink. Then, gently, his hand brushed the small of your back.

You shuddered.

"Took your time," he murmured. "Was that rude of me, darling?"

You pulse and the toy rewarded you with another deep throb that made your knees knock, your hand flying out to grab his thigh next to you, fingers digging into the fabric of his suit pants. You squeezed, needing something- anything- to anchor you as the sensation speared through your core.

"...Tony..." Was all you managed to gasp out, voice trembling, barely audible over the soft music drifting through the ballroom.

He turned just slightly, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. "Shhh," he whispered, dragging the sound out like silk. "You’re doing so well."

Friday's voice chimed in again, sharp and indifferent to your struggle. "Cervical contact pressure escalating. Pulse rhythm confirmed. User pelvic tension increasing. Lubrication levels continue to rise. Core temperature 1.4 degrees above baseline."

You whimpered, pressing your thighs together instinctively, but it only made things worse. The toy responded to pressure, he designed it that way. Every squeeze fed it more data. Every twitch made it pulse harder.

You swayed a little in your heals as the Mayor of New York started his speech. 

Tony smiled, whispering against your ear again, voice thick with smug amusement. "What did I just say about behaving, sweetheart? You’re acting like you want everyone to see you fall apart. Is that what you want? You want to be my pretty little mess in front of everyone?"  You shook your head, but the heat between your thighs told a different story.

Tony's voice was a low buzz against your ear. "Biofeedback shows me everything, baby. I thought you'd enjoy this little game."

"Just enjoying the party," you said sweetly, managing a smile as a board member turned to give Tony a small wave.

"Liar," Tony spoke through his forced smile waving back. "You're dripping, aren't you? Let me check." You tried not to panic. Only relaxing when he pulled out his phone instead of shoving his hand through the slit in your dress. 

Tony looked down at his phone. Then the toy throbbed hard. Once. Twice. A deeper pulse that had your knees nearly buckling.

"Oh yeah," he hummed. "Slippery little thing, aren’t you?"

The mayor launched into an anecdote about disaster relief. You clamped down harder, trying not to feel the slick heat sliding down your thighs.

Friday's voice cut through the comms, clinical as ever. "Lubrication levels elevated. Heart rate 114 BPM. External tremors detected in quadriceps."

Tony laughed. You could hear the ice clink in his glass.

"Keep clenching, baby. Every squeeze makes it worse. And if you cum before I say so? We're doing this again. In front of the Avengers."

You bit the inside of your cheek. And just like that, he left you alone- quivering, the mayor’s voice a haze in your ears. You stood frozen for a moment, your whole body tense, throat dry. Then the sound of applause snapped you back, and somehow you made it twenty more minutes.  You moved around more, drifting from group to group with a flute in hand, laughing too hard at bad jokes, sipping champagne you barely tasted. Your core pulsed in rhythm with the toy, and you swore it knew every time you tried to relax. During a brief conversation with Maria Hill, you prayed she wouldn’t comment on the sweat clinging to your back or the glazed look in your eyes. Each passing minute felt like a test and Tony was tracking every answer.

As you smiled and nodded through more pleasantries, your thighs flexed with every low throb from the device buried inside you. The weight of it, the heat, the pressure; it was getting harder to stay poised. Harder to hide that you were dripping.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could last before Tony appeared beside you again, his presence a gravitational shift.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek. His hands stayed respectfully high, but his tone was anything but innocent. "Looking a little flushed."

"It’s warm in here," you whispered, breath catching slightly.

"Mhm." He leaned in, the scent of whiskey and cedar curling around you like silk. His breath ghosted over your ear. "Let’s take this upstairs. You’ve got five minutes to hold it. Think you can manage that - or should I keep edging you in the elevator?"

Your mouth went dry. The toy pulsed once, sharp, deliberate- like it wanted to hear your answer too.

He guided you through the crowd with a hand on your lower back, polite nods exchanged like nothing was wrong like you weren’t soaked and shaking and seconds from crumbling. The elevator ride up to the penthouse was pure, silent torture.

Tony didn’t touch you at first. He leaned against the wall like a man waiting on a taxi- casual, collected, maddening. His eyes dragged down your body, pausing where your thighs trembled and your hand gripped the railing too tightly.

Then the doors slid shut. And the toy surged to life.

A low, grinding pulse dragged across your g-spot, slow and deliberate. Beneath it, the rollers under the base reawakened, circling your clit with maddening precision, each flick like the kiss of heat lightning.

You staggered slightly, jaw slack, chest rising in shallow gasps. Your heels wobbled beneath you, and one hand flew out, fingers scrabbling uselessly at the air before catching the railing for balance. The other clutched your clutch bag like it might tether you to reality. "Please," you breathed, voice shaking, not even sure what you were asking for. Relief? Permission? Mercy?

Tony tilted his head. "Sensitive already? Thought this was supposed to be a test, not a total meltdown."

You whimpered, clutching the railing harder. "It’s too much."

"You say that every time I’m right."

Your thighs closed and the toy responded; a firmer roll that nearly made your knees buckle. You bit your lip, tried to hold still, but every shift of your body only triggered a new surge. 

Tony pushed off the wall and circled behind you, standing close but not touching. His breath ghosted over your neck. "You're really going to fall apart in here, huh? I barely even touched you."

You shook your head. You couldn’t remember anything but this- his voice, the toy, the ache. .

"T-Tony- "

"What is it, sweetheart? Want me to turn it off? Or do you want to come?"

The toy pulsed again, firmer. You nearly dropped to your knees.

Friday’s voice buzzed into your ear, unfeeling and cold. "Orgasm threshold: 96%. Clitoral sensitivity: critical. User response: unstable."

"You're about to make a mess in here, aren't you?" Tony asked, one hand ghosting down your back. "After all that control you showed tonight... this is how you want to end it?"

You sobbed out a breath, your body twitching as you tried to hold it back. Your muscles were locking up, desperate to release. Your cunt milking so tightly around the toy you could feel your slick coating everything, dripping, pulsing.

"Let go," he whispered, voice thick with satisfaction. "Come for me, baby. Right here."

You didn’t have a choice. The orgasm hit like a crash. You came so hard it stole the air from your lungs. The toy didn’t slow, it thrummed right through you, drawing the orgasm out, making your hips jerk and your thighs shake.

You sobbed into the space between you, forehead pressed to the mirror paneling as your body finally gave in.

Every tease from the night, all the near-misses and false starts- had sharpened your nerves to glass. You weren’t just desperate now. You were raw.

Tony let out a soft hum, watching you fight for control. "Poor thing. You lasted all night just to lose it in a metal box."

Your hips jerked forward involuntarily. The pressure was unbearable, too much and not enough all at once. You tried to breathe, but it was like every muscle in your body was clenching, trying to trap that orgasm and force it back. But you couldn’t.

And he knew it.

Tony watched you shake, one brow lifted. His hand slid lightly down your spine, resting just above your ass.

"There you go," he murmured with a smile. "Perfect little toy isn't it." 

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. Tony stepped out first, unhurried, already tugging the knot of his tie loose as he walked toward the sunken living room. You followed a half-step behind, legs shaky, your hands fluttering at your sides like they didn’t know where to land.

He dropped the tie over the back of the couch and leaned against it, rolling his sleeves up with the lazy precision of a man who knew he had time- and control. You tried to straighten up, but your body still trembled from the elevator, nerves misfiring beneath your skin.

He looked at you. Really looked.

And then reached for his belt.

The soft whisper of leather sliding through loops made your breath catch.

"You think you earned it, sweetheart? After that little display?"

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your knees dipped but you stopped yourself. Instead, you stepped forward, trembling, drawn to him like gravity.

Tony pulled the belt free in one clean motion, but didn’t drop it. Instead, he let it hang loose at his side while the other hand slid up beneath the slit of your dress, fingers brushing over the soaked curve of your mound the firm base of the toy still pressed against your clit.

"Still sensitive?" he murmured.

You gasped, nodding faintly, and reached for the back of your dress. The zipper came down with a low hum. Silk pooled to the floor.

Tony’s eyes dragged down your body as his foot nudged your legs farther apart. "Hold still," he said, lowering himself to his knees.

His fingers found the base of the toy, tugging slowly. Your cunt locked down, not wanting to let it go. The stretch was sudden and overwhelming, your muscles fluttering from overstimulation.

Tony smiled as he eased it free.

He brought the toy to his lips and licked it once, slowly, deliberately, like he had back in the lab when he’d tasted you from his fingers.

Then he leaned in and gave your pussy the same treatment.

You gasped, thighs quaking.

"Taste test complete," he said smoothly, rising to his feet.

He sank down onto the couch, shoving his suit pants and briefs down just enough to free his cock- thick, flushed, glistening at the tip. He set the toy on the side table like a prized instrument, then reached for your hand and pulled you gently between his legs.

"Come here."

You climbed into his lap, straddling him as he settled back, the heat of his body radiating through his shirt where your chest pressed flush to him.

He hissed through his teeth as your slick folds met the thick weight of him. “Fuck. Love it when you’re ready for me, sweetheart. All wet and aching.”

You nodded, breathless, hips shifting with need as the swollen head of his cock slid through the mess between your thighs, nudging teasingly at your entrance. The anticipation crackled like static under your skin.

You sank down slow, gasping at the first tight push, your body stretching wide to take him. The pressure was exquisite, a burn that made your toes curl and your fingernails dig into his shoulders. Inch by inch, your cunt gave way, fluttering, clenching around the intrusion as your walls adjusted to his size.

“Fuck,” he groaned, jaw tighten, watching you with heat-darkened eyes. “Still so tight. Can feel you dripping around me already.”

He filled you to the hilt, every inch of him locked deep inside, your cunt flushed and snug around him like you were made for this- made for him. The stretch pushed against that swollen, tender ache inside you, and your whole body shuddered, overwhelmed, but greedy for more.

You braced yourself, pressing your chest to his as your arms curled around his neck. The fabric of his shirt was still warm, slightly rough against your peaked nipples. His arc reactor pressed firm against your sternum, cool metal in contrast to the fever between your legs.

You moved slowly at first, tiny, aching rolls of your hips, each one sending sparks through your overstimulated body. His hands slid up your thighs to your hips, fingers digging in.

"That's it, baby," he rasped, jaw tight as he watched your face. "Use me. Just like that."

You moaned into his neck, body rocking in tight, desperate circles. Every drag of his cock sent another ripple through your still-sensitive walls. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, the pressure, the heat.

"Fuck, you're perfect like this," he growled, pulling you down harder. "Wrecked and still hungry for more."

You found your rhythm, hips rolling and lifting with slow, needy grace, every thrust slick and  frictionless, each motion more desperate than the last. He filled you so deep it made your eyes flutter, your core tightening around him as you chased your own edge again.

Your hands tightened behind his neck, your chest pressed flush to his. The rough brush of his shirt against your nipples sent jolts through you, sharp and distracting, as if your entire body was made of open nerve endings. His cologne; amber and ozone, it clung to your skin, dizzying.

Tony’s gaze never left you. Possessive. Lidded. He watched your face like he was cataloguing each flutter of your lashes, each trembling moan. “Look at me when you cum,” he murmured, voice thick and hungry. “Let me see how pretty you get when you fall apart.”

You whimpered into his neck, grinding harder, the sound of your slick body meeting his echoing obscenely off the penthouse walls. He was so deep, his cock dragging perfectly along that raw, oversensitive spot that had you sobbing out broken breaths against his skin.

His hands slid from your hips to your ass, holding you open, guiding each movement with subtle force. His mouth found your shoulder, teeth sinking in just enough to mark, to claim. “Feel that? That’s me everywhere. All night and still not enough for you.”

Your orgasm crept closer, tighter, your body a lit fuse. Your arms locked around his neck, burying your face against his throat as you rode it out, hips stuttering, thighs trembling. Your cunt pulsed wildly around him, holding like you didn’t want to let him go.

Tony’s head dropped back against the couch, a ragged groan ripping from his throat. “Gonna fucking come- fuck, baby- ride it just like that.”

You were still grinding when he spilled into you, hips jerking up as he pressed you down, cock twitching deep inside. His moan was low, raw, shameless, his eyes glued to your face as you both came apart together, messy and breathless and utterly ruined.

Your head stayed tucked into the crook of his neck, your body soft and boneless against him, every part of you still twitching in the aftermath. Your thighs ached. Your walls still fluttered occasionally around his cock, overstimulated and stretched. The wet, obscene heat of where your bodies joined soaked into the expensive fabric under you, but Tony didn’t care. He didn’t shift. He didn’t pull out.

Instead, his hand rubbed soothing circles up your spine. “You handled that tech better than I thought you would,” he said, voice rough and amused.

You hummed, dazed. “That… wasn’t… a fair test.”

He grinned into your hair. “You’re right. But it made for great data. Friday’s got six orgasm threshold points, four biofeedback spikes, and two shamefully perfect audio samples.”

You groaned, burying your face deeper in his collar. “You recorded that?”

“Of course I did.” He tapped a knuckle lightly against the back of your neck. “For science.”

You shivered, not from cold. You were still sitting on him, his softening cock still buried inside you. He was growing hard again.

You felt it. So did he.

His hand slid down to your hip. “Round two?”

You lifted your head, eyes glassy but teasing. “I thought this was about the prototype.”

“It is.” He grabbed the toy from the side table and spun it between his fingers, still glistening. “Only now your pussy’s full, and I still have data to gather.”

He glanced down between your bodies, smirked, then lifted the toy thoughtfully. “How do you feel about… multitasking?”

Your breath hitched.

Tony guided the toy lower- not toward your clit this time, but behind you, his touch suggestive.

“Tony- ”

He didn’t press in. Not yet. Just let the slick head tease the sensitive rim as he whispered, “Shhh. Let’s see how well you handle a secondary input.”

You trembled, already fluttering around him, helpless against the idea.

“Still part of the test,” he added with a wink.

And just like that, the next phase began.

[everythingne]

learning curve - cs55

williams is a new territory. his co-head engineers is an interesting idea, until he meets you, and learns of why he needs someone else on the radio.

haring impaired!williams engineer reader x carlos sainz

James was far too excited to have Carlos here so god damn early. But, as Carlos knew, the racing world didn't wait for anybody. Engineers dipped in and out of rooms, hands flicking as the spoke, heads nodding or shaking along with ideas or with procedures.

"And here," James grandly gestures to the small team that's working on installing Carlos' newly fitted seat into the shell of a car, "is team fifty-five."

A few heads pop up from his new mechanics, analysts, engineers, a few waves Carlos returns before James is bringing him to the side where a large computer is set up. Two people sitting at the screen. The man turns his head, smiling warmly in greeting as the person next to him--you, keeps her head down and scribbles some notes on a drawing of the car.

"This is YN, the one writing, and Luca. Both pulled in from Ferrari, from junior Engineers to senior. Figured a fresh start would be best for all of us until we can secure more full season contracts for your team." James explains and Carlos feels entrapped by you, watching the way your tongue darts out for a moment as you think, before your head goes right back down.

"Two head engineers?" Carlos asks softly, after shaking Luca's hand in greeting. James nods to Luca, and he turns and quickly taps the desk next to you, and you perk up and unplug your airbuds... or something similar.

"YN is hard of hearing, Luca's makes sure she doesn't miss anything. YN doesn't usually, and she'll understand you well as long as she can read your lips." James explains, and you nod.

"Don't be afraid to talk to me," You say, folding your hands in your lap, "Most people just ask Luca but he hates talking to people."

"I do." Luca nods, face red, "I'd rather be hiding. YN will speak to you on the pit wall. The board connects right to her hearing aids."

"Oh, thats really nice." He says and you nod, bursting into a explanation that has your face all bright and smiley and god damnit if it doesn't make his heart skip. After a moment, James pulls Carlos away, but your looks linger a little longer after that.

-

Two weeks in and Carlos knows some BSL. He practices to himself most nights in the hotel, signing over and over: drag, lift, broken, okay, the alphabet, basic letters, and the signs he's noticed you do for over and understeering. He doesn't need to know BSL to communicate with you, your hearing aids and lip reading have been working just fine for two weeks before testing days, but he figures it might be easier--and a nice little secret to have, on days where the garage is swimming with noise.

Alex has picked up more than he has, and while Carlos is a little envious at Alex's ability to just absorb, it's not like he's practicing sentences.

Which Carlos has been. Simple ones so far, but he finds it so enchanting when you and Luca go off on BSL tangents, the little secret code of your hand gestures and expressions so amazing to him.

Day one of testing is by far the longest day of your and Carlos' life. You both sit there pouring over data and models, running simulation after simulation while Carlos pokes at every level of information you have and questions it. Luca watches you both silently, noting the way Carlos hangs on your suggestions and you nod at his inputs.

Neither of you break for lunch, pushing aside the catered meals to look over more data from the rear wing. By the time the mechanics came back, you had a whole new wing plan. Same with dinner plans. But you're kicked out of the track by midnight, the last two people closing up shop, still talking about designs and new plans as you both stand next to each other from the second you leave to the second you get into the lobby of the hotel.

You bid Carlos goodnight, but read his lips as the batteries on your hearing aids are dangerously low.

Day two is the same. You and Carlos wake up excessively early, are the first ones there, but mid way through the day you notice something. Your hearing aids are fucking dead.

Carlos comes into the garage with a grin, chattering to you about something exciting, but his lips move so quickly and differently from British accented words you lose him.

Carlos blinks. Pause. And then nervously signs, 'fixed the understeer.'

You blink. Pause. And then break into a grin, whacking his arms.

"Good job." You say, though you aren't sure how loud, before holding up a finger for him to wait as you rush to your purse and dig out the back-up batteries. It takes a few seconds for you to find them in the bottom corner of the bag--but you pop them in and adjust the volume a bit before rushing back over.

"Sorry! They died!" You tap the hearing aids and Carlos nods, smiling to you with a little tilt of his head, "When did you learn to sign?"

Carlos' cheeks are a little red as he shrugs, "I don't know if I did it well, but I've been practicing for a bit. It's always so loud in here, I don't know how you hear everything."

You shrug, tilt your head, "You get used to picking out the important noises, it's not that much different from you."

Over the next few months, as you and Carlos adapt to the car and to the team, you find he's picked up more and more sign language. You idly teach him some in his spare time, words slowly drifting from racing notes to everyday phrases, to names for people across the tracks, to jokes. By Monaco, you've taught him enough for semi-fluency, and you don't know how he's managed to pick up a whole new language so quickly but you're not complaining.

It happens after Monaco quali. You're sitting on the floor of his drivers room while he's being stretched out post race, your hands moving idly along with your words as you speak, Carlos watching intently. There's been a shift, you note, and when Carlos' holds hand for you to pause, you do.

'Going to dinner tonight?' his signs are a little wobbly, but you get the gist.

'At the hotel, maybe.'

Carlos hesitates for probably a whole thirty seconds before, 'Want to go out? Only us two.'

'A date?'

'Yes.'

You blink. Then slap his hands with a loud laugh--Teto leaning his head back to look at you two from the other side of the room, the other various 55 members chuckling at the exchange.

'You learned sign just to ask that didn't you?' You keep the conversation silent, but the smirk on Carlos' face probably tells everyone what you're both conversing.

'Maybe.' His smirk doubles and you flush. Somehow, Carlos has done the most thoughtful thing, by doing the most basic thing at the same time.

general tag list:

@d3kstar @justalittlejess @tvdtw4ever @llando4norris @daemyratwst @piastri-fvx @sltwins @armystay89 @leclercdream

[txttletale]

Do you have any opinions on the current Bluesky discourse about acting as a receiver for Palestinian fundraisers? You have a good head on your shoulders so your input would be nice

i don't keep up with bluesky discourse. i do maintain however that the broad reaction to palestinian fundraisers on here at least has been -- if i'm being brutally honest -- founded almost entirely in first-world guilt, leading to a strategy that fails to understand two extremely crucial facts:

palestinian cost-of-living fundraisers are a zero-sum game

there is a real, artificial scarcity in gaza. if an anonymous billionaire donated $10,000 to every gazan gofundme, it would not create more food or hospital beds in gaza, only increase the prices of those things to match. every gazan who can afford food for their family because their gofundme hit a certain goal is buying food at hyper-inflated prices that other families are not going to be able to get, and this will continue to be the case so long as israel continues their genocidal strategy of deliberate starvation.

2. your blog's attention economy is a zero-sum game

say you have 1,000 followers. let's assume a click-through rate of 5%, about commensuarate with the upper edge of what charities can expect -- that means that out of your followers, 5% of them will both see the gofundme link and click through to the actual page. then, again assuming you're operating at a similar batting average to very succesful charities, let's give you a 40% conversion rate from there, which means that 40% of your 5% will actually donate once they're on the page. that lands you at 20 people ultimately donating. there's no good data on 'average donation to a gaza gofundme specifically' and i can't think of a good analogue, so just scoping a few out it seems like $10 is a pretty 'average' donation. so that's $200 potentially directed to a fundraiser. which is not nothing!

but it's also not infinite. if you boost two fundraisers, you are now splitting those potential donators. you don't have infinite followers with infinite money: every gaza fundraiser post you make is competing with every other fundraiser that person has seen this day, or this week, or this month, or whatever period within which they allocate the budget they have for stuff like this. every separate fundraiser you reblog is competing with every other fundraiser on your blog for the attention (and therefore money) of your followers specifically.

and so when you combine these points, i think the very common strategy of "reblog every fundraiser you see or get sent" is an extremely bad one. this is not an 'every dollar helps' situation! this is a 'very large amounts of money are needed to cover basic living expenses on an ongoing basis' situation -- if a bag of flour costs $300, then splitting $200 worth of potential donations multiple ways can make the difference between the single family whose fundraiser you're promoting being able to buy it or none of the multiple fundraisers you're putting in front of your followers being able to.

and so i think that reblogging or posting a scattershot selection of fundraisers/asks is significantly less helpful to anybody than simply choosing one or two to consistently, regularly boost, and is a practice (if i am being ruthlessly honest) mostly fueled by people feeling guilty for 'ignoring' fundraisers and aid requests instead of thinking practically about how to provide the most help to people.

people will reply to this: 'but then it feels like i'm choosing who to help', and, yeah. that's what charity is. if you are not willing to do the calculus of triage between strangers in life or death situations then you should not be directly donating--and if you give to an NGO or a mutual aid fund, the same calculus has to be done regardless, you're just pushing it off onto someone else who may or may not be better equipped. and it is brutal and awful and the product of a deeply fucking evil global economic and political system but if you close your eyes and say 'la la la' and pretend that isn't the case that's not going to help any gazans eat.

because of this, i personally recommend that if you don't have family or friends in gaza, or some other personal connection that makes you determined to help a specific family, you focus on on-the-ground mutual aid efforts, who can at least take advantage of economies of scale and help those who can't access the internet or speak english. note that by this i do not mean international charities, who are mostly being prevented from providing aid by israel as of the date of this post (01/06/2025). i personally have focused my blog's attention economy on highlighting dahnoun mutual aid and the sameer project for this reason. i can't tell you what to do because ultimately that is a moral decision you have to make about who you want to help and how. & if you have less followers than i do (& therefore less reach, less potential impact) the stakes are ultimately lower. but i hate that the 'palestinian scammers' accusations have poisoned the well so thoroughly on having earnest discussions about whether the current popular engagement with fundraisers is actually as helpful as it could be.

[ameenvie]

Treacherous, Pt. 2 - Jim Halpert x fem!reader

masterlist | ao3 | fic recs

“Out of focus, eye to eye, ‘Til the gravity’s too much”

Part 1 Word count: 6.1k Warnings: NSFW, fingering, dry humping, p in v sex, brief oral (m!receiving) Tags: idiots in love, pining, I'm a sucker for confessions during sex, consent is sexy, responsible Jim ❤ beta reading? I don't know 'er! Prompt/Summary: You started working at Dunder Mifflin around 6 months ago, and since then you developed a massive crush on one of your colleagues - Jim Halpert. Things happen. A/N: Here it iiis, the NSFW Second part of this fic! I hope you'll like it ❤

The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and his hair was a bit messier than usual as he was leaning on his elbow, his hand in his hair. He was looking at a piece of paper on his desk, not realizing you entered the room. You slowly made your way towards the printer next to him, and he finally looked up at you.

“Hey, I didn’t realize you were still here.” He leaned back in his chair and put one of his hands on the table. You tried not to stare at his every move, but it was hard to resist, you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

“Oh yeah, I’m still working on the report due by tomorrow morning. Having a hard time focusing today” you replied and pressed the print button on the machine. It started buzzing and the smell of ink and warm paper filled the air. A moment of silence wrapped around the two of you before he spoke again.

“Look, I wanted to apologize about earlier, I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”

“Oh no, I’m fine,” you said with a fake chuckle. “It wasn’t too bad.”

“I’m still sorry. It was a douchey move” he smiled and pointed at the papers now in your hand. “Can I make it up to you? Do you need help with your report?”

You contemplated his offer for a second, but you weren’t sure what to say. You didn’t want to seem like someone who couldn’t handle things on their own, but you really could’ve used the help to get out of there as soon as possible.

“If it’s not a problem to you, that would be great, yeah.”

“If it was, I wouldn’t have offered. Now tell me what to do!” He said with a grin spreading on his face and you caught your gaze lingering at his lips longer than it should've. You hoped he didn’t notice. You quickly averted your gaze before you grabbed the rest of the sheets from the printer and settled at his desk together with him.

You explained to him how you planned your spreadsheet and what data he’d need to input, and where to find them, and you agreed on a method of how to split the task. He was very attentive the whole time, and sometimes you thought you saw his gaze linger on you but chased that thought away.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. I’ll be in the back if you need anything.”

“Sure thing, I’ll come by,” he answered and smiled at you. His damn smile made your heart melt every time. He made you feel such a teenager, and you were kind of mad at him because of that.

You sat down at your desk and continued your work. Another hour passed before you heard the door open, and you turned towards him. He held a few papers in his hand, waving them with pride.

“I’m done with these; I thought I’d bring them here and we could run through them if you’d like.” He stepped next to you and pulled a chair closer for himself. The same chair that Kelly sat on this morning, when she said Jim liked you. The memory made you flustered as you looked up at him.

“You sure? I don’t want to keep you longer than I need, I already feel bad because you stayed overtime for me.”

“Shhh,” he shushed you. “You’re not keeping me from anything. I like your company.” He laughed then put the papers on the desk. You both leaned over them and started to look through the rows one by one.

You were leaning on your elbow with your body turned towards him as he talked, and you listened. You watched as he moved his hand on the paper, explaining things why he did what and asking you questions. You imagined his hands roaming on your body instead of the numbers on the paper. His lips singing you praises between ragged breaths instead of explaining sales metrics. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander, up his arms, to where his neck peeked out from under his shirt, his lips. You scolded yourself every time you caught yourself.

“Are you all right?” His voice brought you back to reality. His gaze on you only fanned the flames inside, which already felt like wildfire. You felt your insides twist with need.

“Yes, I’m just a bit tired. That’s all,” you replied and straightened your back. Now you were sitting so close that your shoulders were touching — bad idea.

“I think we can wrap this up, finish the rest in the morning. I hope this won’t scare you away from this job.” He shuffled around on his chair, so his shoulder didn’t touch yours anymore as he leaned on one of his elbows, turning his body towards you. You were both grateful and sad for the absence of the warmth of his touch.

“No, of course not. I kind of like it here. Some people are nice.”

“Yes,” he smiled, “some people are really nice.” He started to fiddle with a pen on your desk.

There was a moment of heavy silence between the two of you, which was enough for you to get overwhelmed with how close he was. His touch and sweet scent made you drunk. You never wanted this moment to end but at the same time, you couldn’t wait to get out of there. You heard him call your name which snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze was darting between your eyes and lips, and you could swear he was a little flustered.

You felt like your brain was malfunctioning, a short circuit in your nerves. Was this really happening? You felt your heart drop into your stomach, and all you could muster up as an answer was a shaky nod as you reached for him.

He didn’t hesitate, he put his hands on both sides of your face as he pulled you closer into a kiss. You felt your heart explode into thousands of little butterflies that stole your breath away. His lips were soft against your own as he took his time exploring you, kissing the corner of your mouth before nibbling on your lower lip. You whimpered and opened your mouth, which gave him the perfect opportunity to press his tongue against yours, starting to dance in perfect harmony.  

He filled all your senses – the taste of his favourite tea on your tongue, the scent of his aftershave, the feeling of his touches on your skin. You felt lightheaded, like you were not on this planet anymore as he moved one of his hands from your cheek to the small of your back and pulled you into his lap. His other hand has moved from your cheek to your neck and into your hair as he pulled you closer into the kiss.

You straddled him in the wobbly office chair and ran your hand through his hair which made him smile into the kiss. The little gesture made your heart swell, and you bit his lower lip playfully.

His touches moved slowly towards your hips, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His long fingers pushed under the hem of your shirt and started to draw hot circles against your skin. You wanted him so much that you absent-mindedly moaned into the kiss, which caused him to stop for a second. Your eyes shot open. Shit, was that too much?

“Is this okay?” he whispered against your lips, leaning his forehead against yours. His breathing was heavy as he scanned your face for answers with such a loving look in his eyes, it turned your insides into Jello. You nodded as you moved your hand to rest against his neck and drew circles on his skin with your thumb. He let out a breathy chuckle before he spoke again. “I need you to say it.”

Your mind raced a mile a second. Should you really do this? You wanted to - more than anything, but shouldn’t you at least try to keep your dignity? Try to act like you didn’t dream about him for months? That he didn’t make your heart race every time he looked at you?

And then you decided not to care.

“Yes, it’s okay, I-,“ you started, trying to form the words. “I want this.” He pulled you closer by your waist before you continued with newfound confidence. “I want you, Jim” you whispered into his ear.

“Fuck-“ he breathed, and pulled you into another kiss. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” You nodded in response, but he shook his head lightly and smiled. “I need you to say it.”

“I’ll tell you if I want you to stop. I promise,” you breathed on his lips.

“Good girl.” You moaned into his mouth, and you felt his bulge grow against you. You tried to rock your hips against him for the slightest of friction. He dropped his head back from the sensation, giving you the perfect opportunity to place a wet kiss on his throat, licking against his hammering pulse and slightly biting him.

He dug his fingers into your ass as he kissed you once again. Your skirt was ridden up all the way to your thighs, and he made sure to lift them even higher until your underwear was revealed, together with a very prominent wet patch on it. You started to unbutton his shirt with quivering fingers while he drew lazy patterns into your thighs, only inches away from your aching core.

You leaned down to kiss the crook of his neck as you pushed his shirt down from his shoulders, the fabric slipping from his back and getting caught on the chair before falling to the ground. Your insides twisted with anticipation as you looked at his body, trying to commit every inch into your memory. He sat up straighter and wrapped his arms around you, tangling one hand into your hair as he used the other to push your blouse above your head and toss it to the floor, leaving you in your bra.

The sudden cold air sent shivers down your spine and your hardened nipples pushed against the thin fabric of your underwear. He bit his lip as he looked down on you, his gaze dark with lust. Suddenly you felt flustered but had no time to overthink before he spoke.

“You are so beautiful” he whispered as he leaned down to press a kiss on your breast, just above the hemline of the bra before he unclasped it and guided it down your arms. He brushed his thumb over your nipple while he rested his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked and enveloped your breast in his hand.

“Never” you whimpered which earned you a crooked grin and another kiss. He removed his hand from your chest and replaced it with his lips, kissing and sucking on your sensitive skin.

With every passing second the outside world shrank around you, your senses all focused on his touch - or the lack of - more like. The feeling of emptiness, of wanting to be whole started to eat away at you as the words tumbled out of your mouth.

“Jim, please…” you squeezed your eyes shut and slightly tugged on his hair, releasing a shaky breath. He moved his free hand from your hair to your chin, making you look into his eyes. His pupils were blown wide and stray strands of hair stuck to his forehead.

“You want this?” he teased, hovering his finger above your throbbing core, barely not touching. You nodded lightly with his hand still holding your chin in place before the words started pouring out of you.

“Yes, Jim – you breathed - I want you. Please, touch me. Fuck me,” you begged, and you saw a glint of amusement in his eyes before he pulled you into a kiss and pressed his thumb against your clothed clit before he pulled your panties aside with his other fingers. Your hips began to move on their own, grinding against his finger, craving more and more.

He brought a finger to your entrance and slowly slid it inside without any resistance. He bit his lip as he examined the spot where his finger disappeared in you.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered and bit the soft skin under your clavicle. He dictated a steady rhythm with his long fingers, and you were more than happy to follow. You gripped his shoulder for deal life as he slid another finger in you, curling them slightly so he reached your sweet spot. You cried out and looked at him through half-lidded eyes.

He was beautiful. His hair was damp from sweat and messy from your hand running through it, his lean muscles were showing as he held you in place and fucked you with his fingers, and the increasingly hardening bulge in his pants told you that you were in for an even better treat if you were lucky enough. You rolled your hips harder against his fingers as you felt your insides tighten with every movement of his. He was so beautiful. So hot. And he was yours.

“Jim,” you moaned his name and that seemed to ignite something in him because he pressed his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a passionate kiss, tongue and teeth clashing while he moved his thumb back to your clit, drawing tight circles on it.

Pleasure took over your body as you felt your muscles tighten, the world around you completely gone and in the center of your universe was him and his fingers in you. You rolled your hips as he slid in and out of you, never letting go of you.

You were a moaning mess and felt your stomach tighten, nerves lighting up in your body one by one and pleasure trickling down your spine.

“I’m here, love. Let me take care of you, come for me,” he whispered in your ear, his lips grazing your earlobe and with one, two roll of your hips you were crying out, your walls tightening around his fingers as your vision turned white.

He held you against him as his fingers slowed inside you, guiding you through your orgasm before stopping completely. He prepped your forehead with soft kisses before he removed his fingers from you. In your post-orgasm haze, you barely caught how he raised his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean with a moan.

The motion caught you off guard and you felt yourself tighten around nothing – a painful reminder. You slowly sat up and started to unbutton his pants, impatient to feel him in you. He silently watched as you pulled his pants and underwear down just enough so his hard member could spring free. You bit your lips as you took in the view.

You slowly slid your hand down on it, testing the feeling of its weight in your hand. It was already leaking with precum, and you were sure you were so wet you could easily just sink down onto him without any resistance. Nevertheless, you moved and slid down to your knees in front of him. For a split second he wanted to resist but you were already kneeling in front of him just in your skirt as you kissed the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth as far as you could, which still left plenty for your hands to take care of. The rough office carpet was harsh against your bare knees, but you didn’t care. You slid your tongue against him and bobbed your head. He threw his head back with a moan, his hand finding its way to your hair.

He didn’t let you enjoy yourself too much, because he gently pulled you away and up to your feet as he also stood up, guiding you towards your desk. You made space for yourself as you sat down on it, spreading your legs so he could stand between them. You reached for him again and started to slowly stroke him while he was digging through his back pocket, pulling out his wallet, then a condom. You couldn't help but chuckle, although you were grateful for such turn of events.

“Didn’t think you were such a player.” He scoffed and grinned at you.

“I knew you couldn't keep your hands off me for too long,” he said with a cocky smile which made you laugh and kissed you while he put the condom on. He lined himself up against your entrance and slowly pushed in.

The stretch was out of this world, and you savoured every inch as he pressed into you deeper and deeper until he bottomed out. He stilled for a few seconds, his forehead against yours.

“Don’t forget your promise,” he said, and you nodded. He slowly pulled out of you before bottoming out again, causing the office desk to shake lightly, the pens rattling against each other in the Dunder Mifflin mug.

“I’ll never be able to focus at work anymore. I hope you’re happy,” you said jokingly, his thrusts stealing the air from your lungs between every word. He chuckled before he kissed you.

His hands held your thighs firmly so he could pull you against him with every move, as he pulled out and slammed back in with a steady rhythm. You held onto him, one hand on his biceps and one tangled in his hair. His pace increased as filthy sounds filled the room mixed with your joint panting and moaning, his name on your lips like a sacred prayer, like a promise to something larger than life.

His moves became a bit less calculated, a bit sloppy, when he moved his thumb against your clit once more. You knew he was getting closer, and you also felt the familiar tension build in you, but you never wanted it to end. You didn’t want to think about what came after. The awkwardness. The guilt.

You pressed your lips against him, tongues clashing in a sloppy, messy dance as his dick pressed against your sweet spot with every thrust, his thumb caressing your clit with perfect pressure. He grabbed your hair and tilted your head back as he rutted into you, kissing your neck and mumbling sweet nothings against your skin.

“You’re so fucking good,” he said, panting. The curse felt alien on his tongue which boiled your blood even more. “I love you so much, my good girl,” he whispered against your skin, and you weren’t even sure you heard that right, but your heart skipped a beat, your brain numb as flames washed over your body, sparks lighting up your nerves as you came, all thoughts leaving your mind and being replaced with bliss. He came not long after you and wrapped you against his chest while you both caught your breath. He caressed your hair and planted soft kisses on the top of your head before pulling out.

“I’ll be back in a second,” he said, giving a squeeze to your hand as he disappeared. You didn’t really comprehend what was happening, where he went, or how long he was away, but when he came back, he brought a damp paper towel and helped to clean you up.

“That’s better.” He pressed a kiss on your lips and his eyes searched your face. “Are you okay?” When you didn’t reply, his expression turned worried, and he swiped his hand across his face.

“Shit,” he said. “I’m sorry. You think you made a mistake, right?” He ran his hand through his hair as he looked at you. You snapped out of your thoughts.

“What? No!” You objected. “No, Jim. It was amazing, hell… Even more than that. I’m sorry, it’s just,” you hesitated and looked him in the eye. “You said you loved me.” The realization settled on his face as he looked at you.

“I’m sorry,” he replied, and you scoffed, raising your eyebrow at him.

“I love you too,” you said, and a shy smile spread across your face as you reached for his hand. A sigh of relief escaped his lungs as he enveloped you in his arms, kissing you once again.

Maybe overtime wasn’t that bad, after all.

[foggieststars]

I think you guys are thinking too much about it. AI or no AI a fic is a fic. It doesn't matter. You think you writing about real people is ethical? Writing them fucking and with controversial pairings? AI is all over the place like get used to it. If someone is using AI to fix their errors, or to just improve some writing why tf do you care? Y'all are just entitled. Not everyone's great at English. Just stfu and LET people write what they want. God.

hi, this is such an ignorant ask i'm incredibly surprised you felt confident enough to hit send! but i'll engage with you in good faith regardless.

yes, there are debates about the ethics of writing RPF, but i think comparing them to the ethical debates about the use of AI is frankly quite laughable. not only does AI have an incredibly detrimental impact on the environment, the impacts are likely to be unequal and hit already resource-strained environments the hardest. (i am providing sources for you here, something i'm assuming you're unfamiliar with since you are so in favour of relying on AI to generate 'original' thought). moreover, many AI models rely on data scraping in order to train these models. it is very often the case that creators of works on the internet - for example, ao3 - do not give consent for their works to be used to train these models. it raises ethical questions about ownership of content, and of intellectual property beyond fanfiction. comparing these ethical dilemmas to the ethics of rpf is not an argument that convinces me, nor i'm sure does it convince many others.

"AI is all over the place like get used to it" - frankly, i'm not surprised you're so supportive of AI, if this is the best argument in its favour you can muster. you know what else is all over the place?? modern slavery! modern slavery's extremely commonplace across the world, anti-slavery international estimate that about 50 million people globally are living in modern slavery. following the line of your argument, since modern slavery is so commonplace, this must make it okay, and we should get used to it. the idea that just because something is everywhere makes it acceptable is a logical fallacy. do you see how an overreliance on AI reduces your ability to critically think, and to form arguments for yourself?

please explain to me how i'm entitled for thinking that relying on AI to produce something of generally, extremely poor quality, is poor behaviour on your part, or the part of other people who do it. you don't have to write fanfiction in english, and if you do struggle with english, there are MANY talented betas in this fandom who i'm sure would be willing to lend a hand and fix SPAG. you are NOT going to improve your english by getting AI to fix it for you.

as @wisteriagoesvroom helpfully pointed out "art is an act of emotion and celebration and joy and defiance. it is an unshakeable, unstoppable feeling that idea that must and should be expressed" - this is not something you can achieve via the use of AI. you might think it's not that deep, but for many people who dedicate hours of their time to writing fanfiction, it feels very much like a slap in the face. and what's more, it produces negligible benefits for the person who is engaging in creating AI fanfiction.

i agree with you that people should write whatever they want, but the operative word in that statement is write. i do not, and will not ever consider inputting prompts into chatgpt a sincere form of artistic creation. thanks!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

think I’m out of the loop or something but would you happen to know why there’s been a lot of TWST period tracker jokes? I see them mostly on twitter if that helps.

Okay, so I believe the jokes started because a popular Chinese mobile romance sim game, Love and Deepspace, added a period tracker as a function in the 3.0 update. You'd be able to input your menstruation date and the characters themselves will comment on your period + "text" you/send notifs about it. They also predict your next cycle based on the data you input about when you typically get your period and how long it lasts. This was first announced on an update livestream on Jan 10th, and the period tracker was officially integrated on the 22nd.

I think other gacha gaming communities thought this was wild and so they started to meme on it by going, "what if our gacha game also added a period tracking function?" Aaand the result for the Twst fandom was people editing screenshots of the login and homescreen pages to show the characters making comments on your period, along with jokes like, "wow this new update is weird" or wondering what each character would say. Some are posting pictures of their Twst merch posing or holding pads too. (I have some examples here with Deuce, Floyd, Azul, and Rook, although I'm sure there are many more out there with the other Twst characters.) I know there’s also been some tier lists on how the characters would react too.

Hdhdschbsdcucsdkuhcdskhuc It’s kind of funny because I feel like a lot of the Twst characters would realistically not react with any grace or tact 😭 Like, they’d be the complete opposite of being comforting or reassuring… Azul trying to make $ off of you or being nice now in hopes of getting a favor from you later, Ace asking what p*ssy size you wear, the nonhumans outright saying they can smell the blood on you, some characters not knowing wtf a period is or how it works, Ortho very indifferently advising you increase your iron intake to make up for what you’re losing, etc.

P.S. In case I get any follow-up asks about this!! 😅 No, I do not play LaDS/LDS (not sure how it is abbreviated) myself, I just vaguely know what it is because many of my friends play and they keep trying to convince me to give it a shot; apparently some guy named Caleb is my type???. Sorry if you were excited to chitchat about it 💦

[sailortongue]

Laboratory Mishap

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

wc: 2.9k

summary: after a lab experiment goes awry, you and spencer find yourselves in a heated situation

cw: smut, aphrodisiac/sex pollen (its not actual pollen but it fits the trope), oral (fem receiving), dubcon?, power dynamic, unprotected sex, semi-public sex

-------

Chemistry was the bane of your existence. You had never struggled so much with a subject. You had completed three general chemistry classes, two genchem labs, three organic chemistry classes, two ochem labs, and now you were taking biochem and a biochem lab. But despite all of your academic background, you still didn't have the slightest iota of understanding.

Even so, you couldn't stop yourself from looking forward to the weekly lab. You hated having to change from shorts into pants in the tiny bathroom stalls (no way in hell were you walking all the way across campus in high-humidity weather wearing pants). You hated the red line on your forehead from the goggles. You hated having to stand for 2+ hours because the lab wasn't equipped with stools. You hated chemistry in general. But you loved seeing the uber attractive GA, Spencer Reid.

More often than not, you spaced out during his pre-lab instructions. You were too busy focusing on anything about him that wasn't the jargon coming from his lips. Your poor lab partner always ended up having to re-explain the procedure. But today, that wasn't an option. Your lab partner had a wedding to attend today and, instead of being in your usual lab session, had opted to join yesterday’s lab session, leaving you all by your lonesome. Initially, you had cursed their name to hell and back for forsaking you like this, but, after Spencer offered to give you all the extra help you needed, you were suddenly exceedingly happy that your partner wasn't here.

You could see the scathing looks directed at you by some of the other girls in class. Of course you weren't the only one who had immediately taken a liking to the young GA. Only a blind person wouldn't be able to see how good looking he was. And the girls in your class were definitely not blind. You couldn't help but feel a bit smug that you would be getting his extra attention and not them.

Spencer, unbeknownst to you, was having similar thoughts and was mentally extending his gratitude to your absent lab partner. He was more than aware of the implications of coming onto a student, especially since as a GA he was in a position above you. But he wanted to be above you in the literal sense, and it was beginning to cause him to question his morals. You were the same age, so how bad could it really be? He’d noticed your frequent glances at him and reveled in the fact that you couldn't keep your eyes off of him.

During the course of the lab, Spencer was essentially your replacement lab partner. In an attempt to not show his blatant favoritism, he didn't actually guide you through the lab and instead just followed your instructions, such as pouring out chemicals into the waste bucket and washing beakers. Labs were lengthy enough with two people working together, and although Spencer would like to keep you all to himself past the time the others had already left, he remembered how miserable it was to have to stay late.

But even with his help, you still found yourself to be the last one. And not only were you the last one, but you weren’t even close to being done. Since there wasn't anyone to tell him otherwise, Spencer took pity on you and gave you far more help than he probably should have. But if he was being totally honest with himself, he just wanted an excuse to be close to you. Even though there was more than enough room at the bench, he still stood near enough that your arms occasionally brushed. Every time you handed him something he made sure his fingers met yours. And when you asked for his input about the data report? That was his favorite. His stature gave him the perfect excuse to lean down under the guise of seeing better, but he always bent down lower than he really needed to, just to have his face right next to yours and give him a front row seat to your flustered expression.

It took all of your willpower to keep your head out of the gutter. You were trying in vain to rationalize his actions. Like maybe he just didn't realize how close he was actually standing to you, and you were definitely overthinking the hand-to-hand contact, and maybe he just didn't have his contacts in and that’s why he was leaning so close. But try as you might, it wasn't enough to prevent you from getting severely distracted by the handsome GA, and getting severely distracted in a lab was typically advised against. In your flustered state, you grabbed the wrong pipette, and Spencer, just as distracted as you, didn't notice and was unable to stop the impending mistake.

Pipettes were made to measure precisely, but they don't all measure the same. So you'd royally fucked up the experiment by adding 10x the amount you were supposed to. And thanks to the stir plate the beaker was on, the solution was rapidly mixed together.

“Is it supposed to smell like that?” you asked nervously. It was a sharp, acrid smell, one you surely would have noticed earlier when your classmates were on this step.

Spencer was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the beaker, the stir bar still spinning wildly within. He noticed the smell you were speaking of and instantly pulled you backwards. “No, no it's not. Don't breathe it in.”

He covered the lower half of his face with his elbow and grabbed the beaker from the stir plate with his other hand. He made his way to the fume hood as quickly as he could and shut the beaker within. But it was too late. You’d both inhaled the gas already, and, thanks to your biology major, you were more than aware of how sensitive the lining of the lungs is. It was literally designed to allow for gaseous exchange. Whatever you’d accidentally created was already making its way throughout your body.

As Spencer was making his way back over to you, he noticed that he was beginning to feel incredibly hot, and his breathing was becoming shallower. It was shortly after the onset of those systems that he realized his pants were progressively getting tighter in the crotch. This could not be happening. What in god’s name had you created? He was practically panting when he got back to your workbench and found you in a similar state.

You immediately began to spew apologies, but Spencer wasn't listening. No, he was far too focused on keeping his hands at his sides and not on you. He held a hand up to stop you rambling and swallowed harshly, trying to get himself under control. “It was an accident. Are you feeling okay?”

“Feel like I have a fever and my heart is beating way faster than it was a minute ago.” Your panties were also becoming wetter by the second but he didn't need to know that.

Spencer’s normally sharp mind was in a flurry. Even though you hadn't told him in words, your body betrayed the fact that you were just as aroused as he was. The subtle rubbing of your thighs together was a dead giveaway. You had your back to him, hands braced against the edge of your workbench. If Spencer was thinking straight, he never would have acted on his inappropriate thoughts; but he wasn't thinking straight. He closed the distance between the two of you, leaving no space between your bodies. He placed his hands on either side of yours, effectively caging you in his arms. Your breath hitched at the intimate position you found yourself in.

“I know you feel what I do,” he said, slightly pushing his hips into yours, his hard cock straining against its confines. “We can help each other out. Or, you could tell me to fuck off and I’ll let go as soon as you tell me to. Whatever we do or don't do, it's your choice. Just tell me what you want.” His voice was breathy and high-pitched by the end, and his self control was splintering by the second.

You adjusted your stance, the movement causing you to brush against Spencer’s front. He gasped and his hands flew to your hips, gripping them tightly and holding you in place tightly against him. “Don't-,” he panted. “Don't do that. Not until you answer me. I won't be able to stop if-”

You cut him off. “I don't want you to stop.”

And that was it. Throwing caution to the wind, Spencer spun you around to face him. “Are you sure?”

You surged forward to kiss him. Your goggles clacked together and you pulled away with a giggle. “Very sure,” you said, pulling your goggles off. Spencer followed suit.

He nodded. “Ok. Ok.” He sounded like he was trying to reassure himself that this was really happening. Despite his nearly painful erection, he tried to be as gentle as he could with you. He reconnected your lips in a tentative kiss as he wrapped his arms around your waist, but with the strange gas the reaction produced was still in the air and still wreaking havoc on both of you, it didn't stay gentle for long. What had started as a hesitant kiss devolved into a harsh collision of teeth and tongue.

Spencer’s hands migrated from your hips to your ass, pulling you flush against him. He couldn't stop the involuntary thrust of his own hips, desperately seeking friction. His mouth separated from yours as he dragged his lips down your jaw and reattached to your neck, sucking harshly and surely leaving dark marks all along the column of your throat.

He lowered his hands just enough for his fingertips to brush the back of your thighs, squeezing twice in a silent indication to jump. You tightened your grip around his shoulders to give you leverage. He hoisted you up to sit on the countertop and pushed your shirt above your breasts. You removed it entirely to give him full access. He groaned as he took in the sight of you breathless before him. “You're so pretty for me,” he praised before roughly pulling the cups of your bra down, exposing your nipples to the chill air of the lab, a stark contrast to the heat that had spread throughout your body so rapidly. He latched his lips to the newly exposed skin, his hand groping the other one. You reached behind your back to unlatch your bra and tossed it aside.

You threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged, pulling him off of your chest and back up to your lips. Both of your patiences were wearing thin, and neither of you could get the other undressed fast enough. You tugged on his tie and it soon joined your bra and shirt on the floor. You continued to unbutton his dress shirt as his eager hands groped at every part of you they could reach. When you’d finally gotten his dress shirt open, he didn't even give you the time to admire his physique and instead pulled you from the counter top to stand again.

He tugged on the waistband of your pants and pushed them down, leaving you to kick the material off of your feet. He quickly spun you around and placed a hand between your shoulder blades, urging you to bend over. You did as he wanted and felt his hands caress and grope your behind before his fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down just enough to expose your cunt to his hungry eyes. He groaned at the sight. “You're so wet baby. All for me.”

Spencer dropped to his knees behind you and immediately pressed his face between your legs. You squealed at the sudden contact, his tongue doing wonders for the built up need you had for him. He licked a broad stripe up your pussy before alternating between suckling and licking the sensitive flesh. Your whines and whimpers only spurred him on further, becoming more vigorous with his ministrations. The increased intensity had you gasping for breath and calling his name. “That’s right, angel. Who's making you feel this good? Hm? Whose face are you going to cum all over?”

“Yours! Please, Spencer, don't stop!”

He chuckled briefly before resuming his eager lapping at your core. He hummed against you in affirmation, pushing you closer and closer to the edge until the pleasure was just too much to bear. You came with a cry of his name, and he didn't stop until you were begging for a reprieve.

The unnatural heat that had spread throughout your body upon inhalation of the fumes was finally dissipating, leaving you with the normal flush one would expect afterwards. But Spencer was nowhere near recovered, and he had no intentions of letting you go until he was satisfied. He stood from his place on the floor and made quick work of his belt, only pushing his pants low enough to free his aching cock, dripping with precum. He stroked himself as he spoke. “We’re not done yet, angel. Not by a long shot. Not until your sweet cunt is dripping with me.”

His words sent heat racing to your core. Who needs aphrodisiac fumes when Spencer can talk to you like that.

He swiped the tip of his cock through your folds a few times before lining his tip up with your opening. He pressed forward and groaned at the sensation of you squeezing around him so deliciously. He pushed further and further until he bottomed out. His jaw fell slack in complete and utter bliss. “Oh, you feel so good, baby. Can I move? Please, please, I can’t wait any longer,” he begged. You’d let him do anything if he begged you as prettily as he did then.

You hummed in assent, and he wasted no time in pulling out until just the head of his cock remained buried in you and then thrusting back in. You let out a loud moan, already completely overwhelmed with just how good he felt inside of you. The more he thrusted, the needier he got and the more that unnatural heat in his chest smoldered. His hands gripped your hips tightly and he pulled you back to meet him with every thrust into your sopping cunt.

“I'll bet none of those silly little frat boys can make you feel like this, huh. I’ll bet they always leave you unsatisfied. But you're gonna cum for me again, right? You can do that f’me, can't you? Be my good girl and cum all over my cock.”

The sound of skin slapping against skin increased in tempo as he chased his high, wanting nothing more than to feel you clench around him as he emptied himself inside of you. You moaned shamelessly, the deep and harsh thrusts of cock almost too much to bear. You couldn't speak even if you wanted to. The only word you were capable of uttering was his name.

His grunts were turning into whines the closer he got to his impending orgasm. “Cum with me, baby. C’mon, you can do it,” he said, moving one of his hands down to rub circles on your clit. That was all it took to have you creaming around his cock, your orgasm triggering his. The moan that came from him was pure sin as he spilled himself inside your cunt, just as he had promised. He collapsed on top of you, cock softening within you as it twitched with every flutter of your walls around him. When you had both sufficiently caught your breath, he stood back upon and gently pulled himself out of you. You winced at the loss of contact, still extremely sensitive. You pushed yourself off of the workbench and turned to see Spencer tucking himself back into his pants. It was then that you realized you were stark naked in a university laboratory. You saw your panties lying near your feet and you hastily put them back on, followed shortly after by the rest of your clothing, which Spencer helped pick up from the floor where they had been unceremoniously discarded.

“Would you want to get coffee with me sometime?” Spencer asked suddenly, the words spoken so fast they nearly blended together.

You were taken aback. You had expected him to want to pretend this never happened but here was asking you on a date. You grinned, a prominent blush on your face as you accepted his offer.

He beamed, a broad smile overtaking his face. “Great! I’ll pick you up Saturday morning?”

“Yeah, sounds good. I think I can safely assume it won't be the coffee shop on campus?”

“Even though we're the same age, you're still one of my students. So until you finish this course…” he trailed off.

You grabbed his tie and pulled him closer to you until your faces were a hairsbreadth apart. “I’m completely fine with being your dirty little secret until then as long as you fuck me like that again.”

[morlock-holmes]

Man, the AI conversation is so fucking weird.

Tech companies have shoved LLMs and image generators into every nook and cranny they can find, not to mention the fact that there are freeware ones as well.

Anybody reading this can play with AI themselves to find out what it can and can't do, it's right at your fingertips.

And pretty much the entire public conversation about the technology is just totally divorced from the product as it exists.

Instead, various interest groups are waging intense battles over what to do with products that exist entirely in their imagination.

Another review youtuber I otherwise like is doing the "AI is disgusting! Can you imagine somebody whose business model involved using copyrighted content to produce derivative works without permission and then distributing that work through massive data centers?" with just... seemingly no sense of irony whatsoever. Meanwhile, self-same youtuber directed me to Etsy's frankly bizarre AI rules:

While we allow the use of AI tools in the creative process, we prohibit the sale of AI prompt bundles on our platform. We believe that the prompts used to generate AI artwork are an integral part of the creative process and should not be sold separately from the final artwork. Selling prompt bundles without the accompanying finished artwork undermines the value of the artist's creative input and curation, which are essential to the creation of the unique, creative items that Etsy is known for.

Which, like... Okay...

Look, I'm no PR expert, but what was stopping them from saying,

"Given the incredibly widespread use of AI and the proliferation of models which all respond differently, prompt bundles are likely to have extremely limited value, and help with prompting can be found for free at numerous places."

I mean here's the thing: Prompt bundles only have value if AI technology doesn't improve. Like I don't think they ought to be cluttering up Etsy, there's enough garbage on there as it is and there are plenty of other places to find or purchase that stuff if you want it.

Hell you can ask an AI to come up with some prompts for you on a given subject.

I don't know, it's so disorienting that the entire conversation around something so directly accessible is so entirely divorced from the actual, tangible thing, and instead waged around what it might be in five years or what it was two years ago.

It's right here! We have it now! Why has that had so little effect on how we think about it?

[mysteryshoptls]

Ortho Shroud Shared Lines

Tutorial: I wonder what kind of fun stuff we have in store today. Can't wait to find out!

Level Up 1: It's important to store up data!

Level Up 2: Performance up!

Level Up 3: I can feel my capabilities drastically improving. I'm so happy.

Level Max: I've maxed out the potential in this gear. Watch and be amazed at my increased performance.

Vignette Level Up: Thanks for always taking care of me. I'll make sure to keep working hard so I can continue to be of use to you.

Spell Level Up: Technomantic energy is a constantly evolving field. There's no way it'd ever lose to any sort of archaic magic.

Friendship Level Up: Your room is such a mysterious wonder. It makes me want to come back over and over again. I’d like to solve this enigma, so please call me over again!

Friendship Level Max: I want to help you with setting up your room, too! Let me know the next time you’re redecorating, if you need anything heavy moved. I’ll change into a heavy-lifting attachment!

Uncapped: There's no limit how many modifications I can have. Keep an eye out for my updated, new-and-improved self!

Groovification: Update completed! Can't wait for you to check out my new functions.

Lesson Select 1: Gathering intel from external sources is the best way to train AI models.

Lesson Select 2: That class looks fun! I'll go ask my brother if I can tag along with you.

Lesson Select 3: Even if you get sleepy during class, don't worry. I've got 200 functions that'll help wake you up. I got your back.

Lesson Start: Let's do it to it～

Lesson Finish: I inputted so much data!

Battle Start: Activating battle enhancement mode.

Battle Won: Do you finally realize how strong we are～?

Trouble 1: Disengaging lock-on. Suspending combat mode.

Trouble 2: I didn’t use my beam, wasn’t that good of me?

GIFT CALENDAR 2023: “How will you be spending the day?” It’ll probably be a game day with my roommates, since the new game that I ordered online arrived. Physical games might take up more space, but I just can’t help but want to actually collect my favorite games, y'know?

Birthday Login Message 1: For you to want to celebrate my manufacturing day, you’re a bit of a romanticist, huh? I thought Nii-san would be the only one who would want to do something like that. Ehehe, I’m happy. Thanks!

Birthday Login Message 2: Wow, you came to wish me a happy birthday? Thanks! Ehehe, I’m super happy. Oh yeah, so there’s going to be a birthday party thrown for me today. I’d really like it if you could come too. You can think of making that wish come true as your present to me. Isn’t that perfect?

Birthday Login Message 3: Hey, do you know what today is? That’s right, it’s my manufacturing… I mean, my birthday! I love birthdays, because I get to spend so much time with everyone. I could barely wait for the date to change over! Will you come to the party, too? Hehe, awesome. Let’s have tons of fun today!

Birthday Login Message 4: Rolling… Action! Okay, give me my birthday wishes with a biiig smile! This? It’s a film camera I borrowed from the Film Research Club. I thought I’d capture my birthday memories on here. It could be a little difficult developing the film, but I thought it wouldn’t be bad to try something analog once in a while… Huh, you’ll lend me a hand? Thanks!

Requested by Anonymous.

[local-new-kid-super]

Wendy and fem new kid bonding over girl things? The new kid actually enjoys being able to “let their hair down” around them so to speak

Sorry this took so long, I got off a south park kick and then HARDCORE back into one recently because FBW is on gamepass. Thanks for the request!

Platonic!Call-girl/Wendy x New-girl!Reader

☆ Wendy is thrilled to have another girl in town who gets her. It's not that she isn't close with Bebe, I mean, they are both instrumental in making lists on the committee, but after Bebe pulled that gun on her, Wendy worries she's a little bit of a loose cannon. Between her on and off relationship with Stan and dealing with Eric in school, this poor girl needs some stable classmates.

☆ She loves having you over to work on school work, she's class president and prides herself on being smart. Being the new kid can't be easy, and doing work to catch up to everyone in class is much harder given Mr. Garrison doesn't seem like he cares to teach. Expect lots of study hangouts, where she helps you with some class work and the two of you just chat.

☆ Wendy always asks for your input for the girls' committee lists. You might be new, but that doesn't mean you need can't have an opinion. She's also going to go over the old lists to make sure you understand the people in South Park. "Listen up, new Kid!" She exclaims. "That list was rigged, that's the old cutest boy list... there was a whole- a whole thing." She shakes her head. "All that to say Clyde isn't the cutest. Here, check this one-"

☆ Makeovers! For all her skills and talents, Wendy has been shown to be against things she thinks perpetuate beauty standards. Personally, she doesn't feel like makeup is good or bad really, but she has other stuff to worry about. She's the class president. Luckily; she has you, New kid! She's happy to let you apply some purple glitter or maybe a fun gloss on her face, just don't expect her to wear it everyday. She claims she "-Doesn't want to look like a clown hooker for her English presentation". If you teach her how to keep nail polish to the lines of her nails, she'd actually really like that. She'd roll into school with a nice purple or pink shade on her nails, shooting you a wave.

☆ If you're both superheroes, she's thrilled at the prospect of having another girl to fight with. Frankly, she hates that the freedom Pals stand for 'retribution with inclusion', but didn't even bother getting girl members. She Dislikes Raccoon and friends for more obvious reasons. She'll help you to learn hacking just like her, or if you prefer a more hands on fighting style, she'll be your guy, or gal, in the chair, surveying the security cams and radioing in all relevant data from a nearby rooftop while you complete a mission. She doesn't like the idea of sidekicks, you're a team. Two girls lifting each other up, while making super-boys cry. Plus; she's secretly been manipulating your follower count on Raccoonstagram to make it much larger than it would be normally. Your new, and shes felt alone before. Call-girl sees now reason that you should be any less popular out of costume than in.

☆ "Just hacked into the Raccoon and Friends, um, computer..." she mumbles, thinking back to the Toshiba handi-book that's taped to a cardboard box. "Anyways, looks like they've got a lead on some petty crime from the post office warehouse. Package thief." She chuckles. "Wanna bet we can handle it in half the time?"

[callsign-dexter]

Knight in a Hawaiian Shirt (18+)

Request: Ok, I saw Top Gun Maverick again what feels like the 100th time, and I still love it so much ! It gets me goosebumps during so many scenes !

So I was wondering if you'd consider a Bradley Bradshaw imagine where he lays his eyes on a girl at the Hard Deck, who currently has a nasty conversation with a weird guy and Bradley notices how uncomfortable she feels, so as the gentlemen he is, he saves the girl, acting like her boyfriend and she's more than happy about that. After that they meet up regularly and she even stays over at his apartment from time to time (just cuddling) and one night as he holds her close, whispers in her ear that he loves her and thinks he's asleep, but you hear him, kiss him and if you like some smut, but if not, then just even more cuddles 😊

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut

Masterlist

A/N: @gunsandguardians and @imagine-all-the-fandoms prepare yourselves for some Bradley Bradshaw smut!

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw was having a day, no scratch that, Bradley was having a rough week. His jet had several malfunctions, he had meetings non-stop, Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson was breathing down his neck to get certain numbers and data, and to top it all off he and the rest of The Daggers took on a teaching position and the new Top Gun cadets were putting them through the ringer. He had to teach a multitude of young versions of Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. Also, all the females in the class were flirting with him and it was making his jaw tick and teeth clench. It was Friday which meant that it was time to let the load off and relax. Everyone had decided to go to The Hard Deck and he agreed very quickly and now he was leaning against the wall on his fourth beer of the night and he could practically feel the tension melt away. He had showered at the base getting rid of the smell of jet fuel and had changed into his typical Hawaiian shirt, white undershirt, jeans, and shoes. “What a day.” Jake said coming up to him, usually he was cocky and could match the energy but even he was admitting it was a tough day. After the mission the tension seemed to die down between them and they actually became friends.

“Day? What a week.” Bradley said, taking a drink and Jake nodded.

“You got that right.” Jake said 

“Bagman get over here so I can beat your ass at pool.” The voice of none other than Natasha 'Phoenix’ Trace said.

“You’re going down.” Jake said and started to walk over to her after patting Bradley on the shoulder. As the atmosphere around him grew into the usual Friday night crowd. He was tending to blend in with the crowd not looking to hook with anyone but that doesn’t mean he could still look around. 

“Hey.” Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd said to him and he was turning to look at him.

“You just got in here?” Bradley asked and Bob nodded.

“Yea, I needed to talk to Maverick and Cyclone about taking maternity leave.” Bob said he was married to his high school sweetheart and they were expecting a little boy. Finding out he was married shocked everyone.

“How is Marie and the baby doing?” Bradley asked

“She’s doing well. Ready to be done with the pregnancy especially since it has been so hot. Baby is healthy and stirring up trouble. I won’t be staying long.” Bob said

“Good. Yea I might not be staying long either. It’s been a tough week.” Bradley said and Bob nodded. Bob was then being pulled away by Phoenix which once again left Bradley alone. Throughout the night everyone had come up and talked to him and he mingled around. Currently everyone was crowded around the pool table and dart board. As they talked and mingled with each other and other patrons in the bar. At some point Natasha came over and started talking to him about a show that they were both watching. As he listened and gave input a distressed female voice, yours, and a very drunk voice came to his ears and he looked over in that direction. 

When he looked over, he was quickly breath taken at how beautiful you were. He wondered if his father, Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw, felt about his mother, Carole Bradshaw. As he was admiring you the more of the conversation he heard and the more he concentrated on your body language and face. He could see how uncomfortable he was. Being the gentleman, he was raised to be he wasn't going to stand for a female to be harassed and was surprised he hadn't had the bell rang or thrown out but after seeing the crowd in the bar he understood it would be hard to keep up. “Are you even listening?” She asked, snapping her fingers in front of his face and he turned to look at her.

“No sorry.” He said and she looked to where he was looking at.

“She's cute but I don't like how close that man is. She's very uncomfortable.” Natasha said and he nodded.

“I'm going to go do something about it.” He said and she smiled.

“Go be her knight in a Hawaiian shirt.” She said, pushing him. 

“I plan on it. I'll talk to you later.” He said and she nodded and he began his walk over to you. As he got closer the better, he could hear and it made his blood boil.

“How about me and you go back to my place and we can have some fun.” The man smirked.

“I'm not interested. Leave me alone, please.” You asked, trying to look for an escape.

“Oh, come on. I'm a lot of fun I promise. I can leave you satisfied.” He said

“I told you I'm not interested. I need to get back to my friends.” You said 

“I think they'll understand.” He said as he touched your arm and you flinched and was about to say something when Bradley beat you to it.

“They you are, Babe. I've been looking everywhere for you.” Bradley said and both you and the man looked up at him as he slung and arm around your shoulders.

To be honest you didn't want to come out tonight but it was your best friend’s, Shiloh, birthday and he wanted to go bar hopping. He begged you and after so long you finally agreed so you, him, his fiancé, Blake, and 3 other friends, Makayla, Rebecca, and Ruby, went on a bar hopping spree. As the night grew and you had been to several bars you actually started to ease into it and have fun. After visiting 3 other bars, you had barely drunk anything, so he decided to go to a cute little bar on the beach. He had about it and talked highly of it and what really sold you was the fact that it was a Navy bar, something about men in uniform did something to you. You had just arrived and had made your way over to a table and looked around. “This is cute.” Shiloh said, looking around.

“It is! Oh look, men in uniform!” Rebecca said practically squealing. 

“Would you keep it down? You'll get their attention.” Makayla said blushing but she couldn't deny that they were all good looking. You scanned the group but one caught your eye. He had a mustache and was in a Hawaiian shirt instead of the Khaki uniform. As you stared and daydreamed Blake spoke up. 

“I'm getting drinks. Everyone want something?” Blake asked

“Yes!” The group said and you nodded. Everyone told him what they wanted and he was off. It wasn't a few minutes later and he was coming back with drinks in hand. As the night went on you engaged with the group topic at hand and your attention forgot all about the man in a Hawaiian shirt. 

The 6 of you stayed longer at this bar, which you learned was named The Hard Deck, then any of the others but you weren't complaining. As the night went on you needed to use the bathroom so you nudged the closest person to you which happened to be Blake. “Hey I'm going to the bathroom; I'll be right back.” You said and he smiled and nodded.

“We'll be here.” He said and you chuckled and then left. You squeezed your way through and to the bathroom. You got in and to a stall and quickly did your business. Once you were done you walked out and washed your hands and headed out. You didn't get far from the bathroom before some sleazy drunk man was trapping you. 

“Hey beautiful lady.” He said and the stench of alcohol hit your nose and made it scrunch up.

“Please leave me alone.” You said trying to push past him.

“Oh, come on. I just want to get to know you better.” He said now smiling and it made your stomach flip.

“Please leave me alone. I need to get back to my friends.” You said and then his hand came to touch your arm and you tensed up.

“How about me and you go back to my place and we can have some fun.” The man smirked.

“I'm not interested. Leave me alone, please.” You asked, trying to look for an escape.

“Oh, come on. I'm a lot of fun I promise. I can leave you satisfied.” He said

“I told you I'm not interested. I need to get back to my friends.” You said 

“I think they'll understand.” He said as he touched your arm and you flinched but he wasn't paying attention to it.

“They you are, Babe. I've been looking everywhere for you.” A male voice said and both you and the man looked up at him as he slung and arm around your shoulders. He leaned down to your ear “Just go along with it.” He said and kissed your temple.

“Who the fuck are you?” The drunk man, you didn't even know his name, said.

“I'm her boyfriend. I've been looking for her everywhere. I got out of work late and was late getting here.” He said the tension you had melted away.

“I'm sorry I didn't wait for you. I wanted to get here and get a good table.” You said 

“It's ok, Babe.” He said and then turned towards the man who looked pissed. “I think it's time for you to leave. Leave before I have Penny ring the bell and you have to pay for everyone's round.” He said.

“Fucking bitch.” The drunk man said. 

“Penny!” The mustache man said and Penny looked over “Ring the bell. We have someone being disrespectful to a woman.” He said and she smiled and nodded. The sound of the bell rang and cheers erupted throughout the bar. The drunk man grumbled and walked off.

“Thank you so much.” You said looking up at him while moving to be in front of him and he looked down at you and smiled.

“It was my pleasure. I'm Bradley.” He said 

“I'm Y/N. I'm here with friends that decided to go bar hopping for another's birthday.” You said and Bradley smiled.

“Your group picked a good place to stop. The Hard Deck is a very nice place to be.” Bradley said and you nodded.

“I can agree with that. We've stayed here the longest out of all of them. I can't thank you enough for saving me from that man.” You said 

“I couldn't let a beautiful girl like you be harassed. My mom would beat my ass if I did.” He said and you chuckled. 

“Your Mom sounds like a smart woman.” You said

“She was. I lost her when I was 18.” He said 

“Oh gosh. I'm so sorry.” You said and he smiled. 

“I want to take you out on a date.” He said and you smiled.

“I would like that.” You said pulling out your phone and handing it to him and he was quick to grab his. You put your number in his phone and he put his in yours. 

“Pick you up at 7 tomorrow night?” He asked and you smiled up at him.

“That'll be perfect. I really need to get back to my friends.” You said and he smiled and nodded. 

“Can I walk you over to them? Just so nobody tries anything unwanted.” He asked and you smiled and he was already winning you over.

“I would really like that.” You said 

“Lead the way.” He said and so you did. 

“There you are! We were worried but then I saw you with this hunk of a man,” Shiloh said visibly checking him out but so was Blake “I knew you were good.” He said and you laughed.

“This here is Bradley and he saved me from a drunk man and got Penny to ring the bell on him.” You said

“Well, it's nice to meet the man that saved our girl.” Blake said and you blushed and then introduced everyone to him.

“Nice to meet you all.” He said 

“Yo Bradshaw!” Another male voice yelled and everyone looked over. 

“Now I have to go. I'll pick you up at 7 tomorrow night.” Bradley said the last part was directed at you.

“I'll text you the address.” You said

“Sounds perfect.” He said and then he was leaving as he was back with his group. You turned to yours and everyone was smiling.

“Oh, shut up.” You said and everyone laughed. The rest of the night consisted of you and Bradley sneaking glances at each other and blushing while looking down and smiling, Bradley would throw winks at you occasionally. You couldn't wait until tomorrow night.

The next day you were anxious about your date with Bradley that night. When you had gotten home the night before you sent him a quick text thanking him for saving you and your address. As the day grew on leading up to the night you were trying to figure out what to wear and sending text messages to everyone. 

3 hrs before the date there was a knock on the door and you were quick to go and open it. Behind the door was Blake and Shiloh. “We've come to help.” Blake said.

“I really don't need help.” You said but they looked you up and down and Shiloh pulled a face.

“Oh, Sweetie, you need us.” He said

“Is what I'm wearing that bad?” You asked

“It's not great.” He said as he led you to your closest and sat you down as he started to go through your closet with the occasional ‘no’ ‘definitely not’ ‘why do you still have this?’ you just sat back and smirked and chuckled at your best friend’s tactics. You loved him dearly and trusted him full heartedly. 

“You helped me pick some of this out. Just remember that.” You said and he stopped and looked at you.

“Yes, I remember. Everything is great but not for a first date with a hunk of a handsome man.” He said and you looked over at Blake.

“Do you hear your fiancée?” You asked

“I do and I agree.” He said and your mouth dropped open and you let a little scoff but it was a playful one. 

“Oh, this is perfect!” Shiloh finally said and pulled out a cute shirt that complimented your eyes. He held it up to you and nodded in approval “Yup this is the one.” He said and then handed it to you and then he went to your chest of drawers and started to root around them until he found a nice pair of jeans and then grabbed some comfortable shoes. 

“What would I do without you?” You asked

“Be unfashionable.” He said and you chuckled. You got dressed in your bathroom and then came out and they were both giving their approval. By the time you were done it was 7 and there was a knock on the door. Before you could even get out of the bedroom Blake was rushing to get the door. You could hear them laugh and talk and then you were walking out.

“You look beautiful.” He said 

“Thank you. You look handsome.” You said and he smiled.

“Thank you.” He said 

“Alright you two. Don't stay out too late and don't get into trouble. Call if you need anything.” Shiloh said as he was ushering the two of you out and closing the door behind you both.

“Sorry about them. I wasn't planning on them being there.” You said as you both walked to his Bronco.

“Nonsense. It's nice to have friends like them two.” He said 

“Yea they're pretty great. So, where are we headed?” You asked

“I hope you like Thai food. There is a place that has really good curry and pad thai.” He said 

“Thai food is one of my favorites.” You said as he drove to the restaurant. The car ride was filled with small talk and getting to know each other. When you arrived, he parked and was quick to get out to open your door. “Thank you.” You said.

“Anything for a beautiful woman like you.” He said and you blushed like mad. You both walked in and he gave them his name and you both were quickly being led to a table outside.

“I love the smell of the ocean and the sea breeze.” You said and he smiled.

“I love it too.” He said

“It seems we have a lot in common.” You said and he chuckled and nodded.

“It seems like it.” He said the date went smoothly. You both ordered the same thing and the same drink. You both laughed and shared stories until the restaurant started to close and both of you were forced to leave. “Want to walk the beach?” He asked as the sunset and casted a golden glow over everything and made him look much more attractive.

“I would love to.” You said and so the two of you set out walking the beach. Your pinkies touched each other and danced until your hands were coming to hold each other's. Both of you ended up sitting on the beach watching the waves crash into the beach and the moonlight lit everything up. It was a little chilly and he could tell so he brought you into his side. You laid your head on his shoulder testing the waters and when he brought you closer and didn't push you off you knew it was going to be great. It was getting late and you started to yawn.

“Are you ready to go back?” He asked

“Not really but it's getting late.” You said and he smiled. 

“I would love to continue this on another date.” He said and you smiled looking up at him as he looked down at you.

“I would love that.” You said and he was kissing the top of your head. You both got up and headed to his Bronco. He held your head on the way there and held it when he was driving you home. When you arrived at home, he walked you to your door and waited until you were inside before he left. It was dark when you got in which meant that Shiloh and Blake were gone. You smiled to yourself as you changed into something comfy. When you sat on your couch your phone dinged.

Bradley Bradshaw: Had a great time tonight. Can't wait to do it again.

You smiled and giggled and started to text back.

I had a great time too. How about next Saturday?

You didn't have to wait long before he responded.

Bradley Bradshaw: That sounds perfect.

How about a picnic on the beach at sundown maybe in the back of your Bronco?

Bradley Bradshaw: I would love that. Consider it a date.

You giggled and kicked your feet. You couldn't wait until next Saturday. You texted your friends letting them know you were home and that you had a second date and they all texted back in the group chat almost immediately. You answered and when everything seemed to calm down you put your phone next to you and turned on the TV already thinking about what to make.

Saturday rolled around and you were less nervous about this date then the one before and you had to admit to yourself that you were actually starting to fall in love with the mustached Naval Aviator. He has been the perfect gentleman to you and he considers your feelings when it comes to things. Throughout the week you two have been texting nonstop and some late-night phone calls were thrown in there as well and each time he had you blushing like mad and feeling things that no other man has made you feel. Throughout the week you were thinking of what you should bring on this picnic in the back of his prized Bronco. As the two of you talked and what seemed like 100 questions were asked you had some idea what to pack and a lot of it was your favorite foods. 

As the days rolled on and it was getting closer to Saturday you were beginning to feel nervous and maybe second guessing everything but as you talked with him more and more all of those feelings went away. When Saturday rolled around and he was knocking on your door and you answered it the nerves seemed to have gone away fully especially when you saw him standing there with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and your favorite chocolates that you had gone on about and how hard they both were to find. “Hi.” You said breathlessly and he smiled.

“Hi.” He replied back. “These are for you. I know you said they were both hard to find but when you have the right people and they owe you favors you can get them easily.” He rambled on and you just continued to smile and you leaned up and kissed him to get him to stop, sparks flew and you hoped they flew for him too.

“Thank you so much.” You said when you broke away. Then you realized that it was your first actual kiss that you both shared and he had this stunned look of love on his face and in his eyes. 

“You’re very welcome.” He said breathlessly.

“Let me put these up and the flowers in a vase and grab the basket then we can go.” You said and then turned around and walked into the kitchen and he followed and shut the door behind him. You both agreed that you would be the one to make the picnic basket since you knew more about food and how to cook. He did say he could cook but had no clue on what to include so you said that you would handle and boy was he glad you did. He watched you move effortlessly through the kitchen and grab a vase, fill it with water and then cut the flower’s stems and put them in. When you were done you turned to him “Alright, I’m ready to go. Do you care to grab the basket?” You asked and he smiled.

“I would love to do anything for you.” He said and you blushed and he smiled as he grabbed the basket and the both of you headed out of your house making sure to lock it and to his Bronco. He carefully put the basket in the back and opened the door for you and then got into the driver’s side and headed off to the secluded spot on the beach that he loved to go to when he needed to get away. 

“So where are we going?” You asked

“It's a secluded area of the beach that I go to when I need to get away. It’s so peaceful and the sunset is breathtaking.” He said and you smiled already knowing that you’re going to love it. As he drove, music played softly and you both were getting to know each other more. 10 minutes later he was pulling into the spot and then he turned around and backed the Bronco up so you both could sit on the tailgate or in the back like you both planned on it. He helped you up into the back and you got comfortable and then he was falling right behind you. You opened the basket and the both of you got what you wanted out and the date started, well it started when he picked you up but it really started when the sun began to set. You snuggled into him and he embraced it. The date went smoothly and you both were having a great time. The waves crashing against the rocks, the warm sea breeze that was slightly misting, and the music he had softly in the background was making it perfect. You could get used to this.

“This is perfect.” You said and he smiled.

“You’re perfect.” He said looking down at you and looked up at him. The sunset was casting a beautiful glow across his skin and it made him that more irresistible. You don’t know how long you stared at each other but you both were slowly leaning into each other until your lips were touching and once again sparks flew. You two only broke apart when air was needed and then you were turning to look out at the sun setting behind the ocean. The date lasted until the food and drinks ran out and the sun fully set. A lot of laughter filled the night and a lot of talking did as well. All too soon you both were cleaning up and getting back in the front and then he was driving you home. 

“I had an amazing night tonight.” You said as he pulled into your driveway and he parked. He turned to you and smiled.

“I had an amazing night too. Hopefully we can continue this.” Bradley said and you smiled and nodded.

“I would love that.” You said and you both were getting out of the Bronco and he grabbed the basket and headed to the house. When you got there you unlocked the front door and turned to him and he leaned down and kissed you and of course you kissed back. His mustache tickled you but it wasn’t uncomfortable when you broke apart. “Good night, Bradley.” You said and he smiled as you took the basket from him.

“Good night, Y/N.” He said and you smiled and turned to open the door and walked in and closed it. He waited until you were in and the door was locked before walking to his Bronco. He got in as his phone dinged. 

Had a great time tonight. Can’t wait to do it again.

Bradley Bradshaw: Name the place and time. 

Yup he was truly a keeper. You couldn’t wait for more dates and adventures with him.

1 month later (4 weeks)

You and Bradley had been dating for a month now and that time had been amazing and he was amazing. You and he had been non-stop talking and you both had been on multiple dates. You both had spent nights with each other but it only consisted of cuddles. Tonight, you both were at his place for date night, he brought up in a simple text one Friday afternoon. He offered to cook you your favorite meal which happened to be steak fettuccine alfredo with garlic bread, it turned out to be his favorite since childhood. You had agreed for you to be over at his place at 6 PM right as soon as you got off from work for the weekend.

6 PM on the dot and you were knocking on the door of his apartment and he was opening the door and the smell of food hit you and your stomach growled. “Someone sounds hungry.” He joked and you grinned bashfully.

“Starving. I didn’t get time to eat lunch today.” You admitted

“Baby, you can’t be doing that yourself.” He said as he started to usher you in and taking your jacket off and taking your purse and putting them away. 

“I didn’t mean to, it just happened. We just got really busy.” You said as he made you sit down on a chair that he pulled out for you.

“Well, it is a good thing that food is ready.” He said as he plated up a plate for you and put garlic bread on the side for you. He brought it over to you and set it down in front of you and then went to the fridge and got your favorite wine cooler and opened it for you and set it down in front of you. The smell of the food hit your nose and your stomach growled once again.

“This smells delicious.” You said as he sat down with his food and choice of drink.

“Eat up. Can’t let my Baby starve to death.” He said and your stomach filled with butterflies as you took your first fork full of the delicious food. He watched you as you took a bite and your eyes closed. You practically moaned at the taste and smiled and took a bite. “How is it?” He asked after he swallowed.

“Delicious.” You said and as you opened your eyes to look at him “You can cook this anytime.” You said and he smiled.

“I plan on it. It’s actually my mom’s recipe and she said it was one of my dad’s favorites.” He said and you smiled at him. You and he had talked about Carole and Goose and from the stories you could tell that they loved each other and they were good people. You had lost your parents at an early age and were raised by your uncle. As the both of you ate supper you both talked about anything that came to your mind and after several plates and your stomachs were full you both moved to the couch leaving the dishes for later. Dessert would be had later both of you being too full of the delicious meal he had cooked up. Work had worn you out that you were close to falling asleep, he had put on the show you both were currently watching together. He had turned you both to where you both were laying down on the couch. “Stay the night?” He asked and you turned to look up at him.

“You want me to?” You answered his question with a question.

“Only if you want to.” He said 

“I would love to.” You said he smiled and kissed you and you kissed back and then you turned to continue watching the show. It was harder and harder to keep your eyes open and you closed them. Bradley felt your body relax further and he cuddled you more. 

“I love you.” He whispered in your ear thinking that you were asleep but you weren’t. You turned in his arms and leaned up and kissed him and he kissed you back. Once air was needed you broke apart and looked at each other.

“I love you too.” You said smiling and he smiled back. This was the first time you both said that you loved each other. You both just stared at each other and then you both were leaning in and kissing each other feverishly. You both sat up and then he picked you up and headed off to the bedroom he gently laid you down and climbed on top of you gently. He kissed you and then he started to your jaw and started to nip you gently and it brought an ache between your legs that needed attention. He kissed and nipped his way down to your neck where you turned your head to give him better access, his mustache tickled you but it wasn’t uncomfortable it just added fuel to the fire. You let out a low moan that you couldn't help and you felt him smirk on your heated skin that was just getting hotter by the second. Bradley came up and you turned your head and looked at him. His eyes held something in them almost like asking if he could continue and you nodded. He slowly took off your shirt and you helped him and now you were in your bra and pants. 

“Tell me if you want to stop.” He said 

“Keep going.” You said and he nodded and continued. He slowly undressed you until you were fully naked in front of him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said and you blushed as he ran his hands up and down your sides. You made a move to the bottom of his t-shirt and he got the hint and took it off and added it to the pile of your clothes. You couldn’t help but stare and look him up and down, the Navy sure did him good. “You like what you see?” He asked.

“I do but I want to see what you have under those pants.” You said somehow finding the boldness and you could tell he loved that because he started to shed his pants and then his underwear. His cock sprang up and slapped his rock-hard abs. You only became wetter looking at him, he had the full package and you couldn’t believe it was all yours. “Fuck I definitely like what I see.” You said and smirked and then he smirked.

“I like what I see too.” He said looking you up and down. He then suddenly attacked your lips and licked your bottom lip and you parted your lips and your tongues fought for dominance he caressed your body. He brought one hand to the one place you needed him; he ran his hand through your folds and you moaned into his mouth he kept going until he pushed two thick digits into you and a wonderful stretch was welcomed. Bradley fingered fucked you as you both French kissed each other. He was getting you close to coming and he could tell and then he was pulling out of you and he broke the kiss. You were about to say something but he slid into you in one swift motion. 

“Fuck that feels good.” You moaned as he fully bottomed out of you. You were no virgin but it had been awhile since you had sex and each time you were never left satisfied but Bradley was satisfying you and it was only the beginning. 

“Talk about feeling good? You’re gripping me like you were made for me.” He moaned and you looked up into his honey brown eyes that his pupils had pretty much taken over. “You ok if I start moving?” He asked.

“Fuck yes.” You said and smirked and started to thrust his hips into yours and it brought you to seeing stars. “Fuck, Baby. You’re so big. You’re perfect.” You moaned as your hands went to his shoulder blades and gripped, fingernails leaving indents in his skin. He continued to thrust in and out of you making you feel good and in turn you squeezed him and made him moan.

“Keep doing that and I won’t last long.” He said 

“Fucking shit. You’re hitting all the right spots.” You moaned “Go faster.” You said but it sounded more like a demand and he was willing to fill that demand. He started to thrust faster and you started to get closer to that orgasm that was rapidly building. Moans and pants from both of you were filling the room and sweat started to break out on both of your bodies. 

“Fuck, I’m close.” He moaned and that dam was about to break.

“Me too.” You moaned and then he was attacking your lips again and then was kissing and nipping at your jaw again. His mustache scratching you just added to the pleasure and you loved it. You could feel him start to get sloppy and knew he was getting closer. 

“Cum with me.” He said almost demanded as his hand came down to your clit and started to give it attention and in turn it was bringing you closer. It wasn’t long after he nipped your neck and tugged on your clit you were squeezing him and coming on his cock and then he was stilling inside of you and painting your walls white. You both started to come down from your high as he pulled out of you and fell to the side of you. Both of you were sweaty and panting but you both didn’t care as you laid beside each other fucked out in bliss. 

“I love you.” You said and looked over at him and he looked over at you.

“I love you too.” He said and you smiled and kissed him and he kissed you back. He turned down the covers and the two of you crawled under them. He brought you into his chest and cuddled you. You yawned and he chuckled. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.” He said and you nodded and slowly closed your eyes and snuggled your head into his chest and fell asleep and once he saw your breath even out and he knew you were truly asleep he allowed himself to fall asleep.  

You knew you had found the one and you had to thank a drunk asshole for that. If he hadn’t tried so hard to get you to go home with him then you wouldn’t have met your amazing boyfriend that had faked being your boyfriend at the beginning. You both loved each other and that is all that mattered. 

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

@angenu01-blog

@gunsandguardians

[ellephlox]

Solidarity

Summary: Frank enlists your help on a dangerous mission. Matt’s not happy about it.

Pairings: Matt x f!reader, platonic Frank Castle & f!reader, platonic Matt & Frank

Warning: Strong profanity (looking at you, Frank). Canon-typical violence. There’s also dog abuse in this, so please proceed with caution!

“You will not believe how terrible my day was.” You were already complaining aloud as you started up the stairs to Matt’s apartment, perfectly aware that he’d be able to hear you. “My boss gave me triple the amount of work that’s humanly possible to complete within a month and somehow he expects me to do it within a week. And then he had the audacity to tell me that I shouldn’t wear my hair in a ponytail because it’s ‘too informal’ for the face of the company. I mean, what the hell does that even mean?”

One of Matt’s neighbors opened their apartment door as you marched up the steps, and you quickly lifted your phone to your ear as though you were talking to someone, lest they think you were just talking to yourself. “And then my coworker took my data — you know, all that stuff I had been inputting onto that Google Doc the other day? And he presented it as his own, no credit to me. I can’t even report him because he’s supposed to retire in a week so it’s pointless anyway.” 

You continued to gripe as you unlocked the door, chucking your keys down and tossing your shoes off so violently that they hit the wall. “Anyway, I’m in a bad mood now, so I have two propositions — well, demands, I guess — for you. One: We watch Jeopardy tonight. In pajamas. I will object if you’re still wearing a tie.” You unzipped your coat and tossed it haphazardly onto the coat rack. “Two: My friend asked if we’ve ever showered together before — you know, typical girl talk questions — and I told her we hadn’t, so I was thinking—” You stopped dead as you entered the living room, your stomach plummeting. Leaning on the wall by the window, arms crossed, was Matt, wearing his devil suit, complete with the helmet on and his billy clubs dangling in his hands. And across from him, standing with an actual gun in his hand, was Frank Castle. Mortification sent heat into your face, and for a moment you just stood there, at a loss for words. 

“We have company,” Matt said dryly, uncrossing his arms and standing up straight.

“I can see that,” you said finally. “You didn’t think to... I don’t know, shoot a text warning me?” Your cheeks were searing; had you seriously just proposed showering with Matt in front of the Punisher, of all people? 

“I was a bit preoccupied all day with making sure Trigger Happy over here didn’t shoot anyone,” Matt said, his jaw tense. 

Frank snorted. “Red, you’d be bleeding out in an alley if I hadn’t saved your ass. Get off your high horse.”

“Yeah. Okay. But you couldn’t have said something, anything at all, when I walked in?  Like, ‘Hey, honey, there’s a wanted fugitive standing in our living room, just so you know.’ Sorry, Mr. Castle,” you added in an undertone to him. “Um — I’m not trying to make you feel unwelcome or anything, I just feel a bit awkward about earlier, so—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Frank said shortly, his gaze still trained on Matt. “We gonna stand here with your girl watching us and argue all afternoon? Or are we going to get this done?”

“Get what done?” you asked.

It was Frank who answered, and from the way Matt was standing with his back straight as a ruler now, you had the sense he wasn’t pleased, for whatever reason. “There’s a shipment of heroin that’s supposed to arrive tonight. The dealers have been selling to kids on the street to make a quick buck.”

“It’s due to come in at midnight,” Matt said. “But the source I talked to last night doesn’t know which dock.”

You made of sound of sympathy. “I take it you’ll be having to sweep a lot of territory tonight, then?”

“That’s a damn understatement,” Frank said. “We’re not just talking about the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, ma’am. We’re talking all the way down to Chelsea, and the piers in Brooklyn Heights.”

“But that’s impossible to scope out,” you said slowly. “Even if Matt’s standing in the center of all the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, he couldn’t possibly hear all the way down to Chelsea, let alone Brooklyn.”

“Which is why we’re in for a rough night,” Matt said. “I called Jessica, Luke, and Danny. They’re all out of town.” He jutted his chin at Frank. “And that’s why we’re here together.”

“I ain’t happy about it either,” Frank added. “He’s already talking my ass off about moral obligation and shit. Feels like I’m in church.”

"Because you tried to stab the guy in the throat after he gave us information we needed.”

“If you could see, Red, then you’d know from the look in that guy’s eyes that he planned on murdering us the second that we turned our backs on him—”

“Which is why I tied him up and left him for Mahoney.”

“I have a better idea,” you said, cutting in before anything could escalate. “I can help.” 

Matt’s response was immediate and scathing. “No.”

"Oh, come on — I get it if you want to do your whole ‘Fly home, Buddy, I work alone’ thing, but you’re not working alone, you’re working with the Punish— I mean, Mr. Castle. I’ll be supremely insulted forever if you don’t let me help.”

“If you think that I’ll let those dealers anywhere near you—” Matt began, but you interrupted again.

“Look, I’ve always waited here patiently and uselessly while you do your deviling every night, but can’t you give me a chance? Maybe we’ll be a dream team. Terrific trio. Second Edition Avengers. The Scooby gang minus a talking dog.”

“She could help, Red,” Frank said, sending an unreadable look in your direction. “I say we do it. She can camp out at Brooklyn. I mean, the guy said that they could dock there, but they never have before. Odds are they’ll be in Chelsea or Hell’s Kitchen.”

“So, what? We throw her to the wolves in Brooklyn where we can’t get to her easily if things go south?” Matt looked as though he were about two seconds from socking Frank in the jaw. Or worse, two seconds from handcuffing you to the apartment so that you wouldn’t leave. 

“No,” you said firmly. “Things won’t go south. Matt, I’m not going to... I don’t know, engage in a fight with them. I’m not a vigilante. I’ll just hide and keep an eye on the docks, then if they show up, I’ll call you.”

“I’ll stay in Chelsea,” Frank said. “I know you get all weird about the Kitchen, Red, so it’s all yours.”

Matt was standing stock still, grinding his teeth. Finally he ground out, “It’s too dangerous.”

“So is driving a car. So is crossing the street. And yet I’ve done both many, many times,” you said. “I’ll be completely fine. Why would dealers have any reason to go after a random passerby, even if they did see me? Which they won’t,” you added hurriedly. “Because I’ll stay safely out of sight.”

“Perfect.” Frank checked his watch. “I ain’t staying here while we twiddle our thumbs and wait for midnight to roll around. Give Y/N my burner number, Red.”

“I’d never have thought you’d do this, Frank,” Matt said, his voice low. “I thought you at least were on my side when it came to keeping people safe who—”

“Who are what?” you said sharply. “I might not have... superpowers, or, I don’t know, a weird bloodthirstiness — sorry again, Mr. Castle — but I can still help.”

“Call me Frank.” Frank leveled his gaze at you. “And cut the apologizing shit.”

“Uh. Okay.” You had to bite your tongue to keep from apologizing again.

And, somehow, you actually ended up on the mission. You took the C train down to Brooklyn Heights after enduring a very long and very dry lecture from Matt on how you were to stay out of sight no matter what and to call him should any boat arrive with men wearing ski masks. 

And, in all honesty, you weren’t nervous. The likelihood of the dealers showing up at your assigned docks was slim. And even if they did, you’d just have to make a quick phone call to both of them, and then camp out. Easy-peasy. 

You settled in on a wooden bench overlooking the piers, wishing you had worn more than your jacket. The temperature had dropped more than expected when the sun had set, and now you shivered slightly, the cold metal of a knife against your thigh. Just in case. 

How exactly you were actually out here, on a real mission, with Matt willingly letting you out of his protection, you weren’t sure. It was exhilarating, though. The city was dark, yet not really; it was aglow with the street lamps and headlights and apartment windows whose blinds hadn’t been closed yet. You scrunched up your legs to conserve body heat and regretted not bringing a blanket, too. And a pillow. That would’ve made the bench slightly less rock hard against your bottom. 

Seriously, how did Matt do this kind of thing every night? Fifteen minutes in and you were already missing the warmth of home. 

You glanced at the skyline. Somewhere, on the other side of those skyscrapers, Matt was waiting as well. Probably he wasn’t curled up on a bench like you were, though. It was more likely that he’d be stalking the rooftops, or pacing in the shadows. 

And then movement caught your eye, at just after 12:30 in the morning. You scrambled to your feet, squinting in the dark. It was a boat, fast approaching the pier just next to you. 

No way. Yeah, you were on lookout, but somehow you’d convinced yourself that the dealers wouldn’t actually show up on your end. You waited to call Frank and Matt, though, because in case it was a different boat, you didn’t want to raise a false alarm. You moved away from your bench and began walking leisurely down the pier, as though you were going for a nighttime stroll. All you needed to do was get a good glimpse of them, then you’d head up the street where you could watch from a safer spot. 

“In, out! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” someone said, a bit loudly, from the deck of the ship. You swiveled your head to see him, and sure enough, he had a ski mask. Swiftly you pulled out your phone and fire off a quick text to both Matt and Frank. You were about to leave the pier altogether when a bark made you stop short. 

....A dog?

“Shut the bitch up!” one of the men snarled. “We get caught, then all the goods get seized.”

“She’s been fucking howling the whole way, what am I supposed to do?”

“Give her a piece of food.”

“What food? You ate the rest of it, man.”

“Can’t believe we’re bringing this dog anyway. Boss already has six bitches. Why does he need another?”

“She’s some special breed, or some shit, I don’t know. Sells for a thousand bucks a pop. Grab that box. Like I said — in, out. We’re already late.”

The dog kept barking, though, and you winced as the man kicked the poor thing in the ribs. Piece of shit. You wanted to go up there and throttle him yourself. If Matt or Frank would just get here already, then you’d be able to relax, but it would still be at least twenty minutes...

And what if the dealers got away in that time frame?

The dog started barking again, and suddenly, without any word of warning, one of the men picked the dog up like a sack of potatoes and threw her overboard. “To hell with the extra cash. That’s how you deal with security problems,” you heard him say as he wiped his hands on his pants. “Get moving, go, go, go! Unload this shit so we can get out of here!”

Below, the dog’s frantic head slipped below the surface.

Oh, hell no. 

Your feet were moving even before you could make an executive decision in your mind. The cold of the evening was forgotten, as were Matt’s strict words to not be seen, no matter what happens, and you dove into the water, where the dog had fell beneath the black waves beside the pier. 

Fortunately, it was summer, and as shockingly cold as the water was, it wasn’t anywhere near deathly cold. You couldn’t see anything, and desperately tried to listen for the dog, but you didn’t have Matt’s ears, and for a moment panic swelled inside you that this dog would drown, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing. 

And then you saw movement, out of the corner of your eye. The dog was struggling to stay afloat, her snout barely making it out of the water. You grabbed her around the middle and kicked with all your might, coughing on water and unable to see hardly anything except for the blurry outline of the pier. There had to be a ladder somewhere along there, and you groped blindly along the edge, seeking out a grip to pull yourself and the dog up. 

For a moment, you completely forgot about the dealers behind you. All you could think about was getting the dog safely onto land, and with a massive effort you lifted her up. Her paws scrambled against the edge of the pier, but with a good shove to her rump, she was able to get over the edge and dash away into the shadows. 

Good luck out there, doggie. You started to climb the ladder yourself, but froze when you heard the telltale click of a gun being cocked in front of you. Slowly you looked up, your blood running cold at the sight of a gun pointed straight at your forehead. The man holding it had his hair tied back in a bun, and there was a horrible expression on his face that told you he wouldn’t have any qualms about pulling the trigger. 

“Should I shoot, boss?” he asked, his eyes not moving from your face. “Stupid girl’s seen us. She’ll probably run her mouth and tell the cops.”

Your brain felt as though it were short-circuiting. “I swear, I won’t tell a soul. You have my word. Really, I’ll just leave here, and I promise—”

“Do it!” one of the men shouted from the boat. “Get it done so you can get your ass back up here to help. You know how many bodies there are in the Upper Bay? She’ll just be another.”

Your heart was punching the inside of your rib cage. You considered falling backwards to try to swim away, but what good would it do? There was no other way to get back onto land nearby except for this ladder, and you didn’t trust yourself to swim around the boat and across to the next pier without simply getting shot en route. Lunging up the rest of the ladder to fight him was an even worse option. Even if you could fight like Matt (which you could safely say was not the case), you were at a disadvantage; he had the high ground. 

But you didn’t have a choice. The man lunged down and grabbed you by the collar of your jacket, hoisting you up onto the pier. You shivered violently, unsure of whether it was from fear or cold. The man looked you over. “Could hold her for ransom, Tom. That’d bring in some extra cash.”

“No.” The man, who must’ve been Tom, shook his head. “That’s just a surefire way to get attention from the cops. Let’s take her in. We’ll kill her once we’re back on open water and dump her body in the Atlantic. Much cleaner that way.”

The man holding you grunted in agreement and shoved you forward up the ramp to the boat. You obeyed only because of the gun pressed against your temple, feeling like you might vomit any second. 

Where are Matt and Frank? The night was as still as a reflecting pool. It was as though the city itself had gone to sleep, abandoning you to these men, and you had to choke down the rising lump in your throat that was making you feel like you might cry any second or pass out. But tears wouldn’t come, as you were led into a cabin, your mouth promptly duct-taped closed. The sensation made you panic even more — a little air could get through to your nose, but not much, and the sudden feeling of being near to asphyxiation made you even more light-headed. 

The men, however, seemed to forget about you as soon as they tied you to the chair. That they hadn’t killed you immediately was the most relieving of mercies, and you struggled fruitlessly to escape your bonds, feeling supremely useless. Surely Matt would arrive any second; he would hear exactly where you were, you reasoned, and he’d make his way to you as soon as he could. Any minute you’d hear the sound of a baton ricocheting off some unfortunate skulls or the cracking as bones shattered under his fists. 

But instead, it was bullets you heard first. Frank. You gritted your teeth, hearing the shouts of men that were surely being killed without a second thought. Hopping with your feet, you were able to wiggle your chair forward slightly until you could see outside the cabin door. Frank’s silhouette was a menacing shape against the moonlight. 

Where is Matt?

One of the largest men — Tom, you recalled — suddenly came barreling into the room, a gun in his hand. He untied you violently, yanking the rope so roughly against your wrists that you gasped under the tape, and then dragged you forward, the gun against your head. Unceremoniously you were toppled from the chair, your knees slamming down onto hard wood. 

“Drop your gun!” Tom jabbed his gun against your forehead so hard that you saw stars. “Drop it now and put your hands behind your head, or I’ll blow her brains out!”

Through your fuzzy vision you saw Frank freeze. His gaze was cold; calculating, and for the first time you wondered what your value was in Frank’s mind, compared to the triumph of offing some criminals. Which was worth more to him? For a moment, you feared he would prioritize killing the smugglers. His fist clenched even tighter around the gun, and he drew in level breaths, without lowering his gaze for even a second. 

“I swear to God I’m pulling this trigger in ten seconds if you don’t drop it,” Tom said, and he dragged the tip of the gun so that it was placed precisely against your temple. Water was still dripping from your clothing and goosebumps were raised so violently on your skin that you felt like you had chicken pox, but that was nothing compared to the electric adrenaline shooting down your spine, as though your nervous system was screaming at you to do something, anything, but it was to no avail; all you could do was stay on your knees, as still as possible, and keep your head lowered. 

And then, as though he’d made a snap decision, Frank set the gun down.

“Kick it over here,” Tom ordered. 

Frank obeyed, slowly raising his hands to his head. “The gun’s down,” he said. “Now let her go.”

Tom’s grip on you tightened. “You’re a fool,” he said, and suddenly you knew what was about to happen, from the steadying of his hands and the firmer press of the gun against your temple. You wrenched yourself away from him, just as the bullet fired off, and the heat of it barely grazed your shoulder as you dove away. 

The victory was short-lived, though. Tom aimed again, and this time you were on the ground, with nowhere to go. You screwed your eyes shut, sending a silent apology to Matt, and...

The bullet never came. 

Gingerly you opened your eyes to see the devil punching Tom with all his wrath and fury. Frank had already picked up his gun again and was running towards the back of the boat, where you knew there were still a few more crew members. Quickly you crawled backwards to get out of the path of Matt and Tom, the latter of whom was being thrown against the cabin wall. 

That had been close. Way, way too close. You fumbled for the duct tape and ripped it off your mouth, lightheaded from breathing irregularly. Stars formed in front of your vision and you had to slow yourself down, drawing in air and then releasing it slowly. 

Matt was still slamming his fist into the face of Tom, and blood was spurting everywhere. You squinted at them, your heart dropping — far too much blood was spraying out, and Matt was showing no signs of slowing down —

“It’s okay. You’ve got him,” you whispered, the words coming out of your mouth in a rasp. “Matt.”

Matt dropped Tom, who slid to the ground, unconscious. Using the edge of the boat to support yourself, you stood up slowly, and limped over to Matt; your knees were still aching from earlier. Gently you reached towards his shoulders. “I can call 911.”

“He deserves to die.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” you said. Matt was in a dangerous anger, you could tell; one wrong move and he’d do something he’d regret for the rest of his life. Choosing the right words now was imperative. “A judge will decide that.”

“He tried to kill you,” Matt snapped, whirling around and knocking your arm off his shoulder. “If he had — if he’d succeeded—”

“But he didn’t.”

“Does that matter?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Frank got there first. “Cool down, Red,” he said, as nonchalantly as though you were all at dinner together. “Your girl’s safe. We got the drugs before they could get shipped.”

“Don’t talk to me like I need to be calmed down,” Matt said, his voice hardly more than a snarl. 

Frank stared at Matt for a few moments. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “To answer your question. It does matter that he tried killing her.” Then, without warning, he shot Tom, square in the forehead. You yelped, looking away from the bloody hole where his head was now caved in. His features were unrecognizable, and hollow in death, and yet you couldn’t help looking back at him, his eyes meeting yours as though he still were alive. 

“Get her out of here. Warm her up,” Frank said, nodding at you. “I’ve got other business to do this evening.”

“Other business?” you asked, but Matt was reaching for you, skating his hands over your body. 

“Sorry,” you said lamely, shaking slightly from the adrenaline. “I sort of disobeyed the only rule.”

“You could have died.”

“But there was a dog, and I had to save it — they tossed the poor thing overboard. I couldn’t just sit by.”

And, to your surprise, Matt’s lips cracked into a small smile. Though you couldn’t see his eyes under the mask, you could feel his warmth. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

Frank was gone already. Together, you and Matt exited the boat, and it took all of your willpower to not look back at the corpse. 

“So,” you said, taking Matt’s hand as you walked down the dark street together. The feeling of the duct tape was lingering on your mouth, and the way that you had been tied up — the gun against your head — and it was making your heart race. Even though Matt would see right through you (hear right through you?), you adopted a casual tone. “How was my audition? Can I officially be the Assistant Daredevil?”

“You’re deflecting.”

“I’m not deflecting. I’m just wondering if I passed some sort of test, and if you’ll let me join you now—”

“Sweetheart.” Matt stopped short and pulled you into the shadows between buildings. “You’re not fooling me.”

“I’m not trying to fool you.” Your mouth was dry. 

“That was intense. You don’t have to pretend it wasn’t. You could’ve died.” Matt’s voice shook a bit, and you were reminded that as terrifying as it was for you, it had probably been even worse for Matt. Because if you had died, and it was technically on his watch... yeah. That wouldn’t have gone over well. 

You cupped his face, and he leaned into it slightly. “Okay. I’m a bit freaked out. But I’m okay.”

“Who’s reassuring who, now?” he said after a moment, and that warm, small smile returned. He pulled you in closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly enough that you had to draw in a short breath. 

“Maybe...” Your voice came out in a whisper. “Maybe we both need it tonight.” 

A/N: Sorry for the slightly rushed ending but this was beginning to expand a bit too much and I didn’t want it to feel like it should have multiple chapters. Honestly, I wasn’t happy with this piece so it’s been sitting in my drafts for about a year now, but it’s been awhile since I posted a one shot, so... here we are.

Hope you all had a great day, thanks so much for reading! 

-Elle

[yoursweetwife]

hi i’m absolutely brain rottimg about dr ratio while trying to complete a lab report

just thinking about his partner complaining about statistics and about how they despise statistical analysis. they’ve got this report to do (i wonder where this idea is coming from…) and they’re dreading it

he notices them furrowing their brows as they input data into this analysis program, cursing under their breath.

“aeons, why is this so confusing…? the graphs they use… why can’t i tell if…” they’re mumbling under their breath, absolutely confused. they’ve actually been at it for a while, and ratio *hates* to admit that he’s beginning to miss their presence…

so he goes up and pries the laptop out of their hands, with a soft mumble of ‘you’re an idiot’ under his breath.

“i’ll help you out. it’s better than watching you fumble with the data like an idiot.” he says softly, but he really is too embarrassed to admit he would literally do their whole lab report for them if they asked him.

just thinking of soft fluffy dr ratio begrudgingly helping his partner suffer through their lab work. as a reward they smother him in kisses and he hates to admit he enjoys seeing them so happy and thankful…

GET HIM OUT OF MY BRAIN!!! IM BRAINROTTING!! I WANT HIM DEAD /J

Sorry, it took me a long time to respond to your request. Since you didn't specify gender, I decided to take a female reader

synopsis: [name] was tired and Ratio decided to help his lover

frmale!reader

Sitting on the flock sofa, Ratio looked up from his book from time to time to look at his watch. From the outside it may seem that he is completely calm, but inside the scientist was trying to overcome his own anxiety. Only the rapid tapping of his fingers on the pages of the book betrayed his irritation.

Ratio ran his hand through his disheveled hair and sighed irritably. How long he's been sitting here? Ever since you told him to go to bed alone because you had a lab report to fill out, and Ratio knew how much you hated that, but you hated asking him for help even more. And no matter how much Veritas respected you for this, your absence began to bother him.

And Ratio hates this feeling, now even being alone in the room seems like some kind of torture, he’s used to your more physical displays of affection, cuddling against his side, resting your head on his shoulder..

Quiet rustling noises made Ratio glance displeasedly towards the kitchen. He put the book on the coffee table and headed into the next room, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Already at the door frame, his golden eyes met your tired figure. He could hear you irritably whispering curses under your breath while writing something down, and Ratio began to fear that you were about to cry, seeing your completely confused face and futile attempts to fill out the table.

You didn't even notice his bulky figure standing right in front of you, and his worried expression never reached your eyes. For a couple of seconds, he had the urge to throw the ill-fated laptop out the window.

"Oh, I don't understand...what.."

Here again, Ratio rubbed the bridge of his nose, and with light steps walked straight to the table, before you even had time to come to your senses, as the gadget slammed shut in front of your face, making you flinch.

Veritas stands at the side of the table, keeping his hand on the computer and staring irritably straight into your tired eyes. His whole body was tense, as evidenced by the bulging veins on his strong arms and twitching muscles, you almost thought that he was going to scold you for your idiocy, as if you were one of his students.

"Veritas, what are you doing?"

He interrupted your question and leaned closer to your face, and you involuntarily held your breath, avoiding his assessing gaze and waiting for the next words.

“Idiot, how long are you going to rack your brain over such basic things? If you continue to stare mindlessly at the screen, knowledge will not appear in your head automatically.”

Ratio crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you expectantly. You laughed awkwardly and leaned back in your chair, relaxing for the first time in hours.

“What else could I do but stare mindlessly?”

You decided to joke to diffuse the tension. But your lover seemed to take it seriously and pointed to himself proudly.

"For example, asking me for help."

The look of surprise your face did not go unnoticed, but almost immediately it was replaced by a slight smile. Ratio's face relaxed a little, and his cheeks turned a light crimson shade.He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"I'll help you. It's better than watching you fiddle with data like an idiot."

In just a second he was sitting next to you, opening laptop to see what he had to work with. For aeons, he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible and be in a soft bed with you in his arms.

You silently watched Veritas’s actions, listening to his explanations, but your thoughts constantly went somewhere else. Contrary to popular belief, Ratio is quite a cute lover, especially in the mornings when he is too sleepy to try to act cool and confident. And his attempts to hide his need for you are adorable.

Soon the work was almost finished, and you even learned something during this time and helped Veritas, for which you received a dry “not bad,” but pride was visible in his eyes.

You couldn't help but yawn, causing tears to form in your eyes. Your lover shook his head softly. His sweet troubled woman.

"Time for bed, you look like you might faint from exhaustion."

“Thank you, Veritas, now I’ll clean everything up and we’ll go...”

Just as you reached for the mess on the table, Veritas stopped your hand, gently grabbing your wrist, and looked at you sternly.

"I'm pretty sure it can wait until tomorrow."

"But..."

With his free hand, Veritas lifted your chin while the other rested on your waist.

"No "but", we're going to the room now and you won't get out of bed until the next morning."

Ratio said, draw out each word. A deep blush filled your cheeks, for the first time Veritas looked so...needy, and he also seemed surprised by his own words.

Veritas let go of you almost immediately and turned away, trying to hide his red face, but you prevented him by grabbing both of his hands.

“It seems like I never thanked you for your help, does it?”

Your soft hands came to rest on his face, pulling him closer to place a light but passionate kiss on his lips. And Veritas wasted no time in deepening the kiss, leaning into your soothing touch.

If you always thank him like that, then he is ready to fill out thousands of such reports.

You soon broke contact and a few more quick kisses landed on his cheeks, forehead and nose, causing him to protest, but despite the outward hostility, Veritas clearly wanted more, and you were going to give it to him.

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE PRE-SEASON TESTING

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. it's pre-season testing time!

content warnings. smau & written parts, written in 3rd person & lowercase, not edited & proofread

word count. 1.1k

notes. we're dipping into the season, slowly but surely... this took me some time to finish, i literally didn't know what to write for testing ://

"we are here in bahrain, pre-season testing for all teams in 2025, welcome everyone!" croft greets the whole world, as live footage is shown across the devices. the camera spans over the whole track, to each individual paddock until stopping at the final one, in blinding white.

"the season is starting with a bang, for the first time in formula one, we will see a stark owned team on the track! in white and chrome they are, an iconic design and everyone is eager to see what the stark manufactured cars can do!"

"how right you are, david! welcome, i'm will buxton and i have someone of interest with me here. right here, in front of the stark racing garage- y/n stark, number 95, one of the drivers for stark racing. so, y/n, tell me, how are you feeling? are you ready for the first time in the car?"

"hello will, thank you for having me. well, it's not quite the first time in the car, we had a testing back in miami at the end of january, but it's something different to be officially here now. but i'm feeling confident- we have our data, the predicted numbers and we think we'll be able to achieve them."

"so, no major upgrades or changes planned?" y/n shakes her head with a grin.

"do you really think i'm going to answer that question? ask me again, when we're done." will laughs at that, nodding his head in understanding.

"understandable, but i will hold you onto that! gonna knock on the garage doors three days later." y/n laughs again, head thrown back. "but, y/n, how does it feel to be on the paddock? have you met the rest of the drivers yet? made any new friendships?"

"well..."

"can you turn that off?", carlos gruffly asks his teammate, who just waves his hand at him as answer. with a groan, he stares at the tv, showing the first driver interview of the day, y/n stark. her voice washes over him, empty answers of being excited to properly meet everyone and maybe even bond with a few drivers.

"i don't know why you're so obsessed, perceval." charles immediatly splutters, waving his hands to deny the accusation.

"i'm not! but it's so interesting! tony stark is literally here, aren't you at least a bit excited? arthur said that y/n is like him!"

"what, arrogant? self-centered?"

"carlos! stop being so negative! i meant like- a genius! someone who raced with her back in f3 is friends with arthur, i forgot his name, but apparently y/n constantly does calculations while she drives. that's why she's so good overtaking." carlos just sighs and leaves charles to whatever he's doing right now. he has no interest in this circus.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ 🏎️ ˖⁺‧₊˚—

kevin watches the interviews from the sideline, completely satisfied with how everyone is hounding y/n and leaving him in peace. of course he had his fair amount of questions and interviews, but much less than his teammate.

it has been a whirlwind, ever since he joined the team. strange, for a while, everything seeming so futuristic, but now his glasses feel like a another part of his race suit he's putting on every day.

the team has been welcoming, open to his input, but it's very clear to him that y/n is their star driver and he's the support. and he's alright with it. of course, winning a championship would mean everything, but he knows he's not going to continue this forever. especially not when he has a kid, he's missing so much... something he dislikes, because family means everything to him.

this is why his contract is only for two years. if he wishes to continue and his results at the end of the season are steady, tony promised him a seat as long he wishes for. he is incredibly thankful for this offer, fully knowing that this kind of support doesn't exist in formula one.

"ready to go?", he asks, after y/n's press officer ushers her out of the mob called journalists.

"so ready to go", she grins. but they're not alone, the netflix camera's immediately surround them and capture their walk to the garage. people part from them, staring openly at the drivers. one of the most iconic footage later shown in the drive to survive documentary.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ 🏎️ ˖⁺‧₊˚—

"so, here he goes, kevin magnussen for stark racing, leaving his side of the garage. the car is looking incredible, i really like the color!", comments crofty and the other men immediately begin to chatter as well. throwing in rumors and hearsay about the team, they expertly fill the silence of kevin doing his first lap on the track.

"last to leave the garage and on the track, all eyes are on stark racing- oh and there he goes, picking up the speed!"

"his tyres seem to have warmed up- woah! look at the smoothness! kevin seems to be home in his car, his struggles from the last season are nowhere to be seen", adds jenson, while the cameras continue to follow the white car with the number 20.

"and there he goes! on medium tyres, setting the third fastest lap already, this looks definitely promising." will shares his own thoughts, reminding the viewers that there is definitely a possibility of stark racing going at least one or two seconds faster.

"by the looks of it, the stark racing team seems to be satisfied- honestly can't tell much, the glasses are hiding too much", jokes another man and all of them laugh. "bloody starks, am i right?"

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ 🏎️ ˖⁺‧₊˚—

the testing days are filled with endless laps and data, followed by long hours of debrief. they've already proven that they're fast, slotting themselves on the upper half of the grid, sticking close to the more experienced teams.

speculations are thrown around, is stark racing sandbagging? of course they must be, while others think that this is the best they can do. neither of the drivers or the team principal lose a word on it, instead they repeat always the same statements.

"we delivered what we predicted."

"we tested our theories, confirmed or debunked them, so the past three days have been very productive."

"we're exactly there where we want to be and we know our next steps."

empty words and yet the journalists pounce on them as if they're the next headlines. the whole world watches with eagerness as stark racing finishes up their debut in formula one and they impatiently await the first race of the season.

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles, @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora, @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024