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ferrstappen · 10 months

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Max the wag: are we the drama? l Max Verstappen Imagine

happy note: hello my loviessssss! How are you all? It feels like it’s been an eternity and I am so so happy to be back to writing and interacting with your great and incredible asks and everything <3 and I know I said this was supposed to be ready by Monday or so? but I started an internship and it's been harder than expected, but I'm getting the hang of it so be prepared for more works to come!

Probably tomorrow I’ll be posting a list of all the requests I’m incredibly behind but that way you know I got them and are on my mind and will be written <3 I also don’t know if you like the idea of starting a tag list? Please please let me know, babes <3

ALSO I got an incredible request of the Max the wag series involving our boy Yuki AND I LOVED IT SO MUCH so it’s absolutely happening!

YOU CAND FIND THE MAX THE WAG SERIES HERE

summary: For the first time, Max and you find yourselves on the other end of the gossip.

Hungary Grand Prix, 2023.

Max wasn’t feeling like himself.

The car upgrades were supposed to be great, not to make him struggle and happy a shitty day, which meant shitty questions, passive aggressive press conference trying to not look so annoyed, but it didn’t help that the press was painstakingly working to get the worst angles with furrowed eyebrows and waving off strangers trying to aggressively approach him.

Of course, it didn’t help you weren’t there to hold his hand walking around the paddock, forcing his blue eyes to focus on your calming smile and the inevitable lovestruck expression plastered on his face.

And yes, he was letting out the fact he didn’t leave Monaco in the best of terms. He’d grown accustomed to you tagging along to most races, but when you informed him you wouldn’t be able to make it to the last two races before summer break he didn’t take it the best way.

Yes, Max understood you were needed at your job and deadlines were way more difficult to meet with changing time zones, bumpy flights and noisy paddocks and hospitalities, but it didn’t change the fact that he needed you and his selfish self really needed you cheering for him, even if you’d seen him win enough times already.

In conclusion, it was safe to say he didn’t really feel like putting on a genuine smile or goof around with interviewers who’d ask the same questions while Christian tells him off for looking unapproachable.

The only thing that turned the corners of his mouth was a WhatsApp attachment from you, Jimmy and Sassy sleeping with the F1 channel on full display on the TV.

It wasn’t long until Twitter and Instagram fan accounts came to the conclusion you weren’t there with Max, creating a small discussion with some people arguing that it didn’t make sense you’d tagged along to places like Baku or Melbourne and not go to a race less far away and arguably one of the most popular tracks of the season, while other people defended you saying you had your own life apart from being Max’s girlfriend, you had a job, conferences to attend amongst other things, so it was ridiculous to expect you to be there for every race, no matter how much you loved Max.

You don’t know whether it was the fact you didn’t post a story on Instagram celebrating Max’s win or the fact Max hadn’t been his best self, struggling with the car, losing control over the tiniest thing and just losing focus overall the fuel for some fans to start speculating about the status of your relationship.

User1: why hasn’t y/n posted something about max?? she always does when she’s not with him

User2: something’s sus

User3: no pls I cant handle another July break up

User4: max deserves someone who shows up for him! He arguably had the most difficult weekend of the season and she’s mia

User5: she’s always there for him and has a right to have her own life grow the hell up!

Belgian Grand Prix, 2023

Last race before summer break meant most people on the paddock were a turmoil of emotions between the desire for the weekend to be completely over and wishing to do the best possible job before the break.

Max convinced himself he was coming into the weekend relaxed, knowing he’d have to put his best strategies, talent and focus for Spa, but a few free weeks were right around the corner so he could recharge with you, staying in bed for the entire morning before getting up to get ready to go out, maybe arriving back to the apartment drunk and giggly only to regret everything during the morning, but with the knowledge you were going to do the exact same.

He was facetiming you when he came across lots of fans wanting his attention, asking for pictures, until someone asked for you and Max pretended he didn’t listen, not wanting to answer things about his relationship, and the woman that asked wasn’t even sharp enough to catch your face on full display on his screen.

Had Max known the chaos it would ensue not answering the simple question about you, maybe he’d reconsider, especially since Lando and him jumped from the paddock to a helicopter waiting to take them to the closing night of Tomorrowland where Martin Garrix was closing the last weekend.

User1: *attached video* pls pls you HAVE to see the discomfort on max face when someone asked him about y/n something is not right with parents

User2: we all know he never speaks about her thoo, im keeping my hopes up!!!!

User4: I’m calling break up and good cuz I never liked her always acted like she was too good for the f1 world and never communicated w fans

User3: that’s called being reserved moron!!1 you don’t see other wags taking pics with fans except maybe lily bc she’s a pro golfer!!!

You were sitting on your bed when Victoria sent a thread on Twitter (or X? or Threads? it’s confusing) pointing at every proof and detail about your supposed break up, ironically asking if you had something to inform the family since Max hadn’t said anything.

With widened eyes and unable to contain the urge to see what people were saying about Max and you, two hours later you were still reading gossip sites and didn’t even hear the door of the penthouse opening with both Sassy and Jimmy running away from the feet of the bed.

“Is this the welcome I get?” Max’s voice announced his arrival, catching you by surprise and throwing the phone in the air.

“Fuck, Max! You scared the shit out of me, I hate you!” You laughed, finally realizing he was right in front of you and kneeling on the bed to attach your arms around his neck, allowing Max to grab you by the thighs and spin you around while you left small kisses on his cheeks.

“What were you reading? You looked very focused,” Max carefully placed you back on the mattress before throwing his body and groaning at the feeling of his muscles relaxing.

“Did you know we broke up?” You questioned your boyfriend whose blue eyes opened as much as they could, eyebrows raised and slightly moving his head in confusion.

Max was confused but still demanded an answer on what was going on as he watched the corners of your mouth lifting and quiet giggles leaving them.

“Look, it’s full of theories because I didn’t attend the last races and after you went with Lando to watch Martin, some fans started drawing their own conclusions!”

“Are they insane? Speculating about other people’s love lives is so rude, and just because I didn’t answer a question about you which I never do? People are crazy!” Max exclaimed on an irritated tone, but quickly caught your eyes, making him realize the people commenting were doing the exact same thing as you, just on a larger scale.

“Baby, I think this time we are the drama…” You stated before the bedroom became quiet.

It was just Max and you staring at each other, recalling every time you eavesdropped a conversation that clearly wasn’t meant for either of you to hear, or discussed different theories on who had cheated, who had broken up with whom, why some partners were so young or looked almost identical.

“Schatz, I am not going to lie,” Max started with a frown and serious face before continuing. “I am very proud of us” After letting it out Max started laughing, his cheeks flushing and placing his hand over his mouth to try to stifle the sounds.

“Baby, this definitely means we made it!”

It was bound to happen, you were meant to eventually become a source of spectacle if you enjoyed gossiping about other people’s lives so much.

After laughing to the brink of tears, Max kissed your lips; softly, slowly and sensually, making it hard to separate but he stared right into your eyes and asked you in all seriousness: “Should we feed the gossip? Wouldn’t it be fun?”

#max the wag #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen au #max verstappen x you #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fic #f1 fics #Max Verstappen

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cerise-on-top · 6 months

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Cuddling HCs

TF141, LVQ, Valeria, Graves, Alex, Farah, Laswell and Nikolai, again. These are the last batch of HCs I have written out for now. I do have two stories written out, one for Ghost and one for Graves, but I'm not sure I should post those. Anyway, for the most part these are sleepy cuddles, I suppose. Very self-indulgent, but that's what writing something like this is in general. SFW and gender neutral, as per usual.

Price: He’s a captain, so naturally he loves being the one to hold you, doesn’t matter if you’re spooning or you’re safely tucked away under his chin. Of course, he’s the big, strong man in whatever your relationship may be, so he just wants to protect you. He’s so used to taking care of others and making sure they’re alright, that it comes second nature to him to try and make you feel safe too. If you ever suggested him being the one to be held he’d smile, almost laugh, at the idea, thinking it to be rather silly. But when he’s in your arms for once? He gets very comfortable and sleepy, it never occurred to him that being cuddled would be so nice. He has no qualms about asking you to hold him either, he knows you understand.

Gaz: Such a cuddlebug, honestly. You wanna hold him? You wanna be held by him? Either is fine, as long as you switch it up from time to time. Becomes especially cuddly if he’s tired, that’s when he’d love to simply grab you and lie down for the night with you. Even just a nap is alright, in spite of him not taking them very often. Loves putting his head on your chest, something about hearing a loved one’s heartbeat is just so calming to him. Every time you’re cuddling he simply closes his eyes and there’s a chance he might just fall asleep. While he might be willing to engage in conversation while cuddling, don’t expect him to always respond with full sentences, sometimes he’ll barely even hear you with how relaxed he is. Doesn’t have an iron grip on you, but it will tighten for a moment when you try to get up. That’s when he snaps back to reality and needs to remember where he is for a moment.

Ghost: This guy is actually so touch-starved, but he’d rather do anything else than admit it as he’s afraid of becoming too much. Give him a taste of what a good cuddle session is like, he’ll think about it constantly. The first few times will be him holding you only. After that? You may request holding him, if you ask him a few times he’ll crumble eventually. It’s one thing to hold someone, because if you do it right then they can’t hurt you. But being held? Being spooned, cradled or given affection otherwise? He actually becomes so soft. If you gently rub his back or run your hand over his skin otherwise you can get him to fall asleep and snore softly. Doesn’t move in his sleep but good luck trying to get out of his grasp. If it’s you he’ll try to not have an iron grip and hurt you, but it’s not exactly something he can control either when he’s asleep.

Soap: Despite being open to either, he prefers being the one to hold you. It makes him feel more masculine, but that’s what he tells himself. In reality he simply sleeps more easily holding something, or someone. When he falls asleep holding you, you can actually watch his facial expression be relaxed, his mouth somewhat curving upwards too. Nuzzles into you like there’s no tomorrow, either that or he’s nestling into you like a dog or cat moving the blanket to make it just that bit more comfortable. Sleepy talks are a given for him, he loves hearing about anything and everything as he takes in your warmth. In return, he’ll tell you about how he convinced Gaz he stepped on a ladybug, when it was really just a red Skittles. If you’re spooning and he’s feeling a little bit mischievous he might graze your tummy with his hands to make you giggle.

Alejandro: He has a high rank, but he’s aware of how cathartic being held can be. Thus he’s not above asking you for some cuddles. If neither of you have anything important going on, he might just pick you up and carry you to the nearest soft surface. Loves gently scratching your scalp and feel you melt under his touch, especially if you only respond to him via humming after some time. He slightly prefers holding over being held, but on a bad day he loves nothing more than to have you run your fingers through his hair instead. If you’re lying on a bed together then he loves facing you, whoever moves first to hold the other gets to be the bigger person for the time being. Very much a talker before sleepy time, he has so much to tell you about. Besides, hearing your voice heals his soul just as much as being physically close to you.

Rodolfo: He’s more inclined to admit he’s touch-starved than Ghost, but he feels a bit embarrassed to do that. Likes holding you, but if he could choose, then he’d choose to be held every single time. There’s just something so nice about not having to worry about a thing, about being the one who gets protected for once. Trust me when I say that if something were to happen he’s the first one to jump into action, he can be quite ruthless, but putting your trust into someone else, difficult as it may be, really pays off when you have found the right person. However, even if you just hold his hand while you’re lying next to each other, he’s quite content. Not much of a talker, plus he gets a bit self-conscious as well. He’s a sergeant major, that’s not too low of a rank, should he really be the one to get treated like this? Pull him close to you and reassure him that you love any sort of cuddling with him from time to time and he’ll be very happy, though.

Valeria: Much like a hug from her, it’s hard to get her to cuddle you. She’s not entirely opposed to it after a lot of time has passed, but she will be cautious. Even then, she’ll, for the most part, only agree to spooning, but she will absolutely never be the smaller spoon. It doesn’t matter how awful she feels, she’ll never be comfortable in that position. She doesn’t have the most time for that sort of thing either, something always comes up and she can barely get any rest. While she likely won’t fall asleep cuddling someone, what you can do to ease her nerves is give her a plushie. She’ll scoff and make fun of it, but she appreciates it. Hell, from time to time she’ll fall asleep cuddling it and think of you. As much as she hates to admit it, if she’s had it for long enough she’ll grow a bit softer around you and give just the tiniest amount of more physical affection. Don’t mention it, though. She’s aware, but she can’t particularly help it.

Graves: Another guy who prefers holding. However, it’s much harder to get him to be the one being held. He has too much pride for that sort of thing. Yes, he dishes out physical affection like it’s nothing, but he’s rarely on the receiving end, especially for something along the lines of cuddling. And yes, that is because of his own doing. If you beg and plead enough, though, he might let you. Feels pretty indifferent to being held, but if it makes you truly happy he can indulge you once or twice. But be aware, the second he can, he will switch it around so you’re being held again. You can fight all you want, even when he’s tired it’ll likely be a losing battle for you. Not too much of a talker when he’s about to sleep, but he’s more than happy to listen to you talk about whatever is on your mind. Loves having you bury your face in your chest and fall asleep like that, like Soap, it makes him feel very manly and needed.

Alex: It doesn’t matter to him which way you want it, he’s happy with any position and any role. Hell, he’s a true switch at heart when it comes to something like this. Loves just coming up to you and putting his arms around you. And if either of you are tired the chances of that happening increase exponentially. Nuzzles into you, adjusts himself so both of you are comfortable, might hum a small melody as well. Latter is something he sort of just picked up from Farah, but he likes the idea of humming a small tune to make you relax. Not too much of a talker, he just gets sleepy when he gets to cuddle you. If it isn’t too hot then you can expect him to grab a fluffy blanket and put it over the two of you, even if he doesn’t want to let you go. Nothing beats holding a loved one and hearing them talk about anything and everything while under a comfortable blanket.

Farah: Gives off the impression that she prefers to do the holding, loves being held just as much. It grounds her and reminds her of her cause. As mentioned, she might hum a tune when she’s very comfortable, or when she wants to calm you down. During night time, there’s a chance she might become just a tad more melancholic, but it won’t deter her from sleeping. She does sleep especially well if the both of you are cuddling. If she trusts you enough she can go any way with cuddling as well. Her and Alex seem to influence each other quite a bit. While she may not have the most time to cuddle with you, she does like to do so whenever she can, it reminds her of some good, gone-by times. Despite not liking to dwell too much on the past, there’s nothing wrong with remembering the nice things that have happened. Life can’t always be suffering.

Laswell: Not always too big on cuddling, but she does like it from time to time. When she’s had a rough and exhausting day, nothing beats holding a loved one under the covers. It’s those days that she sort of does think about being held from time to time, putting her head on your chest. Her job is rough, so having someone and something to do to decompress is a pleasant change of pace. Cuddles are infrequent, mostly because of her job requiring her to be everywhere at once, but it’s worth it when she does have the time. Not much of a talker when she’s just about to fall asleep, but doesn’t mind you talking either. She especially loves it when you tell her a funny anecdote or a joke, it’s something soft and easy to drift off to sleep to. Her brain goes haywire, even in her sleep, but when she falls asleep cuddling you then she dreams about you very often too.

Nikolai: You’d need to be especially close for some cuddles, but once you are, then you can just go for it. As long as he isn’t busy and you aren’t in public you can just walk up to him and wrap your arms around him. If you drag him onto a couch, a bed or any other soft surface he’ll just let you. It’s a bit funny to him, he lets you do just about anything, you get away with so much, even though, if he really wanted to, he could eliminate you in just about every way possible. Loves cradling your head and pressing it to his chest. More of a cuddler, but if you ask to hold him, you may. Takes a while to fall asleep, but if you’re awake to hear it, you can hear him slip up from time to time. In the linguistic sense. He knows eight languages, it’s not gonna get more coherent when he’s about to doze off. His grip, however, does not falter when he’s asleep. Once you’re stuck, you’re stuck with him and you won’t get out of his grasp until he wakes up again.

#cod #cod x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #valeria garza x reader #phillip graves x reader #alex keller x reader #farah karim x reader #kate laswell x reader #cod nikolai x reader

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uhohdad · 9 months

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EXPERIMENTAL - Konig Fic Part 2

Summary: Konig helps Researcher!Reader with a new technology they’ve been developing.

Part one: X

AO3 Link: X

Warnings: Flirting, Sexual Content, NSFW, Reader x Konig, talk of standard war stuff, Reader is a bit of a pervert. Non-con Voyeurism. Reader has anxious thoughts/low-self esteem-ish? No use of y/n, abduction, bondage, blood and injury.

Word Count: 7.2k

Reader gender/sex is incomprehensible cause I do it for the girls, the gays, and the theys

NSFW under the cut

It probably didn’t mean anything, right?

How common is your name, really? He probably was just thinking about his girlfriend or wife at home who just happens to share the same name as you, the same wife he didn’t happen to mention during your introductions - even if it would have been a really good icebreaker.

Yeah, that’s it.

It couldn’t have been about you.

Could it?

Your thoughts are spiraling now, not giving yourself the room to dissect one detail before your brain throws another at you. You still haven’t moved, wide eyes watching warm light reflect on his skin as he basks in post-orgasm bliss.

He’s still for a while, and you’re wondering if the finish had tired him out enough to lull him into a nap.

After a few minutes of watching the rise and fall of his chest, you decide the show was over and closed out of the software. There was some part of you, some part you’d hoped wouldn’t ever come to light, that decided to keep his feed connected.

You’ve crossed so many lines already. In for a penny, in for a pound, right?

You feel like you’ve ruined whatever chance you’ve had with him, violating his privacy like this. This was a man that wasn’t even comfortable showing his face, how did you think he was going to feel knowing a stranger has not only seen him fully naked but watched him jerk his cock to completion?

He doesn’t have to know. No one has to know. It’ll be our little secret and we’ll just pretend it never happened.

Yeah, you acted real casual today when you hadn’t done a horrible, awful, perverted thing. I’m sure you’ll act real casual the next time you have to look him in the eyes.

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

You rest your head on your keyboard not-so-gently, accidentally booting up an ancient mail software that was sure to kick your laptop’s fans into overdrive. An audible groan leaves your mouth.

Who knew non-consensual voyeurism would leave such a horrific feeling of guilt in the pit of your stomach?

That and the arousal that sits right underneath. Your underwear now had a wet stain from watching the show, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together as you had.

There was no way you were going to be able to focus on work now. You had been planning on staying late, but there’s no way you can analyze today’s data. Review his feed. Replay your conversations. Hear his breathing…

No, you just can’t do it right now. It’s too much.

You do a quick round of the lab, performing a sloppy iteration of your closing procedures, pack up your things, and head out for the day.

Before you do, you decide you might as well round out the horrific deed by doing one last terrible thing.

You pair your personal cell phone to the software and send yourself the erotic recording of Konig.

You’ll start fresh tomorrow, you decide.

————————————————————-

You most certainly did not start fresh tomorrow.

The next few days are a vicious cycle.

Go to work. Review Konig’s simulation footage. Fantasize. Feel guilty. Review raw data. Think about Konig touching himself. Feel aroused. Feel guilty. Rewrite codes. Go home. Watch erotic recording. Feel aroused. Get off.

Feel guilty.

You can’t help it. You’re out of control, an addict desperate to get their fix, ashamed of their actions but lacking the willpower to quit.

How are you supposed to stop thinking about him when all day at work you’re watching him fight his way through the shoot house, strong hands gripping his gun, and hearing to that laugh?

How can you go home and ignore the recording of him finishing while moaning your name?

You must have replayed it a thousand times. He moaned it like he was begging you, pleading with you. Such a powerful man choking on your name. Even after a full week had passed, it still had the power to excite you in ways you haven’t felt in ages.

Your next meeting with Konig was scheduled for today and if you had to judge solely by the feeling in your gut, you would’ve guessed you had eaten rocks for breakfast. Your brain tells you to flee and fast but your body is promised to these four walls. Your leg bounces as you pick at the fingers that beg for something to do besides type code.

You wanted to call it off. Tell Konig you weren’t feeling well and you’d try again next week. Or maybe hit the bricks entirely. Just walk out of the building and never look back. Forget about everything.

You’re reconsidering your career choices as a steady knock on the lab’s swinging door rips you from your thoughts.

Your wince before you look up, quickly plastering what you hope is a convincing smile on your face.

He catches your eyes through the glass and you notice them crinkle, unable to place an emotion to it. You’d been dreading this moment all week. Even going so far as to avoid looking at his live feed after the incident, just in case you weren’t able to feign the natural responses of hearing his recounts for the ‘first’ time. That in addition to the intrapersonal understanding that you couldn’t handle carrying anymore guilt-rocks in your stomach.

Looking him in the eyes was as hard as you imagined it to be. He pushes open the door and steps in, standing hesitantly near the entrance like he did last week. You notice he has a notepad in one hand, and it looks so comically small compared to his size. Like a giant holding a sticky note. In the other he holds your earpiece in an open palm, as if hesitant to wrap his fingers around it.

It doesn’t help that the first word that left his mouth as he entered the lab was your name. Flashbacks to his sweaty body, shuddering in pleasure as he came all over his rippling muscles grab your attention.

He had followed it up with something, but you had been too distracted to catch it. You close your eyes, touching your hand to your forehead.

You were not doing a very good job hiding your fluster.

“I’m so sorry- what’d you say?” You give a small laugh, partly to ease the tension in your chest and partly at the situation itself. It’s not funny, you know that. It’s terrible. So terribly ridiculous that you can’t help but laugh at yourself for getting yourself into this mess. Your hand follows through the rest of your hair in an effort to soothe yourself before falling back down at your side.

“Good to see you.” He repeats, tilting his head, taking just a few careful steps closer to you. His eyes dart to the side briefly before returning to you, “Is everything okay?”

You give another weak laugh, “Yeah, sorry. Just still in the zone.” You gesture vaguely at scattered papers and devices on the table. You don’t give him a chance to pry further, “How was it?”

He takes a moment to eye you carefully, and you are sure he’s about to call your bluff before he responds, “Remarkable.”

You swallow, breaking eye contact with him again. It’s always been hard for you to accept a compliment. You're hoping he doesn’t notice the warmth creeping up your cheeks, but you know you have absolutely no right to such a request after what you’ve done.

He clears his throat before he continues, “I promised you I would have feedback. It wasn’t easy.” He holds his notepad up briefly as he steps up to the table to carefully set it down along with your earpiece. You can see from across the table he’s got a few scribbled sentences spaced out on the notepad. You take note of his sloppy handwriting from across the table, before realizing he didn’t write in English.

He looks down at his notes and you’re thankful you have something to stare at that’s not Konig’s eyes or intimidating frame. You’re trying hard not to think about the body filling out his gear. You’ve grown so accustomed to seeing him naked that it’s almost strange to see him with his uniform on.

You can tell he takes a deep breath before continuing and you wonder briefly if he’s nervous about sharing his feedback, worried he will hurt your feelings. “You mentioned before that it scans objects?” The end of his sentence lifts, almost like he’s asking you a question, “I think it would be good to make sure that the user is always made aware of landmines. I’m positive it will save lives.”

“Yes, absolutely. That’s a great idea.” You nod as you jot his ideas down on your laptop, a reminder to update your code.

You’re happy to be talking shop. Even happier to be talking about defensive designs instead of offensive ones.

The way he rubs his bicep with his opposing hand triggers a realization. You finally look at his eyes, his still staring down at his notes, and watch him for a moment.

The idea didn’t come from thin air.

You wonder what he saw, what traumatic memories are being replayed behind the downcast eyes to inspire such an idea.

You feel an ache in your chest for him, the desire to alienate his discomfort but unequipped to do so. Instead you look at him, your eyes swollen with sympathy and the corner of your mouth pinched in a frown.

He takes a moment before looking back up at you. He notices your warped expression but misinterprets it, “Am I overstepping?”

Your voice is low and you press a hand to your heart, “No, Konig, not at all. This is very helpful.” You’re not sure what else to say to him. What do you say to a man haunted by the violence he’s witnessed?

The only thing you can do is make sure it doesn’t happen again.

You’re not working for the government anymore, you decided. You’re going to work for Konig. To tailor your device with the purpose to save and protect him.

So you stick to the topic at hand. “Any other ideas?” You ask, voice still soft with empathy as you glance down at the notes written in German.

“Uh,” He clears his throat again and touches the back of his neck over his hood, the fabric pulling a bit on the front, “Sometimes when we’re in the heat of things, I can’t always get to my remote.” He gestured to the band on his wrist. “Do you think it would be possible to have voice command?”

Your brain’s mulling over the possibility. You’re surprised you haven’t thought of it yet. You could eliminate the remote entirely, you’re sure your supervisor will be elated with the big savings on material costs. The earpiece already has a microphone for the comm, it wouldn’t be hard for you to configure it to an additional feature.

“Absolutely, voice control. That’s clever.” Your brain is already running with alternatives to the wrist remote as you type his ideas, “Do you go on a lot of missions that require stealth?” It’s easier to make eye contact with him when you’re discussing work. He nods, and you continue, “In addition to voice command, I could also add hand controls, able to identify and respond to the signal you give it - totally silent.” You tap your fingers on the table twice, “The only draw I can think of is having to memorize control signals.”

He thinks it over for a moment and shifts in his spot, “That’s even better.”

“I think it’ll be best to have both.” Your keyboard clicks under your fingers as you enter the ideas coming to you faster than you can get them down.

This is great. I’m not even thinking about-

Stop it.

“These are great, Konig, really. Anything else?”

Your encouragement makes him look away. You follow his stare as it darts to the side and then down to his notes. He places one hand on the table next to the notepad as he leans his weight onto it.

You briefly picture yourself between him and the table, his arm pinning you in as he towers over you, hunched to watch you like you’re his prey, chests so close they’re almost touching.

You quickly push the thought to the side, moving your attention back to your laptop. The only way to survive this meeting is to repress.

Repress your memories of what he looks like with his cock in his hand, arching his hips into the thrusts. Repress the sound of his moans and your name echoing clearly in your brain. Repress the guilt from the breach of privacy to the highest degree.

Please, just until we get through this.

You close your eyes and take a breath to collect yourself while he’s not looking.

He’s got other things written on the notepad, you’re sure. Unless the two ideas he’d already pitched managed to take up the whole page. “No.”

Your brows furrow, the question leaving your mouth without thought, “You’re sure?”

He pauses. You can tell he’s sitting on a thought, but you don’t know what.

“It’s okay. Like I said, it’s just a prototype. You won’t hurt my feelings.”

He straightens his posture before he speaks, “No. That was all I could think of.” He swallows, “If you feel I didn’t make good on my promise, I can fix it.”

“No, no!” You say with urgency, a hand shaking in his direction, “Those ideas you gave me were perfect. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t holding back on me.” A weak laugh escapes you. “I can’t stress how helpful this has been. I’m glad we’re doing this.”

Konig looks at you, those intimidating eyes staring at you from across the table. You wish you could see his face, hoping it would give some insight on what was going through his head. Even if you could you don’t think you’d be able to maintain eye contact.

He knows.

No, he doesn’t, shut up.

“I’ll keep thinking.” He says definitively, like he’s trying to right a wrong.

“You’ve only had it for a week,” you reassure, “Besides, you’ve given me plenty to work with.” You force a smile at him, not even caring how it’s coming off because you’re just hoping not to choke on the tension suffocating the room. You wonder if he feels it too, or if it’s all in your head.

He nods, and you look to your laptop in a futile attempt to thwart the dread suddenly pooling in your stomach. You’re reminded of what you’ve done when he crosses his arms, and your eyes are drawn to the same bicep on the arm that he used to pleasure himself. You’re picturing how it looks under his uniform, comparing it to your filthy reference. Your heart quickens and you can’t help but take in his build, even from across the long lab table. You feel extra small sitting on your stool while he stands, arms still crossed, staring.

The air between you two is definitely weird. Him getting off to probably-not-you and you watching but him not knowing that you know will certainly fill the room with a tension unlike any other.

These drawn-out silences are smothering you, not knowing what goes on being his hood.

He looks disappointed in you.

He knows.

“How can I help you in the meantime?”

You can’t help but breathe a small sigh of relief. You were planning on taking him back out to shoot house, running a few more simulations, and having him give feedback on a few more overlays.

You scrap that plan, looking forward to expanding on his ideas while your synapses are still firing.

“Well, here’s my thoughts so far. Landmine identification, the coding for that will be easy. The device already has the scanning capability for obscured objects. All I have to do is enable the specific object for full-time recognition. The hard part will be testing. I’ll have to meet with weapons development to develop prop landmines for simulation.”

You glance at the notes on your laptop, “Voice control - easy. Mic’s already installed and all I would have to do is add speech-to-text recognition, repurpose the wrist control coding, and then…testing.” Your hand finds the side of your face as you think it over, “Well, I may need to sample voice lines from you and a couple of your friends…” You loosely gesture with the same hand as you continue, “But there may be workarounds to that. Put a pin in that.” You’re on a roll now, “Now the hand controls - that might be more complicated. I’m thinking I’ll have to start fresh with the hardware.” You look up, “Then again… it already has the scanning capacity. I could probably just teach the current model with software alone. But the coding will take some time to figure out.”

Your eyes find him again. He’s staring and as per usual you can’t decipher it.

“Y’know,” you continue with a smile, “You could help me come up with hand signals?”

He nods.

He doesn’t give you much to work with, does he?

“I’ll need references of your hands. To teach the AI, is that okay?”

He looks down in a way that makes you feel so, so ashamed. If he is hesitant about recordings of just his gloved hands, how would he feel if he found out about what you did? About the video living on your phone?

After a moment he looks back up at you, “I’ll do it.” His voice is stern as usual, always treating everything with importance, with determination.

You give him another shaky smile, “Might be awhile. Wanna sit?”

He pulls up a stool to his end of the table and you instruct him to put his earpiece on as you return to your software on the laptop, trying not to trigger the memory of the last time you watched his feed. You pretend to resync your devices, glad he can’t see your screen. A wave of shame washes over you.

You’re both collaborating for some time, you offering a prompt and him stiffly coming up with a corresponding hand command. You supervise his feed, having him tilt his hands so the AI has references from multiple angles.

The rest of the meeting is professional and you manage to steady your obsessive thoughts as best you can. It’s hard to observe his hands and not think about the video, about what you watched those same hands do.

About how those hands would feel mapping all of the curves of your body.

How they would feel gripping onto your hips as you rode him.

How they would feel sneaking up your thighs, teasing you.

Somehow, you make it.

Once you decide you’ve covered enough references, Konig heads out, and you hope to continue staving off your thoughts by wasting no time on incorporating his ideas into your design. You’re hoping to have a least one rough draft done before next week’s meeting, so you plan on hunkering down and forfeit your Friday night to work overtime.

—————————————————————-

It’s late in the evening, you can tell by how your eyes are burning, strained from staring at your bright screen. You don’t bother to check the actual time. It would just bum you out. Spending your Friday night working. Not that you would have been doing anything partially exciting if you hadn’t. You probably would have just spent your evening analyzing footage anyway, just of a more perverted genre.

When you finally call it quits, the base is barren. Everyone’s gone home or retired to their quarters by now. It’s quiet after the base door shuts behind you, automatic locks clicking into place.

You’re feeling better after today’s meeting with Konig. Somewhere in the previous week you’d convinced yourself that he knew, that at any moment he was going to report you, and at any moment security would bust in the lab to escort you out.

Seeing him again, even though you couldn’t always figure out what he was thinking, reassured you that he hadn’t somehow telepathically figured out your terrible deed. You don’t think he would have bothered to keep helping you, or even be able to look at you without disgust if he did know.

The meeting also re-sparked your feelings of arousal and excitement. The knot in your lower abdomen made its presence known again. So much more desirable than the spiraling guilt. You’ve come to lean into the highs, enjoying it while you can, knowing soon you’ll be feeling nauseous at the thought of yourself.

You don’t know how much longer you can take the rollercoaster. This week has been exhausting. You can’t believe you’ve allowed this man to root himself into your life, seeping into every facet.

Career, personal, sexual, and - well, you’re still in denial about the romantic feelings - but it’s incredibly impressive how this man was capable of fucking your entire life up for the small price of a couple of hours and a few exchanged words.

When you finally get to the privacy of your home, you let out an audible groan. Loud enough to carry but quiet enough to not disturb the neighbors. You just needed to let something out, it was getting frustrating.

You didn’t want to think anymore, you didn’t want to think!

“Long day at work?”

You freeze, and the sound of heavy footsteps fill your ears. Two armed soldiers with fully equipped gear stride from the depth of your home, meeting you at the entrance.

The sight of them alone is enough to intimidate you. You instinctively back against the locked door, your trunk obscuring a hand moving towards the doorknob.

“Tsk, tsk. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”The taller of the two soldiers wears a black balaclava with a skull stitched in, his unimpressed stare drilling into you. You hear a click, and your wide eyes lock on to the gun in his hands, pointing right at your core.

You slowly release the doorknob, raising your shaking hands so they could see your palms.

“That’s good babe,” The other soldier speaks, but you’re too busy staring down the barrel of the gun to worry about it.

“I have to admit I’m a little upset with you,” Skull-face, as you appropriately nicknamed him, speaks as his eyes bore into you, “You kept us waiting a long time.”

He’s got some sort of thick accent laced into his grave voice, they both do, actually, but you’re too busy trying not to piss your pants to be able to place the region of origin.

A lump forms in your throat and you don’t think you‘ve taken a breath since you heard the unfamiliar voice in your home.

It’s violating. Them being here. Where you go after a long day of work to relax. Where you eat, sleep, shower, and just be.

How dare they defile and taint your safe place, where you hide away and pretend the exhausting world around you doesn’t exist?

You’re stuck, unsure of your next move and paralyzed with fear.

“We think you have something we want.”

You’re not sure what they mean, but you nod in compliance anyway. Not much you can say no to against two heavily armed men. You finally break your gaze away from the gun and take turns making frightful eye contact with them. You speak after a failed attempt of swallowing your fear, voice soft and broken, “Take it.”

They exchange a knowing glance with each other, the man with his face exposed bears an irritatingly smug grin.

Skull-face approaches you threateningly, sending fear down your spine and making your skin crawl as you push yourself further into the door. He leaves no room for pleas as he flips his gun around, the stock coming down on your forehead with enough force to knock you out cold.

————————————————————-

Your splitting headache was the first thing you registered when you came to. You can’t seem to concentrate, the fog in your brain so extreme your thoughts are incoherent. You let out a meek whimper as you attempt to open your eyes, the lights in the room stunning you and intensifying the throbbing pain in your skull. You wince, closing your eyes again to block it out.

A few moments pass - and the next thing you notice is the dryness in your mouth, unable to manage a swallow from the dehydration.

Water.

The only intelligible thought you’ve had after registering your discomfort, the instinctual desire stronger than the dizzy haze clouding your brain.

You lift your head, trying to move but your weakened muscles fail you.

Your muscles are weak, yes, but what’s really keeping you in place are the restraints.

You wince again, eyes scrunched to block out the brutal light as you tug to confirm you’re secured. Your wrists were bound behind you, your shoulders overextending around the back of the chair you were planted on. Your ankles bound to either leg of the chair. There’s another restraint wrapping under your arms and around the back of the chair, keeping your upper half upright. There’s a rashy burn underneath the coarse ropes that dug into your skin as your unconscious body leaned into it.

You let out another whimper from the back of your coarse throat. While you weren’t alert, every instinct within you notified you of the danger you were in.

Gotta move.

You try to squint one eye, but it still doesn’t save you from the flash intensity of your headache. Your eyes are stinging on top of it and you realize you’re partially blinded, vision blurred and doubled, stained red with your own blood.

You grit your teach, determined to figure out where you are. You try to concentrate your vision but to no avail.

Even so, you can tell you’re not at home, and you’re not on base.

Once you make your discovery, one that expended what little willpower you had, your eyes clench back shut, desperate to alleviate the migraine.

A secondary location, you thought to yourself through the pain, I’m fucked.

You can’t hear anything, the ringing in your ears deafening you.

You let out one more defeated whine before resting your chin on your chest, pinching your eyes closed.

You have no idea how long you drift in and out of consciousness for. During the brief moments you come to, you’re so disoriented you can’t make sense of your thoughts, and that coupled with the debilitating pain in your head is unnerving enough to make you cry tears of pure confusion.

It’s your neck snapping back to follow the hair yanking on your scalp that jolts you awake, and try to open your eyes to find the threat but they’re still not working as they should. Underneath the debilitating ringing, you can hear the sound of muffled male voices, unable to make out what they’re saying.

You gave up.

You were wounded & trapped, and in nature that meant a death sentence. You were in no shape to properly defend yourself. Couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t move, couldn’t think.

You were as done as the toast made from your own designs.

After wincing, your eyes screwed shut, you go limp and give in to the man physically controlling you like a sadistic puppeteer.

The muffled voices are louder, you still can’t make out their words but you can tell they’re having some sort of argument. They’re yelling at each other, and your scalp becomes collateral as the one tightens his grip on your hair to match his escalated volume

He’s right in your ear now and it’s not helping with the headache.

Just hurry it up, You manage through the haze, just hurry it up and put me out of my misery.

He throws your head forward to the position it was in before, slumped over as much as the ropes would allow with your chin pointed to the ground. The force rattles your skull in a way that makes you see a searing white behind your eyelids. What little water you had left in you was escaping through your swollen eyes lids and down tear-stained cheeks.

Just kill me, please.

——————————————————-

When you come to again, you’re no longer sitting. You’re flat on your back. Your neck secured so your head is in line with your spine. Your headache takes the front stage but the pain has noticeably subsided. You try to open your eyes again, but the lights above you are still excruciating.

You let out a low moan and shut your eyes again.

Your ears still ring, but a good portion of your hearing has returned to you. You hear your name, followed by, “are you awake?”

You grunt in response, unable to form sentences.

“Can you open your eyes for me?”

You wince, trying to shake your head but unable. Instead, you grunt again before parting your lips. You tried to say, “Lights,” but your voice is so hoarse it comes out broken and cracked.

“What is it?”

You try and clear your throat, putting all your power into your strained voice, “Lights.”

They understand, and while you still can’t hear the flick of the switch, you can tell from behind your eyelids they’ve been shut off.

You try to mutter a “Thank you,” but give up a quarter of the way through.

You slowly open your eyes, still burning but blood wiped away from them. Your vision is still blurry, but no longer doubled.

“Do you remember what happened?”

You try to shake your head, but can’t. So you force a weak, “No.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“No.”

“Do you know what today’s date is?”

You just grunt, closing your eyes again. You didn’t know the answer but you were too fed up with the questions to respond.

“Can you see?”

You grunt again.

“Okay, how ‘bout this? Can you wiggle your fingers for me?”

You try to lift your arm in the direction of the voice but your action is cut short, your arm jerked still by a restraint on your wrist. You open and close your fingers slowly at the maximum range the restraint will allow.

“How ‘bout your toes?”

Your toes move slightly, your calves aching at even such a mild movement.

“Good, thank you. How’s the hearing?”

Kill me or leave me alone, you think.

You eventually freeze the owner of voice out, finally leaving you alone to rest.

The next few days are a miserable, confusing blur. Somewhere along the way you’re informed you’re in medical, being treated for your extreme concussion. No skull fracture, thankfully, but they suspect the bruising is severe if it was enough to knock you unconscious.

The concussion had scrambled you good, and you were not nearly as sharp as you usually are.

It took you a whole five days, not that you could keep track of the passing time, before you realized that you were not at medical on your base.

You were in medical, restrained to a hospital bed-

in enemy care.

————————————————————

There was nothing you could do. Restrained to your bed, sedated with painkillers when they thought you were becoming too active.

“To help you rest.” They told you, but you couldn't trust a word that came out of their mouths.

Medics are supposed to be neutral, bound to an ethical code to heal the injured, enemy or not. That didn’t stop some medics from harboring grudges after years of patching up their own soldier’s brutal wounds of war.

The next time the medicine wears off for a long amount of time, with no medics in sight, you conveniently get visitors, the soldiers that had visited you in your home.

The events had been beaten out of you, but the traumatic event had seeped somewhere deeper into your psyche, and you knew deep down you were in trouble at the mere sight of them.

Skull-face especially, you don’t know how or why, but your intuition tells you he’s responsible for this. “Ready to answer some questions? Or do you need me to put you back to sleep?”

You can tell by the sharp edge in his voice he doesn’t mean the painkillers.

“Maybe I’d be able to answer your questions if you hadn’t given me brain damage.” Your patience is running thin, and an ember ignites a flame inside you, “Who knows what information you knocked out of me.” You stare directly into his eyes, brows furrowed, the tone of your voice inviting trouble in.

He already took everything away from you. At this point you don’t care if he puts you under. You’re begging him too. Every time you wake up you just want to go back to sleep. You don’t want to deal with it, any of it.

Skull-face makes a move to advance but the maskless soldier stops him by putting an arm out, laying it firmly across his to hold him back.

You don’t flinch, eyes now staring down the soldier with a stubbled jaw and a mohawk that ended in a widow's peak. It’s a haircut you find highly unusual for a soldier.

Your face doesn’t crack, but you squint at the pair, “What do you even want to know? I don’t even work on the field, I have no information.”

Skull-face looks down at you, “Oh, we know.” That stupid accent and that stupid mask. If you weren’t restrained you think you would have launched at him, risking it all to get a few good scratches in with your fingernails. He reaches into his pocket and your eyes widen and your brows retract at what he pulls out.

Not a weapon, no.

It’s your design, the AI-powered earpiece, and your wrist remote.

Skull-face notices the realization that sets across your face, “Awh, looks like your memory is working fine after all.”

The flame inside you laps at your skin, your features flushing with anger. A lot at Skull-face, for being such a cocky prick, but mostly at yourself.

You did this yourself. You figured your day of reckoning would come eventually. That karma would bite you in the ass, and those who are affected by your designs will stand by and laugh at your demise.

You should have just stuck with redesigning kitchen appliances.

“Why don’t you show us what you’ve been cooking up, huh? We know you’ve been busy.”

The pair share another knowing glance, Mohawk snickering at your expense.

“How did you get that?” You ask through gritted teeth, knowing there’s no way they could have gotten into the highly secured base.

“What is it?” Skull-face asks.

“It’s an intercom.” You grit, the ache in your head pulsing. You miss the painkillers.

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.”

Mohawk steps in, “It’s okay, we all get embarrassed about our porn.”

You furrow your brows at him.

What the hell was he talking about?

Skull-face elbows him in the side, but it doesn’t keep his partner from smiling, “What is it?” He asks again.

“It’s an intercom.”

He’s getting sick of this game and he goes to step to you again but Mohawk cuts him short. “Ghost!” He says firmly.

Ghost, that was Skull-faces name. Or call sign, at least. You hated him, but you’d wished the other soldier would just let him at you. You didn’t care anymore.

Mohawk looks at you, “Look, there’s only so much I can do,” gesturing to Ghost, “Can’t we all just get along for a little bit, yeah?”

“How about you get along with deez nuts.” You laugh at your dumb joke, a laugh influenced by the daze of concussion and painkillers. You’re in hysteria, the laugh spills out and doesn’t let up. A release of built-up stress and frustration and anger that seeped out uncontrollably. Cackling at yourself for ending up in this situation. Only you would be capable of such hijinks. The laugh leaves you out of breath and with eyes full of tears. You don’t even care how it exacerbates the headache, or how you’re coming off as insane. It feels too good to let out the pent-up emotions, one way or another.

Your elation is cut short with a squeak as a gloved hand cuts harshly into your trachea. Ghost squeezes, roughly lifting you by the neck before shoving you back down on the hospital bed, his grip tighter than before. His voice is low and filled with caution, “I am getting sick of you.”

If you could breathe enough to talk, you’d tell him the feeling’s mutual. Instead you gag and sputter, which he takes as a sign that you are still getting air, and forces more of his weight onto your neck.

Your hands fail to defend yourself, the restraints holding you from fighting back. You’re getting close to blacking out, your laugh having already knock most of the wind out of you, but Mohawk pulls Ghost off of you, his hands firm on Ghost’s shoulders, “Stop! Stop.”

You involuntarily gasp, desperate for air, trying not to choke on your own spit. For a moment all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, flowing desperately to replace what Ghost restricted.

“Come on, last try.” He warns, and you can tell in your voice he means it.

You eye him carefully, still heaving for air. When you collect yourself, you speak, “I’ll show you.” You say, voice weak and breathy. You try to hold out your hand, but get stopped by the restraints.

Mohawk glances at Ghost, but Ghost keeps his stern eyes trained on you. He stays still for a moment, studying you with his arms crossed.

You roll your eyes, your chest still huffing as you reclaim your air, “Don’t trust me? Fine. I’ll walk you through it. Put the fucking bracelet on.”

He stares for another moment before taking the device from Mohawk. Must of handed it off so he could strangle you better.

He puts it on his wrist.

“Now tap the top.”

He follows your instructions, the wrist remote’s projection displaying above his wrist.

“Go ahead and open your settings.” You guide him through it, activating a few select overlays. “You got it. Now put the earpiece on.”

Ghost hesitates, looking over to his companion before he slowly reaches up underneath his balaclava, attaching the earpiece.

“Yep, and while you’re in there, go ahead and hit the button on the base.”

You watch as your design activates, displaying the transparent overlay over his eyes. He’s taken aback, unnerved by the unidentified design being so close to his vulnerable eyes.

“Ta-da!” You say sarcastically, showing off the full range of the restraints as you offer weak jazz hands. “So I’ve given you some information. Maybe you can give me a little information, yeah?”

He doesn’t say anything as he removes his hand from his mask.

“Where am I?” You ask.

“You know where you are.”

“How’d you find me?”

“We tracked your cell phone.”

You squint, “Why were you tracking my phone?” It doesn’t make any sense, there’s no way they would have been able to pin your cell phone information back to base. You don’t use it for work and there’s no way you had connected to the private Wi-Fi. It’s apples and oranges, you think.

Mohawk steps in front of Ghost and holds out his phone in your direction. It takes a moment for the image to come into view, your vision still impaired. When your eyes adjust, the screen shows you something that makes your blood turn cold.

It’s the video of Konig jerking off.

“Okay! Okay.” You wave your hands, “Just put that away, I get it.”

When you connected your phone to your software to transfer the recording of Konig, it briefly connected to your laptop.

Base internet has state-of-the-art firewalls and encryptions to prevent surveillance, hack-in, key logs.

Cell phones do not.

So they’ve been tracking you all week, and who knows what kind of information they were able to pull from your software? From your laptop, containing dozens of government secrets?

No, you think, they wouldn’t be going through the trouble of keeping me alive if they had the information on my laptop.

“What’s the matter? Embarrassed that gettin’ your rocks off caused a security breach in confidential information regarding warfare development?” Mohawk mocks.

Well, yes you were, now that he mentions it. You’re actually very worried your perverted little stunt will somehow end up forever immortalized in history books.

In the moment, though, your main concern was making sure that Konig wouldn’t find out, as you had started transmitting the device’s feed to him as soon as Ghost turned the earpiece on.

Part Three

#könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x you #konig x reader #call of duty #fic #smut #konig fic #modern warefare ii #konig #konig call of duty #könig call of duty #könig #konig modern warfare #konig mw2 #experimental #x reader #uhohwriting

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frogchiro · 9 months

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did you see that warren cole posted his motorcycle on his instagram?! it's given me some maaaaaaajor thoughts about biker graves, maybe even in a modern cowboy/rancher au? like imagine him taking you on rides through the desert and he's so distracted by your chest pressed against his back and your legs spread behind him that he runs out of gas because he just drives so far and him and reader just end up in the middle of nowhere... they end up doing a walk of shame to some dusty ass motel and have tired lazy sex PAHAHAHAHAHAHA (i love you, and your writing. i always will! sending infinite love! <3)

YES I SAW IT AND HHRRNNNN the way that I need that man is astronomical, like, interstellar level

I think I'm gonna go with a...dad's best friend/neighbour Graves scenario for this one since I need a dilf to just take me away ;;

Imagine Graves coming to your dad one day to show him his new motorcycle and oh he just so happened to mention that he takes his new baby for a ride into the vast Texas desert for a day or two, do a lil sightseeing and stuff like that and your dad would be so thrilled!

Being none the wiser, your poor old dad asked his old military buddy if he maybe could take you with him if it wouldn't be too much of a hassle. He said that while he appreciated you being a good student and generally a very calm and mild mannered girl, he thought that you'd need something...more adventurous to do during your summer holiday from collage and Philip being his trusted friend is the perfect person to do that! He trusted him with his life on the battlefield many years ago and now he will trust the blonde man with his daughter :)

Little did your dad know is that it's exactly what both you and Philip were hoping for, literally the perfect opportunity. You and your handsome older neighbour were in a,, let's say secret relationship, at least for the time being and every little sliver of time together was precious ;;

And so you quickly packed the few things you could, climbed onto the bike and off you two went, on a nice, relaxing trip, just the two of you until it didn't end up as relaxing as you though it'd be ;;

As much as Philip prides himself to be a man of iron self control with you it just slips away way too easy, but its one of those things he adores about you, how easy and young he feels when he's with you. Unfortunately this time it didn't come as handy as usual. You weren't supposed to travel too far, just around 100km, stay at a motel for a night or two, have some passionate intimate moments just between two lovers and then right back to put you back into your pa's arms with a pat on the head and call you a 'good kid' but as usual, everything went wrong.

As shameful as it is Philip got a little...distracted. The distraction being the feeling of your warm, soft body and the feeling of your pillowy boobs pressed tightly against his leather jacket clad back and he might have happened to drive a bit too fast for a bit too long and drove straight by the motel you were going to stay, with you not paying attention either being distracted too by all the pretty sights and Phil's cologne and musk :((

All was good and cool until the bike started to rumble and slow down into a dead stop. You drove too far for too long, you're out of gas and it's getting dark. Perfect.

You'd lie if you said you weren't at least a bit scared, after all you were literally in dead nowhere with the nearest town being at least 120km away, it was getting cold due to night approaching and Philip was cussing like a sailor trying to reach a towing company but to no avail, it was late already and no one would help you until tomorrow morning. As much as Graves was pissed off he vaguely knew the area having gone on bike drives here a while ago and he could remember there being a motel not too far away, maybe a 15 minute walk. Sure it was a dingy backwater hole with a shady looking old man behind the counter but better that than staying out here for the night right? Plus he could see that you were getting scared and so began the trek to the motel with you helping him pull his bike along the road.

After finally getting there, your fingers stiff from cold and from pulling the heavy machine you thanked all of the gods above and almost cried with relief and happiness when you saw the old blinking light of the sign of the motel. You didn't even care that it looked like the shadiest place on earth, all you wanted to do was to take a shower with Phil and jump straight into bed but,, it looked like the blonde male had other ideas ;;

What ensued was instead of you going right to bed and sleeping this eventful day off, way some sleepy, lazy and absolutely tired love making and it was the best you and Phil ever had <3

The way the older man was barely moving above you, your tired and sore bodies pressed together as close as can be with Philip thrusting his strong hips against you gently, his hot throbbing cock a warm and comforting weight inside you, right up against your cervix but not with the usual rough, fast pace but just resting there, taking in each others warmth in the otherwise cold motel room<3

Your breaths mingled hotly with each other as you lazily kissed before Philip returned his head back into the crook of your neck and started lazily making out with the sensitive skin, his hips barely moving at this point but it was the warmest and most comforting feeling you could ask for.

Tomorrow Philip would fill the gas tank in his beloved bike up to the brim so you could safely and uneventfully return to the motel you were initially going to spend your time but honestly? If someone were to ask you you'd say that this was the more or less perfect romantic getaway <3

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #this is so fucken shitty #i was so sleepy while writing this so i'm sorry if it's badly written ;;#cod x reader #cod mw x reader #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #philip graves

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loser-brain · 1 year

Text

Did you know if you go into your settings -> go to Dashboard -> and flip the switch to show timestamps, you can see the date of the post?

I'm bringing this up because an old post from February 2022 of mine about the Earn It Act bill was getting popular again. Apparently, the Bill came back again in April 2023 (It's still getting decided by the House Judiciary Committee).

Lindsey Graham will keep reintroducing this bill. He already has plans on reintroducing it in 2024.

Here is a Wiki Page on the Earn It Act bill in case you have no idea what it is

But to summarize what the Earn It Act bill is. It's disguised as a bill to "protect the children." When in reality it's a bill to have more monitoring and control. Especially to groups such as LGBTQ+, Sex Workers, and Protesters.

The Bill also wants to include a "Backdoor."

A Backdoor is something that even Homeland Security is highly against. It's for "easier" access to your internet system such as your device.

The reason Homeland Security is so against this idea is because it's like having a firewall that is supposed to protect you from the outside, keeping all the stuff that could cause us harm out... only to have a backdoor with a welcome mat attached to it. So like, what is the point of having a firewall protection if you are just going to install a door that is easy for anyone to come and go as they, please.

Here is the bill that will be active again in 2024 since it died in committee this year. Lindsey Graham will keep reintroducing this bill for who knows how long. So be prepared for it.

Edit: It did not die! That is my bad! I was very exhausted and didn't do my fourth reread on it. But tomorrow will be decision day and we will see if the bill died. If it did then we will have to be prepare when Lindsey Graham reintroduce it again in 2024.

Sign the No Earn It Act to tell your Senators now!!

Here is another place to find your Rep and tell them to Stop the Earn It Act!!

A short Article about the Earn It Act and when decision day will happen (Tomorrow May 4th, 2023)

Confirmation when decision day will happen

Spread it like wild fire!! WE CANNOT ALLOW OUR INTERNET BE TAKEN FROM US BY FREAKS HIDING BEHIND THE WORDS "PROTECTS THE CHILDREN" WHEN IN FACT THEY ARE ENDANGERING THEM BY TRYING TO MAKE THIS BILL PASS!!

#earn it act #politics #earn it bill #us politics #protect children #lgbtqplus #lgbt #lgbtq community #sex worker #protesters #I'M SCREAMING FROM THE BACK I'M SO SORRY FOR SPREADING MISINFO THE FIRST TIME #I WAS VERY SLEEPY AND WAS RUSHING TO MAKE AN UPDATED POST ABOUT THE EARN IT ACT BILL #I HOPE THIS IS ENOUGH!!#TOMORROW IS GOING TO BE A NERVE WREAKING TIME

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pleaseeeimjustagirl · 5 months

Text

♡Weekly Chronicles♡

December 15,2023

Hey babes! This week was amazing I am so happy I have created this blog I love being a blogger. I've wanted to create one for yearssss but I never got the time to do it and didn't know what to base my blog on. I love seeing other girlies on the same journey of self-improvement<3.

♡Education♡

The semester is officially over for me on Saturday I am so excited I need this break because school in general can be so stressful and I need this time to relax and pour into myself more I'll probably be uploading here more frequently while on break.

♡Mental♡

I started antidepressants a little over a month ago and have been loving my journey on them my mind is clearer and I don't feel that little gray cloud following me anymore. I am present and not constantly worrying about others and things that I can't control. This is my first time using medication to finally have control over my mental health. Other than that my mental health has been so good. If you deal with seasonal depression you got this girl it's tough. Trust me I get it I've dealt with seasonal depression and anxiety for years and my inbox is always open for a chat but I ask before you tell me your problems ask how I'm feeling in the moment <3

♡Physical♡

I have been super consistent with my diet! Eating clean and working out every day I have been lifting 3 times a week. I didn't get to lift today because I am currently at work while typing this lol but I will make up for it by lifting tomorrow. I am currently fasting trying to make up fasts from Ramadan before Ramadan comes around again in March and I'm not going to lieeee it has been helping me look extra snatched now! Like I woke up looking in the mirror like yesss but fasting has so many benefits besides keeping you snatched it helps a lot internally as well. I recently ordered some items for my gut health journey and it's at the post office so I'm going to pick it up tomorrow super excited! This is unrelated but last night I didn't want to get out of bed to do my nightly skincare routine but I forced myself to remember my goals so I'm proud of that.

♡Hobbies♡

I have been consistent with my Italian lessons on Duolingo which I highlyyyy recommend for anyone trying to learn a new language the way its set up is perfect for me with the colors and drawing it feels like a game to me lol. I haven't been reading like I was supposed to I think I only read 2 times this week that’s super baddd I need to stay on top of it. I have been blogging consistently and I love seeing you girlies reflagging and hearting my content it means a lot and I def need to do a Q&A I’ll drop one next week for sure. I want to invest in soap making as a new hobby for me it looks like so much fun!

♡Plans For The Weekend♡

I have a trip coming up next week I'm going to Maryland for a convention with a couple of friends from the 23 to the 27. I am super excited it's going to be so much fun. So this weekend I'm getting a lot of things together. I have to look for a few of my outfits for my trip and I'm waiting for my shoes to come. Also, I have my final this Saturday and an appointment with my OBGYN ladies don’t forget to book appointments for your check-ups your inner health is super important please take care of yourselves!

This was this week's little journal entrieee not that much occurs in my life but I still love the little update I gave you ladiesss. Comment your plans this weekend and how did your week go?

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liaromancewriter · 1 year

Text

Breaking News

Premise: Cassie interviews Ethan about a special project.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,890

A/N: This fic was requested by @trappedinfanfiction from @creativepromptsforwriting Meet Cute list (prompt 27). Tagging for reblog to @creativepromptfills. I'm using @choicesflashfics week 27, prompt 3 (in bold). Submission for @aprilchallenge prompt "kiss"

Cassie Valentine stood at the back of the recording studio and watched a team of technicians assemble a makeshift set for her interview with Edenbrook’s Chief of Medicine. It had taken weeks of coaxing for the man to agree, and she would make every minute count.

While she waited to be called, she ran through the stack of notecards in her hand. The questions prepared weren’t complicated, but her subject was cagey. Getting her guest to open up and obtain usable footage would take all her skills.

“We’re ready for you now, Dr. Valentine.”

Cassie looked up at Amalia Kallis from Edenbrook’s communication department holding a lapel microphone and transmitter. The intern from last year was now a full-time member of the team and one of a handful of people Ethan didn’t object to working with.

Amalia helped Cassie put on the lapel microphone and adjusted the cable to the transmitter, which she clipped to the waistband of her skirt. She pulled on her blazer, hiding the wires below the thick fabric, and sound-checked the microphone until the audio-visual team gave the all-clear.

“Thanks so much for doing this, Dr. Valentine,” Amalia said. “Especially so last minute.”

“I’m happy to help,” Cassie said, smiling at the gratitude on the other woman’s face. “I know how hard it was to get Dr. Ramsey to agree.”

In her role as head of community engagement, Kyra Santana was supposed to interview Ethan about expanding the community clinic for the hospital’s social media channels and donor newsletter. But she’d sprained her ankle on the way to work this morning. Rather than postpone or cancel, she had begged Cassie to take her place.

The clinic was important to Ethan—it embodied Naveen’s mission—but he had no patience for the pomp and circumstance associated with promoting it. It was a knee-jerk reaction rather than nerves. Cassie knew Ethan wasn’t a novice when it came to media.

She followed Amalia to the set, consisting of two soft armchairs in front of an Edenbrook-branded backdrop. Cassie listened to the team’s instructions, adjusted her posture when they said the light was shading her face, and sent a silent prayer of thanks that she didn’t have to do this every day.

When the door to the studio swung inward, she wanted to laugh at the irritable expression on Ethan’s face.

Earlier this morning, they’d made a bet that he wouldn’t last a day without making a single snide comment. He had vehemently disagreed, citing his infamous self-control. Looks like she was about to win.

“Alright, let’s get this dog and pony show over with,” he said impatiently, his long strides stopping mid-step when he saw Cassie.

“I don’t know if I want to know the answer, but what are you doing?” he asked suspiciously, joining her on the set. “And where’s Kyra?”

“Long story, Dr. Ramsey,” Cassie replied, waving one hand dismissively. “Get mic’d up, grab a seat and save the questions for later. After all, you want to ‘get this over with,’ don’t you?”

She put the last in air quotes, her eyes swimming with laughter. To everyone’s surprise, Ethan chuckled instead.

“I was being an ass, wasn’t I?”

Cassie nodded, unable to control the smile curving her lips. “And it hasn’t even been,” she checked her wristwatch, “four hours. Better clear your schedule, Dr. Ramsey. You’re covering my shift at the community clinic tomorrow. And it’s a long one.”

He harrumphed at the glee in her voice and started to roll his eyes. He stopped when he noticed the other people in the room watching them, their faces a mix of curiosity, interest and surprise.

Poor Ethan, thought Cassie, not feeling sorry at all. His reputation as a severe and demanding chief would never be the same again.

Five minutes later, they were seated across from each other and ready to begin recording. Cassie closed her eyes, took a deep breath and counted to three. She still followed the advice given by a patient during her intern year. It helped center her and clarify her focus.

She started with some light questions, easing Ethan into the interview. The team might decide to edit those out later, but she wasn’t concerned about their process. Once she saw him begin to relax, she went for the substance.

“Dr. Ramsey, why should people care about Edenbrook’s community clinic? After all, Boston is home to almost fifty hospitals and community health centers. They have options.”

“Bostonians do have choices,” he began slowly. “Our city ranks first in hospital beds per capita and other such measures nationwide. We also have the lowest percentage of uninsured patients.”

He paused to reflect before continuing. “But that doesn’t mean everyone has access to affordable healthcare.” He emphasized the last point. “Our most vulnerable populations are disadvantaged because of the increasing corporatization of medicine, which can be at odds with a patient-centered healthcare system.”

Cassie’s brows furrowed at his answer. This was supposed to be a fluffy video to make donors feel good, but Ethan clearly wasn’t following the script. She caught Amalia’s panicked look over his shoulder as the young woman scanned the prepared speaking notes.

“Many of them can’t afford to take time off work to visit a doctor, provided they can find one,” he said, unconcerned about the havoc he was causing. “Non-emergent conditions become emergent with delay. This lands them in the emergency department, increasing wait times all around and resulting in higher treatment costs because a simple cut became infected and now requires specialist treatment.”

Cassie saw the challenge glittering in Ethan’s blue eyes and knew he’d done this on purpose. If this is where their illustrious chief wanted to take it, so be it.

“But hospitals need to make money in order to stay afloat,” Cassie countered. “We need funding to afford the best doctors and the most advanced HealthTech to better treat our patients. Are you saying that’s wrong?”

Ethan sighed. “Not wrong, but perhaps a narrow view of what medicine should be.” He steepled his fingers. “All the best diagnostic technology cannot replace an essential skill any physician should have. Listening and watching. Patients often don’t know or understand what’s relevant. Even the smallest detail can be the key to unlocking the right diagnosis.”

Cassie gripped the notecards tight to prevent herself from launching at Ethan and kissing his breath away. She loved how animated his face became when discussing putting patients first. His example had formed her own worldview and approach to medicine.

But she had a job to do. Deciding to take pity on Amalia, Cassie turned the conversation back to the main topic.

“How will Edenbrook’s community clinic expansion help those vulnerable populations?”

Ethan must have read the warning in her green eyes to stay on topic. He smirked before schooling his features into a neutral expression.

“Thanks to the generosity of our donors, the expanded community clinic will be able to treat more patients. We are also adding clinic hour rotations to the intern year of most of our residency programs. This will increase the number of doctors available and reduce wait times for patients so they don’t have to delay treatment.”

Cassie asked two more questions from the list given to her, sighing in relief when Ethan didn’t go off-script, and then thanked him before signing off. The camera’s red light blinked off, and the team gave the all-clear.

“You’re gonna be in so much trouble, babe,” Cassie teased, removing the transmitter and lapel mic and handing it to the technician.

Ethan shrugged. “The board knew what they were getting when they agreed to my appointment.”

He smiled when Amalia walked up to them. “Well? Do you think you have enough footage?”

“Absolutely, Dr. Ramsey,” Amalia confirmed. Her voice rose in excitement, and her eyes turned shrewd. “I think we can use the middle section to pitch stories to the national media, maybe even a talk show or two. Position you as a thought leader on how to put patient care at the heart of medicine.”

Cassie burst into laughter when Ethan groaned. He really should have known better. PR people were like a sponge when it came to telling stories. And he’d just gone off half-cocked on the meatiest one of them all.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Amalia,” Cassie piped in, winking at Ethan as he swiveled his head to stare at her in consternation. “Dr. Ramsey barely scratched the surface of this critical topic. There’s so much more that needs to be done. Especially if we’re going to lead the way on affordable healthcare in this country.”

Cassie realized she might have gone too far when she saw the calculating look in Ethan’s eyes.

“You’re absolutely right,” he said, nodding sagely.

Cassie immediately became suspicious of his conciliatory tone.

“Amalia, did you know that Dr. Valentine has been invited to serve on the governor’s special committee to study healthcare reform in our state?” he said.

He straightened his white coat and stepped back. “Between that and her work on the diagnostics team, she would make an excellent spokesperson for the hospital. You’ve already seen how comfortable she is in front of the camera. I’ll leave you two to discuss the details.”

Ethan exited the studio before Cassie had a chance to react. She realized her mouth was hanging open at being checkmated and promptly shut it.

Amalia watched her like it was Christmas morning and Cassie the present she’d been waiting for from Santa. Luckily, the shrill sound of her pager interrupted just in time, and Cassie promptly escaped.

Once outside, she marched down the hallway, muttering under her breath, eyes narrowing as she planned retaliation. She yelped when someone grabbed her hand and pulled her into a supply closet, the door slamming shut behind her.

Her eyes adjusted to the low light, and her frown turned into a smile when she saw who it was.

Ethan gripped her elbows and pushed her against the wall next to the door. His mouth covered hers in a fiery kiss, coaxing a response with his lips and tongue. Her arms circled his shoulders, and she pressed herself against him.

Lost in a haze of lust, her hands reached down to unbuckle his belt and undo the zipper. She cupped him through his pants and stroked up his length and back. Suddenly, he pulled back. She started to protest, but he placed one hand across her mouth.

He cocked his ear toward the door. Cassie heard muffled voices on the other side, likely Amalia and the technicians heading back to their workstations. They waited with bated breaths, sighing in relief as the team passed the supply closet door without incident, their conversation fading.

Cassie dropped her head on his chest, giggles breaking free at the near miss. He placed two fingers on her chin, lifting her face. And before she could say a word, he swooped down and kissed her laughter away.

“See you later, Dr. Valentine,” he whispered against her lips.

Cassie’s eyes snapped open at the smugness in his voice, followed by an arrogant chuckle as the door closed behind him.

Round one goes to you, Dr. Ramsey, thought Cassie as her competitiveness raised its head. But the next one would be hers. She wasn’t a Valentine for nothing.

--------------

All Fics & Edits: @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @takemyopenheart @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @hopelessromantic1352 @mrs-ramsey

#open heart #ethan ramsey #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #open heart fanfics #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #choices fanfiction #writers on tumblr #ethan ramsey x mc #choices fanfics #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine #short story

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1julak1 · 2 months

Text

Fortuitous pt. 1

Sanemi cosplayer x fem!reader

_____________________________

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: So, I'll be completely honest - I have no idea what i'm doing there and why. The idea just popped in my head - as something i'd like to do, haha - but then i thought of making a story out of it. So! I want to say - this is not a typical fanfiction with Sanemi, it's about reader with a cosplayer!

Enjoy!

Since her childhood years, YN has been always viewed as a normal, sweet, intelligent girl. Everybody, always, has been jealous of her knowledge, grades, judged her every move and pointed out smallest mistakes.

But yes, YN has always been a normal girl.

Going into her teenage years, she had plans - ambitions, big hopes for the future, aiming for college and a good middle school to get her ready info further life.

But when she actually got accepted into her new school, she didn't realise how much of a mistake it would actually be.

The first year was going quite well, nothing seemed to be foreshadowing the nightmare that her school days would become. But as YN's best friend - only true friend in class she had - changed schools. Gradually, YN has dropped her grades, and started closing up from others.

Going into second year, her life became an absolute nightmare. Scared of talking to people, teachers, ditching school, getting authorities over her head - it seemed like NOTHING was going well anymore.

Her cousin enraged her, also. She never had perfect relationship with her, but what made her most furious was their conversation weeks ago.

°°°

Why do you even want to switch schools?? With your attitude, you're always going to complain about anything. Everything's going to be the same whatever you do. <

YN gazed at the message, her mind flaring with anger.

The next messages her cousin sent were just self-centered yapping about how she struggled with her own work, her colleagues, her situation, her mood, her feelings - her, her, her, her. Not even once has she thought of YN's feelings. The fact she may not be in total control of the things going on in her life.

> Go fuck yourself

YN texted back, seething the same words trough her gritted teeth.

Since then, she understood that she doesn't want to have anything to do with that bitch.

°°°

YN was scrolling trough Instagram - once again ignoring the fact she should study - and noticed a quite pretty post. A cosplay of her favorite character.

Oh, right! Because there was an obsession YN had. It was Sanemi Shinazugawa - a character of her all time favorite anime.

- Fucking hot.. it would be lucky to have someone cosplay him for me.. -

She stared at the pic for a moment with a blank expression on her face. And then she blinked, because then it clicked.

Usually YN overthinked everything she did - but not this time. She texted the man without hesitation.

> I've got a deal for you???

And then she waited.

Regretted her decision.

Then waited, waited, waited.

It was agonizing, almost. The hope of the man texting back was slowly fading, replaced by a shame caused by her doing. She was so taken over by this revelation that she dreamed of it, until one day, finally, she woke up to a reply.

What kind of deal?? <

Oh now THAT was the moment for action.

Seeing he was active, she carefully chose a reply.

> I'll pay you to cosplay Sanemi for me

Oh now that's new. If you want a pic with me, i won't make you pay. I suppose you live nearby??? <

The girl's face heated up at his words. From embarrassment, but also because he would be willing to take a picture with her for free. But that wasn't what she wanted.

> No, i don't want a picture. I'll pay you, for pretending to be my boyfriend.

He read that. He's seen that.

Silence.

And do I get to be a lil touchy 😏 <

> I'll cut your salary in half

Worth it <

> Is that a yes??

Let's say so. Where do i meet you up, princess? <

> In front of my school tomorrow, 7.50. I'll send you the adress later

YN felt like she needed a cold shower to take that news. And so, she went to the bathroom and spend nearly an hour there, nearly dying from excitement.

Then it was time to tuck herself to bed, to the thoughts of having a.. new boyfriend???

°°°

The next day, YN was waiting for her "boyfriend" in front of the school. And just when she was about to give up to her anxiousness and get inside the building, somebody grabbed her by the hips and she was pulled against a firm chest.

- Hey, princess~! Not like i stalked your profile, but i did stalk your profile. You're looking even cuter in real life than those silly pictures -

- W-WHAT?!! -

YN was so startled, she almost pushed her elbow into the guy's face.

- Are you insane?? Stop attacking, immediately! -

Just in case not to get murdered, the guy let go of her and stepped aside.

And when YN looked up she was even more startled than before. The guy was towering above her, at least a head taller than her. His hair were white, and he had this makeup indicating those iconic scars on his face. He was wearing a simple white button up shirt - with a few top buttons left undone - and black pants that were tight around his waist.

- I-is that a wig..? -

The guy's face expression softened as a chuckle left his lips. She didn't miss the fact that he had purple contacts.

- Oh? No, i dyed them this way. -

He put a hand over her shoulder, bringing her a tiny bit closer to himself.

- You wanted me to be your boyfriend, why so silent now?? Do you not love me?? -

He pouted, enjoying the teasing. YN huffed, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him after her.

- Let's just get inside -

They didn't exchange a word while walking, but he changed their position, so that now their hands were entwined together.

As they walked down the hallway, some people who knew YN were eyeing her - and she, deep down, swelled with pride.

°°°

YN had to be honest. Having a man like that walking around with her for the whole day, like a puppy, was satisfying. Her lovely "Sanemi" was all smiley - a little out of character - and his acting skills were perfect. He had no problems with playing pretend, as if he and YN knew themselves for a longer time than just those few hours.

- Wait. What even is your name? -

YN spoke about that matter after the first lesson, when she realised she never asked him this - and there were no informations about it on his profile.

- Oh fuck, right, i never told you. I'm loosing my head here with you, see? -

He let our a chuckle and brushed a hand trough his white hair.

- My name's Aiden. But you can just call me Sanemi, you know. That's what i just am for you, right? -

YN raised her eyebrow questionably.

- You sound pretentious -

- Huh?? No offense. You're just oversensitive -

The girl didn't like his response at all, but decided to just wave it off.

For the rest of the day, she had a loyal puppet running around her like he was over the moon with her.

Maybe he was?

Or what's more possible, he just wanted to be worth the money.

What YN noticed, and wasn't against, was for sure, how touchy he was getting. Seems like his message wasn't just a joke and he really was taking the opportunity. Though they knew each other for like... Max 9 hours, YN didn't complain. It would probably be the only time a man would be touching her anyways.

After school, it was time to pay him off. Aiden got dragged out of the school by his "girlfriend" - while he talked with the friends he apparently made - and when YN made sure they were far enough from familiar people, stuck a bunch of bills into his hand.

- Isn't it too much? -

His purple contacts pierced trough her as his confused face expression almost made her giggle.

- I'm paying in advance -

Her explanation was fairly brief, but Aiden didn't comment it. The thing that surprised him was how she just chose to ignore him as she quickly walked down the street.

The girl jolted in surprise as she felt her hand being grabbed.

- Why are you running away from me? Let me just walk you home -

The white haired man spoke, taking YN's silence as an agreement. When they stood in the door to her house, he did so much as to lean down, kiss her cheek and smile before walking away with a little wave.

- See you tomorrow! -

YN was too stunned to answer to his words, as she stared at him before he disappeared around the corner.

°°°

When she laid in bed, the only thing she could think about were his hands over her, the WHOLE day. She knew she shouldn't, but she felt a tiny squeeze in her heart anytime she recalled how his hands would squeeze her waist or hold onto her own.

And so, even though he wasn't hers, it seemed that YN's "boyfriend" would be what pulls her out of the cage of her own misery.

#kny sanemi #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #cosplayer x reader #cosplay #demon slayer cosplay #Sanemi Shinazugawa cosplay #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba ff #kimetsu no yaiba #Sanemi Shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #sanemi x yn #sanemi x you

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science-lings · 1 year

Note

................... hi

Zelda observed her girlfriend, she could tell link has been overdoing it lately. She had been running all over hateno running other people's errands. Of course zelda knew it was all a facade, link probably had some sort of nightmare the past week and was trying to forget it.

However, this time was a bit different. Link had been putting off sleep, helping people with anything she could. It was taking a toll on her short figure slowly. Dark circles and sluggish movements. She was definitely hiding something.

Zelda had devised a plan, she waited till link got home that night and pretended to be asleep. She took a peek and saw that link was going downstairs, so she naturally crept down after her. Link was sitting at the table, resting her head in one of her hands. Zelda wrapped her arms around link, resting her head on her shoulders.

"You seem tired..... is everything alright?" Zelda asked, giving link a peck on the cheek.

Link gave an affirmative hum before giving zelda a quick kiss on the forehead.

Zelda went to push links bangs up and out of her face but a hand quickly grabbed hers and kept it from reaching her forehead.

"Link? What's wrong?"

Link shook her head, "nothing just a bit tired that's all."

Zelda didn't believe that for a second, she waved links hand off and felt her forehead.

"Um... I've gotta go to get some groceries for one of the store owners they wanted them done by tomorrow."

She began to get up but was stopped when she felt a hand grab her wrist.

"No you're not. Link, you should have told me. You are burning up and instead of asking for help you push yourself even further, why?"

"Zel, it's fine, you don't need to worry."

"If it was fine I wouldn't be worrying."

Link paused

"I can take care of my self okay, I don't need you making me your number one priority all the time."

Zelda was beginning to get frustrated and lost control of her tone a bit,

"Looks at you! You are working yourself so hard you are hurting yourself! Why won't you let me help you!"

"BECAUSE I SHOULD BE DEAD-" link clasped her mouth shut.

Zeldas breath hitched, she saw Link cower a bit.

She walked closer before giving link a tight embrace, "who told you that..."

Silence

"Never say that.... ever again."

She felt link tense up as she nodded.

Link was trying to hold back tears before she was scooped up and plopped in bed. A cool washcloth was being dabbed across her forehead.

"I'm sorry.... I'm just, not used to someone caring for me this much." Link said, looking and sounding utterly defeated.

"What do you mean?" Zelda said, placing her girlfriends head in her lap.

"As a knight.... the hero I wasn't allowed to be sick. I was already a girl and I wasn't supposed to show any weakness or else I'd be punished by my generals and.... "touched" by the soldiers my barrack. So I'm just... surprised you care this much."

"Oh link, of course I care, you're my girlfriend. I'm so sorry you were treated like that. You just need a break sometimes okay.... just, don't hurt yourself Please."

Link gave a small smile and nodded, earning her a small kiss.

Soon they had both succumbed to their own exhaustion, zelda holding Link in her arms.

im so sorry for taking so long to post this but AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

THEMMM

#YESSSS WRITE THEMMM #fem!link #fem zelink #zelink #sorry i spent the last like two weeks being completely consumed by totk

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 8 months

Text

For Every Action, A Reaction - Chapter 3 - Action and Reaction

Pairing: Raven Scientist (Victoria Van Gale/The Raven Leader)

Summary: Taking a step back from our poetry nerds, this instalment focuses on academic research projects, less than legal shenanigans, and most importantly, two coworkers who are smart enough to be geniuses in their respective areas but apparently not enough to confess.

Over the span of two decades.

Seriously.

Somebody has to do something. Before all their students lose their minds.

Complete!

Notes: HAPPY HILDA S3 TEASER EVE!!!! Posting this today instead of Thursday as usual because I Do Not want to compete with the fandom's hype tomorrow kjsdkjsdfh

Thank you to everyone that read this! If all works according to plan, this won't be the last you'll see of the Carpe Diem verse :)

Read it on ao3: (Carpe Diem verse) (previous chapter) (this chapter)

She should have studied engineering. Everyone in her family had told her that. If you’re already going to submit yourself to STEMS bullshit, better to do it in a prestigious area, at least. But no, she just had to follow her “passion” for weather sciences. Now she couldn’t even plan a sabotage smoothly. Pathetic.

Of course, she knew her ways around electronics well enough; the lab was scattered with a couple of inventions of her own that aided her in one part of the project or another. But her gadgets were always either very simple, or related to the area of study she was actually an expert on. This, though? This was neither.

The devices would have to be able to induce malfunctioning on every single voice box that the poor, desperate students working for Ahlberg’s project had built, causing enough of a ruckus to at least force them all to stop their practical work and go back to the theory, or at best signal to whoever was responsible for deciding which projects got funding and which didn’t that that was a bad idea. The ‘causing a ruckus’ part was easy enough; what was currently keeping Victoria and her student up and in the lab past hours was the ‘not harm anyone in the process’ part, which either was much more difficult or just seemed like it due to Victoria’s much bigger affinity for bringing shit down.

“You think it’ll work this time?” Raven stepped back from the round device they were working on, made of many strips of metal fused together into the ball shape, eyeing it warily. The design was supposed to help it on the ‘self-destruct’ part, in order to avoid them getting caught, but none of them had made it so far on the test runs yet.

“Only one way to know.” Victoria answered, sounding tired. She was usually excited at the lab; no matter what ridiculous situations that University threw at her, she loved her job. That day had just been so damned long that she was feeling the urge to press a self-destruct button for herself.

And, just as she was going to press on the remote that was controlling their creation in order to test it once again, they heard a knock on the door.

“What the-” Victoria whispered, tensing up as the thought of them having been caught in the act immediately came to mind.

“Here.” She threw the remote to Raven, who only barely didn’t let it drop to the floor. “If it isn’t anyone we should worry about, carry on without me. We don’t have time to waste.”

He looked at the remote as if it might explode in his hand, none too happy about the idea of running the test himself (which was fair, seeing as many of the past attempts had exploded in his vicinity), but the professor had walked away to the door before he could protest.

Knowing her messy bun must look like it was falling apart and there was nothing she could do about it to cause a better impression on whoever was on the other side, Victoria opened the door. And imagine her surprise (and utter relief) when it wasn’t another professor, or someone from the board, or even a student of hers, but rather Kaisa’s girl.

“Johanna?” She glanced at Raven inside, letting him know with a look that it was safe to proceed, and then at the clock. The only reason why students came there was to ask her about her subject or about her assignments. If Johanna decided to quiz her on some artistic bullshit, Victoria was screwed.

The second explanation for her coming here that crossed the scientist’s mind was Kaisa needing help, which immediately shook her off of her exhaustion. But Kaisa would call her herself if she needed, wouldn’t she? Unless her situation was too dire to walk or talk, which was a terrifying thought, but Johanna would hardly be standing there, looking calm albeit embarrassed, if that were the case.

“Hi, goodnight, Victoria.” Johanna shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and why did Victoria get the feeling she was about to be roped into something ridiculous? “Sorry to bother you, it’s silly, but when you have some free time, could you maybe help me with something? It won’t take much of your time.”

“I… yeah, of course.” She only hoped they didn’t need couple’s therapy or anything of the sort, because really they had come to the wrong fucking person if that was the case. “Is this about Kaisa?”

Johanna confirmed her suspicion, luckily still acting coy enough that Kaisa definitely was in no danger, and Victoria offered to give her her number so they could text. There were sheets of paper on her desk, even if most of those were discarded ideas for her ploy that she truly shouldn’t give away to just anyone, but eventually she found an old shopping list she could jot her number down on.

“Professor Van Gale, this isn’t working!” Raven screeched, making Victoria wince when she looked in his direction. There was smoke coming from the device, which was not supposed to be happening, and he was covering his mouth and nose with his lab coat.

“Ugh, just hold it for a minute, I’m coming!” She rushed to give the girl the paper and the most polite ‘good night’ she could manage, before closing the door and rushing to fix whatever nonsense life had in store for her now.

…......

Raven had to hand it to her, the professor put her money where her mouth was at. He only wished her mouth wasn’t at places that left him wondering if she was insane.

Were she any other professor trying to come out on top of a situation, he was sure he would have been left alone to do the dirty work, forced to put himself on the line because he would have been threatened with the loss of his spot on her programme if he didn’t do what she wished. Van Gale wasn’t at all that type of person, though, and maybe that was why Raven put up with everything he did. Instead, she had insisted she could do it all on her own, and he had tagged along because someone responsible had to be present. He told himself it was out of loyalty, but truly it was equally likely that he had lost his mind after so long spending his afternoons in a small lab with her. Anyone would, really.

He had been left with lookout duty, given strict orders to signal her and disappear completely if someone came, lest someone see him and put him in trouble. Raven did his job minutely, keeping his eyes and ears attuned to any odd motions, trying hard not to think about how very easily the professor had picked the lock to the facility that hosted Erik Ahlberg’s project. In the dead of night, the campus eerily quiet and foggy, he felt like he could very well be in a graveyard.

He only hoped his reputation wouldn’t lie there to die that night.

Luckily, the only sounds he heard throughout the whole thing were those of Victoria skillfully attaching their creations to the voice boxes the project worked on, and after less than an hour, she walked back over to where he was and began locking the door again, always wearing a pair of gloves and her hair tied so as not to leave any traces.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, Raven.”

Never had a sentence coming out of his tutor’s mouth left him so relieved.

He tip toed back to his shared student apartment with the hairs at the back of his neck standing on end, still observing his surroundings as if he were on the lookout. Technically, anyone was allowed to walk around campus at two in the morning, but he still might receive questions if he was caught and he didn’t think he could convince anyone about midnight jogging when he was dressed like he was going to work.

Upon arriving home unseen, Raven breathed a sigh of relief, ready to head into his room and pretend none of that had ever happened. Until, that is, he realised that the lights in the common area were on, and whoever was there must have heard him arriving. He did trust the boys he lived with, but just so he didn’t jinx it, he had preferred to keep the whole sabotage thing between him and Van Gale, and he didn’t want to be raising any suspicions when he was now so close to coming out of this story unscathed. So after a beat, Raven dragged himself to the kitchen, figuring a glass of water would do him well, anyway.

“Bit late for you to be up, isn’t it?” Tontu’s voice greeted him from where he was sitting on the couch, knitting. Raven silently thanked the stars that it was him and not Alfred; mysterious as he was, Raven knew that Tontu wouldn’t give him too much grief about whatever lie he told.

“Yeah, I had trouble sleeping and decided to go get some fresh air.”

Just as predicted, Tondu didn’t question him, only muttered something about finding arts and crafts to be very soothing. And then he said something that almost made Raven spit out the water he was sipping on.

“I had been meaning to talk to you alone, anyway. I know something you might want to about the Ahlberg guy. I remember you telling me the project you work on needed some of the grants that go to him.”

Pretending he hadn’t nearly just choked, he attempted to put his most innocent face on as he turned his falsely naive smile to his flat mate.

“Oh, truly?” God, how he hated acting. “What would that be?”

“Well, I was talking to King.”

“King?”

“Yeah, one of the janitors.” Tontu kept knitting like that should have been common knowledge. “You know, Rat King, big guy, smile’s a bit crooked when you tell them ‘good morning’, knows everybody’s business.”

Raven did not, in fact, know. He had no clue why a janitor would be in on, in Tontu’s words, ‘everybody’s business’, much less why the hell he was called ‘Rat King’, but he was almost sure he remembered a tall man who did give him a lopsided smile when he greeted him on his way to work. He wondered exactly what kind of intel the man would have, and if his silence could be bought with anything Raven or Victoria owned if it was something incriminating to them.

“Okay.” He drew on the word longer than he needed to. “What did he tell you?”

Even though Tontu’s voluminous hair covered most of his face, Raven could see the excited smile underneath, which made him shiver, if he were being honest.

“You’re in luck. There is some dirt on him that might just be enough to deal with your problem.”

…......

It was a day. Not a particularly great day, or a wonderful day, or even a good day. But it sure was a fucking day, and Edmund was trying to be more grateful lately.

He was still working on it, okay?

Most of the other students who worked on the project had already been at their testing area on the edge of campus when he arrived, right where the University’s property ended and the forest began. They were doing a general test run today, finally getting all of their voice boxes to work in sync to see if they had the desired effect; small groups of engineers and physicists worked on their devices, each group with at least one Ecology student. This had been one of the only wins Professor Bloom had achieved when the project had been approved, that it would need to have a minimum amount of her students so they could, at least, make sure that the wildlife they were dealing with weren’t being hurt by their pathetic plans.

The Ecology students in the project were, for that reason, usually referred to as “Bloom’s spies” by the other ones who were there working with them. But it was much more of a fond nickname than a jab - even Ahblerg’s students could see that this project was useless at best. They were all only there because there were many openings and it paid well, and they all knew it.

Sure, there had to be one or two engineers there who were actually interested in the inner workings of the voice boxes they had been perfecting for so long, but no one there (other than Erik Ahlberg, who barely made the effort to even show up) actually believed that what they were doing was important. Troll bugs weren’t a threat to anyone, as anyone with more than two brain cells could attest to. Sure, they tend to chomp on leftovers if you leave them out unprotected, and if one ends up biting you it will hurt like a bitch for a couple of hours; but that was it. No poison, no diseases, no imbalance in the food chain caused by them, and they will leave you alone unless you go out of your way to get close to one. Troll bugs were much more afraid of humans than humans had any right to be of them, as was usually the case for beings no bigger then two inches, much to some people’s confusion.

What was worse, they were an endemic species on its way to becoming endangered. Their habitat already occupied a small area, with the campus and new roads being built directly inside it, it had only been getting harder for them to survive. Yet some people had the nerve to complain when they were living directly inside the land where that species had lived since they evolved into existence. And some people even had the nerve to lead a research project to find ways to scare those bugs away.

Edmund, as well as everyone who had worked there long enough, was sure that had Birgitta not managed to put her own students inside the project, Ahlberg would have aimed for killing them, ecosystem be damned.

He nodded grimly to Gerda as he walked by the desk her group was at, and she answered in kind, returning the “it sure is one fucking day” sentiment. So good to be this connected to your friends.

He arrived at his station and noticed that not even the engineer and physicist he worked with seemed happy to be there. Maybe they all knew that if they accidentally harmed the creatures with their invention, Edmund would not be happy with them.

Huh. How nice to be recognized as a bug avenger. That seemed like a reputation he could get behind.

Later than all of them, Professor Ahlberg eventually arrived and gave a speech that was drawn out for way longer than it needed to be. Something about being able to live with privacy and comfort without fearing for themselves. Edmund wasn’t really listening, he had quit paying attention when he realized that the sentence but they’re just fucking bugs would be the only thing he’d manage to think during the entire time he did so. At some point he stopped talking, and led them all to activate their voice boxes at the same time.

When they did so, a loud screeching came from the boxes, which Edmund imagined would be what it would sound like if bells could be out of tune. They all pressed their hands to their ears, having forgotten the possibility of needing ear plugs; the sound frequency was supposed to be unbearable only to the bugs, they were supposed to be just fine. But if this was their ‘just fine’, Edmund thought, than the bugs must be in complete agony.

He was about to shout at them to stop, and as he looked around he saw other fellow ‘spies’ looking like they were about to do the same, when something went very wrong. The screeching began to come into a halt, the pitch becoming lower and lower as smoke began to come from the voice boxes, one at a time. All tests were immediately terminated, though the smoke didn’t cease, and a loud metallic ‘pop’ came from each of the devices. Ahlberg looked at the smoking desks scattered around the campus’ edge with complete horror as engineers unscrewed the soundboxes’ diaphragm searching for the broken component, and finding it without having to look any further.

Inside each of the boxes, there were strips of metal, still smoking and hot, that could only have been part of the machinery but which none of the engineers could remember ever having been part of their system.

Well, Edmund thought as he walked away from their testing area, trying not to look too pleased. Maybe practicing gratefulness does bring good things along.

…......

Later that same day, he walked into his professor’s office with a smug smile that was the universal code for “I have come as bearer of hot gossip”. Bloom wasn’t in as much of a slump as she had those weeks before, but she still didn’t look or sound as cheerful as her former self. Edmund could only guess what had happened, but it was enough to make him feel a little guilty for it, and he’d been trying to make it up to her since then. He had a feeling that the news of Ahlberg’s project having to be backtracked at least several months before returning to full activity would lift her mood up.

It was really getting distressing to have to keep pretending to not see the constant stiffness of her face, or to not hear her sad sighs.

“Ask me how work went today, professor.” He said after they greeted each other, sitting down on his usual chair. Birgitta lifted her gaze from her laptop, where she’d been looking for his most recent copy of his thesis work, and lifted an eyebrow. They didn’t talk a lot about his job at the project, only when it was to complain about it, so seeing him mention it while seemingly in a good mood was understandably confusing. Not to mention, she had known the first official test was coming up soon, and had been seething about it alongside Edmund for a long while.

“Well, how did work go today?”

Edmund leaned forward a bit, compensating for his lower tone of voice.

“It was disastrous.” That alone was enough to visibly capture her interest. “We went to test the machinery all at once to finally see if it would have the desired effect, but something inside every single one of them exploded and the soundboxes stopped working completely! We will all have to go back to the first stage and plan the devices out from scratch. It’ll take forever, maybe by then the board will agree to give that funding to something a bit less useless, at least.”

Birgitta blinked, something about every last soundbox malfunctioning at the exact same time not sitting well with her. It was just too perfect. The main step towards getting those inventions to actually be put to use disrupting the ecosystem getting completely thwarted like that was too good to be true. It made her wonder if she’d hired some sort of hitman to do it during her sleep walking bouts at night. That sounded exactly like the sort of thing she’d do, especially asleep when her subconscious wasn’t being filtered by any annoying morals.

“That sounds… oddly coincidental, doesn’t it?” There was a smile tugging at her lips despite the suspicious situation, strengthened by the grin her own student was giving her. “What part of the machinery exploded?”

Edmund shrugged, which made Birgitta assume that he didn’t know since he wasn’t one of the students responsible for actually building it. The response, however, threw her off.

“That’s the best part. I don't know, but nobody knows either. The physics and engineering guys are probably still there, because no one recognizes the piece that triggered the system malfunctioning. It was in every single soundbox, yet no one remembers ever having installed it, or what it was supposed to do, or can spot it in the blueprints. I’m half convinced there were some, I don’t know, bug fairies or whatever that didn’t want this to work out. We lucked out so hard.”

But Birgitta didn’t really believe in luck. In karma, maybe - heaven knew how much Ahlberg had yet to receive from it - but not luck. Good things, she believed, came from the love we spread, the people we captivate, the messages we share.

And apparently, they also come from pea-brained scientists who wouldn’t be able to distinguish a terrible idea if it kicked their door open and hit them into next week.

Because it didn’t take hours of analysing this new information and deliberating for the truth to come to Birgitta. She knew what had happened as soon as Edmund had stopped talking. There was only one person in the entire campus who had both the reasons, the means, and the absolute fucking hubris to go and sabotage the largest ongoing research project the university had.

And she was going to have to explain herself.

…......

If there was any activity more depressing than correcting exams, Victoria was unaware of it. Every year, students came excited to learn about clouds and wind and humidity and whatnot. Every year, Victoria had to disappoint them by revealing that meteorology had more to do with physics and calculus than with the “wonder of mother nature” or whatever the hell those hippies who somehow always found themselves in her classrooms had been expecting. You try studying fluid on a constantly moving platform and see how fun it is.

Technically, she could have left that task to Raven, but after having submitted him to their… extra hours last night, she had thought he deserved a day off. She supposed she could have taken a day off too, since she had no classes to lecture that day and any student who wanted to talk to her could just send her an email, but what was she supposed to do? Just stay home? She wasn’t even sure she knew how to, or what the protocol for that even was. Hell, her students might even become worried something had happened to her if she didn’t show up at campus for the first time in… well, since she began working there, truth be told. Not like she had much else to occupy her time with, after all.

She was about to start correcting another (clearly begrudgingly answered) exam when an urgent knock sounded from the door behind her. Her heart leapt to her throat as her mind immediately reminded her that she was very much guilty for something that was very much a crime, and someone in that college had to be smart enough to figure it out. It was all a matter of how lucky she would be in regards of who was the said bearer of the brain cell.

Very lucky, it seemed.

“Victoria.” She would have recognized the voice anywhere, even if she could hardly remember ever having heard it sound that angry. “You better be kidding me right now, I swear-”

Victoria’s best option was, evidently, playing dead. Some small, childish part of her wanted to see how much angrier Birgitta would get if she pretended to be a programmed recording and said that there was no one at the lab and then just not speak any further, but she valued her life a bit more than that. Just a tad bit, but she did. But if anyone deserved to hear it from her, it was Birgitta. Had she never found out, Victoria wouldn’t be able to attest to her morality going so far as to make her confess, but she would feel the need to share it with the woman who had been her close friend for so long. Since she already clearly knew, however (Victoria couldn’t think of any other recent fuck-ups from her part. Birgitta had never answered her last messages but barging on her office weeks later was hardly going to be her way to do it), it would simply be stupid to play dumb. If she at least talked it through, she would have a shot at getting her to not denounce her.

So she got up, and opened the lab’s door to a very angry Birgitta Bloom, her arms crossed on her chest and her eyes glaring at her in a way that, if looks could kill, Victoria would be dead and buried by now.

“Uh, hello!” She attempted sounding normal, even though seeing her again made her heart ache and seeing her like this made her feel like the smart choice was to jump from the window and run from the hills. “Maybe we should have this conversation inside.”

“Maybe we should.” Birgitta agreed, voice icy as she walked through the door that Victoria held open for her without as much as a glance in her direction.

“What the hell.” She wasted no time in saying as soon as they were alone in the lab. “Are you for real? Single handedly putting a halt to the only overfunded project in this university? Have you lost your mind?”

“Well, it wasn’t-” Standing by the door at a safe distance from the fuming ecologist, Victoria was going to say it hadn’t been ‘single handed’, but then realised that it would be better to keep poor Raven’s name out of this. “That big of a deal. Just a little messing with their soundboxes, you see.”

Birgitta squinted in a way that let her know she’d seen right through the slip up. “You know what I mean. It was too big of a risk. People could have gotten hurt!”

“No, they wouldn’t!” Victoria protested, hoping it was Birgitta’s anger speaking and that she didn’t actually think so low of her. I mean, it’s not like she would never hurt people, but hey! Rude! “I promise, I tested it countless times. It was projected to cause malfunction on the devices and then self destroy, but nothing more! My gadgets were the size of a fist, there wouldn’t be much harm done even if it hadn’t been inside the boxes.”

Lifting an eyebrow and looking like she was trying to scan the scientist for lies, Birgitta drew out a “Really?” while she looked around for remnants of that project. There were none. She’d made sure to do away with them all first thing in the morning - which meant she’d taken it all home, burned what could be burned, torn what could be torn, and thrown it all in a ditch in the middle of who the fuck knows where. She hoped Birgitta never found that part out. She might get mad about the littering.

“Yes, really.” Victoria lowered her gaze, feeling uncomfortable with the conversation. She supposed she deserved it, but she really liked it better when Birgitta thought she was only ‘kooky’ mad and not ‘dangerous’ mad. In some ways, it was good she had found out, though. At least maybe she’d see Victoria was not the person she thought she liked and her senseless rejection wouldn’t pain her.

And like she’d heard her thoughts, Birgitta touched that exact matter.

“Does this have anything to do with what you told me?” Victoria looked around the lab, anything but stare at Birgitta’s face as she came to all the right conclusions. “With us not keeping in touch, with you needing to do the right thing…?”

What was more disgraceful, she wondered. That she’d really given that piss poor excuse to someone she loved, or that her actions were so insane that the excuse had begun to make sense.

“It does.” She admitted with a sigh, tugging at the hem of her lab coat. “Birgitta… I don’t expect you to listen to me. I certainly don’t expect you to forgive me. But since it’s out, I have to let you know. I hated that I needed to tell you that. I was looking forward so much to getting to know you in a new way, have been for years, but… the morning after we talked, I realised that if I got caught, and we were dating, people would take you for the head of the operation. Everyone knows you rightfully hate that project, the connection would simply be too easy to make, and then I’d drag you down alongside me without you having done anything wrong!”

Victoria hugged her torso. Her voice had grown louder in her agitation, reverberating against the lab’s walls and machinery, and she noticed it and toned it down. She couldn’t see Birgitta’s face, staring at her feet as she was, but at least the woman was silent and letting her speak. She could only hope that didn’t mean she now feared her. Victoria didn’t think she could survive that.

“I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t take a chance on you taking the fall. So I decided that cutting us off before we even started would hurt less. And here we are. At least I get to tell you all of this.”

Taking the scientist completely by surprise, Birgitta scoffed.

“Maybe you should have let me make that choice, don’t you think?” She asked when Victoria snapped her gaze up to meet hers. Rubbing at the bridge of her nose, Birgitta sighed, muttering a ‘God, I can’t believe this’ under her breath. “Have you ever talked to any of the students who work there, Victoria?”

Caught off guard yet again, Victoria squinted, wondering where she was going with this. “No?”

“Well, I have. And let me tell you, they all hate it. You and I can have our ethical concerns about it, but those kids hate it with the kind of burning passion you can only feel when you spend too long around Ahlberg. Right now, they are all realising that all of their devices went down, at the same time, because of a piece no one can remember having put it there. And what do you think they will do?”

Victoria was about to answer ‘look for the culprit’, her stomach dropping, when Birgitta answered herself.

“They won’t do anything. In fact, I think your work is done forever now, because those kids will probably decide that sabotage is a great idea and try it every time a general test is upcoming. They’ll keep vandalising Ahlberg’s project and getting the money that they need, and honestly, good for them. No one will find out, Victoria, because the only people close enough to actually see how clearly set up this was could not care less.”

Relief would have flooded her. It definitely should at this news that, hooray, she was probably not going to jail! But Birgitta was deflating now, looking more exasperated (and just slightly amused), and something she’d said made her feel even more confused than she was relieved.

“‘Good for them’, really? I thought you were mad, shouldn’t you not be endorsing this?”

“What? Oh-“ Birgitta hummed, realising what this must look like from Victoria’s point of view. “Oh, no, I’m not mad about the sabotage. Ahlberg’s had it coming. What I’m mad about is you pushing me away because of it, and not even caring to explain!”

“I didn’t want to involve you in all of this!”

“Didn’t you, or didn’t you trust me to agree with you?”

The question gave Victoria pause, and she tapped her fingers against one another nervously.

“You may have a point.”

And could she be blamed, really? When the entire world agreed that left was the way to go, Birgitta would follow right if she thought that it was the kind, the thoughtful, the correct thing to do. Why should she expect her to agree to something her own student could barely get behind?

“Maybe.” Birgitta sighed. “Maybe that should have been a reason for you to rethink your plan, not to cut me off entirely.”

Not that it would have been a problem, Birgitta thought to herself, at worst I would have gotten you in contact with some students working there so you could plan it better.

Victoria at least had the sense to look properly chastened (it wouldn’t have been too surprising if she hadn’t), and Birgitta was feeling like she had run out of steam. Being angry was truly tiring, specially at someone she held so dear, and the little ‘you’re right’ that the scientist gently uttered pierced through the rest of her discontent.

It was fine. They were fine. Neither of them had done something horrible, nor had Victoria realised that she’d be miserable dating her or anything of the sort. It was just one of Victoria’s usual shenanigans, albeit admittedly bolder than she’d seen her try before. They were going to be alright.

“Were those all the reasons why you went back on our date, or is there anything else?” She asked, testing the waters. When Victoria shook her head, Birgitta lifted an eyebrow as well as the corners of her lips. “Well, then, is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

“Oh!” Victoria looked at her, blushing. “Yes. I’m sorry. Is there any chance you could forgive me?”

“There is, in fact.” She smiled. For the moment being, Birgitta thought it better to not tell her she’d practically already forgiven it. It would do no good to give her the impression she could get away so easily with that sort of thing. “And is there any chance you’d like to rethink your statement about not going out with me?”

Victoria smiled at her like she was the only sun she would ever really care to study.

And unbeknownst to them, Victoria’s cellphone laid on her desk, awaiting for the moment she’d pick it up and read the messages her student had sent her.

………

Surprising a grand total of zero people, it seemed like the way in which Erik Ahblerg had managed to get all of that funding for his project was… less than legal. According to the information Raven had shared with them (and he refused to say where he’d gotten that from, only that it was a bizarrely trustworthy source), the professor had been bribing members of the research directory and the board of directors to push his agenda forward. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; aside from money spent on materials and employing the students, it wasn’t an awfully expensive project, and yet it received many more grants than it needed, and now they knew where that spare cash went: into Ahlberg’s and his collaborators’ pockets.

They’d had to look into it, of course. Going to the higher authorities and saying she had gossip on a coworker wasn’t exactly going to lead her anywhere useful. But what Victoria did do, alongside Birgitta and other professors who resented that misuse of the university’s money, was request a thorough investigation of the destination given to those grants. What they ended up with was a long and scandalous list of people who Ahlberg was working in concert with, all of whom were then signed up for longer investigations into the source of their money and their actions in regards to their professional life.

Victoria hadn’t been the smallest bit surprised to see the Lyman sisters’ name on that list. She’d taken great pleasure, in fact, in watching the news of their participation in the corruption spread around campus, feeling like she was Karma itself; the very night the list had first been divulged, she’d called Kaisa and as soon as her friend picked up she hit her with a joyful “Guess what, nerd, I got your revenge for you!”

She knew some part of Kaisa had had to be pleased. No one willingly stuck around Victoria for that long unless they were a little bit fucked up as well.

None of that completely solved Victoria’s underlying issue, however. Sure, Ahlberg’s project was discontinued, and the grants were redistributed around other projects on campus, but hers was still vastly underfunded. It bothered her, of course, to know how far she could go and not be able to do it. But it didn’t make her grieve as much as she once would. Because now, for the first time in years, Victoria had something other than her job to live for.

She had strolls through the campus. She had late night phone calls. She had trips to the botanical garden and to the museums in Trolberg. She had movie nights. She had gentle touches and kisses that made her believe that the world was good, after all.

So maybe she didn’t have it all; no one really did, however much they would like to pretend otherwise, did they? But she had enough to overflow the gap that she’d failed to fill during all these years trying to stuff numbers and research and projects into it.

Victoria had enough to be happy. And now that she knew what that was like, she was never going to let that go.

#fic: feaar #verse: carpe diem #my fic #raven scientist #raven scientist ship #victoria van gale fanfic

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