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smutstationchoochoo · 9 months

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Desperate

COD Men x FemReader

Hear me out: a sex pollen fic where reader isn’t affected but he is and he is gone.

Word count: ~3.6k

A/N: It’s just the poorly written sex pollen drabble of my dreams, it’s fuck or die lads. Insert your favorite COD man here. Please forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes and my complete lack of knowledge regarding military things, all I know is that these men are hot and I love them.

Warnings: sex pollen, unprotected PIV (wrap it up), overstimulation, dubious consent (consent is sexy folks)

Banner credit: @cafekitsune

You all had been briefed at 0200. The flight to Berlin left at 0300 where the team would be infiltrating a terrorist hideout, a suspected manufacturing site for a new chemical agent. You were told that as long as you didn’t ingest it, you would be fine.

The fact that it had been made airborne was not in the fucking briefing.

The team had been split into pairs, you and he took the North side of the suspected warehouse. The size of it should have tipped you all off. Everything was running smoothly until 3 combatants had come from the door at the end of the corridor. He called for cover and ran ahead. You dropped two before he even got a stride in. The other he disarmed in seconds and then with a deafening crack, both men slammed through a door and into the resulting room. A brief struggle then silence. You heard him start to call the ok, his voice in the comm sounding clearer than earlier, then a noise, a pop, and the sound of air. You froze, watching a gas spill from the open door and dissipate immediately. Just when you started moving again, a growling, “Don’t,” tore through the comm. Then, the sound of ripping Velcro and something hard (his helmet you realized with a sickening drop) hitting the concrete floor echoed out to you. Soft murmurs that grew into angry outbursts of fuck fuck fuck transformed into one that became a groan of what sounded like complete and utter pain. You didn’t even have to think, the severity of the situation settled in. “It’s a gas,” you barked into the comms, “Northside hit, need medevac in 30, going dark.” You waited for confirmation, seconds after getting it and receiving news that the warehouse was almost cleared, you went to find him.

You knew what it did, you all did. Jokes had been made, smirks shared, but you all knew how bad it was. You weren’t even close to prepared. He was sitting against the far wall or rather pressed into it using it to keep his now shaking frame upright, gear strewn around the room, combatant on your immediate left with a mask (his mask, the masks you all were wearing just in fucking case) gripped in a dead hand, an empty canister mockingly sitting in the middle of the room.

You gripped the combatant by his legs and dragged him to the hall, before slamming the door shut upon reentry and grabbing a near chair to jam the door. You immediately began stripping yourself of your outer tactical gear until you both matched in only your boots, pants, and base shirts and then you turned your attention to him. Now kneeling by his side you took him in, looking for any other injuries noting nothing serious. That almost made you laugh with relief until you saw the front of his pants and him frantically palming the growing outline. You swallowed and quickly looked at his face shocked back to the reality of the current situation. The usually stoic, always larger than life, incredibly strong man in front of you was reduced to tears dripping from his now blown and hazy eyes, falling down flushed cheeks and landing on the front of his shirt that clung to his hyperventilating chest. You knew he had been shot, stabbed often, and left for dead a time or two, but this…

Shiny and new neurotoxin, you remembered the brief, attacks the nervous system, causing the mark to feel intense arousal and as if they have been lit on fire, specially formulated not only to cause pain but a complete and utter breakdown of will as victims often experience hallucinations and loss of self. If left in the system, it raises the core temperature until convulsions set in, and then heart attack occurs. Do not touch it.

No one had to ask how it was worked out of the system. Then again, they all believed they were too smart to touch the shit. Couldn’t do much about breathing it in when your mask was ripped from your face though.

Your hand pressed to his slick forehead now radiating heat, and feeling as if it could burn you like an open flame. At the touch of your blessedly cool hand, he hissed a low fuck through his gritted teeth, keening into your touch. You swallowed, hand tilting his cheek to look up at you when you asked, “Can I help?” His hair was sticking up at all angles from the helmet being hastily pulled from his head, and he looked up at you and gave one weak nod, “Please.”

Upon looking at the desperation pooling in those dark eyes (those eyes you often were caught staring at) any small reservations evaporated from your body under his burning gaze. You swiftly reached out, mercifully helping him escape from the now too-tight pants, the bite of his zipper. The moment your skin brushed against the head of him he was bucking up against it. You had to reach the other hand out to steady yourself against his shoulder, another touch that jutted his hips and had him twitching into your grip.

“Is- is this helping?” you croaked out, struggling to swallow, struggling to contain the wave of arousal that was threatening to course through you. He nodded, chin slack against his chest as he watched your hand work against him, moving up and down against the veins seemingly trying to break through his skin. No thoughts went through his mind other than the knowledge that you were jerking him off and that it felt so good that he could cry in relief. But then something shuddered within him, something loud and fast like a wildfire, burning just as much, and hot thick ropes of cum spilled over your hand. He couldn’t even cry out, it happened so fast. His breath was coming out in loud pants, when a new thought, the thought that he had just come in maybe thirty seconds flashed through his mind but it was quickly replaced with the horrible realization that the feeling of being on fire wasn’t going away. It was getting worse, out of control, containment measures failed. At this, he let out a sob as his hips moved of their own volition into your still soothing grip. It wasn’t enough, he knew, you knew, it wasn’t enough.

You stood, and he whimpered at the loss of your touch but all sound stopped in his throat when he watched you decisively unzip your pants and pull them down to your ankles underwear included, kicking off a boot, and one pant leg. When you straddled his lap he desperately pulled you down onto him, your exposed core grinding down where he wanted you, where he fucking needed you, that’s when he began to talk. Begging you to help him, saying that he’s sorry over and over, that he needs your help, incoherent babbling from a breaking mind, please it hurts so bad, I-I don’t, I can’t- fuck, I need you... All cool, calm, collectedness burnt to fucking ash. Just a man reduced to pure longing and want. A longing and want that might be what was threatening to kill him, not the toxin, just the build up over the days, weeks, months he had been around you threatening to crush him. He almost wants to die, this was never how it was supposed to be. He wanted it to be good for you, you deserve that, you deserve better, he could have given you better-

But now what was he? A heaving chest under a sweat soaked shirt beneath eyes that watch you like some feral animal. Hands wanting to claw at the clothing now so heavy, hot, and itchy against his burning skin, but instead were gripping onto your hips like it’s going to save him from burning to a crisp. The broken moans tearing their way from his throat when you line up his painfully hard cock to your entrance makes you throb, and then his choking cry as you slide down on him punches the air from your chest.

“Does this feel ok?” you panted out after a moment, struggling, trying not to drown in the pleasure of him stretching you, filling you. He couldn’t form the words, couldn’t even nod. His forehead falling to your shoulder in utter relief, mouth dropped open as he repeats your name over and over like an apology, a thanks, a goddamned prayer. How all he can do is sit there on the floor of some warehouse, back against a wall, the only thing resembling his usual strength is that ironclad hold he has on your hips as he helps you drag yourself up, then, accompanied by the tortuously obscene sounds of your wetness, back down. Brokenly pleading with you not to stop, don’t stop, fuck p-please don’t stop. You feel like molten heaven against his cock, your moans like angels (or devils, he’s too far gone to care at this point) singing through the blood rushing in his ears. One of your hands again steadies yourself on his shoulder, the other steadying him, an anchor point, with your achingly gentle hold on the nape of his damp neck (so gentle that it breaks his fucking heart, he wanted to give you more, you deserved more) as you ride him. Your hips rock once more, twice more, before his body seizes up with electricity that ricochets up his spinal cord and reverberates through his skull. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips, teeth grinding and eyes slamming shut, as he releases inside of you with a shattered cry. The sound of you gasping, now clutching, raking your fingers into him, has his hips continuing their rutting up into you, pushing his cum as deep as he can within your walls.

He stills for 10 seconds at most, panting breaths thunderous between you two, before pulling you into his chest, his hips slamming up into you, hard and hot as if he didn’t just fuck you until he could see every neuron firing behind his eyes. His hot open mouth finds your shocked one in a perfectly surprised “o,” more apologies pushing from his lungs and into yours between loud wet kisses as he listens (is blessed with thank you God) to you beginning to come apart. You couldn’t help it, as you ground down into his thrusts, even though you knew the threatening climax was going to be terrifying. Your breathing was ragged now as well, the air becoming harder and harder to drag into your lungs in between you cursing and moaning, and then- fucking hell- you’re at the precipice. Before you can even utter a syllable you are being flung over the edge. The pleasure rips through you, waves breaking against the rocky shore, with such intensity that it hurts, causing you to dig your nails into his skin, and bright spots to dance behind your closed eyes while the distant feeling of wetness registers from between you two. He explodes again with a gasp, feels you clench around him like a vice, his name, his real name, forcing its way from inside you and into his mouth with every pulse and it tastes so so good that he can’t stop, he never wants to stop, just filling you up until it drips from you, filling you with him because you’re his, his. Even when you both whimper and shudder with overstimulation, his arms shaking in their grip around you, he can only press his forehead to yours, rolling it desperately, as he begs for your forgiveness. I can’t stop, it won’t stop, I’ll make it good, please next time I’ll make it good.

“It is good,” you whisper to him with hitched breath from each thrust, trying to reassure him, “It’s ok, it’s ok.” You don’t know if he can hear you, his eyes are wild and don’t seem to even register that you are actually on top of him, that he’s inside of you, that he has made you yell out his name over and over and over. You don’t think he even knows what he is saying. Next time.

His own voice comes to him from somewhere far away, through the flames licking at his mind, please- fuckin’ hell please, just a little more- I just need one more, I need you, please don’t stop, I don’t want to stop nearly unrecognizable as he comes inside you again and again and again.

It isn’t until the medevac came and he was sedated that what just happened began to sink in. For a week, a fucking week, he’s in critical condition. No one talks about it, at least not in the way you all did before this. You saved him, you’re told. You don’t want to think about it, if you think about it then you think about how good it felt, how fucked it is that it felt good, and how everything is gone. If you think about all he said, you’d overthink, give meaning where there was none. He probably won’t be able to look at you anymore. You went to see him that first day. You sat next to him for mere minutes before bolting, the fear of him waking up and looking at you with disgust, telling you to get out in that icy voice you knew so well, sent you running straight to the mats to train until you wanted to scream. That’s all you did now, and that was where you decided you would stay until you died. That is until someone came and found you, told you he was awake, and that he had asked for you. The whole walk to the infirmary had adrenaline coursing through you, you wanted to run, to fight, to freeze right there in the hall and never move another fucking muscle. The thought of losing him, him being there but not wanting to be near you anymore made you feel sick. It had been so long, so long of repressing those feelings that flared in your chest when he smiled at you during sparring, the feeling of him seated next to you on a flight, his eyes catching yours just so you could stay with him. Well, you thought with dripping ire, that had literally and figuratively been fucked now hadn’t it?

You knocked, heard his gruff voice, and entered. You stopped dead in your tracks three steps into the room after mistakenly looking up and finding him staring at you from where he sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, looking like he was about to head out on another call. You were desperately trying not to shake but your hands gave you away. You could take on a man twice your size without batting an eye but this?- you were terrified.

The moment you walked into the room, all his time that morning when he first woke thinking about what he would say to you, how he could face you, was knocked from his mind. You had saved his life. He never wanted that. He wanted to give it to you, it was yours after all. He didn’t know when it had become yours, every single part of him, but if he had to wager a guess it was the moment he found you in his life. And it might all be ruined.

The memories had started coming to him immediately after waking up, almost more clear and real now than in the moment. It jolted him awake so hard that the attending ran into the room for fear that his hammering heart had in fact given out. Once his breathing had calmed a little, he tried to sift through the fog. His recall of the smell of you, the arousal dripping from between your legs, mixed with your sweat and the familiar scent of your grapefruit and ginger shampoo, nearly pulled a groan from his chest. The soft touch of your hands, cool and strong against the fire that spread through his blood, had brought him back. The feeling of you breaking, the soft whines, the way you said his name… the things he had said, he couldn’t just shut the fuck up could he?

He had to bring his hands up to cover his eyes, willing the images to go away, just for a moment, please, he just needed some time, if only he had time- next time. Next time, he had told you. A desperate promise, a reassurance, trying to tell you that it wasn’t just the chemical coursing through him, it wasn’t just his hijacked nervous system. Did she know? Did she understand? That’s when he asked for you, without thinking, just wanting to see you, to explain. He had never been good with words unless it was biting sarcasm across comms or coolly delivering ultimatums in an interrogation. Then he remembered, the thing that sent his heart barreling through his chest for the second time, the machine next to him screaming. It is good, you had said, it’s ok, it’s ok, you had whispered.

He ripped the monitors off his chest, ignoring the doctor's protestations, found the clothes that had been brought in for him and got dressed. Now that you were standing here before him he was unsure. You looked scared, and he could count on one hand all the times he had seen you in such a state.

His staring was unnerving, more unnerving than if he had shouted, yelled, grabbed you, anything but this, this was fucking torture. You had to leave, just get off base, go somewhere, anywhere but here- the sudden sound of your name shook you from the reverie. The tone had your eyes finding his immediately.

He stayed seated, scared that if he stood, if he made his way to you, you would run, and you both knew that you were much quicker than him. If you ran, if you left, he would never catch up. Only when his knuckles began to ache did he realize how tightly he was gripping the edge of the mattress in an effort to keep himself there. It was hard to look at you and not remember the way you had looked when you pressed your hand to his forehead, when you had thrown your head back in pleasure, when you had grabbed his face when he was too exhausted to continue but thankfully no longer felt like he was burning alive. It was hard to remember and not stride across the room and hold you. He took a breath and forced his shoulders to relax in a way that he had done so many times before.

“I-,” he started, his voice cutting through the room, his normal voice, the one you recognized as him and it set you slightly at ease from sheer familiarity, “I’m so sorry.” Now he had to turn his eyes downcast.

“What?” Your response, the shock in your voice, forced him to look at you again. Your hands itched at your sides, confusion rippling across your face.

His eyes narrowed, he knew you so well. Always blaming yourself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m sorry that happened, I’m sorry you were put in that position,” the word choice made him nearly cringe. He continued, “I never-I didn’t want it to happen that way.”

Your brain jolted, standing there in shocked silence, his words thundering through your ears accompanied by the pleading of next time.

He pressed on, desperately trying, “I know you, you’re going to think this was your fault. It wasn’t. There was nothing either of us could do, thank you for your, uh, help. Just- fuck, please just say some-,”

Shock still swept through you, the words escaped your mouth before you could think, “Did you mean it?” You figured by the way he leaned back that he knew what you were talking about. Then he held out a hand, palm up, an offering. Before you knew it, you had crossed the room, putting your hand in his and letting it gently pull you between his legs. His giant frame meant even sitting on the gurney that his gaze was level with yours, and those eyes searched your own when one word sounded through the room.

“Yes.”

This word broke you. One fucking word, one word that answered every glance between you two, every smile shared, a word you brokenly whispered into the night when you had a hand between your legs thinking about him knowing you shouldn’t. You hadn’t cried all week, but now the giant tears rolling down your cheeks felt like a release. When his free hand, warm and rough, swiped them away you couldn’t help leaning into it, just as he had done. All tension, all fear, dissipated from the room. That hand continued to just below your ear, cupping your neck, and gently pulling you forward to press his head against yours, eyes shutting, just resting there against each other in the moment.

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” you sighed.

You could feel the smirk that you knew was slipping across his mouth.

“Well, I did say next time.”

This time when you rode him with the small bed creaking beneath the movements, he stopped you any time you tried to speed up (it was your turn to beg and plead), keeping you at a languid torturous pace. That way the bastard had all the time in the world to whisper into your mouth, letting you taste each word, all the things he would do to you next time and all the times after that.

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! :)

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sukunasteeth · 24 days

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Your First Time on Sukuna's Bike

You lost a bet.

That’s ultimately how you ended up here.

"Hey," Sukuna is calling your attention to him, sitting on his motorcycle with a spare helmet outstretched in your direction. "Put it on."

The sun was just starting to set behind him on the horizon, casting him in this warm orange flavored glow that was almost comforting. Almost.

"'Kuna, maybe this is a bad idea." You stay where you are a few feet away, shifting from foot to foot nervously. "Maybe you should go to the meetup by yourself-"

He interrupts you with one call of your name, effectively silencing you. He raises a brow.

"C'mere," He's smirking at you, seeing your unease as a challenge. Like he always did.

"No, totally, I would. It's just-I- " You can't find the words to deny him. They don't come to you anymore. Your heart aims to please him in everything but your body is frozen in fear. Your brain scrambles to produce something- any kind of lie under his lion-like gaze. "I just remembered that Yuji asked me to do something with him-"

"Yuji's with his goth boyfriend." Sukuna rolls his eyes, quickly swapping the helmet to his other hand and leaning across the short distance between you to grasp your wrist instead. He tugs you closer to him, until your shoe is nearly touching the tire of his bike.

He's grinning up at you, with that convincing little squint to his eyes.

"Chicken shit." He accuses.

You gape at him.

"I am not afraid of your little motor bike, okay?"

"Then put the helmet on, Braveheart." He shoves said helmet into your hands and releases it before you can say no to fully grasping its weight. You fumble with it, trying not to let the piece of equipment slip to the asphalt, it felt expensive and heavy with quality, just as a lot of Sukuna's things did.

When you finally have it secured to your chest, safe and sound, you pale at the thought of the next step.

Now, Sukuna was nothing if not a gentleman. You knew that. But, he also was constantly toeing the line of gentleman and... complete and utter vagrant menace. He would come over to your apartment after a meetup like the one the two of you were going to, with wind whipped cheeks and adrenaline clearly glimmering in his eyes. Occasionally, he would even ask you if you had a spare tarp so that he could cover his bike in case the police came around the neighborhood looking for a similar one.

Being in one of his turbo kitted cars was different. If there was an accident, it wasn't just between you, the heavy leather jacket Sukuna had bought you, and the rough merciless asphalt of the street.

You're staring down at the helmet like it's a death sentence when Sukuna calls for your eyes again, his hand coming up to caress the back of your arm with a gentle, coaxing touch. He ushers you until you're within his airspace, creating a timeless bubble where only the two of you exist.

You’re slightly guilty when you look up at him. You hated questioning Sukuna, especially when it came to something like your safety, which he would never put at risk, but you can't help the nerves curdling in your stomach.

His gaze melts into something similar to sympathy, still slightly amused with you.

"Why're you scared?” He wants to know. He knows just which soft and low tone of voice to use on you- to make every secret you have come rushing to the surface, desperate to please him just like the rest of you was.

"Scared? Of a stick with two wheels that can go in between cars that weigh literal tons while riding at a speed of 120 miles per hour? No. No, why would I be scared?"

"120 miles per hour?" He repeats, cocking a brow at you. "And put my little chicken shit in danger? Are you insane?"

You bite your lip.

“Can we go slow?”

Sukuna merely laughs, turning back towards his bike and turning the key to kick start the ignition. The time for conversation was clearly over.

“Put it on.” ~

Sukuna actually does go at a reasonable speed for the majority of the time. You get used to the feeling of the wind gliding over every inch of you, hissing so loudly in your ears that all other sounds become moot. It’s almost like white noise.

Sukuna’s body is warm and sturdy against your front, and you press more of yourself than needed into him, just to be closer. Occasionally he’ll reach down and squeeze your thigh or point something out for you to look at, but otherwise he lets you take in the scenery at an easy pace.

After an hour of riding, you may very well say it was comforting on the bike.

At least, until you get to a long stretch of highway, that is. Empty and wide as it is long. A highway to some rural part of the city you had never been to before.

Sukuna taps your knee, and then reaches up and tightens your hold on his waist. It was a signal.

“Wait-” Even if Sukuna could hear you past the helmets, the unrelenting wind, and the roar of the motorcycle beneath you, he didn’t give you a chance to say much.

The bike climbs speed as your heartbeat climbs in speed and if it weren’t for the helmet, it would be impossible to breathe easy with the wind whisking around you in such a flurry. Your thighs press into Sukuna’s, and you peek over his shoulder at the speedometer to watch it hit 95. It felt so much faster to you. It felt like you were flying.

You can’t help the giggles that escape you as exhilaration plucks them out of you.

Fear had long since revealed itself as excitement to you, and Sukuna could tell in the way you would kick your feet as he revved the engine that you were on the same page now.

By the time the two of you make it to the meetup, you’re buzzing like a ball of electricity. Sukuna parks the bike, kicks the stand out, and immediately turns around to unclasp your helmet first.

You tear it off of you, barely containing yourself long enough for him to remove his own before you're winding your arms around his neck. Giggles are still leaking out of you and into his ear, which is searing cold beneath your lips.

“I told you you’d like it.” He chuckles, leaning backwards into you and forcing you to be the one to keep the both of you upright. You use your free hand to pull on his hood, forcing him back even further until you can press a kiss to his prideful smile.

“That was fun.” You whisper.

“Good.” He whispers back, grabbing his keys from the ignition without moving his head from your grasp. “You’re drivin’ us home.”

#jjk #sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #he's a hooligan #it's what we love about him #my writing

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fangirl-dot-com · 1 month

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Drive To Survive

key:

indented italics - flashbacks, display other than interview, screen changes

February 14, 2025

The screen is dark as the newest episode of Drive To Survive plays.

The title read “The Rookie.” It was finally time for the episode that everyone had been waiting for since the 2024 season ended.

The opening scene starts with multiple flashes of cameras. If people watched the 2023 season, they would know exactly what circuit it was. The Elvis impersonators would give it away as well.

Standing in a circle was the current world champion, two Ferrari drivers, and the Papaya duo. They smiled forced smirks for the cameras. Yet, they dropped them once they realized the cameras were not pointing to them. The Netflix camera filmed them all turning to face the front. Most of the drivers had confused looks.

“I didn’t know Checo was a Cars fan,” the microphone picked up the words from the red clad Spaniard.

Max smirked, the camera zooming in on the Dutchman.

“He’s not.”

The camera angle changes to the back of a young woman, blond hair bouncing with every step. A red scarf flowed behind her, white body suit sparkling under the flashes of all the cameras.

The screen flashed the title before a producer chair was put in a spotlight. The camera angle switched to a back view as a driver walked around and sat in the chair. Their face is completely nonvisible from the camera angle, but people know who it is.

The lights dim before brightening, and the camera angle is back on the chair with the driver. Blond hair reflects the lighting, as well as a nice smile. The episode clapper is in her hands.

“Please state your name and team for the camera.”

The woman in the chair took a breath.

“My name is Y/n L/n and I drive for the Italian team, Scuderia Ferrari.”

She clapped the black and white box. A loud beep sounded in the studio as the camera crew started to laugh. The girl in the chair started giggling as well, before acting serious again.

“Yeah, that was a lie. I drive for the best, the Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 team. Red doesn’t look the best on me. I prefer navy.”

She smiles, trying not to laugh once more.

The camera quickly cuts to black and then fades into a clip, that looks similar to a home video. A young girl is smiling for the camera, tiniest helmet in her hand.

“How old were you when you started karting?” a voice sounded over the video.

The blond cocked her head in thought. She smiled at the nostalgia that was running through her mind.

“I was five.”

The same little girl was now in a kart, doing donuts on a driveway.

“My parents had gotten me a kart as a present. They had been talking about starting me as soon as possible. I mean, I had toy cars before for practice. My first one was a bright pink Barbie car and I got that when I was 3.”

The clip changes to a different scene. This time, it was of a karting circuit. Multiple kids were aiming for the first place spot, but a singular pink kart was going around the outside, taking it from them.

“I remember my first time winning. It was 2008, a few months after I got my kart. All the boys there looked at me weird when I showed up with my hot pink helmet.”

“Where you scared?” the interviewer leaned in, awaiting the answer.

“Of the boys? Not one bit. They should have been more scared of me.”

It was now a black screen, but multiple voices shouted over it.

“Y/n L/n wins her first feature karting race.

“That is another win for the female karter!

“Y/n L/n wins the European Division for karting in 2010!

“L/n takes the 2012 Italian Karting Division Championship!”

“Karting will always be a part of me.”

“Who kept you going?”

The girl gave a sad smile to the camera as she looked down at her hands. She knew she had given them permission to talk about the subject. She just didn’t know that they’d go right off the bat.

“My godfather, Lorenzo.”

The screen changed to a clip of the small girl running to a taller man. The man was knelt down in the grass, arms open wide to catch the running girl. A gentle smile was on his face as he looked at the trophy in the child’s arms: almost too big for her to carry on her own.

“I believe that without him, I wouldn’t be in this chair. I owe it all to him.”

The scene changes once again, to multiple clips of an F4 and F3 car crossing the finish line.

“Y/n L/n wins her first F4 race of the season!

“Is she going to take home the championship today? Yes she does! Y/n L/n is the 2018 Formula 4 Champion!

“It is a new year and we are seeing a lot of new rookies in Formula 3. Hold on, is that Y/n L/n? Ah it is! So glad to see the girl here today especially after last year!

One of the regulars on the show, Will Buxton, was now in the seat.

“What are your thoughts on L/n’s rise in Formula 3?”

Will leaned in, getting focused.

“You have to have such a good foundation in your family and close friends, to be supported, to be good like that. Because without good support, a driver cannot be a good driver.”

“L/n is across the line to take home her first F3 race win. We were seeing her looking a bit down earlier, so I hope this brings her spirits up because she is making history today.”

“So, I was disowned right before that race that I won in F3.” The blond shrugged. “I really never had any good support other than like three people. At the time, two of them were just staff too.”

She giggled at the revelation, knowing what Buxton had said beforehand.

“Another win for L/n, making her the 2019 Formula 3 champion. Ladies and gentlemen, you do not want to miss watching this racer ever again.”

Somber music now plays in the background.

“How nervous were you when you made the jump from the Formula 3 division to Formula 2.”

The girl gave a nervous scoff. “I was terrified.”

Clips of pictures filled the screen.

“I had just lost the only person in the world who I know still cared for me.”

“Heir to the Alessandrino Fortune Has Died”

“Former Italian Karting Champion Lorenzo Alessandrino Has Passed Away”

“Lorenzo Alessandrino, 2001 Formula 2 Champion, Is Dead”

“Y/n L/n Makes Motor Sport History as the First Woman To Start in Formula 2”

“L/n Takes the Formula 2 Feature Race”

“Y/n L/n, History Maker: First Female To Win a Formula 2 Race”

The headlines fade into a video of the podium. A 25-year-old Max Verstappen is visible, holding the 1st place trophy. He is seen watching the 17-year-old Y/n L/n shed some tears during her national anthem, while pointing to the sky when it finished. He gingerly stepped out and handed it to her when cued. She graciously took it from his hands and offered him a wide smile. Max stepped back, watching the young girl openly cry in front of thousands. On the inside, he wished he had that strength.

“I could tell something was off that day.”

A new driver was in the chair. Male, blond, and in the same team uniform as the female was. Anybody who’s anybody knew exactly who that was.

He sucked in a breath. “Obviously, I didn’t know her or what she had been through at the time. Now knowing, I wish I had given her a hug.”

Max let out a chuckle as he reminisced on that day.

The screen flashed and the woman was back in the chair.

“I knew who he was. Everyone knew who he was.” Her hands waved around. “Max Verstappen, probably one of the greatest drivers to grace the grid. No one just skips most of F3 and all of F2. You have to be great. And that was Max.”

“Was he your favorite driver on the grid at that time?”

She let out a snort. “Oh gosh no.”

Everyone in the studio laughed.

The scene changed to you sitting next to Charles at one of the debriefs in Las Vegas. You had no clue why they put you there, because last you knew, you weren’t driving. However, they had said something about wanting the pole sitter and you (who had done the fastest lap in FP1) to talk for a bit.

Your cheeks were a bit heated as you were truly sitting next to your hero. Charles could only smirk at your very shy nature next to him. He watched you rattle off about some part of the car and the balance.

The Monegasque cut in.

“See, this is why she is perfect to be Max’s teammate. They could talk all day.”

Everyone around them laughed, along with you who gave some quiet giggles. You rolled your eyes.

“Let’s not talk about the fact that you have your own ‘Leclerifying’ hmmm?”

The girl smirked at the camera. “There was a certain McLaren driver that always tried to get the attention of a select Spaniard. If Lando was obsessed with Carlos. I was obsessed with the other Ferrari driver. I tried to get his attention on Twitter, er, well now X a couple of times. It was still Twitter when I was using it.”

“Of course I noticed her tweets.”

A new driver was now in the seat once again. This time, he wore the iconic Rosso Corsa team polo.

Charles smiled as he looked down at the multiple rings on his finger. His hand came up to his neck to fidget with a certain necklace. His smile grew as he thought on the memories.

“I thought it was sweet. A young driver was trying to keep up with the big leagues. I’m pretty sure I responded a couple of times. And Sebastian had put in a good word for her.”

“Sebastian?”

Charles’s eyes widened as he smirked.

“Vettel. He’s known her for longer than anyone here has.”

The scene changed again.

The girl was back as she clapped her hands.

“Charles made my day whenever he responded. To me it was probably like if Harry Styles responded to a fangirl’s tweet or Instagram. I always hoped that I’d make it to Formula 1 and could maybe drive beside him.”

“We were told that you know retired driver Sebastian Vettel.”

The blond smirked, not nervous but confident.

“Yeah, I know him. He was really good friends with my godfather.”

She leans forwards and fixes her shorts.

“It’s kind of how Max was close to the Schumacher family. Lorenzo worked with Seb multiple times in the very early 2000’s when Seb was still in karting. I want to say probably even before I was born as well. He was a little bit older than Seb, more like a mentor. I was able to catch up with Sebastian around 2020 and I got to meet a few more people.”

“People such as?” they prodded.

“Kimi, Nico, Mark. I’m pretty sure I met Lewis like once though when I was pretty young. Like probably around 2015. I got to watch a couple of Formula 1 races with them in 2020.”

The camera cuts to a man wearing the Mercedes logo on his polo. His braids are kept nicely as he smiles at the camera. They hand him a picture of you and him in 2015. His eyes are wide as he keeps looking at the photo and then to the camera.

“This was her?” Lewis questioned, letting out a small laugh. His eyes squint as he tries to get a closer look in the dark room.

The scene changes once again, the female driver back in the seat.

“Were you nervous that you might not have made it? To Formula 1 after what happened in 2020?”

The blond looked down at her hands.

“There were a few years where I was convinced that I wouldn’t.”

The screen fades to more headlines.

“Y/n L/n enters a second year of Formula 2 with PREMA”

“The Future for F2’s Only Female Driver is Uncertain”

“L/n Is Out of the Last F2 Race of the Season”

“PREMA Drops L/n for Her F2 Final Season?”

A clip of a meeting of some sorts flashed on the screen. You were looking quite down as you picked at the end of a table as someone read off a paper. You didn’t even want to pay attention as they were nailing the final nail into the coffin.

“Prema Racing has decided to let go of driver number 89, Y/n L/n. After the 2022 season, she will no longer race for or have any affiliations with Prema and will be replaced by Ollie Bearman.”

You spoke up. “But I have a contract until the end of 2023.”

The representative glared at you, before looking back at the page and kept reading. “Since driver 89 has underperformed in the past 2 years, Prema has decided to break contract. Compensation will be sent at a later time.”

Vito had silently grasped your shoulder to offer you some comfort, but the hurt had already been done. You were going into a season for the first time since F4, you didn’t have a secured future in the sport.

Ollie was sitting on the other side, watching you sadly as they basically read your death sentence. The camera zoomed in on you playing with a pen. If one were to look closely, they could see tears streaming down your cheeks.

Will was back in the seat.

“A driver without a contract or team cannot drive.”

The scene changes back to the driver.

“I mean. I had other options. On the side I was talking to Sebastian and even Nico. I was trying to keep my eyes open for something, anything. Except, it turned out that I didn’t need to.”

More headlines flashed.

“DAMS To Sign Both Leclerc and L/n for 2023”

“Y/n L/n Wins First Two Races of the 2023 Formula 2 Season”

“L/n Wins Her Third Race with Teammate Arthur Leclerc Behind Her”

“Y/n L/n Makes History Once Again: First Female To Win Formula 2 Championship”

“Y/n L/n: Youngest Driver To Win F2 Championship”

The girl is back in the chair, the spotlight on her.

“I didn’t know that I’d get the championship my final year. I was skeptical. I really thought that I wouldn’t be able to, since it was my final year, I had been dropped, and I had a new teammate. But I had a really good teammate and a better team. They really put everything into me being the best driver.”

“What did you think would happen after everything was over? You had won the championship with 1 race to spare.”

The girl swallowed before speaking. “Obviously, I thought I didn’t have many options. At the time, it seemed as though every door was closed. I kept talking to my manager about it, and every time he said he would come back empty handed. I even talked to him that morning, and he just had a sad smile on his face.” She paused. “I knew that even though I could be the champion, I had nowhere to go after that.”

The person in the chair changed.

“So, that was all a lie,” Vito spoke to the camera, a smile on his face.

The scene had changed. Vito Accardi, Y/n L/n’s manager, was seated in a chair. It looked like he was stressing over his laptop. Stella, L/n’s race engineer at the time of 2023, was seated across from him. He was silently tapping a pen on the table as he looked over the words on the screen.

“Too many junk emails?” she teased, settling into her chair.

The male shook his head.

The screen showed multiple contracts up at once, lines upon lines were highlighted. The headers at the top of each contract showed very recognizable logos.

He smirked as he looked directly at the camera. “I couldn’t tell her anything until I knew that there was something for certain.”

“How many teams wanted her?”

“All of them.”

The scene changed to a past driver’s get-together: one that no one had seen before. The group consisted of Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, Fernando Alonso, Daniel Ricciardo. An odd group, but they were just waiting around (or hiding on a Wednesday).

Charles was looking down at his phone, while Max was watching him closely. The Monegasque’s fingers were typing at a lightning speed.

Lando was the one to point it out.

“What’s got you in a tizzy?” the Briton asked, pulling Charles out of whatever fog he was in. He quickly turned his phone off.

“Ferrari is wanting to sign someone else, but wouldn’t be able to do so until 2025. Except her manager insists on a seat for 2024.”

Lewis had his interest piqued. “It is Y/n L/n?”

“Yeah. My brother has put in great words for her, along with Sebastian. Pierre also says that Alpine is thinking of options too. She’s,” he huffed, “very good. Almost a little too good.”

The other Mercedes driver took a sip of his drink. “Toto was just talking to me about that, but he said the same thing. There aren’t any seats available until 2025. But he wants her.”

Lando rolled his eyes. “So we’ve all gotten the talk about how all the team principals want to sign her. Even McLaren is speaking about how to get her a seat somewhere. Testing driver or something like that.”

The older Spaniard spoke up. “It would be foolish not to. She has generational talent. Stroll is looking at her as well.”

“So are we. Except there aren’t any seats,” an Aussie added.

Max was quietly reading almost every article he could get his hands on about her. In the back of his mind, he knew that Checo was going to retire after this year (especially after what happened at Mexico). He quickly sent one to Christian, only getting a thumbs up.

Daniel bumped Max. “You’ve been quiet over there. What are your thoughts on the potential rookie?”

The Dutchman looked up. “What rookie?”

The scene changed back to the Italian man.

“I’ve been her manager for years. I knew exactly what she needed at that moment. Sure, I could have told her, but I knew she wanted to race in 2024 and not wait. I’m not her manager for nothing.”

“How did you get in touch with Red Bull’s Christian Horner.”

The man adjusted in the chair. “Well, even though she wasn’t on their junior team, the actual brand Red Bull was one of her sponsors in karting.”

The scene changes once again, this time the Team Principal of the currently reining team was now in the seat.

“Vito had gotten in contact with me when she first started F2,” the older Briton said. “But we wanted to see what would happen. We took a chance at Max, way back then. But this was a bit different.”

The interviewer asked, “Because she was a girl?”

Christian shook his head.

“Because she was 16 at the start: younger than Max was by two years. Sure, she turned 17 at the end of the season due to a later birthday in October. But, we took a step back to see what she could do, especially now that they changed the age rules after Max. She was dropped by PREMA, and we almost took the chance then to maybe bring her in as a development driver. But, Vito was adamant about her wanting a championship. She wanted records broken, and she did.”

“How did everything go down? Before she knew.”

He smiled.

“I called him right after I got the article from Max. Youngest to win an F2 Championship and a female on top of that.”

“Was everything pretty smooth sailing?”

He shook his head. “I was advised not to sign her, but I was told ‘no’ for Max and you see where that got me. I wasn’t going to let her go to a team that wouldn’t let her shine.”

The scene changes to the RB19 being driven out at the mock track for training. The girl’s white helmet was a stark contrast against the deep navy of the car. The camera panned to the mock pit wall. Multiple people pressed buttons as they watched you take lap after lap.

A much older man just looked on with pinched eyebrows, not really interested in seeing what the girl had to offer.

After the final testing times had been clocked, he stood up and slammed his papers on a table, before he left the pits. Christian smirked as he watched him stalk off. He knew he made the right call for the second time.

“How did it feel being in the seat for the first time?”

The girl, back in the seat, responded, “It felt surreal.”

She kept talking as the screen faded into clips of the car.

The aerial view watched as the car look several laps: getting close ups and shots of the car going around the corners.

“I went from having the door slammed into my face to the door being blown to bits.”

“Did Vito ever tell you that he was talking to multiple people at once?”

She looked at the camera. “He did. But he knew what I needed. That’s why he’s been my manager since 2018.”

The scene changes to multiple flashing cameras as the girl walked into the paddock for the first time in Vegas. The cameras followed as she straight up walked to the group of older guys, introduced herself, and followed Max as he walked away. The rest of the guys watched her animatedly talk to the man who hated every second of the Las Vegas Grand Prix.

“The beginning of your season was filled with a lot of highs,”

The screen flashes to multiple clips of you raising trophies, especially highlighting your podium in Bahrain.

“And lows.”

The female’s eyebrows raised. “No kidding.”

The scene changes to your car flipping in Suzuka before panning to people’s reactions. Many people immediately stood up. Others put their hands over their mouths. Many stayed sitting, frozen in shock over what they just saw.

The screen fades to black, but radio messages can be heard.

“Kid, you have to answer me.”

“Tell me you’re ok. You need to respond.”

“I can’t lose you too.”

Charles was back in the chair. Tears could be seen in his lash line as he exhaled a shaky breath. He closed his eyes, trying to get over his emotions.

“A crash like that doesn’t happen every day. It was awful, just waiting to hear back from her. Really took me back to 2014. Reminded me of Jules. On the same track. Rain. I don’t think I would have finished the season if she hadn’t made it.”

The scene changes to multiple marshals standing around the car, trying to get to you. Except, you were trapped. They didn’t want to start cutting, just in case there was a fuel leak. They did not need for the car to catch fire.

“I remember watching Lewis just turn around,” George said, now that he was in the seat. “He kept shaking his head and muttering. I couldn’t stop crying.”

“Y/n is a driver who was shy at the beginning, but then got more comfortable with you as time passed. She became precious to everyone on the grid.” Oscar offered a smile, but it fell short as he remembered Suzuka.

“There hadn’t-” Lewis began, but cut short. He swallowed before he kept going. “There hadn’t been a crash like that since 2014. And the last time it happened, he didn’t make it. I was honestly preparing myself for the worst.”

Max shrugged his shoulders, trying to be nonchalant. Yet, anyone could see that his hands were shaking just a bit, his fingers picking at his skin.

“She just wouldn’t answer. And then they got Arthur Leclerc on the radio, thinking that he could get to her. Even then, she didn’t respond for what felt like hours. We were all waiting, on the pit lane, just hoping that she’d start talking soon.”

“What did it feel like for you in the car?”

The female was back in the seat.

“All I really remember was seeing the sky and the grass as I rolled, and then nothing. I had totally blacked out. When I was coming to, I just remember hearing so much through the radio, I didn’t know what to make of it. I think I laughed as I answered. I was just happy to be alive.”

“We know that was your first DNF. Thankfully the second wasn’t as bad.”

“No kidding,” she laughed. “My car just doesn’t have very good balance.”

“You’ve had lots of podiums. Which one was the most fulfilling?”

The girl looked up in thought. Her eyes narrowed, truly going over her options. She didn’t want to have to talk about certain matters, but she didn’t want it to be brought up later.

She answered, “Imola.”

“What was so special or daunting because of it?”

The blond harshly inhaled, before smirking a bit. “Well, lot of people knew how it ended.”

The scene changes to multiple police cars around the paddock. The camera barely caught a glimpse of two people being let away in handcuff before panning over to the group of drivers. The lens zoomed in on your face, a big bruise forming by your eye. Max was standing protectively near you as Christian was still yelling at the people in the car. The other drivers can be seen hovering around the scene.

Max gulped before he sighed.

“I knew it was bad, but not this bad. I’m just glad that I had gotten to her in time.”

The female stretched. “Except I got a trophy out of it, so, I wasn’t too sad.”

The scene changes to the next race, where most of the drivers were waiting for the parade. They could tell that someone was missing. Except, right when Lando was about to bring it up, you walked in. Sunglasses were on your eyes, trying to hide the ugly yellow and purple blotch on your face. Except, it didn’t do too much to actually hide it.

“Afternoon,” you said, sipping on a drink that you brought. Your fingers took off your glasses, multiple drivers wincing. “It’s not that bad.”

Lando rolled his eyes before muttering, “They shouldn’t have been allowed back in.”

Max handed you an icepack, which you grabbed immediately. Logan brought you into a side hug and let you rest against him.

The Dutchman let everyone know that you had finally gotten your restraining order approved. Smiles adorned the rest of the drivers’ faces at the news.

An older Aussie was now in the seat.

“I wasn’t there when she met everyone. But I watched Max let her follow him, in Vegas. It was cute, ‘cause I’ve never seen Max act like that before. But she’ s been a good teammate to him. Not trying to be rude, but I’m also putting myself down when I say this: she has been the best teammate that Max has ever had.”

The scene changes to you and Max in a car on the way to a race. The two of you are seated next to each other and phones are in your hands. A sudden gasp from you has you reaching over to Max, your hand smacking his chest.

The Dutchman winces. “What?”

“Taylor Swift broke up with Travis Kelce. Fernando has his chance.”

Viewers would have thought that Max would seem uninterested, but his eyes widened and he was suddenly leaning over, trying to get a good look at your phone.

“You’re lying.”

“No I’m not. See?” You just handed your phone over and Max was instantly enthralled with the device, fingers scrolling quickly.

“It’s definitely like they have a competitive sibling relationship.”

Max watched as you were talking to Oscar, the afternoon after you hit his car. Max smirked as he walked past and bumped you on purpose. Your head whipped around, trying to find who did that. Once you saw Max’s shoulders shake as he walked away, it was over. You quickly said goodbye to Oscar before running up to Max.

What he did not expect was for you to jump on his back, almost sending him face first into cement. He stumbled but his arms were quick to grab your legs. Your giggles were loud next to his ear, but Max guessed that he’d let you stay.

“I know for a fact that it’s been good to see Max a bit more carefree. Y/n really brings out the good in him. She really does that to everyone though.”

Rain was pouring down in Brazil, due to a hurricane in the area. The race had been canceled and Max was just chilling in the garage. His eyes caught your figure walking out into the downpour. He watched as you just stood there, getting drenched. That was until you started dancing to no music at all.

Max got up from his seat and walked over to a manager.

“May I?” he asked, the manager nodding his head.

He plugged his phone into a jack and clicked on a specific playlist that the two of you had made together. Normally, it would be playing while the two of you warmed up to get ready in the car. But now it was playing as you continued to dance.

Max quickly joined you and bumped you with his hip. The cameras caught you looking up at your older teammate, whose body was quickly getting drenched. Before long, the two of you were dancing in the rain.

And very possibly, the other drivers joined in too.

“She really cares for him. It was like they met and clicked right away.”

Clips of you and Max filled the screen. Walking together in the paddock, signing things for fans, doing stupid things for media day, congratulating each other after races.

It showed you checking on him after a DNF, wanting a legitimate answer if he was okay or not. Once Max gave the thumbs up and Mitch told you that he was, the cameras in your car showed how your body visibly relaxed after know that he was ok.

“Sure, they’ve had their troubles.”

The scene changes to Max passing you in Monaco.

Your voice was heard over the scene. “What an asshole.”

The scene changed to you not letting Max pass and him hitting the back of your RB20 in Belgium.

“That was a rookie mistake.”

The viewers knew that they had deliberately cut a certain action out of the scene, but it was something that they were actually thankful that Netflix cut.

“But they always apologize and get back to it. I think that’s how she got her first win. She needed to know that they could truly work as a team.”

The scene showed you and Max giving each other a big hug in The Netherlands after Max won the Dutch Grand Prix.

The scene changes once more.

“How was it? Winning in the city of red.”

“Words cannot express.”

The screen showed you walking in on that fateful morning, bright orange car in the background. You waved to the crowds, who seemed to get louder with your attention. Your smile brightly shone as you kept walking, only stopping momentarily for a few autographs and pictures.

“Y/n L/n On Pole in Monza – Youngest Pole Sitter in F1 History”

“There she goes! Y/n L/n has won the 2024 Italian Grand Prix. She was starving, but now she’s been satiated. The youngest pole sitter and turned that into a win.”

“Y/n L/n – First Female To Ever Win a Formula 1 Grand Prix”

"Y/n L/n Hailed as 'The Long Awaited' by Italian Fans"

The camera pans to the girl standing on the nose of her car, hands stretched up reaching for the sky. Max, who had DNF earlier, came over. She grasped him tightly, legs around his waist. Christian was behind them, joining in the celebrations. Soon, the entirety of the crew got over the barrier and flooded the area. The two Ferrari drivers, in a respectable P2 and P3, watched as the female driver was almost covered by people. If it wasn’t them, then they were glad it was her.

The blond returned back to the seat.

“Let me tell you, the after party was probably my favorite part of the weekend. Well, besides the winning part.”

“After Monza, how did the rest of the season go.”

“Well, I did go on to win 3 more races.” The girl smirked.

Clips of the number 89 car crossing the finish line cover the screen.

“Y/n L/n takes her second win of the season after Monza in Mexico!

It showed you waving to the crowds of Mexico, flag draped over your shoulders with a sombrero on your head..

“A homecoming of sorts, Y/n L/n wins a third race under the lights of Las Vegas!

Your fists were clenched as you shook them while your knees were bent. The while Elvis suit kind of glowed against the night sky.

“L/n wins her fourth race of the season in Abu Dhabi. Ending a perfect rookie year on a high!”

The crowds watch you get on your hands and knees before your car. Your hands outstretched in almost a mock bow to the machine.

The scenes show the you hoisting up three more trophies, all while pointing to the sky after each one.

The interviewer looked down at their questions, before glancing back up at the girl.

“What was your worst race? One that you didn’t DNF.”

The girl didn’t even hesitate. “Qatar.”

“Why is that?”

She shrugged. “I thought it would be cooler.”

The screen goes black, but then changes to a very busy scene. People could see medical personelle holding onto a driver by their arms. Their legs all but dragged along the concrete. Lights flashed around as they brought her to a makeshift cot. Her helmet was ripped off along with the cloth under it. You gasped as you tried to catch your breath. Your cheeks were red and your hair matted with sweat.

“I need an IV and cooling towels now!”

“Her blood pressure is dropping, she’s going to pass out again.”

“Hey, you need to stay awake. Do not close your eyes.”

“Her breath is more shallow, she needs to cool down. Get buckets of ice and water.”

It changes to a podium, but only two drivers are present. It was supposed to be a Papaya sandwich after Oscar had gotten his first actual race win. They looked worried and barely stayed for the celebrations.

The cameras followed as the orange drivers as they ran to the Red Bull garage once the podium was finished. They expected to see you still unconscious, since that was the last they heard before the podium. Yet, they were surprised to see you upright and smiley. An IV was connected to your arm, but you were awake.

Oscar ran, before wrapping his arms around you.

“Do not do that again. I can’t believe that you kept racing.”

You smiled up at him and Lando.

“What can I say? I’m indestructible.”

“She’s impressive.” A German voices his opinion now that he’s in the seats. “I don’t wish to say it, but I’m glad she’s at the different team. I don’t know if we would have been able to give her the car that she needed.”

The interviewer looks a Toto for a moment, before continuing. “You think she’ll leave Red Bull at some point in her career?”

The Mercedes Team Principal shakes his head. “No. She’s going to stay until she retires. I’m sure of it. But who am I to talk about staying with a team forever.”

The scene changes to you and Max, both casually hanging out. You sighed as you looked down at your phone. Max quirked an eyebrow, but stayed silent, giving you the go ahead to spill.

“They’re asking again if I’m going to be staying past 2026.” Your arms waved around before you huffed and they fell at your sides.

The Dutchman rolled his eyes. “Are you wanting to stay past that?”

You grinned at the older driver. “Can’t go anywhere when I have the best here.”

The scene changes to the blond female Red Bull racer, back in the chair once again.

“Do you think you’ll ever move teams?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think I will. It seems that every racer’s dream is to drive for the team in red, but not mine. I’ve always wanted to just race for the team that will get me places, and I think that Red Bull can stay on top for many years to come.”

The interviewer continued. “What do you think you’ll do after Formula 1.”

She smirked.

“After, I want to collect. I’m thinking the triple crown. Probably go to endurance racing and then 1 year of Indy. I know I’ll be able to do it.”

“If you could have your dream team for Le Mans, who would it be?”

“Either Leclerc in addition to Max. I don’t think I could be anyone else’s teammate ever.”

Clips of Charles, Arthur, Y/n, and Max showed on the screen. They might look like an odd bunch, but they worked somehow. Arthur had been promoted at the end of 2024 to actually drive for Porsche in the 2025 Qatar endurance race. Late in the editing, they were able to sneak in a clip of the four of you celebrating after he podiumed.

“So, we heard that you and Max were able to sign new contracts at the end of 2024. How long are the both of you going to stay.”

The girl thought for a moment, trying to think of how to word it correctly.

“Well, we both have kind of open ended contracts like Charles signed in early 2024. Christian said that he’ll do his best to keep us there, but we aren’t bound. I plan to stay for a while and so does Max if they keep giving us good cars that can still dominate.”

“Do you plan to break any more records? You sure had a lot in the past season as well as early years.”

“How many do I have?” she asked.

The interviewer counted. “Five.”

She smirked for the final time for the episode. “Five? That’s hardly enough. Let’s make it interesting and get 6.”

Everyone in the room laughed at her joke.

The screen cut to black and the episode ended. Yet when the female racer retired, they went back and added one more thing.

“Y/n L/n went on to be the most decorated racer of all time. She ended up breaking 22 records in the duration of her entire motorsport career, that no one has been able to touch since.”

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jayswhorex · 1 month

Text

guns & roses 🥀

ak!jason todd x f!reader

here's part 2

his skin slapped against yours, giving you rough thrusts every second. Your nails digged into his shirt while your legs were hooked around his waist. you held on tightly as the red hood fucked you up against the wall of one of his safe houses. "can't believe you're taking my cock like this, even after you've cum, how many times is it now?" you weren't sure how you ended up in this position but you weren't complaining especially when his cock felt so good. your bra was practically falling off and you had no clue where your underwear was. his pants were at his ankles and his holsters were on the floor. you couldn't deny sex with him was messy but it was so worth it. "oh fuck you, just shut up and keep fucking me, that's your job isn't it?"

you felt his thrusts pick a sloppy and desperate rhythm, one you'd felt many times. "you want me to shut up or you wanna get fucked like a slut? you only get one" his groans became louder and he looked up at you, practically locking eyes with you. if his helmet hadn't been on, you'd probably find this intimate but this was nothing like that. this was his way of reminding you, that you were his whore, nothing more. just fuckbuddies, for each other mutual release. work had taken a big toll on you and the red hood would never tell you was bothering him but you always saw the effect of it when he fucked you.

your moans became a mixture of begging for him to stop but also begging for more. "red can't take no more- oh fuck! harder harder harder! please red" he was big, if you didn't already know, and he barely fit in you the first few times. but once you started to take him more & more often, he made sure that he'd bottom out in you every time. if you could take all of him, why wouldn't he take advantage of it?

he let a couple of frustrated groans, swearing at you constantly but you loved it. you knew he was stressed and frustrated and had so much pent up inside him, you were goddamn release. so he'd fuck you any way he liked, as long he to make of you. out of everything, you were the one thing the red hood could control in his life and he needed that. "just fucking shut up and take it, baby, we play this little game every week and it always ends with you begging for more" his hands move towards your ass, gripping it tightly, pulling you even closer to him, so he could fuck you just the way you wanted. "ohhhh god! i'm gonna cum red, m'gonna make a mess" you slurred, being drunk on just his cock.

"good girl, cum f'me like my little whore, then i can paint your thighs for you," he said while pounding you into the wall. your face was stained with tears, you could barely catch your break and everything felt so good and bad at the same time. you weren't sure if it was his words or the way he grabbed his face and forced you to look at him but you practically came on the spot and the red hood followed as he quickly pulled out of you.

you whined at the empty feeling of a lack of warmth, while he spilled his poad onto your thighs, painting your thighs with his load. the red hood wasn't going to be risky with you especially when you didn't know him that well.

except you did. but he didn't want to remember those times.

he got you a towel to clean yourself up and you placed your hands on his shoulders trying to steady yourself. the red hood made a grunting sound in annoyance and that quickly made you let go of him. he pulled up his black jeans and grabbed his holsters along with them.

the grunt had snapped you back into reality. you quickly began to grab your clothing that had been flung around while also putting it back on. you searched everywhere for your underwear but couldn't manage to find it and accepted defeat. this wasn't the first time you'd lose clothing because of this man and you hated it. the two of you hated each other, whatever you had was just for sex, well it was supposed to be just for sex. you don't even know the man's identity or what he looked like, but that doesn't stop your desire for him.

the red hood made himself comfy on what seemed to be his bed. he took off his holster and removed the gun, unloading it before placing it in a locked drawer. you watched him contemplate taking off his helmet in from you but he quickly redacted his hands from his head. he needed you to pray soon, not just cause he wanted to take off his helmet but also because he didn't need you snooping around this place. you'd find a lot of things you weren't ready for. your eyes focused on the bed, something about how messy it was caught your eye. it was messy enough that maybe two people had been in it…

you knew you couldn't possibly be the only one he's fucking. but it didn't bother you any less, you'd think he'd have the decency to clean up when he invites you over but he doesn't. another annoyed grunt leaves his lips, as he looks up, with his helmet still on. "you plan on staring for the rest of the night or what?" his voice was deep and strained like it was trained to talk that way. he knew you had been staring at the bed, and he knew why but there was no point in teasing you now.

"don't be a fucking ass, i'm just about to and you were the one who dragged me here dickhead"

"yeah, for a fuck" he said followed by a laugh, "i think it's time for you to go home"

"next time how about you call one of your other whores, i've got an actual life unlike you who goes around this city playing pretend" you knew the moment those words left your mouth, that you were fucked and not in a good way. you planned to quickly get out the door but you weren't quick enough. he slammed the door shut and locked it, trapping you in the middle.

"you think what i do doll, is for fun? that's it's a game?" he asks grabbing your face and forcing you to face him again. once again he was in control of you, putting this barrier between the two of you by wearing his helmet yet forcing you to face him. he chuckled and for a moment you caught a small glimpse of who might be behind the mask but that was quickly shut down when he asked you another question "you think that i just bring home every girl on the street huh? that there are 'other whores'?"

"yeah i do, you're more than a whore than i am- "

"if you value your life i’d choose those next words carefully y/n"

your name came out of his lips like it was a sin. he wasn't supposed to know that, he wasn't supposed to know you at all.

"you don't know a fucking thing about me, you're just some faceless vigilante who has a thing for every girl he manages to pick on the street"

"i know more about you than you could possibly imagine," he says grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from the door. the way he held your wrist wasn't even tight like he wasn't dragging you like he usually would. in other words, he gave you the opportunity to run away but you didn't because this relationship you had with him was addicting and you kind of wanted to see how you'd be punished. "you want to do it on the bed right?"

he's pushing you onto the bed and you know you're in trouble cause how tf did he know? he wasn't a mind reader because if he was he would've let you go home by now. you weren't even shocked that he suggested but more that he knew that that's what you wanted. the two of you rarely even spoke casually and even when you did you didn't expect to listen or pay attention but he did and on his own accord too. the red hood knew just what you wanted from him, but he had to hear it from you if you were going to get it. "but you gotta say it doll"

"say what red?"

"that you're a jealous doll and if you do, i might just fuck you in the bed if it's that special to you" he knew what he wanted from you and you wanted from him. you may hate each other but deep down there was always going to be something else mixed in with those feelings. and one day he'd have to tell you why but that day is very far away. you didn't want to answer him but he called you sweetheart and promised to fuck you in his bed, how could you say no to such a rare offer?

"…m jealous," you said quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. the red hood didn't know why you were jealous and he didn't really care why yet it still excited him. and before you knew it, he's fucking you into the bed. the bed creaked as he pushed your body deeper in the bed, holding onto your hips as if his life depended on it. he had you on your tummy, fucking you from behind like his personal fuck today. you don't even remember him taking off your clothes again or if he'd even let you go home tonight but that didn't matter because this was the routine.

fuck. fight. fuck again harder.

this relationship you had with the red hood was wrong on so many levels and it was toxic, you knew that but you were going to stay. yes, you hated how much he reminded you of him. because he was gone and he was never going to come back and you had finally come to terms with that only for the red hood to reopen that wound. as much as you hated the red hood and as toxic as this relationship was, you wanted to be special to him because of the past and maybe that's why you wouldn't leave and he wouldn't even let you if you wanted to.

753 notes · View notes

charles-leclerizz · 2 months

Text

🏎️ ๋࣭ ⭑ flustered tweets

🏁 Pairings : Max Verstappen X fem!Reader

🏁 Warnings : suggestive sexual themes, touching, kissing, licking etc. no explicit content, swearing, Daniel Ricciardo being a menace.

🏁 Word Count : 3.3k words (3352 words)

🏁 Author's note : First suggestive conntent on this blog! woo-hoo, light the fireworks. But I do hope you enjoy and as always please leave a comment or reblog, since they do fuel my motivation. <3 Note that word dividers are by @cottage-writings and as always, translations are available via radio comm.

🏁 Music player : Love by Lana Del Ray

You smile to yourself as you stare at your television screen, the metallic box was currently projecting your boyfriend’s face, post-race, red faced and sweaty. Positively gorgeous. His blonde hair was mused due to his helmet and droplets of water leaked down from the strands to his forehead, trickling down his temple to his chin where they dripped down to his fire-proofs. It was nearing the end of the interview, and that meant his favourite questions would begin to pop up, the personal ones.

“So Max, how’s the missus doing? Based off her Instagram it looks like you both are very happy.” The man holding the microphone smiled at the driver, who rolled his eyes playfully at the memory of the multitude of stories that you would post by the hour, in fact he was 99% sure that you had posted at least 5 whilst he was in the car.

“Yeah well, it’s a dream being with her, it really feels like I’m on cloud 9.” He gushed, a rare occurrence for the notoriously grumpy man, but as soon as you were brought up in conversation, it was as though he was a wilting sunflower that was just introduced to sunlight, “I’m doing all of this for her.” Max admitted bashfully.

“Well, if that isn’t proof of the it couple on the grid, then I don’t know what is.” The interviewer admitted, grinning at the lovesick expression on your boyfriend’s face, “But before I let you go, the fans were in uproar a few days before the race. Based on a tweet made by a fellow driver on the grid.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, as if his humorous actions would jog Max’s memory.

You, on the other hand, knew exactly of the tweet Mark, as he introduced himself as, was talking of. It was tweeted by none other than Daniel Ricciardo, the cheeky bastard decided to divulge the fans with a tidbit of information about Max and your sex life.

Just walked into the 2-time WDC and his girlfriend doing it like bunnies. Somehow, this man is never embarrassed.

You remember that day like no-other, it was the moment after the Spanish Grand Prix and Max had just won.

“I’m so proud of you,” You breathed against his lips, holding his face between your palms as your fingers fisted his hair, close enough to the root that he groaned outwardly. The scent of victory wafted from him as one of your hands snaked down between the two of you to unzip his race suit. Allowing you to push him against the hotel room wall and move down to lick thick, wet stripes against his pulse point, revelling in the taste of fresh champagne.

“heilige shit,” he breathed out, gnawing at his bottom lip whilst the hands that rested on your waist tightened and bruised his fingerprints against your skin.

“Geliefde.” Max whispered, bringing his left hand up to grip the nape of your neck and guide your face away from the fifth fresh hickey you were creating on his muscle, towards his own, gazing into your eyes with a heavy stare.

“Yeah?” You answer, blinking rapidly to clear the misty haze that overtook your brain, all you could think of was the delicious way that his suit hung low from his hips and how tight his fireproofs were, exaggerating his muscular pecs that strained against the protective layer.

His chest rose and fell rapidly as you scratched your nails lightly down his scalp towards his thick collar that stuck to his body, “Maxie?” You prompt, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

He chuckled at your act, wrapping a large hand around your neck and squeezing gently at the sides, just enough for you to gasp, “What do you think the press will say huh? My girlfriend got too horny watching me win?” He guided you towards the freshly made bed, pushing you down to a sitting position as your knees hit the back of the padded mattress, “It’s okay though, mijn mooie vriendin-“ He paused, moving his hand up to cup your jaw and pull at your lower lip, parting your mouth until you obediently allowed him to slip his thumb in, “I only do this for you.” He murmured.

Max nudged you further, watching contently as you fell onto your back, sinking into the thick blanket and released his thumb with a loud pop. You laugh a little at his proclamation, “Really? You do this for me?” You bite your lip, fiddling with the comforter beneath your fingertips, pushing off from the bed as you anchor yourself on your elbows.

“You doubt me?” He arches an incredulous eyebrow at you, bending down to part your knees, “dat zal niet lukken.” He murmured, getting down onto his knees to hook your thigh onto his shoulder, allowing him to twist his head and kiss the sensitive skin, “What should I do to prove it to you? Huh?”

Max chuckled as you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts, pushing them down suggestively and he would’ve given into your request had it not been for the interruption.

“HEYYY CHAMP-“The friendly boisterous voice of a certain Australian rang through your hotel room, causing you to jump and grip your boyfriends head, which had merely jolted slightly before coming to rest against your opposite thigh, uninterested.

“Daniel.” Max deadpanned, his cerulean eyes merely slackened, cracking a lazy smile as his friend stopped in his tracks, blocking the door from what seemed to be at least half of the grid, “Must you really bother me?”

“Sorry man,” you heard Lewis call out, chuckling loudly as a familiar French cackle sounded off after a lewd comment sounding like, “damn he’s pussy-whipped”. You whimpered with embarrassment, falling back against the bed as you covered your face, hiding the blotchy blush that covered your face.

“Max” You whined, twitching your leg so that he could get up and most likely go out to celebrate, “Get up, we can continue this later.” You assured him, already imagining the dress that you would wear.

“See what you did wankers?” He called out, barely lifting himself up, “Made my girl embarrassed.” He admonished his colleagues. Max looked up at you, cooing at your red face, “It’s okay, Mijn liefje. I’ll get them to leave.”

“Guys lets go” Lando called out, “Let the guy get his dick wet.”

“Ew gross.”

“Not my fault you’re single fuck-face.”

You groaned, “Guys!” The crowd settled at the sound of your harsh, crackly voice, “It’s fine, let us at least get ready?”

“Yes ma’am” Charles shouted, which was soon followed with sounds of violence and pathetic groans.

Max kissed your cheek, getting up from the floor to go and slam the door in the few faces, but before you could hear the satisfying wood beat against the hinges, Daniel had whispered, “How the fuck are you not embarrassed?” Which prompted more snickers and a flurry of agreements about your lover’s lack of humiliation.

“You should be embarrassed ass wipe.” Max chuckled as he pushed the group out of the doorway, “Walked in on me about to get the best meal money could never buy.”

If you thought about it too much the humiliation would creep back in, along with the curiosity.

Later that same evening, when your friends and you had gone out for dinner, your face was still flushed and any thought that led back to that moment in the hotel room would lead to you shaking your head promptly and diving back into conversation. Whereas Max was comfortably seated next to you, chatting happily as he sipped more alcohol from the flute by his porcelain plate whilst his free hand rested on your thigh, slipped underneath the silky material of your sundress.

It was as if the moment never happened and he was already fantasising about getting you back into the room, ready to bend you into different positions that would make your legs shake hard enough into next Sunday. He did infact, manage that.

Max laughed on your television screen, turning to look at Daniel, who was animatedly doing his own interview, “Yeah well, it’s hard to embarrass me,” he inhaled sharply through his teeth as he shrugged nonchalantly, “It really was just an inchident.”

Max winked cheekily at the camera as Mark laughed and patted his shoulder, “Nice to see Max, have a good one,”

“You too,”

You huffed out with amusement as you pointed the remote at the screen a certain calm filling the apartment as the light blinked away from the box in front of you. The sun was slowly setting on the streets of Monaco, a subtle signal that meant that your boyfriend would soon be returning home to you. Max would claim that home was where you were, but you could tell that the large penthouse was probably the closest alternative to the driver, it was a joint investment as a couple, the first of many and it was beloved by both of you.

Large windows that overlooked the high-end shopping district which curved with the positioning of the building, an oblong shape that influenced the soft edges of the entire apartment. The home was out of your Pinterest board, soft plush coaches and tall glass vases that littered every free surface, Max had claimed 2 of the 4 bedrooms, one of them being his office and the other being his specialist home gym. The third was saved for guests and the fourth, that resided on a separate floor; took over the entire area and was your shared bedroom. Luckily on his and your salary, the home was merely a drop in the ocean, along with the numerous pretty pennies you spent on furniture.

It was in other words, your baby.

Jimmy and Sassy slinked between your legs as you walked to the kitchen from your spot on the largest couch that was turned inwards to face the TV that was mounted within the ceiling, dropping down mechanically at the push of a button and retreating into the seemingly solid concrete at another. You had done exactly that, dismissing the piece of tech to show off the full-length balcony. Cooing at your fur-children you picked them up in one hand, “Come on guys, let’s finish dinner,” You kissed their heads, chuckling as they nuzzled into your face before letting them down on the floor in front of the sink when you went to put on a pair of gloves and fish out dinner from the oven.

The tell-tale chime of your elevator and the mechanical tone of the keypad informed you that Max was home, along with the cats going off to welcome their father from a long day of work,

“Hey guys,” you heard him greet the children whilst he kicked off his shoes and tucked them along with his jacket into the small cupboard that sat within the wall in the entrance hall. You turned away from the oven, placing the entire grill onto the kitchen island as you huffed happily at the dish within the Tupperware as Max walked further into the house and towards the kitchen, where you stood patiently, the soft sounds of the Vitamin String Quartet playing in the background.

“Hey, schat,” He murmured, eyes softening at the corners as he rushed to your side, tugging you away from the counter to wrap his hands around your and bury his head into your neck. You giggle at the tickle of his hair against your skin and bring your hands down to cover his that were wrapped around you, “Hello my love,” you whisper, turning your head slightly to kiss his forehead.

“You cooked,” He stated happily, smiling against you.

“I did.”

“I’m happy,” He confirmed, removing himself from your neck whilst keeping a firm hold on your waist, “How was work?”

“Same old same old, people want to invest in stocks, I do it for them. Very boring.” You rush through your day, recounting the odd events that went on in the office, “But I saw your interview, watched it on the archive.”

“Hmm,” He hummed, knowing that when you do watch the interviews, you normally do it to hear his voice and see his absurdly attractive post-race glow, not listen to the odd mechanical language and repeated statements of, “-push the car harder next race.” Or “-really disappointed this time.”

“Heard what you said about that tweet Daniel made,” You feel him kiss the skin behind your ear before snorting.

“What else could I say? Man doesn’t think before tweeting.” Max grumbled.

“Made me think-“

“Oh no.”

“Stop it.”

“Okay,”

“Anyway, made me think that I actually have never seen you blush.”

“I’m sure you have,” He assured you, untangling himself from you to get a chilled water bottle from the fridge behind you. You twist your body around, leaning back against the counter to watch his movements with squinted eyes.

“Hmm,” You tap your chin for a few seconds, “Nope, never.”

“Schat, it’s been almost two years,” He paused to crack off the top of the bottle, “I am positive you’ve seen me blush. And even if you haven’t, it’s no big deal.”

You huffed and crossed your arms childishly, “But I’m your girlfriend!” You reached out with your hands to grab his own slutty-man waist.

“Thanks for the reminder, had het anders niet geweten,” Max chuckled, allowing you to pull him by the waist to rest his abdomen just above yours.

“It’s a big deal Maxie, I’m meant to be able to make you blush,” You pouted up at him, scratching your nails up his spine, grinning as he shivered against your hold.

He took a final gulp from his bottle before minutely shifting to press harshly against a cupboard to reveal a hidden bin that popped out at his commend. Max dropped the empty plastic into the metallic cylinder and pushed the sliding contraption in again. He turned back to you, focussing on your large unblinking eyes and wet, pouting lips.

He held your face tenderly, kissing your forehead with his own, “S’okay schat, somethings just aren’t meant to happen.”

You pull away at his statement.

Like hell it won’t

“Nope, that won’t do,” You tug at his arm, guiding him into the separate dining room, a large area that was painted an off-white creamy colour, containing a brass sputnik chandelier that hung low against the white marble dining table which had at least 12 separate chairs tucked beneath its oval body. You pulled at the upholstered chair and dug your hand into the tactile Borg fabric before seating Max, who patiently trailed behind you whilst holding the separate doors open, allowing you to execute your plan perfectly.

You stood in front of the man, who was sat with his legs spread graciously in front of him with his large palms splayed against his slightly-less than normal skinny jeans. It was going to hard, yes. Harder than a diamond heist, to extract the long sought over blush from this well practiced stoic man. But you were determined.

Starting easily, you planted your hands on the arms of the chair and leaned forward, close enough that your noses were touching and lips ghosting over each other’s.

“What about this?” You whispered, eyes fluttering closed as you could begin to feel the small grooves and indents of his lips against yours along with his tongue licking at your bottom lip.

“Don’t think so, love.” He murmured back, laughing heartily when you groaned and pushed at his chest.

“Ok that’s it, take it off.” You folded your arms, tapping your foot impatiently.

“Woah, at least buy me dinner first?” Max’s eyes widened as you growled playfully and tugged at the hem of his branded red-bull shirt, “O-Okay okay, chill out you horny demon.”

“Good,” You huff, undoing the buttons of your light blue shirt, until you stood in just your bra and a long pair of silky lounge-wear pants, “We aren’t leaving here until you blush at least once.” You promised him, grinning manically when he stared at your chest.

You re-started once again, barely brushing your lips against the shell of his ear, smiling to yourself when his breath hitched and he groaned, “Anything?” You breathe out, licking slowly, lustfully at the sensitive skin between his ear and the nape of his neck.

“No,” Max denied, squeezing his eyes shut when you took the skin of his collar bone between your lips, sucking lavishly until you were sure of a dark blue love bite before moving inwards, littering the pale canvas with your marks.

“Come on Maxie, you know you want to,” You crooned moving further down, until your face was between his pecs and your hands were braced against the muscles, you dug your nails into his skin before dragging them slowly downwards whilst keeping your eyes locked with his, waiting for the victorious rosy tint to paint his face.

No luck.

“Maybe we should just give up? I can think of a lot of things I can do,” He just barely moaned out from between heavy pants whilst your mouth had made its way to his navel, leaving a wet trail in its wake. You shook your head slightly, flicking your eyes down to where your tongue lay flat against his stomach, “Are you fucking kidding me?” You complained, biting his abs.

“What? I can’t help it,” He defended, holding his arms up innocently before clenching his jaw shut when you began to fiddle with the button of his jeans.

“Yeah?” You challenge, getting up from the tiled floor to swing one leg to one side of his waist while the other sat on the opposite side, allowing you to straddle him and sit directly on his crotch whilst raising an eyebrow at his rolled back eyes.

“What about now Maxie?”

You winded your hips once. Twice. Until he came to hold your love-handles with a tight, possessive grip. Max leaned up, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, you whimpered when one of his hands slipped beneath your pants to snap the elastic of your underwear.

You pulled away, burring your hands in his hair and letting the soft strands flow through your fingers, “What about now?” You murmur, pushing yourself against his palm whilst arching your back. He hissed, smirking at your determination.

“Nope.” He removed both hands from your body to fold them behind his head and lean back, “Now what, schat?”

You slumped down and pulled at your bra strap contemplatively, “Dinner.” You stated simply, clambering out of his lap.

“That’s what I tho- wait why are your clothes on?” He asked you incredulously, pointing at the significant tent in his jeans.

“Max Emillian Verstappen I put a lot of effort into dinner tonight,” You scolded him with your pointer finger as you slipped on your shirt, leaving the buttons undone.

“W-what the-“ He spluttered reaching for your hand, “Seriously don’t do this,” he whined, adjusting his jeans with an uncomfortable expression.

“That’s what you get.” You shrugged, leaving him in the dining room, not before you bent down in front of him- swaying your hips suggestively as you collected his shirt from the floor and throwing it at him, “Don’t come out without your shirt on.”

The door slowly creaked shut, leaving Max still shirtless, flabbergasted at his inability to blush.

Well, not really.

He groaned loudly, balling up his shirt to hide the angry red flush that creeped up his cheeks and took over the entirety of his chest, ears and neck.

“HAH!” You called out, re-emerging from the door with a bang, “I KNEW IT.” You had your phone in your hand, displaying a perfect picture of his flustered state, the blonde was buried within his team’s shirt and was very obviously scarlet, “NOW THE WORLD WILL KNOW!” You shouted victoriously, jumping up and down in your spot, shirt still unbuttoned.

You squealed when Max jumped and growled at you, “Get back here, I’ll give you something to tweet about.”

📻 Kcccchh.... come in.... come in...translatiion available...over

📻 Kchh...Dutch....to english....over

heilige shit - Holy shit

Geliefde - Love [r]

mijn mooie vriendin - my beautiful girlfriend

dat zal niet lukken - that won't work

Mijn liefje - My darling

schat - Darling/Love/Babe [term of endearment]

had het anders niet geweten - wouldn't have known otherwise

936 notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Text

Not A Verstappen: Sibling Rivalry {1}

Pairing: F1 drivers (platonic) x fem!reader Summary: A little crack!fic as a driver!reader who is Max's little half-sister. Warnings: 18+ only, lots of bad language, protective big brother, sibling antics, daddy issues. WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three

There was nothing that irked you more than being called a Verstappen. Yes, you were Max’s sister, but that was where the relationship with the name ended. Your sperm donor, as you publicly referred to Jos, had never been a part of your life and that was one blessing you were thankful for.

Somehow the bastard's genetics had won and that stupid racer’s blood ran in your veins. You liked to go fast. Your mother said that you could run before you could walk and the same went for driving. At 17 years old you had your super licence before your drivers licence, making it legal to drive at 200 mph around a circuit with insane corners but not 30 mph on the street.

Something about that seemed…odd.

It was worth it in the end. You could still remember the look on Jos’ face when you signed for Alpha Tauri. Oh, how the bastard had tried to credit himself with your achievement. But there were more similarities that you shared with your half sibling than you were willing to admit. One of those shared traits was brutal honesty. And you had let your honest thoughts fly when Jos opened his mouth.

Three years later the sperm donor was still bitter. He would surely have to get used to it, especially since you had just been named as a Red Bull driver, alongside Max.

Round One - Bahrain 2022 “This is a historical first, siblings racing together on the same team,” Ted Kravitz said as he walked along the pit, stopping outside Red Bull’s garage. “The two Verstappen's will be fighting each other for the Driver Championship, once again, while simultaneously working together to win the Constructors Championship. A very, very exciting season ahead I can already tell.”

You had been pulling your helmet on, about to climb into the RB18 when you heard the comment. The short temper you were well known for flared and you sauntered into the pit lane. “Hey, Ted Crapitz,” you called out as he stood writing in that little notepad of his.

He looked up a little stunned and his eyes darted at the camera that was always following him around. “It’s, uh, Kravitz.”

“Oh, my apologies, I thought it was just normal to make up offensive surnames. No?” you asked as you arched an eyebrow at him. “Because Verstappen isn’t mine, so don’t ever call me that again.”

“S-sorry, my mistake,” he stammered, but you were already shoving your helmet on and grabbing the halo to climb into your car. “A bit of a slap on the wrist for me there.”

You had no doubt that the video would go viral and the comments would call you a bitch but you didn’t care. Jos was a piece of shit and your mother didn’t raise you all on her own, working two jobs to pay for your karting years, just for you to be called a fucking Verstappen.

There was no better feeling than pulling out of the garage and heading to the track. The finely tuned car purred beneath you and you could feel the restrained power of it just waiting for you to pass the pit marker so you could push the throttle and free the beast you had worked hard to control.

“Radio check,” your engineer, Nicholas, ordered through the headset.

“Tell big bro to keep his mouth closed during the race. It can’t be healthy to eat my dust.”

“Understood.”

The jeroboam size bottle of Ferrari Trento looked enormous in your hands as you shook it up and sprayed Charles and Carlos back after drenching you first. You may have been on the bottom step of the podium but you celebrated as if you had taken 1st place. Turning the bottle on the crowd, you spotted Max at the front with a wide grin on his face as he cheered with the rest of Red Bull.

It was a little disappointing that he had DNF’d but there was always next week to battle it out again. In the meantime you enjoyed the adrenaline of the podium finish and the image of Jos standing to the side with a face like a slapped ass. It was a feeling you could definitely get used to.

Round Eleven - Great Britain 2022 The leaderboard changed almost every week, flipping like hotcakes between you and Max. It was labelled as sibling rivalry, and for once the media got it right. Though you hadn’t grown up with Max there was an innate need to know who was better, who could push the limits harder and who could get away with it. Some weeks it was you, some weeks it wasn’t. It was all part of the fun.

Fun. Now that was something that came in spades. The camaraderie that came with the competitiveness was always something you enjoyed moving up from F3 and F2 before reaching F1. With only 19 other people sharing the same experience with you, it was impossible not to grow close to them.

“Can you let Max in front today?” Lando asked as you walked along the grid. “Please?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because he’d rather look at your ass than Max’s, if he can hold third place.” You turned to the other McLaren driver to see a grin splitting the Australian’s face.

“Aww, Lando, the real English gentleman,” you tutted sarcastically as you pulled your balaclava off your shoulder and snickered when it slapped Lando across the back of his head.

“Unnecessary violence, Spitfire,” he gasped before muttering under his breath, “I know who you get that from.”

A growl pulled back your lips and you punched him none too softly in the bicep, which was a double edged sword because it was far harder than you were expecting and you felt the hit in your knuckles.

“Oh, Lando, Lando, Lando,” Daniel chuckled as he walked off to his car. “When are you going to learn?”

“You know the car goes faster with less weight,” Lando said as he rubbed his arm.

“Yeah, so?”

He shrugged sheepishly. “All that baggage you carry is weighing you down.”

“Well, that’s just stupid, metaphors weigh nothing...” You pulled your balaclava over your face as you walked from the second row to the front where the two Red Bulls were parked side by side.

“Hey Lan,” you called out as you turned back with the urge to lighten the mood after he had looked crestfallen. “Don’t get too excited when I warm up my tires, that’s not me shaking my ass for you.”

You could see the corners of his eyes wrinkle with a smile that was hidden by the balaclava he pulled on. “A lad can dream, Spitfire.”

You had earned the nickname of Spitfire from dog-fighting your way to the front of the pack and it was one you were proud of, it certainly beat being called a bitch day in and day out.

“Just keep it to your dreams, yeah? I’m already paying too much for therapy.”

“You can talk about your daddy issues later,” Max interrupted, tossing your helmet into your waiting hands. “Get in your car, zusje.”

You grinned to yourself as the formation lap began and you started weaving across the track to warm your tires. All Lando would be able to think about was your ass as the rear wing swayed side to side and the thought of made you laugh since you lived to torment the guys on and off the track.

“Radio check.”

“I can’t wait to show everyone the upgrades.”

“Understood.” There was a pause before Nicholas returned. “Uh, you weren’t scheduled for any upgrades.”

Your start was terrible as Max flew away at lights out and then you were nearly clipped in the first turn by Lando, the swerve you took to avoid a collision letting Charles slip straight past.

“DRS activated this lap.”

You passed the starting line on the heels of Charles, Lando close behind but not close enough to use DRS just yet. The Ferrari was quick but he was out of Max’s DRS range and your straight line speed was far superior, it was only a matter of time before you reached the first DRS zone and made your move to overtake.

“Did you just use indicators?”

You laughed as you hit the buttons on your console before pulling out of the slipstream, the rear wing opened to reduce the drag, and flew past the red car. You hit the new button the electrical engineer had rewired before pulling in front of Charles and laughed as you saw the replay on the big screens around the circuit.

“It’s only polite to indicate when overtaking. Have you never read the road code?”

“I’m more worried about the FIA regulations than the road code.”

“You worry too much, Christian can afford a little fine.”

“£150,000 for a laugh! Are you taking the mick outta me?”

You tried to keep a serious face as you faced Christian but one look at Max’s amusement had a smile cracking through.

“No, you don’t get to laugh about this,” Christian snapped, pulling your attention back to him. “You too, Max. It’s like having a couple of fucking children around here.”

“It was nothing to do with me,” Max argued. “I would never pull a stunt like that.”

“You have something on your nose,” you said as you pointed and he wiped at it. “Nope, still brown.”

His lip twitched before he snickered and playfully shoved your shoulder.

A heavy sigh of disappointment filled the private room in the motorhome and you both looked at Christian. “With Max winning last year we are going to be under even more scrutiny, and this sort of behaviour isn’t going to earn us any favours. Cut the shit out and pay the fucking fine.”

You started to open your mouth to point out the fine was charged to Red Bull not you but a sharp elbow from Max had you clamming your lips closed again.

“She’ll be better behaved,” Max promised with a glare that warned you to stay silent to save yourself from lying.

“Fine, get out there before the interviews are finished.”

You were never a fan of the post-race interviews but you left Christian’s office like it was lights out, racing ahead of Max to get to the media pit.

You skidded to a halt at the side of the stage and Charles patted the empty space between him and Lando just as Max arrived. The other space on the couch was at the end beside Lance and you looked at Max with narrowed eyes before making a break for the better seat. Lando had to jump aside as you slammed into the seat just before Max but it didn’t stop him from planting himself on top and you groaned at the weight.

“Second place again, Max Emillian,” you wheezed as you tried to push him off and looked at Charles. “A little help?”

“Sorry, there are universal rules: we can’t interfere with sibling rivalries,” he said with an apologetic smile.

“Arthur’s my favourite Leclerc.”

Max took full advantage while you were distracted, staring daggers at Charles, and shoved you aside to take the cushioned seat with a smarmy grin. “Remember, best behaviour,” he warned as he got comfortable and accepted the microphone handed to you.

He should have known that the challenge couldn’t go unanswered and so you stood up, but you weren’t admitting defeat. His smile fell when you sat down on Lando’s lap, much to everyone’s surprise.

“Hands off my sister, Norris,” Max quipped, but Lando’s hands were still in the air from where he froze, not knowing what to do with them or where to put them.

“This is quite comfy,” you noted as you wriggled around. “Maybe this can be my spot every week.”

“Fuck, fine,” Max growled as he stood up and walked down the line to sit with Lance. “Take the fucking seat.”

Charles laughed as you slipped into the seat and he held his fist out. “Everytime.”

You bumped his fist and smirked as the interviews finally got underway. “Every damn time.”

Click here for part two.

#crack!fic #Max Verstappen x reader #sibling!reader #platonic!reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine

2K notes · View notes

rhaenella · 4 months

Note

idk if ur reqs are open but im obsessed with ur account. i was wondering if u could do a smau of any driver (other than danny ric) x pbr!reader. like shes the only woman to ever compete at NFR in bull riding. shes also 19 and doesnt ride with a helmet (just a cowboy hat) shes also like yhe biggest rodeo barbie you could imagine.

Firstly, I’m sorry it took me so long to get to work on your request, end of the year stuff and other wips got in the way 🫠 Anyways, I decided on Max for this because I almost immediately thought of him and his little Texas outfit 🥰 Also, I have to admit that my (non-American) knowledge of professional bull riding consisted primarily of The Longest Ride so excuse any inaccuracies, but I tried my best to read up on it! That being said, I hope it’s to your liking :)

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

MV1 | Season of Champions

pairing: max verstappen x pbr!reader

genre: social media au

summary: you and max are each other's biggest supporters as max tries to secure his 3rd world championship title, whilst you're fighting for your 1st in a previously all male dominated sport

masterlist

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Liked by wagsf1, user3 and 135,092 others

mv.y/nupdates: Tomorrow our girl can secure one of the few select spots in the NFR finals!!! Unfortunately Max can’t be there due to his own race in Qatar, but we’ll be sure to cheer them both on ❤️

View all 712 comments

user1: they’re gonna kill it on both sides of the atlantic

user2: POWER COUPLE

user3: omg i hope y/n wins 🙏 she deserves this so much

user4: my alarm is set for 4 am to support y/n 🫡

user5: are you taking a nap between their races??

user4: lol obviously

user5: same 😂 it’s a tough life stanning max & y/n

7 October

Liked by y/n, mv.y/nupdates and 112,363 others

pbr: y/n y/l/n becomes the first woman in history to qualify for the NFR finals in Las Vegas in December! Congrats on this incredible achievement, y/n. See you in Sin City⚡️

View all 674 comments

user6: OMG SHE DID IT ❤️❤️❤️

user7: i’m so proud of her, i’ve literally been here since day 1

user8: remember when she used to do rodeo and everyone told her she could never go into pbr… look at her NOW 🔥

user9: she gave her hat to the little girl in the front row 😭❤️

user10: yep i cried

user11: y/n is not only the best, she is the SWEETEST

8 October

Liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 805,298 others

y/n: There aren’t words to describe how it feels to finally have my childhood dream come true. I’m not gonna lie, it was a tough road, especially as a female in this industry. Working my way up through rodeo to where I am today: a NFR finalist!! It’s a real pinch me moment… Little me would be ecstatic (just like present me 🙈) To all the other little girls that share the same passion & dream, it’s possible! Never stop believing in yourself ❤️ Now, let’s get that trophy!!!

View all 3,238 comments

maxverstappen1: My girl 😍 You’ve 100% got this 💪

y/n: Thank you baby 🥰 But first, Texas!

landonorris: GET INNN

Liked by y/n

lewishamilton: Legend in the making 🤍

Liked by y/n

user12: you’re gonna inspire so many girls to follow their dreams 🧡

user13: ✨role model✨

user14: soooo… idk if anyone’s seen the other finalists but she’s going to absolutely annihilate the competition just saying

user15: fr, they ain’t ready

8 October

Liked by user16, user17 and 658,512 others

f1: Howdy, y’all, it’s race week 🤠 Austin, here we come! 🇺🇸

View all 520 comments

y/n: Looking sharp sheriffs!

carlossainz55: Muchas gracias

charles_leclerc: Have to look our best this weekend, don’t we?

y/n: I wonder who for 🤔

charles_leclerc: 😉

user16: UHM FLIRTY MUCH??

user17: easy there sharl, she’s taken 💀

user18: cota the soap opera, i’m here for it

16 October

Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 778,543 others

y/n: Switching my bull gear for that other bull gear 💙 COTA LET’S GOOO

View all 2,160 comments

maxverstappen1: Blue looks good on you

Liked by y/n

danielricciardo: Yeeeeehaaawwww

redbullracing: Team Bull. Always.

y/n: Hell yeah!!

user19: you can pull off literally anything 😍

user20: y/n is at cota this weekend!!!!!

user21: omfg finally some y/n & max content

user22: we’ve been STARVED

user21: exactly 🥲

user23: GIRL WAIT YOU SWITCHED TO THE CAP??

y/n: Don’t worry!! It was only for the pic 😊

user23: oh thank god

18 October

y/n's story

Seen by landonorris, alex_albon and 2,436,712 others

19 October

Liked by y/n, victoriaverstappen and 728,451 others

maxverstappen1: Austin ready 🇺🇸💪

View all 1,934 comments

y/n: There were so many cool hats to choose from but he insisted on wearing mine…😈

landonorris: Initiating the cowboy hat rule just in time before the race… Clever girl

alex_albon: Oooohh everybody watch out

schecoperez: 😂😂😂

y/n: You know it ;)

maxverstappen1: Wait what?

landonorris: Nothing, mate 🤠 You’ll find out soon enough

user24: BYEEEE AHAHAHA

user25: y/n and the whole grid ganging up on max 😭

user26: he’s so oblivious i love it

19 October

Liked by sophiekumpen, redbullracing and 654,281 others

f1: VERSTAPPEN WINS AT COTA! 🏆

View all 2,017 comments

user27: 🔥🔥🔥

user28: the goat does it again

user29: little sad that max didn’t wear the cowboy hat on the podium tho

user30: lmao y/n is probably as well

22 October

Liked by maxverstappen1, alex_albon and 768,311 others

y/n: WHAT. A. WEEKEND. 15th win of the season & 50th altogether!!!🥇Proud of you Maxie 😘😘

View all 2,108 comments

maxverstappen1: Love you 😘

user31: MAXIE??? i’m sobbing

user32: i need to know all her nicknames for him NOW

user33: and i need her to be at every one of his races

user34: same she fitted right in with the crew in the pitbox, joking around and everything :’)

user33: truly one of the few wags who are actually into the sport…

22 October

Liked by y/n, danielricciardo and 734,161 others

maxverstappen1: It’s incredible to win my 50th Grand Prix here today. I feel very proud to achieve this! Amazing job by everyone in the team 👏 And special thank you to y/n, the hat indeed brought us luck!

View all 1,998 comments

y/n: Always trust the hat, you should wear it more often

maxverstappen1: Unfortunately we cannot all break the helmet rules

y/n: 🙄

user35: lmao y/n is like you either die trying or you don’t try at all

user36: she has an aesthetic to look after 💅🏼

y/n: 🤣 You got it!

user36: OMG OMG

user37: BROOO

user38: well at least we’ve got that confirmed now

22 October

y/n's story

Seen by charles_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial and 2,766,192 others

23 October

y/n's story

Seen by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and 2,541,384 others

23 October

Liked by user39, user40 and 31,476 others

mv1jet: Verstappen’s jet just touched ground! 🛬 Nevada, United States of America 🇺🇸

View all 508 comments

user39: oh god everyone get ready

user40: this can only mean 1 thing

user41: MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN, 3-TIME F1 WORLD CHAMPION, COMING TO SUPPORT HIS GIRL AT THE BIGGEST PBR EVENT OF THE YEAR HELLO YES I AM SAT

28 November

Liked by mv.y/nupdates, pbr and 275,021 others

wranglernfr: Today marks the start of the 65th NFR Finals! Newcomer and fan favorite y/n y/l/n has a good shot at winning the championship this week. However, will she decide to adhere to the mandatory helmet regulations or will she risk disqualification and still wear her self-proclaimed good luck hat? We’ll find out soon, folks. Stay tuned!

View all 1,454 comments

user42: i bet she keeps to her aesthetic

user43: oh def, she basically said it herself already

user44: but but but would they really disqualify her when she wins…??

user45: technically it is against the rules to ride without a helmet during the nfr’s so… yeah they might

user44: 😥😥

user46: please y/n don’t jeopardize it all 😩

2 December

maxverstappen1's story

Seen by landonorris, schecoperez and 3,014,839 others

11 December

Liked by maxverstappen1, mv.y/nupdates and 301,294 others

wranglernfr: NFR 2023 Champion y/n y/l/n⚡️Despite sticking to her famous but controversial cowboy hat, y/n becomes the 65th winner in Las Vegas at just nineteen, beating the runnerup and last year’s champion Billy Youngster!

View all 1,778 comments

user47: SHE DID IT!!!! 💪🔥

user48: i’m bursting with pride i’m so happy for her 🥰🥰🥰

mv.y/nupdates: two world champions this is almost too good to be true 😭❤️

user49: their christmas is gonna be one helluva party

user50: well deserved, that billy kid had it coming

user51: he only won last year because of dumb luck!

user52: FACTS

user53: this year we have a winner who’s worthy of the title ❤️

user54: can’t get over how y/n was so far up ahead they literally couldn’t disqualify her for the hat thing lol

user55: imagine if they had, people would have rioted

user54: omg they would have, with max at the front hoisting his pitchfork in the air, leading the pack

user55: 😂😂

11 December

Liked by maxverstappen1, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,219,748 others

y/n: Cowboy hat + racing gloves = champions of the world 🏆

View all 4,193 comments

maxverstappen1: ❤️

sophiekumpen: So proud of both of you 🥰

victoriaverstappen: Coolest auntie (en oom natuurlijk🙊)!!!

Liked by y/n

landonorris: Congrats on making champion, champ!!! And wow… Max has got his own hat 👀

y/n: Yup! He deserved it after his triple US win 😍

charles_leclerc: Does this mean that your hat claim has lifted…?

maxverstappen1: Unless you want another inchident, back off

y/n: Uhm... He knows what it means now…

charles_leclerc: 😳

alex_albon: RIP Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc 🪦

Liked by maxverstappen1 and y/n

12 December

Liked by y/n, landonorris and 1,182,853 others

maxverstappen1: Wear the hat…

Comments have been disabled

12 December

･ ⋆ ･ ��⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

a/n: translation of “en oom natuurlijk” > “and uncle ofcourse”

Happy holidays! x

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

#request #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x pbr reader #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #max verstappen smau #max verstappen fake instagram #max verstappen fake social media #formula 1 smau #formula 1 fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen blurb #season of champions

748 notes · View notes

sunny44 · 7 months

Text

Karting days with the Leclerc’s

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Wife!reader

Warnings: nothing I guess

Summary: It's yours and Charles son's first karting competition and he's nervous and excited at the same time so Charles tries to calm him down before the start.

It's Jules' first kart race, and Y/n and I are filled with excitement. As I watch my son, Jules, eagerly getting ready for the race, I can't help but feel a mix of pride and nerves.

We were arriving at the race track and Jules couldn't contain his happiness, it was the first time he'd run in a competition.

I remember the feeling and I can tell you that I was just as excited as he was.

"I'm afraid he'll explode with excitement before the race starts." My wife says and I start laughing.

"Well, that could happen." She laughs and Jules goes into the garage where his kart was.

"I can't stand this heat any longer." She says using her hand as a fan. "I think pregnant women get hotter than normal."

"Let's see if we can get you a fan." She agreed and there was a sofa and a fan in the garage, and that's where she stayed.

"Dad." He calls me and I go over to him. "I'm nervous."

"It’s ok buddy, it's normal."

"But what if I don't make it to the end of the race? What if I crash or lose?"

"It'll be fine, if you lose mom and I will be here for you and if you win we'll be here to celebrate too." He agrees. "Sometimes losing teaches us more than winning."

"What do you mean?"

"That this sport is not just about winning, you know that I don’t win all the time but you have to do you best and if you do your best you will be rewarded with victories.” He nodded and smiled. “Got it?”

"Got it." He says and goes off to get his clothes.

I carefully assist him in putting on his racing suit, making sure every zipper is secure and every strap is properly fastened. His eyes sparkle with anticipation as I adjust his helmet, ensuring a snug and safe fit.

"Are you ready, champ?" I ask with a reassuring smile.

Jules nods enthusiastically, his small hands gripping the steering wheel of his kart in the garage. He may be just starting out, but I can already see the determination in his eyes.

As a father and a racing driver myself, I know the importance of this moment.

It's not just about the race, it's about the lessons he’ll learn on and off the track. Together, we'll tackle this new adventure, and who knows, maybe one day he'll follow my footsteps.

But for now, it's all about that first thrilling race in the world of karting.

Bonus scene!

Y/nleclerc instagram post

Liked by @charlesleclerc, @pescaleleclerc, @pierregasly, @yourmom and others 927392

Y/nleclerc My baby Jules had his first official karting race today and I’m so happy

Tagged: @Charlesleclerc

Charlesleclerc I’m so proud of him

Y/nleclerc we both are

Pierregasly my nephew is the best

Pescaleleclerc love you guys

Charlesleclerc we love you too maman

User927 his name is Jules 🥹

794 notes · View notes

nothomegal · 6 months

Text

"Nothing, just (Y/N)"

(Pyramid Head(s) x GN! Reader NSFW)

Minors do NOT interact!

Summary: wondering through abandoned semi-ruined places is great to hide and get lost, and in your case the latest happened. But don't worry! Because you were lucky enough to bump into your lover... Or not. Whoever, or whatever this is, it really looks like your monster, yet it's different at the same time... Huh, I wonder what will happen when these two do meet face to face... Huh, I wonder what verdict awaits you.

Warnings: non-con touches at first, brief mentions of nipple play, oral (Pyra receiving), references to double penetrations (but you can interpretate it differently since the reader is gender neutral).

Word Count: 3.9k

This idea popped up after I remembered that Pyramid Head has two different designs (one that appears in DBD and Silent Hill 2, and the other one from the movie and Silent Hill Homecoming, y'know where he has a more pointy helmet and exposed torso)

I usually describe the DBD/original version (though my dummy self been using gifs with the other design hashsha). But still, why don't we present our lil' (Y/N) the other one? 🤭

They’re lost. (Y/N) let out a long tired sigh as they keep walking through the long dark hallway of what appears to be a school.

They begin to regret their decision of going deeper, it probably would’ve been smarter to just chill in one of the classes until the ‘newcomers’ leave the area, buut… Uh, last time they hid in a room they ended up kidnapped by the group they tried to avoid so yeah… Not really a fan to repeat that experience.

The school was dead silent most of the time, apart from the sound of their footsteps or the occasional shuffle or hiss from a Creeper. For anyone new, this would be an unnerving place, but for (Y/N)? Oh they’re chilling with the peace n’ quiet around them. Sure, silence is not always associated with safety and there is always the possibility of something lurking in the dark and waiting for the perfect moment to attack. But in (Y/N)’s case it’s not possible, no creature is dumb enough to even get close to them, not to mention hurting. They can’t help but to chuckle to themselves, they’ve been in this place for quite a while, probably months, maybe even a year! Or two? And no matter how much time passed or will pass, they still can’t believe the fact that one of the most fearsome creatures of Silent Hill took them under his wing, keeping them safe and making them feel something more than just a piece of flesh to use or kill.

Sigh, they probably have the dumbest lovesick face they’ve ever made, like some teenager thinking about his crush, but can you really blame them? Who the hell wouldn’t get all giddy with a creature like Pyra? And speaking of him, they probably should find an exit faster before he gets tired of looking for them and just tanks his way through the building-.

Or maybe not, because the sound of metal scraping the old tiled floor of the school and the erratic heavy footsteps resonated from one of the hallways. Huh, each day they start to believe that they somehow summon Pyra just by thinking about him for long enough.

With a little smile (Y/N) makes their way towards the sounds, happy to have their lover back with them after him completing his hunt and punishment.

–”Hey big guy! Sorry for the trouble of having to look for me in here. Just wanted to avoid the incident from the last ti- ”–

(Y/N)’s voice died and they froze in place when they met the source of the sound. Yes, it was the known pyramid headed beast, but… It wasn’t their pyramid headed beast, it wasn’t Pyra.

The monster in front of them was different; his vest, which appeared to be stitched, was only covering everything below the waist, leaving the torso completely exposed. The helmet was different too, it was more… Pointy? The edges were sharper and the shape was more triangular and detailed with additional metallic pieces.

This other beast and (Y/N) remain completely still, staring at each other in heavy silence, the monster’s metallic breathing being the only audible thing. (Y/N) gulps nervously, both confused and afraid. What the… Who is this creature?! Why does it look almost like Pyra?! Is this another executioner? Wasn’t Pyra the only one? Are there more monsters like him? Then why did they never see it before?!

Their internal freak out paused then the other beast let out the familiar low metallic rumbling, which wasn’t as low and deep as the one Pyra emitted, but that fact didn’t make the sound any less intimidating, especially when the monster seemed to grip the handle of his large knife tighter.

–”W-Wrong executioner, m-my bad!”– you peep out before taking off running.

They sprint down the hallway, their adrenaline skyrocketing when they hear the known bulky footsteps and scraping noises behind them. They haven’t felt this much terror since being chased by Pyra himself. Sure the group of shady men was scary too but their demise was inevitable. In the case with Pyra… Well, if the executioner chooses you as his target, there is no chance to escape your fate, only delay it.

But- But this time it will be different, right? Their Pyra is still somewhere around, right? It’s unclear what they're hoping for, or what they want to happen when both beasts face each other. All (Y/N) knows is that the true safety has always been in Pyra’s arms, and they have no other option but to go there if they want to have the slimmest chance to survive this chase.

Despite trying to find the exit, it feel like they only get themselves deeper into the building, all hallways and rooms appear to get darker and more rotten, it's like they're decending deeper into hell, closer to their demise, further from their salvation...

But the light of hope was recandled when while turning a corner (Y/N) bumped face first into a firm and broad torso, which didn't even budge at the impact while they already had landed on the floor right on their butt. They rub their nose after the impact and shoot their gaze up, their heart almost jumping through their rib cage after recognizing the known pyramidal shape of the creature’s head, thinking that the beast chasing after them somehow outsmarted their panicked brain. But when the creature kneeled down they instantly relaxed as relief flushed through them, despite the monster’s large form menacingly towering over them and engulfing their smaller frame with its shadow.

–”Pyra!”– you exclaim both happy and relieved as you scramble right into his arms.

The monster instantly wrapped his large arms around (Y/N), his own body tensing up, as if feeling the distress of his human and knowing they’ve been chased by something, fact that clearly angered him. When the sounds of metal scraping the floor and slow heavy footsteps began to resonate from afar, (Y/N) tensed up even more.

–”Th-There it comes… It- That thing, it looks like you!”– you warn him as you grip his vest tighter.

Pyra remains still for a moment as the noises get closer. After a while, he slowly stands up to his full height, lifting (Y/N) with him and putting them back to their feet to then gently push them behind him. The mentioned person carefully peeks from behind his large form, both afraid but also curious to see if it’s really another creature like Pyra and it actually exists or they just officially went coconuts and somehow imagined it all. Their doubts were dissolved once the other creature appeared from around the corner, his pace slow and unhurried. The monster froze in place as he stared at them, Pyra froze too and stared back. The atmosphere suddenly turned… Weird, not tense and heavy as one would expect, just odd and bizarre.

Still, (Y/N) didn’t feel at ease at all. There is a reason humans fear the unknown, and that’s the main factor that keeps the mentioned person on high alert. They have absolutely no idea of what to expect to happen next, are these two about to fight? Will the other creature turn around and leave? Will it somehow change Pyra’s mind and he will kill them? Are they in danger? Should they run? Wait? Pray?

A breathless gasp escaped their lips when the other creature began to move, slowly making his way towards them two. What freaked and confused (Y/N) even more is the fact that Pyra doesn’t seem bothered by it at all, he remains still in his place with absolutely no intent to stop the other monster.

When the second beast got way too close for their liking, and Pyra was still doing nothing about it, (Y/N) let out a shaky breath out and stepped away from their lover to then begin to back away on their own.

–”No. N-No stop, that’s-...”– you swallow nervously as you shoot a pleading glance to your beast. –”Pyra…”–

But he doesn’t react to their pleas, he doesn’t even look at them… And when the other beast was right next to him is when he finally does move, slowly turning around, and just like the other executioner, he begins to slowly walk towards (Y/N) in the same menacing manner, not like they’re his lover, but another victim to punish…

This scene broke (Y/N)’s heart into numerous tiny pieces, is… Is that it? Is Pyra really going to just… Kill them here and now? After all this time they’ve been together he… He’s just going to throw all that away like it’s nothing? Like they are nothing?... Silly them, of course he will, he’s Pyramid Head, the executioner, an immortal and eternal being created to punish and kill. Who are they to him?... They are nothing, just a little meaningless human… Just (Y/N).

The moment their back collides with a wall, their survival instincts kick in. Even though deep down they knew that their fate is practically written on their forehead, their mind was focused on the most primal desire that a human can have in case of facing danger; run away.

And so they do, they obey their instincts. When they notice an opening between the other monster’s large body and a wall to squeeze through, they bold forward with no care in the world and miraculously dodging his arm that attempted to grab and stop them from escaping. They let out a breathless chuckle out of shock that they actually managed to dodge that by ducking, such a silly maneuver actually wor-.

Suddenly something gets a hold of the back of their shirt and yoinks them back, right against Pyra himself. He holds them tightly against his chest, one arm being more than enough to keep the panicked human in place despite all the desperate struggles to break free. (Y/N) is beyond terrified now, they feel Pyra’s arm tighten around them while the other one gets so close that he ends up pressing his body against their front. Now being basically sandwiched and completely immobile, (Y/N) is feeling like passing out at any second. In any other occasion they’d be so flustered and aroused by this, but now? Oh their poor mind is being flooded with terrible images of how the two executioners will end them, the newer thought worse than the previous one. They’re shivering like crazy, eyes shut tightly, waiting for the wave of pain to come as the monsters will begin to skin them alive…

But after nothing happening for a solid minute, (Y/N) gathers enough courage to finally open their eyes and see what’s going on and why these two beasts are not doing anything. The instant they peek up, the two monsters let out that famous amused rumble, which due to the closeness, made (Y/N)’s whole body vibrate, super weird (and kinda pleasant) feeling.

(Y/N) was about to yell in anger, thinking that these two are seeing their fear and pain of the betrayal as something funny, but such chance was lost the moment they began to feel big hands roam around their body, caressing and feeling every curve through their clothes. The gesture wasn’t aggressive or mocking, but affectionate and loving, just like Pyra’s actions towards them on a daily basis.

Now (Y/N) is confused and quite dumbfounded. Didn’t these two have the intention to murder them? Why is this other monster suddenly so docile? Are they truly safe? Wha-

A shiver ran through their body when the executioner in front of them managed to slip his hand under their shirt, tracing the rough yet warm skin of his bare palm through the softer skin of their abdomen and chest. They let out a surprised squeak when the hand reached higher and brushed against their nipple, the contact causing (Y/N)'s body to shiver, and it only got worse when the beast began to rub it as it let out an amused purr. Another whimper escaped their mouth when Pyra’s hand made its way through their inner thigh, squeezing and rubbing their flesh gently until it stopped right between their legs, his movements getting progressively bolder and suggestive with each little sound that left that pretty mouth of theirs. (Y/N)’s eyes widened as they realized what the two monsters are trying to initiate.

–”Wa-Wait no-! I- I’m- I’m n-not ready for th-this!”– you stammer nervously as you try to clumsily wiggle out their grasp, face already red and flustered. –”You- You two s-sto-!”–

They have no chance to even finish the sentence as something warm and wet suddenly entered their mouth, making contact with their own tongue, which suddenly turned the action into some very sloppy kiss. Their struggles also lead to nothing, both monsters only squeezed them tighter against each other, reducing (Y/N)’s mobility even more. This continues for a couple of seconds, until the "kiss" finally stops and (Y/N) is finally allowed to breathe again, their mouth completely wetted with their and Pyra’s saliva. As they pant like a dog, trying to recatch their breath, they feel Pyra’s hand travel up to their face and wrap his hand around their face, rubbing their cheek lovingly as his tongue playfully wiggles in front of them.

(Y/N) suddenly gasps shakily as they feel something hard being pressed against their front and back, and by the way both monsters growled, they knew exactly what it was and what’s about to happen.

They shouldn't want this, they should try to get away and put a stop to this, they really should… But it’s hard, it’s hard to think straight when their mind has been poisoned with their own arousal and lust. Their logic side is saying no, but their whole body and most of their mind is screaming yes.

As if reading their mind, both monsters made a pleased sound and the next thing they know is that their body was swung over Pyra’s shoulder and taken somewhere... But it didn’t mean they wouldn’t get completely blown up in a moment, and Pyra’s big hand squeezing their ass and thighs is a reminder of that. They’re then brought into one of the classrooms of the school and their body is placed on one of the tables, just like the little delicious treat they were.

From their spot, (Y/N) stares at the two beasts with half lidded eyes and lovesick gaze. It’s like being under some sort of spell whenever things get heated between them and Pyra, and now that there are two of them? Oh, it’s like being hypnotized to act like a slave of their own lustful desires.

The two monsters were kind enough to actually undress (Y/N) (instead of destroying their clothes). And now, fully exposed and being in all fours, they silently observes as both executioners position themselves. The other beast is right behind them, one hand placed on their hips and the other one pulling down his vest, revealing an already fully erect and hard cock, tip brushing along their skin, making them shiver in anticipation. Pyra was right in front of them, vest fully opened and pants pulled down too, his cock just as erect and needy for his sweet lover, one gloved hand placed under their chin as his thumb rubs their cheek and lips lovingly, as if saying “you’ll do such a good job drear”.

The calm lasts for a couple more seconds… And then the whole world goes down without a warning. The beast from behind slams his whole length almost and ones, barely giving (Y/N) time to adjust to his size. Pyra also nearly choked them when he pushed the tip and part of his cock into (Y/N)’s mouth, but he was kind enough to wipe their tears of pain and pleasure.

This was both a torture and a treasure, the roughness and feral neediness of these monsters made (Y/N) feel a certain type of way. The knowledge that two powerful beings craved for them, THEM, so so badly made them feel both very special and flustered, just what did the executioner see in them to make him want their body and soul so much? Crave for them both sexually and emotionally, want nothing but to be close to them and keep them to himself, not just like a trophy or a pet, but as something worth to worship.

And they did, they really felt oddly worshiped despite being absolutelly destroyed by them. Feeling the one from behind dig his fingers into their flesh as he pushes into them, trying to bring them closer to his own body with each thrust and the distorted rumbles and groans he makes when the contact between their skins is missing, even for a brief second, only proves how much he wants them close. Pyra was too showing the effect they had on him, saliva actively dripping from that little hole in his helmet where the tongue would come out, hand placed in the back of (Y/N)’s head as he fucks their mouth and throat, and the fact that he’s not thrusting with more force also proves the care he has for them. They both could be rougher, they both could be more selfish, they know they totally could destroy them if they really wanted to… But they actively chose not to, because even in this feral and lustful state they’re in, they care for them, they care for their little sweet (Y/N).

The action doesn’t last too long, as (Y/N) is barely holding themselves back from coming ,and eventually it got too much. The second the monster from behind felt their release, he let out a growl and quickened his pace. (Y/N)’s body began to shiver, wobbly limbs barely supporting their own weight due to the overwhelming feeling of fullness and the lack of oxygen, air they can hardly get since Pyra’s pace got faster as well. When they eventually collapsed, their body miraculously remained in place and it all thanks to the beast behind them, who caught them and held them up with a single large hand placed on their chest.

It was hard to keep up, hard to keep themselves from coming again, but they must refuse, must holdup, must wait for the two monsters fucking their brains out to come before allowing their own sweet release again. And just as they reached their absolute limit, so did the two beasts. The taste and the sensation of their release drunken (Y/N) completely, eyes rolling as they let out a weak muffled moan as they're sent both to heaven and hell at the same time, their inside burning and their skin shivering under the cold sweat.

Once done, Pyra takes his still hard cock out of (Y/N)’s mouth, allowing them to take all these needed gulps of air as the white liquid drips from their mouth and down their chin, even after trying to swallow it they still got messy, a picture that their lover absolutely adored.

Though (Y/N) was quite tired, they know this is not the end, this is just the beginning˜.

They let out a yelp when their body is suddenly lifted and their back is pressed against the solid and warm exposed torso of the beast behind them. The table they were previously on had been flung across the whole classroom with great force and the next thing they know is that they’re completely immobilized again by Pyra’s body pressing their form against the monster behind. And soon enough, (Y/N)’s mind is being turned into mush again when the beasts begin to move again, their thrusts strong and hitting all the sweet and most sensitive spots of theirs.

Their movements were unnaturally coordinated, knowing exactly when to thrust and how to move so their helmets won’t collide. It was both freaky and fascinating to see, which left (Y/N) thinking if Pyra is really as simple as they initially thought, or is he the embodiment of something way more sinister-.

Their thoughts melted into a mass of letters and blurry shapes at the sensation of the rough fingers of the beast from behind rub their sensible nipples again, sending violent jolts and shivers with the mildest movements. Now (Y/N) was a complete panting and moaning mess, though their sounds were slightly muffled by Pyra’s broad chest, even slightly suffocating them at times with how close he got (not like they mind it). They always cringed at how vocal they can get during sex but they also knew better than to try to quiet the noises after learning the hard way how much their monstruous lover adores to hear them.

This fucking continued for a good ammount of time, (Y/N) already lost count of how many times they came, they have absolutely no clue! All they know is that they’re like in heaven, seeing stars and impossible colors of light flash before their eyes with each release just to then fall back into their mortal body and suffer the consequences of all the overstimulation and the generally overwhelming sensations. How are they still awake and breathing? They have no idea, but it did kinda boost their ego to know they’re tougher than they thought.

Eventually, the thrusts come to an end after the two monsters came one last time, causing (Y/N) to hide their face deeper into Pyra’s chest as they sink their fingers into his flesh and scratch his scarred skin with their nails. Even after coming and filling them up real' good yet again, the executioners remained in place, not pulling away from (Y/N) and still holding them against each other.

After regaining part of their breath, (Y/N) pulls back and their eyes wide at the sight of all the marks they left along Pyra’s broad chest and abdomen, both scratch and bite marks. The executioner from behind also received some lovely scratches on his body as well, when did they even manage to make these? None of the monsters seemed bothered by the marks though, and their hands roaming over (Y/N)’s body is a clear confirmation of that, showing just how pleased they are with their performance, even if they didn’t really do anything.

Now that the heat is slowly dying (Y/N) should feel cold, yet the warm skin of the beasts keep them perfectly warm and comfortable, their big hands traveling around their body, soothing the growing soreness in their muscles and worshiping every inch of their soft and tender skin, despite it being covered in sweat and drops of their load.

(Y/N) wanted to cry, but not out of pain, but of how loved they felt in that moment. The surprisingly gentle and affectionate caressing, the soft purrs and rumbles that at times resembled praises, and the overall atmosphere among them three felt so overwhelmingly comforting and loving, nothing like the heated lustful air from moments before.

Tiredness and exhaustion made itself known and they began to slowly doze off. Luckily, they didn’t have to worry about having a pillow, the chest of the two monsters were a perfect replacement, so warm and kinda soft now that their bodies and muscles relaxed a bit.

Unknowingly to (Y/N), a little smile formed on their lips. Yes, they're still pretty much nothing compared to a creature like Pyramid Head, but the fact that this same creature, or in this case, creatures, are all over them, a simple little human, makes (Y/N) feel this alien thrill and warmth.

They're still just (Y/N) though.

Their (Y/N).

Ţ̴̡̤͕̝̱̙͎̗͓͎͔̤͍͍̺̖̣̥͇͔̺̖̬̑̅͆̅ͅͅ ̷̨̢̢̡̡̡̧̨̬̲͈̹̦̤̻̬̳͎̳͔̬̘̤̤͚̮͇̪̗͍̺̟̦̯̙͇͔͓͈̫̾̾̂̂̚͠H̸̪͇͚͙̫͇̯̆̚ ̵̧̜͔͎̙͈̦̥̣̥͕̅̆́̆̑͗̈͛̇̓̾̏̇̌͛̾̓̉̀͛̓͆̈́̇̃́̄́̑̊͐̎̍͊̂̈́͆̕̚͘͘͝͝Ȩ̵͈̟̜͓̥͙̣͙̲̤̰̫̟̭̲̪͔͖͇͉̩̗̩͕̮̲̳̼͖̜̳̙͗͒̓̀̊̊͋̿̉̿͜ͅͅ ̷̘̦̜̻͓̒̽͛̚͝Ì̴̡̧̡̧͓̭̝̥̱̻̦̻͔͙̜̳̘̣̘̻̗̫̮̬͖̝͕̬͕͕͐͋͋͆̔̂̍͌͑̏̌͌̚̚ͅ ̵̨̜̻̬̲̬̩̤̹̩̮͈̮̭͈̙̦̪͕͕̭̠̝̝̀̿̓̀̌̌͊̅ͅR̶̫̯̬͚͚̝̦͋͌͒͐̀̄͌̃̓̌̈́̉̄͐͆

#nothomegal fic #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head #slasher x reader #gn reader #pyramid head smut #nothomegal smut fic

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gallusrostromegalus · 6 months

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Speaking of public health. What was the soul society reaction to the eradication of small pox like?

"You notice there's a lot less dead babies these days?" Iba asked in the middle of one morning's office work.

"Fewer dead babies." Komamura corrected without thinking. "Less is for things you measure by volume, fewer for things you count. We do not measure dead babies by volume."

"Oh. right." Iba nodded. "Yeah, that wouldn't be right."

After a moment, what his lieutenant actually said caught up with him. "Sorry- force of habit from living with a Librarian." Komamura shook his head and looked up from the monthly intake statistics analysis report, peering at Tetsuzaemon Iba through the narrow gap of his helmet. "What do you mean, fewer dead babies?"

"I dunno, it just occurred to me. When I started the academy in the 40's- right after the catastrophe- we did a student tour of the 7th division's recently deceased souls intake queue, remember?" Iba waved his hand leaning back in his chair, apparently uncertain of where he was going with this either, but articulating his thoughts.

"I believe so. I had just taken over from Captain Kotsubaki." Komamura nodded, patient. Chikane Iba was an excellent shinigami and had done a magnificent job running the third division, but she had a tendency to talk over and bulldoze her son, so Komamura had learned to be patient when the young man when he felt like he should share a thought.

"Yeah, yeah- Not gonna lie Boss, you scared the crap out of me back then." Tetsuzaemon laughed. "-But the thing that stuck out to me that day was just. The sheer number of Infants and little kids in the line. the guy giving us the tour- I think it was Old Ito, actually- He said that one in five babies in the living world didn't live to see their fifth birthday."

"An improvement even back then- it was one in three children when back when I started in the 1840s." Komamura nodded. "It's funny that I frightened you- Captain Aikawa apparently headhunted me for the 7th because Kaname told him about how the children at the library used to use me as playground equipment."

"Good grief." Iba blanched. "So, what, he threw you in the deep end with all the dead kids?"

"In Captain Aikawa's defense, I did volunteer to handle children's cases. As sad as a frightened infant is, it's infinitely preferable than dealing with the deceased who are angry."

Iba frowned, opened his mouth like he was about to object, reconsidered, closed it, considered further, rocking his head from side to side, and then nodded. "I- yeah, Yeah, that tracks."

"You were saying though?" Komamura laced his fingers in front of him, leaning forward to listen.

"Oh! Well- not as much these days but back then, every family had like seven and eight kids, you know? And I realized that, well- almost everyone I know has a dead sibling or two? Almost every mother lost a child- Gods know my mother's a basket case but even getting a cold could send her into fits. If something had happened to me when I was a tyke- I don't think she would have pulled through."

Komamura nodded enough for Iba to see his helmet tilt to indicate he as still listening.

"I- I don't actually know where I was going with this, but I was reading that report earlier and there's a note from Shita-san at the end that this is the first month we haven't had a kid under the age of five in the intake queue. Ever."

Komamura flipped though the pages of the report to read the hand-written note at the end. "That is excellent news!"

"Oh! Yeah! It's great!" Iba nodded enthusiastically. "It just- I don't know, I guess it just snuck up on me and I'm so used to hearing something went wrong I guess I don't quite know what to do with good news?" he shrugged.

Komamura pondered this for a moment. "Hm. Well. Take heart, to start. But I see what you mean- it's a tremendous achievement, but not one we contributed to, and a "No Dead Babies This Month" office party feels in poor taste at best."

"Oof, yeah- especially if next month there's an accident or something and there's a whole bunch in the queue." Iba nodded. He considered things for a moment.

"-What happened that there are le- fewer dead babies, actually?" Iba frowned. "-Whoever it is, it would be appropriate to toast them and make an offering in their name to the Gods of Good Fortune, I think. Also do more of whatever they did."

"That IS a good idea!" Komamura smiled under his helmet. Perhaps it was his training as a priest, but he did enjoy an offering of goodwill ceremony. Also, nobody would ask him to drink- just pour any alcohol he was offered on the statue of the relevant deity. "I think- It's probably in our statistics, if the tenth division doesn't have an idea already. Can you collect the cause of death data for young children for the last-"

He was interrupted by the thunderous footsteps of someone sprinting towards the office, immediately followed by a tall young woman with short white hair throwing the door open, red-faced and winded.

"THEY DID IT! THE MAD BASTARDS THEY DID IT!" She shouted with wild excitement.

"Isane-? Uh, Miss Kotetsu?" Iba flustered.

"Please keep your voice down-" Komamura said through gritted teeth, trying not to growl at being suddenly shouted at. "Who has-?"

He was interrupted by Miss Kotetsu bolting right up to his desk and shoving a newspaper into his face hard enough to actually wrap around his helmet in excitement.

"SMALLPOX! IT'S GONE!!" She shrieked with joy.

"-gone?" Iba asked, bewildered as Komamura gently took the newspaper from her and pulled it back to actually read it. It was a newspaper from the living world, dated that morning- someone had gone through some pains to get it back to the Seireitei at speed, but the news was worth it:

SMALLPOX IS DEAD!

"TOTALLY ERADICATED! EXTINCT! KAPUT! IT HAS CEASED TO BE!" She bounced excitedly. "IT IS AN EX-PANDEMIC!"

"So like. Nobody has it this year?" Iba tried.

"Nobody has it this year, or will ever have it again, if I'm reading this right." Komamura muttered in awe. "Thanks to an aggressive worldwide vaccination and disease protocol program, there have been no human cases of the disease for several years. Since there are no people infected, there is no way for the disease to come back..."

Both men stared into space, the news almost unbelievable.

"Well. That does explain the Less Dead Babies thing." Iba nodded.

"Fewer Dead Babies." Komamura and Isane corrected in unison.

"I mean yeah that sure is part of it because Smallpox was the number one killer of infants in the living world for a long time there, but there's a whole bunch of stuff that's really cut down on infant mortality in the last few decades in particular." Isane nodded.

"We were JUST Talking about that!" Iba said, excitedly. "-Good to know you guys in the fourth are keeping track of that, It was gonna take forever to pull out that data..."

"Oh, could you pull it out anyway Tetsu-kun?" She asked. "-That's most of why I came over- I mean, to share the good news first, but Unohana-Taicho is planning on using this to really push a widespread vaccination program in the Rukongai and having the numbers to back us up would be really helpful!"

"Oh! Uh, sure!" Iba blushed.

"...You know this young lady, Tetsu-Kun?" Komamura lightly teased.

Both of the young people twitched and bowed to him, pointing at each other and speaking at once.

"Oh! I'm sorry Sir, I'm fourth division third seat Isane Kotetsu, i just know Iba because we were in the same class at the academy-" She babbled.

"-this is Isane Kotetsu, she's the smartest person I know and she saved my life from a lizard one time!" He waved excitedly.

"...That lizard was not going to kill you." She sighed, covering her face in embarrassment. "-I mean, if you developed a sepsis infection from the contaminated wound it might have made you very ill but that would take weeks and we have antibiotics for that, the lizard itself wasn't all that dangerous."

"It was INSIDE my LEG!" Iba gestured to his right thigh.

Komamura slowly tilted his whole torso sideways at Iba, hoping that sentence might make more sense at a forty-five degree angle. "...How?"

"I. Uh." Iba stopped, realizing his story was maybe not one he should be telling his boss. "I was. um. Out camping with the lads back when I was in the 11th, and a lizard climbed into my cot and I was. not totally awake and thought someone was trying to cop a feel and well you know, that's behavior you respond to with force so I rolled over and tried to stab the intruder's hand and. Uh. Missed."

Komamura continued to stare at him blankly.

"There was. screaming. lotta flailing, blood, general mayhem sort of thing. And in the confusion the Lizard.... climbed. inside the hole. In my leg. Sir." Iba explained, slowly crumpling behind his desk.

Komamura sighed deeply.

"-but Miss Isane was right there and actually kicked Ikkaku halfway across the camp because he was trying to lure it out with a Banana and generally being useless and she just grabbed that sucker and ripped him right outta there and had the wound packed and sealed in less than a minute and I even got to finish doing boot camp!" He rallied, cheerfully waving at Isane in hopes of distracting his captain with how cool she was.

"...What happened to the lizard?" Komamura asked, warily eyeing her through the gap in his helmet.

"Oh! He was really, really human acclimated and sneaked into my medkit rather than go back into the wild, so Harry lives a very spoiled lizard life in a terrarium in my room at home! Though it's actually my sister's room now but he still gets all the mango and smashed beetles he can eat!" Isane nodded cheerfully.

"You named a lizard. Harry?" Komamura asked slowly.

"...Iba-san named him, actually." She blushed.

"Ironically!" Iba protested. "I'm only mostly stupid, sir."

Komamura sighed deeply and once again regretted that his disguise would not let him rub his face as needed. "Alright. Thank you for the announcement, Miss Kotetsu. We will get that data to you in a timely manner- was there anything else you needed"

"Oh gosh, there was something else, what was it-?" She tapped her chin, trying to remember.

There was the distant sound of explosives, and all three of them turned to see what looked like midday fireworks going off at the 4th.

"Oh Right! Unohana-taicho requests your presence at the 4th as. Um. 'Designated Non-Drinker and Unarmed Combat Specialist' because the party was getting kind of wild when I left actually-"

Komamura sighed, and picked up Tenken from his stand and started tying the zanpaktou to his belt anyway.

---

The following morning, a small party arrived at the local shrines to The Gods Of Good Fortune, bearing offerings on behalf of the living world's World Health Organization and the handful of names they'd been able to glean from the living world newspapers, and nursing varying degrees of of hangover.

Komamura lead the party, having gotten them up at a slightly malicious 5AM to be there first thing in the morning. Tetsuzaemon and his friends from the 11th he insisted come along and 'suffer with me, as my sworn brothers' were quite pained but doing their best to hold it together.

Shunsui was a veteran of this nonsense and was hiding the pain very well behind his longtime party companions, Ukitake and Unohana, who seemed so extraordinarily cheerful that Komamura had to conclude that they were both still significantly chemically altered. He couldn't fault Unohana- they were faint and only visible on the rare occasions she let her hair down, but just below her left ear there was still the faint divot scars from surviving her own infection.

Isane had celebrated just as hard as the 11th Division lads, but had also had the good sense to alternate beer and water and take both aspirin and some sort of horrible pink goop that apparently relieved nausea before passing out under a table and had woken up only slightly groggy.

Komamura's new friend Harry the Lizard- a remarkably loquacious and quick-witted reptile -had taken up residence inside his helmet, lightly intoxicated on the cocktail fruits people had kept feeding him, and was politely nestled in the thick fur of his neck to ward off the morning cold.

The rituals of gratitude for this miracle, and asking the Gods to bless those who had worked so hard went smoothly, and Komamura couldn't help but notice when he turned around that Miss Kotetsu had opted to lean on the shoulder of 'Tetsu-kun'.

It was not often Komamura started the day with the feeling that everything would turn out alright, but as he watched Tetsuzaemon cautiously but gracelessly take Isane's hand and her squeeze it back on the way back down from the shrine, he felt like the feeling might stay this time.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach fanfiction #bleach #sajin komamura #tetsuzaemon iba #isane kotetsu #long post #infant death mention #disease mention #injury mention #it's funny I promise

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cranberryjuice-posts · 1 month

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I would like to request a oneshot of clarisse x fem reader where they are rivals, but during one of Dionísio's children's parties, a small "slip" occurs (kissing and making out sessions fr) and reader ends up waking up in the morning in clarisse's bed and reader doesn't remember anything.

If you don't want to do this that's fine!

- mistakes were made -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader

An - i do Write every request fun-fact except for a select few but yeah it’s normally in order unless I get Like such a good one I have to write it right then and there BUT! It’s almost always in order of request 😻😻‼️ anyways request more I’m loving them all

An Pt 2 - im having writers block ☹️

Did you think you were going to be here.. no. But we’re you complaining. Also no..

You were sitting off the edge of a cliff with clarisse while capture the flag happened behind you. Her hands on your hip while yours were pinned by her waist helping you both lean on one another.

Just exchanging soft slow kisses neither saying a word. You pulled away only slightly hiding your face in her neck embarrassed. Since you first arrived at camp you both had this un-natural rivalry, from athletics to academics and beyond.

However after a month ago you both haven’t been able to keep your hands off one another. Finding every excuse or situation to be alone, though nobody knew about your secret makeouts, and no one would.

Some ares kids in the distant started shouting for clarisse bringing you both back to earth. With a heavy sigh she pulled away from you. Standing up she started to grab her spear and helmet.

Following her lead and grabbing your weapons you had started to zone out once again thinking about what you were doing. Jumping some clarisses arms snakes around your waist. “Your gonna be at the party tonight right?” She asked kissing your cheek softly.

“Yeah, im showing up with silena” you closed your eyes and leaned back slightly into her. Clarisse Just hummed in Response. “Great… I’ll see you then” she let you go but not without slapping your ass one good time. Before you could yell at her she was already running off to catch up with her siblings.

••

Standing around near a tree the party quickly got more and more chaotic. Chiron was long gone not really caring as to how or why he left, Mr. D the man who the party was for also had left most likely due to not liking being around all the campers.

With the littles away and in bed the Hermes cabin quickly broke into the dispensary and spiked the punch. One thing you knew was demigods and alcohol don’t mix well.

Your friends all gone and left with some guy or girl into the woods to do what only the gods could judge them for. Finally having enough of being alone you walked past the bonfire, grazing against clarisses shoulder as you did before heading towards the table.

Taking a seat towards the end of the table you swung your legs back and forth just trying to find something to enjoy.

“It’s improper to sit on a table” clarisse spoke making you jump as you hadn’t seen her follow you. Sarcastically sighing you pushed her back by hitting her arm.

“Shut up I’m resting my legs” you chuckled, the effects of the alcohol causing you to be more favorable towards her. After a moment you brought your head up watching as clarisse just leaned on the table beside you watching the kids around. “What are You doing?”

“People watching” she nonchalantly shrugged. “Him, Chris how much you want to bet he has a crush on the new Athena kid” clarisse moved closer to you trying hard to be sly though you saw right through her act, but you played along and leaned into her as well.

“Maybe” You Hummed. “What about Luke who do you think he likes” looking up you admired her gentle eyes, even if clarisse wanted to deny it when her face was calm she looked ethereally beautiful.

“Nobody im telling you that man would rather die than let anyone hit” she rolled her eyes with a smile, turning her head to look down at you she didn’t bother hiding her sarcastic grin.

“Well I guess I’m glad your not like him” everything in the background went semi silent as the small gap between you both closed.

Your lips softly touched one another’s. The first kiss was slow and gentle, your lips barley grazing over one another. Though it only lasted a moment before clarisse placed her hand on the side of your face deepening the kiss. The faint taste of alcohol on her lips, contrasting her subtle cologne. Pulling apart from her you quickly noticed campers looking over whispering and running off most likely to tell their friends, clarisse noticed aswell.

“Fuck.. let’s just get out of here” she muttered helping you off the table and walking towards the cabin. Your hands laced together as she dragged you through the woods, the occasional her yelling at one of her siblings that seemed to be going in the same direction.

Once in the cabin everything happened in small blurs that you could only semi remember. You sitting onto Clarisses bed, her Kissing you, You on her lap, your shirt on the ground and lastly where you currently were heavily making out with the daughter of ares while she grabbed at every inch of skin that she could.

Tangling your fingers into her curls you tilted your head, pressing your body closer if you could. Her tongue finding its self into your mouth while she helped shift you on her lap by your thighs.

Breaking away for a breath of air you kept your face close to hers. “Wanna like, hangout or something” she breathlessly panted.

“Sure” You mumbled quickly kissing her again.

••

Sitting up you rubbed your forehead, the after affects from the alcohol last night hitting you like a hurricane. Running a hand through your hair it took only a moment for you to realize that you in-fact were not in your bed.

Actually you weren’t even in your cabin. Looking around frantically you soon realized you were in the ares cabin, bringing your eyes down you saw clarisse peacefully sleeping with an arm on your waist.

With a slight frown you laid back letting out a deep sigh. Turning your head to the side you just watched as the normally angry girl was calm for once.

Not remembering exactly what happened last night bothered you some. But cuddling with clarisse was a worth it bargain.

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you

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doublebladedbitch · 2 months

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10 Reasons why I think tech is alive and well…and evil

1. The looks

Besides the similar front part of their helmets, their stances and movements show a resemblance.

2. Fight movements

Right when I saw this scene it felt familiar to me and then I remembered this very moment of season one. It’s the same attack…

If Tech was forced through the clone x/assassin program, he would’ve been robbed of most of his individuality, like fighting with two blasters for example, while clone x was shown fighting with all obvious choices of weapons of his 99 brothers : sniper rifle, knife and hand to hand combat. They also could’ve shown him with a usual blaster…

3. Relying on Technology

There were multiple moments where clone x checked on his arm data pad, even after it was broken after the building collapsed and his reinforcements had already arrived.

4. Voice / Noises

Sounds familiar? Tech is the only clone that has a visible British accent and there were definitely hints of that in clone x voice. Also the voice modulator seemed to be a little stronger than with the other clone assassins we’ve seen before, I wonder why…

And when you compare the grunts, they literally sound the same!

5. The height change

A few days into the third season of tbb Star Wars officially changed the height for tech and we all wondered why…. my theory is that they did that because tech's legs got injured after the fall and when the empire put him into the shadow assassin program his height went down to his new height.

Changed the height from 6’4 to 5’10

6. “But crosshair would know if it was tech”

Probably, but would he tell them? It took him a good while to tell anyone about the information he has gained in his imprisonment..he is still hiding things and if he knows I believe he doesn't want them to know, fearing they would try to get him back and he has realised that there is no chance to do so...the program these clones go through is so much stronger than what the inhibitor chip was.

Also this scene hits a lot different, if it's actually techimplicating this could be a reference to crosshair choosing to stay with the empire instead of the batch at the end of s1

There is also a scene in tantiss where he looks back at clone x...

7. THE PARALLELS

There were multiple parallels to significant moments and situations that

Tech went through.

- THE FALL sry to remind yall of plan 99, but clone x fell in that tower after crosshair shot his explosive and also in the waterfall fight.

- LIMPING after clone x got injured when the base collapsed, it was like the scenes in season 2 after a crate fell onto techs leg. Also important quote from this episode " I'm a survivor. Remember?"

8. This exact shot

the similarity of these specific shots is undeniable. And both when they come out of the water? Like?!

9. He’s too pretty to die

No but for real, storytelling wise IT HAS TO BE someone important.my other guesses are Cody, another 99 clone or (brace yourself) a clone of crosshair, like an evil twin

10. Maybe I just miss him

#bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb #sw tbb #tech #technology #bad batch season 3 #bad batch tech #tbb tech #tbb theory

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kairiscorner · 9 months

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Could you write a 42 miles x reader where the reader is on the cheer team and miles is on the football team and it’s game night and when the game is done the reader confesses her feelings for miles?

OOOOO sure thing anon !! i hope ya like this :DD

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

i'm his biggest fan. — miles 42 x cheerleader!reader

summary: you've always admired him from a distance, always smiled at him, not knowing if he liked you back–not knowing if you wanted to know if he did indeed like you back, either. but you were through with hiding your feelings, you made up your mind. win or lose, you're gonna admit to him once and for all how you feel, wanting to be more than just his biggest fan. pairing: miles 42 x cheerleader!reader genre: pure fluff !! word count: 1,180

as the football players were lining up on the field, you had your gaze on one of the players by the side. he wasn't the biggest nor tallest player, he wasn't even the quarterback or anyone too important to the game--he was just another player, another student in another extracurricular school activity, but not to you. while the other cheerleaders were calling out to their partners and friends, cheering on them, you were silently rooting for the boy who didn't even notice all your attention was on him, and him alone.

you were hoping he wouldn't look your way, though you were also wishing he could at least show bits his face through that helmet covering his head. you were constantly conflicting your wants at every turn when it came to him, and it confused you sometimes, but... in a good way. he made you feel so warm and buzzing, yet frozen in place when you'd see him during joint practices and compliment him, and hearing him compliment you back in an awkward yet sincere way, the way he always is around you when you call out to him... it made you feel a lot of things. it made you feel a lot of things you hadn't understood fully, but wanted to feel more of because he makes you feel good about yourself; he makes you feel like you're more than just a cheerleader, more than just another face on the team, even though you two hardly speak outside of practice.

you were the sole person on the cheer squad who remembered his name and wanted to cheer him on from the sides; you were always thinking of his name, it was like an involuntary reflex, an instinct, if you will. you took in a deep breath and from the bottom of your lungs, you shouted his name with a bright cheer. "miles! miles morales! go miles, give them hell!" you cheered, which took miles by surprise. he whipped his head around and looked for the voice who cheered for him, and there you were, smiling and cheering for him all the while as every other cheerleader kept calling for the quarterback and center, you were only focused on him, and he didn't... oh, he did not know how to feel about that.

the player next to him nudged him to get his focus back in the game, and he tried to, but knowing there was someone out there who bothered to call his name when he was no football star or legend on the team, it motivated him to do better than he ever had before. fast forward to the end of the game, your school's team had won by a landslide, with miles getting more recognition tonight as he played more vigorously and tactical than all the other players on the field, with you cheering harder and louder with more passion than you ever have before in your whole time as a cheerleader. a few of the other cheerleaders teased you, asking you in between the breaks if you had your eye on any one of the players, with you immediately laughing that notion off and giving them vague 'maybe's for answers.

as the players shook hands from both teams and went their own ways, they were bombarded by praise from the cheer squad, the coach and the assistant coach, the teachers, their family and friends. though you didn't join the commotion until you saw an older man with a goatee hug miles, telling him he did amazing. the boy hugged the older man back and thanked him as he pulled away, his mind elsewhere as his eyes wandered, searching for the cheerleader who lifted his spirits before the game began.

this was it, your chance, your chance to finally tell him how you've felt all this time, no more admiring him from a distance when your chance to be up close and personal with him is right here, right now. "um, excuse me, miles morales?" you asked in a small voice as both miles and his uncle looked your way. his uncle smiled and nodded, taking the hint as he placed his hand on miles' shoulder and wished him luck in a whisper, with miles trying to hide his embarrassment and removing his uncle's hand from his shoulder as the older man walked away. "ah, yeah. i am... and you're...?" he asked you as you gave him his name, with him involuntarily nodding as he snapped his fingers. "you're the cheerleader i keep meeting in joint practices, aren't you?" "i am...!" you exclaimed a little too excitedly with a smile, then soon reeled it back and hid behind your pompoms.

he chuckled as he saw your widened eyes and bashful expression being hidden behind your pompoms. "hey, no sweat, you don't have to get all embarrassed. i'm just a player, not the most valuable one, though." he said with a small smirk as he felt more flustered talking to you, soaking in all the pretty details and quirks about you that he never noticed until now, feeling a warmth and heat creep up his cheeks just like you. "well, for what it's worth, i believe you're extraordinary." you complimented him with a dorky smile as miles' smile went away and was replaced with a look of sheepishness. he toyed with his braid and chuckled. "that's... that's sweet of you, thanks." he said with a small smile.

"um, would you--" "um, would you--" you both began in unison, and soon stuttered to a stop, feeling more embarrassed. "no, no, you go ahead--" "no, no, you go ahead--" you both repeated, now feeling more flustered than ever. you decided to take that leap of faith and moved closer to him, boldly asking him: "do you wanna maybe... go out on a date sometime?" "i'dreallylovetoyes." he said in one breath as he looked at you with the most bashful expression ever, with so much heat filling his cheeks, he felt he might collapse. you felt even more flustered than before at his agreement, not expecting him to give you the time of day, but this was way better than any of your expectations or wildest dreams.

"great!" you exclaimed, breathlessly as miles stared down at his cleats, extremely sheepish at how dorky he must've sounded. "really great..." he muttered as he tried to hide the growing smile on his face with the cool poker face his uncle taught him, but the smile was too strong to keep hidden, and so it showed and broke through his facade, making you giggle a little seeing him be all happy about it. you gave him your number, which he hastily added to his contacts, and you promised to text him when you got home, with him telling you he's looking forward to that, to you, to this date you two were going to have. he's never been happier to know he's had a number one fan all this time, and now, he's thinking of making you more than just his number one fan.

a/n: rio called when you left, and his uncle kept yelling in the bg "YOUR BABY BOY HAS A DATE" with her reminding miles she told him he can't ever date until he's 25 😭😭😭

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya

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