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vroomvroomcircuit · 3 months

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"Diamonds are made under pressure, aren't they?"

Summary: It's about treading the line between 'diamonds are made under pressure' and 'bread only rises through rest', describing the struggles of two people that come with being described as one of the best drivers to ever exist and the smartest person in the room

Pairing: Max Verstappen x engineer!reader

Wordcount: 2k

🏎Masterlist🏎

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“Diamonds are made under pressure.”

This is a sentence, a one-liner, that has been thrown at (Y/N) through an off-sentence by a friend during one of their most stressful weeks of university. Ever since she lived by it. It was one of the mantras she retold herself over and over again during one of too many all-nighters, only accompanied by sugary energy drinks and crippling anxiety about her future if she doesn't get through this assignment on time.

In the end it all, meaning the late nights and early mornings in libraries, study halls and classrooms, was worth it, the grind she held through her bachelors in engineering got her a seat on the Red Bull Racing team in Formula 1. Ultimately, it brought her to her true love, Max Verstappen.

They have similar mindsets, after all, there is always room for improvement and why wait for it when you can do it now? So many people are counting on them anyway.

This is something they have discussed during late night talks. These started back then when he was in his third year with Red Bull and (Y/N)’s first.

Max was about to leave the factory after a long day of working on the new car for the upcoming season. He stopped when he saw a light still burdening in one of the offices. Being the environmentally conscious person he is, he wanted to turn it off. Good one, Max. Without you Red Bull would go bankrupt based on the energy bills alone.

Instead of an empty office, he was met with wide eyes. “Uh, I apologize for running in like that. I thought somebody forgot to turn off the light”, the driver explained his sudden appearance.

After recovering from the initial shock of having her door thrown open out of the blue, (Y/N) was quick to put Max back at ease. “Oh no, it’s fine. I guess it really is late. I just wanted to run the suggestions you made to the team through a simulation and see if the outcome really does change like you expect it to.” The young woman smiled tiredly at him before continuing punching some numbers into her computer and sipping on a can of Red Bull (the orange one is the best, you can’t change my mind).

“You don’t sound convinced by my idea too much”, he noticed with a small grin of his own, “Was what I said not smart?” He still whacked his brain whether or not she was with the team he worked with today. He surely would remember, right?

“Oh, I would know what you said word for word, I was with the other driver today. But Mike gave me the notes and why wait to put what you suggested to work when I can do it now?” (Y/N) winks at him.

“And still you think it won’t work.” And with that they started an in depth discussion about the outcome that is to be expected with the proposed changes. In the middle of another Maxplaining (Y/N) just turned her computer screen towards the man leaning against the doorway, proving her point she told him from the beginning of their conversation.

“Well, I guess you need to explain these results to me. Maybe over a cup of coffee?”

“I definitely need to, can’t have our golden boy lack knowledge in the field of engineering. We want these Championship wins.” With that she packed her back. “I know a place that’s still open.”

Born with that are many more discussions, partially very heated even, that could only be solved by getting one of the heavy textbooks out that (Y/N) still kept from her uni days. Sometimes held over coffee in softly lighted cafes around the world, later during dinners, which are only interrupted by waiters desperately trying to get their attention to jot down their orders, and in the end they continue them in the security that only their own four walls can provide.

One time during a race weekend the whole team had a bet going on about how long the two can keep talking about the same subject. After two hours they had to be stopped, both of them needing to follow their own programme points of the day. GP won the bet, having to listen to their conversations on a regular basis with no way to escape them, because they are vital with important key information. Still, it doesn’t mean that they are exciting.

Now, three years after that initial meeting, three WDC and two WCC have been secured since. During that time the aspiring engineer decided to pursue a masters degree in technical engineering alongside her work in the team (or more like Christian offering her a whole ride paid by Red Bull after hearing her talking about this and knowing how much extra value this brings to the upcoming seasons).

The couple’s apartment in Monaco starts to look more like a library than a living space for humans, textbooks and loose papers scattered over every available surface and the floor of their office. While the driver greatly admires his love’s determination to get through her programme with the best possible grades, he starts to worry a bit. He has heard stories from her friends and family from her time at uni and what her study habits had looked like back then.

Hell, Max himself plants his ass for more hours on the sim than probably necessary, since there is always room for improvement. But seeing his girlfriend become a zombie version of the person he got to know was definitely not what he had expected when she signed up for going back to uni.

“Schatje? I thought you wanted to join me in bed?” Max asked (Y/N) tiredly, who is still sitting in her seat at the office desk while pouring over textbooks and a writing document on her laptop. His voice tells her that he already had fallen asleep, but something must have woken him up. Was she talking to herself again? She tends to do that when getting lost in her own world of equations and laws of physics.

“Yes, I will be with you in a minute. Let me just write this down, I finally understood that concept”, the engineer waved him off absentmindedly, the other hand retracing a line in a book, which has been assaulted by differently colored highlighters.

But Max is nothing but a stubborn man and if life had taught him one lection then it’s to never give up easily. “Come on, it’s really late and all your smart thoughts will still be there after you get some sleep”, he tried convincing her, moving closer and massaging the tension away from his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“I told you, I’ll be there in a sec. But a masters thesis doesn’t write itself and I would deeply appreciate it if you would leave me be to finish this up.” Frustration starts to set in (Y/N)’s voice.

Max is not irritated by it at all. He had been the same, if not worse, to her in his most challenging moments of his career. He knows that he can be a harsh person, unfortunately even to his loved ones. But that also means he knows how to deal with harsh people.

“You know what, I’ll put the kettle on and make us a cup of tea while you wrap this up and we meet again in the bedroom. Okay?” Softly spoken, the Dutchman proposes the idea to her.

(Y/N) can’t really say no to this, knowing that her brain wouldn’t be able to process and absorb much more information anyways. Still, there is a certain guilt gnawing on her conscience whenever she is about to take a break from her studies.

With puppy dog eyes the engineer looks up to her boyfriend. “Can you make it a hot chocolate, please? And maybe some of the cookies you brought home from the bakery?” Her small voice is enough to ask Max to do nothing short of a murder and he would say yes without wasting any thoughts on it. “Of course, Schatje. Anything for my smart and brilliant girl.” He presses a kiss on her forehead before disappearing from the office.

Not long after this the couple finds themselves sipping from their mugs with some calming music playing in the background and munching on some treats.

“My love, I feel like when I talk to you now about the importance of taking breaks and resting, we both will have a déjà-vu,” Max says with a small smile.

He is not wrong. They actually talked about it a couple of months ago when Max had to be dragged off the sim, because he had been stressing himself out about a particular race way too much to consider it a healthy try to improve.

“I know, I know. It’s just, being smart is not easy and I try to live up to the title of the clever woman in my family and in the team,” (Y/N) confesses quietly. The driver puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her further into his embrace.

“What do you mean, Schatje? What do you have to live up to?” Murmurs are whispered into her hair.

“It can be hard, being the smart one. Because as soon as people catch on, they start expecting things from you. Suddenly, you are knowledgeable in every single subject available on earth. You become other people’s measurement scale. When they get something right and you wrong, they will rub it into your face.

You have to do great things, because they want you to do that. You will get pressured into using your intellect to the fullest extent, because otherwise they say your potential is wasted. Nobody wants you to do that, it would be a shame. Apparently to everybody and their mother.

This is why I sometimes hate to be the smart one. No one wants me to be average, they need me to be exceptional. That’s why I have to study hard and read everything there is on this subject. And diamonds are made under pressure, aren’t they?”

Max understands the kind of pressure that is on her. He felt like that for the majority of his life, having to exceed the expectations of other people over and over again, because only meeting them just is not enough.

Either he is the best driver out there or he shouldn’t even bother to try. That is something he had been told from his early days into his driving career. He lived by it like it was the only truth that mattered.

This was until he met her. (Y/N) showed him that trying is better than never starting. That his best will always be enough. Nobody has been born being a master in something. Failing is an important part of the way to perfection. Mistakes have to be made to improve, to learn what needs to be improved.

And he wants to show her that all of this also counts for her, too.

“Do you wanna know what Christian said to me a couple of months ago? ‘Just like dough, you can rise only if you rest.’ You need time to recharge to be able to do your best. Let’s take the day tomorrow off, recharge our batteries and just laze around and snooze in a bit. After tomorrow, I’ll help you study.”

A study date with Max Verstappen is too good to say no to. Whenever he quizzes (Y/N), she gets a kiss for every correct answer. So the questions might get easier over time. Still, he motivates her to do her best while looking out for her water intake and food consumption and taking regular breaks for stretching her body or going for a walk.

Max is right, you need to rest to continue achieving greatness.

#max verstappen x reader #x reader #reader insert #max verstappen x you #max verstappen image #max verstappen x engineer!reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic

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billthedrake · 1 month

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WINGMAN

I generally had a clean lifestyle, at least lately, but it was Mike Gelson's bachelor party, and we five dudes were partying it up in Nashville. I may have been doing my goody two-shoes Brendan Peters thing and getting club soda every few rounds, but my tolerance was down and I was getting good and truly wasted.

My best buddy James Carducci noticed, too. Like me, he was a big guy, a former tight end who carried a lot of muscle on his 6'5" frame, but unlike me he could hold his liquor.

"You gonna get laid tonight, Peters?" he growled in my ear as we entered the room we were sharing. "It's fun to see you let your hair down."

I gave him a scowl but knew he was just ribbing me. It's what buddies did. "Why can't we have the bachelor party in New York or something?"

Carducci knew what I meant. He plopped on one of the beds, his big frame taking up most of the double bed mattress. "Bro, you could have all the gay dudes around you and you'd still be too fuckin' picky."

I lay down on the other bed, looking over at my best friend. We'd both moved to the same city after graduation. Coming out had been a big messy process for me, and James had been the most supportive of my college friends. He was enthusiastically bisexual - not advertising it or anything, but we quickly realized we could switch from teammate-buddies to guy talk and back.

Still, we were opposites in a lot of ways. "Dude... it's easy for you. You just want to get your dick wet."

We'd had versions of this conversation before. He grinned. "Bro, maybe you should get your dick wet for a change. It'd keep you from being a cranky bitch." Yeah, Carducci could get away saying stuff to me no one else could. Then turning his meaty body on his side, he looked right at me. "I get it, Peters. But maybe while you wait for Mr. Right, you can have some fun. I mean, Kevin Murphy's not gonna suck your cock."

"What the fuck?!" I played dumb. Kevin had been the kicker on our D1 team and was Mike Gelson's best man. He was my type to a T... shorter than me and leaner, boy-next-door cute, tight body and a bubble ass.

James lay back again and put his arms around his back, arms knotted and pumped. If I was into big dudes like myself, there might be sexual tension between us. "Bro, it's all over your face. Remember, I know your fuckin' type."

"C'mon, JC," I pleaded, using my nickname for him.

He grinned. "Don't worry, Peters, I'm not gonna say anything to anyone. You know that. Crush out on Murphy all you want. You're just barking up the wrong tree."

"Yeah," I sighed. "It's majorly against the bro code." I was starting to get resentful of how being a horny gay dude and an ex-jock living by the bro code were not exactly compatible.

That got a deep laugh from JC. "So's fucking your buddy's dad."

I sat up, the alcohol and quick movement making my head dizzy. "What?!?!" Normally I'd write off the comment as Carducci being a jokester but the way his words came out made them seem real.

He now sat up and reached down to paw at his crotch to rearrange his junk. "This stays between us," he warned.

"Scouts honor, man," I replied.

My friend got a wild look on his face and a leer as he said, "I banged Gelson's dad."

"Mike Gelson," I clarified. "The fucking groom."

He seemed annoyed. "What other Gelsons do you know, dumbass? Yeah, Mike Gelson's father. It was a couple of years ago, when Mike invited a couple of us to his family's lake house." James was closer to Gelson than I was, which only made what he was describing seme more transgressive.

"Dude, isn't Mr. Gelson like 45?" I'd briefly met the man once but he didn't make too much an impression on me, I guess.

Carducci leered. "He was 50 then, and it was fucking glorious. A whole week, both of us enjoying sneaking around." I knew JC had a bit of a kink for married men. We didn't overshare, but I'd very occasionally hear about a hookup or, more often, I'd unload about a date that didn't go like I wanted.

I had to rib him now. "What, you going for the daddies now, JC?"

Without missing a beat, he looked at me with his brown eyes. "Abso-fucking-lutely, Peters. Exclusively even. You should try an older dude for a change."

I didn't think I was easily shocked but the turn of the conversation had indeed rattled me. I went silent before I said quietly, "Man, I couldn't date a guy my dad's age. What the fuck?"

He laughed. "Dude, who's talking about dating? You're a hot fucking dude, you should be having sex nonstop... " He paused. "Can I be honest, bro?"

I nodded, bracing myself for the barrage of criticism. But this was Carducci, I knew he was looking after me.

"Well," James started. "You always go for the unavailable ones like Murphy, or for the stuck up ones who think they're the shit for having an Insta following." For all of our odd-couple conversations, Carducci had never spelled it out for me quite like this. But he was totally right. "I dunno, maybe you should go outside your type just to see. There are so many daddies out there who'd be so fucking appreciative to make it with a guy like you.... You could use the ego boost, bro."

I thought it over. "Is that what older guys are to you?" I asked. "An ego boost?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I have a pretty massive ego already, bro, I don't need help with that. I just love sex with an older guy." I watched as he pulled a spare pillow down to cover his crotch. I knew why: Carducci was boning up talking about sex, and while we shared a lot there still was the bro code between us. "Some of em have a wild side, like a drunk sorority chick."

I shook my head. "Jesus, JC."

I knew the alcohol was getting us both to open up to this conversation. "It's not like that, Peters. I mean, you know you're with a dude, a real masculine dude at that. But there's that wild, naughty streak beneath the surface. I fucking love it."

He reached over and picked up his phone.

"What? Are you gonna show me a picture of one of your conquests?" I asked.

He looked up and winked. "Perv. No, bro, I'm lining up a blowjob. There's gotta be a horny daddy staying in this hotel."

I blushed. "You serious?"

"Sure, I'm serious," he said, now not taking his eyes off the app as he scrolled through. "Jesus you can be such a fucking prude."

I lay back, feeling insulted but mostly angry that he was right. I'd set up a Grindr profile and used it some but then swore it off over the last year. "Well, you're not bringing him back here," I said.

JC now looked up. "Like I said. Cranky bitch." There was teasing sure, but I think I'd actually pissed off my buddy. I almost apologized but I was stubborn.

Anyway, he was now getting off the bed and putting his shoes back on.

"Already?" I asked with astonishment. JC hadn't been on that app much longer than five minutes.

He laughed. "What can I say, bro?" He smiled. "Daddy wants this..." he used his hand to gesture to his tall muscular body. "I'm in Nashville, I'm gonna have a little fucking fun." He had his phone and key card and seemed good to go. "You should too, Peters. For real."

I didn't say anything but I gave a look that was my attempt at an "I'll think about it."

And like that, I watched my best friend leave our room.

***

The lamplight was still on when I woke up. I'd conked out in my drunkenness. I was massively hungover but I always wake up pretty quickly. Light was coming in and the clock said a little after 8.

Carducci's bed was still made and still empty. The fucker.

I got up and pissed and popped a couple of aspirin, hoping they'd help. My head pounded. And we still had another night of this fucking bachelor party weekend. I wondered if these dudes would want to come to mine when the time came. Hell, I wondered if I'd have one.

I brushed my teeth to get the stale beer taste out of my mouth. My hair was mussed up and I did my best to comb it down.

Fifteen minutes later, after a trip to the lobby to get some coffee, I was feeling more alive. Hungover still, but better. I didn't feel like eating anything, but the aspirin was helping.

I picked up my phone. I'd uninstalled Grindr but it was easy enough to re-install it. It took me a second to remember my login, but I used one of my common passwords. One of these days, I'd need to choose something more secure for my shit.

There were some hot guys in Nashville, but I'd gotten spoiled by the city I lived in now. There was a certain type I was seeing here - either bigger, beefier guys, or else younger thinner twinks. My type was always in between that. I wanted more Dierks Bentley and was seeing a lot more Garth Brooks types, even among the 20-somethings.

I'd been replaying my conversation with JC in my head. He could bust my balls, and maybe in a way I didn't like. But I told myself, I'd give this a try. I changed my profile language to make it less picky and judgmental and adjusted my looking-for age range.

It was early and I didn't see any hits in this hotel, but there was a good looking older guy in the hotel on the next block. Kind of average looking, balding hair, 49yo, but his pics showed off a very fit body, lightly hairy, probably trimmed. Looking for now. If I had to make it with an older dude, this was probably as good a match as any. I'd focus on his body if need be.

"Hey," I typed in a chat. "You're up early."

"Hi man." Then. "This is early?"

"In Nashville it is," I replied back.

"True, ha."

I was never great with the quick hookup thing, but one thing I'd mastered was the art of messaging. Some guys were too direct, not flirty enough, but some guys were too passive and conversational. My style didn't work with everyone, but it was working now, I knew.

"What brings you here?" I asked.

"Business. I thought I'd tack on an extra day for fun. And you?"

"Bachelor party."

"Of course, ha." Then, he added. "You're quite the hunk."

"Thanks man," I typed. "You're hot, too." I wasn't sure how much I thought that. It's not that he wasn't hot, because he was in a way. But in my fucked up way, I knew he wasn't Brendan Peters-worthy hot. Not in my league. But I tried to embrace the Carducci way. "You say you bottom, right?" His profile had read vers-bottom.

"Yep. You wanting to fuck?"

After my conversation with JC, I'd initially been thinking of a blowjob. Baby steps. Something to take the edge off. But now I realized it had been WAY too long since I'd fucked a guy. "God yeah. You able to host?"

"If you can give me fifteen minutes."

I pawed my crotch now. I was getting boned good. "Make it twenty?" I wanted to shower up.

"Sounds good, man."

***

The profile had sold the guy short. He didn't look hotter than his pictures but as he ushered me in, he had a deep sexy voice. Almost gravely, with a New York accent. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and I could see how dense his muscle was on a frame that was about 6 inches shorter than mine.

"Looks like I hit the jackpot, huh?" he smiled. Then as his eyes swept up to my face, he added, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna gush. You know you're smoking hot."

OK, maybe JC was right, I could get used to the ego pump. With a grin I stepped up to the guy and wrapped my arms around his naked torso, drawing him in.

"I wasn't sure..." he started to say in his deep voice befor I cut him off with a kiss.

He was a good kisser. This was a hookup, just a hookup, and our making out wasn't romantic, but I really enjoyed this part of sex, and this man knew how to respond to my groove. His hands felt up my chest as he did his best to match my tongue work.

Maybe it had been so long since I'd had sex, but the feel of his bare skin and hard back muscle under my fingers had me rock hard. This guy wasn't my type, but he was masculine and real and he wanted me. I pulled off his towel and broke the kiss so I could reach down and paw at his thick ass. It wasn't a young bubble ass, it wasn't Kevin Murphy's kicker's ass, but this man went to the gym regularly and had for years.

"Yess.." he hissed.

I kneaded his ass for a minute longer then stepped back, in full ready to fuck mode. As I reached down and started undoing my shorts and kicking off my shoes, my trick looked at me with horny anticipation, his daddy dick hard and leaking, a solid six-incher that stood out from his trimmed but hairy crotch.

"I guess we didn't talk about specifics," he said, stepping back to the bed. "You a missionary or doggy position kind of guy?"

God, this was 180 degrees from my normal Grindr experience. I always met freaks who'd get real porny and weird, or I met guys who were bossy about their needs. This man had a fun laid-back vibe, even as we were getting to brass tacks.

Usually my answer would be missionary. "Doggy," I leered, letting my thick long cock fall out as I pushed my underwear down.

"Fuck," the daddy hissed. "You didn't exaggerate the measurements. Take it a little easy at first, then I'm good to go." I watched as he got onto the bed, on all fours. It was clearly the body of a man in his late 40s, but I was going to enjoy it all the same.

I got up on after him, letting the mattress sink with my weight. I'd hit almost 240 in college ball, and while I'd leaned down a little since then, I still was 230 pounds of tall muscle.

I remember one time I'd started eating out some model looking guy I'd hooked up with and he about freaked out, telling me he wasn't into getting rim. But as I kissed along this man's lightly furred ass cheeks, one side then the other, he spread his legs in an unmistakeable green light. I dove in and licked.

Fuck, this daddy loved it. I thought about what JC said. Masculine dudes with that drunk sorority chick worthy wild streak. He was some regular guy on business, and he was enjoying me eating him out and munching wildly at his clean pucker.

"Holy fuck, dude!" he growled, the deep voice making his words seem more sexual. "Eat my fucking hole."

I did. I wasn't even expecting an extended rim session for this. I almost thought it would be a pump and go, but I now rode the experience, gripping his cheeks, pulling them apart and tongue fucking this man who indeed was old enough to be my father.

I could have kept at it, too, but I needed to fuck. I leaned up, wiped off the spit from my chin and reached down to wet my cock.

"There's lube and condoms," he said, nodding to the night stand. "I'm on PREP so do what you want, man." Again, that deep voice had my balls twitching.

I slathered on some lube and lined up my bare prick. Daddy was gonna get raw dogged. I gave a two-mississippi pause then pushed to enter him.

There was some snugness at the ring but otherwise no real resistance. I popped in, making the man grunt a little, but he braced his upper body, took a deep breath, then nodded. I pushed my way all the way in, deep into his hot tightness. I forgot how amazing a good fuck felt. Bottoming out, I gripped his waist and began a slow pump.

"Jesus, you're a big boy," he grunted, excitement in his voice.

"6-four," I teased, now fucking him with firmer strokes.

"I meant your cock," the daddy said.

"I know," I hissed. "You're taking that big dick."

"Christ, man," he replied. "Fuck me! Fuck me big guy!"

I did. Getting more and more into it. I was enjoying this position of holding his waist and using that leverage to pull his leaner muscular build onto my hard pistoning cock as much as I was pushing into him. But as I got more excited and more into the mounting pleasure, I felt a need for something more animalistic. Leaning forward, I covered his back with my muscular chest and torso and just started hammering him with hard short strokes.

"Oh fuck oh fuck," he hissed. Loving it, but feeling the challenge of taking me that way, given my strength.

It wouldn't take long though. I now supported my weight with one arm while the other one wrapped around him, pulling his hard body next to mine for maximum contact and steady penetration.

He too was braced on one hand now while the jerked off to my inward strokes.

He came a second before me, but it was a photo finish. I let out a deep heavy growl and enjoyed the most amazing orgasm I'd had in a LONG time.

He finally withdrew his hand and let my weight push him down into a flat lying position.

"Am I too heavy?" I asked as I kissed his neck softly. I didn't want to pull out just yet, the aftershocks felt pretty amazing.

"I'm good," came that deep voice. "I like it, actually."

I kissed him more, along his neck. It's a weird thing of mine. Some guys lose interest after getting their nut, but I get in a real romantic headspace after cumming. It's freaked some men out.

Daddy picked up on it. "I thought you'd be a fuck and go kind of guy," he said with a soft laugh.

"Sorry," I said, pushing myself up off him some.

"Don't apologize, it's nice."

I ran my hand along the man's arm. Strong, not as big as mine, but there's something about an older man that meant more seasoned muscle. "I know this is just a hookup," I said. "I just like talking with a guy I have sex with. I'm weird, I guess."

He got quiet, but his reply felt calm and measured. "We can grab brunch if you like. I can learn more about the guy who just gave me the fuck of my life."

"Yeah," I said.

Now as we uncoupled and rinsed off in the bathroom before getting dressed again, I was having second doubts, and maybe I was leading him on too much. I absolutely didn't want anything serious with this guy. After today, I'd probably half forget him. This was just my hormones talking.

He seemed to read me. "You OK, man?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

He gave me an empathetic look. "Don't worry, I know I'm just a piece of tail to you. But I'm starving... why don't we get a bite and then you can get back to your bachelor party duties?"

I smiled. "Sounds good," I said. I stepped up and kissed him, softly. Wrapping my arms around his waist and enjoying the height difference.

"My name's Curt," he said.

"Brendan," I said.

#drakestories

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vengeancevixen · 1 year

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This moment will be etched in my brain forever! Absolutely adore these guys! Panic! At The Disco! ❤️❤️❤️

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just-some-guy-joust · 9 months

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CONGRATULATIONS TO THE HOLLOW KNIGHT!!!

Hollow Hollow Knight managed to snag the win from Daniil Pathologic with a final 67% of the vote! Looks like the Bachelor has to look somewhere else for the first win he will ever get in his life. So sad

Congratulations as well to Lyfrassir Edda Mechanisms and Carmen Lobotomy Corp for snagging third place! And, of course, Mike Woe Begone and Hatchling Outer Wilds as our honorary third places because the people advocating for them were simply so kind <3 You guys did great!

Stay tuned for some other tournaments once I have ideas for them! <3 Thanks for sticking around for this one!

#meant to get this out a while ago but better late than never!#doomed by the narrative #doomed by the narrative showdown #lyfrassir edda #carmen lobotomy corporation #carmen lobotomy corp #hollow knight #the hollow knight #the mechanisms #mike walters #woe.begone #hatchling #outer wilds #daniil dankovsky #pathologic #-R

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sailor-aviator · 5 months

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Two Worlds

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: From a young age, the animal kingdom had fascinated you, and maybe that's why you chose to pursue that passion. You quickly became a force within the field, becoming the leading expert on ape social structures, which is how you found yourself on an expedition into the African jungles searching for a troop of gorillas. What you weren't expecting, however, was to run into the local wild man on one of your excursions... (Tarzan!AU)

Trigger Warnings: Talk of murder, Talk of infant abandonment, Jake and Javy being idiots. Think that covers it.

Word Count: 3k

Series Masterlist || Moodboard 1 || Moodboard 2 || Moodboard 3 || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw Tag List

The camp was situated in the middle of the dense jungle, various large tents surrounding the edges of the clearing with a couple of makeshift huts standing on the far side. It wasn’t a grand research facility by any means, but you still found yourself excited as you climbed out of the jeep, Jake and Bob not far behind you.

“Ice and Mav are somewhere around here,” Bob muttered, rounding the back of the jeep to grab your luggage.

“Ice and Mav?” You asked him, taking one of your suitcases from him and setting it on the ground.

“Oh, yeah,” he smiled bashfully. “That’s what they go by. Some old college names, I guess. Dr. Kazansky goes by ‘Ice,’ and Dr. Mitchell prefers it if people call him ‘Mav’ or ‘Maverick.’”

“Noted,” you grinned. Bob handed off the last of the luggage to Jake, leading the two of you towards the camp. Each tent seemed to house different equipment, and you could see the various scientific instruments as you passed by.

“We like to keep the work separate from the play,” Bob explained as the equipment tents gave way to what looked like living quarters. One of the tent flaps pulled back, revealing a handsome man with dark skin and hair cropped short. His eyes lit up at the sight of your little group, and a smile tugged on his lips.

“Oh, I guess they just invited anybody to come and work here, huh?” He joked, stepping out and walking up to you. You let out a laugh as you rolled your eyes playfully, quickly wrapping the man up in your arms.

“It’s good to see you too, Javy,” you laughed, pulling away so that he could wrap Jake in a matching hug.

“It’s good to see you, man. How long’s it been?” Jake asked, clasping him on the shoulder as the two broke apart.

“Been at least a year this August. Mike’s wedding, remember?”

“That’s right! Man, that bachelor party was-”

“If you two are finished,” you drawled, crossing your arms and giving them a pointed look. “I’d like to continue with the tour and find out which tent is mine.”

They both gave you sheepish looks before Bob gestured for you to follow. He led you to a smaller grouping of tents that surrounded a fire pit, various pots with pleasant aromas sitting atop the grill as they steamed and bubbled. You spotted two men sitting at one of the tables, and their heads perked up when they noticed you. One was all warmth, his dark hair cut short and blue eyes sparkling as he rose to greet you. The other was more stoic, his own eyes holding a sense of curiosity as they took your group in.

“We weren’t expecting you so soon,” the dark-haired man greeted, shaking your hand before moving to Jake. “Dinner isn’t quite ready.”

“No worries,” Jake shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Boots and I had a late lunch.”

“Boots?” The man questioned, turning a bemused smile towards you. You rolled your eyes and shot Jake a glare before giving him your name.

“I’m the primatologist,” you explained, earning a knowing nod from the man. “And are you Dr. Mitchell or Dr. Kazansky?”

“Well, I’m not technically a doctor,” the man laughed. “But I’m Pete Mitchell. You can just call me Mav or Maverick.”

“Not technically a doctor?” Jake asked, an eyebrow raised as he regarded Maverick.

“I think a lot of people just assume I’ve earned one since I follow Ice over here around everywhere,” Maverick smiled, nodding his head over at Dr. Kazansky. “But I never completed a doctorate or anything. That’s all him.”

“We keep him around to fix the generators and various other gadgets,” Dr. Kazansky chuckled, moving to stand. His grip was firm as he shook your hand, and you got the sense that he was the more reasonable and logical of the two. “We won’t keep you though. Bob, why don’t you show Boots here to her tent and Javy can help Jake get situated. You two must be tired after all that traveling.”

“That would be great, actually,” you smiled, already following after Bob towards the opposite side of the clearing. Another large tent stood a little ways away from everything, but not too far to where it would be a problem if anything were to happen, which you certainly hoped it wouldn’t.

“We figured you’d want some privacy,” Bob explained when you gave him a questioning look, drawing back one of the tent flaps to step inside. You followed suit, gazing around at the open space. A simple twin bed was pushed against the far wall, just sturdy enough to be considered permanent, or at least serve as a long-term accommodation. A desk was pushed on the opposite side of the tent, a simple shelf standing next to it, and you could see the wires running out of the tent to connect with the generator that sat closer towards the rest of the camp.

“I know it’s not much,” Bob said, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked over at you, “but we tried to make it a little nicer for you.”

“It’s wonderful, Bob, really,” you smiled, moving further into the tent to put your luggage down. “It’s more than enough for me. I’m touched you all thought to go this far.”

“It was Ice’s idea, actually,” he admitted. You nodded, making a mental note to thank the older researcher.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Bob hummed, giving you a small wave as he exited the tent, securing the flap open behind him. You made quick work of rolling up the blinds to the makeshift windows of your tent, allowing for the natural lighting to filter in through the mesh screens. You found several tubs for you to place your things in, quickly unpacking and placing them under your bed.

A strange feeling overcame you, like eyes on the back of your neck, and you looked around to see if one of the others had crept up behind you while you weren’t paying attention. You frowned when you saw no one, stepping closer towards the exit as you peered into the jungle. You didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything there. You quickly pulled the flap shut. Whatever was out there would at least have to try and get at you now.

The sun had set, the fire casting a warm glow of orange around the camp as the generators powered the various lamps surrounding the outskirts of the camp. Maverick was dishing out what looked to be some kind of curry mixture onto different plates, handing you one as you joined everyone near the fire pit.

“It’s not much,” he started, “but I wouldn’t say I’m the worst cook.”

You took a tentative bite, an explosion of flavor bursting on your tongue as you chewed.

“This is really good, Mav!” You exclaimed, shoveling another spoonful into your mouth.

“And that’s the other reason we keep him around,” Ice joked from his spot at the table. You chuckled as Jake plopped down next to you, bumping your shoulder with his.

“How’s your tent?” He asked, a smirk on his face as he took a bite of his food, humming pleasantly at the taste.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged, taking a sip of the water Bob handed you before taking his own seat across the fire. “It’s cozy. What about yours?”

“I’m bunking with Javy and Bob,” he replied, casting you a sly grin. “But if you’re lookin’ for a roommate-”

“Absolutely not,” you snorted. Jake sighed, a look of fake hurt on his face as you rolled your eyes.

“You would really make all three of us sleep in the same tent while you get one all to yourself?” He asked you, mirth shining in his green eyes.

You tapped your chin, pretending to think about your answer.

“Yes,” you nodded. “Yes, I would. Besides, you’d probably just stink up the place.”

Jake let out an indignant squawk as Bob and Javy laughed at him. Bob cast a look over at Mav who was placing the lid back on the pot.

“Are you going to leave any out for Bradley?”

“Who’s Bradley?” You asked, looking between the two men. Mav sat down across from Ice, letting out a sigh as he relaxed into the chair.

“Bradley,” Javy grinned, waggling his eyebrows at you, “is the wild man who lives in the jungle.”

“Be serious,” you scoffed, scowling at him.

“It’s true!” He exclaimed, looking at Bob for assistance. “He comes by the camp sometimes! Think I’ve seen him maybe five times since being here?”

“He’s around a lot more than you think,” Mav smirked, eyes cast towards the foliage of the jungle. “Those are just the times he’s let you see him.”

“Is he dangerous?” You asked, shifting a little closer towards Jake, but all the men shook their heads.

“Nah,” Javy sniffed. “He’s just a loner. Comes by when he wants food or needs stitched up.”

“Why doesn’t he just stay here?” Jake asked. Mav and Ice shared an uneasy look as a moment of silence passed over the camp.

“Because he doesn’t exactly feel comfortable around humans,” Ice offered, and you frowned.

“I don’t understand,” you said. “I thought he was a man?”

“He is,” Bob answered. “He just didn’t grow up around people.”

Maverick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “About twenty-seven years ago, our friends Carole and Nick Bradshaw-”

“The famous primatologists?” You asked, your eyes lighting up in recognition at the names. The two had been trailblazers in the field, their focus being on gorilla social structures. Their deaths had hit the community hard, and their work had been largely abandoned until you picked up where they left off a couple of years ago. It was one of the reasons you had been invited to the camp.

“Yes,” Maverick nodded, giving you a sad smile. “This was their camp originally. They lived and worked here for years, studying the local troops of gorillas. But, as I’m sure you know, poachers came after one of the troops, and the two died in the struggle.”

You had heard about the tragic story of their passing, but the looks on Tom and Mav’s faces sent a pang of sympathy through you.

“What very few people knew, though,” Ice frowned, “was that they had a son. He was only a few months old when they died, and everyone thought that he had died with them.”

“That’s terrible,” you gasped, your hands covering your mouth in shock.

“It was,” Maverick nodded. “But, he didn’t die with his parents like everyone thought.”

“What do you mean?” Jake questioned. “How does a baby survive out here on its own?”

“It doesn’t without help,” Ice stated, waiting for the two of you to catch on.

“Bradley was taken in by the troop of gorillas,” Mav provided when the two of you cast confused looks at them. “They raised him as one of their own. We had no idea he was out here until we reopened the camp ten years ago. We caught him going through one of the tents one day.”

“How do you know that it’s him?” Jake asked. “How do you know it’s Bradley?”

“Because he’s the spitting image of his father,” Maverick answered, earning a hum from Ice.

“I don’t know,” he drawled, scratching his chin. “Carole’s in there too somewhere.”

“So why didn’t he stay?” You questioned. “Why doesn’t he stay with you?”

“He never seemed all that interested,” Mav shrugged. “He’s curious about us, yes, but he doesn’t seem to want to leave the troop behind. He comes and goes as he pleases, and we let him.”

“We teach him what we can, of course,” Ice offered. “He’s a fairly quick learner, and he seems eager to learn when he is here. He shouldn’t give you any problems if he shows up.”

You turned to Maverick. “You said that he’s around more often than we think?”

“I did,” he nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, because,” you hesitated, “I thought I felt someone or something watching me earlier. I didn’t see anything, but the feeling was still there.”

“It was probably him,” Mav nodded, giving you a gentle smile. “The two of you are new, and he’s just gotten used to Javy being around. It’s no wonder he might have been watching.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” you smiled.

“I’m sure he won’t take too long to make an appearance,” Mav continued. “I give it a week before he comes slinking out from behind one of those trees.”

A week had passed and still no sign of the wild man. All of you had developed a comfortable rhythm in the camp. Ice would disappear into one of the tents, Bob trailing after him as they started pouring over the notes on the group of baboons that took up residence nearby. Maverick would go around camp fiddling with the different gadgets sitting around camp. Javy would set off first thing in the morning towards the colony of termites deep within the jungle, and Jake would hike out with him, bringing back plant samples by around midday. You, on the other hand, were stuck at the camp.

“It’s probably best you don’t go out searching for the gorillas by yourself,” Maverick had said. “They’re a hard group to find, and Bradley is very protective of them. He probably wouldn’t let you anywhere near them right now.”

So you were stuck at the camp, trying to find odd chores and jobs to keep you occupied so you felt at least somewhat useful. You had started with trying to help Maverick with his tinkering, but that had quickly become a no as you had little to no understanding of mechanics. You weren’t much help to Ice and Bob, barely able to keep up with their conversations despite your extensive knowledge of primates. You despised the way the termites crawled all over you when Javy went out to observe them, and Jake…well, Jake was Jake.

So you busied yourself with cooking meals and doing laundry, slowly acclimating to the heat and humidity of the jungle. You quickly exchanged your pants and shirts for shorts and tank tops, the combination giving you a slight reprieve from the oppressive combination that kept you constantly covered in a layer of sweat.

The feeling of being watched came and went, slowly becoming a near constant as the days went on.

It was the second day that you realized some of your belongings had been moved. You had set your laundry on your bed, folded into neat piles as you stepped out to go and check on the food for dinner. When you came back, the clothes were scattered on your bed, thrown haphazardly across the sheets.

The seventh day, you walked in to find your shampoo opened, a small puddle of the floral smelling liquid on your desk. You had pursed your lips, but cleaned it up wordlessly, making sure to tuck it securely back under your bed. Your cheeks had warmed the next morning, despite the heat, when you found a bundle of flowers placed neatly outside your tent. You had smiled, gingerly picking up the flowers and carrying them towards the camp where the others were already gathered.

“What are these?” Jake asked, coming up to inspect the flowers. You tugged them back when he reached out to grab one, a scowl on your face as you swatted at him.

“Hands off,” you snapped, skirting around him and towards the table.

“Where’d you get them?” He asked unperturbed, plopping down next to you on the bench.

“They were outside my tent this morning,” you replied, barely catching the look Ice and Mav gave one another. “Aren’t they pretty?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “They’re fire lilies.”

“You just found them outside your tent?” Maverick asked, eyeing the flowers in your hand.

“Uh huh,” you chirped. “I think I’m going to keep them on my desk.”

“Bradley seems to have taken a liking to you,” Ice said carefully. “He brought Javy a rhinoceros beetle when he first got here.”

“I didn’t know it was there until I crawled into bed and it bit me,” Javy frowned, shaking his head at the memory. You bit back a laugh, hiding your face in the palm of your hand.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to get the flowers?” Jake asked with a frown. “I mean, I’m the one here who’s studying plants.”

“Are you jealous?” You teased, earning a scowl from the blond. “He probably brought them for me because of my shampoo.”

“What do you mean?” Bob asked.

“I came back to my tent yesterday to find my shampoo sitting on my desk. It looked like someone had squeezed some of it out,” you explained with a shrug. “It smells like flowers, so maybe he thought I would like the flowers.”

“Interesting,” Maverick hummed, studying you. You shifted under his gaze, deciding to busy yourself with fixing a plate of food. Once you had settled back onto the bench, Jake turned to you.

“Do you wanna come with me to the waterfall tomorrow? I was going to go collect some samples of the algae growing there.”

You thought over his proposal. On one hand, you were bored to tears just sitting around the camp, waiting for any chance you could get to go try and catch a glimpse of the gorilla troop. On the other hand, you’d be stuck with Jake, and the man could be a tad controlling when in his element.

“Yeah, okay,” you nodded, deciding that dealing with a hyper-focused Jake was better than nothing. He grinned, tossing a piece of banana into his mouth.

“Great! We’ll leave bright and early!”

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