#fuck the fifth circuit
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For fuck’s sake. ‘If there was a problem back in 1823 but nobody passed a law to fix it then we can’t fix it now if guns.’ I’m sure people people can’t wait to be governed like it’s 1776 again.
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“But the appeals court decision on Wednesday kept the F.D.A.’s approval in place. It also kept in place a later approval of the generic version of the drug, which is now used in most medication abortions.
The main impact of the appeals court decision, if it is upheld by the Supreme Court, would be to reverse changes made by the F.D.A. in recent years that allowed patients to obtain the pill without visiting a doctor or other health provider in person. It would mean that patients would have to make three medical visits and could not receive the pills in the mail.”
#article#everything depends on the Supreme Court’s decision on this but this is a bad sign#fuck the fifth circuit#misogyny#abortion#gift link#us politics
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neighbor!abby hcs
warnings: nervous!abby, slightly pervy!abby, nsfw at the bottom, nipple play, pillow humping, strap mentioned, dacryphilia, breeding kink
• neighbor!abby who moves in on the twenty fifth of september, chilly air making her cheeks red and her breath seen while she moves boxes with a man. her biceps filled out her shirt beautifully from what you could see from the window in your bedroom
• neighbor!abby who grinned, freckles on display when you came to introduce yourself with a platter of cookies, eager and dolled up to meet your new neighbor, who took the house of the grouch old man who previously lived there.
• neighbor!abby who doesn't stop thinking about you after she shuts the door, taking a deep breath before returning to her friends who were celebrating the new house in her living room.
• neighbor!abby whose friends ask who was at the door and she blushes and tells them about the hot neighbor next door. they tell her that she should get to know you more and she says that she'll wait to see what happens.
• neighbor!abby who lied to her friends and makes up any excuse to see and talk to you. getting your mail? shes getting hers too. leaving for work? she's just getting home. somehow she finds a way to cram your routine into her already busy schedule as a nurse
• neighbor!abby who finally stops to have a full conversation with you one day outside as you both happened to return from work at the same time. she learned a lot about you; that you were a student, that you only lived in the neighborhood because your parents were paying for half of it, that you honestly didn't have the best relationship with your parents, and you learned a lot about her.
• neighbor!abby whose brain whirls and short circuits when she gets back to the comfort of her home and can focus on the interaction you two just had.
• neighbor!abby who accepts her fate when you start showing up in her dreams, and popping into her head when she releases some tension at night - fingers deep in her cunt and a pillow over her mouth while she fucked herself deep.
• neighbor!abby who notices you stop coming out of your house and assumed your schedule changed, until she learned that you had been sick for weeks.
• neighbor!abby who rakes the leaves in your yard and brings you food as often as she can while you're sick. who doesn't fail to notice the way you swoon every time she does - or maybe she's crazy.
• neighbor!abby who gets all blushy and nervous when you come to her house with food, asking to come in as a thank you for everything she did for you while you were sick.
• neighbor!abby who comes up to you at the neighborhood block party without anything to talk about, and let's you tell all the stories about everyone in the neighborhood that you want.
• neighbor!abby who asks you out that same night.
• neighbor!abby who is absolutely obsessed with you. starts planning your wedding the night after your date, empties a drawer for you for whenever you start sleeping over, buys your perfume and puts it on her clothes. ob. sessed.
• neighbor!abby who finally feels comfortable with her life when she moves in with you. you're her home, and she loves you <3
• neighbor!abby who fucks like a god
• neighbor!abby who bends you into a million different positions, just because she likes to see how flexible you are.
• neighbor!abby who gets off on you crying. overstimulates you so hard you cry, and she cums. absolutely loves it, and would frame a picture of you crying with her strap deep in you if she could.
• neighbor!abby who loves when you play with her nipples. fucks herself on your thigh while you suck her tits, she goes wild over it, and does the same to you if you ask - but certainly likes it more when you're on top.
• neighbor!abby who fucks herself in your bed when you go away on business trips, panties up to her face while she rides your pillow, cunt pushing harshly against the silk.
• neighbor!abby who's obsessed with the idea of breeding you. gets a special strap and everything just to pound you until her muscles cramp. loves to call you mama and tell you how good your pussy feels.
#abby anderson#tlou#tlou2#abby anderson smut#abby smut#abby anderson x reader#maya writes#abby the last of us#abby tlou#abby headcanons#abby fanfiction#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson tlou2
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Adrenaline Rush | Lando Norris x Reader
Genre: Blurb
Pairing: Lando Norris x wife!Reader
A/N: another request! This is the first time I've written something about actually driving a car and the race. Apologies for any mistakes.
yourusername
tagged f1
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, georgerussell63, and others
yourusername: It has been a tough journey, but worth it. Thank you to everyone who supported me. All those ups and downs- what a rollercoaster. Can't believe I have the honour of being the first female driver to win the World Championship, and I couldn't have done it without my family, my team, and most importantly, Lando, my sweetheart.
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landonorris: congratulations babe!
↳yourusername: I love you!
oscarpiastri: congratulations!
susie_wolff: well deserved!
racerbia: what an icon!!
“What the fuck was that?” You scream in the radio as you exit the pit lane.
Adrenaline surging high, twenty more laps to go. Yas Marina hasn't been your favourite circuit but it's the last one, and you're pushing towards the world championship.
You and Max have a difference of just a few points, and if you win today- you will be the first female driver who has won the world championship.
There's a lot of pressure.
You drop down to fifth in the grid, with your teammate, Charles ahead of you.
“Charles will make the way for you.” You hear on the radio as your overtake Charles.
Sitting in a F1 car, driving at the speed of 220mph, all you can hear is the sound of the engine over your own breath.
It's super hot. You can feel your body burning and sweat trickling down your face.
You push the car a little more to see Lando ahead of you.
“Two tenths of a second to catch up with Lando.”
“Copy.” You reply.
You're in the DRS zone of Turn 7. You push yourself as much as you can. Lando defends his position, but you're determined. With a few milliseconds you find yourself ahead of him.
“Good job, mate.” You hear on the radio.
You've climbed up to third. Ahead of you are Max and Checo.
“Checo will be pitting in this lap.”
“Copy.”
Checo goes in the pitlane and you climb up to the second place.
A few laps later, you see the yellow flag.
“Hope… everyone's okay…” You breathe heavily in the radio.
“Yes. Debris at Turn 13.”
Everyone slows down. You can see Max right in front of you. This is your chance.
A lap later, you can see the safety car moving.
The race is about to begin again.
You take a deep breath in, ready to push yourself to the maximum.
Green flag waves and you accelerate the car. Max is in front of you, defending really well.
You’re about to reach Turn 7, ready to overtake Max. You try to go into the left corner and he comes ahead, and then you push yourself a little more before overtaking him at the edge of the track.
You whisper a silent thank you.
“Well done, mate.”
Max tries to take his position back. But you stand firm.
You're defending really well so far. You focus on building up a race pace.
It's the last lap of the race.
You've been warned that Max is behind you, trying to overtake.
You push a little further, and you can almost see him coming to the right but you accelerate the car and within a few milliseconds you're ahead of him, just as the chequered flag waves.
“Congratulations!” You hear on the radio.
“Oh my god.” You scream.
You can hear cheers in the background.
You slow the car down.
You won.
You freaking won.
You see Max sliding up next to you, giving you a thumbs up. You respond back with a thumbs up.
You take the car towards the podium area where the Ferrari mechanics are waiting for you.
You park the car, getting out and standing up on it.
“Yes,” you shout loudly as you take your helmet off.
You see Max and Lando coming from behind.
You smile at Lando, before he runs towards you and kisses you.
You won. And your husband stands third.
“I love you, babe.” You tell him and he smiles at you.
You wave at the audience as you walk up the podium right next to your husband. There are cheers. Everybody is super proud.
You're the World Champion for 2023- an inspiration for every girl out there. People like you set an example that dreams can be achieved, so don't be afraid to dream big.
#f1#formula 1#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris drabble#lando norris x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x reader#ln4 leclercings#ln4 x y/n#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 blurb#ln4#leclercings#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you
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I feel like, Young!Pathetic!Konig would do REALLY well with a Older!Lady-Cougar!Reader, She's maybe been divorced twice and looking ta maybe become widowed this time? May-haps her current hubby has wealth and power but is a few screws short of being a good man towards our poor reader, and there's that Pesky prenup that makes it so she won't get ANYTHING in a divorce...buuuttt if the bastard has a bit of an....*Oopsie doodle*....
Maybe she's looking for someone to take care of her problem, and maybe she likes this young soldier boy, whose all too happy to help with *whatever needs* she might have? Likes how desperate he is for just her hand on his arm, likes how he's on his need begging for just a *taste* Likes that she can teach him how to please a woman, how to make her moan like no lover before....Likes how willing he is to kill the man she's married too...
Asfdf my brain short circuited ❤️ I know I said somewhere that I don’t write cheating but if it’s cheating a bad man with an even worse man König….
CW: 18+ MDNI. Age difference, F!dom/M!sub undertones, praise kink, cheating (your husband is an old dick), mating press & other shenanigans, murder & mentions of blood, König is a lovesick yandere in the making.
It was just one night.
Just one night to satiate your needs because your husband for sure never takes care of them.
But then the young pup you picked off from the pub pops into your workplace next week... With a large bouquet of flowers in his hand and a box of chocolate in the other, your desperate little “detour” looks like a boy who just got laid for the first time in his life.
“König…” you sigh and pull him to an empty breakroom before all your colleagues see you’ve cheated on your beloved husband with a man at least ten years younger than you.
“You can’t be here,” you start, trying to ignore the happy, greedy stares this little—big—soldier gives you.
He’s all the equal to his alias, looking like a king in the making with those wide shoulders and that fierce stare. But his hands are shaking, he guides those eyes to the floor as he puts the gifts on the table littered with crumbs and coffee stains, switches his weight from one foot to the other once you start to tell him how it is.
He listens dutifully as you try to explain how it was only one night, that he was incredibly lovely and you had so much fun but that you can’t see each other anymore. It was wrong of you to do so in the first place, you’re married, and you’re so, so sorry... You were just so sad and lonely.
You tell him he’s a good man. That he’ll find someone special, some lovely girl to call his own. He will find someone who can give him what he wants, someone who will cover him with kisses for bringing her flowers and sweets.
You try to explain it to him even as you get slowly chased into a corner, you try to tell him what a catch he is even when you get pinned to the wall by a hard, lean chest.
You try to tell him that he’s the perfect man for some other girl even when he pulls your strings aside and bullies his cock inside you.
One minute is all it takes as he huffs and groans and fucks you against the wall, your moans and his grunts barely muffled by shirts and fists and lips and skin. There’s lipstick on his clean, white shirt after he’s done with you, teeth marks where his shoulder meets his neck, a spittle of cum on your skirt as he pulls it down with shaky hands.
“Sorry,” he murmurs in your ear. “I just had to see you. I missed you so much...”
Your cunt is what he missed, any woman could see that. Got a taste of it last weekend and wouldn’t let you leave his place at all; a small, miserable flat of 25 square meters, with burned rice on the stove and a thin, cum-stained mattress on the floor. He fucked you on that mattress, four times because on the fifth attempt to part your shaking thighs, you told this horny lad you need to go home.
“I know, big boy. I missed you too. But you need to go now,” you say to your pretty lover. Ugly but pretty, in his own way, his utter lack of cruelty is what makes him beautiful in your eyes.
“I don’t want to,” he dares to argue back and claims your mouth, kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before.
“You have to,” you moan. “König–”
“I love you.”
You’re huffing, panting into each other’s throats as you realize he’s even younger than you thought. Fell in love with your cunt so easily, this big runt, thinks it’s meant to be just because you’re wet and he’s hard.
“Don’t be silly,” you huff and look at the drowsy smile, the messy state of this lovesick man before you fight your way out of his lap.
You want to cry, wail, scream from the injustice. Where was this silly young golden retriever six months ago? Why didn’t you meet him when you were single and sweet? Now you’re trapped in an unhappy marriage with some old fool who was cunning enough to trick you into a ludicrous deal with him. The prenupt you discovered only later, after he swore that you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life and that everything that belonged to him would be yours one day. In reality, you’ve had to beg for every crumb, act the part of a trophy wife who also has to work herself to death. And he won’t even fuck you, only wants you to massage his back and his cock while you’re left all alone without love, without a single kind word.
But König never lets you go: not in a way you beg him to, no, he always shows up at your door. Sneaks into your lonely room from the window, licks you to ruin while you laugh and tell him no, fucks you three times a night, crawls under the bed when a cleaning lady almost catches you two. He shows up at cafes, restaurants, conferences, parties, everywhere where you go but your husband won’t.
He’s so reckless that you have to teach him to be more patient, more gentle. You guide his fingers and his head, even his cock, while locking your eyes with his so that he knows when he’s doing it right. You praise him for a good, unhurried fuck, cup his face and kiss him when he gives it to you nice and slow. Anyone can see he'd want to ram it in until there’s nothing left of him and you, but you kiss and kiss and kiss him until the poor boy moans and cums without permission, just from that tiny taste of intimacy and love.
He gets pets, smooches and caresses, blowjobs that leave him shaking and breathless on the bed. He looks like he has no brains left after you’re done with him, looks a little helpless when you climb on top of him and help yourself with his cock after he only just came.
He’s always up in no time, especially if you tell him he did well. Stares at you and your breasts like you’re a vision from heaven, drools on them once when you won’t let him have a lick. Mopes when you laugh at his predicament, and won’t stop brooding even when you give him a kiss on the tip of his nose.
But he’s never mad at you for long, not if you call him sweetie or your silly apple crumb, not if you let him fall asleep in your bed, partly on top of you. There’s always a wet spot on your back if he’s the big spoon, he begs you to sleep naked as he does, says it’s better for your health and then teases you with his fingers come morning, probably thinking he’s so very clever. Takes you to the theater and offers you expensive port wine and cake, tells you how to steal a car, how to shoot any gun. Gives you a hungry kiss in public when you tell him he has to act like he’s your cousin from abroad, vanishes for weeks to his training, sends letters instead of texts, and tells you he’s going to be a big boss someday.
It’s hard to imagine this serious but silly mess as an intimidating officer, not even when you know he has the size and looks for it. He’s too innocent and needy, doesn't know how the real world works yet. Thinks he’s immortal just because he’s young...
There’s a certain darkness in him, and you mistake it for the remnants of some turbulence of his teenage years, just some wrath of a boy who never got what he wanted. Who wouldn’t be a little pissed and impatient in their twenties? He probably doesn’t even know what he wants: hell, you don’t know what you want.
“Like this...?” He asks demurely when he lifts your knees to your ears and sinks his cock into you inch by inch, carefully as if it’s the first time you’re making love.
“Just like that,” you whisper as he spreads you so wide you can’t even breathe, fills you up deliciously, like no one else before. His eyes never leave you, not even when he uses your hole as a place to bury himself and all his bad memories, not even when he makes you squirt like you’re nothing but an oasis in a desert that never ends.
But you know he comes to you for other things than just that.
He comes to you for kind words, breathy praise, soft touches and ruffles of his hair. He comes to you for practice and to get his sense of self in order. He’s your pretty knight in shining armor when others have called him ugly, he’s your strong bull when others have ridiculed his disproportionate limbs. He’s your safe haven, your sunshine, your crazy, silly man, your soldier and your savior, and he soaks up your love and attention like a sponge: every drop gets gulped down like he’s a man dying of thirst. He doesn’t take sips, he doesn’t know how to, and you on the other hand don’t know how to quench the raging drought inside him, long after yours has been satiated.
You sleep like Romeo and Juliet just before their death, and fuck like rabbits in the spring. He takes you in the car, in the closet, in the toilet, in other people’s beds, even at the alley one night.
“I love you,” he always says after he has spilled his cum – it’s like a ritual or a prayer, and you always reach for the baby hairs of his neck in return, and give them the gentlest caress.
“I love you too,” you whisper one night – it just slips when you stroke his cheek. It never comes as a surprise that he gives you the most miserable pair of puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.
He knows about your situation, knows enough that you’re trapped and unhappy. But you never knew he saw you as a victim. If anything, you feel like he’s the victim here. Poor boy, saving what little he has for a future with some woman who knows nothing about true love... You’re not the one for him, you’re not even a silly little sex kitten any young soldier would want to play with. You’re just some bored, abandoned wife who wants to feel something, mean something to someone. But you love him enough to know that you’ll let him go when he wants to move on. As bitter as it makes you feel, you know you’ll give him to someone younger and more beautiful, someone who will love as passionately as he does. Anything to make him truly happy.
But the next evening, König doesn’t climb in through your window. He uses the door, the inside door, and you jump from the bed and hurry to him in your nightgown, the only gift your husband ever gave you.
“I killed him for you,” he says, your soldier boy from Austria, your good, good boy with a good, big cock.
You only now see that his hands are stained in blood, and nothing shakes anymore: your wannabe sniper is as calm as ever when he confesses he’s murdered someone.
“...What?”
He comes to you and cups your face, the blood on his hands both wet and cold. You’ve never seen him so peaceful, not even after he’s had a good fuck. The boy who no one ever loved has turned into a man, but what kind of man… You shiver in his clutch, unsure if you’re about to suffer a heart attack from fear or love.
“He didn’t suffer... Much,” he says, his cracked lips only a breath away from yours. “Knives can be messy…”
You gulp while staring into the deep, dark abyss of his eyes, the innocent baby blue nearly swallowed by the darkest of all loves.
This is not how you thought things would go… You were supposed to give the old man the finger and divorce during the summer. Put your finances in order so that you can escape. Maybe fuck König on the side and see if he’s still the man of your dreams once you’re happily divorced.
Now he’s telling you you’ll marry as soon as possible, or that if you want a summer wedding, he can wait a few months… He tells you you have nothing to worry about, he won’t go to jail, not this time. He’ll take care of you now; he just got promoted. You don’t ever have to be sad again.
“Don’t worry, my love,” he says when all words have finally escaped you. “Now we can be together. Forever…”
#könig x reader#d/s dynamic#sub könig is fine with me if he tries to top from the bottom or becomes totally unhinged in order to prove his love ^^#he's a switch he just doesn't know it
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Hiiii,,
Im in a very angsty mood and was wondering if u could write charles x driver!reader where reader gets in a crash similar to jules’? Maybe have her in the hospital for a bit and charles is scared that he’ll lose her? Thanks ahead of time. Hope u have a nice day!
thanks for this request! I made the effort to write angst, since it is the first time I do it. I hope you like it!!
Fighter | cl16
Summary: where you have a serious accident on the track and Charles's memories of it aren't the most pleasant ones.
Warning: a little bit of angst, a worried and scared Charles, injured reader, some swearing.
a/n: This is the first time I've tried to write angst, so sorry if it's not quite perfect. There's going to be a little point of view from Charles. Let me know if you want a part two of this <3
Part 2
“Are you excited about the race, coeur?” Charles asks you as you enter the paddock. (heart)
You nod. “Yep! I think we can give Red Bull a good fight, and you? Are you excited?” you ask him as you stop to sign some autographs for the fans.
“As long as you don't pass my shiny red car on track, everything's fine.” He says and you roll your eyes with a smile, he giggles.
You two have been a couple for years, specifically since you were both racing in European F4, and although it took you a bit to get up to F1, you finally did it and this was your fifth season. You currently race for Mercedes and there is always that rivalry with the Prancing Horse, a rivalry which you both do not pay much attention to since, if it were up to you, you would support each other on the track as you do off track. You are the most loved and appreciated couple in the paddock, people love the dynamic of the two of you, how you are with each other and so on, and knowing each other from karting and then being a couple and staying together until now is not for everyone.
“Well, I think it's time, see you honey!” you said as you walked up to him to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Be safe, okay?”
“You too chérie!” He said as he also gave you a kiss on the cheek and you both walked to your respective teams. “Love you!”
You enter the Mercedes hospitality and go up to your driver's room and change into your racing suit and then go to the starting grid. Everyone was making the final preparations to start the race and the formation lap, you start in 4th position behind Fernando Alonso and in front of Esteban Ocon, maybe you have to make a good start, but you are confident that you can reach the podium together with Max —who starts first and Charles —who starts second... It's going to be a busy race.
***
So far the race is going well, already in the last part of the race, you are in third place fighting with Max for second place, there is a chance of rain but nothing to worry about...
Or at least that's what you thought...
The track began to get very wet even though it was a "light drizzle" and overtaking became a difficult task, likewise, no driver went into the pits to change tires and there was no warning from the FIA as to whether the drizzle was going to evolve into a storm.
Fighting with Max for second place, you got lost and the car took a turn until the nose was almost inside the net that separates the track from the stands, your head, despite having the helmet, was pushed back... You only remember the big impact against the barrier and your head going numb.
Charles' pov
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please tell me y/n is okay?” I tell my track engineer as I see Y/n's car under the barrier.
“Apparently not, but they say she's fine.” my engineer answers.
But of course she's not fine, fuck it, she's not fine at all. All the cars line up on the pit line while y/n's strong crash repeats on the screens of the circuit, I get out of the car upset and needing answers.
“Shit, shit shit. Why the hell didn't they report about the rain? They think this is a fucking game?” I say to myself as I take off my helmet and throw it somewhere in the box, Andrea hands me a bottle of water and I take it. “I don't understand, I... The same thing can't be repeated, fuck it.” I murmur as I place my head in my hands. “It's incredible that years go by and the same old fucking shit is always repeated, because of them and their inability.”
Upon hearing over the circuit loudspeakers that the race was not going to resume, Andrea takes me to the Ferrari hospitality and I go up to my driver's room where I change out of my racing suit for my Ferrari t-shirt and a pair of jeans, I don't mind going to the "podium" like that and standing in first place, I just need to know if she's okay.
A couple of years ago I lost important people thanks to the same reason: a racing accident, both were horrible accidents that left a mark on me but none like the one I just witnessed. First it was my sports godfather, Jules, his accident left me scarred for life, thanks to this a new safety device was implemented —which doesn't do much to be honest. He died thanks to an accident that left him in a coma for months... Every day I went with my father to the hospital to see him, to see if he was still with us. Then it was one of my childhood friends thanks to karting, Anthoine, It was in an F2 race on the same circuit where hours later I would take the pole position that would give me my first victory in F1, but what happened to him was instantaneous... The next day they announced that he had passed away, my first victory was dedicated to him.
Just as I'm on my way to the "podium" Fred and Toto pull me from the side. “They take y/n to the hospital.” Fred says looking at me.
“Shit... Fuck, why her? Damn tell me if she's...” I couldn't finish speaking because Toto interrupted me.
“Go with her kid.”
“We'll take care of the rest, but go with her.” Fred says, patting me on the back and I run to Andrea to look for my things in the hospitality so I can go, I feel frustrated with myself and I know it's not my fault, but I wish it hadn't happened to her.
***
The sterile white of the ceiling swims into focus as your blurry vision starts to clear a little but you can't fully open your eyes. A rhythmic beeping cuts through the silence of the room. You try to speak, but your throat feels raw and unused. Strained voices filter in from beside your bed.
“...How long has it been? Do they know anything yet?” says Charles with his voice tight with worry.
A female voice is heard, calm but firm. “Mr. Leclerc, we're doing everything we can. The doctors will be with you shortly to explain the results of the scans.”
”But it's been hours!” says Charles with cracked voice. ”Can't they just tell me if she's going to be fucking alright?”
You hear the soft rustle of clothing and a sigh. The beeping quickens slightly.
“We're doing everything we can, dear. She's a strong girl.” The nurse says leaving the room.
He squeezes your hand again, his voice dropping to a frustrated whisper. His eyes don't leave your face.
“Just like Jules... just like Anthoine... why does this always happen? Why you my dear?” he says to himself. “I wish... I wish it had been me and not you amore.”
The door creaks open and the doctor enters the room. Charles straightens up, a flicker of hope in his eyes.
“Doctor, you have an update?” Charles asks.
“We've run some additional tests. There seems to be a minor head injury causing some swelling. It's putting pressure on...”
Charles doesn't wait for him to finish. “Is it serious? When will she wake up?”
The doctor sighs. “It's difficult to say for sure, Mr. Leclerc. Head injuries are unpredictable. But we're monitoring her closely.”
Charles lets out a defeated sigh. The doctor places a hand on his arm.
“She's a fighter, Mr. Leclerc. Just like you.” The doctor says and then leaves the room and gives way to the nurse.
Charles manages a weak nod, his gaze returning to your still form. He leans closer, his voice barely a whisper.
“Come on y/n, wake up. We have a race to win... together.” he whispers.
A faint flicker of movement beneath your eyelids goes unnoticed by everyone in the room. A single tear rolls down your cheek, tracing a path through the dust collected on your hospital gown. The faint movement under your eyelids becomes more pronounced. Your brow furrows slightly, as if struggling against the weight of unconsciousness. A soft groan escapes your lips.
Charles' head snaps up, his eyes widening in disbelief. He leans in closer, his voice thick with emotion.
”Y/n? Can you hear me love?” Charles says whispering.
Your eyes flutter open, blurry and disoriented. The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room assault your vision. You let out a low moan, squeezing your eyes shut again in protest.
“Hey, hey, easy. It's okay, you're safe, you're in the hospital.” he says urgently.
A wave of nausea washes over you. You try to speak, but your throat feels raw and scratchy. ”Charles...?” you say weakly.
Your voice comes out in a hoarse rasp, it's barely a whisper, but to Charles, it's the sweetest sound in the world. A relieved smile breaks across his face.
“There you are! Don't you ever scare me like that again, okay?” His voice slightly breaks.
He reaches out and gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is warm and comforting, the nurse speaks.
“How are you feeling y/n?” the nurse asked softly.
You try to lift your head, but a sharp pain shoots through it. You wince and let out a small cry.
“Easy, easy, don't try to move princess.” he says concerned.
“What... What happened Charles?” you said with a little confusion in your voice.
“You had a big crash during the race, don't you remember?” he asked softly.
You shake your head slowly, wincing again. Images flash in your mind — the roar of the engine, the blur of the track, the sickening impact...
“The car... The rain... I... I lost control” you whisper.
Tears well up in your eyes, the memory of the crash is terrifyingly vivid. Charles takes your hand in his, his grip strong and reassuring.
“It's okay love, you're okay now. That's all that matters.” he whispers.
He squeezes your hand gently, a silent promise hanging between you. The ordeal is far from over, but for now, the simple act of holding hands speaks volumes. You've survived the crash, and with Charles by your side, you'll face whatever comes next, together. You manage a weak smile at him, the sound of his voice a grounding presence. However, the celebration is short-lived. A dull ache throbs behind your eyes, intensifying with each passing second. You squeeze your temples shut, trying to push the pain back.
“Hey, what's wrong?” he asks, noticing your discomfort.
You open your eyes, a grimace forming on your face. “My head... it feels like it's splitting open.”
The nurse step forward. “That's normal after a head injury, dear. We gave you some pain medication earlier, but it might be wearing off... Let me check your vitals again, okay?”
The nurse bustles around you, taking your temperature and blood pressure. Charles doesn't take his eyes off you, his concern evident.
“Is it serious? Should they give you more medicine?” Charles asked.
“Let's see how she's doing first... Y/n, can you turn your head for me, please? Slowly, to the left and then the right.”
You try as instructed, but a searing pain shoots through your neck, making you flinch and cry out. Tears well up in your eyes again, a mix of frustration and fear.
”See? She can't even move her neck! There's something wrong!” Charles says quite alarmed and almost furious.
“It's alright, Charles. It's likely just muscle stiffness from the impact. We can give her some medication and a neck brace for support.” The nurse says calmly.
“Will I ever be able to race again?” you say a little worried with a trembling voice.
The question hangs heavy in the air, Charles reaches out and strokes your cheek gently. ”Don't worry about racing right now, you need to focus on getting better. We'll figure out the rest later.”
His voice is firm, but his eyes hold a flicker of worry. He knows how much racing means to you... For both of you it is the most important thing in your lives, but now that is in the background.
”Exactly... Right now, rest is the most important thing. We'll get you the medication you need, and we'll monitor your progress closely.” The nurse says as she looks for medicine and the neck brace.
The nurse injects a new pain medication into your IV. The relief is slow, but it gradually takes the edge off the throbbing in your head. The nurse places the neck brace on you, although it needs to be tight, as this prevents neck mobility. You lean back against the pillows, exhaustion washing over you.
“Get some sleep, love. You'll feel better I promise.” he smiles weakly.
You nod weakly, your eyelids drooping. Despite the pain and uncertainty, a sliver of hope flickers within you. You're surrounded by love and support, and that makes all the difference.
As you drift off to sleep, you hear Charles whisper a promise in your ear.
“Everything will be okay baby, I promise... Just stay here with me, okay?” He says and you give a slight thumbs up, you feel your whole body weak and destroyed.
The road to recovery will be long and arduous, but with Charles by your side, you know you can face it head-on, even with a throbbing head and a stiff neck.
The fear of not racing again persists in you, but obviously it is not something you can control, Besides, you don't know exactly if you will spend months off the track. What you do know with great certainty is that you have Charles' constant support and that is enough for you.
#formula one x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles x reader#charles leclerc#charles x you#mariclerc fics
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Modern Mizu hears you like a bit of 'danger and excitement' from one of your friends, so she takes you to an underground fighting ring for like, your fifth date. This is after the gun range fiasco, so you've already seen a side of Mizu that not many have been allowed to see.
When she mentions this idea you're like, so fucking excited but still kinda like??? There's one of these here????? Nearby????? Holy shit yes???? Please?????? That's so cool?????
She specifically avoids answering how she knows it exists. This isn't about her. This is about sharing an experience she loves and you've shown interest in.
She picks you up on her bike (because Of Course she would have a motorbike that's like either this hand-me-down or a fixer-upper she restored) and you go. It's exactly what you thought it would be, off vibes and dodgy people, but being with Mizu somehow makes you feel safe because she's confident. But it's not an arrogant kind of confidence, it's a steady, assured sort of confidence that puts you right at ease as she takes your hand and leads you through the crowd.
Now, something you don't know is this is not Mizu's stomping grounds. Not even close. But she knew it by name and reputation and it was close enough you could both make a night out of it rather than three. Although... she wouldn't mind if that were to happen--
She snaps back to reality when you step forward and holler out encouragement to the scrawnier one of the two currently in the ring. The corner of her mouth quirks at your enthusiasm, a brow lifting and a hip popping as she crosses her arms to just. Watch you. As you lose yourself to the energy of the room.
The match ends with the scrawny one getting his ass handed to him by the dude built like a brick shit-house. She expected as much. It takes a certain amount of skill to be able to take a mountain of a man like that down while having such a slight build. She'd know, after all.
Anyway. Everything is going swimmingly until some prick pushes his luck trying to get your attention. You very bluntly tell him he's barking up the wrong tree and he does not take the rejection well. Mizu tries to not intervene directly with your battles too often. You're a capable person, it's one of the things she lov- likes. Likes about you.
But then the burly fuck reaches for you. You smack his hand away and go to headbutt him. She grabs you by the waist before you could start the climb to reach and if you weren't so riled up you might have short circuited at the feel of her calloused hand on your skin.
"This bitch yours, mutt?" He grunts to Mizu, and you see fucking red.
"You fucking dare call her a mutt you jumped up little cun--"
"Yes," she says over you, calm as a still lake, and you do actually short circuit at Mizu calling you 'hers'. The heat of anger in you switches gears to something far sweeter, but no less scalding.
"And I would appreciate it if you didn't upset her," Mizu says, her fingers trailing to your hip and gripping a belt loop possessively. You can suddenly feel every point of contact. Hip, arm, chest...
That's when the man looks at Mizu. Really looks at her with a lean forward and squinted eyes, looking over her tinted shades.
"Onryo," he breathes, and you feel Mizu tense behind you. She hadn't heard that name for a good long while. It was a name from her troubled youth. One she thought was long behind her since going legit.
"You're a long way from home, demon."
"What of it?"
You could sense something was happening as the two spoke in what you thought was an amicable tone, but then Mizu is pulling you behind her and shedding her jacket. You take hold of it instinctively as she went to drop it on the ground and she finally turns your way.
"Everything is fine," she tells you in that same confident tone, but she must see your confusion and anxiety written on your face because she takes your chin in her hand and gives you a quick peck on the lips. You stand there with a stupid, dumbstruck look she grins at as she--
She's heading to the ring. She's heading to the middle of the ring and she's shedding another layer as she climbs over the freshold oh dear gods you don't know what to do. What to think. Holy fucking shit she's right there in a sports bra and baggy pants while wrapping her knuckles-- where did she get wrappings from?????
You're more than short circuiting at this point. You need a soft reboot. Maybe a full reboot at this rate since she's sliding off those tinted glasses and-- oh.
You see her eyes.
You've seen them before, of course. But not like this. Not with this intensity behind them. Like she's looking right through her opponent to predict every single movement his future self might consider making. That indomitable focus had you flushing with heat from head to toe as you watched, mouth parted, breaths quickening.
She floors a man twice her size and three times the bredth and your knees might give out. Are you swooning? You might just be fucking swooning holy fuck--
But then she gets gut punched and then tackled by a secret second opponent and you snap back into the whole situation.
You scream out encouragement to Mizu until your lungs feel dry, and then you scream some more. You want to be the loudest. You want Mizu to hear you and know you're rooting for her while she wipes the floor with these cheating bastards.
There's four of the fuckers now. Four all dressed in similar... you hesitate to call them uniforms. More like they all shopped at the same tec-wear store at the same time. But shit are they fast. You have the slightest moment of worry when you see the glint of metal fly past in one of their fists--
Mizu breaks thier arm with a sickening twist and a wet 'crack', and you think you might never have been so turned on in your entire fucking life.
(And also you might need to address and analyse some things about yourself later...)
The metal drops to the floor with an audible clang and a loud noise goes off somewhere. You're going to be honest, you're not really paying attention to anything else other than how Mizu moves around her opponents. Even outnumbered she holds her own, muscles coiled and yet her movements are smooth like flowing water. You can't help but think of the type that wears away cliffsides and cracks apart mountains, because that's what she's doing. She's fighting smart where they're fighting with force, and she is kicking their fucking asses--
Others converge on the ring, the crowd flooding in to hold them all down and you can't help but notice it takes five fully stacked men to hold Mizu down. And even then that only lasts about seven seconds before she breaks free, methodically picking them all off one by one before she launches herself into the now turbulent crowd.
That's when you panic, shouting for her while elbows and shoulders send you this way and that. You narrowly dodge a fist to the face before a hand grabs yours. You're ready to swing right back when you lock eyes with those sharp blues you so adore.
You both book it out, avoiding flailing limbs and thrown table legs. You've somehow still got Mizu's jacket in the crook of your arm when you both make it outside and keep running, only stopping when the sound of sirens was long, long off in the distance.
You're both curled over in a dark, dank alleyway, breaths haggard and coming out as clouds in the crisp night air.
You look up from your knees, ass pressed against the brick wall to support your wobbly legs, and you can't help but crack a grin when you see Mizu in a similar state, only just realising what the fuck just happened.
The grin breaks into a laugh when Mizu looks to you with a bright smile of her own, it's a wheezing thing at first, but then it becomes a full belly laugh when she joins you. And oh, is that such a rare sight. Mizu losing herself in a laugh and then looking at you with the most beautiful full face smile you've ever seen in your life.
Your giggles die in the face of that smile, replaced with a quiet awe and probably the dumbest looking lovesick stare--
Steps. Multiple steps approach the alley and Mizu's first and only instinct is to hide and protect you, pressing you back against the wall and covering your mouth with her hand, catching your yelp of surprise before it could really become an external sound.
And ohhhhh, what a predicament you find yourself in. Pinned to a wall by this very strong and capable and, evidentally, dangerous woman who took you out tonight to a place you would only dream of going to and protected you the entire time and then caused a room wide fight to break out that she was, up until that point, winning--
Ohhhh my phone is currently dying a death imma have to post and carry on later because my brain is a bastard that way 🙃
#modern mizu#bes mizu#mizu blue eye samurai#mizu x reader#mizu x you#mizu x y/n#underground fighter mizu#I WROTE SOMETHING#HAHA! TAKE THAT BRAIN BLOCK!#HOPE YOU ENJOY#tw fighting#tw violence#but i mean#its bes#eitger way better safe than sorry#fem reader#ish
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━━ ✶✶˖° 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 | 𝗡𝟰𝗦.
𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀) ━ 2019 to 2023!f1 grid x driver!female oc
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ━ lewis responds to what arabella said in drive to survive starting a little rivalry between them
𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 ━ 2019, 31st march
𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ━ manama, bahrein
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ━ angst because bella tries to push everyone away, lewis being confusing and cursing
𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ━ not an accurate description of a race (i don't really know how to write that so this will do) btw seb is not going to be in the grid until 2021 bc you know we need that seat for bella but he will appear so don't worry
𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ━ @namgification @louvrepool @d3kstar @omgsuperstarg @whoselly @yl90
• — need for speed’s masterlist
HER leg, clad in the red race suit, moved up and down. She bit the inside of her left cheek and played with the sleeve of her shirt. She was in her garage sitting on a bench that she had found, her car surrounded by her mechanics was not far from her.
She looked around her: this was definitely different from Formula Two.
Today was her second race in Formula One and for some reason she was nervous unlike the first one in which she felt nothing but excitement and adrenaline. Yesterday she qualified in fifth place so she had a good chance of winning or at least getting on the podium which was good news but the spaniard couldn't help but self-sabotage and think that she wasn't going to win.
Her anxiety began to take hold in her stomach and she couldn't help but think about her teammate. Last night they had confessed their feelings to each other and between kisses and whispers they fell asleep, which was special for her but when Arabella opened her eyes and quietly slipped out of the room to get ready to go to the circuit, reality crashed into her, giving her a slap all over the face.
Now she was in a relationship? –They hadn’t come to anything since they didn’t had time to talk but let's leave it at that– with her teammate which, according to the small print of their contract, was strictly prohibited so if they were discovered they could be fired in addition to the fact that it would be a scandal, they would call her everything and they would surely believe that it would be a point in favor of why there should be no women in Formula One and she knew that, unfortunately, Charles, just because he was a man, would not come out as badly as her.
She covered her face with her hands trying to block out the light and took in as much air as her lungs would allow before releasing it again. She had to talk to Charles and make things clear, but first she had to forget about that and focus on her career.
She called herself a fool in the four languages she knew. She was supposed to be smart, she had to think things through, know in advance all the possible scenarios that could arise as a result of her actions. She couldn't make mistakes, she was in the spotlight of thousands of people. She was Arabella Torres, the girl who had make it to Formula One at just eighteen years old and who was causing a sensation in the world of sports. She couldn't allow herself to make mistakes, not after everything she had suffered to get to where she was now, not after everything she had said. She couldn't make a fool of herself like that.
She would be a shame to her family, her friends and most of all to the women around the world that she represented. She wanted to make history and change it, she wanted to be the one who made the path easier for others but she couldn't do it if two months after debuting she was caught with her partner's tongue down her throat.
"Fuck," she cursed in a whisper in spanish, removing her hands from her face. Some leather moccasins were present in her field of vision, she looked up, meeting Alexander, her man of the radio, looking at her cautiously.
“You seem worried, are you okay?” The man, who was in his fifties and reminded her of her grandfather, asked.
She shook her head, releasing a sigh that she didn't know she contained. She faked a small smile "I'm a little nervous about starting in fifth position."
“You'll do well, I'm sure” He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a couple of pats as a sign of support “Who knows, maybe you'll win this race.”
"I wish" her smile changed to a real one, winning would definitely make her day better.
The half brit half italian smiled back, tightening his grip on her shoulder before letting go and pointing to his ears. “Don't worry, I'll be with you.”
She smiled tenderly before opening her mouth to answer him but she was interrupted when she heard one of the mechanics say Charles' name, then she heard the others greet him as well. Immediately her leg resumed moving up and down on her spot.
Mierda. Shit.
A couple of minutes later the green-eyed man was walking towards her offering her a smile that she could swear was worth a million euros. She reciprocated timidly and lowered her gaze when he finally reached her side.
For his part, Charles felt that at any moment he was going to throw up butterflies. He took advantage of the fact that she diverted her gaze to the ground to observe her better, the sleeves of her race suit were tied to her waist, leaving her fireproof shirt that hugged her body to view, highlighting her figure, her dark hair was tied in a low ponytail, she was not wearing makeup, leaving seeing circles under her eyes that confirmed that what happened last night hadn’t been a dream and that it had actually happened.
“You left without saying anything” He leaned towards her and whispered so that no one else would hear him.
She felt how her cheeks began to heat up and how the feeling of guilt began to settle in her chest “I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep so I went to my room. I didn't want to wake you up” She lifted her right leg and bent it, drawing it toward her body and then placed her chin on against her knee so she could see him better. She furrowed his eyebrows “Are you angry?”.
He shook his head slightly earning a sigh of relief from her to which he laughed extending his arm to gently caress her back. It was true, he wasn't angry but he would have liked to wake up with her in his arms.
“You start in fifth position, how do you feel?”.
“I think I will get on the podium”.
“Oh, yeah?” He smiled, raising both eyebrows in a mocking tone to which she smiled amused “Do you think you'll beat me? I have the pole”.
She liked talking to Charles, he made her feel calm and helped her escape from her tedious reality. The monegasque, apart from being handsome and a good driver, was also a good person. He was the type of person who looked for a way to make you feel good and comfortable, that he adapted to the person with whom he had a conversation, taking into account what to talk about and what not to talk about. That was one of the things she liked about him.
“Mmmh, you'll see, Leclerc” She wrapped her fingers in the laces of her shoe and nodded, smiling at him mockingly, playing along.
The boy stared at her for a few seconds without saying anything, his gaze traveled quickly from her eyes to her lips and back again before leaning towards her again to speak in a low voice “You don't know how much I want to kiss you right now”.
"Charles!" She reprimanded him in a whisper, placing her hand on the boy's face and pushing his head back. She laughed because she thought it was funny but she tried to hide it "We shouldn't talk about that in public."
He rolled his eyes regretfully “Right.”
An applause was heard, drawing the attention of both, Arabella hurriedly released the monegasque's head when she saw Mattia Binotto approaching them at a quick pace.
“Good morning, guys!” A big smile covered the lips of the man with glasses “I hope you slept well because today we need you to have energy”.
They both shared a look and smiled slightly.
Wow, so sneaky.
“Charles, you are in pole position which is fantastic. I'm proud” He praised the boy who smiled and responded with a thank you. His gaze shifted to the girl, who shrank in her place somewhat nervously "And you, Arabella, are doing so well Fifth position in your second race! Great, simply great”.
“Thank you very much, sir,” She smiled politely. She felt the tension expelling from her body little by little.
He pushed up his left sleeve revealing a watch that looked like it was worth quite a bit of money and looked at it before covering it again "Well, I'm pretty busy today and since I won't be able to talk to you the rest of the day I wanted to wish you both luck” They both let out a thank you again, this time in unison making him laugh “By the way, I know you both want to win but whatever happens we will be happy and proud. See you guys”.
And without further ado he left, leaving them alone again.
“He was acting a little strange, don't you think?” With a frown and looking in the direction where the team principal had disappeared.
“A little, yes” He played it off, taking his phone out of his pocket to look at the time.
It was already eleven thirty in the morning.
“What are you going to do until lunch?” He locked the phone and returned it to his pocket while he mentally reviewed his agenda.
“I have a couple of interviews for a DAZN Spain. What about you?”.
"I don't know yet, I'll look for Emma and ask her" He shrugged and looked around the workshop in case he saw the publicist near her. When he confirmed that the woman wasn’t there, he turned to his team mate “Do you want to eat together?".
"Sure" She agreed before her own publicist approached her. She nodded when she told her that it was time for the interviews and she got up from the red metal bench, looked at the boy and raised her head in dismissal "I'll send you a text when I'm done."
He gave her a thumbs up, smiling at her, and stood up too, ready to go to his part of the garage and find his publicist.
Arabella looked at Elvira, her publicist, trying to look for any sign that she suspected something about the two drivers but the black-haired woman was too absorbed in her phone. She wrinkled her nose looking away from her trying not to be caught staring.
“Well, Albert Fabrega will interview you. It won't be anything out of the ordinary: he'll ask you how the car feels, if you think you'll win, he'll talk about your position in the standings and little else” She finally took her gaze off the phone, taking her index finger to her black-rimmed glasses, pushing them towards her face.
“Okay, and then?” She accepted the bottle of water that a Ferrari assistant offered her, thanked him with a smile when he walked next to her with an umbrella in his hand ready to cover her from the scorching sun.
“You'll talk to the DAZN Spain team for a while and ehm….” She looked again at the electronic device in her hands “There are some rich fans who have access to the paddock, you will take a couple of photos with them and you will sign whatever they want you to sign, then you can go to eat. You will met Charles for lunch, right?”.
“Yes” She began to unscrew the cap of the bottle and then take a good sip. She laughed "Do you know that the other day a girl asked me to sign her boobs?".
"Ew" Elvira made a disgusted face before waving her right hand "I'm so glad I'm not famous sometimes, anyway I think it's good that you go to lunch with Charles, so we can know where you are. I'll make sure Lando stays away from you, I don't want you two to start playing again” She looked at her accusingly over her glasses and she laughed guiltily, knowing she was referring to when she and the McLaren driver got together on Friday, playing tag and by accident they broke a sign.
They spent half an hour apologizing to Red Bull for tearing in half a poster with Pierre's face, who didn’t hesitate to make a dramatic scene about the situation.
But what could they do, after all they were just children.
“I THINK I have a good chance of getting on the podium today, I'm starting fifth so...” She shrugged, giving the camera a toothless smile. Her right hand held the microphone they had given her while her left held her body against the railing that separated the drivers from the press.
The journalist nodded “And what about your rivalry with Hamilton? As you said in Drive to Survive, you will do everything possible to beat him”.
That wasn't in the plan. She bit the inside of her cheek and swayed slightly wrapping her right foot around her left leg. “Yes, I said that but I don't have any rivalry with Hamilton other than, well, the typical one on the track that I have with all the drivers”.
“Don't you know what Hamilton has said about you?” The question left her frozen and for a moment she was worried but quickly composed herself and denied, looking out of the corner of her eye at her publicist and manager, who looked at her just as confused as she was before taking out their phones. The interviewer approached her, handing her his phone; it showed an article from the spanish newspaper Marca which about her and the champion.
She read the headline "Hamilton makes it clear that he is not worried about Torres" and she frowned as she watched the Mercedes driver's words being recited more quietly.
"I don't think she's a rival for me."
“Do you have anything to say about that?” Because she had tucked the microphone under her arm so she could grab the phone, the journalist brought his own microphone closer to her face. She opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. "In the Melbourne GP you didn't get close to him, finishing in eighth place when he was second. Do you think you'll beat him today?".
She glanced at Elvira and Nicholas again, who shook their heads but she ignored them. “He can say whatever he wants. I'm not going to say that I'm going to beat him today because no one, much less me, knows what's going to happen today, but if I don't beat him today I know that one day I will. Maybe not today or tomorrow but one day I will and rest assured I will take the title from him.”
A smile was planted on the man's lips when he heard her. “Thank you, Arabella. That's all”.
“Thanks to you” She gave him a small smile that didn’t hide her annoyance and, after extending the microphone to the sound people, she turned around and walked away from there. In a second her publicist, her manager, the assistant with the umbrella and the Netflix team were at her side struggling to keep up with her.
Both adults looked at each other while the poor assistant was sweating profusely trying to hide it from the sun.
“Arabella...” She raised a hand stopping the woman, who with her mouth open looked at the girl's manager.
"I don't want to talk now, Elvira” She growled, heading to her room, ignoring everyone she found in her way. When she got to her room she locked herself in, putting the latch on, slamming the door in the faces of both adults.
The blonde knocked on the door. "Bells, don't lock yourself in. Talk to me”.
She was pissed off, very pissed off. One of her idols had underestimated her in public and she didn't understand why. Lewis seemed to be kind and good, she hadn't had the luck –or, now, misfortune– to talk to him yet but still the champion never failed to give her a smile when their eyes met. Was it all for appearances?.
She clenched her jaw, feeling how the tears of rage and frustration began to accumulate in her eyes, pushing against each other eagerly to slide down her cheeks. She swallowed and let her knees give way, causing her back to slide against the door until she was sitting on the floor.
It wasn't the first time they talked bad about her, it wasn't the first time someone was condescending towards her but damn, when he was one of the people you admire most in the world, it definitely hurt more than anything.
The sound of a notification rang from her pocket, she wanted to ignore it but she knew that it was most likely Charles looking for her to eat. Swallowing her tears, she took the phone out of her pocket and looked at the time, there were less than two hours left until the race, she had to go eat.
A single notification occupied the screen confirming her suspicions upon seeing the Monegasque's name.
She smiled though her smile warped into a pout as she felt a sob run down her throat. She suddenly felt worthless and that she didn't deserve anything that was happening to her. She closed her eyes tightly, smashing the palm of her hand against her mouth, trying to silence the sob. She wasn't going to cry, she didn't want to cry, she couldn't cry. She had to be strong.
“Ma belle?” She heard a knock on the door and then she could hear the boy's shy voice. She shook her head, she didn't want to be seen like that, much less for Charles to see her like that. My beautiful.
She stood up, leaving the phone on the floor and hurried to grab the box of clinex that she had in the television cabinet. She blew her nose and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt before walking to the door and bent down to pick up the phone, opening the camera app and looking at herself on the screen. She was more or less presentable.
"Bella, please," she heard him speak again, this time with a pleading tone “Can I come in?".
She took a breath in and out before faking a smile and opening the door, finding Nick, Elvira, and Charles behind it. The three of them were looking at her with concern.
“Well, are we going to eat or what?” She smiled wider before leaving the room and passing between them ready to head to Ferrari's cafeteria.
The three looked at each other and Nicholas let out a sigh, running a hand over his face before looking at the boy dressed in red. "Go to her, she won't want to talk to us."
The driver nodded before starting to run in the direction of the girl. When he was close to her he wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her up, making her stop. "Hey, what just happened there?".
"Nothing, I got angry, I calmed down and that's it" Charles frowned in denial when he saw her smile that could be seen for miles that was false, he was beginning to get annoyed with her "everything is fine" attitude.
“I was in my room when you arrived, you were going like the devil was chasing you. I also heard the door slam. Don't lie to me, Arabella” The false smile that was on her lips fell to the ground as soon as she heard him, she looked around them. Some of the staff watched them talk.
She gently released herself from his grasp. “It's not a good idea to talk here, Charles.”
"I don't give a shit," It surprised her because, to be honest, since she knew him she hadn’t seen him like this, much less heard him curse. He continued, "You can't throw a fit, worry everyone, worry me, and then act like nothing happened. That's not how things work, Arabella.”
She looked at him in silence, he was right but she wasn't going to give that to him. She didn't like to talk about her feelings, much less when they were bad ones.
Charles looked at her too, waiting for her to say something, anything. He wanted her to open up to him, to trust him with her feelings like she had done last night, she wanted him to know that he was there for her.
"See you on the podium," She then told him in a serious tone, after she turned around and disappeared.
SITTING in her car she felt like a king although the looks of the mechanics around her made her feel like she was a bomb about to explode. They looked at her, talked and even were cautious around her.
Apparently the word had spread..
She glued her gaze to the halo that surrounded her, the famous phrase "I feel the need, the need for speed" was printed in white letters. She clenched her jaw when she saw the cameras pointed in her direction, she knew that tomorrow people would be talking about her face.
Her tight jaw that highlighted her features and her intense gaze fixed on her halo would be something to talk about the next day. Some would say she looked attractive, other would would criticize her.
Fuck them.
Nicholas approached her with her helmet and the balaclava in her hands. He held them out to her and she took them. She looked at her helmet and with her index finger caressed the black 9 that stood out among the red and white.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw how the six foot man squatted next to her car to get a better look at her. "Good luck, speed. We are with you.”
The smallest smile of hers was present at her nickname and she raised her gloved hand formed into a fist, soon she felt the man's fist collide with hers.
“Arabella, you're out in five!” She heard someone shout and nodded, putting on her balaclava, someone helped her put on her hans and her helmet. She closed her eyes as she quickly crossed herself.
She pursed her lips thinking about her family. It had only been twenty minutes since she had called her mother to talk to them and say her goodbyes, something she always did before a race since she had that accident. She said goodbye to them in case she didn't leave the track alive, her parents weren't happy about it but she needed it, she needed to tell them that she loved them just in case she couldn't tell them again in person.
She watched as Charles' car pulled out of his garage as the lead car passed in front of them. She felt a small sting in her chest, she pressed her lips together knowing well that it was her fault. They hadn't spoken again since their "argument", they hadn't even eaten together like they had talked about in the morning.
She felt bad for pushing him away but she couldn't help it, she was like that despite herself.
Her jaw clenched again when she saw the black and white car pass by. She was going to win or at least get on the podium so she could shut up the Brit. She was willing to make her life in that race hell. She was going to make him fight for first place.
She watched as the flag in front of her lowered and hurriedly stepped on the accelerator to leave the garage. She followed Bottas being followed by Verstappen.
She took a deep breath, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. Well, here we go.
“Arabella?” She heard Alexander's voice on the radio “Can you hear me?”.
"I hear you," she replied without taking her eyes off the end of Valtteri's car.
She swallowed and lowered the visor of her helmet. The silence embraced her completely, the only thing she could hear was her own breathing. And then every red light turned green in a blink.
Lights out and away we go!
She tried to overtake Bottas but the Red Bull driver tried the same with her. She clicked her tongue when she felt the Dutchman's car pull up to hers.
"Get him off or you'll crash." She heard the man in her ears and she opened her eyes obviously, she wanted to respond with a sarcastic comment but knowing that the communication was being recorded she decided to remain silent.
“Copy” she tried to get away from him but in less than a second Verstappen was already next to her again. She cursed under her breath.
It seems that Verstappen is not making it easy for Torres.
“Not today, Max. Not today, damn it”.
“Carlos is trying to pass, take advantage of it and pass Verstappen” she nodded to herself and prepared to accelerate, she watched as Carlos made space to the left of the Red Bull car, causing the three cars to be stuck together, covering the entire road. When on the 33rd she saw that Sainz was trying to pass, she stuck to him, leaving Arabella alone, she pressed the accelerator and drove away from them “Very good, Bella!”.
She quickly passed Bottas. Her eyes fell on the other Mercedes not far from her Ferrari. Her right corner rose and she tilted her chin down decisively.
And Arabella passes Valtteri, thus remaining in P4. Will she get through to Hamilton?
She suddenly began to lose control of her car making her panic “I'm losing control!”
She felt how the car spun around on itself “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
She turned the wheel trying to get the car back on track, praying that neither Verstappen nor Sainz would approach her and take her in front of her.
She wasn't ready to die.
She's losing control! Verstappen approaches her with Grosjean close, that could end very badly.
She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and, swerving, managed to turn around and get the vehicle back on track. She sighed, her eyes so wide it seemed like they were going to pop out of it's sockets.
"Arabella, are you okay?!" She heard several voices coming from the radio, she distinguished Alexander's and Mattias's, she also thought she heard Nick in the distance.
"I'm fine," she confirmed and the sea of red polo shirts sighed with relief in the Ferrari garage. "I'm going to overtake Magnussen."
"Copy"
While she was losing control of the car, Hamilton had managed to pass the Haas driver and was now trying to pass the other Ferrari in the lead.
She approached the black and gold car applying a tactic similar to the one the Dutchman had applied with her, approaching from his left on the curve trying to intimidate him.
"Press as much as you can" she heard commotion from Alexander's side and frowned.
"What's happening?."
"It's Charles." Her heart skipped a beat and she immediately thought the worst. Worry filled her body.
"What happened to him? Is he okay?"
"He had a problem and he had to box, he will be out in a second. It's okay, don't worry, you keep going like this and we'll see if we can get you up to p2" he tried to distract her from the topic of her teammate.
"He doesn't get tired," she warned and the man nodded, watching her car from her screen.
"Keep pushing, you're going to pass through the pit exit in no time. Take advantage of the fact that Charles is going out and pass him."
"Okay"
She followed the instructions given to her and continued alongside the Haas car until they passed the pit exit. She calmed down when she saw the other Ferrari approaching to enter the track again.
Between the two red cars they caged the danish and Arabella took the opportunity to overtake. With her right hand she greeted her teammate, earning a return greeting before losing sight of him.
They quickly left the black car behind and were left alone, looking for Lewis.
And the two Ferraris are going wheel to wheel after Leclerc's problem! They are fighting for p2, what a show Ferrari is giving us today! .
She smiled competitively and accelerated trying to overtake her teammate but he also overtook although he couldn't overtake too much because apparently the problem he had had before had taken its toll on the car and it was difficult for him to do the overtake.
"P2 Arabella, you're up on the podium!" She heard the British man's shout and laughed in disbelief. Had the race already finished?.
"Good job, guys," she congratulated those who were listening to her from the garage with a smile on her face. She parked the car in the second space and took a deep breath before getting out.
She heard the screams of the fans in the stands and soon saw a sea of red polo shirts approaching her with screams. She was turned around and she was enveloped in a hug, she immediately knew it was Charles as she felt another hoof rest against hers.
"You've done it!" She heard him say, "I'm very proud of you, ma belle."
She smiled under the helmet before feeling multiple hands touch her back, arms, and helmet.
She raised her visor and saw her staff. Someone helped her take off her hans and she quickly took off her helmet and balaclava. Her hair flew loose, freeing herself from the hair band that fell to the floor when she tore off her balaclava.
The shouts of the tifosi among the stands increased when she saw her face revealed and she once again felt like a king on top of the world.
Her ear-to-ear smile shivered as she watched the winner approach her. She looked at him suspiciously as she raised her hand in front of her body. Lewis gave him a small smile. “Congratulations, you did good.”
She raised an eyebrow, looking down at her hand and accepting it in hers.
#carlos sainz x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lando norris x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#max verstappen x reader#alex albon x reader#checo perez#daniel ricciardo x reader#driver!reader#f1 fanfic#lewis hamilton#ferrari#mercedes#f1 x reader#mercedes amg f1#f1#f1 fic#female original character#female driver#fernando alonso#george russell#lance stroll#sebastian vettel x reader#mick schumacher x reader#wattpad#pierre gasly#aston martin#red bull f1
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“Can you scent me so the others think I’m taken?” with max & oscar pretty please?
EBYYYYYYYYYYYY i love you <3
taken from this list (feel free to send me one!)
“Can you scent me so the others think I’m taken?”
Like all things in Oscar’s life recently, it’s mostly Lando’s fault. After all, he is the one that drags Oscar to the club with him, yelling something about ‘celebrating the first half of the season’ and then promptly disappears into the crowd when they get there. It leaves Oscar standing near the bar with a drink in his hand, a little lost, bobbing along to the music a little awkwardly as he desperately tries to find a familiar face in the crowd.
It doesn’t help that he’s an Omega, standing alone, which means every so often an Alpha slides up to him, trying to shoot their shot. Oscar’s interested in none of it, politely tells them to fuck off, and they listen, mostly, but it’s still. In a situation where he already feels a little off kilter it’s doing nothing to make him feel less off kilter.
After the fifth Alpha he turns down gets a little aggressive about it, Oscar is about ready to leave. Which is, of course, when he runs into Max Verstappen.
“Hey,” Max says, doing a double take when he spots Oscar. “Didn’t know you were here, too. How are you?”
“Yeah,” Oscar says, nodding his head a little too enthusiastically, realizes this, and quickly stops, making a little hand motion towards the crowd of people. “Lando, uh. Brought me here. And then disappeared.” He tries to sound cool about it, like it’s no big deal that he’s now here alone, like he’s totally cool with that. Because this is Max, and he wants Max to, well. Not think he’s a loser, at least.
Max laughs. “Yeah, he does that. So, you’re having fun?”
No. Oscar thinks. “Yes! Yeah. I mean, I had some annoying Alpha’s trying to flirt with me, but other than that. Yeah, it’s cool.” Max is wearing a pretty tight shirt, tight enough that Oscar can see the outline of his pecks through the fabric. He tries not to stare too hard. “I mean. The last one got pretty aggressive about it, so that kind of sucked,” he continues, because maybe if he keeps talking Max will stop looking so goddamn hot and he can be normal about things again.
“Maybe I should ask Lando to scent me, later. So they think I’m taken,” he continuous, mostly thinking out loud, distracted by the way Max’s biceps bulge under the fabric of his t-shirt when he shifts his drink from one hand to the other. They do that sometimes, him and Lando. Make people think they are together so they’re left alone. It’s a pretty solid deal, if a bit unconventional.
“I can do that,” Max says, and Oscar blinks, dragging his eyes up to Max’s face.
“What?” He asks, because. What.
“Scent you. So people think you are taken,” he shrugs, like this is no big deal somehow. Like Oscar’s insides don’t feel like they’re on fire all of a sudden.
“Oh, uh,” he says, because what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. “Yeah, no. That would be great, if you wouldn’t mind.” If you wouldn’t mind. Christ.
Max steps forward then, into Oscar’s space, reaching up to wrap his hand around the side of Oscar’s neck, and Oscar’s brain momentarily short circuits. This much up close Oscar can smell his scent, a mix of rain and gasoline and forests that makes Oscar want to tip forward and bury his nose in Max’s t-shirt until he’s drowning in it.
He barely has time to process anything because suddenly Max’s other hand is on his waist, and he leans forward, burying his face in the crook of Oscar’s neck, and Oscar gasps. Max’s nose moves over his scent gland, and even though Oscar knows it’s the fastest way to scent someone it still surprises him when Max’s nose is quickly replaced by his mouth.
Max’s tongue darts out, licking at the sensitive skin of Oscar’s scent gland and Oscar is forever grateful Max is holding him so tightly, because he can feel his knees buckle and he’s pretty sure he would’ve fallen over otherwise.
It’s never felt this intimate, with Lando. Never this intense.
As fast as it’s started it’s already over again, Max pulling away after pressing a small little kiss to Oscar’s neck, stepping away. There’s a dark look in his eyes, though Oscar is pretty sure it might be the lighting in the club.
“Thanks,” He manages to breathe out, voice rough and a little shaky. The places Max has touched feel like they’re on fire, and Oscar can smell nothing but raingasolineforest, and he feels like the world his spinning out of control.
“No problem, mate. See you around,” Max says, and with one last pat on Oscar’s shoulder, he disappears back into the crowd.
Oscar stands there, frozen in place, staring after him, probably for way too long. At least no other Alpha approaches him. They would be mad to, when he so deeply smells like he belongs to Max.
And god, isn’t that a wonderful thought?
Lando finds him again, eventually. Tells him he stinks with a wrinkled nose, and calls them a cab. When they’re in the backseat, he offers to scent Oscar, get that ‘disgustingly cloying Alpha scent off him’.
Oscar declines with a vague excuse that it’s not that bad, and turns to stare out the window. It’ll fade, eventually, Max’s scent on his skin. Whether Lando scents him or not, it will eventually disappear.
But for now, for this tiny moment in time, Oscar can pretend he’s Max’s. And he’s not yet ready to let that go.
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@spicycinnabun and I expanded the friends prompt. Hope you enjoy the angsty fluff from us ❤️️
My Buddy, My Bro, My Pal
The party had been going on for about an hour or so. Steve was hosting. He didn’t know when Eddie had arrived but could hear his voice, and then he saw him chatting with Jonathan and Nancy. Steve shot him a smile from across the room. He was so happy Eddie was there.
It’d been a long work week, and they hadn’t seen each other since last weekend. He couldn’t wait until they got a moment to greet each other. Chrissy and Robin were there, too, so Eddie had plenty of people to talk to while Steve was making the rounds.
Steve was just catching up with some of his friends who had gone off to college. Everyone was back home visiting their own families during the school break. It’d been a perfect time for a party with his parents out of town.
When Steve finally broke away from the conversation, it was to refill some of the snacks and drinks. He ran into Eddie in the kitchen. “Hey, man. Happy you made it.” Steve went in for a half hug and gave Eddie’s back a few hard pats as he pulled back and smiled at him. “How’s my good buddy doing? Did you get a drink?”
There it was again. The word Eddie so loathed. Buddy.
Eddie thought that shit was going to stop once they’d started fooling around together, but if anything, it had only increased. Buddy this, bro that. Once, Steve had even called him pal.
Eddie should have grinned. He should have played along like he usually did. But he was four vodka Cokes in, and his feelings were more feelingy, weeks of pent-up frustration hitting its peak.
So, he did something monumentally bold and got into Steve’s space, putting his (fifth) drink down and backing him up against one of the counters. “You know what? Buddies don’t kiss each other,” Eddie said, breathing the word harshly between them. His fists clenched at his sides.
“Yeah, you… You’ve definitely had a few.” Steve could smell the alcohol on his breath. He was worried they were standing too close to the gas stove.
Eddie saw Steve’s eyes widen, his head twitching like he was just barely concealing the urge to look around and make sure nobody had heard that. Eddie barrelled on. It was a courtesy that he was even lowering his voice. He didn’t have to. “If you want to keep on pretending that’s all we are, you go right ahead, Steve. But I won’t be.”
Steve’s heart sped up like it normally did when Eddie got close to him. His eyebrows rose as the counter dug into his ass. This would’ve been really fucking hot if Eddie wasn’t so angry at him. He was surprised that Eddie had that reaction to his comment. He thought it was an innocent enough statement, but clearly, he had struck the wrong chord.
Steve’s eyes were doing all the reacting, looking at Eddie but dying to see if anyone had overheard. If they had, it probably wouldn’t have made sense to them anyway. No one knew he’d seduced Eddie into more than just kissing him. Friends didn’t kiss or fuck each other like wild rabbits, either.
Steve shook his head. “I’m not pretending. I didn’t know that you wanted this to be an official thing. I thought you wanted to keep things casual,” he said coolly, even though his heart was beating out of his chest. “I’m open to something more exclusive if that’s what you want.”
They hadn’t talked about what they were, but if Eddie was gonna call him out so aggressively and publicly at his own damn party, he was going to get Eddie to admit that he wanted to be his boyfriend. What he had been doing was bullying him about being friendly and excited to see him.
Wasn’t this a mutual decision they needed to come to before feelings got involved? It was too damn late for that, apparently, with Eddie’s alcohol-induced liberty.
Eddie was short-circuiting. Thrown completely off. “Excuse me, what?”
Heat rose to Eddie’s face with the speed of a Nascar driver, leaving a burning trail up his cheeks. He had been… like, one hundred percent sure Steve was deeply in the closet, and that was why he kept insisting they were friends and not, you know, fuck buddies. More than dudes who spent time together. Steve didn’t call any of the chicks he slept with what he called Eddie, right?
“I—I never said we have to be official,” Eddie finally said. His face was blisteringly hot at this point. Had Steve actually said he was open to it? To him? To dating Eddie? Fuck. “I just thought…” Eddie swallowed (fuuuuuck), “…you wanted to hide me under the rug like some bro. So I was pissed about that.”
Did Eddie want to go steady with Steve?
Hell yes!
He had been infatuated with the hairy bastard long before they’d started sleeping together.
“I would be amenable to. Um. To being exclusive. With you. Yes.” God, he was usually way smoother than this. His fists finally uncurled. He looked at Steve uncertainly. “Do… you want to?”
Steve had said he was open, but what did that mean? Open wasn't really yes.
“I invited you here.” Steve wanted to end the night alone with Eddie.
They’d spent the last few weekends in his bedroom, exploring every inch of each other’s bodies. (Steve didn’t even know he had that many moles and that there really was one there. He’d laughed like a hooligan, and it felt like he was gonna break his neck trying to find it in the mirror. Eddie had helped him find it eventually.)
Steve hadn’t been exclusive with anyone since he’d gotten with Nancy, but the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie made his stomach hurt.
“And we hadn’t talked about it yet,” Steve pointed out. He wasn’t lying. He was open to it because he’d been thinking about it. He saw the way Eddie’s demeanor changed from hurt to hopeful. “I brought it up, didn’t I? Yes, Eddie, that’s what I want. I promise not to refer to you as my friend, without boy in front of friend ever again.”
Steve wanted to prove it. It was his party, and he could kiss who he wanted to. While Eddie had been so concerned about being a secret hookup, Steve was only concerned about what would make them both happy. He knew kissing each other did, so to hell with what everyone at the party thought about Steve “The Hair” Harrington kissing Eddie “The Freak” Munson. They could get the fuck out and leave them the hell alone if they didn’t like it.
Steve smiled and kissed his boyfriend for the first time. Eddie, still stunned but quickly getting with the program, clutched Steve’s hips and kissed him back.
In the background, they heard Robin and Chrissy cheering. “Nancy, you owe us twenty bucks!” Robin yelled.
#steddie#steve x eddie#steddie ficlet#ficlet#friends to lovers#steve harrington#eddie muson#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#robin buckley#chrissy cunningham#stranger things#light angst#fluff
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Originalism is such a stupid, archaic idea.
Asinine that there’s a group of people that can force the government to act as though nothing has changed in 250 years. It isn’t a free or equitable society any more if we are governed by laws that only give rich white people freedom or power.
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the nickname
[789 words]
Kirishima didn’t mean to let the nickname slip. He really didn’t.
It was a slip of the tongue. Yes, he often referred to his best bro in his own mind as such, but he didn’t mean to say it out loud.
Kirishima had barged into Bakugo’s room earlier that evening for their weekly hangout. Since first year, the two boys had slowly become attached at the hip, and now in their third year they had developed an unspoken rule that Sunday nights were Bakubro and Kiri hangout nights (or, at least that's how Kirishima referred to them). They settled on playing a mean game of Mario Kart tonight, both boys' competitive sides on full display. Normally, Bakugo was the one bringing home the first place title. Kirishima, of course always trying to win, didn’t mind when Bakugo won–he was just so cute with an arrogant fire in his eyes and that feral smirk on his lips.
Kirishima had been sitting on the floor with his long legs outstretched towards the TV (he had grown to be significantly taller than his best friend, much to Bakugo’s dismay) leaning against the bed. Bakugo himself was on the bed above Kirishima, slowly inching towards the edge of the bed in his cross-legged position as he got more and more invested in the game.
It was the fourth and final track of the circuit and Bakugo was up two wins to Kirishima’s one, looking like Bakugo was going to secure his reign for a fifth week in a row. Except… Bakugo was having a lot of issues with the CPUs this round. It was honestly really funny to watch him rage at the game, and Bakugo was doing well enough that Kirishima was still expecting him to win.
“There is no fucking way, I was just hit with a green shell! There is no way that was the full cool down time! Stop laughing, shitty hair, you know that was absolute bull!”
Kirishima could not stop laughing at his best friend’s reaction to his perceived injustice. They were both nearing the end, with them and all of the CPUs neck and neck. Somehow, Kirishima was able to pull ahead into first place, and right before Bakugo was about to cross the finish line for second place he was hit with another red shell.
“Are you fucking serious?! There is no way, I was totally about to cross the finish line! Fourth?? I got fourth place?!? You did not deserve this win, idiot.”
Kirishima threw his head back in his laughter, eyes watering and abs hurting. He heard Bakugo growl above him and felt him shift–wait, since when were they close enough…?
Opening his eyes, Kirishima realized he’d essentially thrown his head back straight into Bakugo’s lap. Fire red eyes met the darker burgundy of the ones above him. There were traces of a scowl on his face, no doubt from the loss, but Kirishima was met with mostly surprise from his best friend above him.
The blinds were open, letting the golden rays of sunset stream through the window. Kirishima had never thought much about the positioning of the dorms, but in that moment he was thanking every deity he could list that they were facing west. The light reflected beautifully off the blonde locks hanging over Bakugo’s face as it tilted towards him. The rays filtering through his luminated hair refracted through the reds of his eyes. Bakugo naturally ran warm, a side effect of his quirk which could be felt by the boy in his lap. His strong calf and quad muscles had tensed when a head first landed in his lap, but, and to Kirishima’s surprise, they were relaxing into the comforting weight.
There was little Kirishima could do other than stare up at the beautiful sight above him.
“...’Tsuki…”
“...Huh?”
He hadn’t realized anything had come out of his mouth until the boy above him twisted his face in confusion and replied. Kirishima flushed, immediately trying to backpedal. “Oh! Sorry, sorry, I’ll…” He moved to lean his head upright and shift away, not wanting to make his best friend uncomfortable.
He couldn’t, though. Not with a hand in his hair.
Steeling himself (ready to harden himself for an explosive reaction, literally) he looked back up into the eyes of the boy he more than likely had just crossed a line with. When he met the other’s eyes, however, he was shocked to find a hint of a smile on Bakugo’s face and… was that a blush?
“The moon to your sun, huh? I–I like it.”
He felt his face split open into the widest smile Kirishima could possibly handle, reaching his hand up to join the one holding his hair gently.
“Alright then, ‘Tsuki.”
#krbk#kiribaku#love these two#kirishima eijirou#bakugou katsuki#oneshot#couldn't get this out of my head#maybe i'll continue this#we'll see#they're in love your honor#bnha
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"Ow," Kyle says, for the fifth time that night.
"You good?" Hal asks, craning his head towards the kitchen.
"It's these stupid hips." Kyle comes back with a frown and another bowl of chips, and Hal abruptly turns back and raises his fourth beer of the night to his lips, because oh right, Kyle's a girl now and he just can't deal. Batman had taken one look at Kyle and his hips and chest still stuck in his stupidly tight costume and decided he was Hal's problem. Hal had tried to argue that Kyle doesn't need anyone watching over him, he's an adult, he can take care of himself, and then he tried pawning him off to the titans when that didn't work. And then Kyle had gotten annoyed at him and Hal just. Let Kyle follow him back to his apartment so he won't have to stop himself from staring at his tits. That he has now. That he'll probably have for at least the next week, according to Zatanna.
Maybe he should've argued harder for the titans to take him in. Kyle drops down on the couch, bouncing slightly, leaning into his arm with his curves and thighs and soft breasts. Hal had given him some of Carol's old clothes, and seeing him in then had nearly made Hal combust, and then Kyle had grumbled and ripped them off, declaring them 'too tight' and changed into one of Hal's shirts instead, which made him want to combust more. There's... legs. There are legs beside him. Hal wonders if there's a non weird way to ask Kyle if he's wearing Carol's panties under the shirt, and then takes another desperate gulp of beer.
He doesn't know which one is worse. Panties, or nothing.
"My balance is off," Kyle is saying, his voice pitched higher, "my centre of gravity is lower. And boobs! They get in the way so much! I need to practice flying tomorrow, I have to shift my weight midair in a whole different way now. How long did Zatanna say this would last again?"
"A week," Hal parrots dutifully. "Or two, if we're unlucky."
"'We'?" Kyle swats his arm. "You're not the one who got turned into a girl here." And then Kyle swings his legs over his lap and Hal's brain short circuits.
"Um?"
"You shouldn't drink so much." Kyle takes the beer can out of his hand and puts it on the coffee table. "You're a superhero. Technically you're always on call."
"You." Hal fumbles for words. "You're on my lap?"
Kyle looks at him. His eyes are the same shape, his lips in the same full pout. The lines on his face look softer, but Hal doesn't know enough about the body to see if the bones shifted or if its just a different distribution of fat. "Hey, Hal," Kyle says, "let's do it."
"?!" Says Hal, choking on his tongue.
"Look, if I'll be staying with you for two weeks-"
"-one week-"
"We can't have you be like this the whole time because you're trying to pretend you don't want to fuck me."
"Hrgk."
"Besides, aren't you curious?" Kyle raises an eyebrow, his lips pulling into a familiar mischievous smirk.
Hesitantly, Hal puts his hand on his hip. "Are you sure?" He asks, even as he's sliding his hand up his (Hal's) shirt, up his thigh, finding no fabric at his hip. Dear god.
"If you won't fuck me," Kyle says imperiously, "I'll go ask Guy."
"Absolutely not." Hal stands from the couch, picking Kyle up like he's a bag of feathers.
Kyle freezes in shock, and then wriggles in his arms until he's settled in place, looping his thighs over his hips. "And then, when I'm back to normal, we can do it again, just to compare," he says, innocently, as Hal carries him to the bedroom.
#halkyle#hal jordan#Kyle Rayner#genderbend#female Kyle Rayner#writes#sometimes i miss old school problematic gender bending tropes
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Macau GP 70th Anniversary
YOU. YEAH YOU READING THIS. This is me trying to pursued you to go watch the Macau GP this weekend. This track is historic and legendary. And one of the most fun and dangerous street circuits (imo) with tight corners and varying elevations. It is still the oldest (active) street circuit that still holds F3 (+other races) and isn't part of the F1 World Championship (the other being New Zealand🤝)
Since it’s the 70th anniversary and they are holding two wholeass race weekends with a BANGER entry list this year (full list at the end of the post), so why not take a trip down memory lane and talk about some iconic races and drivers throughout the years. [LONG POST, just saying][Also, surprises underneath]
Macau Grand Prix, Guia Circuit (or Circuito da Guia)—a circuit that spans 6.120km, with different elevations over 30 meters top to bottom (in non-metric terms: 2 small pine trees, or 2 volleyball courts for all non-metric people out there👍). Top speed: 260km/h for an F3 car, which is already a handful. This circuit has had little to no changes since the beginning of its grand opening. While this track serves as a stepping stone for drivers, it remains an independent circuit and race of its own. Though still having an affiliate with the FIA.
Although the first race event began in 1954, they didn’t introduce F3 until 1983. Which they had a strong start for F3 with the likes of Ayrton Senna and Gerhard Berger, respectively taking first and third place.
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A few years later; Eddie Irvine, Damon Hill, Jean Alesi also left their marks on this race track.
But the most iconic moment came in 1990. The battle of Schumacher vs Hakkinen. The beginning of their motor rivalry.
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Schumi took first place while Mika unfortunately crashed out at the back of Schumi’s car.
Jenson Button (a literal child) in 1999, second place. God works hard but those mechanics work even harder
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In 2003-2004, both Lewis and Nico took part, whilst Lewis took pole and they both showed great results in qualifying. Neither of them went on to podium in both years.
2005: baby Seb starting to shine through and took third at the main race, just behind Kubica
youtube
They put a baby in a fast car
2009: Daniel, Valtteri, and Jules took the challenge. Jules started near the back end of the grid but was steady racing and finished 10th. Valtteri started 4th, had the opportunity to be on podium until he got a puncture on the last lap that saw him finish fifth. Daniel-not the best start- clipped the wall and punctured his left rear, carried on a little bit more until he crashed out of the race :( can’t find any video cuz apparently no one cared enough about 2009
2011: Valtteri’s third year in a row; the previous got him third place but this one he retired the car on lap 4 due to an accident. Kmag, da Costa, Carlos participated but all in all, half the grid retired in the end.
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Pre-mustache Bottas and baby redbull Carlos
Bloop! 2014: a wild baby Max appears! Boy had good results in qualifying, placing him third, but in the quali race he lost control and crashed. Main race-7th. Nick Cassidy, Nicki Latifi, Antonio Giovinazzi, Alex Palou finished 3rd, 5th, 12th and 16th. Unfortunately, Antonio Fuoco and Estie Bestie retired :(
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Yes, Max did get the fastest lap
2015: Everybody’s favourite! Charles Leclerc has entered the ring. Charlie’s aggressive attack led him to second place and on that podium. Giovinazzi-4th, Lance Stroll-8th, Nick Cassidy-12th and following close behind, my boy, Alexander Albon-13th
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The race was that good even FIA had to post it on their channel lol
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The infamous onboard camera
2016: we see the introduction of George Russell, Landon Norris, Callum Ilott, Guanyu Zhou and Ticktum (But we’re not gonna talk about him🤭). It was an okay race, António Félix da Costa took first (came 9th in the recent WEC👏) and Nikita crashed.
That year gave us baby Lando and baby George who took his first pole *surprise🎉*
2017: A fucking great racing year, Lando came second due to Habsburg and Sette Câmara crashing out in the final corner. It’s Mick’s first year, though not the best result but did manage to snatch the fastest lap 💨
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2018: it was a scary ass race and I remember standing in front of the TV just watching this. Lisboa corner is famously know for a lot of accidents, Sophia Flörsch made contact with another that send her airborne and crashed into the barriers and fractured her vertebrae. Final standing: Mick-5th, Ilott-7th, Schwartzman-9th, Zhou-11th, Vesti-15th
I’m not gonna post the video, you can go look it up if you’re interested
2019: a lot more familiar faces: Richard Verschoor, Jüri Vips (yeah that one), Logan Sargeant, Callum Ilott came back for another year, Liam Lawson with his bestie Yuki Tsunoda, Enzo Fittipaldi, Max Fewtrell🫡, David Schumacher, Felipe Drugovich, Schwartzman’s second attempt and Sophia Flörsch
youtube
3 years of absence and we are back! 2023!
This year there’s two whole weekends, from 11-12th November and 16-19th November. And they’ve a banger list of drivers like Bianca Bustamante for F4 and Richard Verschoor taking another stab at it.
Macau F4 race is happening on the 11-12th:
F4 is happening the week after on 16-19th
The FIA is streaming F3 on the YouTube channel (streaming f3 not f4🥲…go watch motor gp too it’s on the same day) but you could probably watch it on other streaming platforms too (you know the ones👀👀)
If you haven’t seen the Macau GP before…give it a go! It’s brilliant!
*side note: if Fernando or Lewis ever retires from f1 and have nothing else to do…I’d like to see them tackle this track (again for Lewis) maybe not f3, maybe something like GT cup or something. It would be verrrry interesting👀
#ok I wrote this on and off and in between my essays so I do apologize if words don’t make sense cuz I’m running on redbull and no sleep#and I technically theoretically wrote this selfishly cuz it’s my home turf and I wanna show some love#charles leclerc#sebastian vettel#max verstappen#lando norris#carlos sainz jr#alex albon#daniel ricciardo#lewis hamilton#george russell#ayrton senna#michael schumacher#mika häkkinen#bianca bustamante#f1#formula 1#f2#f3#f1 academy#macau grand prix#macau gp
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Kinktober Day 3: Spanking || Rhett Abbott/F!Reader.
Day 3: Spanking
Summary: Rhett lets you know how he deals with brats.
One shot 646 words. Female/AFAB reader.
Warnings: spanking, implied consent
Notes: For #kinktober2022. Reminder that these will not have part twos, or continuations. Please follow @wbslibrary since tag lists are gone. (I appreciate ya’ll so much but it was stressing me out, and I was worried I’d miss someone). Comments and sharing let me know you love me, likes are appreciated. Thank you so very much for reading. It’s so appreciated and means the most.
“What were you thinking?” His eyes land on yours, glinting in the low light. “You takin a shot with that asshole.” Rhett’s voice is low, dangerous, and it sends shivers down your spine. “Anyone else in the bar, I don’t care. You can dance, drink with anyone but that dick.” The truck moves slightly when he slams his hand against it.
The sounds of the bar faded as you walked across the parking lot. Rhett had a tight grip on your upper arm, his jaw set in a harsh line. He pins you against the door of the truck, caging you in with his arms.
You tip your chin up, arms crossing over your chest. “It was just a shot Rhett.”
“With the one fucking person I cannot stand on this circuit. You know what he does to pretty things like you?” Fingertips grip your chin, forcing you to look at him. “He’d use you up and throw you away without a second glance. And you are worth so much more than that darlin’.”
“What does it matter to you?”
“It matters.” He growls. “It matters a whole fucking lot.”
Rhett is so close; you can feel the heat radiating off him. He smells like cheap whiskey and even cheaper beer, his collar mussed, a bruise starting to bloom on his collar bone. His lip is split, grip on your chin tight, but his thumb smooths over your jaw. If you exhale too hard your chest would brush against his.
“Maybe you should let me know what’s what before you have a temper tantrum about one fucking shot, Rhett.”
His lip curls, jerking you flush against him. Rhett is all hard angles, nearly vibrating with energy and barely restrained anger. “A temper tantrum?” The truck door is yanked open, and he’s manhandling you, the leather of the bench seat of his truck soft under your cheek. “I’m not the one acting like a petulant brat.” His hand is firm between your shoulder blades, holding you in place. “S’good thing I know how to handle brats.”
Cool night air hits the back of your thighs, his free hand tugging your dress up over your hips. One knee works between your legs, splitting them, allowing you a bit more balance. Despite the firm press on your back and the way he’s yanking the cloth from your body you know you can end it with one word. The hammering of your heart in your chest confirms that you’re not going to, a perverse curiosity taking over.
The first swat to your ass makes you jump, squealing as you squirm under him. His grip tightens, and a second swat follows fast and harder on the heels of the first. A third, a fourth, fifth. With the sixth a low groan comes from you, pressing your face against the supple leather.
Rhett chuckles softly, the sound and the ache from his spanking makes you clench around nothing. “Oh darlin’.” His hand rubs at your ass, soothing over the lace of your panties. “You’re starting to get it aren’t you?” His hand slides between your thighs, fingers dragging over the damp fabric. His calloused fingers push the fabric aside, toying with the slick that drips from your pussy. “You wanna be by some cowboy’s side, then you need to stay in your place. Right next to me.” Your eyes flutter closed when he brushes against your clit.
“Thought that was pretty clear, but I’m more than happy to remind you.”
You bite your lower lip when he moves your panties back into place. Your knees are weak, hands curling against the seat, desperate for something to hold on to. Even, gentle pressure as he rubs your ass, before delivering another sharp slap.
“Take four more for me. Then hop that cherry red ass up into my truck and I’ll take you home.”
#wbskink#kinktober 2022#Rhett Abbott/Reader#shelly writes#Rhett Abbott/you#Rhett Abbott x reader#Rhett Abbott x you#female reader#outer range#smut fic
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US appeals court kills ban on plastic containers contaminated with PFAS
Republicans absolutely do not give a fuck about your health so long as it affects profitability. They don't give la shit if a company produces a product that causes health problems.
Republicans will pretend to care about mothers and fertility with their anti-abortion bullshit whilst simultaneously allowing companies to pump fertility-destroying teratogenic compounds into their products.
#environmental protection agency#epa#texas#republicans#pfas#pfas pollution#plastic#plastic products#industry#fertility#miscarriage#abortion#republican hypocrisy#united states#capitalism#corporate greed#cancer#carcinogens
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