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vivwritesfics · 25 days

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Military Flyover

The dagger squad don't want to do a military flyover of the Las Vegas grand Prix. None of them really knew much about and, those that did only really knew about Nascar.

She hated the Vegas Grand Prix as much as those doing the military flyover. But the cute WSO there to support his friends was making it bearable.

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x F1 driver!reader

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a/n: yes a military flyover doesn't make sense for vegas buuuut let a girl dream lol - i'm hoping I've managed to write this for an audience that might not really know f1 but idk how confident i am in my abilities lol

Bob couldn't quite believe what the two time Top Gun graduates were having to do. They had completed an insanely dangerous mission and returned to be permanently stationed in San Diego, except from when they were called away for deployment.

They were a part of the military, why were they doing this?

Well, at least Bob didn't have to actually fly. He was a Weapon Systems Officer, he didn't have to take part in this. But he still went, more to morally support his squad.

Nat wasn't happy about have to do a military flyover of the Las Vegas Grand Prix. She, Bradley and Jake were constantly complaining. None of them knew anything about Formula One, not enough to appreciate doing the flyover.

(May I just say, even if they did know about F1, they still wouldn't appreciate it. They'd train for years to be in the navy and now they were having to waste their time on this.)

The flyover was on the Sunday. Only Natasha, Jake and Bradley were taking part. Bob didn't have to go, didn't have to visit the track on the Friday and the Saturday with the three of them.

But Natasha had begged him. "Drive up with me," she'd said to him. "It's five hours and I could use the company."

So, Bob agreed. His dad had sometimes watched Nascar while he was growing up. He didn't know much of anything about motorsport but, if Nat wanted him there, he'd go.

The navy pilots didn't know they'd been invited to meet the drivers. Bob followed Natasha through the paddock. "Getting to meet the drivers might be the only good thing thing to come from this," Nat mumbled as she led the way.

The paddock was buzzing with life. There were cameras following people around, interviews happening as they walked through the paddock. Fans stopped men in team shirts and hats for pictures before letting them continue.

There was a familiar whistle, just loud enough for Natasha and Bob to hear over the crowd around them. They turned and saw Rooster and Hangman striding towards them.

"Where are we meant to be?" Asked Hangman as Rooster pulled off his aviators and looked around. The three of them (Natasha, Jake and Bradley) were in their overalls, looking proper in their uniform. Bob, though. He was dressed down, wearing jeans and a sweater (Vegas really wasn't that warm this time of year), his military issued glasses sitting on his nose. He looked cute, even if he didn't know it.

"Cyclone said the Ferrari garage, right?" She said as she looked between the other aviators. Bob, who had studied the itinerary, nodded his head and the four of them set off towards the red garage.

***

The Las Vegas Grand Prix was a joke. All of the drivers thought so.

The Ferrari drivers weren't happy about it (just like the rest of the grid). They had spent the season struggling behind the Red Bulls and driving on an unknown track wasn't going to help that.

She needed a lot of mental preparation for this one. Just like the other drivers, before the first practice session her only experience on the track had been through sim racing. She was nervous in a way she hadn't been before.

She donned her red fireproofs, the overalls hanging from from her hips. She pulled her cap onto her head when there was a knock on her driver room door. "Yeah?" She called and the member of Ferrari staff walked in.

"The navy pilots are on their way," she said and went to back out of the drivers room.

"What?" The Ferrari driver called suddenly, her brows furrowed. "What navy pilots?"

The member of staff gulped. "They're doing a military flyover before the Grand Prix," she said. "They're on their way here to meet you and Charles," she said.

The driver let out a huff. She grabbed her drinks bottle and marched out of her drivers room, heading to find her teammate.

Charles was doing an interview for Sky Sports when she walked through the garage. She didn't much care, though. She powered on, her hand on Charles's shoulder as she stood at his side. "Chuck," she said, looking at her teammate.

Lawrence Barretto moved his microphone back to his mouth. "Is that his official name for the Vegas Grand Prix?" He asked and moved the microphone towards her.

"Yes," she said as Charles shook his head, repeatedly saying 'no'.

She stood beside him until the interview was over, answering any question Lawrence sent her way. As soon as they were done she grabbed Charles and pulled him away, pulling him further into the Ferrari garage.

"What's up?" Charles asked. He was a brilliant teammate, one of her best friends. They'd known each other for yeas and were close enough for people to think they were together at one point. Brocedes 2.0, many commented on the pictures of the two of them posted on the Scuderia Ferrari Instagram account, as if they were a disaster waiting to happen.

"Did you know we're having to meet the navy pilots doing the military flyover?" She asked, hands on her hips.

Charles furrowed his brows. And then his face relaxed as he shook his head at her. "Start checking your emails, please," he said.

She gently pushed him as a member of the Ferrari staff, the same girl from before, approached them. "They're here," she said and left them to it.

Charles led the way back through the garage, heading to where the navy pilots were standing around his car. Three of them, the three that looked the part, chatted with Fred while one, one that was dressed down, stood to the side.

Suddenly, she pulled Charles out of sight. "What is it?" He asked quickly, concern written on his face.

She looked back around the corner at the pilots for just a second. "Holy shit, Cha, I think I'm in love," she said and Charles just laughed.

"Do you need a wingman?"

She furiously shook her head. "Don't you bloody dare."

She steadied herself and followed Charles over to the navy pilots. Fred spotted his drivers first. He gestured over to them as he back away from the pilots, letting the drivers take over.

Charles held his hand out towards them introducing himself first. She went next, giving them her name as she reached out to shake the woman's hand.

"Natasha Trace," she said with a smile as she shook her hand. "Callsign Phoenix."

She moved on to the man with the moustache. "Bradley Bradshaw, or Rooster," he said and shook her hand, his grip firm. He wore a smile, but it was respectful.

Unlike the man next to him. She could tell who he was from the moment she looked at him, wearing that flirty smile. "Jake Seresin," he said, pulling her hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it. "You can call me Hangman."

The smile dropped from her face and she pulled her hand away, clearly unimpressed. She looked past him, at the guy in the sweater and the glasses. "How about you?" She asked, completely ignoring Hangman. "Are you in the navy too?"

Bob blushed bright red as he stepped forward. "Robert Floyd," he said and shook her hand. "I'm a weapon systems officer."

"Oh," she said. Just that one word and she sounded incredibly fascinated. "Do tell me more."

She'd asked Charles not to wing man her, but he did it anyway. She might not have been aware as Charles spoke to the other navy pilots, doing the job for both of them. (Charles didn't know if Bob was the one she had fancied, but it was easy to guess. He looked like her type).

They spoke for a good twenty minutes before the drivers were told to wrap up the conversation. "You got a call sign?" She asked Bob as she crossed her arms over her chest and leant against the wall.

Jake had been wrapped up in the conversation he, Rooster and Phoenix were having with Charles until that point. Upon hearing her question, he placed his arm around the WSO's shoulders and grinned at the driver. "This is Baby On Board," he said with a grin, going to pinch Bob's cheeks.

Again, his cheeks were flaming as he stepped away from Jake. "It's Bob," he said. "Just Bob."

"Just Bob," she repeated as she smiled at him, completely ignoring everything Jake had said (something that Bob was grateful for). "It's simple, I like it."

Her engineer called for her. She turned and put her thumbs up before turning back to Bob. "Are you staying for the free practice?" She asked and Charles couldn't stop himself from answering.

"Sorry," he said to the pilots. "She doesn't read her emails."

She sent a glare in Charles's direction. The drivers said a quick goodbye to the navy pilots (although she hoped it wasn't for the last time), and got themselves ready for the first practice session in Las Vegas. They pulled up the red and white overalls and placed the balaclavas over their faces.

Bob watched as she pulled her helmet on, hiding her undeniably pretty face. He really did think she was beautiful, and she seemed interested in him, but he wasn't going to read too much into that.

He couldn't see as she gave him a smile from beneath her helmet. When she climbed into the red car with the number 53 on it, Bob knew which one he had to look out for.

The track wasn't ready, everybody knew it. But they didn't know how bad it was until they shower of sparks coming out the back of her car. "What the fuck was that?" She said to her engineer down the radio. "I just hit a fucking manhole cover."

The pilots were leaning forward as she stopped the car. The session was stopped, the other drivers coming into the pits. She jumped out of the car, waiting for it to be lifted onto the truck so that she could look at the extent of the damage beneath.

As the car was taken back to the garage and workers surrounded the manhole cover, she climbed into the medical car and was taken back to the pitlane.

Bob watched as she stormed into the garage, pulling off her helmet and balaclava. "Nine fucking minutes!" She heard her say to somebody in a Ferrari shirt. "I officially hate the Vegas Grand Prix."

She looked around the garage, eyes focusing in on the pilots. They were watching her, too, and she forced her expression to soften as she walked over. "Sorry you had to see that," she said, unzipping her race suit.

Bob shook his head. "'s no worries, ma'am," he said before he could stop himself. When his fellow aviators looked at him, his cheeks flushed red.

"We're just glad to know you're okay," Natasha said for him.

The driver smiled at them. But the interaction was short lived as she was called over to her wrecked car. (It looked fine on the top, but everybody knew the damage was beneath, invisible).

The nine minutes of practice wasn't enough to help the aviators get into F1. Rooster, Hangman and Phoenix wanted to head back to their hotels, but Bob wanted to stick around.

"My dad was into Nascar," he explained as the others left. They nodded, but they knew better. Their Baby On Board had a crush.

She hadn't expect him to stay, that much was clear. She'd seen the other aviators leave and had gotten on with what she needed to do, speaking to the mechanics about the parts they needed to replace and speaking to Fred about the potential consequences.

"Oh!" She said when she saw Bob still sitting there. "I thought you would have left."

Bob gave a polite smile and shrugged his shoulders. "I wanted to learn more."

The smile she gave him matched his own. "Well, you're not gonna learn much here," she said. "Let me get changed and we can get dinner."

Bob didn't expect dinner to be in the Ferrari hospitality suite. He'd didn't exactly think he'd be going out to dinner with her, but he didn't expect this.

She sat Bob down at a table and got a selection of food for them to share. "I can't exactly go crazy," she'd said as she sat down opposite him, placing the single plate in between them. "I still have a car to drive later."

Bob grabbed something from the plate. "Why does that mean you can't go crazy?" He asked curiously, innocently.

Every question Bob had, she answered. He told her that his dad watched Nascar while he was going up but he couldn't get into it. Didn't have the time once he joined the navy.

She asked him all about that, just as curious as he was about her job. Bob knew she was meant to be this big celebrity, but she was normal with him, and he really appreciated it.

He hadn't known who she was going into this weekend, but he heard the way the fans screamed her name. She was so famous, and he was just a boy from Montana.

"Are you and your friends watching anything else of the Grand Prix weekend?" She asked as she ate a piece of lettuce (literally just holding a big piece of lettuce to her lips and crunching on it).

Bob shook his head as he looked down at the table in front of him. "'Friad not, ma'am," he said, looking at her over the top of his glasses. Bob didn't know what compelled him to do it, but he took them off.

"Aw," she said with a pout. "I liked them."

"Really?" Bob couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. "I used to have ones with slightly thicker frames, but these are military issued," he explained, putting them back on his face.

She grinned at him. "They're cute," she said, resting her cheek in her hand. It was undeniably flirty, and her grin was only making it worse. Well, that would have been if Bob could have allowed himself to believe that was flirting with him.

"I could get you tickets, if you'd like," she said. "You and your pilot friends. You can come back back to the Ferrari garage, support us for the rest of the weekend."

Bob gave her a gentle smile. "I'd like that," he said.

They continued chatting until she had to head back to the garage. Bob followed her, walking behind her.

She took him back to the garage, leaving him to stand with the rest of the Ferrari guests while she disappeared into her drivers room. Bob couldn't help but think of her as she got herself ready, getting dressed into her fireproofs and race suit. If Nat was here, he could ask her for advice.

Ten minutes before the start of FP2, she walked over to Bob. He'd seen her dressed down in a Ferrari hoodie and cute cargos, seen her in her race suit, and seen her in her fire proofs, race suit sitting low on her hips.

That was how she walked towards him. He'd seen so little of her, but this was his favourite (and he certainly wanted to see more). "Want to sit in the car?" She asked, hands on her hips.

***

The first thing she did after FP2 was give Bob her phone number. He couldn't quite believe it, and made a mental note to recount everything to Natasha as soon as he got back to the hotel.

"Have you got a way back to your hotel?" She asked, her helmet tucked beneath her arm.

"I, uh..." No, he and Natasha had gotten a cab together.

She waved him off before he could give her a proper answer. "I can drive you, if you'd like," she offered.

That was how Bob found himself sitting in an F1 drivers car, telling her about his childhood as she took him back to his hotel. He told her about his big family and the mountains he grew up around. He told her about when he joined the military, about his first time in Top Gun and his permanent stationing in Coronado.

Before very long they were pulling up outside of his hotel. "Well, here we are," he said, patting his legs. He didn't move to leave the car, but she didn't much mind.

"I really liked meeting you today, Bob," she said as she tapped the heel of her hand against the steering wheel.

"It was lovely to meet you, too," he said.

"Promise you'll text me?"

"Promise."

She held out her pinky finger and Bob wrapped his own around it, sealing the deal. He looked at her one last time and climbed out of the car, heading into the hotel.

Bob couldn't hide his smile as he walked through the lobby and into the elevator. Just days ago he'd hated the thought of a military flyover for the Las Vegas Grand Prix. Now, he couldn't wait to get back to the track, back to the Ferrari garage.

Nat noticed it the minute he walked through the door of the hotel room they were sharing. "Had a good time watching the rest of it?" She asked as she pushed away from the desk in the room.

Bob nodded as he pulled out his phone, clicking on her contact. But, the moment he was there, he didn't know what to say to her. "Nat," he called, looking up at her. "I need your help."

He only needed Nat's help to get the ball rolling. But soon, she and Bob were sending messages back and forth with just a second long gap between. Sometimes Bob took a little longer to reply, but only because Nat was reading the messages over his shoulder and assuring him that she was flirting.

Bob couldn't believe it. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't.

"I'll go with you tomorrow," Nat said as she climbed into her bed. It was incredibly late and Bob was hyper-aware that they were still texting. "Find out if she really is flirting with you."

"Nat..."

"Goodnight, Bob."

Natasha went to sleep, but Bob stayed up. She was still replying to his messages, and he couldn't bring himself to not respond. At least until she turned around and wished him goodnight.

When Bob woke up, she had already texted him. I don't have to be on track until later - wanna get food?

Who was Bob to say no? Natasha grinned as he got himself ready, including his glasses. (He had brought his contacts to Vegas because of how much he hated wearing his glasses. He didn't have time to put them in before they headed to the track the day before, but Nat didn't expect him to wear them now).

He walked out of the hotel, ignoring Hangman and Rooster as they called after him. They sat in the lobby, do doubt waiting for Natasha as they whistled at him.

Bob kept going. He saw her car before he walked out of the glass doors, and had to stop himself from breaking into a small jog. As he approached, she pushed open the passenger side door. "Hey, Robby!" She called, wearing a grin.

"Hey," Bob said, wearing a smile as he climbed into the passenger side.

As soon as he was buckled in, she began driving. "Have you ever been to Vegas before?" She asked as she headed towards the strip.

Bob shook his head. "No, ma'am," he said. It wasn't in the same way he'd said 'ma'am' before. No, those time he had been nervous saying it. This time, it was so fucking cute and she loved it. "I don't get enough leave for that."

"Why do you call me ma'am?" She asked, but she never wanted it to stop.

Bob couldn't stop his smile. "My momma raised me right."

That much she could tell. She parked the car and climbed out as Bob did the same. "Come on," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along.

They went to a restaurant. Bob didn't catch the name of it as she pulled him through the doors. Even when sat gave the waiter her name, she was still holding his hand.

They sat down at a table for two. It felt far too intimate, almost like a date. She couldn't order a drink, but insisted that Bob did. He ordered one beer and made sure to make it last through their entire lunch.

She ordered a salad. Bob wanted to do the same, but she could see how conflicted he was. "Have whatever you want," she said, lowering her menu.

So, he did just that. Bob got himself a burger, the cheapest one on the menu (which was still incredibly expensive).

While they ate, Bob couldn't ignore the way her foot touched his knee beneath the table. He gulped as he reached for his beer.

While they waited, she told Bob about how she had grown up. Karting from a young age before moving onto single seaters.

The more she spoke, the more Bob could imagine getting into F1. Watching races, coming to see her in Vegas when he wasn't deployed. He just had to hope she still liked him enough to keep in contact with him.

They spent the entire afternoon together, until she was taking Bob to the track with her. Pictures of the two of them were taken as they walked through the paddock, too close to just be friends.

Once again, Bob stood in the garage while she completed the last practice session. She led, the fastest car until the Red Bulls were released onto the track.

But still, Bob couldn't stop watching the number 53 car. She came into the pits, had her tyres changed and went out a few minutes later.

Bob couldn't help but smile as he watched her climb the leaderboard. When practice ended, she didn't come in right away, doing a practice start with the other drivers.

When she got out of her car, she pulled off her helmet and balaclava, and spoke to her engineers. She had looked so happy when she climbed out of the car, but Bob watched as her face fell.

She walked over to him, unable to keep herself from sighing. The anger dropped from her face, replaced by sadness. "Wanna come sit in my drivers room?"

So, Bob followed her to her drivers room. She led him inside and shut the door behind him, letting out a breath as she leaned against it.

"Everything okay?" Asked Bob as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

She unzipped her overalls and let them fall to her hips. Bob shuffled over on the couch, giving her space. She sat beside him, shutting her eyes as she leaned back. "Because of the parts they'd had to replace in my car, I'm probably going to get a penalty later," she mumbled.

Her head fell onto his shoulder and Bob didn't move. He hesitated before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. That that, she shuffled slightly closer, which Bob didn't mind one bit.

Suddenly, she let out a weak laugh. "You're kinda making me want to stay in the states a little longer, Robby," she mumbled.

He looked down at her. "Would you? Seriously?" Bob could imagine it then, taking her to stay with him in San Diego, taking her to Montana to meet his mom at Christmas.

She shook her head. "I can't," she said and sighed through her nose. "There's one last race before the end of the season."

After that, Bob wanted to say. But he squeezed her shoulder instead.

When her trainer came in, Bob wished her good luck and headed back out to the garage. While he waited, he pulled out his phone and sent Natasha a text. She hadn't gone to the track with him, instead going with Bradley and Jake to the hangar they would be flying from.

If Nat showed Rooster and Hangman his texts, he'd never hear the end of it. But Bob realised he didn't mind. Let them talk, he was here with her.

The first round of the qualifying session was about to start. Bob sort of knew what to expect, she'd explained it to him while they sat in her drivers room, her head on his shoulder. He watched as she walked towards the car, her red, gold, black and white helmet on her head.

She climbed into the car and somebody strapped her in as somebody else spoke to her. She nodded at whatever they were saying and put her thumbs up.

Admittedly, Bob couldn't tell the difference between the practice sessions and the qualifying session. He watched as she went from having no time on the board to being the quickest car on track. But then she was knocked out of the top spot, down in eighth by the end of that session.

Bob had assumed that she was starting the race in eighth position after the eighteen minute long qualifying session. But then she and fourteen other drivers were going back out onto track.

Again she was at the top of the board, knocked out by the same driver. But she stayed in fourth, unable to get a quicker time in before the end of the session.

She went out for a third and final time. Bob heard her calling down the radio as somebody got in her way. But she put an impressive time on the board, finishing third.

It may have been obvious to everybody else in the garage, but Bob had to ask the girl standing next to him. She pushed her dark hair behind her ear and answered with a thick French accent. Bob thanked her and watched as the 53 car came into the garage.

She hopped out, did what she needed to do and came to find Bob.

It was near midnight and she couldn't quite believe he was still there, watching her. They'd spent the entire day together, and she'd loved every minute of it.

"Want me to drive you home?" She asked and Bob nodded his head.

She did just that, driving Bob back to his hotel. "They haven't confirmed if I've got a penalty or not," she said as she drove him. "So, for now I'm starting in P3." She quickly glanced at him and then looked back at the road. "Think you might be my good luck charm, Robby," she said and he blushed a deep shade of red.

She pulled up outside of the hotel, just as she had done the day before. And, like the day before, Bob was hesitant to climb out of the car.

As Bob reached for the handle of the door, she opened her mouth, ready to say something, and he stopped. But she closed her mouth. Still, Bob didn't move.

She sucked in a breath and tried again. This time, words came out. "Can I come up?"

Bob knew what that meant. How could he not? Some part of him had been wanting her to ask something like this for the last few hours. But still, he shook his head. "I, uh, I can't. I'm sharing my room with Nat."

"Oh," she said and looked down at the centre console between them. "Oh, shit. Are you and Nat- I didn't mean to overstep... I-"

Bob quickly shook his head. "No. No, Nat's my best friend, but only my best friend," he said. "But, her bed is a couple feet away from mine, so..."

She couldn't help but let a smile cross her face at that. "Can I kiss you, Robby?" She asked.

He leaned over the centre console. Her arms went around his neck, fingers playing with the short hair at the back of his neck.

Bob kissed her. He closed the gap between them, his arm awkwardly resting on her shoulders as his lips moved against her own. Her nose bumped the lens of his glasses, but neither of them minded.

If the expensive car left room for it, he would have moved her onto his lap. But he couldn't. He pulled away, staring at her as his eyes opened again. "Holy shit," he whispered and she grinned at him.

"I'll come and get you before the race," she said and Bob climbed out of the car.

***

He didn't wake up to a text from her. Immediately Bob's mind played tricks on him, telling him that, after they had kissed, she didn't want him.

He sat in the hotel for half of the day, in a perpetual state of anxiousness. Part of him didn't want to move until he heard from her, until he knew that everything was okay.

"You coming?" Nat asked him. He checked his phone one last time before following her out of the hotel room.

He didn't know what she was currently dealing with, that she had just found out about her grid place penalty. "This is such shit!" She cried as she and Charles walked through the paddock. She'd woken up to the news and hadn't had time to message Bob.

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now," Charles said, stopping to sign things for fans (signs, hats, and even a packet of oreos). "How are things going with the navy guy?"

She grinned as they kept walking through the paddock. "We kissed, Cha," she said, suddenly much happier.

"Kissed and..." Charles tried to push.

She shook her head. "Just kissed."

Charles nodded as they walked into the garage. "Just kissed, but you wanted more," he said. "Are you gonna see him before we leave?"

"Yeah," she answered. "I'm gonna go and pick him up before the race."

Through the evening, she and Charles did what they needed to do for the race. When she got a minute, she texted Bob, but she didn't have many opportunities to check her phone.

As soon as she had a chance, she ran out of the paddock. She held her phone to her ear as she went, making her way to her car. Bob picked up on the third ring. "Hey," she said, opening the door of her car. "I'm on my way."

Bob hesitated before he answered. "I'm not at the hotel right now."

"Do you still want to come to the race?" She asked quickly.

"Do you still want me there?"

She let out a laugh. "Of course I do, Robby. Give me the address and I'll pick you up."

That was just what happened. She picked Bob up and took him to the track. She promised the other aviators that she would get him there to watch the military flyover and drove off with him in the passenger seat.

"Have you ever been to San Diego?" Bob asked as she drove. It had been playing on his mind a lot since they kissed, his best case scenario (which was currently happening. He could have laughed at himself for being so worried).

She shook her head. "I haven't had a chance to explore outside of the places we have Grand Prix," she answered.

"So, you haven't been to Montana?"

"Nope."

Bob couldn't help but smile. He sucked in a breath, steadying himself. "I don't know when you're gonna have time off, but I could show you Montana, if you'd like."

She grinned at him as she parked the car. "I'd love that, Robby," she said and climbed out of the car.

She checked the time on her watch, grabbed her hand and began running. "I'm late!" She cried. Bob was only happy to run beside her, heading into the Ferrari garage. He slowed to a walk, but she kept going, running to her drivers room to pull on her fireproofs and overalls.

Bob watched it all. He watched as she stood for the national anthem with her fellow drivers, watched as she completed the formation lap from the back of the grid (something he had to ask about), and watched as she raced.

Bob couldn't help but be impressed as she fought her way across the track, racing past most of the grid. She overtook ten other cars, finishing in 5th.

When she climbed out of the car, Bob could see just how happy she was from her body language alone. She did what she had to do, spoke to the team and was interviewed, before she ran over to Bob and threw her arms around him.

"That was incredible!" He cried, smiling down at her. "I didn't realise racing was so exciting."

She grinned and kissed his cheek. "Think you'll watch next weeks race?"

"Definitely," he said.

He hadn't expected her to kiss him in front of all of the cameras. But Bob didn't mind. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close until she pulled away.

"I leave in the morning," she whispered in his ear. "Stay with me, in my hotel. One last night."

"Until Montana?" Bob asked, his forehead against her own.

"Until Montana."

a/n: ok i loved this and it may need a part two lol

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #robert floyd #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader smut #robert bob floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd fluff #robert floyd smut #robert floyd x you #top gun #top gun bob #top gun maverick

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folkloresthings · 8 months

Note

can you please do comforting fernando after a tough race 🤍

HEARTSTRINGS. ❨ fernando alonso x reader ❩

“fuck!”

your head snaps up towards the shout, eyes having only left the screen for a moment when it happens. there’s a lot of technical babble, none of which you understand, expect one line.

“… retire the car.”

a heartstring tugs at your chest, guiltily hoping it’s lance’s car that pulls into the pit lane. but it’s a white number fourteen that flashes on the screen, and then on the entrance to the garage. gripping the chair under you, you wait in anticipation for the storm about to come.

it had been building for days. poor communication from the team, a bad start in qualifying, and now an engine failure. fernando’s patience with alpine was running thin and you feared the string was about to snap.

“‘nando…” you mutter as he climbs from the car, tugging off his helmet to reveal the sour scowl underneath. engineers pull him away, giving a short brief before he’s ushered to his post—race interview, the other cars still whizzing loudly outside.

all you can do is wait. until his commitments are complete, there’s nothing you can do to comfort his sorrow and pain. at most, you wander back to his drivers room and make some tea for you both — it usually calms him down pretty well.

your leg is bouncing against the chair when the door flies open and shuts again, fernando hurrying inside. you watch him silently, hands ripping off his suit until it falls at his waist, tight fireproofs laid underneath.

“i made tea,” you tell him, tentatively, rising from your seat. he glances towards the two mugs, yours already a few gulps emptier. visibly, he sighs. shoulders slump and give in, reaching across to pull your body to his.

“it’s okay. it’s only one race.” it isn’t, you know that, but it feels like the right thing to say.

“how the fuck did they not notice during the pit?” fernando grumbles against your shoulder. you feel his tension rising again, so you squeeze him a little tighter.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, head turning in the embrace to softly kiss his cheek. he turns to meet you, gentle eyes turned so sad when they meet your own. it tugs at you, making you want to give alpine a piece of your own mind — if only it wouldn’t make things worse.

“i really wanted it,” he admits, eyes glistening. you’re the only one to ever see this side. beyond the stoic, big bad wolf. you get to see the hurt and the pain this career causes him, and god you wish you didn’t because it makes you sick to your stomach.

“i know,” you coo, pulling him back in. his face nestled in your neck, your hand cradling the crown of his head. you sway slightly, feeling his emotions subside with each passing moment. “want some tea, now?”

fernando nods against your soft sweater, but it still takes another minute for him to pull back. when he does, he takes both his mug and you back to the small couch with him. balancing the tea in one hand, he tugs you close to his side with the other. it stays there, glued to your leg, rubbing small circles on the skin below your skirt.

“thank you,” he murmurs after a few minutes of quiet. you look over at him and spot the love in his eyes that you’d grown accustomed to noticing. smiling, you lean into him more.

“it’s just some tea,” you muse.

“no,” he shakes his head, managing a small breath of a laugh. “i mean, for everything. for being there for me, no matter what.”

a heat rises in you that you never want to go away. love, adoration, everything good filling every crevice in your body and you’re sure you’d never find something as pure as what you had with fernando had you lived a thousand years.

“i love you, ‘nando. i’m always going to be there.” you grasp at his wrist, the one resting on your leg. nudging forward, you softly kiss his tea—stained lips. he chases after them, even as you smile fondly at him.

“i love you so very much, corazón,” fernando mumbles, accent thick amongst his emotions. “can we go back to the hotel? let’s just order room service and watch those awful movies you like.”

your eyes roll with affection. “please, you like them too.”

his lips pull into a smirk, standing to his feet and taking you with him. he sets both mugs down, taking a few minutes to change into his own clothes. you fold his suit neatly for him, setting it aside as he pulls on his shorts and top. just before you can reach for the door, he grips your waist softly and pulls you flush to his chest.

his lips fall softly on your own, sucking carefully at the swell of your bottom lip. by instinct, his tongue licks into your mouth, dancing lovely past your own. there’s a passion there, but nothing heated or desperate. just wanting to be close.

“thank you, again,” fernando repeats, brushing your hair back from your forehead. you smile, nuzzling against his touch for a slight second, heart squeezing in your chest.

“i’m proud of you, no matter what.”

#🍾 ﹐ becca hits 1k!#🌙 ﹐ drabbles.#formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #fernando alonso drabble #fernando alonso blurb #fernando alonso fluff #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso #fernando alonso instagram au #fernando alonso x reader

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2-fast-2-curious · 2 years

Note

Christine honey, do you take writing request too?? If you do, can i req Pierre x reader where the reader wearing his tight long sleeved racing shirt and kinda distracted during his media interview bcoz of it.. idk, i really wanna wear that 😆😆..

Nonnie, you must know how the white fireproofs make me feel...

There's a line from this audio that inspired me

Warnings: I have no idea what happens after races and stuff

Just gonna tack on that I'm gonna write this for the plus-sized girls because I'm tired of fics where his clothes are huge and hang off your body. Like Missy Elliot raps in Lizzo's Tempo: all the thick girls need to get on the floor

Pierre just finished his race and the two of you did your typical post-race ritual of kisses and you telling him how proud you were of him and him telling you how he couldn't have done it without you. Even though you know he totally could've.

You slipped away quietly so he could celebrate with the rest of the team. It was a night race in the desert. While you loved seeing the city lit up in the distance, the temperature had dropped swiftly and your bare arms were now uncomfortably cold.

You broke away from the crowd to walk back to Pierre's driver's room. You were hoping he might have an extra sweater in there to warm you up. Pierre knew sometimes the crowds could get overwhelming for you so you weren't too worried about him looking for you.

The room was pretty empty and you could see right away that there was no sweater of his you could steal. The only clothing you could see was the neatly folded stack of Pierre's fireproof underwear. You grabbed a top and held it against your body, the clothing was supposed to fit tightly on Pierre's impressively sculpted physique and you could already tell it would be snug on you as well, especially around your bust. You pulled it over your head and it was surprisingly soft but most importantly the insulating fabric kept you warm. You smoothed the material over your tummy and went back to find Pierre.

You saw some of the drivers and PR staff in the media pen doing interviews and you stood off to the side to wait until Pierre was finished. You may have taken a sneaky picture or two as he spoke animatedly to the interviewer, his eyes full of mischief. When he finally spotted you, his expression darkened. You were confused, he seemed so happy to see you just moments ago when you were on the other side of the barricades. When he was done with his interviews, Pierre came over to you and wordlessly grabbed your hand, walking over to an area that was less crowded.

"What are you wearing?" Pierre never told you what you could and couldn't wear, in fact, it was quite the opposite. He hated when you claimed you couldn't wear the clothes that you wanted because they weren't made for your body type or didn't come in your size. In fact, you had discovered so many clothing brands that were stylish and size-inclusive thanks to Pierre sending you all the different accounts he saw while he was double tapping his way through Instagram.

"Your fireproofs?" You felt anxiety building up in your stomach and nervousness at what Pierre wanted to tell you. You caught the briefest glimpses of yourself off a reflective surface in the distance. Maybe it was your body dysmorphia but you swore you could see that the tight white material was making the soft flesh of your body bulge in a manner that wasn't flattering.

"I know what my fireproofs look like but you cannot wear that here." Pierre gave you his signature smirk but it did nothing to put you at ease. You felt like a joke. You swallowed thickly imagining how disgusted Pierre must be at how you looked in his clothes that he brought you over here so you didn't embarrass him anymore.

Pierre's smirk left his face as he noticed your bottom lip wobbling and tears welling up in your eyes. "What's wrong?"

You sighed. "I was really cold so I put it on because it was the first thing I saw. I wasn't even thinking about how it would look and now I'm sad because I'll never be one of those girls who look cute in their boyfriend's clothes because...well because of this." Pierre's brows furrowed as you gestured to your torso with your hands.

He pulled you close and gently rubbed your back in soft patterns. "I think you misunderstood me. You look more than cute in my fireproofs."

You pulled away from Pierre with a look of confusion on your face. "Then why can't I wear them?"

Pierre's hands brushed along your sides following the material which was hugging the curve of your waist. He leaned in so you could feel his breath against your cheek. "Because seeing you in them makes me want to fuck you.

He slotted his thigh between your legs and you could feel his hard-on underneath his race suit. You gasped at both his actions and his bluntness. His accent already made everything sound so sensual but when he was actually talking dirty it was something else entirely.

"You know we don't wear anything under this..." Pierre gently tugged on the white material and let go so it snapped against your skin.

"When I see you wearing it I can't help but imagine you with nothing underneath too." He licked his lips imagining how sheer the fabric would be stretched over your tits, whether he would be able to see the outline of your nipples through the fireproofs. Pierre's hands inched up to rest on your ribcage his thumbs rubbing circles against your breasts. Even through your layers, you could tell he could feel how hard your nipples were. "I don't think this is just because of the cold."

Your heated embrace was interrupted by a handler looking for Pierre and he reluctantly let you go.

"Get back to the room. When I get there you better wear them properly...or else I might have to punish you." With one last kiss and a hard squeeze and smack to your ass, Pierre let you scurry off, licking his lips as he watched the way your hips swayed.

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x y/n #x plus size reader #formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut #f1 smut #formula 1 x you #f1 imagines #formula 1 fic #formula 1 drabble

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lovelytsunoda · 2 years

Text

exile // zhou guanyu

summary: after the horrific crash at the british gp, y/n is left wondering if her boyfriend is okay, and nobody in the garage will tell her anything. she’s seen this film before, and she didn’t like the ending.

pairing: zhou guanyu x reader

warnings: mentions of that crash we don’t want to remember !! but there is a happy ending.

authors note: if you listen to exile by taylor swift while you read, you’ll probably cry just as much as i did while I was writing. i had a lot of feelings, and this seemed like the most productive way to do something with them. shorter than what i normally write, but emotional nontheless

“mhmm, babe, as wonderful as this is, you have a race to go finish.” y/n laughed as zhou peppered her neck in kisses.

the alfa romeo driver chuckled, resting his forehead against his girlfriend’s. “one more kiss?”

with eyes like that, who could say no? with a smile, y/n pushed up on her toes and pressed a kiss to her boyfriend’s lips. as she pulled away, zhou chased her lips, pressing one more kiss to her lips before the couple separated.

“oi, that was two kisses, mister.” y/n joked as her boyfriend pulled on the top of his fireproof race suit. with a smile, she reached out to help him do up the zipper.

zhou raised an eyebrow in a manner that he hoped was at least somewhat seductive. “you should watch what you do with those hands, otherwise i might never make it out to the garage.”

“zhou guanyu, get your ass over there and score some points, you hear me?” y/n laughed, lacing her fingers with his as the lovers departed from zhou’s driver’s room.

y/n waited in the alfa romeo garage, smiling as she watched her boyfriend talk to the engineers, mechanics and his teammate, valtteri bottas. the drivers got into their cars, and lined up on the starting grid.

zhou was starting in ninth.

y/n pulled her zip up sweater tighter around her body against the cold british wind as one of the engineers passed her a set of chunky headphones so that she could listen in on her lover’s race. she sat at the back of the garage with valtteri’s girlfriend tiffany, waiting for the race to begin.

the race was barely into turn one when all hell broke loose, zhou’s alfa romeo flipping over and skidding in the direction of the barrier, pieces of debris flying off the red-and-white car as it flew, sailing over the tyre barrier and getting trapped between the fence and the other side of the barrier.

“zhou!” y/n cried, feeling as if she had been punched in the stomach. time seemed to slow as the red flags were waved.

all the breath left y/n’s body as her knees gave way, tiffany reaching out to steady her as george russell leaped out of his mercedes and ran across the field towards zhou’s alfa romeo.

“zhou, can you hear me?” the race engineer’s voice was steady. it had to stay that way. if zhou panicked, the situation could get worse.

tears started to stream down y/n’s face “can you hear him? is he still alive?”

tiffany tried to get her to calm down, running her hands up and down y/n’s arms. “he’s going to be okay, y/n. it’s going to be okay.”

while the engineers tried to get through to zhou in the car, and the recovery vehicles came out, y/n reached up to her neck, fiddling with the silver chain she wore, a delicate green stone hanging from the end of it.

an anniversary present from zhou.

“babe, don’t freak out, but i got you something.”

y/n giggled, reaching across the table for her boyfriend’s hand. it was their first anniversary, and zhou was taking a break from the chaos of f2 to whisk his girlfriend away to paris, complete with dinner at a restaurant that provided an incredible view of the eiffel tower.

“baby, why would i freak out.”

“because you’d probably say something like ‘how much did that cost? you don;t have to keep spending all of your money on me’.”

“are you going to give me a reason to?”

zhou’s cheeks heated up as he reached into the deep pockets of his suit jacket. “maybe.” he said simply, placing the navy blue box on the table. “just open it.”

y/n let go of her boyfriend’s hand to carefully open the lid of the box, a gasp escaping her throat.

“zhou, it’s beautiful.”

she ran her finger over the deep green stone, carved into a delicate heart shape and set in silver.

“let me help you put it on.” the virtuosi driver offered, moving to his girlfriend;s side of the table and taking the chain from her hands, reaching around her neck to do up the clasp, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

“i love you so much. happy anniversary, y/n.”

“i love you too, zhou guanyu. happy anniversary.”

“is he okay? is he awake? can you tell me anything?”

but the team knew just about as much as y/n y/l/n did.

“he’s awake! he’s conscious!” the race engineer called suddenly, relief spreading through y/n’s body as she went limp, sinking to her knees with tiffany beside her.

“thank god. oh my god, when can i go see him?”

“they’re bringing him out now.”

y/n didn’t wait for anybody else, finding strength in the fact that the love of her life was alive as she ran to the medical tent. all around the paddock, people working with the teams shot her sympathetic glances as they watched her running across the paddock, anxious to be at her boyfriend’s side. none of it registered to y/n, however, as all she could think about was zhou.

when she got to the medical tent, pushing the door open, she was out of breath, scanning the crowd for the stretcher they brought in from the track.

“y/n!”

when she heard his voice, she thought she was going to melt into the floor, more tears streaking down her puffy face as she crossed the medical bay to where zhou was waiting, almost completely unharmed as she rushed over, pulling the driver into her arms with a sob.

“i’m okay, baby. i’m okay.”

“i thought you were gone. i thought i’d lost you.” y/n cried harder, tightening her grip on the fabric of her boyfriend’s race suit, closing her eyes and inhaling the scent of his hair.

zhou squeezed her hand. “you are never going to lose me, you hear. i’m always going to come back to you. just maybe not in one piece.”

“don’t even joke.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“i love you more, zhou.”

“please stop crying, otherwise i’m going to cry as well.” the driver pleaded, wrapping his arms around y/n.

“then we’ll cry together.” y/n decided, also silently pledging to never let him go again.

#zhou guanyu x reader #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #alfa romeo f1 #british gp 2022 #Spotify

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whorekneecentral · 2 years

Note

Can you pretty please give us you being an employee for Mercedes and having grown really close to Lewis during your time working there, and one night you’re alone in your hotel room trying so hard to get yourself off after a long day of being sexually frustrated between Lewis’ teasing and seeing how hot he (and his massive bulge) looks in his race shit. But while masturbating you didn’t realize that you accidentally called Lewis and he’s been listening to you while simultaneously getting himself off. And when you realize this, you’re all embarrassed and on the verge of freaking out until he soothes you and let’s you know that he’s on his way to your hotel room so you can be fucked properly 😌

And cue you both being in for one hell of a night 😮‍💨

okay pur this is so hot, how did this get buried in my inbox ?? - part two

His press officer followed him everywhere. Everywhere Lewis was, you followed behind. Not just because it was your job but because you actually liked the guy.

You and Lewis got on well, you had the same sense of humour, got along outside of track, your personalities complimented each other.

Everyone seemed to notice that; the fans commenting on how sweet you and Lewis were.

A picture of you two went viral, Lewis give you his coat as the rain came down, holding the umbrella over the two of you as you walked back to the Mercedes hospitality together. Lewis’s coat swallowed you whole, the jacket too long and too big on him so it basically covered all of you.

It was late in the afternoon when you got back to the hotel, Lewis driving the two of you back.

Once again, you were wearing his coat because you left your sweater in your room that morning. The driver walks you to your door, you give him back his coat. “Thank you.” you smile as you hand it back to him.

“No worries, sweetheart.” Lewis rests a hand on your arm, “sleep well.”

“You too,” you step into your room and shut the door. You were exhausted, quali was washed out by the rain, the media in a frenzy about the starting grid.

Lewis didn’t bother changing before press today, his racesuit hanging off his hips as he spoke to the reporters. His black fireproofs clinging to his body. The image engraved in your mind as you dropped yourself on your bed, you stretch and relax into the mattress.

You just needed to relax for a bit before doing some work for tomorrow.

Your white shirt smelled like Lewis’s cologne; strong and manly. Your head was swirling, next thing you know, your hands are between your legs.

The phone on the bed was unlocked, you didn’t even realize with all the shifting, you had accidentally called someone.

Lewis was confused when your name popped up on the screen, he sits on his bed before he answers. “Y/n?” he asks, the line was quiet. Lewis calls you name again before he realizes what had happened.

You called him by accident.

Just as he was about to hang up, he heard a faintest moan. Surely he heard wrong.

There’s no way you’re - “Lew,” you breath, your voice light and airy.

You were touching yourself.. on the phone with him... to the thought of him?

No, his ears were deceiving him. There’s no way in hell he’s hearing right.

“Lew - oh, like that.” You mumble, your back arching slightly, the knot in your stomach tightening.

Lewis sat quietly on the other end of the line - it was wrong to listen but he couldn't pull himself away.

To hear his name fall from your lips like that was like heaven on earth.

The sound slipping past your lips was angelic, his cock twitches just at the sound. He can’t help but think what you would feel like wrapped around him.

You were laying there, catching your breath when you heard him call your name. Your blood run cold, unsure if your mind is playing a trick on you.

“Y/n,” you hear again, you flip the phone that was tossed on the bed over. Lewis’ name on screen, 12 minutes into the call.

“Lewis, I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to call you, I hope you don’t think I'm-” “Sweetheart, I’m coming over.” He cuts you off and you sit up, confused.

“What ?” You ask him. You can hear the shuffling on his side. “You can’t think I would listen to all of that and not fuck you afterwards.” Lewis tells you, walking down the hallway to your room.

Before you could protest, there’s a knock on your door.

“Open the door,” he tells you over the phone, waiting for you to come and do it.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #I strayed from the ask a little sorry!

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puella-1n-somn10 · 6 months

Text

Meet the Warlocks! Meet them Ȁ̵̬̯̖͉̐͒̀̕͠L̴̝̹̱̽͋̽́̾͋Ļ̶̦̥̇̏̈̈́̚͜͠!̴̢̡͓͉̞͒

Inspired by Candeloro's depiction in A Different Story, @bluethepearldiver and I were brainstorming on the idea of how the mercs' warlocks would look like in human forms the other day. After messing around with loadout.tf, we're glad to bring you the manifestations of our blorbos' despair, traumas, and obsessions!

Full details and items used will be under the cut.

_____________________________________________

Disclaimer; Spy's, Jane's, and Dell's warlocks were all made by Blue, including PG-1986's (Spy's warlock) loadout. The rest was made by me.

Bear in mind that I am still working on a good deal of them; the only one who is remotely finalized is Medic- and Tavish's and Mundy's are still nameless, for corn's sake. I tend to take my time with these buggers, so most of them are subject to change.

Scout

Becquerel, the thunderstorm/disaster warlock, with a hubristic nature.

Voodoo-Cursed Scout Soul

Masked fiend

Biomech backpack

Orion's belt

Fuel Injector

Tomb wrapper

Flak Jack

Fortunate Son

Crook combatant

Searing plasma effect

Weapon: Boston Basher

Themes: Radiation (from all that Bonk! he's been drinking), speed, vermin, rabbits, natural disasters ("I'm a force of nature!"), lightning, war, his huge ego translating into his warlock being fucking huge, also humanity's hubris ending up biting them in the ass, victim of the apocalypse

Pyro

Girra, the oracle of Tartarus, with an idealistic nature.

Blazing bull

Waxy wayfinder

Scrap pack

Hard-headed hardware

Lunatic's leathers

Charred chainmail

Burning flames effect

Weapon: Backburner

Themes: Hell itself, power metal music (ignore the fact that TF2 takes place in the 60's-70's), forged by fire, the uncanny valley, uncontrollable smiles and laughter, unawareness, accepting help from a burning hand.

Spy

PG-1986, the cloaked warlock. His nature is futility.

Bedouin bandana

Puffy Provacateur

Doublecross-comm

Griffin’s gogs

Voodoo cursed spy

Backstabber’s boomslang

Weapon: L'Etranger

Themes: Post-apocalypse, civilians being the targets of these bloody conflicts, lone survival, loss of identity, regret, family curses, separation, tough measures, possible backstabbing, snakes, rabbits, hiding

Soldier

Anthony Clement McAuliffe, the vermin warlock, with a patriotic nature.

Lieutenant bites the dust

Tin pot (Battered)

Chaser (grenades ver)

Lone survivor

Man in slacks

Grub grenades

Sharp chest pain

Weapon: Beggar's Bazooka

Themes: The reality that America is a pile of flashy garbage embedded on stolen land, pollution, propaganda hiding the truth by claiming it to be a land of the free, lead, vermin like raccoons and maggots, plastic, poverty

Heavy

Pushkin, the guardian warlock, with a selfless nature.

Pocket medic

Spiral sallet

Big steel jaw of summer fun

Purity fist

Fortune hunter

Batter's bracers

Kapitan's kaftan

Cerebral discharge effect

Weapon: Brass Beast

Themes: Guarding, old tales being passed down through generations, the harsh winter, flames, defenses, steel, gentle strength- with a dash of bloodthirst ofc, leadership.

Medic

Asclepius, the warlock of reconfiguration. His nature is wonder.

Voodoo cursed medic soul

Second Opinion

Blighted beak

Wings of Purity

Vicar's vestments

Main cast (critical)

Quadwrangler

Archimedes

Infernal Grip effect

Weapon: Vita-saw

Themes: I don't feel like copying and pasting every little detail from that megapost, folks. Here's him without the mask, tho!

Engineer

Robert, the bell warlock, whose nature is bewilderment.

Texas ten gallon

Teufort tooth kicker

Fancy spellbook

Something special for someone special

Flared frontiersman

Iron fist

Underminer's overcoat (paint sweater)

Electric hat protector

Weapon: Southern Hospitality

Themes: Repentance, faith in a higher power, trust, regret, loss, holiness, sainthood, blueprints, transhumanism, mourning

Demoman

???

Prince Tavish's crown

Whiskey bib

Lordly lapels

Sole saviors

Shin shredders

Fireproof secret diary

Rings of fire effect

Weapon: Loose Cannon

Themes: Royalty, abandonment, sudden loss, honor, plants, ghosts, family curses, loyalty.

Sniper

???

Crocodile smile

Falconer

Wet works

Lil' snaggletooth

Bruiser's bandana (clean)

Final frontiersman

Scoped spartan

Eldritch horror effect

Weapon: Sydney Sweeper

Themes: Hiding away, efficiency, rain forests, underwater, approval- or lack of it, being out of place

#team fortress 2 #puella magi madoka magica #crossover tag #fortress magica #witching hours #loadout.tf #the hyperfixation. it has consumed me.#chat room #crossover witches

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obscure-imaginations · 4 months

Text

Yuletide Blessings, everyone! Been doing my best to dodge religious trauma this season. Have a Yule headcanon post.

Gift giving among Kain and his lieutenants. Tried to keep it canon-friendly but a couple modernish items slip in (it was too funny to not put!) VERY long post, SFW, cut for space.

What Kain gets...

From Raziel: Was tempted to give him nothing, but relented and got him a fruit-scented candle.

From Turel: A handcrafted metal hair pin with a bat motif.

From Dumah: A crochet sweater. (It's too small.)

From Rahab: Shiny crystals he got from the lakes.

From Zephon: Spider-themed cupcakes. (Kain is a bit afraid to eat them.)

From Melchiah: A handmade card and a box of expensive chocolates.

What Raziel gets...

From Kain: An extremely expensive fragrance oil, the kind the Razielim would make.

From Turel: A crystal carved into a bat. (Crystal provided by Rahab.)

From Dumah: A crochet miniskirt. (He was trying to make pants but couldn't properly account for Raziel's thighs so he gave up there.)

From Rahab: A swimming skirt from the Rahabim. Now Raziel can swim with them all!

From Zephon: A scarf made of the finest silks. (Dumah accuses him of being a ripoff.)

From Melchiah: An essential oil diffuser.

What Turel gets...

From Kain: Shiny crystal earrings (crystals provided by Rahab).

From Raziel: A mug that says "#1 Pit God". (It was for a heavy metal concert but it counts, right?)

From Dumah: Gave up on crochet and got him a bat plushie.

From Rahab: A stained glass window hanger. The motif is a bird.

From Zephon: An ancient copper sword found in the depths of the Cathedral.

From Melchiah: A beaded necklace to attach to his glasses (so maybe Turel will stop losing them).

What Dumah gets...

From Kain: Candles with woody scents.

From Raziel: A fireproof metal box. (No one laughs.)

From Turel: An obsidian dagger.

From Rahab: Tickets for an aquarium. (Dumah is very excited to ramble with Rahab about the various fishies!)

From Zephon: A giant weighted blanket.

From Melchiah: A puppy. They talked about it first so Dumah could be prepared. Now Dumah has a sweet puppy to dote on.

What Rahab gets...

From Kain: A giant trilobite fossil. (No one knows where he got it and they are too scared to ask.)

From Raziel: A suncatcher in the shape of a fish.

From Turel: Replacement windows for the Abbey.

From Dumah: Oil for his rotary engine in the lighthouse.

From Zephon: A waterproof pouch made from spider silk.

From Melchiah: Fossilized coral he found in his territory.

What Zephon gets...

From Kain: A 'Phantom of the Opera' mask.

From Raziel: A clown mask. (Zephon proceeds to use it to scare small children.)

From Turel: A small metal spider statue.

From Dumah: A crochet shawl that looks like a spider web.

From Rahab: Dried fish to feed to his spiders.

From Melchiah: A tarantula he found wandering about in his territory. (Zephon names it 'Corpse'.)

What Melchiah gets...

From Kain: Fancy cologne.

From Raziel: Flower essential oils.

From Turel: A beautifully crafted metal cane for when Mel is in between limbs.

From Dumah: A pair of crochet earmuffs.

From Rahab: Needles made from bone.

From Zephon: A GIANT box of mints. (Melchiah is excited to snack upon them.)

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bwoahtastic · 10 months

Note

some more brief(ish) thoughts about small fem nico (and the men who adore her) because I am fully obsessed with her:

- nico is a total daddy’s girl, but not in a spoiled brat way. keke loves her so much, she is his tiny little angel baby and he will do anything to make her happy. he was incredibly proud of her when she demanded her independence, because he knew that she was taking her life into her own hands, but that doesn’t stop him from worrying constantly. after all, he knows better than anyone what f1 is like and how tough it can be for women, and doesn’t want nico to struggle.

- nico has tiny little feet that jenson absolutely adores. he has never been into feet before, but whenever nico complains about her feet hurting, whether it’s after a night out or after a race in which the brakes on her car pressed uncomfortably, jenson always ends up giving her a foot massage. he loves how her toenails are always painted in the same minty green/blue as her racing boots and gloves, and how she just melts when he digs his thumb into the arch of her foot. nico loves playing footsie, and when they’re out at dinner, even if it’s a grid dinner with all of the other drivers, nico will slip off her shoes and stroke her feet up jenson’s leg. jenson doesn’t mind when they’re alone, but when everyone else is there he has to work so hard not to show how much it’s affecting him.

- nico has stolen clothing from absolutely everyone that she cares about. she has shirts and racing suits that she stole from her dad when she was younger and would play dress up as a formula one world champion, shirts from lewis when they were holidaying as teenagers and she spent too long in the sun so he gave her his t-shirt to put over her swimsuit and prevent more sunburn (nico said she would give it back but never did), jumpers from mark in her first year when he would throw them at her for shivering so violently in the garage (again she said she would give them back but never did and mark never had the heart to ask for them back, especially as it always annoyed jenson when he saw nico in mark’s clothing), even a spare shirt of toto’s, monogram and all, that nico grabbed from the motorhome after getting oil on her own shirt.

- jenson is her favorite victim, however. he always has warm, soft sweaters and coats that envelope her so perfectly, and jenson even leaves little handwarmers in the pockets for when nico gets cold (sometimes she pouts up at him that they're not warm enough so that jenson will hold her hands in his to warm them up). she loves his ratty old t-shirts, and likes wearing them to sleep, although she always teases him that he’s old because the shirts have band names and logos for things that were popular when nico was still a kid. the sexiest nico has ever felt was whilst wearing one of jenson’s crisp white shirts with absolutely nothing else on. she also steals his fireproofs, and their relationship is almost revealed to everyone when she accidentally puts on his fireproof instead of her own before a race.

- you would think that jenson would never get confused between his clothes and nico’s, because hers are so much smaller and there is genuinely no way for it to fit him, but it has happened. jenson is very into triathlons, and has even got nico into them, so they both have wetsuits for the swim. nico is away or sleeping in when jenson leaves for a charity triathlon, grabbing what he thinks is his wetsuit in the process. it’s only when he gets to the startline and tries to fit into what is barely bigger than a child’s wetsuit that he realises he’s grabbed nico’s instead. the photo that jenson’s trainer takes of him, tripping over after having squeezed one leg into the wetsuit, is his profile picture on nico’s phone for six months afterwards.

- toto absolutely adores nico. the first time he meets her at a dtm party he genuinely thinks she’s someone’s teenage daughter, only to realise that she drives for the team that he wants to buy. he laughs her off when she demands that he let her take her Williams race engineer over to Mercedes, and is both shocked and kind of impressed when she stands by it, saying that she wants her engineer back. he’s so proud of her when she wins Monaco for the first time at his first ever race with mercedes, and so impressed when she drinks more than twice her own weight in champagne as a celebration for it.

- toto is more than a foot taller than nico, and they look hilarious stood next to each other. when she’s excited, nico will literally jump on toto to hug him, and he always catches her, swinging her round. when she’s annoyed, nico hates having to crane her neck to look up at him, and instead goes to get a chair to stand on so she’s at eye level, because if she’s going to have an argument, she’s going to do it looking him in the eye.

PLS SMALL FEM NICO IS A FEISTY LITTLE KITTEN SND I AM IN LOVE WITH HER

Nico SO would be a daddy's girl! A little spoiled but still very independant too cos thats important to her. Keke would adore his sweet daughter (he knows she can be a handful tho) and he is ofc a little hesitant when she demands independence but he understands it too! For sure when she is home she gets fussed over a ton tho lol. He alwsys asks her to text after races to make sure she is okay!

Nico's tiny lil feet would be so cute to jenson (really any part of her is)! Nico always complains her feet hurt and Jenson massages them for her cos they are so pretty and she hums so contentedly. And pls Nico with her pretty mint green painted toes and her habit of playing footsie just to annoy jenson kskeks she is a legend and an icon! Jenson gets a little flustered then which Nico loves!

Sksks Mark calling Nico a little gremlin cos she keeps stealing clothes from everyone! She has sweaters and racesuits from her dad (pls nico being homesick and wearing her dad's racesuit while curled up on the sofa 🥺 and she has tshirts from Lewis thst she kept all those years although she doesn't wear them anymore... She for sure wears Mark's sweaters a lot but jenson's are her favorite! They are all soft and old and just smell like jenson which soothes her🥺 (and nngg her in one of his dress shirts would be so sexy!!) And toto's shirt! He would be so soft seeing her with it on

Sjdjss jenson by accident taking Nico's tiny wetsuits and Nico has a muscle ache from laughing after seeing a picture of Jenson trying to get it on lmaooo!

Toto would be so fond of this stubborn little girl! She is demanding and knows what she wants and needs and doesn't back down for him! Pls her standing on a chair to be at eye level telling him he will ot win just looming over her, she wants a fair fight! Hut he loves her too, that's his girl okay! She will hug him so tight when she is happy and wins and he twirls her around! Also smthn happening and he just holds her, lets her hide away in his chest snd she feels so tiny and frail then, and Toto never wants to see her like that again!

#asks #rule63 verse #small fem nico

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