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theonottsbxtch · 6 days ago

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MY KINDA CRAZY | LN4

an: i was listening to do re mi by blackbear and i was just thinking about the concept of lando dating a driver who is just straight up insane but that's their dynamic.

wc: 3.4k

Lando was lounging in his gaming chair, half-focused on his Quadrant stream, when he heard the sound of glass shattering in the distance. His gaze flickered, eyebrows furrowing as the noise registered. He glanced toward his mates on-screen, catching a few laughs over the headset.

“What was that?” Max asked.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned back, glancing over his shoulder toward the window. “Hang on a sec.” He muted his mic, got up and moved toward the source of the commotion.

He reached the edge of the window and peered outside—and there she was, standing beside his brand new black Ferrari, one of his precious golf clubs in hand, bringing it down on the windscreen with a satisfying crack. She looked wild-eyed, fearless, like she belonged right there, shattering his world with a smirk on her face.

He didn’t even have to look at the monitor to know his friends were watching his expression. After a pause, he unmuted the mic. “Uh, guys,” he said, exhaling a laugh. “I’ll be back in five.”

“Is that…?” Steven started. The rest fell into stunned silence, disbelief etched across their voices as he nodded, trying to suppress a grin.

“Bro, are you serious? You need to cut her off,” he heard Ethan say, as the sound of glass crunched through his headset again. They’re trying to talk him out of it, telling him how crazy this is, how she’s crazy. But he knows the truth—that they’re just as bad as each other, and he can’t imagine it any other way.

“I got it handled,” he assured them, already making his way downstairs.

Lando stepped into the lobby, where the apartment security guards were trying—without much success—to talk her down. One of them looked up at him, relief flashing across his face. “Sir, do you want us to call the police? We’ll get her to leave.”

But he just shook his head, giving them a grin. “Nah. I’ll deal with her.”

Striding out, he reached her, catching her wrist just as she raised the golf club for another swing. She froze, looking up at him, and he could see the fire in her eyes, the way she was daring him to react.

He just grinned, leaning in close enough that she could feel his breath brush her cheek. Without breaking eye contact, he wrapped an arm around her waist and, in one swift motion, lifted her up and slinged her over his shoulder. She let out a yelp, then an indignant laugh, smacking his back with the flat of her hand.

“Put me down, you cunt!” she demanded, but there was a thrill in her voice he knew too well.

“Are you done having your moment, sweetheart?” Lando murmured, a teasing edge in his tone. He could feel her bristle, and could almost hear the smirk in her voice when she muttered, “Maybe.”

As he walked back inside, her breathless laughter filling the air, he slid his hand up the back of her thigh, just to hear her gasp. She wriggled against his shoulder, trying to hide the way her body was reacting, but he felt it—felt her melt under his touch, even as she clung to her defiance.

Once they were back inside, he let her down slowly, pressing her back against the wall. She glared up at him, but it was a look laced with something darker, something that has his pulse thrumming. He caged her in with his arms, leaning close enough to feel the heat radiating off her.

“You really thought that was gonna get a reaction out of me?” he murmured, voice low, teasing. She smirked, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Oh, it got a reaction,” she whispered, her fingers sliding down to his belt, tugging him closer.

For a moment, there was just the sound of their breaths, mingling in the charged air between them. Then he closed the gap, capturing her lips in a kiss that was hard and demanding, like they were daring each other to go further. She kissed him back fiercely, her hands twisting into his shirt, holding him as close as possible.

When they broke apart, breathless, he pulled back just enough to whisper against her lips, “Next time, try not to break the Ferrari.”

She grinned, unrepentant. “Can’t make any promises.”

She stepped through the bathroom door, expecting things to be exactly where she left them. Instead, her eyes widen as she notices the vanity—completely empty, wiped clean. Her makeup, all of it, is gone.

She dropped her phone on the floor, her jaw tightening as she stormed through the apartment, finally finding Lando lounging on the sofa, casually scrolling through his phone as if nothing’s amiss.

“You didn’t,” she hissed, fists clenched at her sides. Lando looked up slowly, meeting her glare with an infuriatingly calm expression, one eyebrow raised.

“Oh, I did,” he said, tossing his phone aside and stretching his arms across the back of the sofa. “Figured you might like a fresh start. Maybe if you didn’t wear all that makeup, you wouldn’t be getting so much attention.”

Her hands balled into fists, but she didn’t look away. He watched the spark ignite in her eyes, that unmistakable fire that was both thrilling and a little dangerous. She took a slow step toward him, a mocking smile spreading across her face.

“You’re insane,” she said, voice low and deadly, but he only grinned, watching her like he was daring her to do something about it.

“Yeah?” Lando replied, leaning back and looking her over with a smirk. “But you go wild for it.”

She stalked closer, moving to stand over him, her hands braced on either side of his shoulders, forcing him to look up at her. Her voice dropped, almost a whisper. “That was my stuff, and you don’t get to decide what I wear.”

He let out a low laugh, his gaze unwavering as he reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering just a bit too long. “Then stop trying to get my attention by looking at every other guy,” he murmured, his voice soft but dangerous, his hand trailing down the side of her face, fingers brushing along her jawline.

“You think I’m looking at anyone else?” she breathed, leaning in close enough that her lips grazed his, teasing. Her hands slid up his chest, clutching his shirt as she lowered herself to straddle him, trapping him in place. “Trust me, sweetheart, when I want someone’s attention, I get it.”

Lando felt her heartbeat against his chest, fast and unsteady, betraying the anger simmering just under the surface. He grinned, his hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush together. His voice dropped down to a whisper, low and possessive. “Then prove it.”

She didn’t hesitate, her mouth crashing into his, all sharp teeth and rough edges, like she was determined to make him regret it. He returned the kiss with equal intensity, his grip tightening as he pulled her in deeper, like he was staking his own claim. They were tangled together, her hands gripping his hair as he pressed her closer, their breaths mingling in a haze of frustration and heat.

When they finally pulled back, gasping for air, Lando smirked, brushing his thumb over her swollen lip. “See? Much better.”

When Lando walked in, the first thing he noticed was a mess of fabric strewn across the floor of the living room. The second? That familiar, smug defiance hanging in the air. His designer shirts—one after another—were lying in a pile, each one sliced clean through.

He let out a low, dark laugh, shaking his head as he picked up a piece of ruined silk. Of course she did this. Of course.

He followed the trail of destruction down the hall, where he found her sprawled on their bed, scrolling through her phone as if nothing was out of the ordinary. In her other hand, she was twirling a pair of scissors, the blade glinting as it caught the light.

He cleared his throat, and she glanced up, that innocent look in her eyes that he knew all too well. It was the look she gave right before she said something that’ll push every one of his buttons.

“Something wrong?” she asked, the corner of her mouth quirked up in a satisfied little smirk.

He stepped closer, holding up the tattered remains of one of his favourite shirts. “Oh, nothing,” he drawled, letting the fabric slip from his fingers. “Just wondering if you’ve got something you want to say.”

She gave a nonchalant shrug, returning her attention to her phone as she flicked through it lazily. “Thought I’d free up some space in your wardrobe. You never seemed to like those shirts anyway.”

He chuckled, watching her with narrowed eyes as he sat beside her on the edge of the bed, close enough that she had to look up at him. “And what if I told you that those were my favourites?” he murmured, reaching out to take the scissors from her hand, his fingers brushing her skin just a moment too long.

She tilted her head, her smirk widening as she let him take the scissors, her eyes flicking to his with that bold, unyielding spark he can never resist. “Then maybe you should take better care of your things,” she said, voice low and sweet, laced with mock innocence.

He let out another laugh, setting the scissors aside, his hand lingering on her thigh as he leaned in, close enough that he could feel her breath hitch. “And what am I supposed to do with you, hmm?” he asked, his fingers brushing slowly up her leg, tracing light circles that sent a shiver through her.

She raised her chin, meeting his gaze with a challenging glint. “Maybe you should take better care of your things,” she said again, her tone daring him to react. Her fingers trail up his chest, her touch feather-light, barely there, but enough to send heat coursing through him.

“Careful,” he whispered, voice dropping as he moved his hand up to cup her face, his thumb tracing along her cheek. “Keep this up, and I might have to show you what happens when you mess around this much, sweetheart.”

She leaned into his touch, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

She was exhausted, every muscle aching as she finally made it back to their apartment building after a gruelling day of training, it was hard to keep up with Max sometimes. She was only thinking about a hot shower and maybe collapsing into bed, but when she slid her keycard into the lock, nothing happened. She tried again, frowning as she heard the familiar beep and saw the small red light flash, denying her access.

Frustrated, she let out a sigh and looked up, only to see Lando standing by the window on the second floor, leaning casually against the frame with a smirk stretched across his face.

“You trying to come in?” he called down, amusement glinting in his eyes as he watched her wrestle with the lock.

Her jaw tightens. She raises her voice, letting her irritation show. “Open the door, or I swear I’ll—”

He just laughed, leaning out of the window, entirely unbothered. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I had to revoke your access. Apartment is under my name, after all.” He paused, tilting his head as he looked her over, clearly savouring her frustration. “It’s just... you’ve been taking a few too many liberties lately.”

She scoffed, storming toward the front desk, where the concierge looked up, shifting uncomfortably as she approached.

“Can you open the door?” she demanded, her voice sharp with exhaustion and irritation.

The concierge frowned apologetically. “I’m sorry, miss, but Mr. Norris" he hesitated, glancing up toward the smirking man in the window— “he’s requested that your access be restricted. I can’t let you in without his permission.”

Her fists clench at her sides, and she looks back up at him, glaring. He was still leaning against the window, arms folded, watching her with that smug, insufferable grin. She was just about ready to give him a piece of her mind when he called down, his voice lazy and laced with amusement.

“You know,” Lando said, “there’s a way you could get in. Just gotta say the magic word.”

She narrowed her eyes, arms crossing as she stared up at him. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Oh, come on.” He shrugged, feigning innocence. “A little begging never hurt anyone.” He grinned, tilting his head mockingly. “Or are you too proud? Red Bull’s Princess can’t say please?”

She bit back a retort, anger simmering under her skin. But the day had worn her down, and the idea of spending the night locked out was even worse than giving him what he wanted. She let out a sigh, glaring at him with a look that could kill.

“Please,” she said, voice strained, her jaw clenched tightly.

He cupped a hand to his ear, grinning wider. “Didn’t quite hear that.”

She let out a frustrated growl, swallowing her pride as she raised her voice, forcing herself to repeat it. “I said, please,” she grit out, hating every second.

But Lando only shook his head, laughing softly to himself. “Not quite enough, darling. You’re going to have to try a little harder than that.”

Her eyes narrowed, fury blazing in her gaze as she glanced around, making sure no one else beside the concierge was listening before she took a deep breath. She fixed him with a look, voice dropping lower, softer. “Please… let me in.”

For a moment, he just watched her, savouring every word, every hint of frustration in her eyes. And then, finally, he relented, nodding to the concierge with a satisfied smirk.

The door unlocks, and she strode in, tossing one last glare up toward him as she headed up to their apartment, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten in the wake of her frustration.

When she reached the door, he was waiting there, arms crossed as he leaned against the frame, still looking far too amused for her liking. She stormed past him, but he caught her wrist, stopping her just before she could slip away.

“Glad to see you can be reasonable,” he murmured, his voice low, laced with amusement as he pulled her closer.

She rolled her eyes, tugging her hand free, but he didn't let her go, his grip firm, challenging her as he leaned in close, his breath warm against her skin. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Don’t push it,” she muttered, but there was a hint of a smirk on her lips, her irritation melting into something warmer as he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her against him.

“Oh, I plan to,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple, savouring the way her resistance softens, just a little, under his touch.

Lando was out at the bar with Max, Charles and Oscar, a half-empty glass in his hand, when his phone buzzed on the table. Glancing down, he noticed it was his bank calling. He frowned, picking it up with a raised eyebrow.

“Hello?”

“Hi, sir, this is a courtesy call from Credit Mutuel. We just wanted to confirm a recent transaction—3,600 Euros from Versace? We wanted to make sure it was authorised.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, immediately picturing her wandering through the store, swiping his card without a second thought. Of course, she would do that.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he said, trying to hide his amusement. “Go ahead and approve it.”

He ended the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket, just as his friends gave him questioning looks. Charles leaned in, a grin already spreading across his face. “3.6K at Versace? Who’s racking up that kind of charge?”

He shrugged, smirking as he picked up his drink. “My girl. Guess she decided to go shopping.”

They exchanged looks, half-amused, half-incredulous. Max whistled low, shaking his head. “You’ve gotta be kidding. She’s really that bold?”

“Bold?” Oscar chimed in with a laugh. “She’s insane. You really need to put a stop to that.”

He just raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “What, and miss out on all the fun?”

“Man, she’s gonna drain you dry,” Oscar said, shaking his head. “You need to cut her off.”

He took another sip of his drink, the thought not even crossing his mind. “Nah. She’s my type of crazy.”

They all looked at him like he’d lost his mind, but he didn't care. She kept him on his toes, always a little unpredictable, a little wild—and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’re out of your mind, man,” Max said, chuckling. “No one’s worth that kind of chaos.”

“She’s your teammate, put respect on her name.” Lando quipped, his voice light but a slight bit of truth to it.

“Teammate or not. Kelly spent 3k in Versace? I'm asking her dad to pay me back.”

He just laughed, his gaze drifting toward the door as if he half expected her to show up, Versace bags in hand and that signature defiant look on her face. “Eh this is what keeps it interesting.”

Hope you bought something nice for me to rip off tonight x

The Singapore night lights gleam across the track as the roar of the crowd echoed through the air. Lando managed to bring the car to first place. It was a win that put him further ahead in the World Drivers' Championship—closer to clinching the title that both she and him were battling for. She’d just come in third, and he knew she’d be furious about the gap widening, about him taking both the sprint and the race.

He was basking in his victory, the top step of the podium all his, the adrenaline still coursing through him, as he turned to celebrate with the other two drivers on the podium. But he couldn't ignore the tension in the air. She was standing just a few feet away, third place still sitting uncomfortably on her shoulders, the gap between them widening with each race.

Her jaw tightened as she grabbed a bottle of champagne, shaking it quickly in her hand, she slammed it on the top step of his podium, his signature celebration. And she watched.

She watched as it hit his trophy, knocking it from the podium. The silver gleamed for a split second before it crashed to the ground, the base shattering in a shower of sparkling fragments.

She stood there, blinking for a moment, watching as the trophy’s broken pieces settled at their feet, her champagne bottle still in hand, the remnants of the cork still floating in the air like confetti. Slowly, she turned her eyes to him, that familiar, defiant glint sparking in her gaze.

“Whoops?” she said, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as if she couldn’t care less about the broken trophy—or the effect it’s had on him.

He stood there for a moment, shock flashing across his face. But it was quickly replaced with a grin. He chuckled, shaking his head, his eyes never leaving hers.

Without thinking twice, he stepped off his podium, the world blurring around him as he strides over to her. Her eyes widened in surprise as he reached out, his hand slipping under her jaw, tilting her face up to his. For a heartbeat, the noise of the crowd faded, the lights dimmed, and it was just the two of them locked in a silent battle of wills.

Then, before she could react, he pulled her in, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that was both possessive and challenging, a reminder of the victory that was still fresh on his lips. She was stiff at first, her fists clenching by her sides, every bit of her resistance radiating through her. But then, just as he was about to pull away, her grip relaxed. She let out a shaky breath against his lips, and suddenly she was kissing him back, just as fierce, just as unapologetic.

The world erupted around them in a chaotic mix of cheers and gasps, but they were lost in the heat between them. Charles, grinning like he was witnessing the best drama of the year, stepped forward with his bottle and sprayed them both, champagne splashing across their faces, soaking their race suits.

They broke apart, gasping for air, champagne dripping down their faces, but neither of them stepped back. He was grinning, that familiar arrogant smirk, knowing he had pushed her, made her break her carefully guarded composure right in front of everyone.

“You’re still behind, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “Better step it up.”

She narrowed her eyes, her lips twisting into a smirk of her own. “Keep pushing your luck,” she replied, voice dripping with challenge. “I’ll catch you sooner than you think.”

He let out a quiet laugh, raising his champagne bottle in a mock toast. “Looking forward to it.”

She was standing in front of the press, still in her race suit, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as the interviewer approached her, mic in hand. The buzz in the room was all too familiar—she’d been the talk of the circuit all season, and tonight, after the “accidental” destruction of his trophy, they were all eager to get her take on it.

“So,” the interviewer started, grinning as he raised an eyebrow, “quite the, uh, performance on the podium. How are you feeling about, well… breaking Lando’s trophy?”

She shrugged, her expression as cool and collected as ever. “Not my trophy, not my problem,” she replied, smirking as a few people in the crowd let out quiet chuckles.

The interviewer laughed, but he was clearly fishing for more. “Rumour has it that he wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. Are you worried there might be… consequences?”

Her smirk widens, and there was a dangerous glint in her eyes as she leaned just a bit closer to the mic. “Oh, it’s fine. I’ll just get punished at home,” she said, her voice dropping to a playful whisper as she glanced directly at the camera. “If you get what I mean.”

The reaction was immediate—the interviewer’s eyes widened, the crowd let out a collective gasp, and the director frantically signalled for the camera to cut the feed. But before they manage to turn it off, her laugh echoed through the speakers, rich and unapologetic, leaving the whole room buzzing with her brazen, unfiltered confidence.

As the screen went black, she tossed the mic back to the interviewer with a wink, giving the camera one last look before she strutted off, knowing she’d left them with more questions than answers—and loving every second of it.

the end.

909 notes · View notes

giuseppe-yuki · 14 days ago

Note

Imagine Kimi going missing and everyone from Mercedes going to try and find him to eventually find him in the sun laying curled up with his tiger girlfriend laying on her and cuddling her tail wrapped around him

omg that is such a canon thing for kimi to do!

not-so-small blurb below:

picture credits from pinterest :)

kimi antonelli x tiger!shapeshifter reader + cameos of other drivers and their shapeshifter!gfs

w.c.: 2.9k

t-minus 60 minutes

”what do you mean you lost him? go find him!“ toto exclaims, with a dismissive wave to pedro, kimi‘s engineer. “the meeting is one hour, and i expect to see kimi to be sat in front of me at exactly when it starts so we can discuss some important plans.”

toto turns his attention back to his “pet” wolf, who continues to curl in figure eights around toto’s legs protectively and blinks her sparkling eyes at pedro, as if she was amused at his evident distress.

with a gulp, pedro nervously leaves the room, leaving toto in his office, gently petting his purring wolf, and heads to the merc garage.

“well, have you tried texting him?” an engineer suggests helpfully, watching pedro pace around the garage.

pedro was basically cooked if kimi didn‘t show up for toto’s meeting, as he was put in charge of watching over the young mercedes driver after an incident that involved kimi crashing one of the mercedes golf carts when attempting to give his “pet” tiger a ride around the paddock. it wasn’t even pedro’s fault that he lost kimi- he had literally just stopped to talk to say hello to a fellow coworker, when kimi and his tiger just straight up disappeared!

”yes! of course i have,“ pedro exclaims, exasperated. “he‘s not responding!”

the engineer gives him a look of pity while she neatly packs up her papers and laptop in preparation for the meeting.

“well, i would probably check with the other teams, in case they saw kimi after he disappeared,” she says, hefting her mercedes-branded backpack onto her shoulder. “good luck!”

with a groan, pedro packs up his things and beelines his way towards the closest garage- redbull.

“give that back!” kimi just about screams, causing a few engineers walking out from the redbull motorhome to look over in concern.

grinning, you sprint away down the sparsely populated paddock, clutching the cookie that kimi stole from hospitality in your jaws. your tail flicks mischievously behind you, as if taunting your boyfriend. when you reach an acceptable distance away from him, you turn around towards kimi and purposely swallow the cookie whole.

kimi stops in his tracks, eyes wide. you just ate the cookie that he stole, fair and square.

“how dare you!” he explodes, charging towards you. “i’m gonna catch you and then i’m gonna shave off all your fur- not even ollie can save you now!“

you laugh internally. you both knew full well kimi didn’t have the guts to do that, but you humor him. with a soft growl, you scamper away from him, claws scraping against the concrete because of how fast you turn on your heels.

kimi bolts after you with surprising speed.

t-minus 50 minutes

when pedro scoots his way towards the redbull garage, white team kit clashing with the tell-tale navy blue of the redbull engineers, he tries his hardest to look inconspicuous. it doesn’t work, of course, the silver three-pointed star sewed on his t-shirt immediately giving him away.

“hey!” a redbull strategist shouts when she spots pedro, “you aren’t supposed to be here!” narrowing her eyes, she sends him a suspicious look. “i hope you haven't come here to steal our strategies-” she lifts up a shiny wrench that she seemed to have pulled out of nowhere- “i have a weapon and i’m not afraid to use it!”

pedro quickly hefts his hands up in surrender, signaling that he means no harm.

“woahwoahwoah!” he exclaims, trying to disperse the situation. “no! not at all! i’m- i’m just trying to find kimi! have you seen him?” the woman’s face softens immediately.

“oh,” she remarks, placing down the wrench on a side table. “erm, not really.”

she gestures further into the garage.

“you might want to ask max though- maybe he’s seen kimi?” pedro gives the strategist a light thank-you, one for not attempting to kill him, and two for the slightly helpful tip, before scooting further into redbull’s garage.

after wedging himself through a group of rather shocked-looking redbull engineers playing cards on the floor of the garage, he comes to a stop in front of max.

max doesn’t notice him at first, more focused on cutting up a piece of fish for a pampered-looking “pet” ragdoll cat next to him. it isn’t until the cat meows softly and paws at his arm does he look up to find pedro standing there awkwardly.

he raises an eyebrow and sends nods towards pedro to acknowledge his presence, but continues to focus his attention on cutting the raw fish into perfect squares with the precision of a surgeon while periodically stopping to feed the cat a piece.

“hi max…” pedro says nervously, “er, so i was told you might know where kimi is? i need to find him in like, half an hour for something really important.”

max thinks for a bit, before shaking his head no.

“i have no idea,” max says, at the same time one of the engineers playing cards notes, “i saw him with his tiger in the paddock like ten minutes ago!” pedro whips around, profusely thanking the engineer, before bolting out of the garage.

your claws scrape roughly on the concrete ground of the paddock as you bolt towards garages. kimi yells behind you, shaking his fist in the air as if he was one of those old grandpas in the movies you watched so often together at home. luckily for you, the walkway leading to the garages had barely any people, like the paddock, so you didn’t have a chance to run into (and accidentally run over) any poor team employees like last time you ran around the paddock with kimi.

as you sprint down the pit lane, you approach your final destination- the ferrari garage. an employee chats up charles near the front of the garages, who was clutching a hedgehog close to his fireproofs. the employee, on the other hand carried a giant bucket of water, most likely for polishing the front of the garage, judging by the squeegee that he animated swings around as he talks to the charles.

an idea pops into your head.

the ferrari driver’s eyes grow wide when he sees you approaching, and he stumbles back a few steps, but you’re not here to hurt him. gingerly, you snatch the bucket with water from the employee and haul it straight at kimi, who was gaining on you with a speed like max in brazil 2024.

the bucket narrowly avoids his head, but the water splashes on him dead center. he immediately starts screeching, and you feel just a little bit bad, but then, you remember that he threatened to shave off all your fur, so you were basically even.

the ferrari employees and charles gape at you in shock. next to you, you hear a honking laugh that could only belong to daniel ricciardo, who points to a soaking wet kimi as he walks past the scene with his girlfriend in tow.

t-minus 40 minutes

pedro is exhausted by the time he arrives at the paddock all the way from the red bull motorhomes. everyone seemed to forget that he wasn’t a built f1 driver or an energetic 18 year old who could run back and forth without passing out from exhaustion. even if the walk from the garages was brisk, perhaps five minutes, pedro was huffing and puffing, especially with his backpack chalk full with kimi’s racing data.

where the hell was kimi???

honestly, thinking about it, it was amazing how he managed to lose a well-known star and a giant tiger in the paddock.

pedro snoops around the hospitalities along the paddock for around 10 minutes (almost getting security called on him by aston martin and stake kick sauber for looking suspicious) before collapsing onto a bench by vcarb’s hospitality. he had half a mind to give up right this moment. a slight yelling session by toto for “losing kimi” wouldn’t be so bad right?

just then, a dampened bang sounds from behind a mysterious closed door behind him. the door creaks the slightest, but stays closed.

pedro’s mind immediately shoots back to kimi. maybe he was behind that door! yes, it was a vcarb building but kimi always seemed to get himself in weird situations, so it wasn’t a far cry.

kimi’s engineer yanks the door open.

what he sees is definitely not kimi. instead, he sees none other than daniel ricciardo making out with his girlfriend in what looks to be a janitor’s closet on the side of the vcarb motorhome.

hurriedly, pedro tries to shut the door to preserve whatever shred of dignity he has left from witnessing this rather scandalizing moment, but before he can, the driver seems to take notice.

he pulls away from his girlfriend, who turns quite red, and flashes his signature grin at pedro.

“hiya, mate! how can i help you?” he asks, as if pedro did not just interrupt his makeout session in a damp closet.

“s-s-sorry!!” pedro manages to utter out, face as red as daniel’s girlfriend. “i thought- you were.. um, kimi…? er, yeah, i think i’ll go, yeah, sorry again!”

daniel, still concerningly unbothered, nods understandingly.

“no problem, really. i saw him around the ferrari motorhome with his ‘tiger,’ so if you’re looking for him, you can check there!”

pedro nods quickly, wanting to get out of the situation as fast as possible, but grateful for the help.

he thanks daniel profusely, but before he can leave, daniel points to the wide-open janitor’s door, a mischievous grin splitting his face.

“i’d appreciate it if you’d shut that for us again, thanks!”

“i’m sure she’s sorry- look at her sad cat eyes!” ollie says to your boyfriend, patting his shoulder.

you manage a sad whine towards your boyfriend that you surely do not mean.

kimi now sits, a little less sopping wet, wrapped a ferrari blanket that a kind engineer provided, on a stack of tyres in the ferrari motorhome. his usually fluffy brown curls stick slightly flat to his forehead.

he still pouts, back towards your imposing figure sat on the floor of the ferrari garage.

“yeah, right,” he snorts, “she started the whole thing by stealing my cookie first!”

ollie adjusts his “bear cub” in his arms before sitting down next to kimi on the tyres.

“oh, come on, don’t be like that, kimi! go to the shops and like, share an ice cream or something- that always helps when i’m feeling a little bit disgruntled with my girlfriend!”

ollie’s bear cub nibbles softly on kimi’s pant leg in agreement.

kimi spares you a glance, to which you respond by giving him a lick with your rough tongue as a ‘sorry-for-taking-a-water-bucket-and-almost-killing-you-and-soaking-your-entire-body-with-freezing-water’ type of apology.

he seems to take it, because he gives you a soft kiss on your head and points out to the exit of the garage.

“lead the way, then, baby,” he says.

the walk there is pretty light- it’s only past the garages, through the paddock, and to the shops. you spot the ice cream parlor, that display the words, ‘pit stop ice cream parlor’ lights in shiny letters with a big fat scoop of ice cream next to it. now, you were getting a little hungry. you take off into towards the half-crowded shop. unfortunately, you have to skid to a stop because carlos sainz walks by with his “meerkat” on his shoulder, holding a board that is suspiciously in the shape of fred vasseur, but you continue bounding towards the shop after they pass. what flavor should you get?

t-minus 20 minutes

from mercedes, to redbull, to the paddock, and now all the way back to ferrari garages? kimi was going to be the death of him, pedro swears. how has this boy even managed to travel this quickly, he would never understand.

once again, he finds himself awkwardly standing in front of a garage that certainly did not belong to his team. pedro slowly shuffles forward towards the entrance, accidentally soaking half of his shoe in a rather random puddle of water on the floor in the process.

to his relief, he sees ollie peep his head from the side of the garage with his “bear cub” clinging to the side of his pant leg. since he was part of prema, ollie was well-versed in kimi’s wild acts of mischief on the grid, which meant he ought to be helpful in his quest to find kimi.

ollie smiles at pedro, giving him a friendly wave.

“hi pedro!” he chirps. “what are you doing here?”

“hello to you too, ollie,” pedro says, nodding in acknowledgement, “and to your girlfriend as well!” he exhales one big breath before continuing. “i was just looking for kimi- we have a meeting in like, less than 20 minutes!”

ollie’s bear cub blinks her little brown eyes at pedro and waves one her stubby arms back towards the paddock.

“yeah,” ollie says, scratching his head. “like she said- i might have told ollie to go all the way back towards the paddock, to the shops, to get some ice cream…?”

he gives pedro a sympathetic look, seeing how kimi’s engineer just deflates after hearing he has to walk all the way back towards the paddock to find kimi.

“thanks, ollie- i guess,” pedro says, hefting his heavy backpack closer to him, and getting ready to trek back towards the paddock.

however, when he turns around, he just about screams. pedro comes face to face with none other than fred vasseur himself. he almost instinctively swings a punch straight at fred’s face, but he realizes it is made out of…cardboard?

carlos sainz’s amused face peeks out from behind the cutout of the ferrari team principal, along with a chittering meerkat.

“ha! got you!” he cackles, his “meerkat” mirroring him.

pedro groans. when he found kimi, he was going to force kimi pay him for all the emotional turmoil he experienced during this absolutely ridiculous timed hunt.

you purr in content as kimi sets down a giant bowl of strawberry ice cream that you take a giant lick of right away. he himself take a bite of his own stracciatella ice cream. you both eat in comfortable silence. ollie was right, you suppose, cause the love of ice cream really did bring you both together.

kimi even lets you take a nibble of his stracciatella ice cream, (a tiny nibble, as large doses of chocolate are lethal to tigers) which he never does, usually.

the sun shines brightly above you both, allowing kimi’s curls to fluff back up into its regular state as you both bathe in the warm light, full from the ice cream.

“i’m kind of sleepy,” kimi says, and you can’t help but feel the same.

you're not quite sure how you end up on the open top floor of the merc motorhome, laying on one of the sun chairs with kimi. you faintly remember dragging kimi sleepily back towards the paddock by his shirt…up the stairs…? you do know, however, how content you feel right now. with full bellies and the warm sun wrapping like a soft blanket around the two of you, it feel so nice. kimi is already knocked out, curled in your warm fur. he clutches to your tail in his arms as if it’s a stuffed animal. you stretch your paws, and your eyes slowly flutter shut.

t-minus 10 minutes

with ten minutes left until the meeting, pedro can’t help but frantically run around the shops and paddock area to look for kimi. he checks just about everywhere- gift shops, food stalls, ice cream shops, but they all seem devoid of a certain mercedes driver.

he almost gives up, like he did half and hour ago at nearly the same spot by the vcarb building. but, that’s when he sees it, on the glittering roof of the mercedes building. the giant form of a tiger and-bingo- andrea kimi antonelli. you can call him the flash the way he sprints up the two flights of stair onto the top floor of the mercedes building.

“tell kimi to get up right now!” kimi’s engineer shouts, nearly deafening your sensitive ears. kimi still naps on through pedro’s shouting, his entire body still layed on top of your fur. unamused, you gingerly untuck one of your paws from underneath kimi to try and bat pedro away. couldn’t he see your boyfriend was sleeping so peacefully?

he has the audacity to brush your paw away. “no!” he yells angrily. “you do not know what i just went through! i ran in legitimate circles around the entirety of the property, got caught in a weird situation with daniel ricciardo, soaked my entire shoe in this stupid ass puddle, and then got jumpscared by carlos sainz and his stupid poster! i am not about to be yelled at by toto!” without another word, he takes his water bottle out of his merc backpack and uncaps it. and, for the second time in the span of half an hour, your boyfriend is soaked in freezing water.

t-minus 1 minute

with one minute left to spare, pedro leds a disgruntled half-wet kimi into toto’s full meeting room. you scamper in next to kimi as inconspicuous as you can, which is kind of hard considering you were a tiger, after all. toto clears his throat, looking at your boyfriend’s appearance weirdly.

“can someone please tell me why my driver is sopping wet, please?”

a/n: i hope the concept and the way i worded it isn't too confusing 😥

#anais talks🎙#💬#kimi antonelli x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x female reader

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absolutebl · 5 months ago

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This Week in BL - In Which None of You Should be Surprised by a MAJOR Upset in the Standings

Sorry this is so late. I had a pretty epic series of delays landing me at NRT for like 18 hours or something ridiculous. To be fair there are much worse airports to be stranded at.

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

June 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Rebound (Weds Gaga) ep 1 of 12 - Fuck all ya'all if you thought I had taste. MeenPing are topping this damn list because... have you any idea how LONG I have been waiting for a real sports centered BL starring at least one boy who actually played the flipping sport? My whole damn life. You ready for me to go into euphoric splooges all over your screens? I don't think you are. SUFFER! And now some splooging:

It’s off to a great start. Thank you, Rebound, for being exactly what I wanted. By which I mean Meen has his shirt off literally in the first two minutes of the show. Also it’s a bit of a childhood sweethearts reunion romance. There’s nothing wrong with this beginning. Fantastic. For a change, I even enjoy the intro music. Golf is directing MeenPing this time, so maybe something magical will happen. Frank is aging so pretty!!! How nice for all of us. Even the bb play is good. It’s a proper sports BL. I’m so damn happy right now.

Wandee Goodday (Sat YT) ep 9 of 12 - I’m so tired of Ter, but everything else was lovely. Also they are SUCH boyfriends.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 3 of 12 - They are so cute in these roles. I don’t know why, I just like their vibe better here than in the previous show. (And I really enjoyed Big Dragon at the start.) This show is a lot more classic romance and kind of pat because of that. I do hope the ingénue character gets some kind of additional development and talent. But even if it stays mundane, these two have the chemistry to carry it. So I suspect I’ll keep enjoying it regardless. I am mildly intrigued by the spice of the PNR element, so I hope they run with that a bit more. I suspect they will have to, to extend the plot for 12 eps.

My Stand-In (Fri iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - Ah Ming... famous last words. This one just makes me sigh a lot and whimper sadly. I don’t know where they’re going with this plot or how they’re gonna resolve it. Joe finally being the asshole Ming deserves is a lot of fun though (double entendre intended). I’m scared but it did make me cry... a lot. (That's fine, I'm a sap.)

Imma say this because no one else has. Wardrobe is unilaterally terrible in this show. I mean Thailand is notoriously bad in general but this show, nash.

We Are Cute (Weds iQIYI) ep 13 of 16 - They are so fucking adorable. And so flirty! Also a crying kiss? My favorite! Chain’s little moment of "Cupid shoot thyself" was epic. ("Physician heal thyself" but for the BL world?) Honestly, I could watch a whole show about these two...

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 1 of 12 - How does Gun still look like he’s just out of high school? Madness. Does the set for the print shop that he’s working in at the beginning remind anybody else of Mork’s dad’s place in ‘Cause He’s My Boy? I swear GMMTV has about 3 sets they rotate through.

To be brutally honest, I was not looking forward to the show at all. No idea why. OffGun aren’t my most favorite OG pair, but I respect them for their longevity, optics, acting shops, and enduring brand. Maybe I just needed more of a gap from Cooking Crush?

Whatever, I was absolutely riveted by this first episode. I’m enjoying The Trainee a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 4 of 12 - This version did the "clear up of the inciting miscommunication" in such a sweet achey way. Frankly that "ache of first love" really plays to G4's strengths as a pair. This was a good ep and I’m now starting to enjoy this one for its own sake and get some distance from the JBL version. It's just there is A LOT of good stuff coming out of Thailand right now.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - I was inspired to write a Shakespearean style sonnet in this week's trash watch. Mame seems to believe that no character can have depth without suffering. And I found this episode both boring and rushed at the same time. Trash watch here. (This week's trash watch also VERY delayed.)

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 12 - It’s eminently missable... so I missed it this week in order to get this weekly update out. Next week will be a two in one.

Only Boo! (Sun YT) ep 12fin - Okay, that’s it, I guess?

Summary:

An idol romance about a sunshine boy who dances good and wants to be a star and a reserved food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks, grumpy/sunshine pair who fall in love but, of course, to be an idol baby boy can't date. It wasn’t particularly bad, it wasn’t particularly good either. 7/10

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) Ep 1 of 10 - A new series adaptation of beloved yaoi I Hear the Sunspot (first adaptation was feature film Silhouette of Your Voice 2017).

I expected the soundscapes in this one to be fantastic, but I didn’t expect the filming to be something special too. But it really is. I’m not gonna lie, I'm nervous about this show because I love the manga and was disappointed by the film, but we were off to a really good start. First names already? So cute. I love them.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Shy awkward Taishin goes to a Tokyo university in order to reunite with Takara, a stranger who consoled him over the loss of a parrot the year prior. He finally gets a chance to express his gratitude but is given the cold shoulder. (My thoughts this weekend's round up)

I can't believe Japan is holding it down for the non Thai BL. I mean to say.... JAPAN!!! What alt reality are we living in? It being Japan, I'm scared of the ending.

It's airing but...

Blue Boys is still going on and I'm still enjoying it (despite the cheating) but I don't know when it drops or where it's going, so I will report in at the end. When they tell me it's ended.

The Last Time (Thai Fri YT?) - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Can't find it.

OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ???) 10 eps - I've put the search on hold for and y'all can let me know if it's worth tracking down once it ends?

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer released to Korean theaters 5/25. HoTae & DongHee, side couple from Unintentional Love Story are back! Same actors, same character names. I love them. Devastated this hasn't had international distribution. I demand you tell me the moment you find it!

Next Week Looks Like This:

NO IMG - we half way through this week already - sorry.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

July Releases to Come

7/5 This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Thai iQIYI) - trailer here, The PittBabe team behind a new restaurant set BL full of hidden agendas and starring my new favorites SailubPon. Delightful!

7/10 Century of Love (Thai Gaga) 10 eps - trailer here, DaouOffroad are back, this time as fated mates in a quasi historical paranormal moment. San has spent many lifetimes waiting for his lost beloved, to reincarnate from her death a century ago. But if he fails to find her within this century's time window, he will succumb to a tragic death. And this time she's a boy. Very much Director Who Buys Me Dinner meets First Love Again, hopefully better than both. I love this pair and think they can handle the premise, it's whether the storytelling is up to the challenge. I'm curious to see but I have reservations.

7/26 4 Minutes (Thai Netflix or iQIYI?) - Great is a university student from Faculty of Business and the son of a wealthy business owner. Out of the blue, he gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future.

7/29 Battle of the Writers (Thai ????) - trailer here, TutorYim return and while I adore them, I really hope this is better than Middleman's Love. Won't be hard. However: that premise! Ugh. Something something authors fighting - save me. Why don't writers understand that nothing is more boring than writers?

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Defining @heretherebedork 's favorite endearment of "tiny idiot."

I love him. I also love what a class act they both were about this turn down. Thailand shows Korea how to handle a love triangle by NOT HAVING ONE.

Both We Are.

We stand a lap sit on this blog, but I think this is my first lap spin! I adored it! (Sunset X Vibes)

It's fun to watch them follow the original narrative but with these cute little Thai twists. Sometimes these are shifted for language reasons, sometimes for cultural, and sometimes I think just to draw a clear distinction from the JBL. I'm not mad about any of it. (My Love Mix Up)

Not just for you, honey. Truer words were never spoken. Yak is the biggest green flag ever to walk BL's verdant earth.

Linguistic corner!

I love this way of putting the translation. Usually, in Thai, the phrase used means "he's my happiness" (sounds like: kwamsook). To use sabai is different. Sabai more ubiquitous (sabai is one of the most commonly used phrases in Thailand) but also so different from the usual phrase we hear in ThBL at this moment. Thus, this execution is special, particularly from a doctor. I'm not quite sure how to put it but sabai can also be translated as feeling well, as in, not ill. So there is a way of looking at Wandee saying Yak is both his peace of mind and good for his health and well being.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

There's these tricks, remember.

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seat-safety-switch · 10 days ago

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"The '70s are coming back," explained the very patient sales lady at the Hudson Bay furniture department the other day. I was inquiring about a weird-looking brown sofa that some unscrupulous garbage-picker had clearly dumped in the middle of their showroom. Imagine my surprise when, rather than being grateful to see me haul it away and put it into my living room (I need new things to stack carburetors on,) she asked me for eight thousand dollars instead.

This is exactly why I don't shop at the downtown Bay very often. Too bougie, with all those lawyers, attorneys, barristers, and legal practitioners coming in there on their lunch breaks and buying seven sets of brand new underwear for the coming week. On the way home, though, I had plenty of time in the mandatory traffic jam (behind two Maybachs and an Aston) to think about what she had said. Could it possibly be true that my smoking, heaving, late-70s piece of shit Plymouth Volare, the very same vehicle that was mostly under my feet at this exact moment, be worth more than I paid for it?

To answer this question, I found an appraiser in the phone book. When I was a kid, I thought an "appraiser" was like the weird little dude who follows behind the bully in teen comedies, backing up everything they say. In actual fact, that is called a "hype man," and I recommend you not hire one of those to appraise your car. Appraiser Dave (or David, if you're friends) told me that he could do an appraisal of my car in his driveway in just minutes. At last, I would know what kind of asset base I had been flinging into corners and onto golf courses at reckless land speeds this whole time.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he spat, and demanded the payment immediately. Luckily for me, at that exact moment, a squirrel shook out of its home in the air cleaner and ran up his shirt sleeve. I think it was Ted, but it might have been his common-law wife, Tedina.

His or her tragic sacrifice was not made in vain, as in the ensuing distraction I was able to escape the neighbourhood without Appraiser Dave seeing my license plate. It helps that I couldn't shut the engine off, because it diesels really bad when you do that, and it eats batteries whenever it sits for more than ten minutes. Cheaper to just let it run 24/7 and top up the gas every morning. I need to count every penny: I'm saving up for a couch.

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p1zzaparty · 13 days ago

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a very small, tiny, itty bitty detail i love to see in other peoples drawings of the Losers, especially as adults or young adults even, is what kind of fashion is given to them

like its almost a given that everyones Richie has some weird collection of shitty t-shirts with some nerd thing attached to it. Or brightly colored button ups with polka dots and stripes.

Eddie seems to stump everyone because i've seen him from everything to sweaters, to expensive formal wear, to neon rainbow tank tops. Personally i always saw that guy, with his bright pink and blue polo shirts and simple plain tees, as just a mixed bag of beans. He still dresses like mommy picked out clothes that she thinks would look super handsome on him, with his little stiff gelled combed hair to match. But he rarely, probably has anything that has actual words or icons on his shirts. Maybe a national park sweater here and there, that guy probably loooves gift shops. I think now with his big boy money he'll stray away from his usual get up, splurge a little, buy something branded, something new and expensive. Also something stupid, like shoes that are way too expensive. He's a fake sneakerhead, only really investing in brands he THINKS are cool or trendy. Not that he cares too much about being trendy and cool, like Richie probably does. Just...gets an ear worm sometimes, whispering to him about how they aren't that bad looking, and that he's buying it for himself, not because some jackass on tv wore them. Maybe a shiny new watch too, and maybe even a band shirt for pj-only purposes. Otherwise he's pretty strict on his expenses and just buys what fits and works as a shirt, pants, etc. Comfort over design, squarish in appearance, boxy and casually professional. I don't see him wearing a suit outside of work or waltzing into his nearest cheap café with a confident blazer and matching ironed pants. I doubt that guy even owns an iron, probably forgot to even buy one after mummy-kins passed. Even after she screeched and raved about it too, and he just ignored her tangents, assuming it wasn't even that important, all while his shirts became crinklier and sadder much like him. Sometimes i see people make him almost tooooo strict and formal and buttoned up, to y'know match Richies more casual and stoner-dork like style that's sometimes assigned to him. But Eddie, to me, is always a business casual kinda guy. Like, paid business trip to a golf course casual. Throwing on what's comfortable, giving a healthy amount of thought to what people might think of you. You will NOT find this man dressed to the nines at home, but he does, in fact, have a little pocket protector on his stupid shirt. With a pen or pencil thrown in just to make use of it, an old candy wrapper he forgot about and WILL get washed with it, or a few crumbs from his earlier microwaved breakfast burrito he had to scarf down before Myra had something to say about its ""toxic"" ingredients.

His clothes probably vary in size by a very small margin. Knowing a ball park guess of his pants and shirt sizes, always forgetting to add in it going through the washer, or how a size 30 is a size 31 in Canada or whatever. Probably because he was so used to mummy buying everything for him, even into his early 20s in college. Now he's free from her suffocating grasp, he still copies her sense of fashion and rarely does anything outlandish or fashionable. I think later down the line, in the cannon he survives and goes off to live a happily ever after with Richie, that he'd begin to explore a bit more. Getting that sugar baby money helps, and he'd have to try and buck up with Richie, trying to copy him slightly in terms of fashion.

He's a bland man Sarah, a BLAND man!

#i loooove thinking about stupid little details about them #i feel like 90s eddie and book eddie had more of aaa #sense #more distinguishable style even #modest and dolled up #but 2019 eddie is bland in a loveable way #i love him so fucking much GOD #hes so painfully awkward at being alive and breathing #i want to lock him in a petri dish and study him under a microscope #i could talk about this mans brain for hours #next long post is just me going on about their toothpaste brands #it #rambling #it stephen king #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #it chapter 2 #it 2019

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marketing2011 · 3 months ago

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

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A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 11 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley has a surprise of his own. And while you're already not feeling well, he hates to bring home some bad news for you.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst, and swearing

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

When you heard Bradley pull the Bronco back into the driveway, it was well past noon, and you had finally managed to get up and get dressed for the day. The trip to Maryland had you exhausted, both mentally and physically. You felt like you could sleep for the rest of the day as you rubbed your eyes behind your glasses.

Tramp ran for the front door when he heard Bradley coming inside. "I'm glad you're back, Roo. He needs to go out for a walk," you called from the kitchen where you were making yourself some fresh coffee. "Do you want some coffee?"

He came in wearing jeans and a tank with his Hawaiian shirt draped over one shoulder. And he had a hesitant grin on his face.

"Why are you wearing that?" you asked as you stirred cream into your coffee. "I thought you went golfing. Jake even texted me and told me you were doing an abysmal job, and that you lost six balls on the fifteenth fairway."

"Last time I ask Jake for a favor," Bradley muttered under his breath. He pulled the Hawaiian shirt away from his body, and you saw that his right bicep had plastic wrap around it, taped in place against his skin.

Your lips parted but no sound came out. You instinctively knew he had a tattoo on his arm that wasn't there this morning when you were in bed together, but you couldn't turn those thoughts into words. He took a step closer to you, and you met his eyes.

"What did you do?" you asked softly as your heart pounded.

Bradley held his arm out and flexed his bicep against the plastic wrap for you. You were looking at a brand new tattoo alright. On the inside of his bicep. A paper airplane nearly the size of your hand, with Baby Girl written across it in a pretty script.

Where your tattoo was a dainty, private ode to the love of your life, his was bigger, bolder, and out in the open for everyone to see.

"I hope you like it, Baby Girl, because it's not going anywhere."

"You didn't have to do that," you whispered, but you knew you were smiling now as you ran your fingers across the plastic.

Bradley pulled you against him so suddenly you squeaked.

"Never thought I'd fall in love. Never thought I'd settle down. Never thought I'd be with someone who makes everything better. I never thought I'd love someone or something enough to get it tattooed on myself, but here we are, Sweetheart."

You kissed him softly and whispered, "You must really love me. That's a big tattoo."

"I'm going to love you forever. And I want everyone to see it," he said, guiding you back against the island. When you opened your mouth to say something, he put his finger over your lips and shook his head. "Not your tattoo though. That one's just for me, right?"

His voice was so deep and raspy, and his finger was still on your lips. You had to squeeze your thighs together, you were so turned on. Of course he noticed right away and wedged his thigh in between your legs as he started to devour your lips.

You rocked your body against his leg and whimpered as Bradley started to undo his belt, but you pulled it through the loops and dropped it to the floor. Then you added his tank to the pile just before he dropped to the floor on his knees in front of you.

"This one is just for me to see," he told you as he eased your sweatpants down. You weren't even wearing any underwear which made him grin up at you before he kissed you all over your tattoo. Just as you were getting used to his mustache against your hip, he moved his mouth to start licking your pussy, and you let your fingers drag through his hair before gabbing on.

"You're really wet, Baby Girl," he remarked, licking it all up.

"You got a tattoo for me! Of course I'm wet!"

He muttered, "Now you know how I felt yesterday," before getting you off with his mouth.

While you were still enjoying the waves of your orgasm, Bradley was helping you step out of your sweatpants, and next thing you knew, he had you sitting on the very edge of the island. And he was fucking you with his jeans and underwear down around his knees with his shoes still on.

"That's so fucking hot," you mumbled when you looked at his arm. He slammed into you hard, and it felt like you were going to topple off the edge of the counter. "Bradley!" you screamed, wrapping your legs around him and digging your manicured nails into his back.

He moaned so loudly next to your ear as he fucked you harder. "I got you, Baby Girl."

You were still so sensitive from your orgasm that everything he was doing felt overwhelming. You dragged your fingernails down lower on his back, and he groaned your name with his face tipped toward the ceiling. But he was fucking you so hard and pulling you toward the edge of the counter at the same time.

"Bradley!" you screamed again, this time with a laugh.

"I told you I got you, Baby Girl." He did have a vice-like grip on your body with his left arm, but you still dug your nails in again as he railed you until you were screaming.

Bradley pulled himself out of your grasp, and you felt your nails dig along his back again as he was suddenly tipping you back against the island and pulled your shirt up.

"Just for me," he groaned as he stroked himself three times and came all over your tattoo. You watched his cum coat the skin along your belly, hip and pussy, covering nearly all of the ink.

As his cum dripped onto your thigh and the countertop, Bradley leaned down and reached for your face. "I love you. So much," he promised, kissing along your lips and cheeks as he stroked your jaw. "I was ready to tattoo myself with your name as soon as we met. I don't want you to think there's any other reason I got this today than the fact that I love you so much I want everyone to see it. Okay?"

"Okay, Roo," you told him as he rubbed your cheek with his nose. "You've never given me any reason to doubt you."

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

Bradley cleaned you up and carried you back to bed, because you told him you were still tired. But when he set you down in bed, you reached out and unwrapped his tattoo.

"I just want to touch it for real," you whispered with a grin, tracing the black outline of the paper airplane and then tracing the letters with your index finger. "I really like it. It looks like it belongs on you."

Bradley kissed you and tucked you in before taking Tramp out for a walk. They walked for five miles along the beach, and he texted Nat and Jake a photo of his tattoo.

Natasha Phoenix Trace: That looks permanent. Hope she never decides to leave your ass.

Jake Hangman Seresin: You owe me a drink, because I covered for you in the most believable way.

Bradley just sighed and tucked his phone away. Only forty eight more days until he was going to marry you. He wondered if you called Mav today or not. You were still so tired from being away, he figured you hadn't. After a moment of hesitation, Bradley decided to call Maverick on behalf of both of you.

"Bradley. What's up, kid?" he asked after one ring.

"Mav. I have a favor to ask of you. Actually, we have a favor to ask."

"What do you need?"

"What are you doing the day after Thanksgiving?" Bradley asked with a smile as Tramp pulled him up to the water's edge.

"Your bride-to-be invited us over for Thanksgiving dinner. Not doing anything the day after that I know of."

"Can you keep a secret?" Bradley asked, and his smile grew.

Mav paused for a beat. "This sounds a little suspicious."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, Bradley. I can keep a secret." He was starting to sound exasperated, and Bradley was trying not to laugh.

"It's apparently very easy to get ordained online. Feel like officiating my wedding?"

A longer pause. "Are you serious? Of course I will."

"Thanks, Mav. I appreciate this. I'll get you more details. But it's top secret for now."

When Bradley was finally heading back to the house, he was kind of sweaty, and his shirt was clinging uncomfortably to his back. He was hoping you were awake so he could tell you that he got something checked off of the wedding to-do list. And he was hungry and craving something homemade for dinner. He'd been eating cereal and oatmeal all week.

But you were still sound asleep, so he crept quietly into the master bathroom and peeled his shirt off. He checked in the mirror to see why his back was stinging from the sweat.

"Oh, shit." You had really dug your nails into his back earlier, and there were a few long marks that you had made going up and down his back. Your pretty manicure was actually lethal. He decided to just skip a shirt while he went in search of some food.

Pancakes. He could make you both some pancakes. But before he started on that task, he realized it was after 6:30 and you were still sleeping, so he went to check on you again. As he let his fingers trail across your face, he realized you felt warm. A palm to the forehead told him you had a fever. Your neck felt a little clammy when he touched you, and now he was pretty worried.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, repeating himself until you started to stir.

"What?" you groaned, rolling fully onto your back and looking up at him.

"Can you sit up? I want to take your temperature."

You just nodded and sat up with your eyes closed, and you let him take your temperature when he returned with the thermometer.

You looked exhausted, and you let Bradley rub your back while you waited. His tee shirt that you were wearing was all sweaty, and now you were practically falling asleep again.

"Almost 102. That's a pretty high fever," he told you, and you just nodded in agreement. Now Bradley felt kind of bad for working you over so hard in the kitchen earlier. You must have picked up some sort of bug while you were away. "You need to take the day off tomorrow. Let me get you some water and Tylenol."

You just kept going along with everything he said, which was so unlike you. When he offered to make you pancakes, you told him you weren't hungry. When he offered to make you tea, you agreed to have a mug along with a few crackers.

"You need to text Bickel," he told you as he climbed in bed next to you. "Tell him you won't be in tomorrow."

"Can you do it for me?" you asked, your voice so small as you nibbled on a cracker. "My head hurts."

He kissed your ear and reached across you to get your phone from the nightstand. After he texted your boss, he got up and plugged your phone in.

"I'm going to tell your parents you're not feeling well, and that they can contact me if they need something, okay?"

"Okay," you muttered, coughing a few times. Bradley was a little concerned that you might have the flu, but all you would tell him is that you were tired.

When you had finished your tea and crackers, Bradley watched you stand and steady yourself before you went into the bathroom. He got you a new shirt to change into, but you even needed his help with that. He stripped you down completely and stroked your tattoo once, and then he pulled the clean shirt over your head.

"Thanks," you mumbled. "Can you take Tramp out?"

"Baby Girl. I'm going to take care of everything. Get back in bed and relax."

He kissed your cheek as you burrowed into the blankets. Then he refilled your water, took Tramp out, made himself some pancakes, and cleaned the kitchen. When he came back to the bedroom, you were curled up reading on your phone.

"Bickel told me not to worry about anything," you told Bradley.

"See? I'll take care of everything here, and he can take care of all your stuff at work." Bradley took off his jeans and made sure his tattoo was covered before he got in bed.

When he snuggled up next to your side, you tried to squirm away. "I'm all sweaty and disgusting, Roo. Don't touch me. You're supposed to think I'm adorable if I'm going to be your wife."

"You are adorable," he informed you with a laugh. "But I think that's literally the opposite of how marriage is supposed to work, Baby Girl."

"I don't want to get you sick," you complained halfheartedly, now snuggling up against him.

"We already had sex a few times since you got back. I had my tongue down your throat. I think it's a little too late to be worried about me. Let's get some sleep."

"Love you, Roo," you mumbled, already half asleep on his shoulder.

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

You woke up briefly as the sun was peeking in through your bedroom curtains. You were freezing cold. You tried to sit up, but your head was pounding.

"Sweetheart, stay in bed. I'll bring you water and tylenol and some dry cereal."

"Okay, Roo," you managed to whisper, because now your throat was sore too.

Bradley delivered everything to your nightstand and then took your temperature. "Try to sleep. If you're not feeling better by this afternoon, we'll call your doctor."

You just nodded at him, and he kissed your forehead. "I'll be back as soon as I can get Mav to dismiss me."

You reached for Bradley's hand. "I forgot to call Mav yesterday!"

"Shh, just relax, Baby Girl. I called him," Bradley said with a grin. "We have our super secret wedding officiant."

You managed to smile up at him as you sank back into the pillows. "Thanks, Roo."

"Sleep. I love you."

So you dozed off and on for most of the day, only getting up to use the bathroom and get more to drink. You texted Bradley and told him you were fine, and that he shouldn't rush home. And then you picked Tramp up and took him back to bed with you.

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

It was not a good day. First of all, you really did a number on Bradley's back with your nails in the kitchen, and his skin was irritated. Second, there was no way Mav was going to dismiss him early today, because Bradley had a flight simulation scheduled for the afternoon, unbeknownst to him. And third, now Mav was looking at him like he was ready to apologize for something.

"What's wrong? Just tell me," Bradley grumbled before he headed for his simulation.

"Sorry, kid. I got deployment papers for you."

"Fuck!" Bradley took the envelope and tore into it. "When?"

"I'm not sure of the exact dates. But it's next month," Maverick told him gently. "If I could change the dates or send someone else, you know I would, Bradley."

Bradley would never, ever forgive himself if he couldn't marry you next month. He'd quit the navy. Get a civilian job. Anything. Anything except miss out on marrying you in forty seven days. His hands were shaking as he read over the information.

He needed to be in South Korea on November 5th. The special mission should last one to two weeks, depending on the weather requirements.

He looked up at Maverick. "Don't make any plans for that day I told you about. I'll be back in time, even if I have to fucking swim home."

Maverick nodded. "I actually believe you, that's the crazy part. I won't make any plans. And I'm already filling out the form to get ordained."

"Thanks," Bradley said, shaking his hand before he went for his simulation.

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

Not only would he not be getting home early, but Bradley had to text you and let you know he would be home late. He promised to bring you some soup, and he told you to rest until he got there.

"What's got you all pissed off?" Nat asked as they headed toward the locker rooms. Bradley reeked of jet fuel from earlier this morning, and he wanted to be able to climb in bed with you as soon as he got home.

"Got papers," he growled. "Next month."

"So did Bagman," Nat replied.

"Damn. I was hoping it would be me and you again," Bradley said, giving Nat a high five before she ducked into the ladies' room.

"Looks like it's me and you, Bagman. Deployment together," Bradley said when he started getting undressed at his locker.

Jake looked over at him as he stripped off his flight suit. "Who's going to look after Angel?"

Bradley had been so concerned about potentially missing his secret wedding, he hadn't even thought what it would mean to be deployed the same time as Jake.

"Shit," Bradley said, knowing full well that Jake would always have your back when he couldn't. "She'll have Nat and the guys. I'll talk to Bob and Fanboy tomorrow."

"Hey, Coyote! Payback!" Jake called, and both men poked their heads around from the next row of lockers.

"What's up?" Payback asked as he dried off from his shower.

Bradley kept undressing, as he spoke, anxious to get home to you. "Can you two keep an eye on the love of my life while Jake and I are gone next month?"

"Aww, Tramp needs a sitter?" Payback asked, earning a glare from Bradley. "Yeah, man, of course we'll look out for your girl."

"No problem," Coyote added.

But Jake was suddenly cracking up. "What happened to your back, Rooster? Looks like your Hen scratched you up good!"

Bradley paused; he had forgotten about his back. And now Payback and Coyote were coming closer to look as well.

"Shit! What were you trying to do to her?" Payback asked while he wiggled his eyebrows.

Coyote was just looking at him with wide eyes.

Bradley wrapped his towel around his waist and headed for the showers while the guys catcalled.

"At least I have a girl to maul my back apart, okay?" he said, giving them the finger.

"Damn, I hate it when he's right," Jake replied.

"Nice tattoo, by the way," Payback called after Bradley. "Ohhhh. He got a tattoo for her. That's what happened to his back."

Bradley listened to them all erupt into more laughter, and he couldn't help but smile himself.

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

You were sitting up in bed reading when Bradley got home. He came running into the bedroom with his hands full of stuff.

"Are you okay?" he asked, feeling your forehead and kissing your hair before you could even answer.

"I'm fine," you said, coughing a little bit. "I took my temperature, and it came down some."

"Are you hungry?" he asked, running his thumb along your cheek and making you smile.

"A little bit. You brought soup?" you asked, climbing out of bed. But Bradley scooped you up into his arms before your feet touched the floor.

"I got four kinds of soup from that deli you like. Plus a salad in case that sounded better." He carried you gently into the dining room and got you settled in a chair. He opened all of the soup containers and brought out some spoons. You selected the chicken noodle soup, and almost instantly it started making you feel better.

"Thanks, Roo."

Bradley ran around and got you water, orange juice and hot tea. He took Tramp out for a quick walk while you took a hot shower, and he was back in time to help you get dressed in clean sweats.

"I'm hoping I can just sleep all day again tomorrow while you're at work," you told him as he helped you get the knots out of your hair.

"I'm not going to work tomorrow," he informed you, kissing the back of your neck and making you shiver. "I'm staying home to make sure you get better."

"Thanks," you whispered, but he was turning you around in his arms to face him, and he didn't look happy. "What?"

He sighed. "I got papers today. Special mission."

You gasped and reached for him. "When?" you asked, flinging your arms around his neck. You felt like you were going to cry. It was mid-October. His papers must be for November if it was a special mission.

"November 5th," he whispered, and you burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry, Bradley. If I got my shit together sooner, we could be getting married this month. Now we'll have to wait longer," you sobbed against his neck.

"Shh, it's okay, Sweetheart." He was rubbing soft circles against your back. "It's just for two weeks, tops. I really should be back in time."

You wiped your eyes and looked up at him. "You think so?"

"Baby Girl, I will hijack my own aircraft and fly it home to you if I need to."

You laughed through your tears, and he held you against him. "Okay. Let's keep planning then and hope for the best."

"The only thing I want you to do at the moment is rest and feel better. I'll take care of everything else."

Bradley snuggled with you in bed, running his fingers underneath your sweatshirt and soothing your skin. "You don't feel clammy anymore," he remarked. You just shook your head and told him to keep touching your skin. You could see his tattoo peeking out of his sleeve, and it made you smile so much.

He told you about his day, and you could feel yourself melting against him as he continued to work his fingers along your back.

Pretty soon you were falling asleep in his arms while Tramp had a puppy dream in his doggy bed.

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

Bradley woke up early and had to peel you away from his body so he could get out of bed. It felt like your fever had broken overnight, but it was obvious you were exhausted and needed as much sleep as possible.

He made coffee and started to finalize the honeymoon options. He had it narrowed down to two different resorts already, but now he had to determine which one was perfect for you. The one with the butler or the one with the private deck.

Bradley decided to be selfish for a moment. You didn't really need a butler, since he was willing to wait on you hand and foot. But a private deck with a pool and a hot tub? You could sunbathe naked. You could swim naked. You could have sex with him on the deck under the stars with the Pacific Ocean as your soundtrack.

As soon as he pulled his credit card out of his wallet, he was booking it. He couldn't wait.

Next he started narrowing down caterers and florists based on what you and he had planned. There was no need for a huge menu or a ton of flowers. He found one caterer online that promised they could make any cake flavor, so he emailed them and asked if their confetti cake with strawberries was any good. Then he found a florist that had yellow and red roses as one of their gallery photos.

He really had no idea if he was doing any of this research the way you would have, but he was too excited to stop now.

"Roo?"

He turned to face you and smiled. You looked so much better. "You're up."

"Yeah, it's almost noon," you said, rubbing your eyes. "I feel a lot better now." You kissed him, and he was shocked he had been working on this for four hours.

Bradley let you sit on his lap with some reheated soup, and he showed you everything he found. Except for the honeymoon. Not yet.

"Oh! Those flowers are beautiful!" you gushed. "And I don't care what we feed everyone for dinner, as long as I have my confetti cake."

Bradley rolled his eyes; you were sassing him, so you were definitely feeling a lot better.

"I found a caterer who will make a confetti cake. They also have miniature bottles of pink champagne on their bar menu."

You gasped. "We need to book them! Is it too late?"

Bradley just sighed and kissed your shoulder. "I'll call them now and find out."

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

You were still feeling kind of tired, and your throat hurt a bit, but today had been so good, you didn't mind too much.

Bradley sweet talked the caterer of your dreams into doing your wedding as long as you bumped dinner up to 5 o'clock. He also managed to get you a chance to sample their confetti cake next Wednesday night. Then he got the florist to agree to your modest bouquets and rose petals. He even reassured you he had booked the honeymoon.

"You're the groom of my dreams," you whispered as you ran your fingers along his tattoo. "Also, you need to keep this wrapped for a few more days."

"I'll wrap it again after I take a shower," he replied, tipping you back along the couch and climbing on top of you. You had the perfect view of his handsome face, bare naked torso and his tattoo.

"I'm always going to take care of you," he promised, kissing your cheek. "Now rest for the afternoon." He pushed himself off of the couch, covered you with a blanket, and started to leave the living room.

"Yes, Daddy," you muttered, making him pause and turn to face you again.

He smirked. "Daddy wants you feeling better by the weekend, Baby Girl. We've got new tattoos to show off on video."

You just groaned and rolled over onto your side, praying you were better by the weekend.

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

Daddy Roo and his new tattoo. That's the real name of this chapter.

PART 12

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