#George Russell Drabble

[fastandcarlos]

Streamer Baby : ̗̀➛ George Russell

summary: your baby is the ultimate daddy’s girl, but when george goes off to stream she doesn’t want to find herself away from him for too long

The squeals that came from downstairs immediately brought a smile to your face as you headed down to find George and your daugther running around the living room. It was typical for the two of them, charging around and causing chaos with wide smiles on their faces. Despite your constant pleas to calm things down as your daughter’s bedtime neared, George couldn’t ignore her whines to play with her and keep her entertained. They were so lost with one another that for a moment they didn’t even notice that you had walked into the room, that was until your daughter, Willow, went crashing into your leg, hitting the ground with a bit of a bump. 

“Sorry love,” George smiled, walking over and picking Willow up from the ground in order to check her over. 

“It’s going to take forever to get her down if she’s this giddy,” you reminded him, perching on the side of the sofa. 

“Mummy, daddy kept tickling me,” your daughter complained, poking her finger into George’s cheek several times, making sure that you knew George was responsible. 

“That’s because a certain someone kept climbing on me and trying to pull out my hair,” George defended, raising a questionable glance back at Willow. 

“You’re both impossible,” you chuckled, knowing you had your hands full with the pair. 

“But you love us,” George reminded you, standing himself up from the floor and placing Willow into your lap, making sure you had her before letting go. 

“Hm, sometimes I guess you’re alright,” you teased, allowing George to press a kiss against the top of your head, and then one to the top of Willow’s. “How long do you reckon you’ll be?” You quizzed, knowing where George was heading as soon as he went to walk towards the door to your living room. 

“I think Charles picked out a couple of games for us to play, we shouldn’t take long, with how rubbish we’ve all been at games recently I imagine we’ll all crash out pretty quickly.” George assured you, “but if you need me, come and get me and I’ll leave the stream.” As George went away, Willow stretched her hands out for George to come back. He poked her tongue out at her, watching as her smile grew and several giggles escaped, helped by the feeling of your hands attacking her sides. 

Before Willow could cry out for him again, George left the room knowing she was still giggling and not paying attention. You moved down onto the floor to sit with her, picking up a couple of the toys that George had been entertaining her with whilst you finished your work in your office. For a while it seemed to work, but soon enough you noticed her eyes darting around the room as if she was looking for something, or someone. 

“Daddy,” she muttered as soon as she met your eyes, confused as to where George had suddenly disappeared to. 

“He’s playing with some of your uncles,” you told her, offering her as wide of a smile as you could make. 

“Not with me?” 

“He’ll play with you when he’s finished,” you assured her, scooping her up and sitting her into your lap, “why don’t you pick out a toy to play with for when daddy’s finished doing his work sweetheart?” 

“I want to play daddy’s game,” Willow cried out, watching as your eyes went wide at her sudden request. 

“You can’t play the games that daddy us, some of them are for adults like mummy and daddy,” you tried your best to explain to her. “I’m sure that daddy would love to play with one of your toys down here though.” 

“Now?” She pushed, her impatience beginning to kick in. 

“In a bit,” you sighed, almost feeling guilty that you weren’t able to keep her as happy as George seemed to. You were well aware you had a proper daddy’s girl on your hands, she doted on absolutely everything that George did, and when things didn’t go right, George was always the first person that Willow ran to whenever she felt tears threatening to spill. 

Upstairs in the office that you had vacated only a few minutes earlier, George was lost in the game that he and a few of the other boys were playing. Every so often he slipped his headphones off to listen out and make sure that things were alright with you. As he went to check again, George was left confused by a banging sound that came from the other side of the door. 

George stopped for a moment before excusing himself, walking over to the door. As he opened it up, two bright brown eyes stared back up at him. “Sweetheart,” George giggled as Willow innocently smiled. 

“Daddy, I found you,” she proudly giggled, stretching her arms up to let George know exactly what she wanted him to do. 

“I wasn’t lost,” he chuckled, kneeling down and scooping his little girl up into his arms. She rested against George’s chest as soon as he had her, cuddling into him nice and tight. George could only sigh, walking back into the room and sitting on his gaming chair with Willow against him. He didn’t have the heart to put her down, and certainly didn’t have the heart to tell her to give him some space. As much as Willow was a daddy’s girl, George was equally as obsessed with her. Although George set boundaries and tried his best to be a firm parent, he found it incredibly hard saying no to her, especially when she looked at him with her sweet smile. 

George didn’t need to say anything, as soon as Willow appeared on the screen the comments on his stream began to increase. Everyone was thrilled to see her, George’s fans especially were in love with any interaction they saw between the two of them, particularly whenever George had Willow in the paddock with him with all of the cameras around. 

“Lots of your uncles are here,” George grinned, placing the mic of his headphones in front of her. 

“Hi,” she waved, shouting into the mic, unaware that she had just deafened all of the boys in the process. 

“Sorry about that,” George laughed as he placed his headphones back on again, “this one’s a little sleepy so she’s going to stay here for a bit.” 

“Such a whipped dad,” Lando couldn’t help but tease as he watched the duo on his screen, “I don’t know how your wife puts up with you.” 

“Excuse me,” George sighed, shooting a glare down his camera. “I’ll have you know being a dad is the best thing in the world, you just wait, when you’ve got a baby doting on you one day you’ll understand,” he added, unaware of the many fans swooning as they watched the screen and saw George fiercely defend his family. 

“You’re the best dad,” Alex interrupted, chuckling as Willow shuffled to get even closer to George. “You two have the sort of relationship I want to have with my daughter when I get older.” 

“Still annoyingly cute,” Carlos interjected, “the rest of us have some catching up to do.” 

“We used to always say we’d have a grid of our own children when we retired, and at the moment that’s a grid of one,” George reminded them all, disturbed by the door opening out of the corner of his eye. You let go of a sigh as you opened it up to see Willow snuggled into George’s side, watching as he smiled across at you, assuring you that he didn’t mind that she had interrupted his stream. 

“Hi love,” George whispered once he had muted his mic. 

“I thought I’d lost her,” you sighed, leaning against the doorframe and taking in the sight of the two of you before you. 

“I think someone might have been missing their daddy,” George explained, pressing a kiss against the top of Willow’s head. “Sorry, I should’ve told you that I had her here.” 

“Don’t worry, just as long as you don’t mind having her there,” you smiled back at George. 

“I don’t mind.” 

“Tell her that we don’t mind too,” Lando called out through the headphones having overheard your conversation. 

“The boys say she has to stay,” George smiled, knowing that you couldn’t say no to those guys either. “Once she’s asleep I’ll let her rest and tuck her in when we’re finished here if that’s alright for you.” 

As you noticed your little girl resting against George, you didn’t have it in you to disturb her. You’d fallen asleep enough times on George to know just how comfortable it was and so you couldn’t deprive your little girl of that comfort too. 

“I’ll leave you guys to it if you’re happy,” you softly spoke. 

“We’re all good, you go and get some rest.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[5sospenguinqueen]

Little League Karting - George Russell x Reader

Summary: Fighting against Lando's big mouth and fans' speculations, George and Yn somehow managed to keep a special moment hidden from the private eye.

Requested: Yes by anon

Warnings: Pregnancy. Swearing, Fluff. Suggestive comments

2023 season. Pinterest pics

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_ln just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, alex_albon and others

yn_ln happy anniversary, georgie. here’s to 5 years together. i can’t wait to have at least 50 more with you 

2,992 comments

georgerussell63 happy anniversary, my darling. i’d spend forever with you on that beach 

alex_albon still can’t believe he went on holiday without me

→ landonorris he stopped loving us 5 years ago 

→ georgerussell63 you know you’re always in my heart

→ yn_ln and this is why @/lilymhe and i are running away together 

→ georgerussell63 but, i thought you loved me

user1 another day, another shirtless george pic

mercedesamgf1 the cutest grid couple 

→ landonorris actually that would be me and carlos

→ danielricciardo no it’s me and max

→ yn_ln stop stealing my moment 

charlesleclerc @/georgerussell63 as director of the gpda, i would like you to hear my complaint against your girlfriend posting shirtless pics of you. it has blinded me, thus hindering my ability to drive on sunday

→ yn_ln maybe if you looked at the track more than yourself in the mirror, you would see better

→ charlesleclerc now i’m complaining that she’s hurted my feelings

pierregasly it wouldn’t be a photo dump without shirtless george

user2 so no ring?

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_ln just posted

liked by mercedesamgf1, roscoelovescoco and others

yn_ln my weekend boys

3,850 comments

user3 who’s your favourite

→ yn_ln bono and roscoe 

→ georgerussell63 whoa now. i’ll remember this energy when you want me to stroke your back as you fall asleep

→ mercedesamgf1 toto said he would like to talk to you on thursday

→ yn_ln the boss man knows he has a special place in my heart?

→ mercedesamgf1 the question mark makes that doubtful - toto

lilymhe okay but the fit is serving 

→ yn_ln had to squeeze myself into those jeans. think i need to stop sneaking a macca’s when george isn’t around

→ lilymhe so long as we can keep our cheeky waffle sundays 

→ yn_ln always ;)

→ georgerussell63 excuse me

landonorris fake caption, alex and i aren’t here

→ danielricciardo i think you’ll find i’m her favourite

→ yn_ln my favourite doesn’t race anymore :( 

→ georgerussell63 sweetheart, kimi hasn’t raced for over a year

mercedesamgf1 lewis isn’t happy that you chose the photo that makes him look small

→ yn_ln i haven’t yet mastered photoshop. please pass my condolences to lewis for showing him his actual height 

user4 my favourite thing about yn’s race weekend posts is seeing how hot she looks in her race day fits 

→ user5 yes because she spends fri and sat in williams merch and then SERVES on sundays 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

formula1 have added a new YouTube video

user6 not them still being referred to as 2019 rookies like it’s not their 5th year on the grid 

user7 did anyone catch what alex said at the end that made george and lando laugh?

→ user8 no i swear it was edited so we couldn’t hear 

user9 did you guys see the way alex and george looked at each other? they know something! 

→ user10 and the way lando giggled after like he’d done something wrong

user11 not george trying to save himself by saying she’s always in his heart 

→ user12 if i was yn, i’d be messaging him saying i caught the ick

→ user13 no because even george looked weirded out after saying it

→ user14 lando and alex immediately taking the piss out of him

→ user15 didn’t he say that to alex and lando once?

user16 lando definitely said something he wasn’t supposed to

→ user17 the fear in george and alex’s eyes before they tried to play it off

→ user18 and we can all tell that little league line was bullshit he made up on the spot 

user20 okay so we’re all thinking that one of the grid are having a baby right?

→ user21 the only question is who?

user22 but aside from his brief blunder, the way george spoke about yn in this 

→ user23 honestly my goal in life is to have a love like theirs

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_ln just posted

liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton and others

yn_ln don’t mind me, just showing off my extensive hoodie collection

3,002 comments 

user1 everyone relax, she’s alive

user2 girl, you can’t vanish for 3 months and then show up just to post hoodies?

user3 i love yn but i cannot pretend that this is acceptable. she abandoned us for months and no apology

user4 no babe, we need you back in the paddock serving face and body 

landonorris oi, i’ve given you like five and you can’t be bothered- the audacity 

danielricciardo DR3 dominance, baby! 

carlossainz55 smooth operator

user5 love that she posts a lewis one, not a george one

→ user6 i find it odd. she hasn’t posted him in a while and he’s not liked the post 

→ user7 she only posted it 5 hours ago, give the man time

→ user8 but he’s usually always first and no comment?

charlesleclerc wait, i didn’t realise you were taking options from other drivers. can i add to the collection?

→ yn_ln only if it has ‘just an incident’ on it

maxverstappen1 i’ve got one with giant pockets so you can put all your snacks in it

→ yn_ln ladies and gentleman we have a winner! 

→ alex_albon i can’t believe he won

→ yn_ln yeah well he tempted me with pickles and peanut butter

→ oscarpiastri together?

→ yn_ln is that a judging tone! 

→ oscarpiastri no! please don’t cry again

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

user9 um why is this hashtag trending. let’s not speak this into existence

user10 okay some of you calling us crazy but george and yn are one of the more public couples and now we get nothing?

→ user11 i need an interviewer to ask him about her because the way his eyes light up when he talks about her can’t lie to us

→ user12 yes! if the eyes are sad then we know they’re over

albonooo lily asked me to tell you to stop licking the screen

→ lightningmclerc oh so THOSE hormones have kicked in

→ letsgolando they never left, how do you think she ended up in this situation 

→ ynoncrack i am not a horndog! 

→ princessgeorge well…

chili55 please don’t have another child if this is what we have to deal with 

→ ynoncrack have i really been that bad 🥺 george said i haven’t been that hormonal

→ kiksgomes what is wrong with you, carlos! we just got her to stop crying

→ princessgeorge oh no, what’s up, honey?

→ golflils she was upset because your curls looked amazing and she couldn't run her hands through them

→ ynoncrack oh my god, i am a horndog! 

letsgolando all i’m saying, baby russell better be mega adorable after all this

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

georgerussell63 and yn_ln just posted

liked by alex_albon, landonorris and others

georgerussel63 baby russell was born happy and healthy two weeks ago. whilst we settle into life as new parents, please enjoy some baby bump pictures to tide you over

10,499 comments

alex_albon i’m so happy for the two of you and can’t wait to meet mini russell

→ lilymhe you’re just glad yn won’t be crying on facetime anymore

→ alex_albon that too 

user1 okay but the hand placement wow

→ user2 we all know how they ended up here then lol

lewishamilton much love to the new parents ❤️

user3 oh so the complete opposite of a breakup then 

user4 hang on a second. so not only was yn pregnant but they've had the baby? parents for real?

user5 how did gossip girl george russell keep this from us

→ user6 especially when he saw us all theorising his breakup

→ georgerussell63 trust me, it was hard

→ yn_ln he wrote a bunch of tweets defending us on a fake account

charles_leclerc congratulations george and yn. i cannot wait to meet the little one

→ alexandrasaintmleux he's already had a bunch of baby ferrari onesies made

→ alex_albon over my dead body will my godbaby wear those!

williamsracing congratulations. what happy news

→ mercedesamgf1 you can’t have him back

→ yn_ln neither of you can have him over the next month. he’s all mine and bean’s

francisca.cgomes free my girl! those boobs belong to me

→ yn_ln always

→ georgerussell63 @/pierregasly please come get your girl. she's trying to steal mine 

→ pierregasly she’s right though. you don’t need to be groping her like that on main

→ georgerussell63 oh no one asked you, “tripod” 

landonorris oh, thank god. took you long enough to tell the world he was here. keeping it to myself these past few months was giving me wrinkles

→ user7 they’ve had a boy!!!

→ landonorris crap

→ alex_albon well done mate

→ landonorris but i did so well! 

→ user8 omg so it was george and yn who were expecting when lando made up that bullshit about little league karting

→ landonorris hey! i want to see their kid in a go kart so it wasn’t a total lie

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @leclercsluvs (you mentioned wanting to read this on an ask WEEKS ago and it's taken me forever to write it so i am so sorry!)

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ where the heart is (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : george russell x adopted! hamilton reader

summary: a move will test where the heart lies

tw : fluff

fc : jasmine tookes

a/n : thank you so much to @josephqunnies for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell, alexandramieux and 1,302,498 others

ynhamilton ending 24 with blings *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

view comments

user1 ma’am just came to serve looks

user2 is everything ok with george? HE IS WEARING A SHIRT !?

user3 george literally said I ain’t leaving the hamiltons

lewishamilton mum said that you need to learn to smile 😃

ynhamilton you could never get a picture as perfect as mine 😗

user4 if they fight like this in the comments

user5 don’t even imagine real life

georgerussell stop buying ferrrari merch

ynhamilton my brother is in ferrari?

georgerussell your lover is still in mercedes ?

ynhamilton yeah yeah, our kids will support mercedes

alexandrasaintmieux ma’am, can you contact me to your stylist !?

ynhamilton you have my number bbg 😍

user6 the fashion genes do run in the family I guess

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell, user1, user2 and 2,378,297 others

ynhamilton Wrong Direction ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

view comments

landonorris album drop when ?

landonorris saving me money 💰

ynhamilton McLaren not paying you ?

oscarpiastri he probably spent it on his late night escapades

landonorris for god's sake, THIS IS THE MAIN ACCOUNT !?

maxverstappen1 waiting for my fifth

ynhamilton waiting for the eighth and first

georgerussell you remember me ?

ynhamilton I remember toto 🫶🏻

alexandrasaintmieux can’t wait to go explore Monaco !!

ynhamilton I have George’s and lewis’s cards ready

georgerussell I am going round on track and debt

francolapinto you should come to argentina!

ynhamilton are you inviting ?

francolapinto is it you are asking ?

georgerussell stop flirting with an old lady

ynhamilton glad to know that this OLD LADY still has her charms 😊

liked by georgerussell, landonorris, lewishamilton and 1,267,297 others

ynhamilton keeping up with the hamiltons and a russell

view comments

lewishamilton what’s with your obsession with reality shows !?

ynhamilton just like your obsession with your clothes

lewishamilton for god’s sake, either stop posting me on your feed, or post a better picture

ynhamilton no, DEAR BROTHER

georgerussell another day of being the side chick

ynhamilton hey! at least you are in the show !?

charlesleclerc which streaming platform ?

ynhamilton f1tv 🫦

charlesleclerc I mean if you plan to seduce them and get it there …?

georgerussell I AM STILL ALIVE !

georgerussell NOT YET DEAD FROM MY CRASHES !

ynhamilton oh, don't need that when you have got a seven time works champion

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4 and 372,487 others

f1wags With the recent move of her brother to ferrari, will Y/N Hamilton and George Russell’s relationship be affected ?

view comments

user1 that’s a low blow man

user2 tbh, I don’t think so, she is Lewis’s adopted sibling, so I doubt she will support him that much

user3 seriously !? adopted ?

user4 adopted or not, they are still siblings

user5 I don’t think we should speculate someone’s relationship just based on a move

user6 not like he is moving away from the paddock!

user7 but y/n won’t be around both at the same time ?

user8 this is going to be messy

user9 I hope she dates Charles

user10 bruh, what about Alex ?

liked by lewishamilton, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen1 and 2,376,378 others

ynhamilton guess the heart stays with Mercedes

view comments

lewishamilton guess I need to see your face every day

charlesleclerc George, please don't make your wedding photos include that pose of yours

georgerussell its not that bad now

landinorris FREE BOOZE

ynhamilton you guys are forgetting to congratulate me ..?

alexandrasaintmieux OMGGGG, WEDDING IN THE HOUSE 🤭

maxverstappen1 congrats y/n and George !!

liked by ynhamilton, georgerussell, landonorris and 4,287,270 others

lewishamilton You were just 2 when you came waddling in our house, I kept on asking mum if she really had to get you home. I would always tease you that they picked you up from the dustbin and I would laugh seeing you cry but thank you for the number of scars on my knees and elbows, dipping my face in jam and drawing doodles on my helmets. Thank you for always putting my needs above yours, sacrificing your school trips and prom dresses just so dad could afford my karting. I am grateful that you have found a soulmate in a man like George, who I know will go poles to keep you happy. I am proud of you and will always love you, my little sister from the dustbin. ❤️

comments on this post have been turned off

[chilling-seavey]

↳ A/N In some of my casual concepting I do in my spare time, this random blurb idea came out of it and I had to flesh it out to post because it genuinely [and embarrassingly] made me laugh out loud.

↳ Summary: Your curious two-year-old son discovers something he shouldn't.

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 2.3k

↳ Warnings: Unedited. Mentions of adult related items in not adult situations, possible secondhand embarrassment, honestly it's just a good ol' lighthearted silly blurb

“You never realize how much useless stuff you have until you’re packing.”

George chuckled at your sentiment as he leaned against the open doorway to your shared bedroom, arms crossed over his chest and his skin tight work-out shirt. He had just returned from his early afternoon gym session — skillfully scheduled right over your two-year-old son’s nap time — and had found you amongst another round of attempting to pack up your Monaco apartment for your impending move. 

With a toddler and balancing George’s chaotic race schedule, it was hard to actually find time to dedicate to packing so you took any chance you could get. It was a slow but sure process; but also meant you were going to be living out of cardboard boxes for a few weeks. How glamorous. 

“As good a time as any to bin anything useless then.” George replied, watching you putter between the dresser and the half-filled cardboard box positioned on the foot of the bed. “Only important things are coming with us.”

Your freshly awake and quite lively two-year-old was blissfully exploring your bedroom, wobbling around your legs and into every corner as he babbled away to himself. His favourite toy car was clutched in one hand (he rarely went anywhere without it) as he peered into open drawers of the dresser and explored the half closed cardboard boxes neatly lined up by the wall. 

“The only important things I need are you two.” you replied to your husband with a proud smile. 

George’s eyebrows raised as a smirk pricked his lips and he pushed off the doorway to saunter farther into the room, “Oh, really? Well, then, we might as well just live in one of these boxes since we need nothing else but each other.”

You smiled back at him as he approached you, his hands navigating to your hips like second nature. Fiddling with the random cluster of wires you had pulled out of your bottom dresser drawer, you kept his tender eye contact as you replied to him softly, “As much as that is so appealing, I feel we may have Children’s Aid called on us.”

Before George could offer any sort of rebuttal, your toddler let out a giddy squeal from across your room followed by an adorable, “Uh oh!”

You both looked over quickly to see what he had gotten into now (foolish of you both to even take your eyes off him for more than three seconds), only to find your two year old beside one of the packed cardboard boxes, bottle of lube in hand. Except the bottle had been opened by his tiny nimble fingers and he was squirting the clear substance all over his hands and arms. That was NOT something either of you wanted your son to get a hold of.

Your eyes widened in sheer shock, “Oh-”

George felt his heart drop into his stomach, instantly moving away from you with a stern call of your son’s name followed by a, “No, no, no.”

He bent down beside the toddler and quickly grabbed him by the wrist to keep him from spreading the lube everywhere, his other hand snatching the now half-empty bottle from him. George looked back at you, shock and embarrassment written all over his face.

Despite the unideal situation, you couldn’t help the amused smile that threatened to spread across your face and you lifted a hand up to your mouth to try and hide the upturn of your lips.

“Yucky!” your son giggled, clapping his hands together to make the wettest slapping sound.

“Jesus.” George muttered with a shake of his head, reaching over the kid to set the slippery bottle on the bedside table for the time being. He had a toddler now smeared in lube to deal with first and, God, he didn’t know where to start. Staring down at the smiley kid, he directed to you (or the universe), “Why does he have to find the most embarrassing stuff to play with?”

You went back to trying to untangle the clump of cords as you offered half teasingly, “Maybe we should look into drawers that lock for our new house.”

“Yeah, maybe you're right. We should start locking up everything before he goes destroying the whole place before we are even moved in,” George said, a hint of resignation in his voice.

The little boy, with one wrist still in George's firm grip, reached out his other hand towards his father’s face, announcing proudly, “Slimy.”

George leaned his head back, out of the toddler’s reach, with a strained, “Oh, no. No, no, no, don't you dare-”

With an amused giggle, the toddler took his hand back and, instead, went to bring his little fingers to his mouth to taste. 

George saw what he was about to do and his eyes widened in horror. The last thing he needed was his son putting lube in his mouth.

“No, hey, stop that!” George exclaimed, quickly grabbing your son’s other wrist with his other hand to prevent him from touching his mouth. “You can't put that in your mouth, mate. It's all kinds of wrong. It's for adults only!”

Threading the cords through your fingers, you offered unhelpfully, “Well, it is safe for consumption, technically.”

George shot you a dirty look, only half truly exasperated, shaking his head in disbelief at your comment. Your attempt to hide your laughter wasn't going unnoticed.

“Oh, yeah, because that's reassuring,” he replied sarcastically, “Safe for consumption or not, our son does not need to be putting that in his mouth. Especially not while it's all over his hands like this!”

“Little one needs a bath, I think.” you said in a gentle voice.

George nodded in agreement, his annoyance quickly replaced by a resigned sigh. He hadn’t even had a moment to wash off from his gym session himself and now he had to deal with a lubed up toddler’s majorly required bathtime. 

“Yeah, you're right. He's made quite a mess of himself, hasn't he?” George said, still holding tight to your son’s tiny wrists to prevent him from getting more lube all over the place.

“Did you want me to bathe him?” you offered, easily noting the slight frustration in his voice.

“No, that’s alright, I can handle him.” George relented and cautiously let go of the little boy’s wrists so he could pick him up under the armpits and set him on his hip. He started to walk around the cardboard boxes towards the ensuite, speaking to your son in a stern but affectionate tone, “Alright, mate, let's get you clean. You're sticky and slimy, and Daddy's not too happy about it.”

He barely stepped foot in the bathroom when the little boy smacked a slimy palm against his father’s cheek with a giggle. 

George's eyes widened in shock and disgust, grabbing his wrist again with his free hand and a firm huff of your son’s name, “Ugh, seriously? That's gross!”

You spoke before you could think, a smirk playing at your lips at the entire situation, “You've had it in worse places.”

At your comment, George shot you a disapproving look over his shoulder, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Of course, you had to bring that up at the most inopportune moment. Trying to keep his voice even as he continued into the bathroom, he replied with a flat, “Now is not the time for that kind of smartass remark, love.” 

Once they were inside the bathroom, George set the two-year-old down on the ground next to the bathtub. He turned on the water, making sure it was the right temperature before testing it with his hand, not bothering to interact with how the little boy smacked his greasy hands on the front of his shorts.

“Okay, buddy, let's get you cleaned up,” George said, still trying to sound stern despite the underlying amusement he felt from the whole situation. He started to take off the boy’s clothes, one piece at a time, while shaking his head in disbelief.

The little one squirmed, protesting with a little whine, “Nooo bath, Dada.”

George let out a sigh as your son protested against the bath, his toddler stubbornness making itself known once again. The joys of the terrible and trying twos.

“Oh, come on, mate, you need a bath. You're all sticky and slimy. You'll feel much better afterward, I promise,” he said, gently but firmly, trying to keep up a patient demeanor while he removed the last of his clothes. He folded them haphazardly and left them on the closed toilet lid beside the tub.

The toddler tried to put his fingers in his mouth again.

Once more, George caught his wrist just in time, “No, no, no, we don't do that. Keep your hands out of your mouth, you little rascal.”

Without wasting another second, George lifted the toddler up and into the bathtub and immediately submerged his hands to try and get the worst of it off. Of course, he would still need a scrub since the lube somehow got everywhere. George then grabbed a washcloth and started to lather it up with some baby-safe soap.

“You know, I never imagined I'd be bathing my two-year-old son in the middle of the day because he decided to play with lubricant,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief with a faint chuckle as he scrubbed the boy down. The irony of it all wasn't lost on him.

Unknowing what he was really talking about or meaning but still liking the soft tone of George’s voice, the little boy giggled along with him. George’s fingers raked through his son’s hair, only to find remnants of slippery lube somehow streaked through the soft strands too. 

“Yeah, it's funny now, isn't it? Just wait until you're a grown-up, and I tell this story at your wedding,” George teased in return to the clueless toddler, gently soaping up and rinsing the boy's hair. “We'll be talking all about the time you decided to turn yourself into a slimy, wriggly little mess by playing with mommy and daddy's private stuff.”

Soon, once the giggly little boy was sufficiently scrubbed and rinsed and clean, George drained the tub and wrapped him in a soft, fluffy towel.

“There we go, all clean and spiffy again.” he said, picking up the toddler and starting to dry him off with gentle pats.

Wrapped in the big fluffy white towel, the little boy looked so cute and tiny in his arms. He stared back at George with only his little face and a small tuft of damp hair poking out from the towel that nearly swallowed him, nothing but big blue eyes taking up most of his face. 

George couldn't help but melt at the sight of his son, all wrapped up in the towel, looking at him with those big, blue eyes that were his very own. It was moments like those that made all the stress and chaos and mess of parenting worthwhile. He cuddled his boy close, running his hand gently over the little one’s back over the thick fabric of the towel to keep him warm and dried.

“You're a little troublemaker, you know that?” George muttered against your son’s head before pressing a kiss to the same spot, “But you're my little troublemaker, and I love you.”

Content and warm and cozy, the little boy flopped his head onto his father’s shoulder.

George smiled and felt a warm, protective feeling fill his chest as the toddler leaned his head against his shoulder. He snuggled him closer with a soft and gentle voice, “Yeah, you're all cuddly now, huh? All that exploring and playing and bathing wore you out?”

When he carried the little one back out into your bedroom, you looked up from your packing, smiling fondly at the sweet sight of them. George, somewhat frazzled but still as handsome as ever with your son on his hip in a towel far too big for him but one that made him look ridiculously adorable. 

You greeted them softly, “There are my boys.” 

George walked over to you, his hands under the little one’s bum to hold him snuggled against his chest, his cheek resting atop his son’s head. 

“Yeah, here we are.” he said in a breathy sing-song voice, only ever used around your little one, “All cleaned up.”

Your son’s big blue eyes sought you out and he wriggled away from George’s chest to reach his tiny arms out from the towel towards you instead with a sweet call of, “Mama.”

“Come here, my little love.” you cooed, reaching for him in return. 

George passed him over to you, the exchange making the towel slip off the little boy’s body for a moment until you gathered it back from your husband’s hands and tucked it back around the toddler. George chuckled faintly at the sight of the little one just as naked as the day he was born and still searching for the comfort of your embrace.

When your son was snuggled up in your arms instead, you asked him sweetly, “What’s the big idea going through mommy and daddy’s things, hm?”

George tutted in agreement and made sure the towel was sufficiently wrapped around his little body to keep him from catching a chill. The toddler just smiled innocently and batted his long lashes at his father and clung onto your shirt. 

George shook his head, amused and charmed, “It's not fair. He's so sweet and adorable that it makes it difficult to stay cross with him.”

“He’s just a curious little explorer.” you said with a smile, peppering a few kisses to your son’s head. “Who can be cross with him for that?”

♡ Enjoying my content? Support my writing here :)

♡ None of the original writing on this blog may be reproduced, reposted, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

[pucksandpower]

DSQ

George Russell x Wolff!Reader

Summary: George was on top of the world … until he wasn’t

Note: I actually had a whole other fic written in honor of George’s win, but yeah, that happened

George slumps in his chair, staring blankly at the wall of his driver’s room. The sting of disappointment and anger courses through him, his victory at the Belgian Grand Prix cruelly snatched away by a technicality. He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration.

The door creaks open, and you step in quietly, holding a steaming cup of earl grey tea. George’s nostrils flare at the familiar scent, a small comfort in this storm of emotions.

“Hey,” you say softly, approaching him. “I brought you your favorite.”

George looks up, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. “Thanks,” he mumbles, reaching for the cup with trembling hands.

You perch on the arm of his chair, your hand finding its way to his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He takes a sip of the tea, closing his eyes briefly. When he opens them, there’s a mix of gratitude and anguish in his gaze. “I just ... I can’t believe this happened. All that work, all that effort, and it’s gone because of 1.5 bloody kilograms.”

You nod, your thumb tracing soothing circles on his shoulder. “I know, love. It’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” George scoffs, his voice rising. “It’s a bloody joke, that’s what it is! I drove the race of my life out there. I fought for P1, managed those tires like a pro, and now ... now it’s all for nothing.”

“It’s not for nothing,” you counter gently. “You still proved yourself out there. Everyone saw what you can do.”

George shakes his head vehemently. “But it doesn’t count, does it? Not officially. I went up on that podium, I held that trophy, I sprayed champagne, and now ...” His voice cracks. “Now I have to give it all back.”

You slide off the arm of the chair and kneel in front of him, taking his free hand in both of yours. “George, look at me.”

He meets your gaze reluctantly, tears threatening to spill over.

“You are an incredible driver,” you say firmly. “One issue that you had no control over doesn’t change that. This wasn’t your fault.”

George’s jaw clenches. “But it was the team’s fault. They should have caught this. They should have fixed it before the race even started.”

You nod, understanding his frustration. “You’re right. They made a mistake, and it cost you. But you can’t change what happened now. All you can do is move forward.”

He lets out a bitter laugh. “Move forward? To what? More disappointment? More near misses?”

“To your next victory,” you insist. “Because there will be a next one, schatz. This isn’t the end of your story.”

George’s shoulders sag, the fight seeming to drain out of him. “I just ... I wanted this so badly. For the team, for myself, for ...” He looks at you, his expression softening. “For us.”

You reach up, cupping his face in your hands. “I know, liebling. And I’m so proud of you, regardless of what the official results say.”

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes. “Your father must be furious.”

You can’t help but chuckle. “Vati’s always furious about something. But he knows this wasn’t your fault. He’s far more angry at the team than at you.”

George’s eyes snap open. “Really?”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “Really. In fact, he was quite impressed with your driving today. Said it was some of the best he’s seen from you.”

A flicker of pride crosses George’s face, but it’s quickly replaced by doubt. “But what if ... what if this is as close as I get? What if I never actually win another race this season?”

“Hey,” you say firmly, making him look at you. “That’s not the George Russell I know talking. The George I know doesn’t give up. He fights. He perseveres. He comes back stronger.”

George swallows hard, his eyes searching yours. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know you,” you say simply. “I’ve seen your determination and your passion. This setback? It’s just fuel for your fire.”

He takes a shaky breath, nodding slowly. “You’re right. You’re always right.”

You grin, lightening the mood. “Well, Vati always says being right runs in the family.”

That draws a genuine laugh from George, the first since news of the disqualification broke. “God, I love you,” he says, his voice filled with warmth.

“I love you too,” you reply, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. As you pull back, you notice some of the tension has left his shoulders.

“So,” you say, a mischievous glint in your eye. “What can I do to help you feel better?”

George raises an eyebrow, a hint of his usual playfulness returning. “Well, your presence alone is doing wonders, but I’m open to suggestions.”

You stand up slowly, your hands moving to the zipper of your dress. “How about we start with getting rid of this?”

George’s eyes widen. “Here?”

You shrug, a coy smile playing on your lips. “Why not? I think you’ve earned a little rule-breaking today, don’t you?”

He hesitates for a moment, glancing towards the door. “What if someone walks in?”

“Then they’ll get quite a show,” you tease, your fingers toying with the zipper. “Unless you’d rather I stop?”

George’s gaze darkens, his earlier frustrations momentarily forgotten. He reaches out, pulling you onto his lap. “Don’t you dare,” he growls playfully, his hands finding your waist.

As you lean in to kiss him, you can feel some of the day’s tension melting away. You know there will be more challenges ahead, more disappointments to face. But right now, in this moment, you’re determined to remind George of all the good things he has in his life — starting with you.

The kiss deepens, and for a while, the world outside this room ceases to exist. There’s only you and George, finding comfort and strength in each other’s arms, ready to face whatever comes next … together.

[cutielando]

wedding of the century | g.r.

social media au

synopsis: in which you and George finally tie the knot

my masterlist

liked by georgerussell63, alexandrasaintmleux and 1,267,348 others

yourusername last vacation as an engaged couple💍🤍 tagged: georgerussell63

📍Bali, Indonesia

view all 89,352 comments

georgerussell63 can't wait to make you my wife🤍

yourusername can't wait to be your wife😭😮‍💨

landonorris there are children on this app, you know

yourusername we know, so what are you doing out of bed?

landonorris you're not funny😢

georgerussell63 you're not either, what a coincidence

user1 our favorite engaged couple serving once again🤍🤍🤍🤍

user2 can you guys believe Y/N is going to be Mrs. Russell in less than a month?😭😭😭

user3 it seems like only yesterday they announced their relationship man😯😢😢

user4 i knoooooow, time is moving so fast😭

alex_albon some photo credits would have been nice

yourusername i'm sorry, do i know you?

alex_albon …lando’s right, you’re no fun

georgerussell63 don’t make fun of my soon-to-be wife, alexander

mercededamgf1 Wishing you a nice vacation and we’ll see you at the wedding!🤍

yourusername thank you admin!!❤️

user5 the fact that the Mercedes admin is just as invested in their relationship as we are does things to me 😮‍💨😮‍💨

lilymhe you’re glowing, y/n🤍🤍

yourusername wedding bliss is settling in already 🤍

charles_leclerc why didn’t you invite us?

yourusername …it was a couple’s getaway?

charles_leclerc i don’t see your point

georgerussell63 we wanted to be alone, mate

charles_leclerc oh…nasty asses

user5 my parents right there ❤️

liked by formula1wags, mercedesamgf1 and 39,147 others

formula1gossip George Russell and Y/N Y/L/N are getting married tomorrow! We wish the couple nothing but the very best. What do we think about the grand event?

view all 824 comments

user1 MY PARENTS ARE GETTING MARRIED🫶🏻🫶🏻

user2 i just know the other drivers will get wasted

maxlover max is gonna get so drunk lol

georgieboi I cannot wait!!!!🤍🤍

user3 seeing them get engaged and now married is like watching a fairytale for real

user4 so happy for them!!!!

mercedesamgf1 it's going to be a wild night, that's for sure😅

user5 we're gonna need photos admin!!!!!

mercedesamgf1 of course!!

user6 i just know their wedding is going to be so good!!🤍🤍 Y/N is going to be gorgeous, i just know it

liked by f1, francisca.cgomes and 9,174,582 others

yourusername & georgerussell63 Mr. and Mrs.🤍

view all 291,573 comments

f1 Congratulations to the happy couple!❤️

mercedesamgf1 the most beautiful wedding and the most beautiful couple!!!! (we're totally not saying that because they're ours)����🤍

maxverstappen1 congrats mate, beautiful wedding

yourusername you were drunk for the better part of it

georgerussell63 and shirtless

maxverstappen1 still a good wedding

francisca.cgomes congrats guys!!!! Y/N, you were INSANELY BEAUTIFUL BABE 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

yourusername thank you so much babe!!!!!!! i love you girlie 🫶🏻🫶🏻

francisca.cgomes i love you too 🤍🤍

georgerussell63 I was there, too, yk

francisca.cgomes stop trying to steal the spotlight, George

landonorris good job, guys👍🏻

yourusername thank you, lando

georgerussell63 do you even remember being there?

landonorris bits and pieces

yourusername no wonder, you drank half of the bar😒

landonorris i had fun, okay?

yourusername i’m sure you did 😂 i’m glad you had fun, you lifted the spirits

user1 OUR PARENTS ARE FINALLY MARRIED😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

user2 omg they look so good!!!!!🤍🤍

user3 if you look closely, you can see me under the car

user4 AHHHHHHHHH THE RUSSELLS🥹🥹🥹

user5 your honor, I AM IN LOVE WITH THEM

user6 George is so lucky, Y/N was stunning 🤍😭😭

georgerussell63 i know, right?

user6 George is just as much of a simp for Y/N as we are 😭😭

carlossainz55 wishing happiness to the happy couple!🌶️❤️

yourusername thank you, chilli🫶🏻❤️

georgerussell63 thanks, mate🤍

oscarpiastri very interesting event, it was

georgerussell63 we are sorry for the trauma you have suffered, Oscar

yourusername we are willing to pay for your therapy

oscarpiastri thank you

user7 i wanna know what happened to Oscar 😭😭

oscarpiastri it is never going to surface

user8 what happened at that wedding 😭?????

danielricciardo 🤍🤍 very beautiful night

yourusername thank you daniel 🤍 we couldn’t have kept everything under control without you

georgerussell63 glad you stepped up, mate

danielricciardo anytime for my favorite people

lewishamilton glad to have been by your side on the most important day of your lives!🤍

georgerussell63 thank you lewis!

yourusername roscoe was the most important guest 🤍🤍 if we’re being honest

lewishamilton ...overshadowed by my own dog

lilymhe the most fun i’ve had in a long time ❤️❤️

yourusername i’m so glad you had fun 🫶🏻🫶🏻 thank you for being there for us

alexandrasaintmleux you were so beautiful 🤍🤍 and the wedding was out of this world 🫶🏻🫶🏻

yourusername stoooop😭😭😭🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

charles_leclerc she’s been insinuating stuff ever since, what have you done?

georgerussell63 she has that effect

yourusername you’re sleeping outside.

lilyzneimer gorgeous bride 🤍🤍🤍

yourusername thank you, ily🫶🏻🤍🤍

oscarpiastri stop stealing my girlfriend, you’re married

yourusername and?

georgerussell63 what do you mean and????? i’m right here

yourusername details

liked by landonorris, mercedesamgf1 and 2,193,045 others

yourusername life is a constant honeymoon with you 🤍

📍 Amalfi Coast, Italy

view all 98,173 comments

georgerussell63 every day with you feels like a honeymoon🤍

yourusername i love you so much 😭🤍

georgerussell63 i love you more 🤍

francisca.cgomes I want pictures!!!!!!

yourusername of course babe!!! could never forget you

georgerussell63 she's been taking pictures ever since we arrived for you

francisca.cgomes priorities, george☺️

mercedesamgf1 We wish you two an incredible honeymoon! 🤍

yourusername thank you admin 🤍🤍 (if you dare call him while we're away, i'll hunt you down)

mercedesamgf1 yes ma'am

landonorris come home, the kids miss you

yourusername we just left, aren't you having fun with your brother alex?

alex_albon we got bored of each other already

georgerussell63 figure it out, guys

user1 they are my roman empire😭🤍😭🤍😭🤍

user2 seeing them married has made me realize how old i am and how long i have been following these two 😭🤍

user3 georgerussell63 can you fight?

georgerussell63 for her, yes.

yourusername damn babe, that's hot

georgerussell63 you’re hot 😋

alexandrasaintmleux 🫶🏻🫶🏻

yourusername 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻miss u girl

charles_leclerc stop making her cry

yourusername stop making a fuss over everything i say

user3 they’re sooooooo beautiful together 😭😭

user4 i am so happy for them 😭😭

user5 all that’s left now is a mini russell running around🤍🤍🤍

user6 no because that’s all i can think about now 😭

user7 guys let’s not overdo it, they literally just got married 😭🥲

user8 how long are you guys staying?

yourusername two weeks!! 🤍 then i have to return him to mercedesamgf1 😒

mercedesamgf1 sorry 😅

lilymhe can i join? i’ll leave alex at home ☺️

yourusername yes

georgerussell63 no

alex_albon what did i do wrong?????

lilymhe nothing, dear. just circumstances

lewishamilton hope you two have a great time! keep him away from his phone 😂

yourusername he has very limited time allowed on his phone and what he can do on it 😁

georgerussell63 this is that time

yourusername use it well, babe. the clock is ticking

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[driverlando]

George getting turned on when you wear heels that emphasize your legs, especially with a cute little dress

You never expected that a simple pair of heels could have such an effect on George. It started innocently enough: a friend’s birthday party, an excuse to dress up, and the perfect opportunity to break out your new favourite heels. They were elegant, black, and gave your legs an elongated, shapely look that made you feel like you could conquer the world.

The dress you chose was playful yet classy, hugging your curves in all the right places and ending just above your knees. You felt confident, knowing the outfit was a winner. But it wasn’t until you saw George’s reaction that you realised just how much of an impact it had.

As you walked into the room, you noticed his eyes widen ever so slightly. George’s usual composed demeanor faltered for a brief moment as his gaze traveled from your legs up to your face. You felt a surge of confidence, a knowing smile playing on your lips.

“Wow,” George murmured, stepping closer. “You look… amazing.”

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant even as your heart raced. “It’s just a little something I put together.”

“Just a little something,” he repeated, a grin spreading across his face. His eyes lingered on your legs, clearly appreciating how the heels emphasized their length and shape. “Those heels… they suit you.”

You took a step closer, enjoying the way his gaze seemed to darken with every click of your heels against the floor. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “They make your legs look incredible.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, a thrill running through you. George had always been attentive and caring, but this new level of admiration was something different—something electrifying. You took another step, feeling bolder.

“Well, if you like them so much,” you teased, “maybe I should wear them more often.”

His hand found your waist, pulling you gently but firmly closer. “I wouldn’t mind that at all,” he said, his breath warm against your ear. “In fact, I might insist on it.”

[lovings4turn]

george russell , who always wakes you up with a steaming mug of tea or coffee , made exactly how you like it . george russell , who never leaves you without pressing a goodbye kiss to your forehead and lips . george russell , who not only knows the sidewalk rule , but heavily enforces it , absentmindedly guiding you to the inside of the pavement without a second thought . george russell , who never goes a day without showering you with compliments . george russell , who happily carries you home when your feet hurt (and doesn’t even tell you ‘i told you so’ when you insisted on wearing the wrong shoes for the occasion) . george russell , who never teases you without following it up with a wry smile and kiss to your temple , mumbling an ‘only kidding’ into your hairline straight after . just … george russell <3

[jamminvroomvroom]

Sylvie asking you and George for a sibling

tell the stork

GR63 x journo!reader

a drabble from the george fic universe

thank you for the request! i loved this <3 now if someone could request them actually having another kid… lol

warnings: none! fluff! a bit of suggestiveness here and there but nothing severe, mentions of pregnancy/trying for a baby, minors pls dni with my work!

“i can’t believe he’s having a boy,” you cooed at the screen of your phone. “a little brother for jack.” tears welled up in your eyes as you saw messages of congratulations fill up the family whatsapp chat, the news of your brothers new baby creating emotional waves.

“i just saw, the family needs another baby to spoil.” george laughed.

he was sat on the floor with sylvie, all of her toys spilled over the rug. the four year old was small but mighty, making sure her dad spent every second of the off season at her side, not that george would have had it any other way.

“why don’t i have a brother?” the little girl huffed, her small arms crossing as her mousy brown tufts of hair fell over her george-blue eyes.

you and george looked at each other. you’d talked about having another kid, but the timing had been awful. you supposed the off season wouldn’t be the worst time to give it a try.

“would you like a baby brother or sister, sylvie?” george asked your daughter, bowing his head down to meet her level.

“yes! i need someone to play with while you and mummy vroom.” she replied, oh so matter of fact, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. she was so self assured, just like her father.

“well, maybe me and mummy can work on it.” george said, tongue in cheek. you shot him a look of warning. he needed to reign in that kind of humour, sylvie was too smart for her own good.

“we can talk to the stork.” you butted in, george tipping his head back in silent laughter.

“tell the stork i want a sister. boys are icky.” sylvie scrunched up her nose and your heart melted. she was so precious.

“that’s my girl.” george stuck his hand up for a high five, which sylvie enthusiastically reciprocated.

“now, put your toys away, sweetheart, it’s almost dinner time.” your husband clapped his hands together, ruffling sylvie’s hair and she was off, a ball of energy as she hoovered up her teddies.

“so,” george raised an eyebrow, raking his eyes over your frame. “when can we get to work on baby number two?”

“cook dinner and i’ll clear my schedule?” you bargained sweetly.

“anything for you, my love.” he agreed, clutching his chest dramatically.

“i promise i’ll make it worth your while.” you teased.

“do i get to name this baby, too?”

“no! you named the last one! it’s my turn.” you stuck your tongue out at him and he leaned down to kiss you on the forehead, trudging to the fridge in defeat.

[silversainz]

Baby Russell - GR63

summary: baby Georgie's first time seeing his dad race

Warnings: ignore jack <3

,,,

Y/n/l/n

liked by LewisHamilton, Sebastianvettel, GeorgeRussell63, and 809,900 others

First time seeing his daddy race, he was a little nervous but enjoyed it so much 🥹❤️

tagged, GeorgeRussell63

view comments

Vettelkimi aww he's adorable 🥺

georgerussell63 my boy 🥰🥺

rayhamilton44 he looks so much like george

Mercedesamgf1 hope he enjoyed it ☺️

> y/n/l/n oh he very much did, was screaming and cheering the whole time for his dad 🥺🥰

LewisHamilton bring him by my garage sometime ☺️

> y/n/l/n sure thing uncle Lewis ❤️

view next post

Georgerusell63

Liked by y/n/l/n, LewisHamilton, Mercedesamgf1, and 999,999 others

what a great start to the season, my boy came to witness his first race and absolutely loved it, and Toto made him a little gift for his first kart race tomorrow ❤️

Tagged, mercedesamgf1, susie_wolff

view comments

Raylerlerc16 aww his lil Mercedes suit 🥺

Susie_wolff Toto and I hope he liked his gift and good luck on tomorrow 💕🤞

> y/n/l/n oh he absolutely loves his gift, still hasn’t taken it off ☺️🥰

> Georgerusell63 he also demands sleeping in it 😂

ashleclerc16 he’s so adorable

sainzz55 it was adorable how hard he was cheering for you

markkimi his little smile is so adorable 🥺

[ln444]

★ how does f1 drivers react when you call them pretty. . .

norris, piastri, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russell, verstappen

cw: fluff, slight suggestive (verstappen), f!reader.

now playing: pretty boy by the neighborhood

______________________________________________

✹ lando norris

lando would be the type to act annoyed but absolutely loves it. he just won't admit it but you know it.

"hey, pretty boy", you whisper against his lips, leaving a sweet peck on it just to be met with a pouty and flustered lando. "i told you to stop calling me that!" he whines, but deep down he hopes that you'll never stop. you look at him with a playful smile, softly caressing his hair. "okay, i'll stop if it makes you uncomfortable", you wait impatiently for his reaction and as you excepted, lando start to panic. "i mean... you can but you know... just not in front of other people", he laughs nervously, hoping that his excuse is good and his cheeks start heating up. you can't help but laugh softly, pulling him close by the neck and lando pouts again, "stop making fun of me!", your smile softens and you plant another kiss on his lips, "sorry, you're just too cute, my pretty boy". lando's cheeks are now completely red and he tries to hide it by pulling you in a long and warm kiss, feeling the butterflies going crazy in his stomach.

✹ oscar piastri

oh my god, please don't do this to him. as soon as he hears the word, his brain starts malfunctioning.

"you did so good!", oscar pulls you for a warm hug, holding you as tight as he can. he loves seeing you after races and hearing how proud you are of him no matter what he do. you pull out, staring at him like his eyes holds stars and oscar can't help but feel overwhelmed by all the adoration he sees in your eyes. you put your hand on his cheek, stroking it softly. "i'm so proud of you, my pretty boy" and even though you mean it, a hint of teasing can be heard and oscar groans, pulling you in a new hug to hide his face in your neck "if you call me that again, i think i'm gonna die" he mumbles against your skin. you laughs, one of your hands slides in his messy curls, your fingers playing with it. you will never get over how cute your boyfriend is when you call him pretty.

✹ charles leclerc

he absolutely loves it and won't deny it, even if he gets a bit shy when you call him pretty. he can't control it, his heart gets warm and the butterflies in his stomach goes crazy.

you were getting ready for a cute date and charles was wearing a new shirt, with flowers on it. as soon as he's ready, you lock your arms around his neck and you look at him with a big smile on your face. after planting a sweet peck on his lips, one of your hands cup his cheek. "you're so pretty, baby", your voice is full of adoration and honesty and charles' smiles gets wider. "thank you, chérie", he says softly and he immediately pulls you for a gentle kiss, hoping that you didn't notice the way his cheeks has redden, but you didn't miss it.

✹ carlos sainz

he loves it, like really loves it. he finds it funny tbh. and he won't hesitate to give the word back to you.

"woah, what a pretty boy", you look at him showing you his brand new haircut. he laughs, posing in front of you a little more before joining you on the sofa, pulling you on his lap and placing a kiss on your nose. "got pretty for my pretty girl, we are such a pretty couple", you both giggles before sharing a kiss, laughing and smiling against each other's lips. but, even if he doesn't want to admit it, carlos can feel his heart beating a bit faster and a sweet feeling in his stomach when he hears you call him pretty.

✹ lewis hamilton

he would get so shy, make it seems like he doesn't like it and it annoys him but he can't hide it for long, he always ends up with a big smile on his face and a heart beating faster than it should.

"ahhh, stop it y/n", he whines as you continue to leave kisses all over his face, sitting on his lap. "but, you're so pretty!", you say, cupping his cheeks to look at him in the eyes. he groans, acting annoyed by pulling you out of his lap and you try your best to fight the smile creeping on your lips. you both know that he's just flustered and wants to hide his red cheeks. "come on, baby, let me finish my kisses", he doesn't fight you when you climb back on his lap but he crosses his arms, trying to hold onto his character and you laugh softly, going back to leaving small pecks all over his face. it doesn't take long before he finally smiles, his hands finding your waist to pull you close and kiss you back. he just can't resist you.

✹ george russell

he always tries to ignore the way it makes him feel and act unbothered but he can't fight the way his body warm and a smile instinctively forms on his lips. he just loves getting praised by you.

"baby, can you pass me the knife, please?" you ask, preparing the vegetables and george, who has been helping and watching you cook for an hour now, hand you the knife as fast as he can. you turn to face him, placing your free hand on his neck to pull him close, "thank you, pretty boy", you says softly and he places a kiss on your lips, smiling softly "you're welcome" he says, trying to sound as neutral as he can and you pout, acting disappointed, "what? you don't like when i call you that?", you know that he do. you just want to hear it. he looks at you, a playful smile forms on his lips. "i know what you're doing", he chuckles and pulls you for another kiss. you end up both laughing, george's heart feeling full.

✹ max verstappen

he gets all nervous and doesn't know how to act anymore. like, if you want to make a mess of this man, just call him pretty.

max have been acting flirty all day, enjoying teasing you and seeing you all flustered in front of other people. you tried your best to keep your cool all day, playfully punching him from time to time or just laughing it off. but when you two end up alone at the end of the day, you're finally able to get your revenge. you start making out, getting more and more touchy and needy. "take off your shirt, pretty boy", you whisper in his ear, and max almost startle. a playful smile forms on your lips and you don't even have to look at him to know that his cheeks are now red. after a good minute of no reaction from him, you finally meet his eyes, giving him a confused look. "is everything okay?", you try to hide your teasing tone but max doesn't miss it, a playful grin finally forming on his lips and he chuckles; "naughty girl".

______________________________________________

[fastandcarlos]

Late Cravings : ̗̀➛ George Russell

summary: what baby wants, baby gets, even if she does want it at 3am, much to george's dissatisfaction

You barely managed to walk through the door before George appeared in front of you, his eyes were wide as his hands held onto your arms, studying you closely before closing the door. 

“George, at least let me get in,” you told him, being directed by his hold. “What’s going on? Why do you look so scared?” You questioned, sliding your shoes off and kicking them to one side. 

It was only once George stood still that you could see how nervous he looked. His heart was racing as he finally let you go, brushing his hand through his hair as he took a deep breath, taking a moment to pace and compose himself a little bit once again. 

The fear of stirring in the night and not feeling you there brought a terror that George had never experienced before. He had no idea where you were, terrified that one of his worst fears during your pregnancy had come true. 

“Where were you?” George frantically asked you, “what sort of person just gets up and leaves the house at three in the morning without telling anyone where you’re going first.” 

You felt guilty as you heard the panic that was still in George’s voice, encouraging him to take a seat beside you. Your hand rested against his leg, assuring him that you were there and that you were safe. 

Your free hand reached into your bag and pulled out what you had bought on your late-night adventure, with George’s eyes watching carefully to see many of the things you’d been craving in front of you. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about these and I knew I wasn’t going to sleep without getting my hands on them,” you told him, ripping open the packet of crisps you’d bought. 

“But I could have gone to get them for you, all you had to do was ask,” George groaned, staring across at you as you placed a crisp into your mouth, throwing your head back in satisfaction. 

The thought of waking George did cross your mind, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it, he was peacefully sleeping beside you and you didn’t have the heart to disturb him. 

“You were asleep and with how busy you are you need to rest as much as possible,” you told him,  I wouldn’t have gone if I didn’t feel like I was up to it George.” 

George’s head nodded, he understood where you were coming from, knowing that you wanted to remain as independent as possible, but even by his standards this was a stretch too far. 

“I could’ve sat in the passenger seat and slept,” he suggested with a smile on his face, “at least then I would have known exactly where you were.” 

“But you know where I am now, that’s the main thing, right?” 

George’s eyes narrowed on you, as safe as you were now, half an hour ago he was worried that it was going to be a whole different story. 

“I wish you’d tell me when you’re planning on giving me a heart attack,” George joked. 

“It’s all part of the fun,” you argued, resting your head down against George’s shoulder as you continued to eat. “You know I am just pregnant though George, I’m not incapable.” 

Whilst George was overprotective, you were a little carefree making the two of you a little conflicted. George wanted to know every last detail while you tended to not tell him much about what you were up to, confident you could still take on the world, even if George was a little more doubtful. 

“Maybe going out so early in the morning wasn’t the brightest idea,” you reasoned, much to George’s delight, “I suppose I could have sorted out my cravings in a little bit of a better way.” 

“I know how you get when you’re craving though,” George mused, “if there’s one thing that I know about you it’s that you definitely get whatever you want when you’re craving.” 

You nodded in agreement with him, you were determined with everything that you did, but now you were more determined than ever to do as much as you could for as long as you possibly could too. 

“I don’t mean to constantly be on your case,” George told you, kissing against the top of your head. “I need to remind myself to trust you more, to know that you know how far you can push your body.” 

“I wouldn’t do something if I couldn’t,” you assured, “and as much as you might not believe me, if I need help then I will ask you for it George.” 

The corners of his mouth slowly turned up, “I know you will, and I’ll always be there whenever you need me to step in and help you out.” 

“That’s why you’re such a fantastic husband.” 

You weren’t oblivious to how lucky you were to have George by your side doing absolutely anything that you needed. He was beyond excited to have a baby, wanting to do as much as he could to help both you and the baby out, maybe sometimes a little too much, although you knew George always meant well. 

“I draw the line at three in the morning,” George then spoke up, sending you a knowing glance. “It’s dark outside and you can’t see where you’re going. No craving can be as important as keeping you safe in conditions like that.” 

“I was driving and my lights were on.” 

“Still,” George sniggered, dismissing your protests. “From now on if you need anything in the night then you can shake and kick me awake, regardless of how sleepy I might look beside you.” 

Your eyebrows raised as George spoke, “I can kick you?” 

“That’s the bit you focus on,” George grumbled, rolling his eyes at you as you threw your crisp packet into the bin. “You got anything else in there, I’m hungry now after all the energy I’ve just exerted panicking for you.” 

“Are you pregnant and craving?” You asked him as his head shook. “In that case then you get nothing, these are mine and mine only.” 

You reached forwards and opened up the packet of sweets that you’d bought, taking one out. Luckily for George you reached across and popped one of the sweets into his mouth, much to his delight. You leant back against his chest as you started tucking in, his arm wrapping around you. 

Despite the way his heart had raced just a few minutes earlier, it was a lot calmer as George noticed the content smile now on your face. He knew that pregnancy was far from easy for you, trying his best to understand your mood and emotions as much as he could. 

“Maybe we should stock up on some of the things you crave,” George suggested, watching your eyes light up. “You know like how people how emergency rations; we could have emergency cravings.” 

“That might not be the worst idea,” you agreed, “but only if you agree that they’re for my cravings and not for you to keep tucking into.” 

“You know what my appetite is like, when there’s food in front of me then I’m probably going to eat it.” 

“Think of it like this, would you deny your child food if you ate the food that is kept in the cupboard for them?” 

“Oh wow, now that is the ultimate guilt trip.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[belqva]

— NO OTHER HEART ꪆৎ ˚⋅ [lando norris]

pairing: lando norris x reader

synopsis: you comfort lando after the events of the brazilian grand prix

word count: 0.8k

a/n: you know what they say the devil works hard but tumblr writers work harder! english is not my first language!! there isn’t much to say really the fic speaks for itself, I’m absolutely heartbroken for Lando 💔 as always my recs are open!

You step quietly from the bathroom, padding softly across the cool floor as you return to the hotel room you’re sharing with Lando. The evening Sao Paulo air hums faintly through the window, thick with the memory of a long, disappointing race. One night here before flying back to England, and it’s clear he’s wrestling with every second of it. The race weekend just… didn’t come together. Barely scraping into Q2, battling through a tough race, and ending P6 while Max took the win. His championship dreams seem to be slipping through his fingers like sand, fading at lightspeed.

You open the door gently, taking in the quiet expanse of the hotel room and finding Lando on the edge of the bed, his back to you, head buried in his hands. Tension radiates from him, heavy and unmoving, and it tugs at your heart.

Without saying anything, you step closer, placing a careful hand on his shoulder, light as a whisper. “Lan…” Your voice is soft, a thread in the quiet.

He lifts his head, meeting your gaze with an expression so blank, it’s like he’s hollowed out. No anger, no frustration—just this bleak emptiness that stirs something deep inside you. You sit beside him, keeping your arm wrapped around him, grounding him, holding him steady.

“Lando, I—” you begin, but he cuts you off, his tone edged with exhaustion.

“Please, I don’t want to talk about it.” He lets out a frustrated breath, and you feel his shoulder tense under your hand.

You turn to face him, gently coaxing his chin up to look at you. “Lando, I know you don’t want to talk. But ignoring it won’t make it go away.” Your words are quiet but firm, steady, because he needs that right now.

His gaze flickers, a brief flash of anger, though you know it’s not really aimed at you. “There’s nothing to fix, Y/N. It’s gone. All of it, because of my driving,” he snaps, the words tumbling out before he can catch them. His anger wavers, softening just at the edges, but it stings all the same.

You take a steadying breath, resisting the urge to match his frustration. Instead, you lean closer, voice gentle yet unwavering. “You don’t get it, Lando.”

He huffs, his tone almost mocking, almost defensive. “What don’t I get, huh? If you’re so smart, then explain it to me.”

The weight of his disappointment is heavy between you both, and for a second, you hesitate. But then you see it—behind the frustration, the anger, the shame. He looks like a kicked puppy, lost and vulnerable, and it breaks your heart.

“Lando, it’s not your fault,” you say, your voice firm but full of warmth. You feel him still, his eyes flickering as he processes your words. “It’s not. The team made mistakes, the setup wasn’t right. Yes, maybe you slipped up, but you gave it everything you had.”

He’s silent for a moment, staring down, lost in his thoughts. Finally, he mumbles, barely audible, “But it wasn’t enough.”

You take his face gently in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Listen to me, Lando. I will love you no matter what. Championship or no championship, none of that changes how I see you. I love you if you’re rich, if you’re poor, if you’re old, if you’re tired. None of this changes what you are to me.”

Your voice wavers, a rawness creeping in as your own emotions surface. “This hurts me as much as it hurts you. Seeing you like this, feeling this pain—I wish I could take it away. But this is motorsport, Lando. This is Formula 1. It’s brutal, and it’s unforgiving, and I know you know that.”

His lips part, his eyes glossing with unshed tears as he finally allows himself to feel everything he’s been holding back. The first tear slips free, tracing a line down his cheek, and you open your arms. He doesn’t hesitate—he just collapses against you, burying his face in your shoulder, gripping you like you’re the last solid thing in a world that’s crumbling around him.

You stroke his hair, the familiar scent of him filling your senses as you hold him, feeling his silent sobs shake against you. “I will love you, Lando Norris, no matter what,” you whisper, voice thick with emotion. “I need you to know that. You’re my anchor just as much as I’m yours.”

You both stay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the silence speak louder than words. You bury your face in his messy curls, and together, you grieve the almost-end of a season that held so much promise. But despite everything—the heartbreak, the frustration, the unfulfilled dreams—the love between you is fierce and unwavering, a light that refuses to go out.

And in this moment, with the world shut out, you’re two pieces of the same soul, holding each other up, finding strength in the love you share. Because even when everything else falls away, even when the races are lost and the dreams go unrealized, you’re here. And that’s all that matters.

© COPYRIGHT BELQVA 2024

SHARING THIS, ANY OF MY OTHER WORKS OR A TRANSLATION OF THEM WITHOUT CONSENT ON THIS OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN !!!

THIS IS JUST A WORK OF FANFICTION !!!

tags:

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ don’t cry at my wedding (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : charles leclerc x russell !fem reader

summary : the siblings realising that the sister has grown a little to much

tw : emotional, friends being chaotic!

fc: Martha Hunt *she is so pretty-*

a/n : thank you so much to @xshazxx for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by georgerussell, lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1, charlesleclerc and 67,937 others

mercedesomg Blondes do it better 🫷🏻

view comments

georgerussell do what better little miss sister ?

mercedesomg anything you would like to imagine 😗

user1 DO IT BETTER GURL 💪🏻

user2 blonde is really your color 📷

lewishamilton the color suits you !!

mercedesomg my favourite brother 🫶🏻

georgerussell EXCUSE ME WHAT !?

maxverstappen1 george is currently screaming gibberish in the lounge

carmenmmundt dw, omw to pick him up 🏃🏻‍♀️‍➡️

user3 the spain air hitting ✨

user4 it hit ferrari a little to hard

lilyhye I told you blonde was your color ✊🏻

mercedesomg well, thank you lily AND ALEX

alex.albon thank god you didn’t forget 👀

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, georgerussell and 94,237 others

mercedesomg running a mercedes powered account 🫶🏻💪🏻

view comments

lewishamilton you are disowned from the position of my sister

mercedesomg NO, lewis appreciation post coming up ! 🫶🏻

user1 MY EYES

user2 MY HEART

user3 MY BRAIN

user4 i love how she posted thirsty pics of the russells and a meme of lewis

mercedesamgf1 we stan this user 🙌🏻

liked by mercedesomg

georgerussell are you alright ? do you need to go the hospital ? you posting a good pic of me !?

mercedesomg shut up and accept it 🫷🏻

georgerussell also, why would you post a half naked picture of yourself !?

mercedesomg you are literally naked showing your tatas

user5 the russell siblings are literally kids every parent would dread to have

user6 imagine them fighting

landonorris you don’t want to see that

user6 LANDO REPLIED TO ME !?

lilihye i am blinded by the watermelons on my screen

mercedesomg LILY, BABE WE ARE IN PUBLIC, DON’T EXPOSE US

lilihye oh sheesh 🫢

user7 lili is us ✊🏻

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 178,937 others

f1wags The Russell sister is engaged !? or is it just part of her look !?

view comments

user1 now even wearing a ring is dangerous 💀

user2 bro it’s just a ring

user3 SHE IS ENAGAGED!?

user4 it’s literally just a ring, her stylist must have made her wear it !

user5 if she is engaged, i am stanning haas 🫷🏻

user6 you will regret it brother

user7 do we have any candidates for her beau ?

user8 Lewis ?

user9 you did not-

user10 oh lord, if she saw this

user11 LEWIS IS LITERALLY LIKE A BROTHER TO HER !

user12 Lili?

user13 possible 🫣

liked by charlesleclerc, lewishamilton, georgerussell and 357,285 others

mercedesomg I look better in red 🙌🏻🌶️

view comments

user1 I TOLD YOU Y’ALL ITS LEWIS

user2 mate 💀

user3 brother 💀

georgerussell did you just leave me and lewis for that short ass kid ?

mercedesamgf1 and toto

mercedesomg wait till you all see the username change 😗

user4 HOLD UP! WE MISSED A WHOLE CENTURY MISS !?

user5 SHE IS ENGAGED !? OH LORD, I have to stan haas !?

scuderiaferrari welcome to the family ❤️

mercedesomg aww, thank you 🥹

carlossainz55 it really does suit you!

liked by mercedesomg

user6 what is the username change !?

user7 END OF AN ERA 😭

landonorris charles, you did good

user8 for what 👀

user9 oh hell nah…

charlesleclerc i would prefer you looking nude ☺️

georgerussell MATE THATS MY SISTER

lewishamilton you better behave with her, future team-mate

charlesleclerc SHE IS MY FIANCE

charlesleclerc i see you lewis 👀

mercedesomg and i see you mr. leclerc, you are sleeping on couch

charlesleclerc WHY !?

lilihye bad choice charles

maxverstappen bad choice charles

landonorris bad choice charles

pieregasly bad choice charles

mercedesomg you spoiled my hard launch 😗

user10 SHE AND CHARLES !?

user11 talk about plot twist

liked by charlesleclerc, georgerussell, lewishamilton and 567,379 others

y/nleclerc It’s Mrs. Leclerc 🫷🏻

view comments

georgerussell * it will be

georgerussell Y/N THE USERNAME STILL HAS SOME TIME

charlesleclerc not for long 🤷🏻‍♂️

georgerussell she is still a russell 💪🏻

charlesleclerc do i smell jealousy ?

landonorris he is sulking about the idea of y/n getting married

maxverstappen1 now lando mentioned it, he is crying

lewishamilton now y/n is calling him and he is trying to act all ok

mercedesomg and now he is crying in front of me

georgerussell you all didn’t have to expose me like that

lilihye so happy for you both !!!

liked by y/nleclerc

arthurleclerc welcome to the fam sis!

liked by y/nleclerc

lewishamilton you grew up so fast, even i have tears in my eyes

y/nleclerc i will always be your little kid ❤️

comments on this post have been restricted

liked by lewishamilton, charlesleclerc, georgerussell snd 764,928 others

y/nleclerc To the brother I got from my mother and the one I got from Toto ( quite literally ), just so you both know, I will always be your little kid. Thank you for being there for me and giving me the reassurance that despite the numerous pranks snd fights, I can always to come to you both with crying eyes or my yapping mouth and you would always welcome me with a warm hug. Georgey, I grew up with you and I know I never say this much but I love you very much and am very proud of you, from your first podium in karting to your first win F1. Lewis, I first met you in 2019 when I was just a teenager and the first thing I asked you was for the picture ( I was meeting a f1 world champion, ofc I had to get a picture) but I didn’t know then that half my gallery would be filled with our pictures. Thank you for always being there like a brother, like a friend, like a mentor and like a punching bag ( that’s a story for another day ).

To both my brothers, I love you and just changing my surname won’t take me away from you ❤️ and you both know Charles pretty well, so if we have a fight, you both surely know who to run over 🫶🏻

comments on this post have been restricted

[chilling-seavey]

In The Middle (gr63 + pg10)

↳ A/N What came over me when I wrote this?? Nothing but a dire need to want content of my two favourite men in my favourite decade tbh. Entirely self serving but I hope you enjoy ;) Would love to hear your thoughts

↳ Summary: The summer of 1985 had your time filled with two handsome men who, with each, you had a non-exclusive friends-with-benefits relationship. They were completely unaware of the other’s existence in your life but that’s what added to the thrill. Once you faced a few close calls where they almost discovered your cheeky little secret, you decided to lay all your cards on the table and see if you could have the best of both worlds on the same night

↳ Pairings: Friends with Benefits!George x Fem!Reader, Friends with Benefits!Pierrex Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 31.5k

↳ Warnings: 18+, NSFW, drinking and intoxication, smoking, MMF threesome, double penetration, anal, protected sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), face fucking, male masturbation, fingering, finger sucking, spanking, spitting, face slapping, hair pulling, degradation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dumbification, nipple play, restraining, choking, edging, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation, taking pictures, subdrop.

London, 1985

“Fuck.” Pierre’s low breathless chuckle against your cheek fell warm across your flushed skin. 

Nestled in the crook of his arm amidst his tangled bed sheets, you reached a hand up to brush through the side of his frazzled hair and you pulled his lips onto yours for an off-centered kiss. With his arm around you, he gently rested his thumb against your jaw to guide you in again for more, easily parting your lips with his own to mould into sloppy tongue-led kisses. The sounds of your laboured breaths filled his warm bedroom, wrapped up together to linger on the last few seconds of your euphoria. 

“Holy shit.” you smiled out of his filthy kiss, turning your head to the ceiling straight above you and letting your hand rest on his chest, right over his rapidly beating heart. 

“Uh huh.” Pierre smirked, reaching his free hand up to rake his fingers through his hair. 

He was naked at your side and his sweaty skin was pressed right up against yours, limbs entangled in whatever twisted position you had both fallen into once you finished your usual routine of lust without love. It was textbook by then and after a few seconds to catch your breath, you were shifting under his arms and his bedsheets and sitting up. 

He easily let you get up and you traipsed across his bedroom floor to find your clothes that were scattered on various surfaces. You started to dress in the familiarity of Pierre’s poster lined bedroom, snatching your bra off his silver stereo that was sitting atop his dark wood dresser and finding your underwear on his window ledge. From his bed, Pierre watched you dress with his arms tucked behind his head and his sheets only barely covering his lap, his bottom lip captured by his teeth. His eyes followed you as you walked back and forth to find your clothes one article at a time and it brought a small smile to your face. 

“Take a picture,” you jabbed teasingly as you buttoned your jeans, “it’ll last longer.” 

“Don’t tempt me.” Pierre cocked his head in the direction of the small table beside his bed that held a Nikon camera at the ready. 

“Need I remind you of the various Polaroid pictures I have already given you?” you countered smoothly behind the fabric of your blouse as you pulled it over your head. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Pierre tisked, “You’re like my own little centerfold.” 

“Only yours,” you smiled back at him as you knelt up on the end of his bed and then crawled towards him. Then, as he held his hands out to you to guide you onto his lap, you added cheekily, “for today.”

Pierre’s mouth fell slack into a shocked and yet entirely amused gape and yet his blue eyes shone in the late night light of the city streaking in through his window, only breaking into a smile at the soft giggle that fell from your lips. His hands squeezed your hips before warning you lightly, his rich French accent stirring warmth in your stomach, “I don’t think after the way I had you screaming my name not even two minutes ago you have any right to claim that you’re not all mine, cherie.”

You just smiled down at him from your rightful spot on his lap and you pulled his face in for a few messy open mouthed kisses. After a few seconds, you pulled away from his lips and gave his cheek a little smack, “I gotta go.”

“Okay,” Pierre gave your bum another slap as you climbed off his bed, “Get the fuck outta here.”

You draped your purse over your shoulder and gave him another passing smile, “I’ll call you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

And then you let yourself out of his flat and out onto the night stained streets of London. 

It was a routine you knew well since running into Pierre that one spring afternoon in the downtown shops. He was a stranger then but one who matched your banter easily and had impeccable fashion sense and you found yourselves navigating the aisles and skimming through the racks together. He spoke about his job and how he moved to London from France for a job in the motorsports industry - sending words your way that you didn’t quite understand like ‘aerodynamics’ and ‘transmission’ - and he was trying to network with any of the local Formula 1 teams. It was all quite impressive, but maybe he had been laying it on a little thick. When he had finally invited you back to his flat for drinks, you had silently anticipated how the night was going to end. 

From that night on, it seemed that your every interaction ended with the two of you in a mess of sheets and sweaty limbs, either in his bed or yours (and the odd time in the back of his car). It all just seemed to work. He made it clear right off the bat that he was by no means looking for a relationship to which you easily agreed; no-strings-attached, no emotions, and completely non-exclusive. The two of you promised to keep your sexual encounters as nothing more than the fulfilling of a natural humanistic desire. And, God, was he good at it. 

You swore no other man could make you come as hard and as many times as Pierre could. 

Well, maybe no other man except for George.

George was your prized possession you kept in your back pocket, a sworn secret, and you counted your lucky stars that somehow you had run into each other because almost every girl in England - and maybe even all over Europe - would have killed to be in your position. 

The world knew him as one-half of the infamous Williams Formula 1 team, while the tabloids - and you - knew him as someone completely separate from the sweet smiled persona that he portrayed in interviews. Headlines were often plastered with various rumours of what George got up to behind the scenes; what girl did he have under his arm tonight? Surprisingly, none of the tabloids got their claws into the existence of you yet. 

You couldn’t even remember how you met George although you were sure it was that club in the depths of London that he always liked to pop by when he could. It was some heat-of-the-moment drunken night that ended up with you taking him back to your apartment until the early hours of the morning, the entire thing a bit of a haze. Neither of you ever really spoke to it either but somehow, when the time was right and he was between race weekends, you’d end up hooking up every chance you could. Oftentimes it was at your apartment (due to him still living with his parents when back in England, regardless of his high standing in the motorsports world) or - in rare cases - the bathroom of whatever club you were attending. You were sure he had other girls in other locations every time he would end up racing somewhere around the world but you didn’t mind it in the slightest. He kept coming back to you, after all. 

The summer of 1985 claimed to be your shameless era of this rotating duo of men at your door and you managed to balance them expertly. Although both relations were without the label of being exclusive, you still enjoyed the thrill of not telling one about the other. By mid-summer, you were probably getting dick almost every second night on a consistent basis, and you never felt better about it. It was a routine that worked effortlessly for all three of you to the point where it was almost easy for you to keep Pierre and George from being aware of each other. 

Pierre would often call you up one night to invite you over as his apartment seemed to be your usual go-to. It was often once he got home from work and needed some sort of distraction from the chaos of the day. He was definitely worth the trek to the adjacent neighbourhood. Pierre never called you over two nights in a row - he never wanted to look clingy and desperate, of course - but that just made for the perfect time to seek out George at his favourite downtown club. 

George would never tire of seeing you, even unexpectedly. He lived a more spur-of-the-moment lifestyle than Pierre and that reflected into your so-called relationship. He was more of the kind to just show up at your apartment unannounced, sunglasses on in some weak attempt to hide his identity from any passersby. 

That being said, maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised to see the lanky brunette leaning against the brick wall of your building when you turned the corner that evening. He was bathed in the warmth of the street light and it cast his long shadow across the sidewalk and onto the empty road. At the sight of you, he pushed himself away from the wall and tipped his sunglasses down his nose despite the late hour it was. 

“Hey.” he said coolly. 

“Hey yourself.” you answered with a faint smile as you drifted past him to the front door of your flat. 

“Where were you?” he asked. 

“Does it matter?” you countered cheekily, stepping up onto the front stoop to have a bit of height over him and you leaned on the stone railing. 

George shrugged, “No.” 

“I was out with a friend.” you fibbed before turning it back to him, “Have you been waiting out here long?” 

Another shrug, although his passiveness was brushed aside by the way he was staring at your lips, “Not really.” 

You obviously knew his intentions for being there and especially at such a late hour but after the few months you had known George, you came to realize the fun in the game of it all. Leaning into the railing a little more, you were even closer to him, tauntingly close, and his face naturally turned towards yours. 

“Well,” you whispered, eyeing the way he licked his lips as if anticipating your kiss, “you’re gonna be waiting longer. I’m too tired tonight.”

And then you stood up straight again and stepped up another stair as George sighed heavily and slumped against the stone railing. He stared up at you with playful disappointment but it was a game you both played well - it was the thrill of the chase. You found it fun to string George along a little - the race car driver who got everybody he pointed at - whereas you could never say no to Pierre. They were so alike in a lot of ways and yet so different all in the same. 

Your little fib wasn’t entirely a lie since Pierre really did wear you out that night and you couldn’t imagine putting out your best work for the second time in a few short hours…but George didn’t need to know that detail. 

“Come on,” George tisked and pulled his sunglasses off all the way to give you that sweet blue-eyed stare under the porch light of your building, “I came all the way out here.”

“And you’re going to be going all the way back.” you whispered down to him from two steps up.

You stared at each other for a few seconds before George sighed and retreated a pace or two, fiddling with his sunglasses in his hands. He glanced at you again, giving you a once over, as he slid a hand in the front pocket of his plaid trousers under the long matching jacket. That look he gave you was the same one he used on you to get you to take him home that first night, but you weren’t budging. 

“I’ll call you.” you told him the same thing you had told Pierre, keeping your proud upper hand. “You at Tramps tomorrow night?” 

At the mention of his usual club, George smiled to the sidewalk with a small shake of his head in disbelief, his soft brown curls dancing around the nape of his neck as he did so, before he was looking back at you, “Of course.” 

“‘Kay.” you took another step up, “Then I’ll see you there.” 

He watched you reach your door before calling out, “And what am I supposed to do tonight?”

Standing in the doorway of your modest building, you replied down to him with a cheeky smile that seemed to only get you into beautiful trouble, “You have those Polaroids I gave you. I’m sure you’ll think of something.” 

And then you disappeared inside, leaving him alone on the dark London streets. 

As usual and as promised, you picked out George in the crowded club the following night, amongst the haze of cigarette smoke and chaos of drunken strangers and thudding music. Having put him off the previous night, you didn’t waste a second before bee-lining right for him in the centre of the packed dance floor with sweaty bodies moving as a singular mass. You spent the better part of three hours together there, drinking and dancing, and wasting your time at a table out of the direct noise of the music kissing rather than talking. Sure, he had a public image to withhold, but when you got your hands on each other, it was to hell with that. 

It was nearing 2am when you finally stumbled out of the club together and out onto the eerily vacant streets of Northern London. A few other venues along the main roads housed little pockets of lively nightlife but outside of the drunken crowds, the world felt eerily silent. The ringing of your ears when faced with the silence out of the hours spent in the club was familiar and the alcohol in your veins had you a giggling mess as your non-exclusive ‘date’ had you backed up against the brick wall around the side of the building. 

You had mumbled something about asking if you should go back to your place as he trailed sloppy kisses down your neck and, in the haze that surrounded you, you could barely make out his slurred reply being something along the lines of your apartment being too far. But then suddenly you were walking up the front steps of his family home at 3:00 in the morning and he was hushing your drunken giggles as he unlocked the door and pulled you inside by the hand. This was uncharted territory. 

The black and white cat sitting on the stairs in the moonlight meowed at you on your way past but you paid no mind, trying to focus all your tipsy attention on not making too much noise and waking his family. Turning left at the top of the narrow staircase, George’s room was directly ahead and he led you inside quickly before shutting his bedroom door effortlessly silently as if he had been sneaking in late like this for months. 

His childhood bedroom felt almost too small for him at twenty-five and you swore his entire room was the equivalent of a closet, barely able to fit his single bed in the corner by the window and a small dresser by the one-door closet directly in front of the entry. The motorsports posters and photographs that covered the walls were not much unlike Pierre’s bedroom too although George had the addition of a shelf of karting trophies and various framed pictures from his race wins as a boy. That being said, the way he decorated his room was the least of your concerns as, like usual, your attention was taken to each other and the urgency that came with the ridding of clothes. 

In your clumsy, drunken, hazy state, you barely remembered the way the moonlight bathed the small room as you rode him on his narrow bed. His hand was clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet as you always had a tendency to get loud and this was no longer within the privacy of your apartment. His parents were asleep in the adjacent room at that, right through the thin wall that the bed was up against. 

The riskiness of it ended up being a perfect reason for George to smother your face in his pillow as he took you from behind, his hand tangled in your hair to pin you down face first so the uncontrollable whimpers that fell from your lips were muffled by the down-filled pillow. With your arms wrapped around it tightly, you gladly let him have his way with you, unbothered and unconcerned by the faint creak of the mattress and the obvious slick slap of your sweaty skin together. The wonder of how loud you actually got would be something to be dealt with the following day. 

You never usually stayed the night with either of your two guys - it was just easier to leave quickly to avoid the hassle of any lingering feelings or small talk. But, with it being nearly 4am and in an unfamiliar part of town now, your drunken and exhausted body ended up falling asleep in seconds under George’s arm, smushed up close in his small single bed. 

Come morning, a knock at the bedroom door startled you awake and George stirred from behind you, shifting under the sheets with a sleepy sigh against your shoulder and his arm stayed heavy around your middle. 

“Time to get up, pumpkin.” a lady’s voice said from the hallway, “You don’t want to be late today!” 

George rolled away from you - only slightly to keep from falling off the narrow bed - and he directed to the door, “Yeah, Mum, I’m up.” 

“I’m making breakfast when you’re ready!”

Her receding footsteps left the hallway and headed down the stairs and you giggled softly even as George groaned faintly and pulled his arm back to rub his tired eyes. 

You teased quietly, “Morning, pumpkin.”

“Fuck off.” he swatted your shoulder in half-annoyance before asking quietly, “Why are you still here anyway?”

“You let me stay, don’t you remember?” you tisked, shuffling over to face him instead of the wall, and you tucked your hands under your cheek, “What a shit host you are.”

“Alright-” he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling at your teasing. 

“I’m such a good fuck that it got you turning domestic or something.” you shrugged. “Wanted a little snuggle last night.”

George looked over at you close at his side, “I’d kick you to the curb right now if my family weren’t awake and around.”

You knew he was just playing and so you reached over to ruffle through his messy dark brown hair, “Momma doesn’t know her perfect racer son is bringing home groupies?”

George grabbed your wrist to stop you, reminding you seriously, “You’re not a groupie.”

With a stagnant smile across your face, you just stared at him and let your hand settle down against his bare chest, “What am I then?”

He kept your eye contact for a few seconds before finally answering, “A really great friend.”

“Emphasis on really.” you chuckled. 

“Yeah,” George laughed lightly, “Such a lovely pal.” 

“Best buds.” you added. 

The two of you were still laying right up close together with how small his bed really was, legs a little intertwined and arms having no choice but to go around bodies in the limited space you had. Your hushed conversation was easier in such close proximity - especially as you could hear his father walking around in his room through the wall. You certainly didn’t want to get caught. 

“Are you back at Tramps tonight?” George asked you, as if he were already impatient to hook up again even before you left.

“I might. Will you?”

“Yeah. After Silverstone.”

“Oh, right, that’s today.”

“Yeah, and we have to be at the circuit an hour early for additional preparations. Anything to try and get a win. We haven’t won once this year yet.”

“I’m sure you will today.” you assured him easily. 

George couldn’t answer you before the footsteps coming up the stairs captured his attention and with speedy reflexes and a very strong awareness of his immediate family, he pulled the blankets right over you just as his mother came walking right in. 

“Mum, do you ever knock?” he snapped. 

She ignored him with a casual, “I just finished ironing your suit for today. I don’t want you creasing it before you have to go so please be cautious.”

“Okay.” George huffed, bunching his sheets to try to make it look like it was only him in his tiny bed as he watched her hang his plaid suit and matching trousers on the hook on the back of his door, “Thanks.”

“Who were you talking to?” she asked. 

“Myself.” he answered stiffly, “Bye.”

“Alright, alright. Hurry up, now.”

At the sound of the bedroom door closing again, George removed the sheets from over your head and you bit back your grin at him at the close call. 

But he just rolled his eyes with a huff and pressed the heels of his palms to his forehead, “I seriously need my own flat.”

George managed to sneak you out while his family was busy sitting down for breakfast in the dining room, giving you the chance to hurry down the stairs together and he ushered you right out the front door. You just managed to give him a fleeting kiss and a whispered wish of good luck before his father was calling for him from across the quaint house. Without a look back, you walked down his driveway in last night’s dress with your heels in your hand, turning the corner onto the sidewalk to head for the train station in the centre of his neighbourhood. 

It wasn’t long before you were back in your building and as soon as you unlocked your front door and stepped inside, your attention was drawn to the ringing of your phone. You hurried to shut your door and your keys and shoes were dropped on the kitchen counter on your way towards the corded phone on the wall. Snatching the receiver off the hook, you answered with a quick, “Hello?”

“Hey,” the voice replied, crackling slightly through the connection, “It’s Pierre.” 

He usually called you but this time it managed to take you by surprise, especially since it was morning and he only ever called after work. Not to mention you had just returned from George’s in last night’s dress in some sort of walk of shame, desperate to keep your secret as your second lover called so unexpectedly. The recent overlaps between your two men were getting a little too close for comfort. 

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked. “You don’t usually call this early.”

“I came by your place last night but you weren’t home.”

“Oh? Sorry, I was out with a friend.” you half-fibbed, resting back against your counter, “I didn’t expect you to want to see me two nights in a row.” 

Pierre chuckled softly through the phone and the warm, low sound had your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He countered your statement smoothly, “Why not?”

“It’s not your usual routine. I’d like to think I know you well enough by now.” 

“I didn’t think I had a usual routine.” 

“You do. And you never just drop by. What changed last night then?”

“Well, I was in your neighbourhood and I couldn’t stop thinking about the other night so I thought I’d try my luck and stop by and see if you were available.” 

“I see.” you smiled across your kitchen, “You were thinking about me that much?”

“Oh, come on.” Pierre laughed lightly, “Don’t be coy. You know very well that I think about you a lot. You make it very difficult to not think about you.”

You pursed your smiling lips and pressed your luck, “Well, what exactly were you thinking about?”

“Look at you; wanting the dirty details at not even eleven in the morning.” he tisked through the phone. “I don’t think I want to tell you after you basically stood me up last night.”

“Oh, please!” you laughed, “You can’t call it ‘standing you up’ when we didn’t even have plans. Should my days and nights revolve around waiting by the phone for you, Pierre Gasly?”

“Oui.” he answered cockily, the smile evident in his gentle voice, “Don’t I make it worth it?”

You sighed at the steamy memories that flashed before your eyes and the thoughts of the previous night with him lingered at the forefront of your mind too, smiling through your answer, “Yeah.”

“I can make it worth it tonight too, if you’re available.” 

“Mhm?” you turned to lean forward over the countertop on your elbows, falling into a lustful haze over what he was insinuating. But then the awareness that you had already promised George your attention that night halted your dreamy state before you could get too ahead of yourself. Your eyebrows narrowed for a moment in thought as you stared at the kitchen backsplash, debating your options, torn between two. 

Pierre spoke in your silence, “Is that a yes?” 

You played a little hard to get with him, loving the game and the chase that came along with it, “Are you not at work right now?”

“I’m alone in the lunchroom. Had to sneak away to call you…think my balls might explode if I don’t fucking see you tonight.”

“This sounds like blackmail.”

“Just the truth.” he teased, “Miss you so bad. Miss your body so bad.”

“Is that so?”

“Let me see you. I’ll make it so worth your while.”

You liked playing a little hard to get but you knew that regardless of what you said or did, by the end of it, you always managed to get what you wanted. You stayed silent for a brief moment, pondering, offering him a soft ‘hm’ in thought that had him sighing exasperatedly through the phone. The idea that rose in your mind brought a sly smile to your face and you twirled the spiraled phone cord around your fingers as you offered to him, “Did you want to come to the club with me tonight?”

“Oh- yeah, that could be fun.” Pierre answered, slightly taken aback by your suggestion to spend time with him outside of bed. 

“Yeah?” you licked away your grin, “Should we say 9:30 then? Tramps…do you know it?”

“Yeah, a few of my mates have been to that joint. They say it’s good.”

“It is.”

“I can stop by your place for 9:30 and we can head over together if you want rather than meeting there.”

The flutter in your heart was unfamiliar and you rubbed your palm across your chest to try and ease it as you answered him casually, “Sure, okay.” 

“Alright.” Pierre’s smile was obvious in his voice, “Wear something sexy.”

“Why? So you can take it off me later?”

“If you’re good.”

“Aren’t I always?”

He chuckled lowly, “See you tonight.”

You closed your eyes to try and picture his smile in your mind, him standing at the phone in the lunchroom of his job, only wanting to talk to you and no one else. There was no way you were deprived by any means and yet you still craved him so strongly from just hearing his voice and his risqué little confessions. You could never be completely satisfied for any longer than the duration of one of your nights together with either young man - you were constantly wanting more. Maybe more was what you were striving for in your fleeting spur-of-the-moment idea to invite him to the club that George was expected to be at that very same night. In a breath, you answered him softly, “See you.”

This was either your craziest or best idea yet. It was still undecided. Even as you walked down the stairs into the crowded club with Pierre at your side, a sliver of your mind was worried that this would go all wrong and you’d end up without either of them. You just had to remind yourself that both pairs of you had agreed to not be exclusive. You were doing nothing wrong. 

You passed your jackets over to the coat check clerk before following the music through the archway into the main space of the club, guided by the neon lights that were designed in swirling patterns across the ceiling. The loud music was familiar to you, rattling the worn walls of the London underground club and the floor buzzed with the motion of dancing strangers. Your hand naturally fell into Pierre’s as you weaved your way through the crowd towards the bar to get your first drinks of the night. You started with a shot each and then ordered your normal drinks - and he paid for both, even though you insisted otherwise. It wasn’t a date, after all. 

Nursing your glasses, you found yourselves an empty bar table and Pierre spoke about his work a little and the ongoing projects, keeping the talk surface level and light since you never met up for in-depth conversations. That wasn’t about to start then and there, that was for sure. Once you finished your first drinks and he returned to your table with refills for the both of you, you let your eyes skim the crowd as you sipped. 

“So how often do you come here?” Pierre asked loudly over the upbeat music, standing close to you at one of the small round standing bar tables. 

“About twice or three times a week.” you answered without looking at him, your attention too focused on skimming the dimly lit moving crowd for any sign of that long brown hair as you cuddled the cold glass in your hand. 

“How’d I not know you were such a socialite?” 

You finally looked at him and answered smoothly, “I mean usually when we’re together, not much chit chat is going on.”

Pierre chuckled faintly behind a sip of his own drink before licking his lips and agreeing, “I suppose that’s true.”

“Do you dance?” you asked. 

“Huh?” he leaned in closer to hear you over the music. 

You set a hand on his shoulder to ask again closely, “Do you dance?”

“Not well.” he replied. 

“Me neither.” you laughed before setting your glass down in exchange for a grasp of his arm, “Come on.”

Pierre put his drink on your table alongside yours and let you pull him into the chaos of the dancefloor. You were familiar with some basic moves but it wasn’t very difficult to just let the music move you. No one cared how ridiculous you might have looked - they were all too drunk to care anyway. So you held Pierre’s hands and you shared a small part of the dancefloor together, moving and grooving to the upbeat funky songs. 

You spun around together, almost tripping over each other with what unskilled dancers you were, but it was a mess of enjoyable glee and as Pierre tugged you closer by your waist, you let yourself fall into him. Your arms slung around his shoulders and his hands greedily rubbed down your waist and over your ass, ignorant to the strangers pressed up around you as your lips were drawn together without second thought. Still swaying to the music together - more than lucky you weren’t stepping on each other’s toes in the process - you made out filthily in the middle of the sweaty and crowded club. 

Bumping and dancing strangers knocked into you but you weren’t fazed, tangling your fingers in the back of his hair to pull him closer to taste more of his tongue in your mouth and the light scruff of his facial hair against your cheeks. He held you against his chest in a familiar embrace - a practiced dance of your own - and you felt the faint vibration of his moan into your kiss behind the rhythm of the music that surrounded you. You sucked on his tongue with insistent desire between sloppy kisses, hands all over bodies among sweaty strangers and, for a moment, you forgot that you were waiting on George to arrive.

“Putain,” Pierre swore as he broke away from your kiss with a tilt of his head and a heavy sigh, “I wanna take you home already.”

You giggled and leaned in to kiss him some more, sharing a few more impolite open mouthed kisses before pulling away again to answer him, hands sliding down his chest, “We just got here though. We don’t want to leave just yet.”

Pierre stared at you down the bridge of his nose, pressed up close to you in the middle of the crowded dancefloor, and his expression was shadowed by the horrible club lighting and the dancing streaks of neon light that rained down from the ceiling, but you could read the desire on his face so easily. His hands slid up your waist and down your forearms, licking away the taste of you from his lips as he pitched, “Wanna go to the bathroom?”

“No.” you answered, “I want to make you wait for it.”

Pierre laughed humorlessly, “You are unbelievable.” 

You soon found yourselves back with your drinks and migrated to a table with chairs to rest your feet after your attempt at dancing. Your legs were tossed over Pierre’s lap, draped down between his thighs, and his hand rested on your thigh almost too high up in your public setting. If you were any other girl, he’d be way past annoyed at your stringing him along and he would have long since left by now - but you were no other girl. You always made his patience worth it. 

Although your attention was focused on Pierre, you couldn’t help but glance across the crowd every now and then, silently awaiting your second guest. But it turns out Pierre was unexpectedly ahead of you at that. 

“That guy keeps looking over at us.” he nodded his head towards the bar. 

You turned your head in the direction of the bar, looking through the less dense section of the crowd on the margins of the club, only to land your eyes on the lanky brunette leaning against the bar top on his elbow. He was in a white button up and those plaid suit pants that his mother ironed for him that morning, his gaze unwavering in your direction. 

Clueless Pierre spoke again, “Oh, no way. I think that’s one of the guys from the Williams team.”

You played coy, “You think?”

“Yeah. I know what the drivers look like. I swear that’s him.”

You didn’t answer his rambles or acknowledge the way his thumb rubbed along your thigh, too busy making eyes at George across the club, your teeth sunken into your bottom lip to try and hide your forming grin. 

Pierre kept going, snapping his fingers on his other hand, “Not Rosberg…what’s the other guy’s name?”

“Russell.” you answered without thinking. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s it.” Pierre nodded without taking his eyes off the man in the corner of the club, “I swear he’s staring at us.”

This was your perfect segue, “Want to meet him?”

Before Pierre could ask, you were already standing up and grabbing his hand to pull him to his feet after you. He tried to protest but his words were whisked away by the noise of the music and the crowd and you dragged him along the outskirts of the dancefloor to finally fall to a stop at the bar. George’s eyes followed you shamelessly, his flat expression unreadable, and he eyed you up and down once you stood beside him. 

He was resting on his right arm on the bar, his left hand housing his drink, and you stood in front of him with Pierre just a step behind you. You couldn’t help but feel like you were nearly buzzing from a strange mix of nervousness and excitement and as George lifted his drink to his lips to sip, waiting for you to speak first, Pierre shifted in place. 

“Hey.” you greeted coolly. 

“Hello.” George replied with a slight cock to his head, “Who’s this?”

Pierre sensed the slight tension from the moment you approached the young man at the bar and he stayed a step behind you as if shielded by your confidence. But you were unfazed as you turned slightly so your back was facing the bar and you could easily look between them, “George, this is Pierre. Pierre, George.”

Like professionals, they reached out to shake hands briefly before George was speaking more to you than anyone, “You know, when you asked me if I was coming tonight, I figured it was because you wanted to see me.”

You rested your elbows behind you on the bar top, “I am seeing you now, am I not?”

George’s eyes flicked away from your face to look at Pierre, “I suppose.”

Pierre’s expression furrowed for a moment as he processed the strange encounter going on amongst you three and, if nothing else, the way George stared at you was somewhat of a dead giveaway. He looked at you too and you glanced between them innocently, waiting for one of them to talk first. 

Pierre took the initiative, “So, how do you know each other?”

“We met here, actually.” George answered for you, speaking loudly over the music of the club, “Few months ago.”

Pierre nodded and lifted his drink to sip from. 

“And you?” George asked. 

“At the market a few weeks back…got talking…” Pierre drifted his gaze to you again as he pushed the boundaries around this stranger with a small sly smile, “then there wasn’t much talking going on after that.”

You gave his arm a playful swat, unaware of the way George’s eyebrows raised at the comment behind a long sip of his drink. 

“So you’re sleeping together?” he asked bluntly, setting his empty glass on the bar. 

“Yeah.” Pierre answered, almost protectively. 

George’s gaze snapped right to you at that answer, expression almost offended and completely surprised. 

You merely giggled and lolled your head to the side as you stared back at him, “What’s with the dagger eyes, George? Come on…not like I’m the only girl you’re seeing.”

Pierre’s head turned quickly to you as well, “You’re sleeping with him too?” 

“Yeah, so what?” you looked at him, “We said we’re not exclusive.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Pierre shifted in place, his words fading out.

The guys looked at each other at the same time and you glanced between them and their unreadable flat expressions under the neon stained shadows of the loud club. They stood on either side of you, George a few inches taller than his counterpart, both just as equally close to you, and it almost felt surreal being with them at the same time. Your heart was racing in your chest and nothing had even happened. 

“Who else?” George finally broke your silence amidst the noise. 

“Just you two.” you shrugged innocently, laughing faintly, “I’m not that much of a slut…damn.”

“And you asked us both to come here to meet you for what reason exactly?” Pierre questioned, leaning his left arm on the bar beside you, head cocked to the side expectantly. 

You licked away your grin and looked away from the both of them to face forward towards the dancefloor almost shyly, not quite wanting to speak your idea out loud. So instead, you shrugged, and scuffed the toe of your shoe on the concrete floor despite your smile, George’s black loafers on your left and Pierre’s black sneakers on your right. But with you not looking at them, the guys shared sly glances and knowing smirks at what your shy silence was insinuating. 

Pierre’s hand on your face startled you slightly and he took your cheeks in his hand to pull your face in his direction so you could look at him, and he ordered you seriously, “Say it, cherie.”

George stepped closer at your side and brushed your hair over your shoulder before dragging his finger down your neck to raise shivers across your skin in his wake, “We’re listening. What do you want?”

You shifted in place, biting your bottom lip as you stared into Pierre’s eyes under his hand, confessing behind the thudding music of the club, “I wanted to take you both home tonight.”

“To do what?” George pressed. 

Pierre’s grip loosened on your cheeks so you could look at George instead as you answered him, “So you can fuck me.”

“This was your whole game, huh?” Pierre taunted, “Luring us here just to corner us into a fucking three-way?”

“Do you not want that?” you looked back at him. “Because I can just take George here home instead.”

Pierre frowned and responded quickly, “No, no. Don’t do that. This could be…fun. And I’m not passing up my opportunity for a night with you.”

You turned to George, “And you?”

“Yeah, what the hell.” he shrugged with a smirk, “Haven’t done this kinda thing since Monte Carlo in ‘83. About time I give it another go…and with the loveliest girl in London at that.”

“No need to butter me up, George. I’m already set on taking you home tonight.” you chuckled. 

George was always one who knew what he wanted and who got what he wanted, so he didn’t even hesitate before grabbing your chin in his hand to pull your lips on his. He had been waiting for it all day, after all, and your teasing was only making him that much more impatient. Not to mention seeing you nestled up with another man only to find out it was all a part of some sick little fantasy of yours. Who could blame him for not being able to keep his hands off you for a second longer? 

Pierre shifted at your other side, looking away from your kiss at first to scan the crowded dance floor instead behind a sip of his drink, but then he was looking back at the two of you, figuring he was going to be seeing a lot more as the night progressed. So he let himself watch for a moment under the flashing neon lights of the club, eyes lingering on the hint of another man’s tongue helping itself to your mouth and the way your fingers tangled in the soft waves around the nape of his neck, pulling him into you. Then, Pierre was nudging your arm, urging you away from your kiss.

“Come on,” Pierre tossed back the last of his drink before setting the glass on the bar top, “let’s get our jackets and get the fuck outta here.”

“Meet you on the street.” George said, letting you slip out of his grasp, “Just gotta find my mates and tell them I’m leaving.”

George disappeared into the crowd to find his other driver friends whom he had come with while Pierre led you by the hand to the coat check. He stood almost protectively at your side, much closer than was even required in the tightly packed club, and when the attendant passed you your jackets, Pierre helped you drape yours over your shoulders. The refreshing nighttime air of downtown London filled your lungs as you stepped out onto the sidewalk and Pierre moved towards the curb to call a cab. Although it was still summer, the evenings had a tendency to get a little chilly and you were thankful for your jacket as you waited for your taxi and the third member of your little group. 

Even without the thudding of the loud club music, your heart was still pounding against your ribcage, in near disbelief that your plan was headed into full swing. One look at either of them and you were burning with desire, already way ahead of yourself. In the privacy of the darkened city street, any passersby too drunk or distracted to pay any mind, you slid a hand down over the front of your skirt to press against your aching cunt. 

A figure sauntered up beside you and you didn’t need to look to know it was George. He eyed you for a second before speaking, “Haven’t even left the premises and you’re already touching yourself. Haven’t even laid a hand on you yet and you’re already touching yourself.”

You took your hand back to fold your arms across your chest, glancing over at him playfully, “Shut up.”

His finger was hooked in the back of his jacket that was tossed over his shoulder, looking so casually suave as the nighttime breeze ruffled through his brunette waves. He stared at you right back, big blue eyes hazy in the neon light of the club’s exterior signage above you, and you looked away first just as the taxi pulled up to the curb. 

“Merde. Finally.” Pierre yanked open the back door and gestured the two of you over, “Come on.”

George walked around the opposite side as you climbed into the middle seat, forcing you to be sandwiched between the two men as Pierre got in behind you. The two rear doors were closed, sealing you all in, and you leaned forward to tell the driver your address. When the driver pulled away from the curb and you settled back in your spot, both Pierre and George were looking at you. You couldn’t deny the sly little grin that was inching across your face and although it was exactly what you wanted, to be squished in the back of a cab with the two of them together, you couldn’t help but feel a little shy. 

Pierre set his hand on your thigh, just above your knee, and he teased at the hem of your skirt with his fingertips, “Cat got your tongue now, cherie?”

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you this quiet.” George added from your other side, trailing his index finger down the length of your arm. 

You were so attuned to the both of them there and everything felt warm. Your hands were folded on your lap but you slowly unclasped them to set one on George’s leg and then one on Pierre’s, not straying much farther than just above their knees as you answered them softly, “I’m just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” George pressed, his blue eyes nearly analysing your profile expressionlessly, and his finger reached up to ghost over your jawline. 

Your hands slid a little farther up their legs and Pierre’s other hand wrapped around your wrist to caress your forearm as you answered, “Tonight. What we’re gonna do.”

“Whatever you want to do.” Pierre replied coolly. 

“Where’s the fun in me telling you what to do?” you countered in a fit of bravery, glancing over at him with a smile you tried to bite back. 

Pierre’s eyes flicked past you to exchange a silent glance with George and then you, too, looked at George. 

“You both know my limits.” you continued quietly, trying to not be overheard by the taxi driver as you glanced between them again, “And I can always say stop.” 

“You really just want us to have our way with you, don’t you?” George’s eyebrows raised in amusement. 

“Fucking slut.” Pierre added from your other side. 

You licked away your grin as you face forward again, staring straight out the windshield at the passing streetlight stained blocks of London that passed you by. Your hands gave their thighs a little squeeze but didn’t spare them another glance. In your peripherals, you could see the way the two of them looked at each other across you as if sharing silent conversation and then suddenly, their conversation was verbal. 

“Is she always this easy for you?” George asked him like you weren’t even there, despite the way his fingertips danced across your knee and teased under the hem of your skirt. 

“Usually.” Pierre answered almost proudly, “You seem surprised.”

“She tends to make me work for it a little more. She just loves the chase. Plays coy.”

“Kinda like now…wanting to see just what we’ll do to her despite all the ways she has probably already imagined this?”

“Mhm,” George’s hand slid farther along the inside of your thigh although you kept your knees tightly together, “A plan like this certainly doesn’t come to fruition in only an evening.”

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you kept your stare straight ahead, playing clueless to the way they talked about you, got acquainted, and the way they caressed your thighs and slowly inched up your skirt just enough to tease you. 

George finished his statement, “She’s definitely been thinking about it for a while.”

Pierre’s hand helped itself up your skirt, his slender fingers sliding between your legs to knead at the tender flesh of your inner thigh, tainted by the warmth of your body and the lust that grew within you as he spoke lowly, “Looks like she’s finally getting what she wants.”

You couldn’t help but look down towards your lap to get a glimpse at how their hands disappeared up your skirt. They weren’t doing much as of yet but their warm, purposeful caresses of your thigh had you burning for them more and more, feeling like if they didn’t touch you soon you might have been sick from the anticipation. So you parted your knees slightly, just enough to give them the hint that you were theirs to touch if they saw fit; that it was exactly what you wanted. 

Although they noticed your move, they didn’t give into you right away. Pierre’s warm chuckle from your right had you licking your lips as you stared at their hands in your lap and he spoke across you to George, “I think she wants more.”

You couldn’t help the playful “shh” you habitually replied with, shifting in place under their hands. 

“She’s already squirming for it.” George added, his eyes focused on your face. 

They spoke quietly so as to not be heard by the driver, sharing whispers past you back and forth as their hands caressed your thighs and his fingers teased your most sensitive spots without giving into your lustful desires completely. George leaned in and left a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw, so gentle that you could feel yourself throb up your skirt, and you shifted again to try and lessen the ache that grew inside you. He kissed you again a little farther down your neck as his palm rubbed down your thigh to your knee and right back up before giving your flesh a tender squeeze. 

Pierre leaned in on your otherside, leading with his tongue right up the side of your neck to the sensitive spot just below your ear. The shiver that it caused had the both of them breaking into sly smirks that you could feel against your skin. A few more kisses from the both of them and you were arching against the leather seat of the taxi with a soft huff to try and shift away from their ghostly touches, closing your legs again tightly as your fingers grasped at the fabric of their pants on either side of you.

“She can barely handle this.” Pierre chuckled lowly.

“Look at her.” George tisked from your other side, “Can hardly contain herself.”

“I can’t wait to see how she looks when we both get inside her at the same time.” 

Pierre’s blunt statement had you biting your lip harder, attention darting over to him. He was sitting so closely at your side that when you turned your head to look at him, your noses were almost touching and you could feel his breath. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears. The world felt like an alcohol-induced crazy dream.

“Is that what you want?” George asked from your other side, drawing your gaze over to him on your other side, “You want us both inside you? Is that why you cornered us out here?”

You nodded.

“Say it. Say that you want us both inside you at the same time.”

You couldn’t speak for a moment with how stunned you were, dumbly staring at him like a deer in headlights. George’s hand lifted from your lap to wrap around your throat, his lips only millimetres away from yours, capturing you in place. 

“We’re not going to do what you want if you don’t obey us.” Pierre told you sternly from your other side. 

Pierre spoke so closely but your gaze was locked on George’s big blue eyes, held in place by his hand around your throat, and you licked your lips faintly just as the taxi pulled up outside your apartment building, in perfect time for you to answer them in a hushed whisper, “I want you both inside me.”

Pierre’s hand slid further up your inner thigh and he gave you a proud squeeze, “Good girl.”

You followed Pierre out of the taxi as George tossed a few bills at the driver for payment before he was following quickly after the both of you. You waited for him at the steps of your building, making sure both of them were within arm’s reach before you were letting yourself into the elevator lobby bathed in the fluorescent flickering light across the ceiling. 

Waiting for the elevator was near torturous as you three knew that you must remain composed while still in such a public setting regardless of the fact that there was no one around at such a late hour. Regardless, you were all too attuned to the feeling of them standing so close on either side of you as if they were guarding you, claiming some sort of protection over you, and your insides stirred with imagination of what was waiting for you once you got upstairs. 

Even in the elevator, the tension was cramped amongst you in the tight space. You could feel the heat of their bodies against yours, the fabric of their clothes, and their fingers trailed over your hips, your arms, your neck, as if testing the waters of where they were wanting to touch you. It was shiver worthy, addicting, making your heart thud against your ribcage in lustful anticipation. 

The key was nearly trembling in your hand as you unlocked your apartment door, so aware of the two men standing beside you that you almost forgot how to properly function. All you wanted was them as if it was your only reason for living at that moment. The door couldn’t close behind the three of you fast enough. 

Your darkened apartment was lit only by the street lights streaking in through your living room window, leaving the three of you amongst shadows as you nearly tripped over each other farther into the apartment. Your purse was dropped aimlessly on the kitchen counter with your body facing the both of them as they moved in towards you like you were prey. As your back hit the edge of the counter, you were trapped between it and them and your hands naturally reached out to grab onto the front of their shirts to guide them closer, nearly sharing breaths through slightly parted lips as your gaze flicked between them. 

You had this whole idea for how you were going to get them in the same vicinity but it was apparent that was as far as you got within your planning. What the hell were you supposed to do now? Who was going to make the first move? As much as you loved feeling both of them so close to you, you were completely unaware as to what your next step was. This was entirely new uncharted territory. 

“God, look at you,” Pierre’s hand raised to the side of your face and the pad of his thumb ghosted across your parted lips, “you’re so fucking clueless.”

George took his jacket from where he was holding it over his shoulder still and he dropped it onto the counter beside you as he spoke, “Dumb little girl couldn’t even fully develop her plan before diving right in.”

They knew you too well. They could both read you like a fucking book. It was obvious that you could hold no secrets with either of them and this was only the living proof. Habitually, affected by the control they so easily held over you, you tugged at the front of their shirts a little harder, forcing them a half step closer towards you until you were completely sandwiched back against the edge of the counter. Everyone was so close together and you only had to turn your head a microscopic amount to look between them, feeling their breaths on your face and their eyes drinking you up in your darkened apartment. 

Pierre, George, Pierre, George, Pierre, George- How were you supposed to choose who got the first ounce of your attention? 

Pierre, with his hand still holding your face, took that responsibility himself as he grew tired of the lingering tension and pulled your lips on his. You melted into him so easily, eyebrows furrowing a moment as you fell into his familiar kiss, and right away he was parting your lips with his own to introduce a hint of tongue. You let go of the front of his shirt to grab the back of his neck instead to make him kiss you harder while still keeping George’s nicely ironed shirt under your insistent grip. 

Without the distraction of his jacket anymore, George’s hands were focused only on you, sliding up your sides of your perfectly tailored dress as he watched you kiss another man right in front of him. Your fingers twisted in the soft fabric of his shirt and when you broke away from Pierre for a moment, your head was naturally turning towards George instead and he moved with you without instruction, taking your lips with his effortlessly. 

Pierre’s hand moved from your face to the back of your neck as if guiding you into kissing another man. His eyes analysed your every slight motion and was attuned to even the faintest little moan you let slip into George’s mouth when his tongue met yours. Your apartment was a silent harmony of your shared heavy breaths and deepening wet kisses, accentuated only by the sound of faint brushes of hands over clothes. So innocent, so tempting. 

Pierre was always the bossier of the two as you had come to realize over the months of sharing late nights with each of them so he didn’t hesitate to grab your chin and force you away from George when he was ready for a turn of his own. You barely had a second to lick away the cocky smile on your face before he was shoving his tongue in your mouth and shutting you up with his lips. Your arm tossed around his shoulders to pull him impossibly closer while your other hand let go of George’s shirt to wrap around his waist instead, urging him towards you some more as well. 

George’s full lips dusted over the shell of your ear just enough to send shivers down your spine at his ghostly touch and warm breath before he was nipping at your earlobe and then leaving a slow open mouthed kiss to your neck, all while Pierre was still kissing you. Your legs nearly gave out from under you, already feeling yourself soaking through your panties under your dress, unable to hide the hungry moan that tumbled from your lips and against Pierre’s own. You burned for the both of them, feeling as though the temperature in your apartment was that of the summer heat, and your dress suddenly felt extremely suffocating. 

“I need-” you were barely able to get the sentence out as the moment you separated from Pierre, George was pulling your lips on his impatiently. You gladly kissed him back for a few seconds before your hands were blindly drifting to the front of their shirts again and you pushed them both an arms length away from you. You were already breathless and flushed, way past the point of horny, and you licked your lips before trying your statement again, “I need to get out of this goddamn dress right now.” 

George cocked his head in the direction of your bedroom, “Come on then.”

You followed behind them as they both turned for your bedroom, the three of you crossing your moonkissed hardwood floors towards the partially open door opposite the small kitchen. The two men only stopped when they both tried to go through the opening first. Stopping, they looked at each other flatly for a split second. You didn’t have a split second to waste as you pushed right past them and grabbed their wrists on your way to fully yank them through the doorway together and into your familiar bedroom. 

Once inside, you grabbed the first one you turned to when you rotated 180° to face them which happened to be Pierre. As you walked backwards farther into the room, your hand found the back of his neck and his hands went to your waist, pulling you right up against his body as you breathed into each other’s open mouths, lingering on that anticipation before the kiss. His lips ghosted across yours, taunting you, before finally capturing your bottom one between his two in a pornographic kiss. 

George followed after you as he hurried to unbutton his white collared shirt, his attention more focused on you than his buttons as his fingers stumbled over each one. Your arms tossed around Pierre’s shoulders as your body arched into his, lips meeting and parting messily while his fingertips pressed into your hips over the fabric of your dress. After a few seconds you were reaching a hand out towards George and he let you lead him closer to join, gladly accepting your kiss as you broke away from Pierre again. You kept an arm around the both of them - making sure the space between you was as limited as possible - and George’s hand drifted down your waist to grab a handful of your ass. Your fingertips teased at the popped collar of his open shirt before trailing down his exposed chest blindly, your attention taken up by his lips and tongue as you purposefully pushed the fabric off his shoulders and he let it drop to the ground. 

Pierre drifted at your side to stand behind you instead and his hands draped your hair over your shoulder so he could reach the top of the zipper on your dress. He gently pulled at it while his lips gravitated to your neck, feeling the shivers rise across your skin under his slow sensual kisses. You moved with him to help him slide your unzipped dress down your arms and to your waist while you were still hung up on George’s heavenly lips. Pierre took his time undressing you, letting his hands explore your familiar body while he kissed your neck and shoulder, groping your breasts over your bra or squeezing the flesh of your hips - he always knew just where to touch. But it was George who took the initiative to grab the fabric of your dress that was stuck around your waist and he pushed it farther down to let it fall to the floor where it pooled around your ankles. 

“Let’s get you out of this.” Pierre’s voice against the shell of your ear rose shivers down your arms as his experienced fingers unclasped your bra effortlessly and you moved with him to let it fall from your arms and onto the floor with your dress. 

Then, in a smooth motion, you were pulling your lips away from George to tilt your head back over your shoulder to get more of Pierre, moaning softly into his mouth as he kissed you again. His hand slid up around your throat, holding you in place, taking what he wanted from your lips and tongue for a few seconds before he, too, was breaking away from you so he could pull off his own shirt. The pile of clothes on the floor seemed to grow larger by the second but that was the least of your concerns as your attention was too captivated by the two brunettes on either side of you. Your hands trailed down each of their bare chests, feeling their familiar warm skin and slender bodies that truly felt like they were all yours and only yours to touch. 

Pierre’s fingers ghosted up your waist and he pinched one of your nipples as he spoke lowly to the room, his accent thick against your ear, “I think our pretty little slut should get on her knees for us.”

Our. For us. You could have absolutely swooned. Maybe the giddy little smile that came to your face was a reaction enough, regardless of how you tried to bite it back, keeping your eyes downcast as your hands rested greedily against their chests. 

“All shy now, are you?” George’s hand rested under your chin to tilt your head up, forcing your bashful gaze to focus on them. “Such an indecorous little girl at the club…now look at her.”

“Can’t even look at us.” Pierre tisked. 

George’s hand shifted to grab your cheeks, “Her face is so flushed. Bet she’s absolutely soaked for us already.”

You couldn’t help the soft whimper that involuntarily slipped from your lips, making the two young men smirk proudly. 

“Yeah?” George taunted, gently smacking his hand against your cheek once, “We haven’t even done anything yet and you’re already a whiny mess.”

Pierre took a half step closer and his fingers tangled in the back of your hair, giving your head a tug backwards just to prove they were in control before he spoke right against your cheek, “Just wait until we’re fucking finished with you.”

You could barely get out a breathy, “Please.”

“Come on then,” George coaxed, “on your knees.”

Never being one to say no to either of them - and certainly not when they were both looking at you like they were going to fucking devour you - you sank obediently to your knees amongst the mess of discarded clothes on the floor. The sound and sight of them unbuckling their belts simultaneously in your face was like angels singing and you clamped your thighs together tighter to smother the ache that radiated within you. You were so terribly impatient, hands reaching up to help guide their pants down as if they weren’t undressing fast enough.

The high-end fabric of George’s plaid slacks felt soft under your one hand and your other tugged at the rough denim of Pierre’s jeans at your other side until they were both stepping out of their pants. With the three of you left in only your underwear, your attention was narrowed in on only the two young men in front of you, feeling the way your stomach churned with near excitement and you were biting your lip until it was almost raw. 

Despite the way words had seemed to abandon you at that point in the night, your shyness certainly didn’t apply to your sense of touch as your hands slid up their thighs greedily. Two perfect men standing tall before you with your invitation to touch them however you pleased, grazing your dainty fingers over their hairy thighs and finally over the front of their boxers. It was nothing you hadn’t done before, hadn’t seen before, hadn’t risked before, allowing you to feel no hesitation as you felt them up over the thin fabric that separated your palm from arguably your favourite parts of them. 

Over the summer, you had been subconsciously comparing them to each other and as you swapped between them almost nightly, it was easy to start to find what was unique for each of them - in what they liked and how they looked and how they reacted to your touch. You weren’t surprised that they were both already incredibly hard, allowing your fingers to attempt to wrap around the shape of both of them through the fabric of their underwear, eyes shifting back and forth between them like a kid on Christmas morning. Oh, who to unwrap first?

Thankfully, they took that indecision into their own hands as they both shared some sort of silent agreement to drop their final piece of clothing at the same time, revealing themselves to you proudly. You truly and honestly grinned, entirely blessed to have two hands to touch both of them at the same time, habitually licking your lips as your eyes darted between their two perfectly beautiful cocks held so tenderly in your hands. You swore you were the luckiest girl in the damn world. 

Yes, it was nothing you hadn’t seen before, however seeing them both at the same time right in front of you was absolutely thrilling. George was overall bigger and you knew that subconsciously from your summer escapades between the two but Pierre had a length to him that was unmissable. With a hand still around each of them, you leaned in towards George to give him a teasing lap of your tongue along the underside of the tip, urging his hand to fall naturally into your hair as you leaned in again for another lingering lick. But then you were turning to Pierre, just having to turn your head a bit and he, too, was right in your face. 

Your tongue dragged right up the underside of his thick cock and then swirled around the tip, eyes staring up at him to gauge his reaction to your teasing touches. The lick of his lips was indication enough and when you pulled back from him, you pursed your lips to let a plentiful drop of spit fall onto the head of his cock. Your hand that was still around the base slid up to slick your palm in spit so you could glide easier around the soft warm shaft. Then you turned to George and did the same to him, allowing both of your hands to stroke them at the same time as your eyes drifted back and forth between them. 

After a few seconds, you were moving back in to take the head of George’s cock in your mouth and you sucked on it lazily, letting your hand around him do most of the work. Then you pulled away to turn back to Pierre and give him that same treatment of hand and mouth for a few moments. When you pulled back from him, you sat back on your heels for a moment with a spitty grin on your face, watching your hands around each of them at the same time, all yours to do with as you pleased. 

“This is incredible.” you breathed. 

You had thought you said it in your head but the low, warm chuckles that came from the two men in front of you gave clear indication that you truly said it out loud. You weren’t embarrassed as they had both heard much worse things come out of your mouth since you began seeing each of them and, instead, you shuffled closed on your knees and let your mouth wrap around George’s dick again. 

Leading with your tongue, you kept your jaw slack to keep your teeth out of the way, only going down about half the length as your hand tended to the rest. In steady time, you bobbed your head along with the pace of the strokes of your hand, caressing him with tongue and cheek. You moaned around him softly, eyes blinking up at him with your mouth full of dick, and with his big blue eyes staring down at you in return, his hand slid into the back of your hair again.

“Suck it harder.” he ordered. 

You never wanted to disappoint either of them so you did as told, hollowing your cheeks on each up stroke to really suck on him snugly in your mouth as you pulled back. Your hands kept matching paces on the both of them, even if your attention wasn’t directly on Pierre at the present moment - he was definitely watching, however. George, selfishly, really started to try and pull you deeper on him until you were sitting back, letting his dick fall from your mouth with a wet pop. 

Pierre grabbed your cheeks and pulled your head towards him, setting his other hand over yours around his cock so he could tap it against your spitty lips and make you open up. You stuck out your tongue and he slapped the head of his dick against it a few times before you took the initiative to sink your mouth down on him yourself. His groan was heavenly and you had you stretch your jaw a little more to fit him comfortably in your mouth without the interruption of teeth but he seemed to be appreciative of your efforts. 

“Good girl.” Pierre praised lowly, still holding the base of his cock even as you took him in your hand and mouth and he watched you intently, very aware of your other hand still tending to George right beside him, “This what you wanted? Just wanted to take two dicks like a greedy little slut?”

You could only reply with a muffled “mhm”. 

When you pulled off of him a few seconds later with a lewd pop, you gave George a purposeful tug to silently urge him a half step closer and you rewarded him with a wet kiss and a little suck. But then you were glancing back at Pierre who was only millimetres away and you tugged him a little bit closer too so you could guide both of them into your mouth at the same time. The both of them nearly choked over their breath in surprise, staring down at you with stormy eyes of the sea, shoved up together in your mouth. Logically, you couldn’t fit more than the tips in since the angle was naturally a little tricky but you worked them with your tongue and those sweet moans of yours to really make it worthwhile. Half of the time it was all about the show. 

“Putain.” Pierre groaned, pushing his fingers through your bangs to get your hair out of your face and he grasped the back of your head. 

“Fucking cockslut.” George said through his teeth as he grabbed a handful of your hair at the nape of your neck.

With both of them holding your head, you were forced in place but not like you would ever want to stop anyway. Your hands stayed wrapped around the base of each of their dicks, keeping them in your mouth, letting you slobber all over them until your spit was dripping onto the floor and your messy pile of clothes you were knelt on. 

The lust was too strong for them to care that they were touching each other, too spurred on by the sight and sound of you on your knees for them and taking two dicks in your mouth at the same time. Your tongue dragged between both of them back and forth across the sensitive spots under the smooth heads, earning their fingers to grip harder at your hair. When you pulled off them to try and breathe for a split second, your eyes nearly shone at the sight of them standing stiff in front of your face, glistening in spit, and you dipped down to drag your flat tongue right up the underside of the both of them simultaneously. 

After the stretch on your jaw from taking the two of them at once, you went back to the modest one at a time, feeding Pierre’s cock in your mouth back down to halfway as your hand stayed around the base. You kept those shallow bobs of your head going, smothering your moans with a stuffed mouth, and your hand’s twisting strokes kept him nice and hard against your tongue. 

However, your half-assed attempt at a blowjob wasn’t getting past either of them and, with his hand still gripping your hair, Pierre started to pull your head deeper on him, demanding firmly, “Gag on it. I know you can take more than that.”

You dropped your hand from his cock to let your mouth get deeper, struggling to take his impressive size farther against your tongue until it hit the back of your throat. Your soft gag had you pulling back a little to keep a more respectable depth going. 

But George had other plans from your other side as his hand in your hair shoved you deeper again, making you gag violently around Pierre’s cock as he ordered sternly, “Come on. Choke on his fucking dick.” 

Your hands grasped Pierre’s thighs to keep yourself steady as you were forced deeper on him, both of them taking over your head to move you as they pleased, getting more of those filthy wet gags from your throat as your eyes burned with tears. It was nothing you would ever complain about since you would choose them over air any day. 

When you finally had to break away for a gasp of air, they let you go, both of them staring at your flushed face and the way you had thick strings of spit trailing down your chin and onto the floor. Heaving for breath through a small cough, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and then reached for their dicks again, eager to keep going. Pierre’s palm smacked down against your cheek and his fingers squeezed your face to get your mouth to open so he could spit against your tongue before shoving your head towards George. 

“You wanna be treated like a slut, don’t you?” Pierre taunted. 

You felt as though you were in a complete haze, running on adrenaline stemmed from pleasure, and you barely answered him with an acknowledged hum before you were feeding George’s dick back into your mouth. After being forced to take Pierre’s, it was a bit easier now although you still gagged around George’s impressive length as he reached the back of your throat. 

His hand tangled in your hair as he spoke down to you, “Want us to use you like you’re some stupid whore?”

Your moan around his dick was taken as affirmative and his hips nudged towards your mouth in an instinctive thrust, trying to meet your motions. You grasped onto his thighs and let your jaw fall slack into the deeper bobs of your head. 

Just then, Pierre set his hand on the back of your head again and forced you all the way down until your nose touched the dark hair that dotted the base of his cock, encouraging George with a firm statement, “Fuck her throat.”

Knowing what was coming - since having had plentiful experience with the both of them - you blinked your teary eyes up at George as both of his hands held your head and he started to thrust into your mouth. Your fingernails dug into his thighs as tears burned your vision and made it hard to keep looking at him, your throat gagging and constricting around him in the filthiest wettest sounds as he had his way with you. 

“Oh, fuck.” he moaned tightly, handsome face screwed up in ecstacy. 

“That’s it.” Pierre stood right beside you, pumping his cock with his fist as he watched you turn into an absolute mess on the driver’s dick, his tongue darting out between his lips before his teeth were sinking down into the bottom one. 

George’s fingers were tight in your hair as he yanked you into his every thrust like you were nothing more than a toy. It wasn’t the first time you had found yourself in that position with either of them, letting him take over all your senses at once until the rest of reality fell away into the ringing of your ears. That had you tapping out on his thigh and he made sure to let you go so you could catch your breath and let your senses come back to you. 

The moment his dick fell from your mouth with bubbling strings of spit still connecting it to your lips, you were coughing loudly despite the biggest grin that was plastered across your face, blinking away your blurring tears. You moved back in to kiss his tip and then turned to give Pierre a little lick too, resting your warm hands on their thighs to take a second to catch your breath and just admire them from the floor. And underneath your sore knees, George’s once perfectly ironed plaid trousers were a wrinkled and spitty mess. 

Pierre’s thumb slipped past your lips for you to suck on as he directed his question to the man beside him, “How wet do you think that got her?”

George chuckled knowingly, “Fucking soaked, probably.”

Pierre stepped aside and pointed to your nearly made double bed behind them, directing to you, “Get on the bed.” 

You pushed yourself up from the floor with an obedient, “Yes, sir.” 

As you walked between them to climb onto your bed, George’s hand smacked your ass on your way past and you flipped around to face them as you scooted farther back on the mattress. That ear-to-ear grin never left your face, especially as you watched them join you on the bed, George on your left and Pierre on your right. Resting on your forearms behind you, your legs were outstretched across the mattress with only your thin lace panties sitting snug around your hips, displaying your body for the both of them who were entirely familiar with each inch of your skin. 

Even the few seconds you sat there motionless as they settled beside you were torturously impatient and your hips seemed to roll against nothing in desperate humanistic craving to get some ounce of friction between your legs. So you reached down yourself, sliding your hand over your underwear to rub your clothed clit a little, but you barely got your hand on yourself before Pierre was yanking you away by your wrist. 

“Did we tell you to touch yourself?” he warned. 

“Mm,” your head dropped back towards the ceiling impatiently, “no.”

“Does it ache?” George asked from your other side, his accent thick with lust as his fingertips ghosted over your hardened nipples.

“Yeah.” you exhaled.

“Yeah?” Pierre nudged your knee to the side to force you to spread your legs wider, “I bet it does, dirty girl.” 

You stared down your body to watch his hand trail up your inner thigh and then down the other, not giving you the satisfaction of his touch where you craved it most. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip in that heavy anticipation, watching his hand touch your thighs and your knees and your shins and your hips and even across your stomach and up your chest, urging an impatient whine out of you. Meanwhile, George’s fingers were pinching at your nipples before his mouth followed suit, plush lips wrapping around one for a teasing suck that had you falling back flat on the bed with a strained moan from your throat. Your wandering hands had a mind of their own, one sliding up the side of George’s face and into his soft brown waves while your other wrapped around Pierre’s bare bicep almost pleadingly. 

George pulled away from your chest with a soft pop and his tongue glided up your neck before his lips were locking with yours. You moaned pleasantly into his kiss and your fingers tightened in his hair, holding his mouth on yours as your tongue nudged against his insistently. After a few seconds, Pierre’s hand was teasing the waistband of your panties and he linked a finger right through the two leg holes so when he pulled his finger up, the fabric was pulled taut over your clit. You broke away from George’s lips with a soft groan, impatiently trying to nudge your hips up against Pierre’s hand. 

“That’s it, gorgeous. Want us to touch you?” George taunted down to you. 

“Yes, Georgie.” you purred angelically, batting your lashes up at him and his handsome face, lifting a hand up to reach out to stroke his bare chest and the faint hair between his pecs. 

“How long have you wanted this?” Pierre asked, tugging at your panties a little more so the tight fabric rubbed against your clit. “How long have you laid in this very bed and made yourself cum to the thought of both of us just having our way with you?”

“I don’t make myself cum,” you answered smoothly, draping your arms above your head lazily, “You two do it for me.”

The two of them laughed in realization of your spoken truth, the warm sound bringing an honest grin back to your face. 

Pierre tugged harder at your panties to really get the taut fabric nestling between your lips, “You’re such a good girl.”

George elaborated as his hand drifted down to your body to apply a bit more pressure to your clothed clit with his fingertips, speaking directly to you as he did so, “A good girl who just wants us to treat her like a bad girl, huh? Like you’ve done something wrong?” 

“Yes, sir.” you breathed, squirming against your bed under their unwavering stares. 

“Like lying to us while you were out fucking the other behind our backs?” George added as he slowly slid his hand farther down between your legs, following the thin fabric of your panties linked tightly in Pierre’s finger.

You had no reply for him, too focused on his hand disappearing between your thighs and you lifted your head up from your pillow to try and watch with bated breath. Pierre’s hand let go of your panties and instead his slender fingers wrapped around your throat, pinning your head down against your pillow again under his snug grasp. But you were pulling him down by the back of his neck after you, forcing his lips on yours in a breathless kiss as George slowly traced the hem of your underwear right down between your spread thighs. 

“You’re absolutely dripping…even your thighs are wet.” George breathed, dragging a finger along your inner thigh to touch the faint shimmer of wetness that had leaked from the protection of your underwear. The fabric itself was absolutely ruined just to show how turned on you already were and the simple action of him dragging three fingers over your clothed pussy had your hips nudging up against his hand and you moaned into Pierre’s mouth. 

Then, George’s hand moved to slip down the front of your underwear, giving himself permission to touch you without the barrier of pesky fabric. Your gasp had Pierre’s hand tightening around your throat and his tongue pushed against yours, forcing his control over you even if he wasn’t the one touching you. The sounds of your sloppy kisses were equal to the lewd wet caresses of George’s fingers gliding over your leaking pussy, rubbing you slowly, tauntingly, smothering his fingertips in your messy wetness until they were covered. 

Your hand wrapped blindly around his bicep as your other arm was tossed around Pierre’s shoulders, still kissing him breathless, and your legs habitually opened wider as if silently permitting George to touch you more. He seemed to take to your invitation as he took his hand back just long enough to push your damp underwear down your legs and they were tossed to the pile of clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed. The cool air of your apartment hitting your wet cunt made you shiver but his fingers were on you again in an instant, warming you up with the friction of his touch. 

You broke away from Pierre with a choked moan and his lips found your neck instead, kissing you slowly under your ear, his facial hair tickling across your skin, while his hand moved down from your throat to your chest, tweaking at your nipples with warm touches. George’s hand was still between your legs and he glanced back at your face again while he rubbed across your pussy before slipping two fingers inside you. His eyebrows raised in time with the blissful parting of your lips, his attention focused on the wavering expression of your face as you stared at each other lustfully. 

“Good girl.” he whispered softly, his voice as smooth as butter. 

You barely had to make a move to reach for him before he was leaning down towards you on his own accord, locking your lips with his in a filthy kiss. The unkempt hairspray-stained brunette curls at the nape of his neck always called to your fingers and you laced your hand in the halo of styled brown hair to gently tug on. It was Pierre’s kisses on your neck that rose shivers down your arms although the heat that flushed across your body was thanks to the steady nudges of George’s two fingers inside you. They were a pair to be reckoned with it seemed - but you had figured that from the moment you met each of them individually. 

Your bedroom welcomed your soft moans at their presence, egged on by George’s generous fingers and his kisses that swallowed up your audible praise. Pierre lifted his head from your neck and you shuttered at the graze of his touch over your clit, breaking away from George’s lips.

Although Pierre moved towards you like he was going to take his opportunity, he didn’t, and instead he let his fingers circle at your swollen clit as he spoke right to your face, “That’s it. You’re gonna let us have our way with you, huh? Make you feel so fucking good.”

He swallowed your whimper up with his lips like it was dessert, dragging his tongue against yours to taste the sweetness of your pleasure. George was right there as well and you only had to turn your face away from Pierre the slightest amount to be able to take kisses from him too. With their hands between your legs and sharing the responsibility of bringing you into that heart-racing euphoria, you went between their lips in turns, pulling at hair and the backs of necks as if you couldn’t get enough of them. 

Both of them were tucked right up close to you on either side, gladly sharing in your kisses until you had to take a break to breathe, your gaze drifting down your body to their hands between your legs. As if sharing the same mind, they both sped up their fingers a little more, forcing a tight groan from your throat as your head fell back against your pillow. 

“Give up control to us, cherié.” Pierre whispered against your cheek, “Let us take those stupid little thoughts from that pretty little head of yours.”

And then he was disappearing from your side and shifting down the bed. 

George took his fingers out of you and the momentary lack of touch had you whining in displeasure as they situated themselves. Pierre shoved your legs apart wider and he slid down onto the mattress between them so he could spit right onto your pussy before his fingers were sliding right through it and back up. He slapped three fingers down on your clit, making you startle, and with a cocky smirk against your inner thigh, his blue eyes staring up at you, he gave you a few more smacks. 

“Holy fuck.” you squeaked, stretching one arm out across the sheets to grasp at the fabric while your other hand wrapped around George’s bicep. You knew exactly what was coming and the way Pierre’s hand wrapped around your thighs and yanked you closer to him in the middle of the bed had you biting back an anticipatory smile. Once his tongue dragged right up over your pussy, your head was falling back with a beaming grin to the ceiling, “Yes.”

You had come to learn over the summer that they each had their strengths and it was a genuine fact that you could never get enough of Pierre’s mouth. In fact, many nights, he would go down on you until you were shaking and begging him to stop. He always just wanted one more orgasm out of you and maybe that’s what kept you going back and what kept you opening your legs for him. This was no different as he licked at your pussy and peppered open mouthed kisses over your glistening thighs and he suckled on your lips to make sure he was covering every last inch of you with his mouth. 

“Oh my God, Pierre.” you whimpered, draping your arms above your head. 

His large hands groped your flesh where your thighs met your ass and he spread you open to permit his tongue between your lips, lapping at the sweetness that dripped out of you before finally dragging a straight shot right up to your clit. You gasped hard, back arching off the bed slightly, and you choked out his name to the ceiling. 

George, still sitting naked at your side, collected your wrists in his one large hand and kept your arms pinned above your head, ordering firmly, “Be a good fucking girl for us and hold still.”

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip to try and contain yourself despite the way Pierre was repeatedly stroking his full tongue over your aching clit. You swore your entire body was sizzling, hungry and pulsing for some sort of release of all that pesky pressure building inside you and the moans that tumbled messily from your lips were only proof of that. 

George’s hand was still pinning your wrists down to your bed but his other was aimlessly stroking his cock as his gaze was focused on the way Pierre went down on you, finding it incredibly hot to watch the way you spread your legs for another man despite that twinge of jealousy inside him that he wasn’t often familiar with. So, instead, he shuffled closer to you on his knees and let go of your wrists so he could pull your face in his direction and rub the head of his cock over your lips. 

“Open.” he said lowly. 

You took a breath before parting your lips and letting him push in his dick, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as he filled your mouth all while Pierre still tended to your clit in perfect wet strokes. George caressed your cheek with his warm hand and brushed your sweaty hair back from your face as he thrusted shallowly into your mouth so your cheek bulged slightly from the head of his cock. Your eyes fluttered shut through a soft moan, blindly moving a hand to wrap around the base of his dick to help keep him steady in your mouth while your legs draped over Pierre’s shoulders to pull him closer. 

“You’re such a pretty little slut.” George cooed, trailing his fingers through your hair. 

You tried to focus on him but Pierre’s mouth ravishing you between your legs was making any other task intensely difficult. Pierre wrapped his entire arms around your thighs to yank you closer to his mouth, holding you in place, and his nose brushed across your clit as his tongue nudged inside you again. You moaned messily around George as your other hand reached down to tangle in Pierre’s messy brown hair, helping yourself to nudge your hips up against his mouth some more. 

When you pulled away from George’s cock for a moment to breathe, your hand picked up the slack in messy strokes slicked up from your spit while your head lifted up from the bed to look down at Pierre. Pierre’s blue eyes were already looking right back up at you from between your legs with half his face hidden as he smothered himself in your pussy, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs that were nearly wrapped around his head. The breathy moans and whimpers that tumbled from your lips were nearly involuntary and your head dropped back against the bed with the strong growing pleasure coursing through you. 

George rubbed the head of his cock across your swollen lips, urging your mouth to open and he slipped inside again. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly as he took up your mouth in shallow thrusts and you tried to be good for him and give him all that you could at that angle. He seemed to take that upon himself though as his hand tangled in the back of your hair and his hips nudged a bit harder into your mouth until he was reaching the back of your throat and making you gag on his dick. 

“Don’t take your mouth off it.” George told you lowly, holding you down on him with your nose nearly touching the dark hair that dotted the base of his cock. 

You gagged loudly around him, tears blurring your vision and leaking down your flushed cheeks, and your hands pressed pleadingly against his thigh and his abdomen even as he gave you a few more shallow thrusts behind nearly pitch perfect moans. A few seconds later he was pulling right out, letting you heave a gasp of air as you coughed through the spit that drooled down your chin right at the moment where Pierre slipped two fingers inside you, forcing you to choke over your breath. Your hand kept stroking George’s cock while Pierre’s tongue found your clit again and he pressed warm wet kisses over it before taking it between his lips to suck on while his fingers nudged inside you strongly. 

“My fucking God-” you choked out, writhing against the bedsheets. 

George slapped his hand down against one of your bare breasts and then the other before finishing with a third smack to your cheek and then he was reaching down to grab your ankle and he yanked your legs open. With your legs forced apart, Pierre’s tongue had more direct access to your clit and his fingers were shoving into your sopping cunt at that perfect angle that tore the breath from your lungs. In fact, as he drew you closer, you habitually held your breath, limbs tensing as that intense warmth coiled tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach. 

George’s hand smacking against your cheek again startled the air into your chest, forcing you to squeak out a pitchy, “Fuck!” 

“Are you gonna cum for another man right in front of me?” George taunted from beside you, groping your breasts one at a time and pinching your nipples just to add onto your already intense sensations.

You couldn’t do anything else but nod feverishly with a pitiful, “Uh huh.”

“Yeah? Wanna cum on his mouth?” 

Your fingers tightened in Pierre’s hair, yanking him closer as his tongue and fingers worked in sync to finish you off, your eyes screwing shut as you body trembled, meaningless words tumbling from your lips, “Yes, yes, yes-”

“Good girl.” George’s hand wrapped around your throat while his other kept a snug grasp on your ankle to keep your legs spread wide for Pierre’s tongue. His blue eyes focused on your flushed face as he spoke to you with a lust that weaved itself through each word within his thick London accent, “Show me what an insatiable little whore you are and cum on his fucking mouth.”

Your mouth fell open dumbly, glazed eyes rolling back as your body shuttered against the sheets and bursts of pleasure took over your body. You could hardly recall crying out Pierre’s name through your moans as you struggled to get your senses about yourself, trying to turn away from his mouth that cleaned you up with an eager tongue. He would have easily stayed down there to make you cum over and over but he didn’t want to be selfish about it - there was another person involved after all. 

So, instead, Pierre shifted up from between your legs, speaking down to you with that unmissable smirk of his, “What do you say?” 

“Thank you.” you whimpered, letting him capture your words with his mouth in a filthy kiss. He still tasted like you and your arms tossed around his shoulders as you sucked on his tongue, trying to get his naked body against yours by your leg wrapping around his waist until he was slipping out of your arms just as quickly.

“Switch.”

Your head turned to George as he dictated the next move with a cock of his head and Pierre generously moved off the bed entirely, giving you room to take the initiative to rotate yourself 90-degrees so you were laying across the mattress at the ready for your other handsome suitor. George helped himself to your bedside drawer where he pulled out the half empty box of condoms and took one out to set between his lips as he situated himself on his knees between your spread legs. 

“Who says you get to fuck her first?” Pierre said with a playful edge to his voice. 

“I’m the original, in case you forgot.” George countered with a sly smirk, “I think I get priority.” 

Pierre was right on the reply, “Shame she had to find a second man to properly satisfy her then.”

“Okay, okay.” you hushed them with a soft chuckle, “Don’t go and fight over me now.” 

George ripped open the condom with his teeth as his narrowed eyes stayed directed to Pierre who was standing on the other side of the bed. You couldn’t see Pierre from how you were laying with him standing above where your head was, but that was fine since the sight of George rolling on the condom was highly intriguing to you. Despite the generous way in which Pierre finished you mere moments before, you still had that pesky ache that throbbed between your legs as you watched George prep to take you in the middle of your bed and so you reached a hand down to rub your fingers over your messy pussy impatiently. You slid two inside you for a moment, slicking them up in your wetness before taking them back out to spread your lips apart for him, taunting him silently. The low groan that fell from the Brit’s chest had you biting back your cocky grin; only more so as he shuffled closer to you on his knees so he could nudge the protected head of his cock right between your spread fingers. 

Your eyes were focused down your body to stare, waiting for him to push inside you, and when you looked up at his face, you spoke to his stormy blue eyes with a whispered, “Please.”

The sly smirk that pricked at his lips was reply enough and no sooner was your weak request spoken was he slipping inside you steadily. Your hands slid up his bare body and over his chest with a strained moan at the initial stretch that was much more intense than Pierre’s fingers had been. And when your fingers tangled in the back of his luscious brown hair, you pulled him in for a sloppy tongue-led kiss and met him halfway, sharing hungry moans into each other’s mouths. 

Pierre watched for a moment from his spot at the side of the bed, having a perfect view right down your body to watch you get fucked by another man when your kiss broke apart. You were a fan of watching too; lifting your head up from the mattress to stare down between your spread legs to see how your pussy stretched around George’s perfect cock and accepted every last inch of him. Your hands wrapped around his biceps as he rested on flat hands and straight arms on either side of your body, starting to thrust greedily into you. 

“Fuck yeah.” you breathed, your hushed encouragement laced with a pretty whimper. 

From above you, Pierre’s hand was taken to his dick and he couldn’t help but give himself haphazard pumps to try and rid that seemingly ever present ache. The sounds alone were enough, finding his head spinning from the creamy wet squeltches of your cunt and those lewd sounds of skin on skin in rhythmic succession. It was human nature; who could blame him? 

Your head fell back against your mattress with a whine, skin flushing hot from the pleasure that burned within you, and your hands drifted from George’s arms to his shoulders with a quivering, “My God, George, fuck.” 

Both men never failed to make you feel like heaven, knowing exactly what to do and how to do it to bring that dopey pleasured expression to your face. George’s precise curling strokes were no different, only being pulled into you harder by your legs wrapped around his waist. He seemed lost in you, moving one hand higher up the mattress to press beside your head as a rich moan fell from his chest, keeping the consistent snap of his hips against yours. 

“Yeah, gimme it.” you pleaded with a voice that sounded like you were fighting tears. “Please, sir.”

Pierre’s hands on your arms startled you and suddenly he was yanking you closer to the edge of the bed towards him. George shuffled after you right away and he guided your legs up towards your chest as he pushed back inside you and picked up where he left off from his knees. With your head hanging off the side of the bed, you were at that perfect height for Pierre to slap his hard cock against your face and you couldn’t help the surprised giggle that passed your spitty lips. The two men smiled themselves at your sweet enjoyment with George still nestled deep inside you and Pierre then helping himself to your mouth. You kept your hands wrapped snugly around George’s biceps as he held your thighs back towards your chest, giving himself a perfect little hole to thrust into. And with your head hanging off the side of the bed, Pierre wasn’t much different in the sense that he, too, was shoving messily into you, taken by the warm wet confines of your mouth. His groan when he hit the back of your throat was nearly muffled by your gag and out of instinct your nails dug into George’s skin. 

“Take it.” George ordered, staring down at you beneath him and the faint bulge in your throat that appeared with every one of Pierre’s thrusts into your mouth. He stayed steady himself, pushing into your pliant body, his familiar hands pressing strongly into the backs of your thighs to literally hold you in half. 

You couldn’t stay like that for long with Pierre’s cock blocking your airway as you gagged around him messily, trying to be good for him, with his balls nudging against your face with his every shallow thrust. When he pulled out of your mouth again, you gasped almost violently, desperately pulling air into your lungs as your own spit smeared across your cheeks from the head of his cock. It was hard to catch your breath, however, when George was fucking it right back out of you, not slowing down for a second. You could feel tears burning your eyes from how good it felt and your chin tucked down to your chest to watch between your spread legs with an expression of pure screwed up pleasure. 

Pierre crouched down by your head that was still hovered over the side of the mattress, whispering right against your ear, “Look at you taking that fucking cock like such a good little slut.”

You only whimpered in reply, not tearing your eyes away from the lewd scene before you. George moved one of his hands from your leg to tangle in the back of your hair instead, keeping your head up just like that so you truly had no choice but to watch as he fucked you. So you held your legs back on your own, pulling them back and open wide with your hands on the backs of your knees. 

“That’s it,” Pierre praised against your ear as the intensity from George had your bed creaking faintly underneath you, and he reached down to grope your breasts in his hands at the same time, “spread those fucking legs for him. Letting him fuck your pussy like you’re some stupid toy…having us take turns using you. Can’t get enough dick, can you, cherié?” 

All you could whine out was a blubbery “no” in reply as your eyes raised to George’s face again. 

“Fuck.” he groaned tightly at the sight of your expression, “Look at that sweet face.” 

“George...” you whimpered up at him. 

“Fuck, yeah, gorgeous.” he said through his teeth, starting to speed up his thrusts a bit more as he stared right into your eyes, head still cradeled in his hand as he cooed down to you, “That’s my girl.” 

Pierre’s hands on your breasts pinched at your nipples as his lips found your neck, trailing slow open mouthed kisses across your warm skin in time with his rough touch. Then he was sliding his hands farther down your body and past the curve of your hips and between your spread thighs and his right hand dipped down to let his fingertips graze over your clit. The soft squeak that slipped from your throat had him smiling against your neck and he nipped at your earlobe before letting his fingers start to rub precise circles over your swollen clit, matching the pace of George’s thrusts almost perfectly. 

“Oh my God.” you moaned out, trying to toss your head back habitually but George’s grasp at the back of your neck prevented you. Instead, your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you were forced to watch as you held your legs open wide by your own free will, tears brimming with pleasurable tears as the whimpery moans tumbled helplessly from your mouth and you could barely get out a trembling, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” 

“Should we keep going?” Pierre taunted against your ear. 

“Yes!” you answered hurriedly, “Yes, please keep going. Please don’t fucking stop!” 

“Yeah? Think you deserve that?” Pierre’s fingers rubbed faster at your clit, his other hand pinching one of your nipples again, and then he was looking up at George and directing to him, “Think she deserves to cum again?”

You tried to plead with him with your eyes but before you could even give a proper attempt, he was pulling right out of you. At almost the same time, Pierre took his fingers away, leaving you with a smack to your cheek as he stood up again. You writhed in frustration against your bed, George’s sudden distance allowing your head to fall off the edge of the mattress as you cried out pathetically to the ceiling and your hands pressed between your legs. 

As if ignorant to your whining, the two men shifted their positions, casually speaking their game plan into existence starting with George’s question, “Wanna turn her over?”

“Yeah.” Pierre knelt up on the bed too and he took that time to roll on a condom.

You didn’t even need to move on your own as George maneuvered you how they wanted you with near ease, grabbing your arm and yanking you over onto your stomach. He then grabbed your hips and guided your ass up, forcing you to be bent at the waist and he leaned down to spread your cheeks and get a quick taste of you himself. You groaned into the sheets and pushed back against his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut, but no sooner did he start was he pulling away and giving your ass a smack to let Pierre take over. 

“Tastes good, huh?” Pierre chuckled. 

George licked away his cocky grin, “Fuck yeah.” 

“Maybe we should turn her that way?” Pierre gestured to the headboard. 

“I was gonna stand in front of her.” George countered casually. 

“Oh, yeah, okay, that works.” Pierre agreed as he shuffled up behind you on his knees. 

“You’re teaming up on me. This isn’t fair.” you said lightheartedly, trying to look back at them over your shoulder. 

“Isn’t that exactly what you wanted?” George argued lightly as he got off the bed and walked around to stand in front of you. 

You had no rebuttal since he was entirely correct so you just smothered your smile into the crook of your arm as he took off the condom, letting it drop to the floor to be dealt with later so his entirely natural dick could press up against your lips. From behind you at the same time, Pierre was slipping the protected head of his cock between your sopping pussy and he nudged it teasingly against you a few times before finally guiding himself inside you. 

Your fingers grasped onto the edge of the mattress at the pressure that he pushed across your hips, stretching you around his cock, and his hands on your hips guided you back into him until your ass pressed against his pelvis. With your trembling moan, George took that opportunity to angle his dick against your mouth and you naturally let your jaw fall slack to welcome him in against your tongue. Pierre’s lazy testing thrusts had you moaning around George greedily and your eyes fluttered shut contently, entirely entrusting of the both of them. 

Pierre’s hands kneaded the flesh of your hips and he groaned warmly as he pulled you back on him more until there was absolutely no space between you, sheathing himself completely inside you. Your body burned for more attention, desperate for more of anything, and you couldn’t help but instinctively start to fuck yourself back onto Pierre’s cock yourself, ultimately making you start to suck George off at the same pace. George’s fingers trailed through your hair over the crown of your head, pushing your bangs out of your face politely so you could have free reign of his cock in your mouth - and so he could get a better view of it. With your tangled hair draped over one shoulder, your mouth could take to him freely in back and forth strokes made by the way you pushed your body back on Pierre at a steady pace. 

With a sharp slap to your ass, Pierre announced matter-of-factly, “Fucking slut.”

You could barely offer a sweet moan in reply before he was grabbing your hips again and starting to fuck you himself. Your fingers tightened around the edge of the mattress, trying to keep your mouth tending to George but the pleasure that tore through you had you freezing up. So he took it upon himself to thrust into your mouth in return, taking to the other half of your body in shallow possessive strokes. You gagged around him messily, drooling down your chin and onto the bedsheets, your eyes blurring tears from the combination of the both of them. 

The slick sound of Pierre’s skin clapping with yours filled your modest bedroom and as he fucked you harder, it only grew louder and more intense. You couldn’t help but naturally try to move away from the strength of it, turning your head away from George to hide your face in the sheets with a strained whimper, your body writhing against the mattress. 

But Pierre stopped just long enough to yank you back into place, ordering firmly with another spank, “Keep your ass up.”

“Sorry-” your words were cut off as he grabbed a fistfull of your hair and yanked your head up, forcing you to gasp out the rest, “sir.”

With your hair in his one handed grip, he was in complete control of you, keeping you at his mercy as he pounded into you from behind. His free hand came down hard against your ass, leaving a blushing red handprint on your flesh that he made darker with another slap. You swore you were drooling from it, eyes glossy with pleasure, trying to focus on George’s shimmering caramel skin right in front of your face. 

George’s fingers trailed over your lips and he slipped two into your mouth for you to suck on, speaking to the room with a tone full of hushed surprised realization, “My God, I love watching you get fucked.” 

You moaned around his fingers, teary eyes raising to look up at his face as Pierre’s grip on your hair kept your head back. George pulled his hand back, his fingers glistening in your spit, and he started to stroke his cock in purposeful strokes, staring right back into your eyes. You couldn’t help the way your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you stared back at him, your expression wavering with each aggressive thrust from the man behind you. Pierre’s hand coming down hard against your ass again had you flinching.

“Ah- Fuck, Pierre!” you blurted out. 

“Yeah?” he slowed just long enough to give your hair a yank again, “Don’t just lay there. Suck his dick.”

George took over for him with his hand in your hair and he shuffled himself a bit closer to the edge of your bed to guide your mouth back down on him. Once he was nestled back in your mouth, Pierre was picking up the pace again to find a more sustainable but just as strong intensity that had your eyebrows furrowing. Brushing your hair over one of your shoulders before taking it in his fist in a makeshift ponytail, George was staring down at you with the very definition of lust across his face. 

“Good girl.” he praised richly. 

With your elbow resting on the mattress, you reached your hand up to wrap around the base of his cock and help to guide your movements, moaning around him warmly even as he started to thrust into your mouth a little more. You could hardly see behind the tears that pricked your eyes thanks to the both of them completely taking you over, but you let the rivers of pleasure carve their way down your cheeks without a single complaint. 

As George nudged against the back of your throat, Pierre let out a stiff groan from behind you, squeezing your hips as he spoke aloud, “I can tell when she gags on your dick because she tries to push me out.” 

You whimpered, half embarrassed at how they were always so aware of your every slight reaction, but you couldn’t focus on much else with each of them stuffing you full from either end. They took up all of your senses, all of your thoughts, all of your desires, until you were a nearly incomprehensible, hazy, drooling mess between them. You were so muddled in pleasure, in fact, that you weren’t even aware they had spoken their next move out loud until they were pulling out of you at the same time and you were left with aching emptiness. 

“No-” you barely whimpered out, glancing over your shoulder as Pierre pulled off the condom and then shifted his position on your bed. 

George then joined you too, being tossed another condom from Pierre in the process, and then he was nudging your hip, “Stay just like this but face the top of the bed there, gorgeous.” 

On quivering limbs, you shifted yourself ninety-degrees to face towards the headboard on hands and knees and, ultimately, where Pierre was situated. He was resting on his knees in front of you, his glistening dick in hand, and you couldn’t help but press a fleeting kiss to the tip. He smirked down at you and tucked your hair behind your ear while you kept yourself bent at the waist for George who was rolling on the fresh condom behind you. 

“That’s it.” George breathed, shuffling up closer behind you to angle the protected head of his cock between your legs, “So willing to just let us fuck you in every position we want, huh?”

You wiggled back on him with a sweet, “Mhm.”

“Yeah,” he praised lowly as he pushed inside you steadily with a soft groan, “Good fucking girl.” 

“Oh my God.” you moaned shakily, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he started to thrust into with ease, “Fuck, you’re so fucking big.”

George’s hand came down in a sharp spank against your ass before he was grabbing a handful of your flesh and tugging you back into his every consistent stroke, blessing your bedroom with the sound of his slick skin colliding with yours. With your forearms on either side of Pierre, his dick was right in your face, and you smothered your involuntary whimpers by wrapping your lips around it and sinking your mouth right down. Pierre’s fingers tangled in your hair and from his position on his knees in front of you, staring down at you as your mouth worked on him messily and you drooled down your chin. You shifted in front of him to reach him a little better with the opportunity to wrap your hand around the base of his lengthy cock.

But then George’s hands slid from your hips to the dip of your waist and he pressed the heels of his palms into the small of your back, telling you firmly, “Arch your back.”

You forced yourself deeper for him, bent in half right down against the mattress until your cheek was caressed by the wrinkled duvet. Your fingers clutched the fabric in white-knuckled grips, eyes fluttering as your chest moaned beautiful symphonies from his precise strokes and the way he hit in all the right spots that you swore you were seeing stars. Pierre’s hand pet your hair out of your flushed face before giving your cheek a faint smack, watching your hazy expression as you were fucked by another man. 

“George-” you whimpered shakily, trying to look over your shoulder at him. 

Without hesitating, George pointed towards the direction of your bedside table and directed to Pierre, “Pass me that?”

You could hardly get your eyes to focus on anything of sustenance to know what he was requesting, too drunk on his dick to think of much else. But as Pierre shifted from in front of you to reach towards the cluttered surface of your bedside table, he clarified, “The camera?”

“Yeah.”

“George-” you pleaded, nearly melting into your mattress. 

As he situated the camera in his hands behind you - while still keeping his precise thrusts going - Pierre maneuvered himself in front of you so he was sitting properly on your bed and resting back against the pillows and headboard, leaving his legs parted on either side of you so you could nestle right between them. Your arms naturally went over his thighs and his dick was right in your face again but you let it rest against your cheek for a moment as you lingered in that haze of pleasure. 

“Look at me a sec, sugar.” George requested. 

Pierre helped to pull your hair over one shoulder as you looked back towards George, your natural expression being picture-perfect and the sound of the shutter and a burst of the flash in the dimly lit bedroom. 

“Beautiful.” George complimented as the polaroid printed from the base of the camera and he gave it a little shake before tossing it aimlessly onto the bed. Still nestled inside you all the way, he gave you a few more haphazard thrusts before lifting the camera up again to peer through the viewfinder, angling it down to get that perfect shot of your body bent over before him. He kept you there with a warm, “Just like that.”

Another click of the shutter and burst of flash and a second polaroid picture was dropped onto the bed beside you to develop. You blinked away the colourful shapes that floated in front of your eyes thanks to the interruption of that sudden bright light, turning your head back to face Pierre’s lap and his fingers scratched through the roots of your hair gently, silently guiding your mouth towards his achingly hardly cock. 

“One more,” George encouraged, watching through the camera lens, “Put his dick in your mouth.”

You reached a hand over to wrap around the base of Pierre’s cock and you guided it towards your outstretched tongue, pausing there a moment for the photo opportunity until the flash went off again, encapsulating the both of them on either side of you in the most erotic way in a polaroid picture. 

“Good girl.” George praised. 

His praise in that sweet accent of his had you melting into a cheeky smile, sliding your arms farther across the bed on either side of Pierre’s lap so your face was nestled right in his lap and your mouth took as much of his cock as you could. You moaned happily around him, warm from praise and affection, truly not wanting to be anywhere else at that moment. 

“Our own little centrefold.” Pierre tisked, his voice low and deep with lust, watching you suck lazily on him as his fingers trailed through your hair. “Little fucking exhibitionist slut.”

“Mhm.” George tossed your camera onto the bed alongside the polaroids to give you his full attention again and the warmth of his large rough hands caressing your hips and your ass made you groan around Pierre’s cock. Then, with another spank, George was picking up the pace again, fucking you selfishly into your bed and, ultimately, right into Pierre’s lap as he spoke down to you in a taunting coo, “Poor thing can’t seem to ever be satisfied.”

You pulled off Pierre’s dick with a pitchy whine and a thick string of spit still connecting you, pushing yourself up onto your hands instead for a new angle as you fucked yourself back into George’s motions. Pierre took over with his hand himself, keeping his gaze focused on your euphoric expression as you were taken by another man right in front of him. 

“That’s it.” he exhaled with a lick and a bite to his plush lips, “Merde, you take it so fucking well.”

Your palms were still pressed flat to the bed on either side of his lap so you were basically face to face, although your attention was more so towards the man behind you at that moment. Face screwed up in pleasure and tears brimming in your eyes, you were a moaning, whimpering mess, and your sounds were only countered by the slick clap of his skin with yours and the creak of your bed beneath you. 

“Fuck, George!” you cried out shakily, “Right there, right there! Fuck!” 

“Yeah, take that dick, baby.” Pierre praised through his teeth, using his free hand that wasn’t pumping his cock to squeeze your cheeks between his thumb and fingers. 

One look into Pierre’s pretty blue eyes and all that pleasure was building up inside you faster and faster, acting as the catalyst to bring you right to the edge by just a glance. He kept you focused on him like that, forcing you to stare into his eyes, helped only more so by George’s hand yanking at your hair to keep your head right up. 

“You gonna cum for us again?” George taunted from behind you as he kept his strong pace going.

“Yes, sir.” you squeaked out. “Please let me cum.”

“Such a good girl with good fucking manners.” Pierre cooed as he took his hand from your face just long enough to give your cheek a few smacks. “Keep making these pretty fucking sounds of yours.”

“Oh, please.” you whimpered loudly, melting into a blubbering mess of moans and whines that were incomprehensible. The slick erotic clap of skin on skin fought with the volume of your noises, making a lewd symphony in your dimly lit bedroom with your sweaty body captured between the two men who had you in the palms of their hands. They weren’t quiet either; the sounds of their panted breaths and handsome groans going right between your quivering legs.

Pierre’s fingers squished your cheeks snugly to keep your glossy eyes on his while George’s fist in your hair kept your head up and your body in just the right position for him. He was giving you every last inch in quick succession, absolutely having his way with you, and the tears that streaked down your cheeks were born from nothing but pure overwhelming pleasure. His name fell from your spitty lips like second nature since your brain could hardly make sense of any proper sentences, letting a stumbling chant of his name fill the hot sticky air between you. 

And as your euphoria rose to its peak, you squeaking out a warning, “I’m cumming-”

George gave you a hard spank as you fell into waves of pleasure under his control, your body tensing on your quivering arms, and you fell perfectly silent for a moment, gaping dumbly without tearing your eyes away from Pierre’s firm gaze.

“Good fucking girl.” Pierre praised you strongly directly to your face as his right hand kept stroking his cock, “That’s my good little slut; cum all over his fucking dick.”

You gasped out of it, heaving for air as your limbs trembled, and you finally tore your attention away from Pierre so you could look back towards George and reach a hand back to grasp his thigh and slow him down.

“O-Oh my God.” you whimpered, wincing as he pulled out of you and left you with another little smack to your ass. 

“Look at you shaking.” George chuckled warmly, “I didn’t even do much.”

“Mm,” you pushed yourself away from Pierre so you were sitting back on your knees in the middle of your messy bed, thighs visibly vibrating, “you know just what I like.”

George’s hand wrapped around your throat and he pulled your head back just enough to get his lips on yours. You shared a few breathless tongue-led kisses before he was breaking away to retrieve your polaroid camera from across the bed before it could risk being broken. Pierre took that opportunity to adjust himself in front of you to keep himself leaning back comfortably against the headboard and pillows and he grabbed your wrist to guide you towards him.

“C’mere. I want a turn.” he demanded. 

You tucked your hair behind your ears, unable to lick away your giddy grin as you shuffled closer to him on your knees and straddled his lap carefully. Your skin was glistening in sweat, leaving you in a faint glimmer that his hands caressed over longingly as he pulled you into his arms. Dipping down to kiss his plush lips, you let him adjust you blindly on his lap until you could feel the head of his cock against your warm swollen pussy, taunting you with the risk of feeling him raw. 

“Here.” George’s voice tore you away from Pierre’s lips and you watched as he tossed him another condom from your half-empty box, sharing a teasing, “These are gonna be gone by the end of the night at this rate.”

Pierre didn’t seem bothered by the reminder of contraception and he caught it with an amused smirk to his counterpart and then ripped it open with his teeth, all while keeping one hand around your back to hold you close. Your fingers scratched through the back of his brunette waves, impatiently waiting for him to roll it on himself - and keeping your sudden lust-fueled desire to just skip the hassle of condoms all together to yourself. His tongue dragged across one of your nipples as his arm around your waist guided you closer, mingling your sweaty skin with his spit as he slid the protected head of his cock between your lips and nudged it against your sensitive clit.

Your hips jumped naturally at his teasing touches and you felt him smile against your breast before he was easing you down onto his dick. Your mouth fell open habitually, head tilting back just a little as the breath caught in your chest for a moment, and you sank down on him easily after plenty of warm-up. Pierre groaned lowly, his lips wrapping around your other nipple to suck on, and his large hands groped your ass and pulled your hips right up against his so you were flush together. 

After a brief second, you tucked your hair over your shoulder and let your hands rest on his chest as he broke away from your breasts to look up at your face properly. Keeping that unwavering eye contact, you started to rise up and then sink back down on him in slow curling motions that had his eyebrows furrowing slightly, his lips parting in the sweetest expression. And the sound was unbelievable, that lewd wet squelch of your pussy taking him all in, wrapping around him so snugly.

“Mm, my God, you’re so fucking creamy.” Pierre chuckled lowly, licking away his grin, “I can feel it through the condom.”

“You’re welcome.” George piped up from the foot of the bed, taking his second to just watch.

“It was a joint effort.” Pierre retorted lightheartedly, punctuating his fact with a spank to your rosy flesh. You shared in his smile and leaned down for a kiss, licking your way into his mouth to earn a groan from his chest. His hands on your ass helped to guide your lazy motions, settling you into a steady pace to start to ride him properly on your quivering thighs. 

After a few seconds, you pulled away from his lips to meet his gaze with your hands on his shoulders and your bottom lip between your teeth. It wasn’t the first time you found yourself on top of him like that and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, taking what you wanted from him in lazy bounces with your tangled hair falling messily around your head like a voluminous halo. The sight of him licking his lips as he stared at you had your insides in a whirl, head falling backwards with a soft groan of pleasure to the ceiling, in a trance from the steady clap, clap, clap of your ass meeting his thighs in that dizzying rhythm. 

“That’s it.” Pierre praised you richly, “That’s my girl.” 

The mattress dipped slightly as George joined you on the bed again and he moved closer to smack his hand down against your ass. He himself was all too used to watching you like that from below so he took that opportunity to soak up the new angle, big blue eyes lingering on every inch of your glistening body. You couldn’t see him with how you were facing towards the top of the bed but you could feel him behind you, watching, his hand that wasn’t stroking his cock sliding down your spine. 

With a gentle push against your lower back, he firmly requested, “Show me.” 

You knew what he wanted as you bent forward at the waist and Pierre’s hands helped to drape your hair over one shoulder so he didn’t get a face full of it as you leaned over top of him. You rested on your forearms on either side of his head, trying to glance back over your shoulder towards the other man behind you. Pierre caressed your body with his large hands, sliding down to your hips and over the curve of your ass before he was grabbing two snug handfuls of your flesh and pulling them apart to really show off how you were nestled right down on him. Despite the shift in position, you kept pushing back on his dick in lazy motions, whining softly at the pressure that the length of him pushed deep inside you. 

George exhaled warmly from his front row seat, watching how you were wrapped around Pierre’s cock so tightly with your every motion, speaking lowly from behind you, “You’re so stretched out.” 

“Isn’t she?” Pierre took his hand back to give your ass a smack before he was sliding his palms up to your waist and gave your curves a squeeze as he flexed his hips up into you, “Such a perfect fucking pussy for us. Such a perfect fucking girl.” 

Your fingers grasped onto the sheets on either side of him with a groan from your chest, stalling your motions to let him take over for you. You stared down at him from your rightful spot on top of him, lip between your teeth, keeping your eyes locked on his. 

“Pretty little slut just wants to be used.” he cooed, gently nudging up into you in precise shallow thrusts and watching how your expression faltered. 

“Oh my God, Pierre-“ you whimpered softly and you pushed yourself up onto your hands on either side of his head. At that new position you could arch your back just a little more to help him find just the right angle inside you. Your mouth dropped open with a hearty moan as your grip tightened on the pillow over straight arms. 

Pierre pushed himself a little harder, thrusting up into you with a tight grunt of his own, keeping a strong pace just deep enough to kiss your g-spot head on every time. His hands gripped your hips tighter, unbothered by how George shifted across the bed and yanked open your bedside table again. You, especially, were ignorant to his move as you were so easily put back into that trance of pleasure by the control of his just as handsome counterpart. 

Your soft whimpers only spurred Pierre on and you grew louder by the second, filling your bedroom at the late hour with your euphoric gasps and squeals, chanting to the four walls and the man below you, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, right there!”

“Yeah?” Pierre spoke up to you through his teeth, “Does that feel good, baby? Feeling something so big in your tiny little pussy?”

“Fuck-“ you choked out, forcing your head to turn away as his vulgar words made his eye contact almost too overwhelming. 

Feeling George coming up behind you was expected and Pierre slowed for a moment to make sure you were all situated. You weren’t sure of George’s intentions at first until his lube streaked hand was smearing over your asshole and down to where Pierre was nestled inside you and back up again. 

“I think our girl has been so fucking good for us that we should give her what she wanted now.” George suggested. 

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” Pierre agreed, keeping his hands on your waist to hold you in place with you leaning over top of him on your hands still. 

You had tried anal with each of them only a handful of times total before but never in a circumstance like this so you couldn’t help the way your grip tightened on the sheets in uncertain anticipation. George’s full lips pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder and then another to your neck as he moved closer to angle the protected head of his cock between your full cheeks, right next to where Pierre was already nestled inside you. 

“You still want this?” George asked against your sweaty skin. 

“Yeah,” you exhaled, “so badly.”

“Use your words.” he coaxed as he nudged the head of his dick against your asshole. 

So you repeated the words they made you say out loud in the taxi, pleading to them both with an angelic whisper, “I want you both inside me.”

“Good girl.” George praised, sliding his left hand up your back to keep you bent over top of Pierre while his other hand carefully guided his dick to press a little harder against your tight rim of muscle. 

“Slow, slow, slow.” you hurried out in a half nervous panic. 

“Shh, I know.” he cooed easily as he started to push inside you the slightest amount, “I got you.”

“Look at me.” Pierre spoke from below you, urging your eyes to lock on his again, “There you are.”

He reached a hand up to set on the back of your neck to bring your forehead down to his, keeping you close with your eye contact unbreaking, giving you that slight distraction as George pushed inside you slowly. 

“You’re such a good fucking girl.” he spoke right to your face in a hushed tone, his voice laced with warm heavenly lust as you stared into his comforting blue eyes, “Our perfect fucking cockslut so willing to take both of us at the same time.”

“Mhm.” you whimpered out, trying to breathe through the aching stretch that radiated over your hips and deep inside you. 

“Gonna feel so fucking good. We’re gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

George gave your hips a gentle squeeze as he held you in place, “This okay?”

“Yeah.” you squeaked out. 

“Can you take more?”

“Gimme it all.” you answered easily. 

The two men chuckled warmly at your quick reply and George kept pushing into you, watching how your incredibly tight body took him in so snugly. His own warm groan was igniting, his large hand kneading the flesh of your hips as he eased deeper into you.

“There you go, that’s our girl.” Pierre cooed up at you, scratching his fingers along your hairline at the nape of your neck.

George added, “Just want every last inch so you’re completely fucking stuffed with dick.”

“I love it.” you blurted out shakily in reply. 

“Yeah?” Pierre licked away his cocky smile as he slid his hand from the back of your neck to wrap his fingers around your throat instead, “Fucking slut.”

Then, he gently pushed you away from him with that hand around your neck and eased you up into more of a sitting position on top of him but neither of you broke your intense eye contact. The slight shift had the both of them pushing against all the right spots inside you and your mouth fell open faintly with a soft moan, eyebrows furrowing, shifting ever so slightly in place to feel the heat of that strong pressure that burned within you. With your palms anchored on Pierre’s bare chest, you took a second to familiarize yourself with the newfound position and George’s tender hand draped your frazzled hair over one shoulder. 

“How’s that feel?” George asked from behind you, his warm breath fanning across your neck. 

“Mm,” you leaned back into him slightly and his lips pressed a slow open mouthed kiss to your shoulder as you kept your attention on the warm snug fullness from the both of them, “so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” George’s hand slid around your waist to dip down and gently caress your clit, urging your body to shutter under his ghostly touch. 

“This what you wanted?” Pierre taunted, tightening his hand around your throat. 

“Fuck yeah.” you exhaled, already starting to try and move on the both of them despite the scrunch of your nose at the intense stretch that radiated across your hips and deep inside you. Slowly and steadily, the initial discomfort eased into pure pleasure and as the seconds passed, your cautious movements could shift into needier rocks of your hips back onto the both of them with your nails pressing into Pierre’s pecs beneath you, scratching through the faint hair. 

“Good girl.” they both said at the same time. Despite their simultaneous praise, their attention was too focused on you to really notice or care, falling into the pleasurable sensations themselves of not only getting the privilege to feel you, but the added snugness that came with the second individual nestled inside you alongside themselves. 

George started to meet your motions on his own too, giving you gentle thrusts to ease you open a little more, keeping his slender fingers petting your clit in lazy circles to keep you distracted from any possible soreness. His lips were nearly magnetized to your neck and shoulder and his warm breath and soft groans of his own fanned across your skin and rose shivers in his wake, the sensations only made more intense by the way Pierre’s hand gripped the sides of your neck. You couldn’t help the pleading whine that fell from your lips as you rode both of them at the same time, taking your hands from Pierre’s chest to move to your own and you squeezed and pinched your breasts in your palms just to add yet another point of contact to your overwhelmed body. 

Pierre’s hand moved from your neck just long enough to give your cheek a sharp slap and your gasp took even you by surprise, only making him hit you again while his other hand squeezed your doughy hip as if to tug you back and forth on his lap with more intensity. The two of them sounded heavenly with their harmonious moans and panted breaths of their own, the two bringing music to your ears as you made them feel as good as they did to you. The world was hazy as you surrounded yourself with their pleasure, encouraging them with a messy tumble of whimpers from your swollen parted lips into the warm air of your bedroom. 

Once Pierre grabbed hold of your waist and started to nudge his hips up into you again, your hands dropped down to his chest to ground yourself, gasping out a pleading chant of, “Please, please, please, please-”

George grabbed a snug handful of your hair, mocking you warmly, “Please, please, please, please, what?” 

Pierre was right on his side with a taunting, “Want us to fuck you harder?” 

You nodded quickly, your messy curls falling over your face, “Uh huh.”

“Say it.” Pierre demanded without tearing his eyes away from your flushed face. 

George backed him up with ease, insisting to you firmly, “Say it. Use your fucking words and tell us what you want.”

You whimpered in reply, trying to arrange words in your head first to try and piece together a logical sentence before you stumbled out some slurred plea of, “Please fuck me harder. Please gimme more.”

“That’s my good girl.” Pierre praised up at you through his teeth, his hands tightening on your waist as he shoved up into you a little more, forcing a gasp from your chest. 

George took his hand from your hair to reach down to grab a handful of your ass and he pried at your flesh to open you up a little more without faltering his thrusts, permitting himself deeper as he gave you harder longer strokes that halted your air in your lungs for a moment. With his other hand, he smacked his palm down hard against your other cheek which triggered you to inhale sharply and your nails dug down into Pierre’s chest. 

“Yes!” you squealed, “Yes, yes - fuck!” 

With his feet anchored on the bed, Pierre kept his shallow thrusts up into you and shifted his hands so one was resting around your back and the other was pressing the heel of his palm into your lower stomach. The warm, tingling pressure it pushed through your insides literally had your eyes rolling and your toes curling and the lewd sounds that tumbled from your lips were completely involuntary. 

George suddenly grasped your arms and yanked them back, taking your hands from Pierre’s chest so he could straighten you up a little more and securely hold you in place. You never complained when they moved you however they wanted - well, most times - and this was no different since you had waited so long to be able to experience the both of them at the same time. You would gladly submit to either. 

With George’s tight grip on your biceps to secure your arms back, keeping you right up straight against his chest, and Pierre’s palm still pressing into your abdomen, you swore you were getting dizzy with it all. In fact, Pierre was witness to the glossiness of your expression and the withering expression that smeared across your face despite the sweetest sounds that you made for them. 

“Holy shit.” Pierre groaned through his firm focus to keep thrusting up into you. 

“You take it so fucking well.” George spoke lowly against your ear through his panted breaths, shooting shivers down your spine by the way his accent was thick with lust. His caramel skin pressed stickily to yours, entangled limbs of sweat and heat, his fingertips pressing indentations into your rouged flesh as his hips collided with your ass over and over again. It was a dreamy haze and you nearly felt out-of-body. 

Words had abandoned you in exchange for a mumbling, gasping, mess of whimpers and moans as the two men had their way with you. George shifted behind you slightly to get one foot flat on the bed for a better angle, letting your arms go so he could grab your hips again, and his thrusts were strong and deep and at such a pace that left you nearly drooling. With your arms free, you fell forward onto your hands again, pressing your palms flat onto the mattress on either side of Pierre’s head, arching your back a little more to keep the both of them hitting just the right spots. 

Pierre’s mouth wrapped around one of your nipples as you leaned over him and he toyed with it between tongue and teeth, moaning against your breast from beneath you. He grabbed your ass in two large handfuls to keep you spread for the both of them and you ended up slumping from hands to elbows on top of him. As the two of them worked to build that coiling pleasure within you, your pitchy moans were melting right into Pierre’s neck as you wrapped your arms around his head in desperate need to cling onto something. 

“That’s it, cherié.” Pierre cooed against your ear, smacking his hand down hard against your ass, “Give it up for us.”

You sunk your teeth down into his toned shoulder, smothering you uncontrollable noises as they both fucked you from either side, keeping you rightfully in the middle of them. George’s hands pressed into the small of your back to keep you ached just enough to keep them in all the right places and you were nearly sobbing into Pierre’s neck. 

“You gonna cum for us, gorgeous?” George taunted breathily. 

“Yes, sir.” you replied squeakily, knowing if you didn’t use your words they would make you waste more time by trying again. Instead, you force your nonsensical brain to try and piece together as many pleas as you could, mumbling your words into Pierre’s neck, “I’m gonna cum so fucking hard for you. Please, please, please don’t stop!”

“Is our good fucking girl gonna cum on both of us?” Pierre egged you on against your ear, his voice strained slightly as he kept the effort up to keep thrusting up into you. 

“Yeah, she is.” George continued, keeping a stone grip on your hips so he was nearly yanking you back into his thrusts, “Come on, baby. Come on.”

Arms wrapped entirely around Pierre’s head, you were a squealing mess against his neck with your teeth leaving indentations in his skin and a slick shimmer of your spit behind, rushing out a pitchy chant as you grew closer and closer exponentially, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Fils de pute, you’re getting so tight-” Pierre said through his teeth, not slowing down for a second, “Let it out for us. Come on.” 

As it reached that impossible precipice, your entire body tensed right up and you flew one hand out to slam flat against your headboard with a silent gape into Pierre’s neck. Your body shuddered violently between them, letting the intense waves of pleasure overtake you until your vision went spotted for a few seconds and the ringing in your ears had the world falling away. They had you quite literally vibrating with euphoria and as your senses came back, you gasped through your orgasm with a quivering moan that nearly echoed between your bedroom walls. 

“Good girl!” George praised loudly from behind you, still keeping his pace going despite the way your legs were quivering. 

“Putain.” Pierre groaned sharply and pulled his hands back from your ass to push at your hips. 

You barely had a second to get your senses back before George was following Pierre’s lead and pulling out so they could flip you right over onto your back against your bed. Panting and shuttering, the moans that fell from your lips were warm and full of bliss and as you blinked yourself back into reality, you watched them both come up on either side of you on their knees. Condoms off and their dicks in your face, you habitually opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, blindly grasping onto their thighs on either side of your head as they finished themselves off too. 

“Look at you.” Pierre groaned behind the slick sound of his hand pumping his cock, “So fucking ready for it.”

“Want our cum all over your fucking face?” George taunted, his motions mirroring Pierre’s on your other side. “Our gorgeous fucking cumslut.”

You nodded dumbly, scrunching your eyes shut in anticipation, clenching your trembling thighs together from the aftershocks of your intense orgasm only made worse by the sight of both of them directly above you like that. Mere moments later, Pierre was coming first by only a second or two, the first thick spurt landing right across your tongue as he moaned prettily through your bedroom. George matched his timing almost perfectly, sharing in the privilege of streaking your face in thick shots of white, a few reaching up to your messy hair and almost getting in your eye. 

There was so much of it from the both of them combined that you were almost covered in it but that fact just brought a grin to your face, keeping your eyes closed as you blindly wrapped your hands around their dicks and guided them into your mouth one at a time to lick clean. One of them had his hand in your hair, both of them moaning and panting handsomely, praising you honestly, touching you all they could as you tended to them generously. The other smeared his hand through the mess across your face and then shoved his fingers in your open mouth to make more of a mess of both cum and spit and then slapped his hand down hard against your cheek. 

“Holy fuck.” you giggled. 

“Stay there.” Pierre said before shifting slightly from his spot beside you. 

You couldn’t open your eyes given the amount of cum that was streaked across your face and over your closed eyes but you trusted them. The click of your camera shutter gave his idea away and you held your hands in front of your face with a bashful laugh. 

“Pierre.” you scolded lightheartedly. 

“What? You look incredible.” he protested. 

“Really, really sexy.” George agreed before adding, “Was this all that you wanted?”

“Yeah.” you smiled, licking your lips from the salty substance that they claimed you in. 

George's gentle hand then touched your face, a start comparison to the roughness from the rest of the evening, and he started to wipe your face with a tissue, “Here you go.”

“What a gentleman.” you giggled, although you took the tissue from him to do it yourself. 

Pierre set the camera and developing polaroid on your bedside table before slumping back against your headboard with a heavy sigh, draping his arm above his head as he watched you clean yourself up a little. You tossed the soiled tissue in the general direction of your trash can, too in need of a breather at that moment to care if it made it in on the first try. Pierre then reached back over to your bedside table and opened the drawer to pull out the box of cigarettes that was kept inside just for moments of drop-off ecstasy like this. He set one between his lips and then grabbed your lighter to light up before tossing the box and lighter towards George who was resting beside you with an expectant outstretched hand. 

As you were laid diagonally across your bed, you let Pierre pull your feet across his lap as he rested back against the pillows and headboard with his cigarette and he gave your calves a tender squeeze, sending you a little wink. George first set a cigarette between your lips for you and as you framed it between middle and forefinger, he lit it for you too. You tucked a hand behind your head as you took your first drag and let the nicotine relax your buzzing pleasure sensors, blowing out the first puff towards the ceiling. 

Silence lingered for a moment as the three of you came down from the euphoria of the night, each sharing in the guilty pleasures of a cigarette after sex and the lingering sensation of satisfaction that it brought. Pierre’s hand caressed your shin absentmindedly and George was resting back on his arm beside you, lost in your profile through the haze of smoke that surrounded you. 

“Well,” you broke the silence first, pursing your lips to blow another stream of smoke towards the ceiling with the cigarette balanced between your fingers, “that was the most incredible thing that I’ve ever done.”

Pierre chuckled warmly from the opposite side of the bed, “That was the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”

George just let a faint smirk prick at his lips as he took another drag of his cigarette. With the dart between his slender fingers, he leaned down towards you to kiss your cheek and then your temple and then you turned your face to welcome a quick kiss to your lips. 

“Feeling okay?” he asked. 

“Mhm.” you pushed yourself up into a sitting position with your cigarette balanced between your lips and you reached a hand down to slide your fingers between your legs, smearing through the slick wetness that you were covered in right down to your thighs and over your aching muscles. 

“Sore?” Pierre asked. 

“Yeah.” you smiled over at him and plucked your cigarette from between your lips as you rested back on your other hand. “In a good way though.” 

His eyes flicked across your naked body as he pulled another drag from his cigarette before warning you lightly, “If you don’t close your legs I might end up going down on you right now.”

You shut your legs with a soft giggle, knowing you were way too sensitive to even risk another faint touch from either of them. George’s lips met your neck again, kissing down over your shoulder, and as the shivers he left tore down your spine, you curled away from him with a giggle and flopped into Pierre’s side instead. 

“So fucking sensitive, aren’t you?” George chuckled. 

“You two did a number on me.” you protested matter-of-factly as Pierre’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and he pulled you into him with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

George leaned over you two with one last puff of his cigarette before he was stamping it out on the saucer on your bedside table and left it there so he could have both hands free to tend to your feet in tender rubs. You smiled at him through your own cigarette, lifting your right foot up to help him get a better grip and he pressed his thumbs into the sole of your foot before pushing them up and outwards firmly. Your soft hum of appreciation was taken by Pierre’s lips on your cheek and he peppered a few chasté kisses across your rouged face as you stayed tucked up under his arm. The three of you were all still completely naked but after the escapades of the night, it was nothing you hadn’t all seen before and your attention was more focused on smoking and relaxing than anything else of salacious sustenance. 

Pierre put out his cigarette on the small saucer beside your bed too before he was looking back over to you and gently turning your head by a finger against your chin so he could kiss you properly. You only shared a few single kisses like that - far too tired out for anything more - and he left one more to your temple as you broke away and settled into his side again with a content sigh. George’s eyes were all on you as he kept massaging your feet generously and soon slid his warm palms up your shins and back down along your calves. 

“You’re an angel.” you spoke to him sweetly. 

“Anything for my best pal.” he winked. 

“Best pal that you just fucked up the ass.” you teased, “You do that with Mansell too?”

George scoffed in disgust at the mention of his much older Williams teammate with a, “Very funny.”

You giggled and gave him a gentle nudge with your foot against his chest. Then, you were passing over your burnt out cigarette to Pierre and he took the hint to stamp it out for you too. You thanked him with a fleeting kiss to his cheek before you were shifting out of his arms and getting up to climb off the bed with an announcement that you were going to the bathroom to clean up, stepping over the multiple discarded and well used condoms that littered the floor.

After a quick pee and sufficient time spent with one foot up on the counter and a damp cloth between your legs, you declared yourself tidied up and you emerged from your small bathroom and took the few short steps back into your bedroom. The two young men were back in their underwear and the condoms that had once scattered the floor along with their wrappers were nowhere to be seen. Your clothes were gathered and folded on your dresser in three neat piles and as Pierre arranged your bedside table and the polaroid pictures, George was distracted at your desk rifling through your few magazines. 

You smiled fondly at the scene and returned to your bed on which your once messy sheets were pulled somewhat neater, “Wow, you two are the full package - incredible lovers and you clean my room for me. Wanna move in?” 

“What, like some weird polyamorous throuple?” Pierre snorted before tossing the polaroids in your direction as he changed the subject, “Check these out.”

You gathered the four small pictures from the bed and glanced over each of them and how they had captured your night in the filthiest of ways, to be permanently saved as a physical memory. As you did, Pierre excused himself to get you some water and take his turn in the bathroom. 

From across your modest room, George spoke up with a magazine in hand and a proud smile, “You have my front cover issue.”

“Of course I do.” you boasted with a grin. 

He looked back down at the Motor Racing magazine that housed an on-track shot of his Williams race car in vibrant blue, yellow, and white, donning the crisp number 63 on the front in bold type. The subheading on the cover read George Russell; Williams Rookie Wins in Austria. 

Pulling him from his moment of reflection, you looked back down at the polaroids, “These are really fucking hot, Georgie. Come see.”

He set the magazine back down on your desk and strode over to your bed to join you, perching himself on the edge and he leaned in towards the middle to see the collection of tiny photographs spread out in front of you. Licking his lips at the sight that each frame held, he pressed his finger to one of them, “That’s my favourite.”

“Because I’m looking back at you like I’m straight out of fucking Playboy.” you snorted.

“Yeah? So what? I like it when you look at me like that.” he boasted with a shrug. 

When you glanced at him, he was already looking at you, only a few short inches away from your face and under his stare you licked away your bashful smile and looked back down to the pictures. But then, you were reaching out a hand to set on George’s arm, looking at him again in realization of what you had forgotten to ask when you first met up that night, “How was Silverstone?”

“It was fine.” George shifted in place to tuck his legs up on the mattress so he could sit more comfortably on your bed beside you, resting a hand behind you so he was still turned to face your direction slightly, “Had high hopes starting on pole today but had a shit start and I ended up retiring with a broken exhaust. Nigel was out too: clutch failure. Prost won.”

“I’m sorry.”

George shrugged, “Ah well. There’s always the next race.”

“You’ll get it. No doubt in my mind.”

You shared small smiles and then he leaned in to kiss your lips once. 

“Listen,” he cleared his throat a moment, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nodded him on, suddenly feeling a little silly being completely naked in front of him when his tone shifted into something serious sounding. 

George set his free hand on your thigh, gently caressing your warm skin with his calloused thumb as he stared right into your eyes as he spoke his peace in a quiet voice, “I know that everything is hectic with my schedule and how I’m always traveling for races but I wanted to clear the air with you before I leave for Germany next week. I was wondering if we could kinda make this exclusive from now on?”

“This?” you questioned dumbly. “Yeah, you and me.” he went on, “You think I have all these girls but I really don’t. I don’t really have time for all that between traveling and training and races and whatnot. Honestly, you’re the only girl I’ve been seeing for a little while now and I don’t want that to stop but…I wanted to see if you were on the same page. I feel like after tonight, now is the right time to bring this up.”

Your mouth moulded into a small ‘o’ as you tried to process what he was saying and think of what you wanted to reply with. What he was pitching was big news and felt heavy on your mind. You were so incredibly into him but was going exclusive what you wanted? 

As if sensing your surprise and your hesitation, George gave your knee a reassuring squeeze, “You don’t have to answer right now. Just think about it and let me know, okay?”

You pulled a small smile and nodded. When he leaned in briefly, you accepted his quick kiss, just as Pierre returned, re-dressed, with a full glass of water for you. 

“There you are.” he said gently, passing the glass into your hand.

“Thank you.” you replied in a whisper, offering him a brief smile before taking a sip of water to moisten your suddenly incredibly dry mouth. 

George gave your thigh another squeeze before he was getting up, excusing himself to the bathroom too. You watched him leave and then let out a breath, worried to make one wrong move and blow up the two entirely fragile relationships you had going on with the both of them. Maybe bringing them into awareness of each other wasn’t the best idea…that realization was starting to settle over your conscience. 

“Did you want to get dressed?” Pierre asked you, “You might start getting cold.”

“Yeah, good idea.” you stacked the polaroids up and leaned over to set them and your glass of water on your bedside table but he was already a step ahead of you and brought over your underwear and a shirt for you to put on. You thanked him softly and shifted onto your knees on the bed to quickly dress. 

Standing beside you, watching, Pierre took that opportunity of momentary privacy to say his peace too, “So I’ve been thinking…”

Pausing with your head half in your shirt, you felt yourself tense, “Uh huh?”

“What do you think about doing this…you and me thing…exclusively?” 

Oh for fucks sake.

You tugged your shirt on all the way and then flopped onto your bum and rested back against the pillows and headboard with a sigh and a furrowed brow.

“Before you say no,” Pierre sat on the side of the bed, fiddling with his hands, “I know I’m no internationally known Formula 1 driver but I think what you and I have is really special. It can’t be something we just…ignore.”

It wasn’t often that Pierre got nervous - he was always so cool and collected and had a smooth wit about him that gave the impression that he knew he was above everyone else without being conceded. Maybe it was a little cute. But you just shook your head in amusement and then set your palms over your face. 

“I dunno.” you mumbled into your hands. “Do you need an answer now?”

“No. No, of course not.” he promised, “You have my number. You can let me know whenever. I’m not going anywhere.”

You dropped your hands to your lap with a sigh, “Okay.” 

He reached over and set his hand on your two and leaned in for a few quick kisses to your lips and one more to your nose before sitting back again, “Okay.”

“I’m just really tired.” you mumbled, “I don’t trust my brain to make any logical decisions right now.”

“That’s okay.” Pierre gave your hand a squeeze. 

“That’s partially your fault anyway.” you whispered.

His smile only widened and he scoffed playfully, “Well, I hope so. My job is not done until you’re nearly bedridden.”

“Okay.” you laughed lightly, “Cocky.”

Pierre just leaned in and pressed his smiling lips to yours, sharing a few quick kisses with you that made your stomach flip-flop. You raised a hand up to slide around the back of his neck and he dipped his face into your neck to kiss up under your ear, making you shiver and raise your shoulder up with a giggle. He nipped at your earlobe and then sat back again to look at you properly, taking a second to brush your frazzled hair out of your face as he stared at you for a moment. 

Just then, George was returning to your room in his plaid slacks back on and his fingers working on the buttons of his white collared shirt, announcing a casual, “I should go.” 

You knew he should too but part of you sank at his simple statement, possibly not wanting to admit that the night was over. You simply mumbled, “Yeah. It’s late.”

Pierre stood up from the side of your bed just so they could switch places. George leaned down to give you a quick kiss, “I’ll call you tomorrow?”

You nodded. 

He kissed your cheek before whispering against the shell of your ear, “Tonight was fucking incredible. You were fucking incredible.” 

You pushed your hand against his chest with a tisk, “Get the fuck outta here.”

George took a step back again, finishing buttoning his shirt. From your spot on your bed, you watched as he and Pierre shared casual pleasantries along the lines of ‘nice to meet you’ and ‘have a good rest of your night’ over another handshake. Then, George was gone and you listened for the sound of your apartment door closing and you distracted the slight emptiness within you with your eyes following Pierre around your room. 

But as you sat there for a few seconds, ignorant to whatever Pierre had just said to you casually, that heaviness inside you only grew larger until you were blinking back tears. Swearing under your breath, you pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes and tried to calm yourself down and pull yourself out of this silly momentary depression. Pierre’s warm hand on your wrist guided your hands away from your face and you were met with his worried expression, concern filling his sweet blue eyes.

“Hey,” he cooed, “what’s wrong?”

“Can you go get him?” you asked shakily, letting your request tumble from your lips without realization from your brain that it was something that was on your mind, “Don’t let him leave yet.”

Pierre didn’t even reply before he was hurrying out of your room and across your modest apartment and you heard the sound of the front door open but not close. Embarrassed, you hid your face in your hands again with your knees curled up to your face in the centre of your bed, only privy to the faint muffled voices from the general direction of the hallway. Then, you heard the front door shut and two pairs of feet were hurrying across your floorboards and then the mattress dipped on either side of you as you were framed by the two young men.

“We’re here.” George said softly, rubbing his hand over your back, “What’s going on?”

You sniffled into your hands, “I dunno, I just got really sad, I’m sorry.”

Pierre petted your hair and he promised you, “You don’t have to say sorry.”

“That’s my fault.” George said to you, “I shouldn’t have just rushed out of here until I knew you were okay. Not after such a crazy night.”

You nodded with a tremble to your bottom lip and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder to guide you in so he could kiss your temple. You kept your hands over your face even as he held you under his arm for a moment and Pierre shuffled closer on your other side to keep you equally comforted and warm. 

“Can you both stay tonight?” you asked ever so softly, almost unintelligible. 

“Yeah.” Pierre agreed easily, “Of course.”

“Sure, we can.” George answered at the same time. 

“We don’t do this.” you sniffled as you stated the obvious fact that came with your no-strings-attached relationships with the both of them. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Pierre kissed your head. 

“We’re not going to just leave you like this simply because spending the night is something we don’t often do.” George said with his hand rubbing over your arm as you shivered in only your thin t-shirt. 

“Let’s warm you up.” Pierre shifted away from you and started to pull back the sheets of your bed. 

George got up too to help you get under the blankets and tuck them up around you as you rested back against the headboard and then he was unbuttoning his shirt again and dropping it to the floor. Pierre dropped his jeans too and then joined you under the covers, right away swallowing you up in his arms as you shivered slightly and blinked away your tears. When George joined you in bed too, he brought with him your water glass that had been left on your bedside table earlier and he carefully held it for you to help you sip a little more. 

“Good girl.” Pierre whispered as you drank your water. “Finish that up for us.”

You took the glass from George to finish it yourself and when it was empty, he set it back on your bedside table for you. Despite the lack of words you had to fill the silent air time, your mind was whirling a mile a minute and especially surrounding the conversations that both men had with you back to back about what they wanted your situation to look like moving forward. If nothing else, this drop you were experiencing and the necessary care they knew to give you only made things feel much more complicated. 

But then you were sinking under the blankets until Pierre could tuck them right up to your chin and you turned to curl yourself into George’s side, wrapping your arm around his middle and resting your head on his chest. He slid his arm around you too so you were snuggled close and he kissed your forehead, making sure you were comfortable there and sufficiently wrapped up in limbs and blankets. Pierre scooted right up beside you and brushed your hair from your face gently, lulling you to sleep quickly in the safety that the both of them brought to you. 

The haze of the morning settled over your consciousness as you blinked yourself awake in the comforting familiarity of your bedroom. Your aching body had you wincing slightly as you roused and you shifted to stretch out the soreness in your muscles despite the arm that laid heavily around your middle. You glanced over to see Pierre still fast asleep beside you, breathing calmly, long lashes resting on pink cheeks, and his permed brunette hair in a wild mess atop his head. 

You sniffled casually as your stuffy nose was a reminder of your few tears shed the night before and the stinging of your eyes was of any indication of a hangover and the remanence of your momentary wallows in the middle of the night. Pressing the heel of your palm to one of your eyes, you winced through the discomfort that the morning brought and tried to piece together any recollection of what exactly had happened. The smell of bacon and eggs wafting from the kitchen certainly helped as it solved the mystery as to where your third member had disappeared to and that and the promise of painkillers helped to lure you out of bed.

Moving slowly so as to not wake Pierre, you made sure he was tucked back under the sheets before you slid into your slippers and pulled George’s oversized plaid jacket on to keep yourself warm within the air conditioned apartment and your limited clothing. Sure enough, George was in the kitchen cheffing away at the stove in only his boxers with your boom box radio playing quietly from the corner of the counter. He was whistling along to the pop songs as he tended to the sizzling bacon in the pan. 

The creak of the floor boards under your feet had him glancing over with that handsome smile and with the spatula in hand, he came over to greet you with a kiss to your cheek and a friendly, “Morning.”

“Good morning.” you replied quietly as you leaned against the counter and watched him return to the stove. 

“Feeling better?” he asked. 

“Yeah, emotionally.” you answered, “Thanks for staying. I know it was kinda weird…especially with three of us sharing the bed.”

“Nah, no need to apologize.” George assured you with a quick glance, “I’d never give up a night with you, no matter how many times I was pushed off the bed last night.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, “Did I kick you off?”

George laughed, “Only once or twice. There wasn’t much room…but that’s okay. As long as you slept well and are feeling more yourself this morning.”

“Just a hangover…and I’m a little sore.” you confessed and slid over to him at the stove, wrapping your arm around his bicep to whisper against his shoulder, “My ass hurts like a bitch.”

He licked away the smirk that played at his lips and he glanced over at you, “That’s too bad.”

You gave his arm a squeeze, “No hangover for you?”

“A small one…just powering through to make you a hearty breakfast.” he said as he looked back at the pan, carefully nudging the bacon around in the crackling grease. Then, he gestured towards the coffee pot, “Coffee is fresh too, if you want some. Helps take the edge off.”

“Thanks.” you sighed in relief and poured yourself a half cup in your favourite mug. 

“I gotta say, you’re quite the looker in that suit.” George complimented. 

You did a little spin in his plaid jacket, the lengthy tails whooshing out from your legs slightly, “Why thank you.”

“I was just wondering if it looks as ridiculous on me as it does on you.” 

“Oh, no.” you answered smoothly, “It looks far better on me.”

George sent you a pointed glare, “Ha, ha.”

You just hid your smile behind a sip of hot coffee and rested back against the counter nearby, giving him his space but still lingering close to get that fix of affection and attention you craved. It was so domestic and lovely and the back of your mind played your brief conversation from the night before on repeat, knowing that George was leaning more towards the concept of having you to himself. It didn’t necessarily mean to be his girlfriend but it was certainly a step towards that direction and you hadn’t given that concept any prior thought. 

But Pierre was in the same boat and you couldn’t imagine yourself just cutting him out that easily either. He was also incredibly special to you and you had a connection with him that was just as strong and passionate as the one you had with George. Oh, you were too hungover for this crossroads. You took another lengthy sip of your coffee. 

The creak of the floorboards had you looking over to Pierre emerging from your bedroom looking like he had seen better days. His hair looked like he had been struck by lightning and the alcohol-induced bags under his eyes were only made worse from the lack of sleep and when he rubbed at them, it just made his eyes red. But the sight of him still made you grin and you greeted him with a sweet good morning just like you had with George moments before. 

“Morning.” Pierre replied gruffly, slumping forward over the other side of the island from you, “I have a wicked hangover this morning.”

You offered out your mug, “Coffee?”

“Thanks.” he mumbled and took the mug from you for a small sip.

You left him with that mug to go pour yourself a new one from the coffee pot on the counter before returning to the peninsula counter. 

Pierre reached across the counter to tug at the sleeve of the plaid jacket you wore, earning your attention again, “How are you feeling this morning, cherié?” 

You smiled over at him, “Better. Thank you for staying.”

“Of course.” 

George began to plate the breakfast and, as he did, he spoke to the both of you, “So I brought in the paper this morning and there was a cover story that you might want to take a look at.”

You and Pierre exchanged slightly confused expressions but George gestured over to the table where the morning paper was waiting and the two of you walked over to lean over top of it and read the headlines. The one that caught your eye first only did so because of the large paparazzi photograph of George entering the club in his freshly ironed plaid suit and large framed sunglasses,

Formula 1: Russell bandages Silverstone DNF with menage et toi

“Holy shit.” you gaped, setting your mug down on the table a little too hard in exchange for the paper in your hands to get a closer look. 

Pierre, with furrowed brows, leaned over your shoulder to keep reading too, slowly vocalizing only the key few lines from the article printed in the fresh ink letters from that morning’s paper, “An anonymous source reported that Russell and his two companions were seen entering a taxi together where lewd touching and saucy whispers were shared in the backseat.”

George set the breakfast plates down on the table for the three of you as if unbothered by the public humiliation that came with the British tabloids slandering his image on the front page of the paper. He wiped his hands on the tea towel that was draped over his shoulder, watching the both of you for any sort of reaction as the three of you sat around the table. Pierre just kept re-reading and you finally looked up at him with an expression of absolute bafflement. 

“It’s gotta be the taxi driver.” Pierre scoffed, “Who else would have known what was going on in the backseat? Fucking pervert.” 

“This is bad, Georgie.” you insisted. 

“Nah,” he exhaled, “it’s just another dig that the tabloids publish about me. I’m just used to it now. Half of the things they write are complete ludacris anyway so what’s one more crazy story…if anything it keeps my name current.”

“It’s not fair on you.” you pressed.

“No, but what can you do? They’re going to say whatever they want. I’ve learned you just gotta deal with it and let it roll off your back. I’m more worried about what you two think.”

“I mean…it’s really weird knowing that this is about me. But they don’t have my picture or name so I don’t care, really.” Pierre shrugged, “Otherwise I’d be worried about my boss seeing.”

They both looked at you for your response next. 

You took a second to comprehend it all - the first time you were mentioned on the front page of the newspaper. Of course, it wasn’t by name or with a picture but you knew it was about you and it was a strange feeling; some sort of mix of embarrassment and pride. Hiding your face behind the newspaper, you attempted to hide your giggle but of course the guys saw right through you. 

Pierre snatched it out of your hand, “What are you laughing at, huh?”

“I’m mentioned on the front page of the newspaper like a real little motorsport groupie.” you beamed cheekily, wrapping yourself up in the excess fabric of George’s jacket you still wore. 

“For the last time: you’re not a groupie.” George tisked. 

“Well,” Pierre argued lightly in response, “what else would you call a slut who giggles excitedly at public attention like this?”

You grabbed the newspaper right out of Pierre’s hand just to smack him over the head with it in retaliation. George just chuckled into his bite of bacon.

The three of you eating breakfast together felt weirdly normal, as if you all had been friends for ages and that you weren’t in some weird friends-with-benefits situation with the both of them. As you ate and conversation flowed, you couldn’t help but see further intentions behind each of their actions or their words, trying to ignore their ulterior motives stemming from their individual pitches to you from the night before. You brushed the thoughts aside and tried to convince yourself that maybe they were just drunk and they didn’t even recall asking you to be exclusive. Maybe if you never spoke of it again it would just go away and life would continue on as is. You liked it as is.

When breakfast was done and the three of you shared the responsibility of cleaning up the kitchen, the natural progression of the late morning meant they would have to start to head out; George’s parents would be wondering where he was - he reminded you with an eye roll - and Pierre said he had an appointment at the bank to make. So they got dressed and you reluctantly gave George back his jacket and you stood with them in the foyer as they got their shoes back on and were ready for goodbyes. 

In only slip-on loafers, George was ready to go first and he stepped over to you to set a hand on your waist and he leaned in to kiss your cheek and then your lips before whispering just quiet enough for only you to hear, “Think about what I said, okay?”

The reminder of your conversation from the night before had your heart in your throat and you nodded dumbly in reply, earning another quick kiss. Then he was switching spots with Pierre who wrapped you up tightly in his arms for a squeezy hug that forced a breathy laugh out of you. 

“I will call you later.” he promised against your ear, “We should talk about what I mentioned last night.”

You clutched onto the back of his jacket for a second longer with your eyes scrunched shut as if in disbelieving frustration. But then he was pulling out of your embrace so he could slide his hand around the side of your neck so he could guide you in to give you a few quick kisses. 

Swaying the subject, you directed to the both of them as you followed them to the door, “Thank you for an amazing night.”

“Thank you for being such a gracious host.” George said lightheartedly in reply, stepping out into the hallway of your building. 

“Oh, any time.” you gushed with a casual lean against your door frame. 

Pierre laughed with a shake of his head and looked at George beside him, “We really just have great taste in women, don’t we?”

And, as if having known each other for years, George gave Pierre’s shoulder a friendly pat as they headed in the direction of the elevator together, “Indisputably.”

Some more pics that fit the vibes but didn't make the title images:

♡ Enjoying my content? Support my writing here :)

♡ None of the original writing on this blog may be reproduced, reposted, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

[pucksandpower]

Paddock Princess

Formula 1 (literally half the grid) x Vettel!Reader

Summary: when the drivers find out that you’re planning to have a baby all by yourself, they offer to help out by playing sperm roulette … the results are surprisingly wholesome

The buzz of excitement fills the air as the paddock comes to life on a sunny morning. Drivers, team personnel, and media representatives mill about, but there’s a palpable sense of anticipation among a particular group of racers gathered near the Ferrari motorhome.

Max leans against the sleek red structure, his eyes darting around nervously. “Has anyone seen her yet?” He asks, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and anxiety.

Charles shakes his head, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Not yet. But she should be here soon, right?”

“I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” Lando chimes in, bouncing on his toes. “It’s like something out of a movie.”

Carlos nods in agreement, a grin spreading across his face. “A very strange movie, but I’m here for it.”

George glances at his watch, his brow furrowed. “She’s usually here by now. You don’t think she’s having second thoughts, do you?”

“No way,” Oscar says confidently. “You know her. Once she sets her mind to something, that’s it.”

Lewis, standing slightly apart from the younger drivers, offers a reassuring smile. “Oscar’s right. She’s one of the most determined people I know. If this is what she wants, she’ll see it through.”

Logan, the newest addition to the group, shifts nervously. “I still can’t believe you guys talked me into this. My mom would freak if she knew.”

Alex pats him on the shoulder. “Relax, mate. It’s all anonymous, remember? Besides, think of how happy she’ll be.”

Fernando, leaning against a nearby barrier, nods sagely. “Exactly. We’re doing this for her, because she deserves it.”

Lance, who’s been quiet until now, suddenly straightens up. “Heads up, guys. I think I see her coming.”

The group falls silent as you approach, your press pass swinging from your neck and a warm smile on your face. “Morning, boys,” you greet them cheerfully. “Why do you all look like you’re up to something?”

Max clears his throat, trying to sound casual. “Us? Never. Just, uh, enjoying the nice weather.”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. And I suppose you’re all gathered here by pure coincidence?”

Charles steps forward, his charm on full display. “Can’t we just be happy to see our favorite reporter?”

You laugh, the sound lightening the mood. “Alright, alright. I’ll play along. But seriously, what’s going on? You’re all acting weird.”

The drivers exchange glances, silently debating who should speak first. Finally, Lewis takes the lead.

“We heard about your decision,” he says gently. “About wanting to have a baby.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Oh. I didn’t realize ... I mean, I only told a couple of people.”

Lando grins sheepishly. “Word travels fast in the paddock. Especially when it’s about you.”

You look around at the group, a mix of emotions playing across your face. “Okay, so you know. But that doesn’t explain why you’re all acting like you’re planning a heist.”

Carlos steps forward, his expression earnest. “We want to help.”

You blink, confusion evident in your eyes. “Help? How?”

George takes a deep breath before plunging in. “We’ve all agreed to donate sperm. To give you options, you know?”

Your jaw drops, and for a moment, you’re speechless. “You ... what?”

Oscar jumps in, his words tumbling out in a rush. “We know you said you were thinking about using a sperm bank, but we thought, well, why not use someone you actually know?”

“And trust,” Alex adds quickly.

You look around at the group, your expression a mix of shock, confusion, and something that might be amusement. “Let me get this straight. All of you,” you gesture at the assembled drivers, “want to donate sperm so I can have a baby?”

They nod in unison, and you can’t help but laugh. “This is ... I don’t even know what to say. It’s incredibly sweet, but also completely insane.”

Fernando steps forward, his expression serious. “We know it’s unconventional. But you’re important to all of us. We want to support you in any way we can.”

You shake your head, still trying to process the situation. “I appreciate that, truly. But guys, this is a huge decision. It’s not just about me having a baby. One of you would be a father.”

Max nods, his face set in determination. “We’ve thought about that. A lot, actually.”

“And we’re okay with it,” Lando adds. “Whatever level of involvement you want, we’ll respect that.”

You look at them, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Wait a minute. How exactly would this work? I can’t exactly pick one of you. That would be ...”

“Awkward,” Lance finishes for you. “We know. That’s why we came up with a plan.”

Logan, who’s been quiet until now, speaks up. “We’d all donate, and then the clinic would mix the samples together.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “So it would be like ... artificial insemination roulette?”

Carlos grins. “Exactly! That way, no one knows who the father is. It could be any of us.”

You shake your head, a disbelieving laugh escaping you. “This is absolutely crazy. You know that, right?”

Lewis steps closer, his expression gentle. “Maybe. But we all care about you. We want you to be happy, and we know how much you want this.”

You look around at the group, taking in their earnest expressions. “I don’t know what to say. This is ... a lot to process.”

George nods understandingly. “Of course it is. We don’t expect you to decide right now. Just ... think about it, okay?”

You nod slowly, still looking a bit dazed. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But guys, this is a huge thing you’re offering. Are you sure you’ve really thought it through?”

Alex speaks up, his voice calm and reassuring. “We have. We’ve talked about it a lot, actually. We know it’s not a decision to make lightly.”

“But we’re all in agreement,” Oscar adds. “If this is what you want, we want to help make it happen.”

You take a deep breath, looking around at the group. “I need some time to think about this. It’s ... a lot to take in.”

Max nods, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder gently. “Take all the time you need. We’re not going anywhere.”

As you turn to walk away, still looking a bit shell-shocked, the drivers watch you go with a mix of hope and anxiety.

“Do you think she’ll go for it?” Lando asks, nervously fidgeting with his sleeve.

Charles shrugs, his eyes still following your retreating figure. “I don’t know. It’s a big decision.”

“We’ve done our part,” Fernando says sagely. “Now it’s up to her.”

The group falls into a contemplative silence, each lost in their own thoughts about the potential consequences of their offer.

Several days pass, and the paddock is abuzz with speculation. The drivers have managed to keep their offer under wraps, but your contemplative mood hasn’t gone unnoticed.

You find yourself cornered by the group once again, this time in a quiet corner of the paddock after qualifying.

“So,” Max says, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. “Have you, uh, given any thought to our offer?”

You look around at the expectant faces surrounding you and take a deep breath. “I have, actually. I’ve thought about little else, to be honest.”

The tension in the air is palpable as they wait for your decision.

“I’m still not sure this is the right thing to do,” you begin, and you can see their faces fall. “But ... I can’t deny that the idea has a certain appeal.”

Hope blossoms in their expressions, and you can’t help but smile at their eagerness.

“Before I say yes,” you continue, holding up a hand to stave off their excitement, “I need to know that you’ve all really thought this through. This isn’t just about me having a baby. One of you will be a father, even if we don’t know which one.”

Lewis nods solemnly. “We understand. We’ve talked about it a lot, believe me.”

“And you’re all okay with the possibility of having a child out there that you might never know is yours?” You press.

They exchange glances before nodding in unison.

“We know it’s not a conventional situation,” Charles says. “But we’re all willing to accept whatever comes of this.”

You look at each of them in turn, searching their faces for any sign of doubt. Finding none, you take a deep breath.

“Okay,” you say finally. “If you’re all sure about this ... then yes. I’d be honored to accept your offer.”

The reaction is immediate and overwhelming. Cheers erupt from the group, and before you know it, you’re engulfed in a group hug.

“This is going to be amazing,” Lando exclaims, his face lit up with excitement.

“You’re going to be an incredible mother,” Alex adds, his smile warm and sincere.

As the excitement dies down, practical considerations start to surface.

“So, how do we do this?” Oscar asks. “Do we all just show up at the clinic or ...”

You can’t help but laugh at the mental image. “I think it might be best if we handle this discreetly. I’ll talk to the clinic and set everything up. They can give you instructions on how to make your ... contributions.”

George nods, looking relieved. “That sounds like a good plan. We don’t want this getting out to the media.”

“Agreed,” you say firmly. “This stays between us. No one else needs to know the details.”

The group nods in agreement, and you feel a wave of affection for these men who are willing to go to such lengths for you.

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” you say, shaking your head in wonder.

Fernando smiles, his eyes twinkling. “Believe it. In a few months, you could be on your way to motherhood.”

The reality of the situation starts to sink in, and you feel a mix of excitement and nerves. “This is going to change everything, isn’t it?”

“Change can be good,” Carlos says, giving you a reassuring smile. “And you won’t be alone. We’ll all be here to support you.”

You look around at the group, feeling overwhelmed by their support and affection. ���Thank you. All of you. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for this.”

Max grins, lightening the mood. “Well, naming the kid after me would be a good start.”

The group erupts in laughter, and you roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Nice try, Verstappen. But I think we’ll be steering clear of any names that might give away paternity.”

As the laughter dies down, a comfortable silence falls over the group. The magnitude of what you’ve all agreed to hangs in the air, but it’s accompanied by a sense of excitement and possibility.

“So,” Lance says, breaking the silence. “I guess the next step is to set up appointments at the clinic?”

You nod, feeling a flutter of nervous excitement in your stomach. “Yeah, I’ll get that sorted out and let you all know the details.”

“And then ...” Logan trails off, looking a bit overwhelmed.

“And then we wait,” Lewis finishes for him. “And hope for the best.”

You look around at the group of men surrounding you, each one ready to potentially become a father for your sake. It’s an unconventional situation, to say the least, but as you take in their supportive smiles and excited eyes, you can’t help but feel that you’re embarking on something truly special.

“Well, boys,” you say, a smile spreading across your face. “I guess we’re really doing this. Let Operation Make A Baby commence.”

***

The hospital waiting room crackles with nervous energy as eleven Formula 1 drivers pace, fidget, and attempt to distract themselves. The air is thick with anticipation, and every time the door opens, heads snap up in unison, hoping for news.

Max runs a hand through his hair for the hundredth time. “How long has it been now?” He asks, his voice tight with tension.

George checks his watch. “About six hours since we got here. But labor can take a while, especially for first-time mothers.”

“I still can’t believe this is really happening,” Lando says, his leg bouncing incessantly. “One of us is about to become a father.”

Charles nods, his eyes fixed on the door. “It’s surreal. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find out this was all a dream.”

“Not a dream, mate,” Alex says, patting Charles on the shoulder. “Very much real.”

The door swings open, and a nurse steps out. The drivers collectively hold their breath, but she merely smiles apologetically and heads down the hallway.

Carlos groans. “This waiting is killing me. How are we supposed to just sit here?”

“We could place bets on who the father is,” Logan suggests with a nervous laugh.

Lewis shakes his head, a small smile on his face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We agreed we wouldn’t try to figure it out, remember?”

“Lewis is right,” Fernando says sagely. “What matters is that the baby and the mother are healthy.”

Oscar nods in agreement. “Exactly. We’re all in this together, regardless of biology.”

Lance, who’s been quietly observing until now, speaks up. “Do you think she’s scared? I mean, we’re all nervous wrecks out here, and we’re not the ones giving birth.”

The group falls silent, contemplating Lance’s words. It’s a sobering thought, reminding them of the magnitude of what’s happening just beyond those doors.

“She’s strong,” Max says finally, his voice filled with admiration. “Stronger than all of us put together. She’ll be fine.”

As if on cue, the door swings open again, and this time, a doctor steps out. The drivers scramble to their feet, forming a semicircle around her.

“Gentlemen,” the doctor says, a smile playing at her lips. “I’m happy to inform you that both mother and baby are doing well. It’s a healthy baby girl.”

A collective cheer erupts from the group, followed by a flurry of hugs and backslaps. The tension that’s been building for hours finally breaks, replaced by jubilant relief.

“When can we see them?” Charles asks eagerly.

The doctor holds up a hand. “The mother is resting now, but she’s asked to see you all in about an hour. She wants you to meet the baby together.”

As the doctor leaves, the drivers look at each other, a mix of excitement and nerves on their faces.

“A girl,” Lando says, a goofy grin spreading across his face. “We have a daughter.”

“She has a daughter,” Lewis gently corrects. “We’re ... well, I’m not sure what we are exactly.”

“We’re family,” Fernando says firmly. “All of us and the little one.”

The next hour passes in a blur of excited chatter and speculation. Finally, a nurse appears to escort them to the private room where you and the baby are waiting.

As they file into the room, the sight that greets them renders them momentarily speechless. You’re propped up in the bed, looking tired but radiant, cradling a tiny bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket.

You look up as they enter, a soft smile on your face. “Hey, guys. Come meet your daughter.”

The drivers approach cautiously, as if afraid they might break the spell. You adjust the blanket, revealing a tiny face with rosebud lips and a button nose.

“She’s beautiful,” Max breathes, his eyes wide with wonder.

“She’s perfect,” Charles adds, his voice choked with emotion.

You beam at them, your eyes shining. “Want to hold her?”

After a moment of hesitation, Lewis steps forward. With practiced ease, he gently takes the baby from you, cradling her carefully in his arms.

“Hello, little one,” he coos softly. “Welcome to the world.”

The other drivers crowd around, each wanting a closer look. As Lewis passes the baby to Carlos, the scrutiny intensifies.

“Is it just me, or does she have Max’s nose?” Lando asks, peering closely at the tiny face.

Max leans in, his brow furrowed. “I don’t see it. But those ears ... they look like yours, Lando.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Boys, she’s about one hour old. I think it’s a bit early to be playing guess the father, don’t you?”

The drivers have the grace to look sheepish, but their curiosity is far from satisfied.

As the baby is passed from driver to driver, the observations continue.

“She has a strong grip,” Alex notes as tiny fingers wrap around his thumb. “Definitely going to be a racer.”

“Look at those long eyelashes,” Oscar marvels. “Those have to be from Charles.”

Charles preens a bit at this, while the others roll their eyes good-naturedly.

When it’s Fernando’s turn to hold the baby, he studies her with a thoughtful expression. “You know,” he says slowly, “I think she has your smile.”

You raise an eyebrow. “She hasn’t even smiled yet.”

He shakes his head, a mysterious smile on his face. “Trust me. I can tell.”

As the baby makes her way back to you, the drivers settle into chairs around the room, their eyes never leaving the tiny bundle.

“So,” George says, breaking the comfortable silence. “Have you thought about names?”

You nod, looking down at your daughter. “I have, actually. I was thinking ... Nessa. It means miracle. I thought it was fitting, given how she came into our lives.”

“Nessa,” Logan repeats, testing the name. “I like it. It’s beautiful.”

The others murmur their agreement, and you feel a wave of relief. Naming a baby is hard enough without having to consider the opinions of eleven potential fathers.

“Nessa it is, then,” you say, smiling down at the sleeping infant.

Lance, who’s been quiet until now, speaks up. “Can I ask ... how are you feeling? About all of this, I mean.”

You take a moment to consider the question. “Honestly? I’m overwhelmed. Excited, terrified, grateful ... all at once. But mostly, I’m just in awe. Of her, of this whole situation, of all of you.”

The drivers exchange glances, a mix of emotions playing across their faces.

“We’re the ones who should be in awe of you,” Carlos says softly. “You’ve given us an incredible gift.”

“He’s right,” Max adds. “No matter which one of us is her biological father, we’re all going to love her. And you.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Thank you. All of you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

As if sensing the emotional moment, Nessa chooses that moment to wake up, her tiny face scrunching up as she lets out a wail.

“Oh boy,” Lando says, his eyes wide. “That’s quite a set of lungs she’s got there.”

You laugh, adjusting Nessa in your arms. “Well, she is a paddock baby. Got to make herself heard over those engines somehow.”

As you soothe the baby, the drivers watch in fascination. It’s clear that despite their earlier bravado, the reality of a newborn is a bit daunting.

“So, uh, what happens now?” Oscar asks, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.

You look up from Nessa, who’s settled back into sleep. “Well, we’ll be here for a couple more days. After that ... I guess we figure it out as we go along.”

Lewis nods thoughtfully. “We’ll need to work out a schedule. Make sure you have support, especially during race weekends.”

“And we’ll need to baby-proof our garages,” Alex adds. “Can’t have her crawling into a stack of tires.”

The conversation turns to practical matters — childcare arrangements, safety considerations, and how to balance their racing careers with their new roles as ... well, whatever they are to Nessa.

As they talk, you can’t help but marvel at the scene. Eleven of the world’s most elite drivers, discussing diaper brands and the merits of various baby carriers with the same intensity they usually reserve for tire strategies and aerodynamics.

“You know,” you say, interrupting a heated debate about the best brand of baby formula, “I think Nessa might be the luckiest baby in the world.”

The drivers pause, looking at you quizzically.

You smile, looking around at each of them. “She’s got eleven of the most dedicated, passionate, and competitive men in the world looking out for her. Plus, she’s guaranteed to have the coolest bring your parent to school day ever.”

The room erupts in laughter, the tension of the day finally breaking.

“Just wait until she’s old enough to drive,” Max says with a grin. “We’ll have her in a kart before she can walk.”

“Oh no,” you groan, though you’re smiling. “I’ve created a monster, haven’t I?”

“Eleven monsters,” Charles corrects with a wink. “Don’t forget, we’re all in this together.”

As the laughter dies down, a comfortable silence falls over the room. Nessa sleeps peacefully in your arms, blissfully unaware of the extraordinary circumstances of her birth and the unique family she’s been born into.

Fernando breaks the silence. “You know,” he says thoughtfully, “in many ways, this little one embodies the spirit of Formula 1.”

The others look at him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Think about it,” he continues. “She’s the product of competition, of pushing boundaries, of taking risks. But she’s also about teamwork, about coming together for a common goal. Just like us on the track.”

The drivers nod, considering Fernando’s words.

“Plus,” Logan adds with a grin, “she’s already got a better sleep schedule than most of us during a race weekend.”

Another round of laughter fills the room, and you feel a surge of affection for these men who have become so much more than colleagues or even friends.

As visiting hours come to an end and the nurses start to shoo the drivers out, there’s a reluctance to leave. Each of them takes a moment to say goodbye to Nessa, promising to return soon.

Before they go, Lewis gathers everyone into a tight circle around your bed.

“I think we need to make a pact,” he says solemnly. “No matter what happens, no matter how our careers go or how life changes, we stick together for Nessa. She’s part of all of us now.”

The drivers nod in agreement, their faces serious.

“For Nessa,” Max says, placing his hand in the center of the circle.

One by one, the others follow suit, until all eleven hands are stacked together.

“For Nessa,” they chorus, and in that moment, you know that whatever challenges lie ahead, you and your daughter will never face them alone.

As the drivers file out, casting longing glances back at the sleeping baby, you settle back against your pillows, exhausted but content.

Looking down at Nessa’s peaceful face, you whisper, “Welcome to the world, little one. You’ve got quite the adventure ahead of you.”

And as you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but smile at the thought of the unconventional but loving family waiting just outside those hospital doors, ready to take on the world for the tiny girl in your arms.

***

The paddock rushes with activity as teams prepare for the upcoming race weekend. But between the usual hustle and bustle, an unusual sight catches everyone’s attention: you, pushing a stroller with a now six-month-old Nessa, surrounded by a protective circle of drivers.

Max hovers close, his eyes darting around warily. “Are you sure this was a good idea? Bringing her to the track?”

You laugh, adjusting Nessa’s sun hat. “Max, she’s been coming to races since she was born. This is nothing new.”

“Yeah, but now she’s old enough to attract attention,” Charles points out, cooing at Nessa as she gurgles happily.

Lando nods in agreement. “People are starting to ask questions. Did you see that article in Autosport last week?”

You sigh, remembering the speculative piece about Nessa’s parentage. “I saw it. But we knew this day would come eventually.”

As the group makes their way through the paddock, heads turn and whispers follow. The sight of eleven of the world’s top drivers fawning over one baby is certainly not an everyday occurrence.

Carlos leans in, speaking softly. “Maybe we should have come up with a cover story. You know, pick one of us to pretend to be the father.”

George shakes his head. “No, we agreed from the start — no lies. We’re all in this together, remember?”

“Easier said than done,” Logan mutters, noticing a group of journalists eyeing them curiously.

As they approach the Mercedes garage, Lewis spots a familiar face and freezes. “Uh, guys? We might have a problem.”

The others follow his gaze to see your older brother, striding purposefully towards the group. His expression is a mix of confusion and growing anger.

“Seb!” You exclaim, trying to sound casual. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Switzerland.”

Sebastian ignores your greeting, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene before him. “What’s going on here?” He demands, his gaze sweeping over the assembled drivers.

The group exchanges nervous glances, each silently hoping someone else will take the lead.

Finally, Fernando steps forward, ever the diplomat. “Sebastian, my friend. It’s good to see you. Perhaps we could discuss this somewhere more private?”

But Sebastian is having none of it. His eyes lock onto Lewis, who instinctively takes a step back. “Lewis?” He says, his voice dangerously quiet. “Care to explain why you and half the grid are hovering around my sister and a baby?”

Lewis swallows hard, looking to the others for support. Finding none, he takes a deep breath. “Seb, it’s not what you think. Well, it is, but also it isn’t. You see-”

“Lewis?” Sebastian explodes, his face reddening. “I thought better of you!”

The outburst draws even more attention, and you can see team personnel and journalists alike straining to hear what’s happening.

Lewis, caught off guard by Sebastian’s reaction, blurts out, “In my defense, I thought I would get to fuck her!”

A collective gasp goes up from the group, and you bury your face in your hands, mortified.

Sebastian’s eyes widen in shock and fury. “Tha- what? How would that make it better?”

Realizing his mistake, Lewis backpedals frantically. “No, no, that came out wrong! I didn’t mean-”

But Sebastian is beyond listening. He lunges forward, only to be held back by Alex and Oscar.

“Let me go!” Sebastian growls, struggling against their grip. “I’m going to kill him!”

Nessa, startled by the commotion, begins to cry. The sound seems to snap everyone back to reality.

“Enough!” You shout, your voice cutting through the chaos. “All of you, into the motorhome. Now!”

Chastened, the drivers file into the nearby Red Bull motorhome, with Alex and Oscar still keeping a firm grip on Sebastian. You follow, pushing Nessa’s stroller and trying to soothe her.

Once inside, with the door firmly closed against prying eyes and ears, you turn to face the group. Sebastian stands at one end, still glaring daggers at Lewis, who’s wisely put Max and Charles between them.

“Alright,” you say, your voice tight with frustration. “I guess it’s time we explained everything.”

Over the next hour, you and the drivers take turns recounting the story — from your decision to have a baby, to their unconventional offer, to Nessa’s birth and the months since. Sebastian listens in stunned silence, his expression cycling through disbelief, confusion, and finally, grudging understanding.

When the tale is finished, Sebastian slumps into a chair, running a hand over his face. “So let me get this straight,” he says slowly. “You,” he points at you, “decided to have a baby on your own. And you lot,” he gestures at the drivers, “thought the best solution was to play some kind of ... paternity lottery?”

Lance nods hesitantly. “When you put it like that, it does sound a bit mad.”

“A bit?” Sebastian laughs incredulously. “It’s completely insane!”

“But it worked,” Carlos points out, gently rocking Nessa, who has calmed down and is now contentedly chewing on his finger. “Look at her, Seb. She’s perfect.”

Sebastian’s expression softens as he looks at his niece. “She is beautiful,” he admits. Then, turning back to the group, he adds sternly, “But that doesn’t excuse the fact that you all took advantage of my sister!”

“They didn’t take advantage of me,” you interject firmly. “This was my choice. They were just ... supporting me.”

“By offering to impregnate you?” Sebastian retorts, his protective big brother instincts in full force.

George steps forward, his expression earnest. “Sebastian, I know how this looks. But we care about your sister. All of us. We just wanted to help make her dream come true.”

“And create the world’s most confusing family tree in the process,” Logan mutters, earning a sharp elbow from Lando.

Sebastian sighs, looking around at the assembled drivers. “I still can’t believe you all agreed to this. Do you have any idea what you’re getting into? The media frenzy when this gets out?”

Fernando shrugs philosophically. “Life is full of challenges. This is just another one.”

“Easy for you to say,” Max grumbles. “You’re basically past retirement age. Some of us still have our whole careers ahead of us.”

The room falls silent as the reality of their situation sinks in. The secret they’ve managed to keep for over a year is on the verge of exploding into the public eye.

“So what do we do now?” Oscar asks, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.

You look down at Nessa, who’s drifted off to sleep in Carlos’ arms, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around her. “We tell the truth,” you say firmly. “Or at least, as much of it as we’re comfortable sharing.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “And what exactly does that mean?”

Lewis, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet since his earlier outburst, speaks up. “We could say that we all agreed to help you have a child, but keep the details private. No need to mention the ... um, method.”

“You mean the part where you thought you would get to fuck her?” Sebastian growls, causing Lewis to wince.

“I really am sorry about that,” Lewis says sheepishly. “It came out all wrong.”

You shake your head, exasperated. “Focus, boys. We need a plan.”

Over the next hour, the group hashes out a strategy. They decide to release a joint statement explaining that you had chosen to become a single mother, and that the drivers, as your close friends, had offered their support. The exact nature of that support would remain private.

As they finalize the details, Sebastian watches the interactions with growing amazement. The way the drivers instinctively work together, finishing each other’s sentences and anticipating potential issues, speaks to a bond that goes beyond mere friendship or even shared paternity.

“You know,” he says finally, interrupting a debate about whether to use the phrase ‘unconventional family’ in their statement, “I think I owe you all an apology.”

The room falls silent, all eyes turning to Sebastian.

He continues, his voice softer now. “I reacted badly earlier. But seeing you all now, how you’ve come together for my sister and for Nessa ... it’s actually kind of beautiful.”

You feel tears pricking at your eyes as you move to hug your brother. “Thank you, Seb. That means a lot.”

As you pull away, Sebastian turns to address the group. “But let me make one thing clear,” he says, his tone becoming stern once more. “If any of you ever hurt my sister or my niece, you’ll have me to answer to. Understood?”

The drivers nod solemnly, a mixture of respect and residual fear in their eyes.

“Good,” Sebastian says, a small smile finally breaking through. “Now, who’s going to let me hold my niece?”

As Carlos carefully transfers the sleeping Nessa to Sebastian’s arms, the tension in the room finally dissipates. Watching your brother coo over your daughter, surrounded by the unconventional family you’ve built, you feel a sense of peace wash over you.

“Well,” Lando says, breaking the moment, “I guess the hardest part’s over. Now we just have to explain this to the rest of the world.”

Alex laughs, shaking his head. “Mate, I think that might actually be the easy part. It’s raising her that’s going to be the real challenge.”

As the group dissolves into laughter, discussing potential future scenarios (“Who’s going to teach her to drive?” “All of us, obviously!” “God help us all.”), you can’t help but marvel at the strange and wonderful turn your life has taken.

Looking around at the men who have become so much more than colleagues or friends — who have become family in the truest sense of the word — you know that whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them together. And really, with a support system like this, how can you possibly fail?

As the laughter and chatter continue around you, Nessa stirs in Sebastian’s arms, her tiny hand reaching out. Without hesitation, eleven hands reach back, each driver gently touching a finger or offering a thumb for her to grasp.

In that moment, watching the most competitive men in motorsport melt over one tiny girl, you know that no matter what the future holds, Nessa will never lack for love, support, or, undoubtedly, speed.

***

The sun beats down on the jam-packed karting track, the air thick with the scent of fuel and the buzz of excitement. Amid the crowd of nervous parents and eager young racers, one group stands out: eleven men, a mix of current and former Formula 1 drivers, clustered around a small kart where an eight-year-old girl sits, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and her face a mask of determination.

“Remember, Nessa,” Max says, kneeling beside the kart to look the girl in the eye, “smooth on the throttle, late on the brakes.”

Charles leans in from the other side. “But not too late, mon chou. You don’t want to lock up in the corners.”

“And watch your lines,” Lewis adds, adjusting Nessa’s helmet. “The racing line isn’t always the optimal when you’re being pressured.”

Nessa nods solemnly, taking in every word. “I know, I know. We’ve been over this a million times.”

Lando grins, ruffling her hair. “That’s our girl. You’ve got this, kiddo.”

Around them, other parents and children stare in disbelief. Whispers ripple through the crowd as people recognize the famous faces surrounding the young racer.

“Is that really Lewis Hamilton?” One mother hisses to her husband.

“And Max Verstappen!” The man replies, his eyes wide. “What are they doing here?”

A nearby father shakes his head in amazement. “I heard rumors about that kid, but I didn’t believe them. How can she have so many ... well, fathers?”

Meanwhile, you stand slightly apart from the group, watching the scene with a mix of pride and amusement. Your brother sidles up beside you.

“You know,” he says with a wry smile, “when I imagined my niece’s first race, I didn’t quite picture this circus.”

You laugh, nudging him with your elbow. “Oh come on, you love it. Besides, you’re just as bad as the rest of them.”

As if to prove your point, Sebastian’s eyes narrow as he spots Carlos making a last-minute adjustment to Nessa’s kart. “Hey!” He calls out, striding over. “What are you doing to her suspension?”

Carlos looks up, startled. “Just a small tweak. The track’s a bit bumpy on turn three.”

“It’s fine as it is,” George interjects, crouching down to inspect the kart. “Any softer and she’ll lose responsiveness in the chicane.”

“Actually,” Fernando chimes in, “a slight adjustment might help. But not too much, Carlos.”

As the debate over suspension settings intensifies, Alex notices Nessa’s growing nervousness. He kneels beside her, speaking softly. “Hey, little racer. How are you feeling?”

Nessa bites her lip, her eyes darting between her arguing fathers and the other young racers preparing for the race. “What if I let them down?” She whispers. “They’re all so excited.”

Alex’s expression softens. “Oh, Nessa. You could never let us down. We’re proud of you no matter what happens out there.”

“He’s right,” Oscar adds, overhearing the conversation. “We’re here because we love you, not because we expect you to win.”

“Although winning would be nice,” Logan quips, earning a chorus of groans and eye-rolls from the others.

“What Logan means,” Lance says, shooting a glare at his fellow driver, “is that we want you to do your best and, most importantly, have fun.”

Nessa nods, a small smile finally breaking through her nervous expression. “Okay. I’ll try.”

As the call comes for racers to take their positions, the group reluctantly steps back, allowing Nessa to maneuver her kart to the starting line. You move forward, leaning in to give your daughter a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Remember,” you say softly, “you’re amazing, no matter what happens out there. And we love you more than anything.”

Nessa beams at you, her earlier nerves seeming to melt away. “I love you too. And all my dads,” she adds with a giggle, looking at the assembled drivers.

As you step back to join the others, the atmosphere around you changes. The playful bickering and nervous energy give way to a focused intensity that you recognize from countless race weekends. Eleven pairs of eyes are locked on the small figure in the pink and white kart, second row on the starting grid.

The lights begin their sequence, and you can almost feel the collective intake of breath from the men around you. Green! The karts surge forward, and Nessa makes a good start, holding her position into the first corner.

“That’s it, ma princesse!” Charles cheers, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Hold your line!”

“Watch your inside on turn two,” Max mutters, as if Nessa could hear him. “There’s space if you need it.”

As the race progresses, the commentary from the drivers becomes a constant stream, analyzing every move, every overtake, every defensive maneuver. Other parents cast bewildered glances their way, clearly overwhelmed by the level of scrutiny being applied to what they had assumed would be a casual children’s race.

Midway through the race, Nessa makes a bold move, diving down the inside of the leader into a tight hairpin. The karts touch slightly, and for a heart-stopping moment, it looks like both might spin.

“Steady!” Lewis calls out, his body tensing as if he could somehow influence the outcome through sheer will.

But Nessa manages to control the kart, emerging from the corner in the lead as the other driver runs wide.

The group erupts in cheers, their earlier promises of “it’s not about winning” seemingly forgotten in the heat of the moment.

“Did you see that move?” Lando exclaims, practically bouncing with excitement. “That was pure Norris!”

“Excuse me,” Charles interjects, a proud grin on his face, “I think you mean pure Leclerc. That finesse under pressure? All Ferrari.”

“Oh please,” George scoffs good-naturedly. “That was clearly a Russell special. Calculated risk with perfect execution.”

As the friendly argument over whose racing style Nessa has inherited continues, Sebastian leans in close to you. “You know,” he says, his voice a mix of amusement and resignation, “I’m starting to think we created a monster.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, we definitely did. But look how happy they all are.”

Indeed, as you watch the men who have become your family over the past eight years, you’re struck by the pure joy radiating from them. Their focus is entirely on Nessa, their own achievements and rivalries forgotten in their shared pride for this little girl who has somehow become the center of their world.

As the final lap approaches, Nessa is still in the lead, but with another driver close on her tail. The tension among the group reaches fever pitch.

“Come on, Nessa,” Fernando murmurs, his eyes never leaving the track. “You’ve got this. Stay focused.”

“Defend the inside line,” Carlos advises, as if she could hear him. “Don’t give them any space.”

The last corner approaches, and the second-place kart makes a desperate lunge for the inside line. For a moment, it looks like Nessa might be overtaken at the last second.

“No, no, no,” Alex mutters, his hands clenched into fists.

But Nessa holds her nerve, taking a slightly wider line and using her momentum to slingshot out of the corner and across the finish line, just ahead of her rival.

The eruption of cheers from the group of F1 drivers drowns out even the sound of the karts. They jump, hug each other, and pump their fists in the air as if Nessa had just won the World Drivers’ Championship.

As Nessa brings her kart to a stop in the pit area, she’s immediately surrounded by her fathers, each clamoring to be the first to congratulate her.

“That was incredible, little love!” Lewis exclaims, helping her out of the kart.

“You drove like a champion,” Max adds, his face split by an enormous grin.

“I’m so proud of you, mon petit champion,” Charles says, pulling her into a tight hug.

The other parents watch in amazement as Nessa is passed from one racing legend to another, each offering praise, analysis, and suggestions for improvement in equal measure.

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” one father mutters to his wife. “How is this fair? That kid has a whole F1 pit crew!”

His wife shushes him, but nods in agreement, her eyes wide as she watches the scene unfold.

Meanwhile, you make your way through the crowd of excited drivers to reach your daughter. As you approach, the men part to let you through, their chatter dying down.

You kneel in front of Nessa, taking in her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “How do you feel, sweetheart?” You ask softly.

Nessa’s face breaks into a wide grin. “That was amazing! Did you see when I overtook on the hairpin? And the last corner, I thought for sure he was going to pass me, but I remembered what Papa Fernando said about late apexes, and it worked!”

You laugh, pulling her into a hug. “I saw it all, baby. You were incredible.”

As you release her, Nessa looks around at the circle of beaming faces surrounding her. “Did I make you proud?” She asks, a hint of her earlier nervousness returning.

“Proud doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Sebastian says, ruffling her hair affectionately.

“You exceeded all our expectations,” Fernando adds with a warm smile.

“And trust me,” Lando chimes in with a wink, “our expectations were pretty high to begin with.”

As Nessa basks in the praise and attention of her unconventional family, a race official approaches, looking slightly overwhelmed.

“Excuse me,” he says hesitantly, “but we need to do the podium ceremony now.”

The drivers reluctantly step back, allowing Nessa to follow the official to the makeshift podium. As she takes her place on the top step, her face beaming with pride, you find yourself surrounded by eleven grown men, each looking as proud as if they had just won a world championship themselves.

“You know,” Oscar says softly, his eyes never leaving Nessa as she receives her trophy, “I think we might be in trouble.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, turning to look at him.

He grins, a mixture of pride and mock fear in his eyes. “If she’s this good at eight, can you imagine what she’ll be like at eighteen? We might be out of jobs.”

The group chuckles, but there’s a note of truth in Oscar’s words. As you watch Nessa on the podium, her small hands raised in triumph, you can’t help but wonder what the future holds for this extraordinary little girl with her eleven F1 driver fathers.

But for now, as the sound of applause fills the air and you see the pure joy on Nessa’s face, you push those thoughts aside. There will be time enough for worrying about the future later. For now, you’re content to bask in this moment of triumph, surrounded by the most unconventional and wonderful family you could have ever imagined.

As Nessa runs back to the group, her trophy clutched tightly in her hands, she’s enveloped in a group hug that threatens to lift her off her feet. And in that moment, watching the pure love and pride radiating from these men who have given your daughter so much more than just their DNA, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, Nessa will always have the strongest support system imaginable.

After all, with her fathers in her corner, how can she possibly fail?