#don hamilton's getting it

[rakiloveslewis]

this ferrari shit gets serious

[xoxo-devdas]

Thinking about Ledja again

[cutielando]

jealous boy | charles leclerc

synopsis: in which Charles gets jealous of his new teammate

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: jealous!charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader

my masterlist

The day had finally come.

Lewis Hamilton’s first official day as a Ferrari driver.

The news had rocked the motorsport world, and as someone who had grown up idolizing Lewis, you couldn’t help but be excited. Even though you were now dating Charles, Ferrari’s golden boy, the childhood fan in you was practically vibrating with anticipation.

You had always been a Lewis fan.

Posters of him covered your bedroom walls when you were younger, and you’d spent countless hours watching his races, celebrating his victories, and defending him in heated debates with your friends. He had been the reason you fell in love with Formula 1 in the first place.

So, seeing him finally don the iconic red suit felt surreal.

Charles, however, did not share your enthusiasm.

Well, at least not entirely.

You didn’t notice it at first.

You were too busy scrolling through social media, liking every post Ferrari had made about Lewis’ arrival, rewatching the welcome video they had put together, and even pulling up old clips of his greatest wins to reminisce.

It wasn’t until you let out an excited squeal that Charles, who had been sitting beside you on the couch, finally snapped.

“Okay, that’s enough”

You blinked, looking up from your phone to see him frowning at you.

“What?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion at his outburst.

“This,” he gestured toward your phone, “is enough”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, frowning slightly.

Charles huffed, crossing his arms over his chest like a toddler.

“You’ve been talking about Lewis all day. Watching videos, liking posts, and acting like he’s the best thing to ever happen to Ferrari”

You tilted your head, confused by his sudden shift in mood.

“Charles, you know I’ve been a Lewis fan forever. This is huge for me. For the sport. For Ferrari. What are you on about?"

“For you, huh. I don’t see you getting this excited over me” he emphasized, pouting slightly.

You laughed, reaching out to poke his cheek as you finally understood what he was so mad about.

“Charles, I literally go to every race to support you. I wear your merch. I wake up at ungodly hours to watch practice sessions. You're my boyfriend. Of course, I support you” you said.

“Doesn’t feel like it right now” he mumbled.

Your heart softened at the sight of his pout. Charles wasn’t usually the jealous type - not when it came to other drivers, at least.

But seeing you gush over someone who was now technically his teammate? That was different.

“Are you seriously jealous?” you teased, grinning.

“No” Charles said, scoffing at you.

“You totally are” you raised an eyebrow, enjoying teasing him.

“I am not jealous” he crossed his arms tighter, looking away. “I just don’t like hearing my girlfriend go on and on about another driver.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing.

“Charles, Lewis was my childhood hero. I can be excited about this and still love you, you know”

He sighed, finally meeting your gaze.

“I know. It’s just… he’s Lewis Hamilton. Seven-time world champion. One of the greatest of all time. And now he’s in my team, in my garage, and my girlfriend is acting like she’s about to faint every time she sees a new picture of him in Ferrari red.”

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Charles, I promise you, no amount of childhood admiration can compare to how much I love you.”

He hesitated before finally melting into your embrace, resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“Positive” you said, kissing the tip of his nose.

He sighed dramatically.

“Fine. But if I catch you wearing a Hamilton-Ferrari shirt before you wear mine, we’re breaking up” he said, his tone dead serious.

You gasped, pretending to be offended.

“Charles Leclerc, are you really making me choose?”

“Yes, and you better choose wisely" he smirked.

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“You are ridiculous, you know that?" you asked, shaking your head at him, but smiling.

“And you are mine,” he murmured against your lips, tightening his arms around you. “No matter how much you love Lewis.”

“No one compares to you, Charles” you said, grinning.

“Good.” He smirked. “Now, let’s go get you a proper Ferrari shirt - with my number on it.”

And just like that, his jealousy was gone, replaced with the warm satisfaction of knowing that, no matter how much you had admired Lewis Hamilton growing up, your heart belonged to him.

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[formulakracing]

sunbathing - t.w.

pairing: reader x dbf!toto wolff

word count: 1.3k

warnings: age gap, highly inappropriate flirting and banter, fingering (f! receiving), alcohol use, some light smut for this fine sunday evening, fyi, the reader is in her early/mid 20s in this!,

a/n: the premise of this one came to me as a request! i just want to clarify that this is a slight au, as toto is not a married man in this! i hope y’all enjoy! <3 (also that gif?? omf. i need him.)

bundles of light cast a shine on the waves, the surrounding air tinged with the salty scent of the sea. the only color in your field of vision is blue, the hues ranging from a vivid cerulean to a rich sapphire. above, seagulls glide, dotting the skyline with tiny white specks.

you bask in the warmth of the sun, your heated skin glowing from your tanning oil. situated on the sun deck, you were in the perfect spot to catch some rays, reapplying tanning oil routinely throughout the afternoon.

"everything going okay up there honey?"

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

the voice was none other than your father's.

your father happened to be peter bonnington, one of the top engineers for the mercedes-amg petronas formula one team. he just so happened to be close to lewis hamilton, eight time world champion.

yet, to your disappointment, lewis was not present today. so much for shooting your shot with the devilishly handsome driver.

when you were offered the chance to spend the day on toto wolff's yacht with your family, how could you have refused?

who else gets to spend the afternoon sunbathing on desk of a yacht as it floats along the mediterranean sea?

springing to your feet, you lean over the rail, picking out your father as he mingles with the group, "i may come down and get some water soon!"

"sounds good love!" your father responds, a wide grin plastered across his face. stifling a giggle, you notice the crimson hue tinging his cheeks, flourishing into his neck.

oh god, he was drunk.

well, you all were. at least, those old enough to drink.

for the start of the summer break in the season, mr. wolff had suggested the mercedes families gather together for a day of relaxation and celebration. to your disappointment, there were not a lot of suitors present.

of course, there were quite a few children, some teenagers.

you had met with a few girls around your age, but they were still significantly younger, approximately three or fours your junior. so, to escape from the small talk and chitchat, you had waltzed up to the sun deck, settling in one of the chairs.

luckily, you had brought a book with you, so it kept you somewhat busy.

and to your satisfaction, no one bothered you. no one at all.

an afternoon alone on the deck of a yacht, where no one would bother you but to bring you a few drinks and some snacks?

it was perfect. absolutely perfect.

you couldn't have envisioned a more perfect afternoon.

a flurry of voices catches your attention, but you ignore them. it almost sounded as if there was playful argument. of course, recognized your father's voice, as it was the loudest.

your mom was one patient woman, that was for sure.

with the sun beating down, and the buzz of the alcohol, you couldn't help but feel your lashes flutter, drowsiness beginning to take ahold.

"ms. bonnington," a voice startles you, thick with a heavy accent, "i figured i would run some water up for you."

sitting up in your chair, you clutch your chest as you make out who is standing beside you, one bottle of water in each hand.

it was none other than toto wolff.

with his significant stature and broad shoulders, he nearly towers over you, donned in a thin linen button up and khaki shorts.

with his fluffy brunette hair, and sharp, chiseled features framed by thick lashes, there was no denying that the team principal was devastatingly handsome. toned muscles rippled underneath his button-up, the wind catching the fabric every so often, exposing a trail hair leading up to his navel.

sure, you may have had a teenage crush on one of your father's best friends and coworkers, but surely you outgrew that long ago.

surely.

you felt your heart skip a beat as he eyed you, prompting you to respond.

"oh my god," you nearly stumble over your words, "i am so sorry if i didn't hear you the first time, mr. wolff. i was falling asleep and i-"

"no need for those formalities around here," a soft chuckle rumbles in his throat, "you can call me toto, you know."

"i-i'm sorry," you mumble, accepting the water bottles from his hands, "i've probably been in the sun a little too long. i'm a little scatterbrained right now."

"have you been having fun, at least?" to your surprise, the team principal sits in a chair beside you, "i apologize if you haven't been able to meet some people your age. i thought there would be more girls for you to get along with."

"i've been fine," you shrug, "i'm a big girl, i know how to occupy myself."

as you lay back down in the chair, toto can't help but drink in the sight of you.

fuck, were you absolutely gorgeous.

he relished the way your hair was pulled into a tight bun, emphasizing the bridge of your nose and the fullness of your lashes. your skin glistens under the sun, toto swallowing thickly as his mind wanders.

it was so wrong to look at you this way. absolutely sinful.

yet, he couldn't. he couldn't look away.

"everything okay, toto?" oh god, the way his name sounded so sweet from those plush lips.

"i'm fine," he waves a hand, "i'm just admiring the view. that's all."

you arch a brow, pursing your lips, "the mountains or my ass?"

ever so slightly, you wiggle your wips, cheeks jiggling in response.

"you want me to be honest or do you want me to lie?"

"hmmm," you hum, "i prefer honesty, mr. wolff."

mr. wolff.

in his shorts, he felt his cock throb. instinctively, he shifts in the seat, praying that you wouldn't notice.

however, it's hard to miss.

especially in those khaki shorts.

"see something you like?" you bat your lashes, the corners of your lips curling into a devious grin.

"yes," he leans over, face merely centimeters from yours, "you."

"not like you can do anything about it," you counter, the tough exterior crumbling as you feel a hand gliding along the back of your thigh, squeezing the curve of your ass.

perhaps you did not outgrow that teenage crush all those years ago.

"i can," he smirks ever so slightly, "no one can see up here. if i would have known you were wearing this little number, i would have ran up with that water hours ago."

"what if someone comes up here?"

"they won't," he shakes his head, "they're all eating right now."

"you don't think my father will come looking for me?"

"do you know how intoxicated your father is right now? he wouldn't even make it up the stairs," fingers hook the strap of your bikini bottoms, snapping it against your skin, "so, schatzi, what shall we do?"

"what's on your mind?"

toto cocks his head, the fingers delving between your thighs. nimbly, they lightly trace along your folds, teasing, "oh, if we were completely alone, it would be a far different story. however, i have limited time, and there's a large gathering down below."

"oh fuck," you clamp down on your tongue as a finger circles your clit, juices beginning to trickle down your soft skin.

"you like that?" toto coos, applying more pressure, "you like how wet i make you? you're a good girl, letting me touch you like this."

"toto!" a voice calls from below, "we need your assistance with the radio!"

"jesus fucking christ," the team principal rolls his eyes.

rising to his feet, fingers grasp you chin, tilting your head upwards.

"you should accompany your father to a grand prix sometime. i would love to see your beautiful face one day in the paddock."

"maybe i will," you murmur, flashing toto with a radiant grin, "would you fuck me in the paddock too?"

"oh schatzi, i would do more than fuck you in the paddock. i would make that little pussy of yours weep."

and just like that, you watch as the team principal strolls over to the stairs, shooting you one final wink before disappearing.

biting your lip, you reach for the water, twisting it open.

perhaps you would lean over that rail one more time.

after all, you were starting to get an appetite.

[doomedmoth]

Pink Pony Club

Pairing : Reader x Lewis Hamilton

Warning : Use of y/n, smau, showgirl!reader, Ferrari!Lewis, slight suggestive pictures, unspecified age gap

Synopsis : Fred takes Lewis and Charles to enjoy French delicacies before the start of the season. Under the neon lights, Lewis falls for a woman the whole world will disapprove of. It’s good he doesn’t need anybody’s approval then.

Moth’s prophecy 💡: Helloooo here is another smau, this time for my fav I had never yet written for because he is too out of this world to make him justice, but still. Also why are smau so long to make and why do I forget about it everytime ? Also some parts that should be in French are in English for your comprehension, some parts aren’t translated because I couldn’t be bothered, and also coz that makes you feel the real life experience of a comment having thousands of likes and the translation button not working. Enjoy, love y’all ! 💗

[Instagram] lewishamilton just posted a photo

lewishamilton : Winter reset in some of my fav cities. New year, new challenges. Let’s get to work ❤️

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ferraristyle Welcome lewishamilton !

user1 What’s up boss ❤️‍🔥

user2 Not Lewis breaking the internet with every single post

user3 SIR THE THIRD SLIDE

user4 people died

user5 🐐

scuderiaferrari Benvenuti in famiglia ❤️ We’re so honored to work with you

charles_leclerc Red really suits you mate 🔥

user6 All delulu for Lulu ! Time to grab the 9th !!!

user7 y’all will never get over it ? Max WON, fair and square, your champ has 7, move on

user8 fair and square lmaoooo

user9 PARIIIIS come see your French fans Lew 🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷

user10 Leo and Roscoooeee

lando Don

user11 It’s been good Merc but I’m a Ferrari fan now ❤️🐎

user12 “fav cities” and it’s just Fred and Charles dragging him to their hometown

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[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

coworker1 replied to the story :

been blasting it on repeat I think the crazy granny upstairs might call the cops

yourbff replied to the story :

THE PEARLS ✨ THE HAIR ✨ THE LIGHT ✨ Bébé you’re a superstar ✨✨✨

user13 replied to the story :

slut

crazyhorseparis replied to the story :

Can we repost this ?

user14 replied to the story :

Nothing more than a glorified stripper, putting a wigs on doesn’t make you anonymous

user15 replied to the story :

You’re so hot it’s unfair

user16 replied to the story :

wow never seen a bitch so talentless, getting naked and calling it a show, your one for the streets

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[Twitter] yourusername just posted

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[Instagram] crazyhorseparis just posted a photo

crazyhorseparis : Spotted in Paris 👀❤️ We did host some very special guests tonight, and though we can’t show you everything, we think we did good with our color choices !

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user17 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

user18 Magnifiques !

user19 Speechless about the last show, it was amazing ! Went with my wife during our vacation on Christmas, we had stars in our eyes the whole evening… Merci Crazy !

user20 took your wife to a stripper club…? Wow real classy dude

user21 pls sell the wigs !!

user22 is that…? IS THAT FRED IN THE LIKES ? FERRARI TP FRED PRIVATE ACCOUNT ?

user23 let a man live he’s French he’s supporting the local businesses

user24 FREDERIC.V my man is so unserious he didn’t even try

coworker2 For those kind of guests, please book the club anytime again, it was OUR pleasure

coworker3 +1

yourusername +1

user25 who was iiiiit

moulinrougeofficiel stay in your lane (also why didn’t they pick us WE ARE SO RED IT’S IN OUR NAME 😭)

user26 unfortunately all of your dancers didn’t get the secret guest memo it seems

user27 WHO ?

user28 WHERE ?

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[Twitter] f1.driv.updates just posted

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[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername : 🎶 Every night’s another reason why I left it all 🎶

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yourbff can’t wait to see you bébé

yourusername get those cocktails ready coz we got LOADS to talk about

yourbff 👀

lewishamilton best view in Paris 🤍

yourusername I fear the neons have blinded you Sir

lewishamilton feels like I’m seeing clear for the first time in years tho ? 🤔

user29 I SPIT OUT MY DRINK

user30 shamelessly flirting on main ok sir

charles_leclerc Is that what you called “networking” 😐

user31 my favorite crazy girl !!

Liked by yourusername

user32 that body should be illegal

user33 kinda embarrassing tbh

user34 Why won’t you answer your DMs ?? Think you’re so much better than everyone, you’re just a stupid whore

yourusername Boy get the fuck out, i wouldn’t touch you or your tiny ass dick with a stick for 10 million bucks

user35 as if anyone would want you girl whole country must have fckd you already

user36 what’s your OF ??

yourusername 🖕🏾

user37 mid looking hoe getting naked for a few bucks, your mom must be so proud

user38 LEWIS HAMILTON IN THE LIKES BEFORE ME ???

user39 babe Lewis was in the COMMENTS before you, wake up

user40 she’s an icon

user41 MARRY ME

user42 she’s not the kind of girl you marry

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[Messages] Coworker #1 has sent a text in 🎀🎠💅

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[Instagram] lewishamilton has added a story

yourusername replied to the story :

Not as good as you’ve been to me 💗

also everything hurts and it’s your fault

user43 replied to the story :

If you need a Parisian guide give me a call I can show you the best places 💋

user44 replied to the story :

COCORICO LEWIS FRANCE LOVES YOU

user45 replied to the story :

Who took the pic ?? Vasseur ain’t that good of a photographer

charles_leclerc replied to the story :

Alex demands a call to know how the evening ended AND SO DO I

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

coworker2 replied to the story :

Ok that is SICKENINGLY sweet

yourbff replied to the story :

GIRL IF YOU DON’T PICK UP RN

user46 replied to the story :

all he wants is a piece of that ass for free

charles_leclerc replied to the story :

Tell Lewis to answer his damn phone I know he’s with you and french bosses can be real bitchy as I’m sure you’re aware 😩

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[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername : Back home in Guadeloupe, and god I missed the sun 🌞 Oh and btw, my poor mother is so ashamed of me she has been making my favorite meals in advance for days and I am now sitting on her couch listening to her lecture about not moisturizing enough my elbows. Think she might disown me soon ??

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user47 yesss girl rep the domtoms

Liked by yourusername

yourusername island life is the best life

user48 ooooh can’t hear the haters over the sound of the sea

yourbff she’s baaaack

coworker1 only for vacation, pls give her back soon

yourbff yeah yeah miss superstar and all that

lewishamilton Oh I can definitely see where you got your gorgeous looks from

user49 dude can’t have the daughter so he’s aiming at the mom ??

yourusername got more where that came from ?

lewishamilton Is your dad a thief ? Coz he stole all the stars in the sky to put them in your eyes 💗

user50 …….

charles_leclerc yeah that’s not hm… that’s just not good Lewis

lewishamilton SHE SAID IT WAS VERY ROMANTIC IN FRENCH

yourbff LMAOOOO that might be the worst pick up line to have ever existed

yourusername but the willingness to be ridiculed is very appreciated 💗

yln.guesthouse mimiiii

yourusername mamaaaaa

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[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

yourbff replied to the story :

If you’re done with your lil lovebirds photoshoot we would like to order

user51 replied to the story :

love that song

user52 replied to the story :

So pretty 🥵

[Instagram] lewishamilton has added a story

user53 replied to the story :

So you ARE in Guadeloupe

user54 replied to the story :

Runs on the beach are the best workout ! Have a great pre-season, we’re waiting for you !!

user51 replied to the story :

Lewis Hamilton listening to Rods in Gwada ?? In what multiverse am I ???

alexandrasaintmleux replied to the story :

Lewis dear I adore you but between the pose, the song and the emojis, this might be the worst soft launch I’ve ever seen

user55 replied to the story :

DATING THE STRIPPER THEN ??

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[Instagram] cultLHupdates has added a story

user56 replied to the story :

Where are y’all even getting those infos ??

user57 replied to the story :

Not Lewis getting schooled on a jet ski my goood this man is down bad

scuderiaferrari replied to the story :

We appreciate your enthusiasm for Lewis, but that goes hand in hand with respect. For the privacy of our drivers’ lives, we kindly ask you to take down this story as soon as possible, or else we will be forced to take legal action. We thank you for your cooperation.

This story has been deleted.

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[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername : I think I like this little life 💗

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coworker1 new bracelets for the team yeyyy

yourusername of course, everything for my girlies

user58 I fear one of those isn’t for the girlies

user59 yeah we’ve all seen it in his stories

coworker2 shocked

coworker3 betrayed

coworker4 dick so good you buy him friendship bracelets

user60 omg my dream life

user61 ALERT ALERT MAN CONFIRMED THE GIRL IS LOCKED IN

yourbff That karaoke night might have been the messiest so far

yourusername didn’t like our rendition of it wasn’t me ??

user62 LEWIS’ KARAOKE SONG ??

alexandrasaintmleux the video of you guys screaming every Chappell Roan song was just glorious i gotta say

user63 no I’m sorry I’m over it HOW ARE THOSE TWO FRIENDS IF LEWIS AND HER ARE NOT DATING

crazyhorseparis We’ll take the 6th pic for confirmation that you are not skipping training

yourusername I would never 😇

user63 and once again she’s naked, how surprising

user64 kinda sad to see Lewis associate with that kind of girl

user65 FR like everyone is simping, my man gotta wake up, hanging around strippers like that

charles_leclerc and yet y’all are obsessed with her 🤡

lewishamilton Gotta agree with you on this one

user66 my man is down bad on MAIN someone come get him

user67 bound to get his heart broken, there’s no trusting her

user68 Why is everyone talking about you and Lewis as if there was any confirmation you’re dating

Liked by yourusername

user69 BECAUSE IT’S SO NOT SUBTLE

user68 still suppositions, if she’s not I feel for her man being hidden like that…

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yln.guesthouse : Beautiful morning 🙏 “And let us consider how we may spur one another toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another” - Hebrews 10:24-25

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user70 no like come on HE’S STAYING AT HER MOTHER’S GUEST HOUSE

user71 MOTHER IN LAW

user72 mother in laaaaw

user73 shhhh guys let’s keep it on the down low, let me get intel

user73 Hi ma’am, what a gorgeous house ! And good choice of verse, one of my favorite too 🙌🏻 Could you tell me by chance if your guest house is currently booked ? Would love to stay in such a heavenly place soon

user74 ….

user75 did you fucking ask chatgpt to write that for you ???

yln.guesthouse Hi user73 ! We are in fact currently booked for some family time, but the rooms will be reopening in a week or so, please come ! 🤗

user74 I can’t believe this fucking worked

yourbff oh mama that is going to be hilarious

charles_leclerc pls do us a service and film

lewishamilton 10/10 breakfast, would recommend 👏🏾

user75 not even trying to hide it anymore lmao

lewishamilton just supporting local businesses

user76 please adopt me

user77 Bless your heart mother in law, you have no idea what’s coming

user78 Praise !! 🤍

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[Messages] Maman 🌺 has sent you a text

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yln.guesthouse : My mimi is back for vacation, and in very good company ! 🤍 Our house will always be open for good people, and our family ready to grow 🌺

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user79 WHEN I TELL YOU I SPIT OUT MY FUCKING DRINK

user80 and she tagged him too 😭😭😭

user81 mother in law has no chill

yourusername MAMAN

yln.guesthouse Mimi !!

yourusername NO NO MIMI omg what have you done

yln.guesthouse What again ??

coworker1 I think this is the best thing I’ve seen on the internet all week

charles_leclerc silly season has started and it’s just Lewis being exposed

user82 She even provides the thirst trap oh mother in law you are so good to us !!!

user83 “our family ready to grow” and Lewis dancing with kids my heart and ovaries can’t handle that

lewishamilton The pleasure is all mine ma’am 🤍

yourusername you’re on thin fucking ice Lew

lewishamilton you love me or your mom too much to do anything about it

lewishamilton also come back to bed

yourusername ok you’re blocked

user84 Oh I’m just going to go kill myself then

user85 *Pretends to be mad and proceeds to call him Lew in front of an audience*

user86 ok so everyone is just chill that THE Lewis Hamilton is dating a stripper ?

user87 yikes… on the mom’s page..? My man you really have no shame

yln.guesthouse My daughter ain’t no stripper, she’s a burlesque dancer, and an amazing one at that ! And even if she was, she’d had more integrity and class than any of you, and more money too !!

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user88 replied to the story :

NOOOOO FREE MOTHER IN LAW

charles_leclerc replied to the story :

Bienvenue dans la Scuderia aha

lewishamilton replied to the story :

I felt she was doing a good job though 😇

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yourusername : Guess the horse’s out of the bag 🤷🏽‍♀️

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user89 FINALLY

scuderiaferrari We give up.

valtteribottas Mothers : The worst nightmare of every PR Team

mercedesamgf1 Glad we didn’t have to deal with this one

user90 The devil works hard, but Y/N’s mother works harder

user91 The amount of Lewis’ body pics we’re getting from this relationship is enough to keep me happy for the whole season

crazyhorseparis Don’t thank us you’re welcome 🙄

yourusername AS IF YOU KNEW IT WOULD END UP THIS WAY

lewishamilton I knew

lewishamilton From the moment you appeared on stage I knew you’d be mine 💗

yourusername That was disgustingly sweet

yourusername Do it again 💗

user92 New team, new girlfriend, our man is happy and thriving

Liked by yourusername

alexandrasaintmleux Does it mean I can come see your show now ?

yourusername You always could, but I’ll get you all the freebies 🥰

user93 His standards have droooopped…

user94 Like his results are about to

yourbff Stay mad 😘

lewishamilton Never felt that prepared for a season 💪🏾

yourusername Not sure that’s thanks to me seeing how you were begging mercy earlier

lewishamilton I love you but you’re gonna have to meet the media training team

frederic.v Approved.

yourusername No 💗

user95 At this rate she’ll publish a whole ass sextape next

Liked by yourusername

*****

[Instagram] wagsupdates just posted a photo

wagsupdates : Another weekend with a 1-2 podium for the Scuderia Ferrari, and another race Lewis’s girlfriend, Y/N, was nowhere to be seen. Having yet to make an appearance next to the 7 World Champion in the paddock, fans are now questioning if they are even still together, or if she is maybe just uninterested. When asked about it, Alexandra Saint Mleux, who was repping once again her boyfriend’s colors, simply rolled her eyes and refused to answer. Outfit details for our favorite WAG coming soon !

Liked by user96, f1.driv.updates and others

view all comments

user96 She doesn’t deserve him if she can’t even show up to support him when he’s AT HIS BEST IN YEARS

user97 Yeah she’s basically with him for the fame and money, called it

user98 Honestly I’m more bothered about the fact that Lewis can’t even speak up to defend her

user99 Because there’s nothing to defend he knows he’s dating a whore

user100 I expected better from him

user101 Defending random women online but going mute when his own gf is attacked 🤨

user102 She has time to post pics of her ass but not to fly to a race ?

user103 ‘Twas probably just a winter fling

user104 No one could be better than Nicole anyway

user105 I’m starting to think y’all have never worked a day in your life

user106 ISTG they are crazy, and people call ME unemployed

*****

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

charles_leclerc replied to the story :

I’ve taken the liberty of sending you Alex’s lawyer details, he dealt with that kind of things before, and don’t hesitate if you need anything

lewishamilton replied to the story :

PR told me this was getting out of hand, I’m really sorry… Please give me a call when you’re home, no matter the hour. I love you 💗

coworker1 replied to the story :

My Queen 👑

user107 replied to the story :

Getting paid to get naked might be a job, but it sure isn’t a classy one

*****

[Twitter] lewishamilton just posted

*****

[Instagram] scuderiaferrari just posted a photo

scuderiaferrari : Spotted in Silverstone 👀❤️ We did host some very special guests today, and we think she did good with her color choices !

Liked by yourusername, yourbff and others

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user108 She’s so pretty omg anyone got her @ ??

user109 That’s Lewis’s girlfriend lmao

user108 Lewis has a girlfriend ???

user110 Have you been living under a rock the past few months ?

user111 who is that again ?

user112 Put real fans in the garage instead

moulinrougeofficiel Red suits her so well ❤️

crazyhorseparis Sorry, she’s a pink pony girl through thick and thin

user113 Sorry but I’m sold, her walking Roscoe with Alex and Leo was just too adorable

lewishamilton Grazie Ferrari, I’ve found home, peace and love (and just enough trouble to keep me on my toes)

user114 This man is so WHIPPED it’s not even funny

yourusername Did you just call me trouble ??

lewishamilton The most beautiful kind ❤️

lando get a room

charles_leclerc not mine preferably

user115 EXCUSE US ?

yourusername Turns out I like fast cars after all 🤷🏽‍♀️

user116 Enzo Ferrari rolling in his grave

user117 I think you’d be surprised

yln.guesthouse Mimi I saw you on TV !!

Liked by scuderiaferrari

*****

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user118 replied to the story :

Aaaaand she’s back at it again

alexandrasaintmleux replied to the story :

Oh you guys are in so much trouble

yourcoworker replied to the story :

any other hot winners you could introduce me to ??

scuderiaferrari replied to the story :

Y/N PLEASE DELETE

PICK UP THE PHONE

please Silvia is screaming at me I’m just gonna signal it for inappropriate content

You’re booked for media training tomorrow morning

*****

[Instagram] crazyhorseparis just posted a photo

crazyhorseparis : Backstage of our upcoming new show, starring yourusername as a soloist : Grand Prix 🏁❤️‍🔥 Book your tickets now for the premiere via the link in bio !

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user119 Is that her first solo ? It’s gonna be so good she’s one of my faves !

user120 Oh that is so not subtle

user121 WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN TO HAVE A SHOW DEDICATED TO ME

coworker2 Our shows are dedicated to all of our fans, and so to you too ❤️‍🔥

user121 oh miss 😳

alexandrasaintmleux Booking tickets now now now 💕💕💕

yourusername Thank you for the trust and the artistic direction ! To many more years being crazy together 🩷

user122 If anyone manages to get a video from it I’d be curious

*****

[Instagram] lewishamilton and yourusername just posted a photo

lewishamilton, yourusername : In French they don’t say “F*ck the haters”, they say “Va courir sur l’autoroute”, and I think that’s beautiful. Pink pony girl and Red horse guy, out for the summer break. Peace ✌🏾

charles_leclerc I did not teach you French for that Lewis 😐

lewishamilton coz I didn’t learn that one from you

user123 I don’t get the joke

user124 the French thing means “Go run on a highway” lmao

user125 No PR manager Lewis is my fav Lewis

yourusername That’s him having a PR manager btw

yourusername We barely managed to get that one published so I’ll let you imagine the first draft

user125 FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PUBLISH IT ON YOUR ACCOUNT

yourusername they’re restricting me too 😫

user126 FREE HER

yourusername yeah scuderiaferrari FREE ME

alexandrasaintmleux Mes amours ❤️

Liked by lewishamilton, yourusername, charles_leclerc

yourcoworker4 Have a nice break !! See you under the pink checkered flag in September 😉

user127 I hope they never stop getting naked on camera

user128 I hope they end up selling videos of it

yln.guesthouse Safe flight ! Love you both, see you soon 🤍

yourusername Love you maman !

lewishamilton Can’t wait 🥳

user129 Welp, guess I gotta go to Paris to find love too now

[saintslewis]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

— drabble.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black fem!reader

summary: the sun shined on the man himself, the one to break records, the one to raise the golden trophy.

warnings: outfit links, cussing, loads of happy tears, suggestive themes.

saint’s team radio 🪩: lewis mf hamilton won his 104th so you knowwwwwww i had to do it. thank you all for 1k and this is just the start of the celebration. congratulations to my husband 🥳 tags down below! (i put nads in the header but shhhhh)

pls like, comment and reblog 💗

Tying your shoelaces, you stood up straight and looked at yourself in the mirror. Fidgeting around with your hair and jewellery, you took several breaths to calm yourself down.

The previous day, Lewis took p2 for qualifying. It’s a well known fact that Silverstone is his playground but anything could happen, this race could go any which way and that’s what scared you the most.

“Should I take a jacket?” You called out to Lewis who was in his closet, most likely picking out his jewellery. “It won’t get too cold but I’ll take one for you.” He spoke, stepping out of the closet in his red ensemble, donning different types of pearls this time around and his black timbs shining.

Your eyes fell to his silhouette in your peripheral view and you turned your head so that your gaze fell upon him. He looked good, his head was high as he strode into the room with a special aura around him. You were always someone who had faith in anything Lewis does on track, no matter the place he finishes the race in, often treating a P7 like a podium.

The past two and a half years have been incredibly tough on Lewis and his mental health, often bringing himself down in the expense of his team’s terrible strategies. Finding it hard to wake up each and every day with a pained smile on his face whenever he walked into any paddock around, he knew he had his family as his biggest cheerleaders. Including you. In your wedding vows, he acknowledged how eternally grateful he was for you even after all the hardships he endured.

“Are we seriously matching?” Your shoulders dropped once you realised you were both wearing red. “I don’t know, I find it cute.” He smiled, giving you a wink and a pat on the ass before walking out of the room. Shaking your head, you fixed up your appearance before reaching for your handbag and you were out of the house in the nick of time. Confirming the logistics of bringing Roscoe along, you hopped in the same SUV and headed off to the track.

SILVERSTONE CIRCUIT

You poorly underestimated the weather that Silverstone would bring but as your husband promised, you had a jacket around your shoulders since the weather was predicted to change during the race. As nervous as you were, you walked and spoke with pure confidence.

Ever since you stepped in the paddock, eyes never strayed from the Hamilton family, more than usual. You had brushed it off and stayed in the garage along with your in-laws, your arms were around Willow’s shoulders as the national anthem concluded and teams were ready to start the race.

“Hopefully we’ll hear that again.” Carmen smiled at you as she took her seat next to you. “I’m hoping for a trophy lift of some sort.” You returned the smile and placed Willow on your lap as you sat down.

Anthony had appeared on screen, standing by Lewis with a straight face while looking at his son fix his balaclava. Anyone with eyes knew the energy that exuded from the 5 second clip, that was Lewis’ dad knowing that his son was not going to finish lower than P4.

You had already given him good luck hugs and kisses but your hands were still shaking because you knew anything could happen. Your heart calmed when your eyes landed on the crowd across the track and how so many of them were there to cheer for Lewis. Seas of the neon yellow your husband donned were strategically positioned in front of his garage and you could feel the support from your seat.

From lap 20, you couldn’t sit still but you tried your best to keep your seat as he stayed within the top 4. The beast that was the w15 was swiftly moving across the track and never slid even when the rain appeared.

George’s car rolled in the car after it was announced that he would retire from the race and your heart slightly sank although it made you slightly happy. The drivers behind Lewis weren’t exactly kind when it came to fighting for the number one spot but they hadn’t raced against Lewis in a long time so they were messing up strategies left right and centre as Lewis drove.

He was reminding people who the fuck he was in real time.

By the time the McLarens and the singular Ferrari had pitted by lap 44, you knew Lewis had this win or at least second place but your husband doesn’t exist to be second. You stood from your seat and joined Anthony at the edge of the garage, your right hand on your chest as your breaths became quicker with your left hand on your hip.

Tears prickled your eyes as Lewis stayed the race leader and as lap 52 began, a tear of joy slid down your face with the pit team already climbing the fence right next to the finish line. The crowd’s cheers overpowered that of Mercedes’ garage as the sun shined on his car, the top of his helmet glowing.

“Oh my God!” You screamed, your hands flailing about as your father in law celebrated next to you and eventually brought you into a bear hug. A wave of different emotions came over you as you tried to catch your breath and you were able to compose yourself as cameras came rushing to the garage.

Walking with your in laws to parc femme, you watched Lewis park the car and wrap the flag around his shoulders, the crowd cheering even louder than before. He embraced his father and you could see his shoulders slightly bouncing and your heart was pounding at the thought of him crying under the helmet. Eventually prepping himself for his post-race interview, he ran over to where you stood with his family.

His eyes caught your tearful ones just after he let go of his mom’s face. The smile that spread across his face was pure joy and his eyes held so much warmth even though he was a few meters from you. He quickly strode to you and you opened your arms to lock around his neck.

“I’m so proud of you, my love. So proud.” Your voice shook as you moved to hold his face. “I love you.” He said, kissing your forehead and blinked away the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “I love you so much, thank you.” He repeated, squeezing your waist a little then let go of you. Before you could respond, Lewis sent back a smile as he had to continue the interviews.

The podium was as magical as the win itself, drops of the champagne landed on you as he sprayed the crowd but you didn’t mind. Anything to see him smile like he had on that podium.

-

“King of Silverstone, huh?” You smiled as you walked out of the bathroom clad in a silk robe with a surprise hidden underneath. Lewis looked up from his phone, his back against the headboard. Just like the morning before, his gaze fell on your body and he could not take his eyes off you.

He quickly glanced at the time, the digital clock reading 4 am and he thought you two would be utterly exhausted after his celebration party but you had proved him wrong. You sashayed onto the bed and sat next to him with your knees underneath you, his head following you throughout.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me.” Lewis spoke, itching to touch you as his eyes wandered to the cleavage your silk robe displayed as you sat close to your husband. “I’m so proud of you, my love. Never giving up and staying strong throughout everything you went through is admirable.” You praised, your hand at the back of his head with your nails lightly scratching his nape. Although you could tell he was not paying attention.

“Lewis?”

“Hm?”

“Did you hear anything I said?” You chuckled and his eyes finally connected with yours. “Uh…yeah.” He tried to give you an answer but his eyes were then glued on your glossy lips.

Smiling at your husband’s actions, you reached for the knot of the robe and slowly began untying it. “Since today is your day,” Sliding off the soft material of your shoulders, you continued. “You can do whatever you want to me.” Your words were soft yet seductive.

“Anything?” Lewis questioned.

“You deserve it, Sir.”

saint’s notes: i did NAWT mean to take this long with this, oh em gee. i hope you guys love it and yes, i’m still living off the high from July 7th 🫶🏽

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @non-stop-imagines @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @cocobutterqwueen @queenshikongo3 @saturnville @serpenttines-library @emjayewrites @arshiyuh @motheroffae @henneseyhoe @shhhchriss

[natailiatulls07]

Can you please do plationic drivers with redbull driver reader and she has all the older drivers and team principals especially Christian wrapped around her finger and can never get in trouble and the younger drivers made it their mission to get them to see she’s not innocent but it always backfires? 🤷‍♀️

OC x Driver!reader Lando Norris x Platonic!reader Oscar Piastri x Platonic!reader Logan Sargeant x Platonic!reader

Summary - The request above x

Warning - Slight smut

A/n - I change it slightly from the request because I feel like I don't write enough Mercedes!reader

Reader drives for Mercedes

-

Mercedes driver, Y/n L/n was loved. She had many people wrapped around her pinky finger; including Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton and her team principal, Toto Wolff. It’s safe to say that she got the best princess treatment imaginable. 

Of course with this treatment, many thought of her as spoiled and also thought she got away with too much both off and on track. Including other drivers such as Oscar Piastri, Logan Sargeant and especially Lando Norris. They were all a bit suspicious of her.

- 

It was media day. Around the sofa in the conference room sat the two McLaren boys, Logan Sargeant and Carlos Sainz. The press conference was scheduled to begin ten minutes ago, yet it was being held off. Why? Because Princess Mercedes hadn’t arrived yet. 

They were all just waiting for her. Unlike the younger drivers on the sofa next to him, Carlos was patient and was desperately trying to reason as to why Y/n was late to the others. Only getting several groans, eyerolls and annoyed frowns from them in return. 

“Mate, just admit it. This is annoying, she’s wasting our time” Lando argued back with his old teammate. 

But was unsuccessful when Carlos just shook his head before defending her again. “She had a hard weekend last week, we have to be patient with her…” Y/n didn’t have a hard weekend, far from it. She got on the podium but not her usual position of first place, only being able to finish the race in third. Logan couldn’t believe how manipulated Carlos was by the Mercedes driver.

Standing from his seat, Oscar pulled the others' attention towards him. All of them looked at him with confused frowns. “I’m going to find her, she has to be around here. Anyone joining me?” And suddenly the confused frowns on Logans and Landos face turned to smirks that matched Oscars.

All three drivers made their way out of the conference room and through the paddock to the Mercedes motorhome. It was a surprise for the Mercedes team and other people in the paddock to see two papaya drivers and one dark blue driver entering the motorhome. 

Some of the team tried to stop the boys from climbing the stairs up to Totos office and the two drivers' rooms but were unable to stop them. So once they got up the stairs, it was Toto's turn to be confused. 

“Uh excuse me, you shouldn’t be up here…” He tried to reason with them but couldn’t. “Seriously you can’t be-” He was cut off by Lando asking a question.

“L/n? Where is her driver room? She’s late for the press conference…” Logan could see how Totos' eyes softened at the mention of one of his drivers before pointing down the small hall to the last door on the right. “Thanks.”

With big strides in his step Lando followed by the other two, made his way to the Y/n’s driver room. Banging his fist on the door loudly, they could hear some intimate noises. The smirk deepened on his face and his eyes widened. 

-

I wasn’t meant to get intimate with my personal trainer. It was just that he was there, we had that tension between us. 

One second, I was finishing up my instagram live. And next…I was half naked and laid under Don on my sofa. Upon hearing movement outside my door, my whines and moans were quietened.

We were having fun, both of us feeling aroused by the whole thing. Yes, it was risky but that added to it. Smirks were painted on our faces and our eyes were on each other. The two of us in our sexual heavens, it was like nothing could break us from that.

Except a loud banging on my door. I sit up. Clutching my chest protectively and eyes widening. I look over to Don. He’s rushing to pull on his boxers and teamwear. 

Luckily I had pulled a nearby blanket over myself and Don had his boxers on when Lando followed by Logan and Oscar had crashed through my door. All three of them with chester cat smirk on their faces. 

Lando’s the first to speak out of everyone. “Ah ‘innocent Mercedes driver caught mid make out with her personal trainer’ Imagine that all over twitter…” He chuckles, slowly stepping backwards ready to parade around the paddock with this new scandalous piece of information.

Leaping forward, holding the blanket around myself, I grasp onto his wrist. My eyes piercing into his own. This would ruin me, I couldn’t have my innocent image tainted. “Please Lando! Don’t do this!” 

He only replies with a shameless giggle, shaking off my hand and rushing out of the room, with the other two hot on his tail, back to Toto. Almost giving myself whiplash, I turn to look over to Don. Our eyes widened and panicky. 

With the identical look in our eyes, we both move quickly to put everything back in order and to make it seem like nothing happened. I’m quick to pull on my teamwear with Don doing the same with his own. A swift look in the mirror helps me smoothen my hair down and wipe away the soft smeared makeup on my face. 

Only managing to breath out a sigh of relief before we hear the sound of rushed footsteps again. Toto and Lewis softly open the door, behind them I can see the others trying to hold in their smirks.

The older two both look confused as me and Don both feign innocence. “Hey guys, is there something wrong? Me and Don were just going over my new diet” Speaking softly, I know that I will win this. I watch as Toto shakes his head and gives me a sweet smile.

“Oh nothing, these three trespassers claimed you guys were uh…” An awkward tension falls in the air. He was too embarrassed to continue the sentence so in order to help him out I just frown my eyebrows and shake my head innocently.

Behind them, I can see the smirks falling from Landos, Logans and Oscars. They know immediately that they’ve lost. It’s hard for me to hold in my laughter but I manage to do it. “All good, we were just finishing actually…” I turn my back to the five and I face Don, now letting a smirk make its way on my face. “Thank you Don, I will be sure to start on that new diet”

Don nods softly, aware that his boss and the other drivers can all see his facial expressions so he leaves it to a small gentle smile. “Of course, well if you excuse me I have to go. Bye Y/n, bye everyone…”

We all watch as he makes his way out of my room and down the hall, followed closely by Toto and Lewis. This gives me a chance to smirk at Lando, Oscar and Logan who all look defeated. “Don’t we have a press conference to get to? Wouldn't want to be late right?” I quip cheekily in a gentle whisper.

-

[iridescentflamingo]

Silly stupid idea

You've known the turtles for less than a year and they told you that there's a few weeks in spring they have intense training and cannot have guests. You accept this and ask no questions about it. You're hanging out, playing cards after dinner and chilling. The few weeks are coming soon and you're trying to get more hang time with them.

Splinter enters the kitchen. He watches the five of you play for a bit before getting something out of the cupboards and glancing at the calendar. "Ah, is it already March? Have you boys warned Y/N about those upcoming weeks?"

Leonardo looks up and over to his father, "Yes, we told her about the intense spring training we'll be doing. She knows we'll call her when we're finished."

You glance up and see the brothers exchange looks that are subtle, but you've been getting better at picking up their body language.

Splinter makes a huff in his throat. "Ah, spring training, yes." He comes closer to the table, eyeing Leo's cards. "Training your wrists and testing my patience."

Michelangelo spits soda out of his nose and Donatello chokes on the snacks he was eating. You look around confused. Leo scrambles and quickly adds, "Yeah, Sensei, the weapons training can get pretty serious." He stares his father down, his face trying to remain neutral, but you can see his eyes twitch just slightly.

Splinter makes that huff noise again. It almost sounds like a scoff. "Weapons training, yes." He reaches across the table for a handful of pretzels as Mikey wipes the soda off his cards and Raph pats Donnie's chest.

Splinter munches one as the table gets uncomfortably quiet. He looks over to you. "You know, Raphael and Leonardo almost killed each other one year. I will never forget. It was the beginning of the season and we had just watched a movie. What was it? It had that one actress in it."

Mikey, not thinking, answers, "The Terminator."

"Yes, The Terminator. The action movie about robots with that muscle hero man from Europe. I thought it would be safe, you know, but Leonardo and Raphael got into this huge argument about the actress. Oh, her name was Hampton, something Hampton."

"Linda Hamilton." Mikey corrects. Raph reaches over and socks him in the arm. "Hey!"

"Yes! Linda Hamilton. They got in this huge fight about her and they started to yell and then it turned into a wrestling match and then they started to bellow at each other. Do you remember that, boys?" Splinter chuckled.

Leo and Raph looked mortified, but Mikey was laughing. "Yeah, Don and I had to pry them apart, there was blood everywhere."

"We were fifteen," Leo said through practically gritted teeth, "That was a long time ago, Sensei. We don't do that anymore. Spring training is a lot easier now. We don't get as competitive."

Splinter chuckled again. "Those first seasons were so rough. You boys were all over the place, so angry, so intense, and the smell. Ugh. I am so glad that you are more controlled these days."

"We're not teens anymore, Dad. We know how t' train without fighting about it." Raphael said, adding emphasis on the word train.

Splinter nodded his head, biting into another pretzel, a pensive look on his face. "This is true. You are all grown now, and I only grow older." He patted you on the shoulder as he made his move to depart. "Maybe next year one of you will invite Ms. Y/N to your spring training so that I will enjoy some grand-kids before I die, hmmm?"

As he made his way from the table, you turned and blinked, utterly confused and seeing mortified faces on all four turtles.

@thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @sophiacloud28 @thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch

@tmntngl @avery73 @milykins @adebauchedsloth

@justalotoffanfiction @truffle-reblogs

[imagine-it-was-us]

greasy spoon || Lewis Hamilton

Inspiration: Sam Fender Greasy spoon

Author's note: This one is thick and heavy. Also, just to add - "Greasy spoon" can not only be interpreted like the story about the victim of dv, it's open ended and can surely being tied to other struggles. Us women should just stick together and look out for each other.

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x coworker

Warnings: mentions of dv, anxiety, threats. Please read at your own risk.

Summary: Lewis starts to notice the little things – late nights, a flinch at an unexpected touch, a guarded smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Jen is composed, meticulous, always in control – until the cracks begin to show. As concern grows, he faces a question he isn’t sure he has the right to ask: how well do we really know the people we work with?

Word count: 3.6k+

The first time Lewis noticed that something was out of the ordinary as she flinched when a wrench slipped out of the mechanic’s hand and landed next to her feet. The sharp clang of the wrench echoed off the garage walls, a common symphony in the bustling Ferrari workspace. It was loud and it was completely fine to feel threatened when a tool was flying your way. But there was something about how her reaction seemed to linger as if she still felt in danger even after the mechanic apologized and was gone after that. The racer and her, logistics coordinator, were casually discussing about the next stop of the GP which was Japan, as she was trying to acquire information about his needs for the accommodation.

Lewis was still new to the team behind Ferrari and being an empath he sometimes still struggled to understand the emotions behind the faces. The first time he arrived at the facility in the preparations for the season, everyone seemed to be on the tip toes. After all, him joining the team came with a sense of expectation and was a big deal so he didn’t make a big deal about people feeling nervous around him. But it was in his best interest to create a strong sense of calm around him, as the tranquil environment helped him keep his mind as sharp as possible. Lewis had been with the team long enough to see the tension fade. Most of the staff had relaxed around him. 

She hadn’t.

And he wasn’t sure if she was starstruck or there was something else. He always thought the latter, because according to other members of the staff, she was here for more than five years and was exceptionally professional, always performing well. She was here when Sebastian Vettel was around and she basically saw Charles Leclerc grow up. Other teams also knew her for the craft, so it is safe to say that the buzz of the other driver shouldn’t be shaking her to her core. Yet somehow her hands still shock slightly after the “wrench situation” no matter how hard she was gripping her binder to possibly cover it up and get a grip.

“You’re good?” Lewis casually asked after finishing a work related conversation. It was nothing unusual for him to chat the crew up.

“Yeah, my sleeping schedule is a bit messed up, still not getting used to these Asia-Pacific timelines,” she brushed it off. 

Valid excuse. Logical. But something about the way she said it felt... rehearsed. Lewis nodded, deciding not to push. By all means, they were just coworkers, so who he was to nag her.

______

The Japan GP was the first major success for the team, marking Ferrari’s long-awaited return to dominance with a spectacular 1-2 podium. Suzuka Circuit had always been a favorite among drivers, but tonight, it felt like a stage for something even bigger - momentum, confidence, and perhaps, the start of something special. For the first time since donning the red race suit, Lewis felt truly at home behind the wheel of the red sports car. It had responded to him like an extension of himself, and as he stood beneath the podium, champagne soaking into his suit, the roar of the Tifosi in the stands made it all sink in.

There was an electric buzz in the air, the kind that only victory could bring. Confetti fluttered through the paddock like falling cherry blossoms, cameras flashed relentlessly, and the scent of tire smoke still lingered, mingling with the crisp night air. Spirits were high, and the decision was made almost instantly - tonight, the main team would go out to celebrate. Victories, after all, were meant to be savored.

Later that night, the private bar pulsed with warmth and laughter, a stark contrast to the cold, calculated world of pit strategy and data sheets. Ferrari red blended with relaxed, casual wear, but the conversation never strayed too far from racing - talks of aerodynamics mixed seamlessly with jokes about the team's superstitions. Glasses clinked, shoulders relaxed, and for once, the team allowed themselves to bask in the afterglow of success.

Lewis, nursing a drink as he leaned against the bar, scanned the room. It was rare to see everyone so unguarded, and he took a moment to soak it all in. Then, a thought struck him.

“Have you seen Jen?” he asked, turning to Enrico, one of the technical engineers, his voice casual but laced with curiosity.

“Jen from logistics?” Enrico asked and after the nod, encouraging him to carry on, he just lightly shook his head. “Oh no, she rarely, if ever, joins these kinds of spontaneous events. She’s really into her time being planned down to every second, maybe that’s why we never rarely have issues with logistics, it always works like clockwork.”

Enrico's answer was casual but when he said rubbed Lewis in the wrong way. It wasn’t that she was absent – plenty of team members skipped nights out – but the way Enrico spoke about her, like she existed only within the structure of her job, distant from the camaraderie of the team. She’d been with Ferrari for years, yet it seemed like no one really knew her.

“I mean what does one do in a foreign country on Sunday night?” he tried to make the question sound as light as possible, not trying to be seen as prying.

“I don’t know, she rarely talks about her life outside Formula 1. Maybe her fiancé has joined her for the GP. Maybe she is just tired after the whole spare parts being held up in customs shenanigans,” Enrico once again shrugged, unbothered.

Lewis nodded along, pretending to let the conversation drift, but the unease lingered. The thought of her spending the night alone – or worse, not being alone but being isolated in another way – bothered him more than he expected. He’d seen how the F1 world could consume people, turn their entire existence into travel schedules and race weekends. But this felt like something else. Something heavier.

He took another sip of his drink, eyes flickering back to the door, wondering if maybe, just maybe, she’d change her mind and walk in.

She never did.

___________

The next few GP were for getting to know her and looking for more subtle clues. Few things caught Lewis' eyes not soon after. 

One of which – the fact that she seemed to be more relaxed around the female employees. She wasn’t the smiliest and the most expressive person nonetheless but she at least didn’t seem to tense up or catch her breath whenever female colleagues would chat her up or approach asking technical questions. Same couldn’t be said about male employees. And it wasn’t about being starstruck or even the power play, where she would worry about the impression she is leaving. Any male surrounding her seemed to tense her up in a subtle, yet noticeable way. You just had to pay attention.

While doing just that, Lewis realized another suggestive giveaway. She rarely, if ever, wore a short-sleeved shirt – even when it was unbearably warm outside or the sun had been shining since early morning. She always opted for a long-sleeved shirt or sweatshirt, occasionally pushing the sleeves up to her elbows but never beyond that. Instead of shedding a layer to cool off, she would pat her forehead with a damp tissue to wipe away the pooling sweat. Whenever someone commented on it, she would brush it off with a lighthearted excuse – saying she had forgotten a T-shirt at the hotel or that the short-sleeved one underneath was dirty.

The last thing that caught Lewis' eyes was the perfectionism she seemed to be pushing for. Of course, it was applaudable to have a literal logistics guru within the team, who resolved any issue that might arise even at the last minute. But to some point it seemed to be concerning that she would rather pull an all nighter looking for the way to make things work perfectly rather than accepting the defeat, even though the cause of the issue had nothing to do with her or the lack of her interference. It was like she was afraid of failing those around her, of making the mistake. 

During one of those late nights in Imona, Lewis was doing a late call with sponsors in the US so he stayed in the facilities a little bit longer than the rest of the team. When he finished the call, she was still there, sitting by her computer and staring at the screen, her gaze zoned out. As Lewis didn’t want to startle her, he made his footsteps heavier than usual just so she would hear him coming from afar.

“Not in any rush to get home?” the driver asked while keeping a fair amount of distance between them. For the last couple months then Lewis started analyzing Jen, he was always trying to keep the relationship brief, not pushing her to talk more than she wanted. Their interactions were short, yet she seemed to trust him a little bit more every time they talked. Maybe it was down to the trust, that was slowly but surely building up. Or maybe it was due to the fact that Lewis had observed her enough to know what actions to avoid and how to approach her without causing unnecessary anxiety. Or maybe a little mixture of both. 

She shifted the gaze from the screen to him once he spoke. There was no flinching this time.

“Yeah, this limited edition gear was supposed to arrive like a few hours ago and it hasn’t turned up so I’m just trying to figure out where it got stuck,” another perfectly plausible explanation left her mouth.

“Couldn’t you do it from home? Or just pass it to someone else. Heard that you live quite close to the track, you could be enjoying your own peace for once” Lewis continued casually, yet his intention was to test another theory of his.

Jen’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, but her screen remained unchanged. Lewis noticed the briefest hesitation. Normally, her excuses came effortlessly, polished and ready. This time, there was a pause, like she was flipping through a mental catalog of explanations and coming up empty.

She swallowed and finally said. “Yeah, I guess I could… but, you know, I’m already here.” A forced chuckle. “Might as well get it done.”

Lewis didn’t reply right away. He just watched her for a moment, letting the weight of the silence settle between them. She wasn’t looking at him anymore. She seemed to be avoiding his gaze, her eyes had drifted back to the screen, but she wasn’t reading whatever was on it. She was just waiting for him to move on, to let it drop.

But he didn’t. Instead, he took a slow step closer, still careful to keep a respectable distance. No sudden movements. No pressure. Just enough to make her know he wasn’t just going to let this slide like everyone else had.

And it wasn’t because he wanted anything from her. This wasn’t about attraction or some misplaced hero complex. Lewis had seen what abuse did to people. How it wrecked someone until they barely recognized themselves. And if his gut was right, that was exactly what was happening to Jen. He wasn’t trying to break up a relationship to have her for himself. He wasn’t trying to play the savior. This was just human decency. She was a friend, a damn good coworker, and if she was in trouble, he wasn’t about to look the other way.

“You know,” he started, his tone casual but steady, “back when I was in Mercedes, there was this girl on the team. One of the marketing team. She was real professional, always the last to leave the paddock. Everyone just thought she was extra dedicated. Turns out, she wasn’t staying late because of work. She was staying late because home wasn’t safe,” Lewis said simply, letting the words hang in the air. 

He wasn’t looking directly at her now, giving her space to absorb it without feeling cornered. “Took a while for anyone to figure it out. She was good at hiding it. Always had a reason, an excuse that no one questioned. But the truth was, that every time she walked out those doors, it was like… she was walking into something worse.”

Jen exhaled, slow and measured. Her knuckles were white where she clutched the edge of her desk. She wasn’t running this time. She was listening.

Lewis continued, his voice soft. “Took a long time before she let anyone help her. You get so used to it, you start thinking it’s normal. Maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe it’s your fault.” He shook his head. “But it’s never normal. And it’s never your fault.”

For the first time since this conversation started, Jen looked at him properly. And this time, Lewis didn’t see that rehearsed professionalism she always wore like armor. This time, she just looked tired, like whatever was happening was catching up with her. 

He let out a small breath, offering her the space to say something if she wanted to. When she didn’t, he simply added, “You don’t have to talk. Not if you’re not ready. But if you ever need an excuse, an out, a safe place, just know that I see you and I got you.”

Jen’s lips parted, like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, she gave the smallest nod that one could miss with a blink of the eye. A crack in the walls that had been up for the longest time. 

____

After Monaco, another victorious day for the Ferrari at Charles homeground, there was a brief sigh of relief amongst the team. But Silvertone was just a few Grand Prix away, and the tension of another home race was settling over the team. Everyone was feeling the weight of expectation. Yet Lewis had started to notice that Jen was carrying something heavier.

During European GPs, her makeup had been heavier, layered just a little too perfectly in places that didn’t need it. She was also thinner than before – noticeably by now, to the point where her uniform looked a little looser on her. 

And then there were the bruises.

Lewis hadn’t been looking for them and it wasn’t like she hasn’t been doing everything in her power to cover them up, but once, in the middle of a conversation, she had reached up absentmindedly to tuck her hair behind her ear, and the cuff of her sleeve had shifted just enough. A faint mark—yellowing, almost healed, but still there.

And still, she went about her days, pretending everything was fine.

It was the final stretch before Silverstone. The logistics team was wrapping up last-minute adjustments, and most of the staff were already talking about heading back to the hotel to rest before their flights later that evening. The sun was still high, casting sharp shadows across the paddock.

Lewis had been in and out of the meetings all morning, finishing all the last briefings after the Austrian GP. He was making his way back to the garage when he heard her voice. At first, it was nothing unusual. A phone call. Work-related, maybe. But as he went around the corner, he saw her standing further away from everyone, white knuckles clenching the phone. Whatever was being said on the other end, caused her an excessive amount of anxiety, as he has never seen a person shaken to its core like that.

She was trying to cut into the monologue on the other end, but she didn’t even finish the sentence and flinched, moving a phone a few centimeters away from the ear. That’s when she lifted her eyes and saw Lewis standing dead in his feet, staring at her from a few meters away, as if he was waiting for a signal to act. And for the first time since the driver had started paying attention, she wasn’t trying to run away or to brush it off, deny it.

Jen finally hung up, her fingers lingering on the screen for a second longer than necessary, her shoulders stiff with tension. For a moment, she was frozen, caught between the remains of the call and the realization that someone had seen everything.

Her jaw clenched, her breath hitched. He expected an excuse, something quick and dismissive, but it never came.

Instead, her shoulders slumped. And in the quietest, most exhausted voice, she whispered:

“I can’t go to him tonight.”

Lewis didn’t hesitate.

“Come with me.”

He didn’t say where. Didn’t push for anything else. Just left the offer open, solid and steady, giving her the space to take it. This time, she did.

Lewis got her into his driver’s room, shutting the door with a quiet click. Jen didn’t sit right away. She stood stiffly near the couch, arms wrapped tightly around herself like she was trying to hold something in – hold herself together.

Lewis didn’t push. He grabbed a chair, turning it toward her, giving her the space to come to him when she was ready. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“I forgot to clean his shirt.”

Lewis frowned. “What?”

She let out a hollow, broken laugh, shaking her head. “His shirt. For a business meeting. I was supposed to make sure it was ironed and ready, but after yesterday’s GP I got home late, and I forgot.”

The weight of those words settled between them. Lewis clenched his jaw, his chest tightening – not at her, but at the fact that she thought this was the problem. That she had been conditioned to believe she had done something so unforgivable.

“He said that he is going to kill me, because I embarrassed him. Lewis, I don’t even know, the words have been on loop in my head since the call and it feels like he wasn’t lying this time.” 

The words landed heavy. They weren’t dramatic. Weren’t exaggerated. Just true. Like she hadn’t even let herself fully process them until she said them out loud.

Lewis exhaled slowly, steadying himself before he spoke. Then, carefully, he leaned forward.

“Jen,” he said, voice firm but careful, “you are not going back to him.”

She sat down slowly, hands still gripping her arms. After hearing Lewis, her immediate reaction was to defend him, like she has always done. “He wasn’t always like this.”

Lewis stayed quiet. He wasn’t here to rush her, wasn’t here to fill the silence with empty reassurances. He just let her talk. 

“In the beginning, he was… rough, but not with me. Never with me,” she murmured. “It was like… I knew he had a temper, but I thought I’d never be the target of it. He just seemed to be rather clingy, wanting to spend every waking minute with me.” A bitter smile flickered across her lips. “Then, after I agreed to marry him, something changed. Like I belonged to him now. And that meant he could say whatever he wanted. Do whatever he wanted.”

Even though her attempt of softening the situation rubbed him the wrong way, Lewis knew better than to react. Probably for years she was fed the narrative that people around that piece of garbage deserved what they’ve got. And then naturally, when his attitude shifted towards her, she thought that it was exactly what she had deserved.

Jen swallowed hard, staring at the floor. “It started small. Just comments. Controlling things, like who I talked to, how I dressed, how I spent my time. And then, when I refused to quit my job, he got… worse.”

Lewis didn’t move. But his fingers pressed against his knee, tight enough that his knuckles ached.

“The first time he hit me was a few months ago. Remember our brief interaction before Japan? I was hit earlier that day, almost first thing in the morning,” she admitted, voice barely audible. She thought it was shameful. “I had already thought about leaving, but he found out. He made sure I knew that I couldn’t.” She let out a shuddering breath. “I barely keep in touch with my friends and family anymore. I was never allowed to make any new meaningful connections too. I don’t know how, but he made sure of that, too.”

She lifted her gaze then, meeting Lewis’s. “Nobody knows. You’re the first person I’ve told.”

Lewis’s chest felt tight, the weight of her words sinking in. But this wasn’t about his anger, his frustration, or how much he wanted to hunt this man down himself.

This was about her.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said simply. “You aren’t alone.”

Her breath hitched, and for the first time since she stepped into this room, her shoulders relaxed – just the slightest bit.

_____

Lewis didn’t waste time. Within hours after their conversation, arrangements had been made. Her accommodations in Silverstone were locked down, security was informed, and he had called in a few quiet favors to ensure she’d be safe. He handled it the way he handled pressure in the car – with precision.

He didn’t make a show of it. Didn’t give her a speech about how she deserved better or how she was stronger than this. She already knew all of that. She had been surviving on her own for months.

She just needed help. And he wasn’t about to let her down. It was about making sure that when she finally took the step to get away, she had somewhere safe to land. And if that meant stepping up? Then he would. No question about it.

Jen didn’t say much, but when later that night their plane touched down in the UK, she let out a breath like she was finally exhaling after holding it in for years.

For now, it wasn’t over. But for the first time, it felt like she had a way out.

[duchessbird]

oh, father! where art thou?

part four.

highschool au, long lost lovers, enemies to lovers if you squint, grumpy and sunshine-esque dynamics (eventually), simon riley & fem!reader.

cw) angst, use of 2nd person, allusions/vague depictions to intimacy eventually, drinking eventually, breakdowns, motherhood, simon riley is father, un-canon lore! all of it eventually, MILITARY INACCURACIES SORRY SUE ME also not proofread!!! :U

a/n: guys!!! i have 100 likes on this account already 🥹 i want to kiss you all! also peep the hamilton reference ;P (sorry listening to “the world was wide enough” rn LOLL)

a/n 2: THIS IS SO FECKIN SHORT IM SORRY luvvies i try my best omggg !! also i might try to start writing some more intimate scenes ! if that’s something you’d all want! i’ve never written anything super explicit so ! tips are appreciated (no pun intended)

to my favourites! @girl-lostconnection @alkalineapparition and everyone else!

a/n 3: (i can’t shut the fuck up) if you want to be on my tag list comment on this post / my masterlist / send me a message! okay sorry bye enjoy

previous part

— dianna

It has been nearly three months since you’ve seen Simon. Boot camp has been nothing short of Hell, he’s told you in his letters. But he also tells you he’s happy. That the busyness makes him forget about his family. Or the lack thereof. That the working out makes him feel human again, and he loves the physical labor. Loves feeling needed.

And you write back that you love him. And that you can’t wait to see him again.

But the tap out is today. You’re bouncing on your feet getting ready, dressed in the sweetest sundress you own, taming your waves and beating your face. You’re a vision by the time you’re done and you nearly fall down the stairs from excitement. Imagine that.

“Sorry babe! Can’t come get you! In the hospital! Catch a ride! :,)” Ludicrous.

You make it to your car by some miracle and you’re at awe at the English scenery, and how it swishes by in an instant. Old buildings lining the busy streets, and historical landmarks on each corner. Such a vibrant city, Manchester. You can’t wait for Simon to be reminded of all of it.

You drive an hour or so out of the city, to a base secluded in on open field. You’ve never been to this part of England, despite living your life here. You park your car among others. Among mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. You realize now, that even if Simon makes this a permanent thing, you will not be an island unto yourself.

This thought comforts you as you walk, guided by signs and fancy military higher-ups. You see a field of men, dressed nearly the same despite some missing hats and some donning a jacket. A man finishes making a speech that has no significance to you, and you search the sea of men for Simon.

Searching excitedly for him, you bump into a man who dwarfs you. He is considerably large, his shirt fighting for its life. You scramble to apologize, looking up at him to realize he’s wearing. . . a plain black balaclava? The bridge of his nose is visible between his eyes, but everything else is simply a shadow.

But you’ve seen these eyes before. These eyes have undressed you, and these eyes have watched you walk from your final lesson to the parking lot. These eyes watched you graduate secondary school.

Is this Simon?

Who is this? It can’t be him.

The man takes off the balaclava before your mental battle is over and shoves it into his back pocket, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders before kissing you sloppily — not giving you a moment to register the face under the fabric.

You pull away, your hand flying to pull your neckline above your cleavage again and you apologize.

“You have got the wrong girl, I can assure you! My boyfriend is around here somewhere. Maybe you know him? Simon?” And the man chuckles gruffly, forcing you to look at him.

“I know him well, dove,” he whispers softly, kissing your forehead. Millions of questions rush through your mind.

When did Simon get so strong?

What’s with the balaclava?

There is no time for you to ask for any answers before a man walks over, an ignorant saunter in his hips and a grin larger than life itself plastered on his face.

“This your bird, Ghost?” The man chuckles softly, patting your boyfriend’s back. He is so chipper and Scottish enough to almost make his words incoherent.

Ghost? What the hell happened while he was away from you?

“She’s my girlfriend, Johnny. Not just a bird,”

“Aye, my fault. Nice to meet you.” The man — Johnny — winks at you and shows himself off somewhere else.

“I’ll explain everythin’ later,” Simon says, as if he can read your thoughts. He follows you to the car, and the ride is silent.

So is dinner.

So is aftercare.

There are never answers. The balaclava sits on his desk, teasing you. Daring you to press the issue. But you never can. You wake up next to Simon for the duration of him being home, but you’re unsure who it is you’re truly waking up besides. Who has killed Simon and left this man in his space? In your bed? In your shower? Who has killed Simon and left this man to fuck you?

You feel horrible, you do. But, it’s. . . he’s quieter. Curter with you. This is when you decide to press the issue.

You decide while he’s nose-deep in your tits is best. Licking and biting like a man starved, getting his friction from the sheet.

“What’s with the mask?”

He audibly groans, negatively, and sits up. “Good timin’,” he snarks and goes to change into some new sweatpants. “Nothin’ ‘bout it, luv. Just don’t want all those people seein’ my face. I ‘on’t know. Didn’t figure it’d be an issue.” He explains, almost bored. “Don’t know these people. Don’t tell ‘em my name.”

“An’ you never thought to mention this’a me?” You’re not sure why you’re so irritated about this. Maybe because Simon has changed so much, so quickly. The muscle you don’t mind. But it’s everything else. The anonymity. The curtness. You know what happens from here, and it causes your eyes to sting. You know that one day, Simon will go from curt to silent. He will lose everything that brought you to him, and he will be a shell of himself. War is not kind. It is not gentle. It tears and destroys all in its path. War is not about what is right, it is who is left when all is said and done. And you’ve started crying.

“You’re different, Simon. You are short with me now. These is a different air about you. You don’t even wear the same cologne! You haven’t even unpacked your duffel, ‘ike you’re ready’a go back already! You’re still hiding things from me! Why are ya doin’ that?!” You’re ready to keep screaming but he cuts you off by shoving your face in his pecs. It’s not so bad here.

“Stop.” He orders. Already barking like orders like he’s some kind of Lieutenant. Oh, God, Lieutenant Riley? Could you imagine? You hope he lives to make it that far. “I understand why y’re upset, luv. Y’re scared of change, and of my change, but we weren’t goin’a be those same, timid fuckin’ secondary kids forev’a, yeah? Hell, y’ve changed ‘fore I did. Y’re gorgeous, and y’re a spitfire, luv. Got a sharp tongue now. I’m sorry if’ya think I’ve been short wit’ ya. And I’m not hidin’ nothin’ from you. I jus’ like my privacy, yeah? Don’t know those men, yeah? N’ I’m sorry that me losin’ the cologne is botherin’ ya, but it was from my Dad, luvvie. Couldn’t keep holdin’ on’na it.” He explains, and you feel a bit silly now. “We were bound’a change, luv.” He shrugs, kissing your head. “How can I make it easier for ya?” He asks, and your heart melts. You know now that you only have one condition.

“If you can just stay alive, that would be enough.” You plead, big ol’ doe eyes and batting eyelashes helping your case tenfold.

“I’ll fight for you, my luv. No one else can protect you like I can,” he says and you snort. So cocky, so quickly. You give him that luxury.

“Any other conditions, luv?” He asks, chuckling gruffly at your snort.

“I bought some new rubbers in preparation for today. Yes, there are many’a ways you can make this easier,” you wink. You’re stumbling into bed so quickly that you forget the rubber that started this to begin with.

Oh, what’s one round without it?

[scuderia-piastri]

starting line

✮⋆˙ summary: it’s media day for the first race of the season and eyes are on the rookie for ferrari

✮⋆˙ warnings: none!

rrcsav masterlist

there are maybe seven different t-shirts laying out in front of her. seven, and somehow she still can’t choose? on a normal day, she wouldn’t even have cared so much to pick out 7 options.

but the media day for the first race of her debut season can’t just be any day. the only glimpse the public had of her officially since she joined with ferrari was the livery reveal, where she got to don the signature red racing suit for the first time. and surely she’s overthinking it, but this outfit has to be curated perfectly to set the first impression. not trying too hard, like the dress she just discarded onto the floor, but not just showing up in a team kit and calling it a day.

she looks through her options one more time, willing herself to just choose one, before being snapped back into reality by the knocking at her hotel door. maybe she lost track of time and housecleaning was waiting for her to get out.

“give me a minute, sorry!”

“yeah, no worries, take your time.” the brit behind the door calls back.

freezing for a moment, red looks back at the door and inhales. of all the times for her teammate, a 7 time world champion, to visit her, this has to be one of the most inconvenient.

scrambling to the door and almost stumbling on the suitcase she forgot she put there, she opens the door with probably what seems to be an unnaturally big smile, trying to block lewis’s view of the room which has clothes thrown everywhere and makeup covering the tables. “lewis, hi, didn’t expect you to be here.”

“yeah, just thought i’d check in before we’re in the paddock. the first day tends to be stressful from what i remember.” if he noticed anything amiss, he didn’t give any sign of it, just smiling back with his hands in the pockets of his well-styled media day outfit.

she let herself relax. “thank you, i really appreciate it. just a bit nervous, as one would expect, but i’m excited. probably one of the biggest days of my life.”

“yeah, mate, i can imagine. don’t stress too much, alright? i’m sure you’ll do great. see you out there.”

“thanks, i’ll try not to. see you there.”

“and for the first time in quite a long long time, we have a female racer here to race with ferrari, as well as the first indian one to do so. what’s your input, karun? you seem to be pretty excited about this one.”

“i really am, crofty. it’s nice to see a woman competing at the top level of motorsport, but it’s also amazing to see it’s a woman of color. representation is important in this sport, of course, and she looks promising. ferrari chose a great line up, all things considered with the surprises from last year.”

“surprises indeed! to see the former ferrari golden boy now driving a red bull is quite jarring, to be honest. i suppose 2025 is the year for surprises.”

“and one of our most anticipated rookies this year, here we have red, who will be joining ferrari this year and teaming with 7 time world champion lewis hamilton. red, how are you feeling about the weekend ahead?” the reporter handed a microphone to red, who smiled nervously.

“well, obviously nervous but quite excited as well, as i’m sure the other rookies around will also tell you. if i’m being honest, it still feels like a dream,” she laughed, shaking her head. “it’s an unbelievable amount of support that i’ve gotten, and i appreciate all of it. can’t wait to prove myself this season.”

“and there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, ferrari’s new driver for 2025,” the reporter turned back to the camera and smiled. “many exciting things coming up this season, and i’m sure we’ll all be tuned in for every bit of the action. i can tell this one will be a good one.”

tag list: @sid-is-gr8 @mellowarcadefun @justadesirebel @foreveralbon

[saintescuderia]

STOMACHING YOU // MV33

(a pancakes oneshot!)

AKA - max comes to you after winning abu dhabi 2021 and becoming a world champion

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: hello! welcome to another oneshot part of the pancakes!universe. and of course i would choose such a controversial moment to write about. please remember creative liberties in fiction. we love max and lewis equally (oscar's chandler bing level sarcasm is the real goat here c'mon)

TW: emetophobia

(unedited.)

You were mopping up vomit. 

For some reason, it was this pile of vomit that occupied your thoughts. Who had done it? When had they had done it? It was in between the Mercedes and Red Bull motorhome so it could’ve been either. Team members throwing up from the sheer nerves wasn’t something new to you. But today, tonight, after everything... it really could’ve been from anything. Both teams had gone through it tonight. Everyone had gone through it tonight. The vomit before you could’ve very well had been come out of you from everything you had witnessed. 

The nausea you had felt hadn't let up since last night. Last night when Domenicali had specifically requested you to work the bar and you had served all the rich, white men drinks who laughed jovially as Free Practice spun past and you anxiously snuck glances on the Red Bull with the Black T-Cam. Number 33. Verstappen. Max. Your old driver.

He was so close to getting what the two of you had dreamed about for so long.

You really had wanted Max to win. Of course you did. He had been your driver since entering F1. He was your driver and, honestly, there was a part of you that was always going to be reserved for him.

It wasn't the same thing with that you had for Charles - that was something entirely different. But Max was the first and only driver that you had officially trained, that you had gone through all the F1 bullshit with.

Whereas Charles was perfectly media trained, Max always blamed (or credited) his shit-talking to, well, you.

Lewis was a brilliant driver, and with one of the kindest souls to match. Despite everything with F1, the man had survived the brutal ruthlessness of the sport and hadn't let the money or fame corrupt him. You had a lot of respect for him.

But it was undeniable that you wanted one for Max. Lewis had seven already. Can’t we just let Max have one?

Apparently, some big oil rich guy with ties to the FIA shared a similar thought.

Well, for different reasons. 

“Ta.” Said big oil rich guy said, barely glancing at you as set his espresso martini down at the table. Domenicali gave you an appreciative smile before returning his attention to the man who kept going on. You gathered the empty glasses and turned around to walk back the bar as the man kept talking.

“No, look Stefano. Don’t call me racist. Don’t. But Lewis is… we need a knew face for F1. Do you know what it looks like when I go back home and there’s one of… you know, like Max is…”

You almost vomited. 

It wasn't like this was new to you. It wasn't. However, the man being so open about it had you counting how many drinks However, considering the two glasses in your hand, the man was well buzzed enough for his drunk words to reflect the sober thoughts.

From behind the bar, you kept your head down, staring at the Jordan Fours the donned your feet. The Black Cats had been a gift from Max way back when and you had wearing them all weekend for him.

“Everyone is getting bored of Hamilton winning. Put Max’s face. The white hope for Formula !”

Your hand froze. You couldn't help it. Your head shot up to look at the fucking scum that had just said that.

Formula 1 had been a lot of things. Sexist - downright fucking misogynist. Your time as a trainer had a lot of men down playing your skills and work. The added part of your appearance being 'exotic' and 'foreign' only compounded this.

Suffice to say, you also respected Lewis a lot for him being the sole black man on the grid.

So to hear this. Now. In 2021. To hear such blatant fucking racism made your fist curl so much that the stem of the martini glass snapped.

Domenicali noticed. He met your eyes - his petrol friend distracted by the sounds outside - and he gave you a troubled look.  

It wasn’t the first time you had heard something troubling. It wasn’t like Domenicali hadn’t ever quietly sidled up to you before with a special NDA in hand and the following month’s payslip to have some special bonus. 

But this… this was… this was too much.

Your barely registered the blood dripping down from your palm as you threw the towel on the bar and stalked to the door. You passed another worker on your way who called out your name. You barely paid them any attention. Sure, VIP sector of the Experiences lounge held certain expectations - you couldn't exactly just leave.

But you also knew Stefano wouldn't say anything. Not after that. And if anyone else would have a problem with you leaving, you would just tell them to go talk to Domenicali themselves. There would be no way he would penalise you for that. Not when he was likely thinking right now about what 'bonus' he could give you to compensate for what you'd just heard.

You didn't realise you had gone into the bathroom until you were met the stalls. Apparently your body was working on its own accord since the neural pathways weren't registering the nausea that was going through you. Your legs moved to the stalls. You found yourself kneeling. You found bile rising. You found the protein pancakes from this morning exiting into the toilet bowl in front of you.

Now, a few hours later, Michael Masi had made a call, your right hand was wrapped in bandages, Max had won his World Championship and you were mopping up vomit.

Normally, you would've changed your shoes. Now, you couldn't find yourself to care. The Black Cats had suffered a few scuffs here and there and looking down at them, you couldn't find yourself to even care. Looking down at them, you thought about Max and started to cry.

He had won. The internet had broken. Toto Wolff’s calls to Masi still resounded in your ears. Christian Horner’s tears of joy still flashed in your mind. The TV had caught Lewis crying and his father comforting him. The TV had caught Jos congratulating Max. 

You knew all too well that had the outcome been reversed, Anthony would be celebrating like it was Lewis’ first Championship - but Jos would have no sense to even speak to his disappointment of a son!

If anything, you were just glad Max had won so that there would be no worrying tonight about what hidden scars his father would cause him. More than anything, you hated the fact that you were no longer able to protect Max like before. Drama aside, it broke your heart.

But your heart broke today for a different reason. Because even though Max would be okay... you were so fucking disappointed.

You saw - everyone fucking saw - Lewis still make an effort to celebrate on the podium. You saw how Anthony Hamilton still went to shake the hands of Jos, of Christian, of Max. 

And Max almost didn’t fucking shake Anthony's hand.

And that, you took on yourself. You honestly thought you had taught him better than that.

Someone called out your name. You blinked. A quick wipe of your eyes and you schooled your face to greet the wide grin set on the face of one very elated Max Verstappen who was still dressed in his race suit standing before you.

“There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!"

"Why?"

"Why? What do you mean why? Because I'm a fucking World Champion!" He said like it was the most obvious thing. You looked around and frowned. You checked your watch. Enough time had passed that he would be done in the cool down room. That meant you probably should go there and finish mopping.

So you sighed and made a move on to finish with mopping this up so you could get to the driver's room. Your lack of reaction and going back to mopping clearly stumped the driver - no, World Champion, in front of you.

"You -- what are you doing?” Max said, completely taken aback.

“Mopping up vomit.”

"Get someone else to do this shit."

"This is my job now, Max." You said and looked up at him with a stern look that made Max's smile falter a little bit.

"Can't you get someone else to do it?" He asked, taking the cap off to run a hand through his blond hair. "I'm-- We won."

"You won." You corrected. "I'm no longer affiliated with Red Bull."

"But I..." He stopped and closed his eyes. He huffed and you could tell that he was trying to sort through his frustrations. You had coached him one too many times about using his big boy words and actually talk about his feelings. Since, of course, Jos did fuck all to help Max learn to talk about emotional needs.

"I want to celebrate with you. It's important that I celebrate with you." Max said, eyes still closed.

"You and I both know that's not going to happen. Your mother has a restraining order against me and your father's mood is going to be dampened seeing me." You said. Max's eyes opened and you hated how the joy dimmed.

"But... I'm a World Champion." He said, sounding like a kid again. A defeated kid.

“You’re still Max Verstappen.” You said, the emphasis. The emphasis served to remind him that, World Champion or not, he was still Verstappen. As in the son of the very man who loathed your guts. 

The emphasis also, you hoped was to remind him he was still a person, still Max Verstappen.

You wouldn’t let him lose himself like, arguably, Daniel had in the tempting champagne glory that comes with winning in Formula 1. 

And it was that thought that reminded you of the sad fury of disappointment you had been sorting through before he'd surprised you.

"Are you at least going to congratulate me?” Max asked. "I just became a World Champion finally. Everything we always said and you're mopping up fucking vomit!"

You stopped and looked up at him. You thought carefully of your next words. Taking a breath, you spoke.

"Did you shake Lewis' hand?"

"What?"

"Did you shake Lewis' hand?" You repeated.

"Why the fuck would that—"

"Sportsmanship, Max." You interrupted him and then went back to mopping. "That’s why. Sportsmanship."

This set him off. "Are you serious right now?" He called your name out and when you continued mopping, he came round and pulled the mop away from you. You stepped back and he stepped forward and suddenly both of you had your shoes - his racing shoes and your Jordan 4s - were now in it. "I did it. i finally did it. I proved them all wrong. Everyone said it wasn't going to happen. The commentators. The journalists. Even Christian had his doubts. But I fucking won. I did it. Jos -- Jos said he was proud of me!"

You fought to keep your voice calm and level. "So why are you here? Do you want me to say that I'm proud of you as well?"

Max didn't speak, but continued to breathe heavily. His pride and his anger wouldn't let him say yes.

"I thought you would be happy! We worked so hard for this. And I'm not so fucking arrogant to admit that I did it because of you. And here you are talking about Lewis hand?"

"Yes. Because I'm not taking credit for tonight. Not one single fucking bit of it." Max blinked, your voice starting to raise as you finally got to it. "You say you're not arrogant enough to want to celebrate with me. A nice shout out to the Hospitality worker who gave you the fucking seat and trained you to where you are now. But you know what? I would rather mop up this shit that pretend that I am happy about what happened."

"You're not happy for me?"

"I'm not happy at myself Max." You said, losing anger and heavy a tired sigh, finally looking up at the sky. It was dark but you couldn't see any stars. The light pollution from a night race was always so ridiculous. Suffocating almost.

"Why?"

"Because I thought I had taught you better than that." You said, finally bringing your eyes down to look at him. "You watched the cooldown, Max. You saw what happened."

"Yeah? And?"

"And?" You mimicked him. "I — if I had been up there with you guys tonight, what do you think the first thing I would do?" He remained silent. His shoulders gave a minuscule shrug. "I would shake Lewis' hand. Max. And I would slap you on the back of your neck and make sure you did the same fucking thing. Just like Anthony."

"Are you serious not going to congratulate me not shaking Lewis’ hand?"

"I'm sorry, and you're saying you're not arrogant?" Your eyes narrowed. "Clearly you're not getting it Max so let me be blunt. I would rather be mopping up this fucking vomit right now than stand beside whatever the fuck that was. I don’t mean to rain on your parade here, believe me, this goes beyond you. But the least you could’ve done was shake Lewis hand and prove them wrong!"

"Them?" Max frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Max." You pinched the bridge of your nose "I work in Hospitality. I serve the rich white man. I hear a lot of shit."

It took Max a second. You looked at him and watched his face continue to look at you confusedly until the understanding set in his widening eyes.

"Are you saying..."

"I'm not saying anything." You said with a grim smile. He immediately understood. NDAs were dished out on the daily around here.

You set the broom down and turned to fully face him. You put your hands on his shoulders and stared him dead in the eye. Given his height advantage, you leaned on your tip toes to be able to reach up and press a kiss to his forehead. Coming down, you saw his eyes shine and you gave him a soft smile.

"Maximilian, my brother, I love you. And I am happy for you. But when you're up, don't forget what it was like when you were down. Hold onto that, actually. It'll mean you won't lose yourself and be there for those that will always be down."

And with that, you turned around and went back to mopping.

Max stood there, unable to say or do anything. He was too overwhelmed with emotion. This... more than winning a Championship... this he felt more. He couldn't put this in words. This hurt. But in a good way. It... He felt... He just felt.

Max vaguely heard his name being called and hands pulling at him. Red Bull engineers talking about partying. You kept mopping. Head down, arms moving forward and back and you went about your manual labour task while expensive Champagne was flowing over him once more.

"Where do you want to go? Winner's choice!"

He knew exactly where he wanted to go. What he wanted - what he needed to.

-

Despite winning a Championship, Max Verstappen was still getting an earful from Jos. 

"Why the fuck did you go and shake his hand? And with all those cameras around? Do you know how that looks? He lost. You won. You don’t need to surround yourself with losers. No - fucking - pity. No mercy! Max! Why do you insist on being weak? I raised you better than this!"

Maybe that had been the problem. HIs methods of raising him.

His father’s tirade went to background music as he felt his phone buzz. He still had your contact details saved as before. 

tessio’s wings 💪💪💪

i’m proud of you

Max smiled to himself. It was funny how his father had finally said those words - had finally said he was proud of him - and they were hollow to him. How long had Max longed for Jos to finally say them and when he finally did... Max realised he didn't need them. He didn't want them. What he wanted was you again. To see you smile at him and tell him good job. To show him the love that he hadn't felt for most of his life. He had missed that.

taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3 @hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams @itsjustkhaos @sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19 @formula1mount @bokutos-babyowl @stampiej @alilcloudy @bingussthirdtoe @sisinever @lilymurphy03 @inlovewmarlenemckinnon @charllleclerc

[paddockbunny]

Pinky Promise

Summary : Lewis takes Singer!Reader out on a Hot Lap. Rating : 16+ mostly but moments of 18+ Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Singer!Reader Word Count : 1,738 words ONE SHOT Trigger Warnings : Mostly fluffy with a slight undercurrent of NSFW, nothing major triggering, maybe implied age gap but adults anyway Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note : ok ok, Sabrina Carpenter is the face claim I have had in mind while writing this. I feel she really suits the story and Lew tbh. Slight references to Juno, Bed Chem & Espresso but not directly so if you want to imagine someone else feel free 😉

Watching some fast cars, drinking a little champagne and having a nice weekend in the gorgeous South of France sunshine was all she expected when she had been invited to experience the famous Monaco Grand Prix. What she hadn’t expected was to find herself getting fitted for a helmet and told she was going around the track on what was called a “Hot Lap” with one of the F1 drivers. No, that was not on her bingo card, AT ALL!

She stood faking a smile as the chin strap was fitted under her chin. Trying hard not to show how terrified she was and make herself look immature and childish.

“So how fast exactly is this going to be?” It was an honest question so the fact a few of the PR people from different brands affiliated with the organisation let out little giggles and stifled laughs. “Well, that depends on the driver not really the car.” The older gentleman who was helping her smiled and tried to calm any nerves. “Who is the driver then?” She turned on the charm so she didn’t seem like some ditzy dumb blonde who knew absolutely nothing. Especially seeing as a camera was on her and she was being recorded.

“Uh, that would be me.” A man’s soft, calm voice came from behind her and she couldn’t help but spin around. She knew him. It would be hard not too. He was synonymous with the sport and even if she did sort of know little, she knew who Lewis fucking Hamilton was.

His hand went out and she was taken by how handsome he was in real life. He had perfect skin, perfect teeth and eyes that were so welcoming and inviting. “Lewis.” He introduced himself - as if he needed an introduction - and she slipped her small little hand into his and replied with her own name.

“I’m so nervous.” She admitted immediately but let a broad smile spread across her face. “Don’t be, I’ll keep you safe.” He winked and she had no idea if he was turning on the charm for the camera or if he was just such a genuine, nice person. When his hand ran down her arm in a comforting manner she knew it was the later. Definitely the later.

The same older man that had wrangled her (and her mass of curled coifed hair) into the black helmet she was now donning gave her some little safety instructions (“just in case”) and set her up inside of the very expensive, very fast looking sports car. She wondered in that moment if she should have asked for a loan of a t-shirt or something that at least covered her up more than the outfit that she was clad in. The scrap of barely there fabric that apparently constituted as a top was a poor choice for keeping any of her assets in place if things got wild and Lewis decided to throw her round as if the car were a rollercoaster. She pulled her little leather jacket around a bit more before the seatbelt was going around her. God, what had she gotten herself into.

“Have you ever done anything like this before?” Was Lewis’ first words to her when he jumped into the car beside her. No, she hadn’t, she never thought she ever would either. She was a safe non risk type. She had never been particularly sporty in her younger years and the thought of doing something so crazy as drive a car at top speed was insanity to her. The whole time she was getting “geared up” she wondered why her PR & PA had agreed to do this in the first place.

She shook her head as a no.

“A little scared?” He asked and she nodded “I don’t know what I have gotten myself into.” Shakily a laugh escaped her and it was met from Lewis with a broad smile. He talked to her, distracting her, as he started the engine. He explained some of the corners they were going to take and what to do with her head and neck. He said he would be “flat out” on the straights and to go with the movement of the car as he braked. He revved the engine a few times and told her to just enjoy herself.

“Easier said than done.” The quip back came quickly but both of them chuckled at it so she did manage to relax, even if it was only a teeny tiny little bit.

“Just remember to breathe.” Lewis added before he got a thumbs up from a guy with headphones on and a clipboard who was standing relatively close to the front of the car. “Wait.” Her hand darted out and grabbed his arm, his skin smooth and velvety under her fingertips.

“Pinky promise you’ll not go too fast” she held her pinky up and Lewis let out a loud, roar of laughter and she couldn’t help but admire how down right gorgeous he really was. The way the corners of his eyes wrinkled as he grinned. That little gap between his front teeth that would have been a bit dorky on someone else but was sort of alluring on him. He was truly a handsome man. His own pinky looped and linked around hers and he nodded dynamically but one thing Lewis didn’t know was how to go slow. He didn’t do slow. He never did slow.

Lewis tried to focus as hard as he could on the driving. He tried not to pay too much mind to the beautiful - no drop dead fucking gorgeous - woman sitting inches from him giggling and letting out excitable squeals whenever he increased in acceleration or cornered. But his attempts where overwhelmingly futile. He kept catching a glimpse of her perfect bare legs and taught stomach and he could feel his mouth salivating. From their brief interaction moments before getting into the car to the pinky promise they had made just before they set off, Lewis couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking hot she was. He knew of her before but not very well - pop wasn’t exactly his choice of music - and he wondered why the hell not? Even if it were for the fact she was one of the most exquisite women he had ever laid eyes on. Now he knew why all of the guys back in the garage (and some of the other drivers) were jealous of him getting to drive her around the famous street circuit. He would indeed be jealous if this hot lap had been granted to someone like Charles or worse, Lando!

“Oh my God!” She exhaled deeply with pure excited adrenaline coursing through her veins. The thrill, the buzz, the kick all roared wildly throughout her entire being. Her heart was pounding and her legs were shaking from pure exhilaration.

“Lew!” She gasped as he slowed the car right down and brought it into what she had come to learn was the Pit Lane. “That was…” better than sex was what she was going to say but remembered she was being filmed and that would have set the rumour mill into overdrive so she just shook her head.

“You’re amazing.” She grabbed his arm after he turned the engine off and he was beaming from ear to ear at hearing her so stimulated by the lap. And as if there was some manifested universe shit going on they both looked at each other and felt something there. Something that wasn’t just because of the rush of driving around a track with undoubtably the best driver in the world.

Lewis hadn’t stopped thinking about her all weekend. In particular he couldn’t stop thinking of the same one mental screenshot he took. Her smiling, breathless, panting with hair messy after stepping out of the car and he wondered if that was how she looked after she orgasmed. The feeling of her press her body against his in an encompassing hug as a thank you for giving her the “ride of her life” (her own words), almost made him loose his mind so he tried desperately to ignore that one. In fact, Lewis thought about the long tresses over her face and those big pouty parted lips as he strolled into the paddock on the Sunday morning with his headphones on listening to her latest album.

It wasn’t what he was expecting when he heard she was a pocket sized pop princess. The rhythms were smooth, sensual even, and the lyrics? OH BOY! They would put some of his own past efforts to shame. Lewis had to try hard to keep himself from looking visibly scandalously shocked. She didn’t seem the type to write song about how horny she was and instructions on how she likes it. But he liked it, no, he loved it. He could totally understand why she was a sensation and why everyone was jealous of his one on one car time with her.

Suited up and ready to head out for the national anthem, Lewis was in the zone as he made his way through toward the garage. His headphones still firmly on his head, her voice lulling away in his ear singing about how sweet she tastes. He hadn’t expected to glance over to the area behind Toto and see her there, standing looking like a fucking goddess. She raised her hand and waved at him like so many others did but he only could focus on her. He was down bad for her and he only met her a few days ago. God, he was never like this. No girl ever has heart race that quickly before when he hadn’t even gotten to know them. So he knew what he needed to do. He turned to whoever it was helping him out that afternoon and without hesitation mentioned her name and followed it with;

“Can you please invite her to dinner tonight?” “Sure. I’ll need to check it’s cool to add another place”

“No, no, not team dinner. Just her and I.” He replied and the dude raised his eyebrows at first but smiled broadly.

“Yeah, Mate. I don’t blame you.” He winked and Lewis let out a long sigh. The very one he had been holding from the moment he made that pinky promise right before the Hot Lap that will be forever ingrained in his mind.

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Moon

summary: everybody had had secrets. some more than others. and it'd been time for those secrets to be unearthed. too bad for Xavier he hadn't been privy to any of them.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smutty smut smut. mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER MOON pt.12

Aurora didn't know what she was doing. Read: She knew what she was doing, but hated herself a little for it and kept repeating in her head that she was going crazy. Nothing was wrong. It was a reaction to discovering Dave wasn't who she'd thought he was and now her brain had a hard time deciphering who was friend and who was foe.

Totally rational.

Despite how often she told herself this was confirmation bias or a side-effect of her paranoia, she couldn't shake the feeling that Austin Baxter was hiding something. How the hell had he known the missing ingredient in her tea?

That she'd detected a subtle change in his scent had unnerved her to the point where she'd decided she needed to investigate. Something Aurora was not prone to doing. She had little interest in intrigue, had avoided Nancy Drew when she'd been younger, even though her friends had cooed over the books and had roped her into solving mysteries on the playground.

And yet...there she was. Donning her metaphorical deer-stalker cap, driving Andrew's car at a (hopefully) safe distance from Austin's cruiser after sundown. Around another corner, deeper into the warehouse district.

She passed the cruiser as it turned into an abandoned factory parking lot, pulling up down the street to stay out of sight. This was the stupidest thing she'd ever done. Seriously. Apart from marrying Dave, obviously, though things about that continued to bother her. Her intuition screamed at her, but it'd been so long since she'd really tapped into it that the message wasn't yet clear.

God dammit.

"Whaaat~ the hell am I doing?"

She ducked out of the car, as low as she could make herself without getting on her hands and knees, and dashed across the barren stretch of unkempt tar after Austin.

Wearing Andrew's Black Sabbath sweater and a pair of black leggings, she hoped she blended into the shadows well enough to not be noticed.

Seriously, what was she doing? She questioned herself again as she ducked and peeked around the corner of the building.

The building was dark inside and out, illuminated only by haphazardly installed emergency lighting, yet Austin didn't seem deterred. He disappeared through a side door that Aurora opened a crack and slipped through after counting to ten. Figured that was enough time for Austin to put distance between himself and the door because her only knowledge of pursuing someone secretly was what she'd seen in movies.

As soon as she was inside, it hit her like a train. She felt it. Felt them.

The cold air that displaced and resettled as bodies she couldn't see moved about. That icy chill and sense of desolation that clung to earthbound ghosts no matter their temperament. Only the emotion that lingered was more potent. Denser, somehow. The way she remembered it being whenever she'd felt Janet Hamilton or Rhonda Rosen back in high school.

Established.

And, fuck, there were so much of it.

She heard footsteps echo further down the corridor and, as silently as she could, she crept after the sound into a large, open space filled with machines that had been used to produce ammunition during the Second World War.

Unlike the factory that had been demolished and replaced with the high school, the one Aurora currently stood in had simply been shut down due to a deteriorating economy. Despite America's fascination with guns, the town wasn't producing enough to merit staying open.

It'd been cheaper to move production away from Split River. The one functioning factory that remained was owned by Molson Coors Beverage Company, and even then, there'd been talk about relocating to another town closer to Milwaukee.

None of that explained why she felt about to two dozen ghosts haunting the space. Had they died homeless, escaping the winter? Frozen to death one night or one at a time? Perhaps that's why Austin was there, to do a walk-through and ensure there weren't any unwanted squatters. Or perhaps there'd been a sighting of Dave in the area.

No, her gut told her, that wasn't right. She didn't know what the answer was, but she trusted herself to know that wasn't it.

She peered around a machine and watched Austin trail down an aisle between conveyors, his head swiveling from side to side as if he was looking for something. Or at something, Aurora's mind quipped since, in the silence of the large space, his whispers were loud enough for her to hear. He was counting.

"...Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen..."

What the hell?

She wanted to slink further down the same aisle, however, in that moment, she heard Austin's footsteps double back.

Aurora made herself scarce, raced back to her car as quickly and quietly as she could. Slid behind the wheel and dropped her seat back until the cruiser had driven by. Readjusting her seat, Aurora decided, fuck it, she was already playing P.I., why not keeping going.

"What could possibly go wrong?" She murmured incredulously to herself, giving the factory one last glance before she started her car and drove after Austin.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

After long seconds staring at the photograph of the class of '60, you breathed deeply and said, "There's a ledger. Only Ginny has access to it, but if I can find it, I can compare the names from the yearbook to the names under our Circle."

"What for?" Ajay asked as he folded his arms and leaned his shoulder against the wall, peered at you through an expression that conveyed how nervous he was to let you out of his sight now that things were progressing.

You pulled your gaze from the photograph to look at him, "Anyone with connectedness is registered with a Circle. Even if you actively try to avoid it, your name will show up in the relevant ledger, complete with the bloodline, and I swear to God, if you call it magic, Ajay—" You warned when his face did that thing that suggested he was about to call you out on it again.

He pressed his lips together and locked them with an invisible key.

Wally tightened his embrace around you, stating, "So, you think it was Anabelle and Amelia."

"Wouldn't more students have had to die if they did the ritual?" Charley asked, "There was only Janet and Mr. Martin. Plus the two students they stole the bodies from. That's four. And they didn't even use Janet and Mr. Martin." He glanced between everyone, trying to gauge whether anyone else was as lost as he was.

"Maybe they changed the ritual." You murmured, deep in thought, before you took a grounding breath.

It didn't feel right in your bones. You didn't have enough information on the subject, but even you knew that a forbidden ritual like the one Amelia and Anabelle used was precise for a reason.

Which meant there'd been things in the school no one had reported on. Or known about. Like the fallout shelter. Like the symbols with their weird extra lines, added later than their original notes.

You thought about it for a moment before sharing, "What if the symbols aren't just trapping you here?"

You cast about, tilted sideways in Wally's arms to look up at him and then to Ajay and Charley.

"What if they also siphon energy from somewhere else?"

"You mean, like the farmhouse?" Wally wondered, eyes narrowed as he tried to keep up with you. "It would explain why Aiden and the others are trapped there."

"Because the Something-Something needs a reason..." Charley murmured under his breath, all sass and disbelief.

"No, but that's the thing," You reasoned, "They do. Why bother trapping ghosts unless you're going to use them? There's no reason."

Ajay shifted, head down, features pinched, "You think they're going to use us to glue them into their new bodies?"

"I think it's worth thinking about." You said, suddenly feeling deeply anxious. "Wally and I read about the Christmas Eve colony. Seventy people died. Then seventy more people died in 1949."

"That's a really long time to wait to perform a ritual." Charley commented, "They would've been hundreds of years old, no?"

"Not necessarily. They could've been performing rituals the whole time. Like at the farmhouse. Seventy more people died, and it was never reported on, right?"

Wally nodded along, his grip tightening on your hip, "And they could've just been collecting..." He paused, swallowed, tensing behind you, "People like us...one at a time over years to eventually use." Wally looked down at you, "That's what you think?"

"I think so," You said regretfully. "And with the symbols at the farmhouse and here...there must be another place, because the number of dead people still doesn't equal seventy, but..."

"But." Ajay agreed.

Everyone sat with that for a moment, the atmosphere suddenly stifling. The ghosts especially looked perturbed, and you didn't know what to say to ease their minds.

"Alright. Let's assume the ghosts from the factory explosion—if there were any—weren't used to perform a ritual at that point." Ajay laid it out, "Amelia and Anabelle and Alastair—who they killed for some reason—would've been around forty by then, give or take."

You, Wally, and Charley nodded along.

"If Amelia and Anabelle were still using those bodies...they, what, took the opportunity while it presented itself to kill a bunch of people and trap their ghosts to use later? Is that possible?"

"I mean," Wally began, indicating to the school at large. "It's obviously not impossible."

"Not what I mean," Ajay corrected, looking at you, "I mean, does it matter if the seventy people sacrificed are alive or already dead."

You shrugged, totally helpless, because, "I don't know." You bowed your head, hating that you were so lost, "I need to get more info, and those books aren't easy to translate."

"There's literally no one you can ask?" Charley asked meekly. He seemed to know the answer, his expression as weary as yours.

"There's one person, but..." She was unconscious in a hospital room, you didn't add.

God, you needed Ginny to wake up. You were at that point of desperation that you'd risk bringing Ginny into the loop.

Of everyone, she'd know if there'd been an alarming number of ghosts trapped in any particular place around town, including the school.

Wally pressed you closer to him, kissed your hair, and assured you, "You'll figure it out, baby. And when you do, we'll get out of here and have nothing to worry about."

"Oh, we should go to the beach first." Charley smiled at Wally.

Wally shook his head, "Nah, first thing I'm doing is taking this beautiful thing—" Hand under your chin, he tilted your head back a fraction to kiss you quick and hard, "—somewhere with a massive bed. And room service."

You giggled and blushed at the same time Ajay snorted, "You're dead, bro, you can't get room service."

"Yeah, but she can," Wally grinned as he swept your hair back and stamped more kisses across your brow. "You guys could use the spa or use another suite or something. Then we'll take a trip to the beach."

"Who says we want to tag along on your sexcation?" Charley rolled his eyes, shared a conspiratorial look with Ajay, and then grinned at you with a friendly wink.

It was nice to change the subject, the tension bleeding from your body as you listened to the ghosts joke between each other.

"I want somewhere walkable," Ajay announced. "I want to walk for hours in one direction without being knocked back to Autoshop. Then Mina and I can find our own accommodations." He smirked at Wally. "But, honestly, I just want to touch a fucking tree. Be somewhere that doesn't smell like mildew and bleach."

"Yesss." Wally and Charley agreed in unison.

As much as you wanted to lose yourself in their good humor, you felt a sense of guilt about their circumstances. Circumstances you hoped you could resolve.

"I promise, guys," You said quietly, solemn, "I'll find a way to remove the barrier."

Wally gazed down at you with such faith, you almost cried.

"We know, babe." He said, conviction thick in his voice, "You've got this."

You tucked your head into his chest and nodded.

You had to got this. You weren't going to let some cult psychos use your boyfriend and his friends as a cosmic adhesive, not without a fight.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Wally was stunned silent when you and Ajay both admitted to having known about the fallout shelter before tonight.

After the conversation had returned to Mr. Martin and Janet, Ajay had suggested showing you, Wally, and Charley the shelter. That's when you'd confessed you, Maddie, and Simon had already stumbled upon it yourselves the night of the Homecoming Game.

"You didn't tell me?" Wally asked, that sense of being left out a lot more acute than he supposed it should be.

You weren't obligated to tell him every detail, after all. And, yeah, there were so many moving parts to the mystery machine these days that he couldn't blame you if you felt he didn't need to know, but still. It stung.

"It's not like that, Wally," You said, pulling him aside while Ajay and Charley went to wait in the hall and give you and him some privacy.

"No, nah, it's... I know." Wally tried to plaster on a smile, but he could tell you could tell it was fake. His eyes dropped to the floor.

"I mean it, I just forgot. I was..." You chewed the inside of your cheek, something he knew you did when you were about to say something you weren't sure was welcome. Eventually, you squared your shoulders, "A) I was distracted by my sexy boyfriend."

That made Wally feel a little better, a small yet smug smile curling his lips.

"And, b) I was way more concerned about telling you about Xavier kissing me. I totally forgot to mention following Dave and finding Maddie and Simon in the fallout shelter."

Which also sucked. Wally had tried to be a pillar of support for Maddie, especially since the theater, but she'd also kept Wally out of the loop. Deliberate or not, he had to wonder how much he was valued in this fight.

He felt your hand on his chest, your other one reaching for one of his. You stared up at him with sweet, pleading eyes, tone sincere when you insisted, "I swear, Wally, I wouldn't keep anything from you. Important, not important, doesn't matter. I would tell you if I found a creepy fallout shelter if I remember to."

"But you were distracted by Xavier kissing you," He said, somewhat bitter that that had been on your mind at all.

"I was distracted by you, and then I was nervous you were gonna get mad and kill my best friend."

"Jury's still out..." Wally muttered as he pulled you into a hug, his arms around your shoulders, chin hooked over your head. "I believe you, baby. It's just." He stopped, sighed, "I kinda feel like you and Simon and Maddie...fuck, even Xavier, are all working together and you only come and find me after something happens."

"That's not true, Wally," You said, and leaned back to look at him. "I'm so sorry I made you feel like that."

Wally nodded, pressed his brow to yours, "It just sucks sometimes, I guess. I can't leave and help you the way you need me to."

"Right now, all I need you to do is tell me you forgive me?" You said it like a question, clearly worried that Wally would hold it against you that you hadn't told him about the fallout shelter. Blame you as if you'd done it on purpose.

He studied you for a moment. Not because he wasn't going to forgive you, he already had, but because he wanted to take a moment to just soak you in. Things had been moving so fast since Maddie had arrived and the quiet seconds in between uncovering clues were few and far between.

He brought his free hand to your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek, and kissed you softly. Pulled back to say, "Yeah, pretty girl, I forgive you."

You beamed up at him. He felt you melt into his embrace, relieved and glad, and he smiled back affectionately. He kept his palm against your cheek, hummed when you turned your face into it to press a kiss to the skin, and then nuzzled into his touch as you gazed up at him.

"I love you," You said softly.

His heart about burst, "I love you, too, baby."

Ready to get a move on, he took your hand and led you out of the file room. You still held the '58 yearbook, determined to cross-reference the names from the class of '60 to the ones in that magical ledger you'd mentioned.

Wally was both impressed and turned on by your determination. He squeezed your hand, bit his lip as he stared at you, unable to tear his eyes away for a second to see Ajay and Charley make a face at each other over how soft Wally was with you.

Breaking the fuzzy silence, Ajay asked, "Should we get Rhonda? She's part of Team Parabnormal. She might wanna help."

It was Charley who answered with glum disposition, "She wasn't interested when I asked her earlier," his shoulders raised and eyes on the ground. He didn't say anything more, but Wally could tell he wanted to.

"Is something wrong?" You wondered, glancing between Ajay and Charley for answers.

"She's been kissing Mr. Martin's ass lately," Wally explained. "It's weird, babe, she's never cared much about what the guy has to say, and suddenly she wants to do everything he says."

"She's trying to move on," Charley said quietly, falling into step beside you and Wally. "I can't blame her."

"Me neither," Ajay agreed with a long exhale through his nose. "If I could, I would've been out of here the second I died." He peered over his shoulder at you, "Just to avoid being used as a battery for someone's forbidden ritual."

You didn't respond. What was there to say? Wally knew you felt some odd responsibility for the ghosts and the barrier and bringing Maddie's body back. Even though none of it had been your doing, ever since the theater, you'd been throwing yourself into the game like you had to make up for something.

Wally released your hand just to wrap his arm around your waist.

"Baby, you're going to figure it out," He repeated his earlier sentiment. Stood by it because he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you would.

It seemed everyone was in agreement, Ajay in particular.

"Does Mr. Martin know anything about how Dawn ascended?" You asked, leaning into Wally.

Charley's lips twisted as he thought about how to answer that.

Finally, Wally took over, "I think he's as lost as we are. He freaked out when we brought it up."

"Doesn't like not having all the answers." Charley speculated, low and uncomfortable. "I never noticed that before, you know? How he always had to be the one to figure things out for us."

Silence followed, everyone taking their time to process. Charley and Wally in particular, since they'd witnessed Mr. Martin's uncharacteristic display of emotion in Group earlier.

"Someone's coming," Charley announced, and before you had a chance to react, Wally pulled you into the space between two rows of lockers on either side of a classroom door. Held you against the door and looked over his shoulder to wink at Charley and Ajay as they continued down the hall to steer the person in another direction using their ghostly energy.

A short lull, and then, "Are you still pissed at Zav?" you asked.

Wally thought about it seriously. "Yeah. I am. I can't fucking stand the guy." He tilted back to look you in the eye, "But I know you love him, baby. I'm trying not to hate on him too much."

He really was trying. Hard. And it was a lot more difficult than he'd been prepared for. As much as he was grateful Xavier had heeded Wally's warning to keep you safe at the farmhouse, it still made his blood boil when he thought of Xavier kissing you.

More when he thought of the shit Xavier had done to Maddie with Claire. Xavier wasn't a good guy, his actions speaking volumes you were deaf to, and yet, Wally willed himself to give Xavier a chance.

You'd attempted to explain Xavier's behavior away, that's not who he is. Wally knew the bond you and Xavier had transcended all that earthly shit, but, come on, at some point you had to admit being an asshole was being an asshole, no matter what reason.

Defeated, "I'm not asking you to be his friend," you said, "Just to suspend belief and believe me when I say he's not a horrible person."

"And I'm trying, baby, I swear," Wally implored, lifting your face to hold your gaze with his, "And I'll keep trying. But you can't blame me for not liking him much."

You shrugged, "I guess not."

"All clear," Charley said, peeking around the corner of the lockers.

Ajay lingered at the end of the hall, holding the door to the staircase open. You, Wally, and Charley joined him, stepped through and down the stairs.

"What do you think we'll find in there?" Charley asked.

"There was some old computer-looking thing," You stated, and that sounded interesting. "Some canned food. A cot."

"There's been a fucking bed in this place the whole time?" Wally blurted before he realized what he was insinuating.

Ajay and Charley exchanged another look.

"What? It's a valid question!" He defended.

"There were other things, too," You giggled, "Like shelves of stuff. A desk. A creepy tunnel that leads somewhere Simon refused to let me explore."

Diplomatically, "I like Simon. See, babe, Simon is good people."

You snorted, but agreed, "Yes, Wally, Simon is good people. And so is Xavier."

Wally kept quiet.

"Uh oh," Charley sing-songed, "Do I detect trouble in paradise?"

Loping down the stairs a bit ahead of everyone, Ajay snorted.

"Xavier does have that effect on things, doesn't he?"

You came to a halt, glaring after Ajay, "Does everyone hate my best friend."

"I don't hate him," Ajay said, and it sounded remarkably honest. Either Ajay was a fantastic liar or he meant it, not that Wally could see how.

"Thank you," You raised and dropped your arms dramatically. "Someone gets it."

"Ah, ah, ah, I said I don't hate him. Not that I like him." Ajay amended and cackled at the expression on your face.

"I'm neutral. He just seems kinda spazzy," Charley shrugged indifferently. "And I retain the right to bitch about him if Maddie wants to."

You thought about it and then, "Yeah, that's fair."

"Can we talk about something productive?" Wally interrupted, tired of hearing Xavier's name thrown about. "What else should I expect in the freaky bunker?"

"What's freakier than the tunnel?" You asked as you walked through the first-floor door that Ajay held open.

"Okay, point," Wally reeled you in with an arm around your waist after Charley passed him, "Maybe I was thinking we could talk about the bed again." His lips against your ear, voice low and husky.

You blushed so pretty for him, "Wally!"

Up ahead, near the basement door, without looking back, Charley and Ajay yelled, "TMI!" to which Wally grinned like the cat who got the cream.

To you, "It's something to think about, baby. The bed in the greenhouse is gone. We need to strategize."

You laughed, beautiful and bright, "You have a one-track mind, Clark."

He gave you a charming wink, "When it comes to you? It's hard not to."

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Xavier hadn't intended to enter 4916 Quebec Street. It was meant to be a simple, relatively safe stakeout, just as he'd promised you.

Except that Nicole and Claire's bickering had driven Xavier to the edge. From the moment they'd crammed into his truck, it'd been nonstop. Catty jabs that hadn't quit until Xavier had lost his shit, made a speech that he was, yeah, a little proud of, and abandoned the girls for the peaceful refuge of a so very eerie house.

He was going to regret his decision, he just knew it.

Claire remained in the truck while Nicole boldly trailed behind him into the darkened house, muttering under her breath about fair-weather friends who shouldn't help if all they wanted was a redemption arc.

"So what if she does?" Xavier asked, turning on his flashlight as Nicole did hers.

"She can't make up for everything she didn't do for years." Nicole insisted, paused halfway through the front door. "Claire abandoned Maddie. And now she thinks she can swoop in and save the day? I don't trust her."

Xavier didn't agree. He believed in second chances and doing the right thing, even if it came a little late. After all, he was in the middle of his own redemption arc, wasn't he? It would be hypocritical of him to judge Claire when she was obviously trying to help.

"You trust me?" Xavier wondered, staring intently at the brightening orange thread between him and Nicole. The color had deepened recently, and while he didn't know exactly what that meant, he felt his connection to Nicole deepening along with it.

Her answer still surprised him, as did the conviction in her voice.

"Yeah. I do."

That. Felt really good to hear, actually. Xavier's chest swelled as he looked bashfully away. "Thanks."

They stepped further into the house, the wind whistling ominously through the cracks in the windows. This house was even creepier than the old farmhouse or the house on Lasher and 10th. There was an impression in the air that chilled Xavier to the bone. That same supernatural prickle he felt around the ghosts at school, only more persistent. He couldn't be sure, but it meant something.

Before he could announce that he had a really, really bad feeling about this, Nicole voiced the sentiment.

"I just wanna state for the record, this is basically my worst nightmare come true."

Xavier breathed deep and approached her, put a hand on her back in reassurance. "But I'm here," He said, "I got your back. Just look around and see if you can find anything." He continued at her lost expression, "Clothes, food. Stuff someone might have left if they were squatting here."

His leadership seemed to rouse her determination. They split up, Nicole doing a tour of the main floor while Xavier found the door to the basement. The chill thickened as he descended the stairs. God, he wished you were with him, but you'd told him in no uncertain terms that you intended to do research with Wally at the school.

Ugh. That guy.

Look, Xavier didn't despise Wally the way Wally seemed to despise him. A little afraid of Wally? Yeah. Yeah, he was man enough to admit that. But despise? No.

Xavier was honestly—really, truly—happy that you'd found your perfect person. Dead, sure, but Xavier could tell that you two had a cosmic bond that transcended life and death and all things between. A vibrant golden thread that tied you and Wally together that Xavier could've probably touched it was so solid.

So, he did his level best to be nice to Wally. For your sake.

He was jolted back into reality when he reached the bottom of the basement stairs, his hand lowering and taking the light with it.

"Holy shit," He gasped, eyes round as saucers, because standing right fucking there was a man who featured in a lot of your old family photos. He choked, "Dead Grandpa John."

A fucking semi-transparent hippie stood in the middle of the empty basement, smiling at Xavier like he'd missed him. Connecting Xavier to Dead Grandpa John was a flickering green thread, bright though in and out like bad reception.

"Xavier," Dead Grandpa John greeted, expression serene and eyes sparkling. "Always a troublemaker. Finding yourself in places you shouldn't be." He raised an amused brow.

Xavier dropped his eyes to the ground. He felt like a little kid again, chastised and called out. Then, it occurred to him:

"Am I allowed to talk to you?"

Dead Grandpa John cocked his head and studied Xavier, "You already are."

"You know what I mean." Xavier's eyes narrowed.

"Yes, Xavier. You're welcome to speak to me." And then, kindly, "It's good to see you as you're meant to be." Like that made sense.

"What?"

Dead Grandpa John's face fell, "I wish I could say."

He began to shift closer. Unlike the ghosts at school, he glided like water over rocks in a stream, though his feet did, in fact, move. One and then the other; heel-toe, heel-toe. It seemed a little forced, as if Dead Grandpa John was practicing the movement, but it got him where he wanted to go.

Which was standing directly in front of Xavier, his gentle smile making Xavier relax.

"You saw Simon in the woods last night," Xavier found himself saying. "He said you talked to him about...spiders?"

"Not spiders," Dead Grandpa John looked regretful, and he repeated, "I wish I could say."

"Alright, what if I do the talking? You nod or shake your head and—"

"There's no time," Dead Grandpa John interrupted, eyes so sad Xavier wanted to hug him. "I'm sorry for what has to happen, Xavier."

Now on edge, "What does that mean?"

"It means," Dead Grandpa John placed a hand on Xavier's shoulder. Not quite there, but there enough for Xavier to feel his own body heat transferring into Dead Grandpa John's cold palm, "That this is going to hurt."

The next thing Xavier was conscious of, he was flat on his back. The ground was cold and everything hurt, his head especially throbbed. He heard the screech of tires against pavement, Nicole and Claire shouting, the noise distant as the world slowly faded to black.

💀___________________________

PART ELEVEN - PART THIRTEEN

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[smoothoper44tor]

Enemies on the papers, lovers in the shadows

(🔖) Pairing: Jenson Button x male reader

Face claim: Andy Samberg

(🔖) Summary: The McLaren boys go from enemies to lovers during the 2010 season. Apparently, they just needed to blow some steam of.

(🔖) Warnings: use of bad words, degradation, internalised homophobia (kinda), free homophobia f1, suggestive, mentions of hate sex.

masterlist | part two…

27 November 2009 . . .

NEWS

Jenson Button on joining fellowship driver Paolo Primo in McLaren for the next 2010 season.

Both drivers had a very intense rivalry this season, having a very close fight for the championship. Primo failed in winning the championship by 32 points. He assured unfair penalisation, which was, according to him once again, Button’s fault, made him lose.

Button and Primo made several displays of hate between each other during press conferences and interviews. Still, Button is “very intrigued in what will this new season bring him”, and alleges he “couldn’t be more happy to be teammates with Paolo [Primo], I love that guy”

More info • you might also like . . .

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26 March 2010 . . .

NEWS

Paolo Primo and alleged girlfriend, Joanna Newsom, arriving the Paddock (Melbourne, Australia)

Primo arrived this morning for the first practice along his alleged girlfriend. He hasn’t confirmed being in a relationship, yet they have being seen together in several occasions, being one the Bahrain Grand Prix last week.

He was asked about relationship with teammate Jenson Button after crash in the Bahrain GP, Button was able to keep driving, finishing 7th, but Primo ended DNFing due to damage from the crash. He dismissed the question instantly: “Childs can only act like childs” he said.

Paolo and Jenson were seen having an argument. He was later seen with Lewis Hamilton and Robert Kubica, Renault drivers this season, to not talk to Jenson again for the rest of the morning.

"Get the fuck out, Button" Paolo hissed, barely looking at the blond man. Jenson had sneaked into his drivers room, catching Paolo by surprise while changing into his driving clothes.

"C´mon Pao, don´t be boring" cheekiness brigthed his expression. He kept on trying to get close to the american. Paolo pulled his shirt up, blue eyes glued at him. "I came to check on you" He finally gulped.

"T´thing is I don´t want to fucking see you" Paolo punched the other´s chest with the fireproof in his hand. Jenson could do nothing but back off, his wide smile as a proof he was pleased with the touch. "Seriously, I´m not in the mood" He pronounced each word roughly.

"Stop acting all grumpy, I´m sure we can work this out"

"Work this out! Are ya´ fucking kidding me?" He got closer with each word "I tried to ‘work this out’, and you’ve fucking with me since first day" Jenson was unable to keep his eyes away from him, they were so close. Eyes, lips, eyes, lips, eyes... "Making fun of me, talk shit behind ma´back, fucking my race. My race Jen-" lips. Every word abandoned his mind as Jenson´s hand caressed his curls. His back muscles clenched when the british’s left hand found his waist. The hand curved perfectly against him, shameless teases into his skin. Right when the hand found the curve to his ass Paolo pushed him, not hard enough for them to separate, but rough enough for Jenson to slow down with a desperate breath.

"You kissed me" An amused expression in the curly haired man "Who the fuck kisses in tha’ middle of a fight" Jenson smiled dizzily.

"Things were heating up" He said smugly, the smile on his face growing wider "I didnt figure that girlfriend of yours would mind" That little piece of shit, of course he knew. The team was forcing him into a relationship, good sponsoring they said. Paolo thought nobody would know except his team.

"God, you are an asshole" his hands pushed Jenson against the door of the room hesitant.

"Am I?" The curly haired shallow, ignoring unsuccessfully all the thoughts that run in his head.

"Shut up"

"Man, where were you?" Kubica screamed for his attention as Paolo made his way out of the McLaren motor home. Both Renault drivers looked at him, Robert wearing a cap weirdly and Lewis drinking from his bottle.

"Drivers room, getting ready an´all" he held the racing suit, adjusting the clothing to his waist.

"Having some fun or what?" The older man eyed his neck. Paolo heated up, thinking he had hide the red, now turning purple, spot.

"Uhm, yeah. Having fun" he mumbled. Lewis laughed.

"Hilarious. What a piece you are"

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28 August 2010 . . . (Belgium gp)

paoprimo54

❤️ liked by jensonbutton, mclaren and others

Hello Instagram?

comments

user5: he’s so baby girl

jensonbutton: he likes them big

⤷ user5: wow, I wasn’t expecting that

⤷ user2: and he’s talking about en sandwiches right

⤷ user66: be so fcking for right I just knew they banged each other after Australia.

user3: IM GOING INSANE HEs SO BEAUTIFUUUUL 🎀😩

user9: Jensons comments is insane

⤷ user8: those two have the hots for each other

user12: the man you are pao, the man you are 😔

mclaren

❤️ liked by paoprimo54, kimiraikonnen and others

Both of our drivers will renew their contract next year. We’re very proud to count with these young talents, and are be ready to work on the constructors and teams championships!! (tagged: jensonbutton, paoprimo54)

comments

paoprimo54: Looking forward to our relationship together!!

⤷ jensonbutton: Sure you do Pao

user6: IM LOVING THIS MCLAREN ERA 🤭

user23: 💪🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

user9: Lovely team, lovely duo

⤷ user47: destructive duo*

jensonbutton: 💪💪💪

⤷ paoprimo54: shut up nutcase 😘

“God” he lets out a heavy sigh. Both of them naked in the hotel room. All windows were open and a lean blanket covered them dramatically “We should do this more often” Jenson looked beautiful with his dumb characteristic smiled, all flustered.

“What? Screwing in my hotel room?” Paolo laughs, resting his head in his right bicep.

“Yeah, but-” Jenson laughs at his little joke “not what I meant. You and I”

“Are you asking me out honey?” The derision in his tone was more than obvious, but the blond melted with the pet name, every little piece of attention melting his skin lovely.

“I am” The American saw Jenson stand up in his elbows just to see his face better “Do you want to go out with me?” A little smile crawling into his face.

“I don’t know Jense” Paolo knew nothing good could come out of that, they could be seen, filmed, but a little voice in the back of his head whispered prayers for him to accept.

“Italian food” Jense’s smile grew back again because he knew Paolo wouldn’t say no to his favourite food.

“Italian huh?” He bitted his lip annoyed “Shit, fine”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ｡･ੈ✩‧₊˚

16 November 2010 . . .

skysports

❤️ liked by sebastianvettel, joannanwesom and others

Paolo Primo winner of the Constructors Championship of 2010 with McLaren. He is the first American winner since Mario Andretti in 1978 and first Jew to win a Championship since Jody Scheckter in 1979. After two DNF’s and a rough time getting along with his teammate, Primo scored the most points, being followed very close by Sebastian Vettel Red Bull’s new acquisition.

comments have been restricted

markwebber: Amazing brother💪💪💪

jensonbutton: Very deserved ❤️!

joannanewsom: ❤️❤️❤️

feralonsoofficial: Well done Paolo 💪😘

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6 June 2024 . . .

paoprimo54

❤️ liked by jensonbutton, pedrodelarosa and others

I’ve heard there’s been a lot of talking about mine and Jense’s relationship, has been for 15 years. I just wanted to clarify that we did in fact hate each other for long eight years, buuuuut we just needed to blow some steam and now we’re very close (that’s our kid in the last one).

comments

user1: definitely not on my 2024 bingo

⤷ user1: not complaining tho

markwebber: Proud of you guys!

user2: PAO N JENSE HUSBANDS CONFIRMED 💕💍👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

sebastianvettel: 💪❤️

lewishamilton: Baby Lou looks beautiful!

user3: this is actually my Roman Empire

joannanewsom: ❤️

user5: my favourite gays

⤷ user8: best enemies to lovers fr fr

user13: And during pride month… The way I love u Paolo

logansargeant: Happy pride month I guess lol💪

⤷ paoloprimo54: hahah ❤️

[silversainz]

Snut prompt 23

Lewis hamilton

Prompt requested 23 “such a tiny baby, so small you could see my dick in your stomach”

# warnings — obvious size kink, bulge kink, don!lewis, dirty talk.

You were small compared to Lewis and that was something he absolutely adored, loving how small your hands looked compared to his, loved how you always needed help when wanting something from the top shelf and oh, absolutely loved how how small you looked underneath him while his cock was buried deep in your cunt.

And now as whines and moans left your mouth was the prime example of how crazy Lewis went seeing your small frame trapped underneath him as his cock hit all the areas that had tears escaping your eyes hitting the bedsheets, staining them with the paint that fell from your eyes as he pounded into you at an brutal pace.

“Fuck Lewis” your hands scratched down his back, groans falling from his mouth as the felt the weight of your fingertips dig into his back surely leaving marks.

“Fuck look at you, such a tiny baby, so small you can see my dick in your stomach” his hand threaded through your hair tugging your head forward to look at where you both were connected at, the sight of seeing his dick in your stomach made you moan loudly, cunt becoming wetter as the image of his cock wouldn’t leave your head.

“Don’t stop Lewis- fuck-please” you begged legs starting to shake and stomach getting tighter. “Shit, am gonna cum” your back arched off the bed feeling hit that one spot that had you seeing stars.

Lewis ducked his head down forehead touching yours as grunts left his mouth, “cum for me baby, cum”