#f1 ships

[shutinlear53]

Jenson Button woke up and said "Yeah, I'll feed the F1 fujos tonight"

[fairie-grl]

the top two f1 pairs it wouldn’t shock me if they fucked irl is yukierre and glex, in fact you cant convince me they haven’t already

[haneensab005]

Here are some f1 memes I made pt.2:

[brocedesmyparents]

As long as Nico keeps defending Lewis, I will continue to believe in Brocedes.

[iamred-iamyellow]

the mental gymnastics I have to do in order to be a maxiel, lestappen, charlos, carlando, carcar, landoscar, loscar, sargebon, and galex shipper is crazy

[leftneb]

to absolutely no one's request: an updated and expanded revision of the a ship chart I made back in august

ramblings about my thought process and clearer definitions of the catergories below the cut :3

plus a blank for your scientific purposes!! I'd honestly love to see other people's charts this was so fun to do

main - self explanatory, these are pairings I'm actively deranged about. always (actively seek out fic etc)

bros - non-romance category, these are pretty much the most prominent "main pairing's friendgroup" lines (plus carjack because I didn't want jack to be lonely lmao)

mentour-mentee - self explanatory (although you can't see it that well on the graph mb) most of these have to do with nationality and teammateship

real - I had a bit of trouble defining where the line between this category and "silly" would be, what I settled on at the end was "would you find this in my reblogs like, more than once" which has a large but not 100% overlap with "pairings I've actually read fic about"

silly - pairings I enjoy in the bg of fic, but wouldn't neccessarilly read about (with the exception of the Banger fic, which has a chance of tipping the pairing over into the "real" category

missing: Simi (would be in the "silly" category) I cannot believe I fucking fucking forgot them but I also could not be arsed to redo the 2nd graph entirely

I split the more negative category into two subcategories:

1. in romantic contexts no but as bros yes

I get it, but no - self explanatory, I can very much see the appeal but personally not interested for whatever reason

neutral/? - either just don't have feelings on it (but see it around enough that I'm not completely blank) or mixed feelings (lots of these didn't end up on this list ex: jendo and jondo. for the sake of entertainment sure but nah)

2. not my thing

NOT for me - I wouldn't say there's any pairings I "hate" per se but some just feel a bit icky (age differences + carlando lmao. I think the latter has more to do with carlos' typical portrayal in landoscar fics)

not convinced - self explanatory, just not compelled by their dynamic as I understand it (I am however, easily swayed)

[reidiot]

relax bro ain't nobody taking it from you

[valsmotive]

I will lose you. It is written into this poem the way the fisherman’s wife knits his death into the sweater.

"the sweater" by gregory orr (inspired by: sixteenthprince)

[oscar-pasta-tree]

I was the hero, but you get the glory

Now I’m the villain inside of you story

I was the saint, you used to adore me

Now I’m the villain inside of your story

- Hero, David Kushner

[orgasming-caterpillar]

And It's Too Cold//It's Too Cold

Lewis Hamilton/Nico Rosberg | Angst | Smut | 1695 words | on ao3 | in Google Docs

Songfic Based On: Sweater Weather, The NBHF

Nico was in the cooldown room when it happened. Towel in hand, he was wiping the cold droplets trickling down his torso when Lewis burst open the door. (They didn't even use the cooldown room at the same time anymore.)

“Nico.”

The name left his teammate's mouth for the first time in weeks. Nico's throat didn't have to tighten like that— he wasn't going to speak anyway.

“I need to talk to you,” Lewis said, something desperate in his voice that Nico wasn't sure was real.

All I am is a man

Nico’s words were careful, deliberately stern. “What do you want, Lewis?”

I want the world in my hands

“To talk to you- about the race.” Abu Dhabi. 2016. “You won. Congratulations. I still won the championship.”

That seemed to snap something inside Lewis. In a swift motion, he lunged at Nico. But his childhood friend was much too familiar with his tactics, he knew about his speedy attacks and had swift reflexes to match. All those teenage years spent wrestling on hotel beds weren't for nothing.

“I don't fucking care!” Lewis shouted, his collar grasped in Nico's hands, Nico pushed all up against the wall. “I don't fucking care that I won the race!”

“You seemed to care a fuck lot about it on the track, mate,” Nico spat.

Lewis jerked his shoulders, hitting his head on the wall in the process. “Why can't you see, Nico?! Why can't you understand? I can't take this anymore.”

I hate the beach

But I stand in California with my toes in the sand

“Take what, Lewis? Because all I've been doing this year is take and take and fucking take. You haven't taken shit compared to what you've put me through.” His eyes were burning now. He needed Lewis out of here.

“I can't take this— you pretending I don't exist. I will take the accidents and the crashes and the goddamn fistfights, but I can't,” —his voice broke, eyes welling up, and Nico had the urge to wipe them before any tears fell— “I can't take this, Nico.”

Use the sleeves of my sweater

“You really think you're the only one suffering? How self centred, how typical of you, Lewis.”

Let's have an adventure

“...What?”

“You think this doesn't hurt me? this non stop fighting and competition, and never making up? Open your fucking eyes. I don't like this any more than you do.”

Lewis' hands dropped from his shoulders, chest heaving. The air between them was electric, too dangerous to breathe in.

Head in the clouds but my gravity centered

“Then why do you do it?” It was the smallest voice Nico had ever heard.

Because it's better than admitting the truth. Because it has less consequences than saying 'I love you.' “Because you started it.”

Touch my neck and I'll touch yours

Dark eyes trailed from his wet hair to the damn skin of his torso, not in a lewd way, but like a man recalling all that he has to lose. When he looked back up, there was a hope in his eyes that Nico couldn't bear looking at. “And will you stop if I stop?”

You in those little high waisted shorts, oh

This was a terrible idea from the beginning. The Karting, the trip to Greece, the ride-or-die friendship, all of it— terrible.

Oh, she knows what I think about

“Stop fucking thinking so much, Nico, it can't get worse than this.”

It really couldn't.

And what I think about

The answer came in the form of a desperate hand grabbing the back of Lewis’ head to bring him closer.

It was a gunshot, the way their lips met each other's. It was the sweet shock of love after a lifetime of yearning. It was like their first sip of too-strong whiskey at fourteen, knowing they've crossed a line they can never go back to.

One love, two mouths

Lewis’ surprise melted into eagerness in a split second. Nico tilted his head and grabbed his bicep. Lewis had grabbed Nico's face with both hands like he was something dear and precious.

It really was a terrible idea, and nothing could ever fix it; but if they were going to burn they'd go down singing in the flames.

One love, one house

“Take off your shirt,” he grunted. Lewis obeyed.

Smooth brown skin burned under Nico's freezing palms. He grabbed a handful of the pecs, moaning into the kiss.

No shirt, no blouse

“Is this—” Lewis pushed him away. God give him dignity, Nico almost whined. “Is this a confession thing? Or a goodbye thing? Because I have no idea what I'll do with a goodbye fuck.”

Just us, you find out

Nico had no idea either. He didn't want to leave Lewis. But for now, the only thing on his mind was the throbbing heart under his hand. They were here. ‘Leaving’ seemed like something out of a hazy dream. “I don't know.”

Nothing that I wouldn't wanna tell you about, no

Lewis had this look on his face— like he wanted to run away but his feet wouldn't take him. Nico wanted to tell him that there was nothing he could have done to change anything. There was nothing that could have ended up with them anywhere other than where they are. He didn't say anything.

'Cause it's too cold for you here

“Do you really? Or is this another game?” Yes, Nico wanted to yell. He knew what Hamilton was asking. 'Do you really love me?’ and he wanted to yell, Yes, yes, yes. I do love you. I do. I'm sorry. All he could do was nod.

And now, so let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

Lewis put a hand on his cheek, kissing him again. Only this time it was so much more gentle, yet hurt so much more. Somewhere in his subconscious Lewis seemed to have realised that this was probably the first and last time they will ever do this; and he did it like he wanted to remember.

And if I may just take your breath away

There was so much Nico wanted to say, and he couldn't say any of it. He wanted to scream.

We will never be the same again, he wanted to say. I will never love another like you. A moan. You've destroyed all that I was. A sigh. Do not destroy what I am. Hands caressed his body, so soft it was painful. Build me a pyre, and I'll still whisper your name as I burn. A prayer. I love y—

“How do you want this?” Lewis whispered, hands working him out of his pants.

I don't mind if there's not much to say

Nico grabbed his shoulders, using the stability of Lewis’ hands on his thighs to wrap his legs around his waist. He relished in the way Lewis groaned, he would never hear it ever again.

Sometimes the silence guides a mind

To move to a place so far away

Lewis was gentle, so gentle. They both loved like an ocean. With Nico it was a tsunami; desire coursing through his veins as he groped, wrecked, swallowed everything that came in his way. And with Lewis it was this; sweet, gentle and relentless like moonlit waves in the darkest hours of the night. What choice did either have but to drown?

The goosebumps start to raise

“More,” he whimpered, arching his back against the wall. The soft gaze with which Lewis was watching him was more violent than any fistfight they've ever had.

And then I watch your face

Put my finger on your tongue 'cause you love to taste, yeah

It hurt— even with how tender Lewis was being. Maybe more so because of that. He harshened the pace at Nico's request, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. Their hearts beat in sync, thudding against the ribcages pressed together.

These hearts adore, everyone the other beats hardest for

Strangling begins with holding. Cannibalism begins with a kiss. They both bring grief and hurt and madness; what is love if not just tender violence?

Inside this place is warm

Outside it starts to pour

He reached the peak of his pleasure first, spilling onto their abdomens. Lewis followed right after.

Coming down

One love, two mouths

They stayed like that for a while; chests heaving, foreheads pressed together, hearts broken like the promises they made at fourteen.

One love, one house

No shirt, no blouse

“Don't leave me, Nico.”

Just us, you find out

Why do you speak to me and why do I try to understand? he thought. We no longer speak the same language.

Not a word was uttered.

Nothing that I wouldn't wanna tell you about, no, no, no

“We can fix this.” That damned hope.

'Cause it's too cold for you here

“Put me down,” was what Nico chose to say. Lewis did, searching his face desperately for an answer.

And now, so let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

Nico picked his pants off the floor, pulling them on without another word. Lewis spared them both the pain and stayed silent as well.

'Cause it's too cold for you here

He was wiping his torso with a spare towel when Lewis finally spoke.

“You promised, Nico.”

Nico looked at him, no longer caring about the wet streaks on his cheeks. “We made a lot of stupid promises.”

And now, so let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

“You said we'd race together. Forever. You said you wouldn't race without me. Then why should I?”

Wasn't forever such a sweet lie? It wasn't nearly as long as people thought it was.

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

“I'm leaving racing for good, Lewis.”

And it's too cold, it's too cold

Lewis was silent for what seemed like hours. “I love you.”

With a single whispered phrase, Nico shut the door behind him. “It'll pass.”

The holes of my sweater…

[coyidk]

BROCEDES THIS YOU??!

cr to @ / theactorbat on tiktok

[lxndonorris]

moments like these - Charlos

Charles Leclerc x Carlos Sainz Jr Theme: smutish, teasing, touching, angsty (a mess) Charles and Carlos are getting ready for the British GP and Charles gets sentimental thinking about next year x word count: 1870+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests, pairings or reader is fine ;)

It is a crisp Friday morning at Silverstone, the air tinged with anticipation as F1 teams prepare for the first practice session of the British Grand Prix. In the heart of the paddock, amidst the bustling activity, stands Charles' motorhome. Inside, the two Ferrari pilots are getting all geared up and ready for a hopefully good start to the race weekend.

Charles glances out the window, his eyes scanning the bustling Silverstone paddock. It is a typical British summer day, gray clouds hanging low and the air charged with excitement. 

He is already wearing his racing suit, looking just as good as always. The suit accentuates his frame perfectly, and the tailored fit highlights his athletic build. 

To tease Carlos a little, he keeps the upper half of his suit hanging down around his waist, exposing his tight, red fireproofs. The frabric clings to his taut muscles, hugging him like a second skin.

Charles relishes the feeling of his racing gear against his skin. There is something uniquely exhilarating about the snug fit of his fireproofs and the protective weight of his racing suit.

Every time he pulls it on, he feels a surge of adrenaline, a reminder of the incredible power and speed that await him on the track.

He firmly runs a hand across his chest, subconsciously feeling his muscles underneath his shirt. The fabric is cool and smooth, designed to offer both comfort and protection. It is part of his identity as a driver, a uniform that transforms him into a force to be reckoned with on the track.

Charles catches his reflection in the window, satisfied with what he sees. The racing suit fits him perfectly, tight in all the right places, especially around the waist. His groomed beard and messy hair add to his rugged charm, and he knows his accent is the final touch that makes the whole package irresistible.

Running two fingers along his jawline, a smirk tugs at his lips when his focus shifts to his teammates reflection, standing a few meters behind him.

"Like what you see?" He hears Carlos voice echo through the motorhome, and right away, he licks his lips in excitement. 

Like a child caught in the act of mischief, Charles turns away from the window, and his gaze settles on Carlos, who is just putting on the lower half of his racing suit. He catches sight of Carlos's fireproof undergarments, the tight fabric clinging to his body in a way that makes Charles's heart race even faster.

"Oh, yeah." He nods with his eyes wandering all over Carlos's form. "

He is thrilled to watch his boyfriend dress up, a private moment that feels intimate and special amid the chaos of the race weekends. 

They have been teammates for years now, a partnership that grew from professional camaraderie to something deeper and more intimate. They managed to keep their relationship a secret, a feat not easily accomplished in the high-octane, gossip-driven world of Formula 1.

But somehow, they've made it work thus far, even though it's going to be much harder when Carlos leaves the team at the end of the season. News, that broke Charles's heart the most, and he is reminded of this week after week.

Charles pushes these thoughts away, his focus shifting to the man he loves stretching right in front of him.

"Need a hand with that?" Charles offers with a light chuckle, his voice playful.

Carlos looks at him, a grin spreading across his face. "Enjoying the show, are we?"

"Always," Charles replies, his eyes twinkling with affection. "You make it hard to look away."

And he means it.

Carlos looks equally stunning in his racing suit, the red fabric flattering his complexion and accentuating his well-formed body. Charles, unble to take his eyes off him, subconsciously strokes his own chest while watching Carlos, who catches the gesture and smirks, clearly enjyong the attention.

He, in turn, smoothes the fabric of his suit with the palm of his hand, using it as an excuse to touch himself, drawing Charles's gaze to the way the suit clings to his physique. The way his muscles flex as he moves, the determination in his eyes, and the natural confidence he exudes are captivating. 

The air is charged with a mixture of affection and unspoken desire, a silent understanding passing between them.

Charles loves these stolen moments, where they can be themselves, free from prying eyes of the public and the pressure of their roles as Ferrari drivers. 

"You look amazing," Charles said softly, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

Carlos chuckles, his eyes twinkling brightly. "Coming from you, that means a lot."

Charles steps closer, his hand still lingering on his chest. "It's true. The suit suits you so well."

Carlos's smile widens, and he takes a step forward, closing the distance between them.

"You don't look too bad yourself, Leclerc." He teases, knowing very well what buttons to push to make Charles lose himself in the moment.

Their eyes meet, and for a moment, they forget about the race weekend, the team and focus on just each other.

Charles's hand moves from his own chest to Carlos's, feeling the warmth of his body through the fabric. "I will miss this," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos places his hand over Charles's, squeezing it gently. "Oh, Charles." 

His expression softens, and he takes a step closer, his other hand coming up to cup Charles's cheek. "I know," he says gently. "It's going to be different, but it doesn't change what we have."

Charles looks into Carlos's eyes, searching for reassurance. "But it won't be the same." We won't have these moments, this closeness."

Carlos smiles, a comforting warmth in his gaze. "We will find new ways to be together. Just because we won't be on the same team doesn't mean we won't see each other. We'll make it work."

Charles nods, feeling a bit of the weight lift from his shoulders. "You're right. It's just hard to think about."

Carlos leans in, his forehead resting against Charles's. "I know, but we have now, and we'll make the most of it. And when the time comes, we'll face that change together, just like we face everything else."

Charles closes his eyes, savoring the closeness the comfort of Carlos's presence. "Thank you," he whispers. "I needed to hear that."

Carlos pulls back slightly, his smile widening. "Anytime, mon cher. Now, let's focus on today. We've got a whole weekend in front of us."

Charles chuckles, feeling his spirit lift. "Right."

Some thoughts still linger, however, and he is unable to push them aside. 

"Hey, can you help me with my suit? The upper half is always a bit tricky." Carlos smiles shyly, his big brown eyes shining brightly.

Charles immediately knows what he is doing, but he doesn't mind. He appreciates the small gesture that shows how well Carlos understands him. "Of course," he replies, stepping closer once more.

Carlos slips his arms into the sleeves of his racing suit with practiced ease; his movements fluid and confident. Charles reaches out, his hands straightening the fabric, smoothing it over Carlos's chest.

His fingers trace the contours of Carlos's muscular arms, up to his broad shoulders, and finally to his neck. The intimacy of the gesture—the familiar touch—sends a shiver down Charles's spine.

Carlos closes his eyes, a contented hum escaping his lips as he savors the feeling. "You always know how to make everything better," he murmurs.

Charles swallows hard, his heart pounding in his chest. The way Carlos responds to his touch, the quiet joy in his eyes make it difficult to resist the pull of emotions.

He hesitates for a moment, the weight of their surroundings and the reality of their situation pressing down on him. But then he sees the trust and love in Carlos's gaze, and it gives him the courage he needs.

Without another word, Charles leans in and kisses Carlos, a gentle yet passionate expression of his feelings. It is a kiss that holds all the emotions he can't put into words—the love, the gratitude, the sadness, and the hope for their future.

Carlos responds in an instant, his arms wrapping around Charles, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, a silent promise that no matter what changes lay ahead, their bond would remain unbroken.

When they finally pull apart, both of them are breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. "Thank you," Charles whispers, his voice filled with emotion. "For everything."

Carlos smiles, his eyes shining with affection, as Charles slowly zips up his suit, his hands moving with a gentle, deliberate care. When he finishes, he pets Carlos lovingly, his fingers lingering on his chest. 

A sly smirk plays on his lips as he glances down at Charles's chest, noting how the cold British weather has a visible effect on his boyfriend, the tight fireproofs clinging to his skin, and the nipples imprinting through them.

"Need some help with yours?" Carlos offers, his voice tinged with playful concern.

Charles nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Sure, I'd like that."

Carlos's touch is gentle yet slightly possessive as he begins helping his boyfriend with the upper half of his suit. His fingers deftly guide the fabric over Charles's shoulders, smoothing it down in one swift motion.

But just before he zips up the suit, his hand slides inside, stroking Charles's tummy with a tenderness that gives him goosebumps.

Charles can't help but let out a guttural growl; the sensation both comforting and electrifying. The feel of Carlos's hand on his chest, the warmth and familiarity of his touch, is something he cherishes deeply.

"Now, this feels better, eh?" He teases, his hand continuing its gentle caress.

Charles closes his eyes, relishing this moment. "You know it does." He murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

Carlos's hand lingers for a moment longer, his touch both reassuring and grounding. Then, with a final, loving stroke, he zips up Charles's suit, sealing them both in their racing armor.

"There," Carlos says softly, his eyes meeting Charles's. "Ready to take on the other's?"

He nods and grabs their Ferrari caps from the counter, slipping his on with ease, and watches as Carlos takes his cap and puts it on backwards, a playful grin spreading across his face. 

The gesture is quintessentially Carlos—casual, confident, and full of charm.

"Looking good," Charles remarks, unable to suppress a smile. The backward cap adds a touch of roguishness to his already striking appearance.

"Carlos chuckles, adjusting the cap slightly. "Just trying to keep up with you."

Charles shakes his head, the weight of the earlier conversation lifting. The simple act of putting on their caps, a routine they shared countless times, brings a sense of normalcy and comfort—a reminder that despite the looming changes, some things will always stay the same.

They head out of the motorhome, their caps firmly in place. The chilly British air greets them, but the warmth of their connection keeps the cold at bay.

As they walk toward the garage, they fall into step side by side, ready to face the day's challenges with renewed determination.

-

EN: I needed this after last week's fiasco....

[brocedesmyparents]

straight from the tortured poets department

[tinypeaceconnoisseur]

Girls ( aka me ) after shipping grown men who go vroom vroom in ( almost ) circles all day .

The delusion is strong in this one 😆.

[fullsundiall]

ranking my fave f1 ships after 2 months in the fandom

1. lestappen

i mean come on. being very very good and also very very weird with each other, it’s just the pefect storm.

2. nortrell

somehow i have become the biggest max f fan and you know what? i’m not even mad about it. their friendship is just adorable and their fics are delicious. oh my gosh.

3. brocedes

yeah, i think i love nico rosberg. the storylines, the history, everything about this couple is perfect (ship-wise). i’ve sobbed at edits of these two too much for it not to be in my top three.

4. loscar

to be honest, i don’t know what these two are called. is it logscer? but they are cute together and oscar on the latest episode of tourque is perfect. it’s their prema era videos together that really get me.

5. alex and george

whatever their ship name is, this is just classic cute childhood besties AND I LOVE!

[trees-ofwire]

I’m curious so…