#hertwood

[raapija]

Got inspired by @nico-di-genova ❤️

Unhinged text posts of my men 🫶

[hertwood]

thank you to @omigodyall for finding these stories from colton's girlfriend riley and her sister, of kyle and colton grilling in the late evening after the 500, in the midst of a thunderstorm

[earl-grey-teacake]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Formula 1 RPF, IndyCar RPF Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Oscar Piastri/Logan Sargeant, Kyle Kirkwood & Logan Sargeant, Lando Norris & Oscar Piastri, Arrow McLaren drivers & Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen (background), Colton Herta/Kyle Kirkwood (background), Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr (background) Characters: Oscar Piastri, Logan Sargeant, Kyle Kirkwood, Colton Herta, Lando Norris, Patricio "Pato" O'Ward, Alexander Rossi, Nolan Siegel, Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen, Leo Leclerc, Oliver Bearman, Arthur Leclerc, Carlos Sainz Jr Additional Tags: Social Media Posts, text chat, Humor, Sad love-sick Oscar, Logan living his best life in Indycar, Jealous Oscar Piastri, the Verstappen-Leclerc family, Auction AU Summary:

Williams was poor, easily the poorest team on the grid and sponsorships can only do so much. Now, down to the last 100 million, they have to auction off their most prized possession, their drivers. This would be the chance for Oscar to swoop in, to be the knight in shining armor to the love of his life, and ride off into the sunset.

Sadly, bravery and common sense had escaped Oscar so Logan's knight came in the form of Kyle Kirkwood. Now, Oscar watches bitterly from the sidelines, scrolling through posts after posts about how happy Logan is as he slowly descends into madness and makes it Mclaren's problem.

*****

A SPECIAL THANK YOU TO @my-fall-from-grace FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA READER ON THIS!!!! 🥰

[sugenberry]

[nico-di-genova]

When the rpf IndyCar ship has post race hug photos, *chefs kiss*.

[stockcarbaby24]

Kyle Kirkwood/Colton Herta

9.3k words, completed, rated E

Summery

Kyle knew he was being too obvious. By about lap 40 it settled over him in a heavy awareness, screaming in the back of his head. Everyone is going to figure you out.

It didn’t matter. He couldn’t let it matter at this point, Colton was going to win this race and end his losing streak- Kyle was going to make sure it happened.

--

Kyle sacrifices parts of himself to help Colton win the Toronto GP, but it all feels so worth it to watch the way his teammate smiles back to at him after the flag has dropped. Is it too much for Kyle to hope for more than just this moment together?

[i-am-church-the-cat]

ferrucci shut the fuck up challenge

"Fucking Ferrucci."

Kyle drops his bag on the floor and follows it's descent down onto the bed, only to be prodded out of it by Colton. He grumbles but allows himself to be herded towards the tiny bathroom.

"Fucking Ferrucci," Colton agrees, handing him a change of clothes before shutting the door on him. Kyle can hear everything the man does on the other side of the door and he allows the flimsy material to prop him up as he listens. Kyle hears him clatter around the kitchen to make their typical pre-race dinner of Aldi's chicken alfredo. The familiar sounds lull his eyelids to droop back down.

The banging on the door has him jolting back into action, yelling something unintelligible back at his teammate. Colton's unsympathetic laughter is the last thing Kyle hears before he slips under the spray.

He has a few texts waiting for him when he gets out of the bathroom, including one a few hours ago from Logan. It's nearly 3AM in Zandvoort but the time stamp is from right after Kyle got out of the car. He texts him and his mom back before shutting his phone off again.

The motorhome is as tiny as always and Kyle ends up pressed up against Colton's side, peering over his shoulder to watch him cook. The younger man's elbow digs into Kyle's stomach every time he stirs the heating pasta, but Kyle remains where he is until Colton tries to swat at his head with the spatula. Then he's laughing and moving back towards the couch.

There was no need for the pull out couch over summer break, obviously, but Colton still hasn't pulled it out since races started again. Kyle tries not to think about the arm around his waist and the head tucked into his shoulder that's the reason for that because then he'll want to talk about it and Colton has been very clear about Not Talking About It. So he sinks back into the couch and watches Colton silently, enjoying the rare moments during the race weekend when they're left alone.

The quiet stretches until, "I can feel you watching me."

Kyle feels the grin stretch across his face and he's sure Colton knows it's there even if his hasn't turned around. "I'm not trying to hide it."

Colton fills two bowls and turns towards him. Kyle grins harder seeing the tinge of pink on his face and Colton frowns deeper in response. "Just eat your dinner," he tells him, shoving a bowl into his hands before sitting down next to him. They're pressed from shoulder to hip so Kyle isn't worried about him actually being upset.

"Thanks," Kyle hums and digs in, ravenous now that he's been given permission to think about his hunger. They're quiet again except for the sound of their chewing and the movement of people outside the RV. Colton's motorhome feels so private sometimes that Kyle forgets that they're not that cutoff from the outside world. Definitely not enough to do anything more than sleep in the same bed, even if Kyle's thought's on the subject have tripled in these last few weeks.

"So," Colton starts, breaking Kyle from his revery. "Ferrucci. Think you can take him out for me tomorrow?"

Kyle snorts and sinks deeper into the couch - and even more into Colton. "Sure. You know the only thing I like more than you finishing first is you finishing second behind me."

It's supposed to be a joke, it is a joke, but it comes out a little more suggestive than he means it to. Colton looks down at him and suddenly his smile feels less genuine. He goes to look away, laugh it off, but Colton is already speaking.

"Alright," Colton hums. "You win tomorrow. I'll finish second."

"Yeah?" Kyle whispers, somewhere between shock and awe.

"Only seems fair." Colton's smile ticks up on one side. "You did it for me."

"Sixth and tenth are a little different than first and second," Kyle points out, ignoring how short-of-breath he sounds.

"You can do it," Colton says confidently. It sounds less like encouragment and more like a demand. Before Kyle can think of what to say, the weight against his side is gone. Colton grabs their bowls and leaves Kyle floundering in his wake.

—

"Ferrucci needs to learn to shut his fucking mouth."

Kyle laughs as he hits the bed, the sound muffled when Colton lands on top of him and covers Kyle's mouth with his own. He tastes like champagne and Kyle wants to suck it off his tongue. And every other place Kyle had drenched on the podium today.

Of course, Ferrucci had shit to say about how Kyle and Colton fought their way to the front and then blocked him out of the top three. The insinuation that he and Colton were fucking didn't hit as hard now that it was true, though maybe more dangerous. Kyle just had to trust that no one gave a fuck what Ferruci had to say. He certainly didn't.

"You didn't come in second," Kyle huffs out when Colton finally gives him time to breathe. He casts a glance to the third and first place trophies sitting on the table.

"Oh, I'm about to," Colton assures, tearing at the front of Kyle's racesuit. He moves to help him even as he reminds Colton that their team is expecting them in an hour. His eyes gleam. "We'll just have to be quick then."

It is quick. Embarassingly so. But, Kyle supposes as he interlocks his fingers with Colton's over his dick. That's what it takes to come first.

[dostoslaysky]

i need more fics where people (bonus point if it's colton) appreciate and worship kyle's freckles like he's so beautiful my beautiful beautiful babygirl

[inlap]

zero to sixty (ao3 link)

pairing: colton/kyle wordcount: 1k summary: “Shit,” Colton exhaled, hitching, “You’re actually kinda good at this.”

“Shit,” Colton exhaled, hitching, “You’re actually kinda good at this.”

Admittedly not his best work when it came to encouragement. You’d have to forgive him for being a touch distracted, given the situation. 

Kyle looked up at him from beneath his lashes. Beneath his freckles, his skin was flushed an impossibly vibrant pink. Autonation pink, Colton thought, fringing on delirium. Kyle’s cheeks were hollowed out, his lips stretched around Colton. And he felt so damn good that Colton didn’t even care about the bitchy look he was shooting up at him. 

Colton ran an errant, loose hand over Kyle’s short hair, patting him. He smiled.

“‘m serious. Five star rating.” Colton was a simple man and Kyle was tight, hot, and wet—not too toothy or anything. And the way he pressed the flat of his tongue to the vein on the underside of Colton’s shaft… a deep sigh loosed from the back of Colton’s throat, his eyelids fluttering. 

“No way this is the first time you’ve sucked dick. Can’t be. You’re too good. You’re like a—”

Kyle pulled off from Colton with an obscene wet pop and a little protesting keen filtered through Colton’s gritted teeth. His touch on Kyle’s hair grew pleading. He tried to gently coax Kyle back to what he’d just stopped doing. 

Kyle only batted his hand away. His brows drew down low over his gaze. 

“Dude,” he said, his voice hoarse enough to make Colton feel lightheaded. 

Shit, Colton thought. Did I do that? Did I wreck Kyle Kirkwood’s throat with my dick? 

“Can you pipe down for, like, fifteen seconds?” Kyle continued.

“Pipe down?” Colton echoed. 

His brain still wasn’t up to speed, admittedly, but he didn’t see why that mattered. It’s not like they had to worry about being overheard. 

It was late. Everyone smarter than them (that was to say—literally everyone else) was already asleep in their trailers in anticipation of the race that would be taking place the next day. He could be as loud as he wanted without fear of rousing suspicions. 

He opened his mouth to say as much. 

What came out from him instead was an incoherent, “A-ah,” as Kyle took him in hand without warning. 

Kyle started to stroke him, his hand just loose enough to maintain Colton’s state of arousal. Colton exhaled a deep sigh. He supposed Kyle’s hand was an adequate (though not exactly equally mind blowing) substitution for his mouth.

“I mean, I’m glad you’re enjoying it but I’m trying to concentrate here.” 

Some of the whine Colton had come to know and like a little too much bled through Kyle’s rasp. Among an upswell of fondness, Colton couldn’t resist reaching out for him again. He avoided his hair this time around. 

“I really don’t think I could even if I tried, man. I’m sorry.” He apologized, as he grazed Kyle’s bright-pink cheek with his fingertips. Kyle blinked, his hand slowing to a pause on Colton’s cock.

“You—why?” he asked, and it was only then that Colton remembered everything else Kyle had said. He frowned.

“Wait. Why only fifteen seconds?”

Something bright and mischievous glinted in Kyle’s gaze. 

“‘Cause that’s how long you’re gonna last.”

“Okay, I’m not that pent-up, asshole,” Colton said, without any real venom. 

How could he be mad? Kyle was doing him a favor, after all. He’d so kindly offered to help Colton after Colton had complained about how long his dry spell was beginning to stretch. 

(Colton’s exact words were: I don’t even know what I’d give to get off.  

And Kyle’s response had been: How ‘bout that handle of Tito’s in your fridge?  

Easiest trade in Colton’s life. He didn’t even like vodka all that much, anyway.)

“Yeah?” Kyle asked, drawing Colton out of his reverie. 

“Yeah.” 

“Time it. Bet you’ll finish within a minute,” Kyle levied back at him. 

He sounded so confident. A wave of heated arousal crashed over Colton. It mounted, heightening the heat under his skin to a downright fever, as Kyle leaned back in again. His exhalations ghosted across Colton’s exposed skin. His parted lips nearly kissed the head of Colton’s cock. Colton shivered, electric excitement arcing up his spine. 

Kyle looked up at him again—hazel eyes shining between sandy lashes. 

He didn’t take Colton in past his lips. The anticipation was killing Colton. Really killing him. He was beginning to ache. He needed something to alleviate his near-unbearable arousal. Pressure, friction… something. 

“C’mon. What are you waiting for?” Colton complained. 

“Time me,” Kyle repeated. 

He hadn’t been kidding about that, huh? Distantly, Colton noticed the heat within him was shifting, disseminating upward to coalesce in his cheeks.

“You know, you’re kinda weird.” 

It needed to be said. Colton had never gotten a blowjob where the other person demanded a running race clock. Then again, he’d never gotten a blowjob from another driver before. 

Maybe this was how it was going to be between them, if they ever did this again. Big emphasis on the ‘if.’ Colton didn’t want to get ahead of himself here. 

“Hey, I’m not gonna do this if you're gonna be a jerk to me,” Kyle countered, but he didn’t seem to mind all that much. He was smiling, his lip corners unturned. He really wasn’t half-bad looking, Colton reflected. Especially like this, with his eyes warm and his lips flushed and swollen. 

Colton swallowed, hard. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing. Maybe I like it a little weird, I don’t know. Jesus.”

Kyle laughed. Embarrassingly, Colton felt his cock leap with a jolt of arousal as Kyle leaned in, as his lips brushed up against Colton’s skin. In a teasing, soft brush, Kyle flicked out little more than the very tip of his tongue to lap up the beaded pre-come from the slit of Colton’s cock. 

A string of curses fell from Colton’s lips. He carded his hand through Kyle’s bristly hair again, telling himself he wasn’t holding on for dear life. Then, with little other choice, he started to count down. 

“Sixty… fifty-nine—oh, fuck—fifty-eight, shit. How the fuck are you doing that with your tongue? Fifty-seven… fifty-ah…”

[raapija]

Boyfriend Teammates celebrate 4th of July with their Swedish golden retriever

[hertwood]

Whatever you want (5k, Kyle/Colton, Explicit, a/b/o, Alpha/Alpha)

Kyle’s fucked omegas all his life because it was straightforward, what he was supposed to want, but he’s never wanted anything more than this. He's afraid he won't like it, he's afraid it'll hurt. Even more, he's afraid that if he doesn't try it now he'll never be able to stop thinking about it.

[earl-grey-teacake]

Hertwood shapeshifter!AU

I was stuck in jury duty today and this would not leave my mind. I looked at so many videos of sea otters for this😅

For anyone wondering, this is connected to the shapeshifting!Logan poll I had released a couple weeks ago.

*Pulled from my notes of what the F1 and Indycar grid transform into😂

[sugenberry]

Finally watched the Toronto race and it'd be more subtle if Kyle had just written "marry me?" with tyre marks on track

[nico-di-genova]

Has anyone edited hertwood hug to “where’s the trophy, he just comes running over to me”?Because that feels like it needs to be done.

[stockcarbaby24]

❤️ for hertwood maybe? 👀👀

Thank you so much! I've been trying to write something for them since the infamous Boyfriend Teammates fiasco. Finally pushing me to do this!

❤️First Kiss

Colton almost threw his pole across the boat after the millionth fish got away from him. He made a strained noise through his teeth, choosing to slam the pole on the bench instead and stomp off to get more bait. 

“You gotta reel slower, man,” Kyle offered, helping Colton get the bait out. “If you yank that fast it's just gonna scare the snapper off.” 

Hands on his hips, Colton frowned at him. “Man, I just wanted to go surfing. This sucks.” 

That was maybe a little harsh, he could see the way Kyle tried to control his annoyance. Threading the hook back for Colton, untangling the line from around the rod for him, then handing it to him with a raised eyebrow. The question in his face made Colton flame with shame from acting like a spoiled child. “Sorry…” He took the rod and shuffled away to cast out again. 

“Listen, I know you didn’t want to necessary do this, but Marcus wants to surf tomorrow so w-”

“No sorry, I’m just being a brat,” Colton had the decency to mumble. Really he truly didn’t hate this. He was having fun out with Kyle, enjoying the Florida beaches while they prepped for St. Pete. It was just that he hated fishing with a burning passion. Colton had never had the patience for just sitting around hoping for something would happen, and then maybe catching it when it did. 

But Kyle loved it… so he would try for Kyle. 

Kyle was quietly looking at him, his own rod abandoned on the other side of the boat. Colton tried to keep his eyes out on the water, but he was suddenly feeling particularly studied. Don’t frown to hard, look like you’re having a good time, stop glaring; none of his internal advice seemed to be helping though and Colton could feel his face getting redder under Kyle's eyes. He hoped he’d be able to blame it on the sun. 

“Hold on,” Kyle finally said, suddenly appearing next to Colton. The older man adjusted a couple things on the rod in Colton’s hands, letting their hands brush a few times as he readjusted the tightness of his line again. “Loosen your grip for me, okay cool, now place your finger here.”

“Here?” Colton tried to follow the instruction, while also trying to distinctly not stare at Kyle’s shirtless chest pressing right up against his arm. Like damn he was hot too, but he wasn’t trying to show off and accidentally give himself a sunburn. Kyle had a very different relationship to the heat and sun than he did though. Colton liked being outside, but California heats and Florida heats were so different. Kyle seemed so at home meanwhile under the searing rays and muggy air- like he didn’t feel it at all. All the freckles across his shoulders were like badges of honor showing off how Kyle had defeated the sun. Colton really tried to focus back on the fishing line…

Kyle shook his head, hand guiding under Colton’s. “No, here. If you put your finger here you’ll be able to feel the line move a little easier. Should give you less trouble to start your reel back.” He seemed like he was gonna add something else but hesitated. 

“What else? Give it to me straight, doc.” 

It made Kyle laugh. A sound Colton loved. Kyle had this laugh that could fill the entire space, spreading his joy around freely. But he was a little more sparing with those laughs, trying to stay focused and serious around the track normally. Any time Colton could get a laugh out of Kyle he wanted to record it. Save it away to replay when he was having a stressful day. He was sure the sound could cure his depression. 

“I was just gonna say; if you’re starting to reel one in. Don’t go so fast. Like, you need to pull back,” Kyle mimicked the motion without holding a pole so it looked a little silly. “But then stop and give the fish some slack… they yank again and start reeling.”

“If I get another one ever…” Colton sighed. He gave the rod a little jerk like Kyle had taught him earlier to draw the fish's attention to the tackle- in theory. In practice it hadn't seemed to work so far. 

Suddenly Kyle’s hand was patting his shoulder, squeezing a little and making him jolt. His hand was way too warm under the hot sun, making Colton sweat even harder, his shirt sticking to his shoulder. “Hey, if you wanna quit for now it’s okay. I just appreciate you coming out and trying this at all.”

Colton’s frown deepened and he held his ground. “No way man, I’m not gonna let a fish beat me.” He caught Kyle smiling out of the corner of his eye. “Besides… it makes you happy so.” 

And something seemed to click with that. Like the perfect turn of a reel, Kyle was on the hook without either of them realizing. 

Kyle stared at him in shock. “Why- why does that matter?”

The line was tugging out of Colton’s hands and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even know he was holding it. What was this? His heart was inside his throat suddenly as he looked at Kyle. At this angle he could see that spill of freckles not just on his shoulders but his whole face, the same soft brown as his searching eyes. Uh oh.

“Well…” Colton fumbled to get the fishing pole in the holder on the side of the boat, just desperate for a break for Kyle’s scorching touch. “I mean… I want you to be happy and um, I wanna- I guess care about your interests?” 

“Why?” 

It felt like he was running out of fishing line, but he didn’t know what to- what did he want here?

Swallowing that lump stuck in his throat Colton worked himself to face Kyle. “I, um, well I mean…”

“Colton, why do you care if I’m happy? I’m just your teammate.” 

Colton jerked the pole, desperate not to lose this. “No. No you’re definitely not just a teammate Kyle, I…” he licked his lips watching his own shock mirrored on the other’s face. “I think I, uh, like you.”

“You think?” 

“Look man I don’t know how to explain it I-”

And Kyle was laughing again, grin reaching across ear to ear. “Colton, why do you think I was so determined to hang out with you without Marcus.” 

“Uhh…”

Colton couldn’t believe it as Kyle walked into his space, smiling at him wildly. “Is this okay?” he asked gently, hands hovering over Coltons body. 

Oh god this was- This was happening. Colton didn’t expect any of this; it hadn’t been a planned thing. But now Kyle was here in his grasp practically and he was confessing things he meant to keep locked down for the sake of professionalism and the other wasn’t pushing him off the boat for it. So he just jumped off himself. 

“Yeah, but can I kiss you.”

Kyle jerked his head back in surprise, but the smile didn’t fade. “Oh, my- uh, sure yeah. That’s… that would be nice.” 

Maybe this fishing trip wasn’t completely without a catch.

Colton gave a shaky exhale, hands landing on Kyle's hips, still clothed and a seemingly safer option to touch. He could feel the heat form his exposed skin above still and tried not to go crazy from it. Colton swallowed again, staring at the thin lips waiting for him, as Kyle’s own hands landed on his body. Pulling him a little closer, Kyle leaned down, giving Colton plenty of time to pull away or back out. 

Colton went for it. Their lips connected quickly and unsure at first, but Kyle tilted just right on their next pass and that was it. That same click of the fishing rod perfectly in place, and Colton was on his line this time. He felt like he was melting against Kyle for Christ's sake, leaning into his heat in the sweltering sun, moving his lips in scared little pushes. 

There was a chance they’d stand there forever, at least Colton would have, if Kyle hadn’t had the thought to pull back finally. “Holy-” he mumbled, licking across his own bottom lip. “Damn that was…” his fingers danced across Colton’s ribs and he was looking at the younger man like he wanted to eat him alive. Colton might let him too. 

“Colton… Do you… Oh my god, Colton your line!”

And both the men practically tripped over each other to stop Colton’s fishing rod from getting pulled into the ocean. 

[i-am-church-the-cat]

Me: I’m probably not going to get into IndyCar, I don’t even have a ship to get unhealthily attached to

Me: oh god he’s bullying him on main