#i'm sad for esteban

[softiedingo]

another team on my black list ✅️

[babysdrivers]

esteban not getting to be in the class of '24 photo is actually so sickening

[eocon-fr]

It's official! Us, Esteban' fans, no more have to act like we care about that fucking team !

We are finally free!!🍾🥂

My condolences to Pierre and Jack fans

[notmoreflippingelves]

[graveltrip]

@/EstebanOcon:

BWT Alpine F1 Team and I have agreed together to part ways at the end of the 2024 F1 season.

The Enstone-Viry family has played a significant part in my life, dating back to my Lotus junior programme days. I feel incredibly lucky and privileged to have achieved the things I did with this team, from my first podium to my first win in Formula 1. These achievements truly were dreams come true.  

I’ve crossed paths with so many inspiring individuals in my time here and there are too many people to thank for their hard work, passion, and dedication to the cause. But also for their kindness and support I received over the years. We had many ups and certainly some downs, but all I can say is that it was an honour racing alongside you, whether you were at the factories or trackside.

Still, there is a long way to go this season and my focus and energy is 100% dedicated to this team and the work we need to do together to move forward and maximise our results on track.

Like many drivers this season, a lot has been said about my future beyond 2024. News will be announced in due course.

Un petit mot en français à tous les supporters tricolores qui ont été derrière moi et cette équipe depuis toutes ces années. Merci infiniment pour votre soutien et votre amour, j'espère pouvoir continuer à vous rendre fiers.

[toffee-and-tandoori]

.

[wethotcrazy]

CAN'T CONTROL IT

pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem! Driver! Reader

word count: 739

just something a little short and sweet for franco colapinto. also i think the can't control their mouth and can't control their face would suit him well?! idk bro

The F1 social media team had a new favorite hobby: catching YN's reactions to everything Franco Colapinto did.

It started during pre-season testing in Bahrain. Franco, fresh in his Williams racing suit, had spun on his installation lap – a rookie mistake that had the paddock chuckling. The TV director, whether by instinct or divine intervention, cut immediately to YN in the Alpine garage.

Her expression was poetry in motion: eyes rolling skyward, lips pressed together to suppress a smile, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I can't believe this" and "that's my idiot" in one fluid movement.

The clip went viral within hours.

"Have you seen this?" Franco bounded into the Alpine hospitality area, phone already extended. "'Every Time YN Dies Inside Watching Franco Colapinto: Testing Edition' – they even put sad violin music over your faces!"

YN didn't need to look. She'd already seen the compilation – a masterfully edited collection of her various reactions to Franco's testing adventures. Her personal favorite was the slow-motion zoom on her face when he'd described his first F1 car as "spicy."

"I'm starting to think you do these things on purpose," she muttered, but her treacherous face was already softening at his enthusiasm.

"Maybe I just like seeing your reactions," he winked, dropping into the seat beside her. "Remember in F3 when you said your face wasn't that expressive?"

"Remember in F2 when you said you'd learned to think before speaking?"

His laugh echoed through the hospitality area. "Some things never change, no?"

The Australian GP brought new material for the ever-growing collection of "YN Can't Control Her Face" content. As Alpine's reserve driver, she was in the garage when Franco scored his first F1 points – a remarkable P8 in a chaotic race.

His radio message was pure, unfiltered Franco: "P8! P8! YN, are you watching? Better than that time in F2 when you said I'd never score points because I was too busy talking!"

The cameras found her instantly: pride blooming across her features before she could school them into professional neutrality.

"Every time they show your face, the comments explode," Esteban teased later. "I think you've got more screen time than some of the actual drivers."

YN groaned. "Don't remind me. Someone made a TikTok trend out of my different 'Franco Reactions.'"

"At least you're not 'Can't Control His Mouth' Colapinto," Pierre chimed in. "Did you hear him in the press pen? He spent five minutes explaining how you once bet him he couldn't qualify top 10 without talking on team radio."

"Did he mention he lost that bet?"

"No, but your face when they asked you about it said everything."

Monaco was where things reached new heights. Franco, running in P6 during practice, had been providing commentary that somehow always circled back to YN:

"YN's watching, no? Tell her this is how you take the hairpin properly—" Franco spoke through team radio confidently before scraping through the hairpin.  "Ah. Maybe not like that."

The camera cuts to YN's perfect face-palm, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I knew it" and "why am I even surprised" in one swift motion.

The resulting clip went viral on Tiktok and became F1's most-watched social media post of the weekend.

"You know what I think?" Franco asked one evening, as they shared takeaway in the quiet of the paddock after everyone else had left. The cameras were finally off, but YN's face was as expressive as ever in the dim light.

"That's a dangerous start to any conversation with you."

He grinned, nudging her shoulder. "I think you like that I can't control my mouth."

"And what makes you say that?" she asked, trying and failing to keep her expression neutral.

"Because every time I talk about you, you make this face – like you're trying not to smile but can't help it. It's my favorite one."

"I do not have a special face for when you talk about me."

"Si, you do! You're making it right now!"

She threw a napkin at him, but her smile – soft and genuine and completely uncontrolled – gave her away.

The next day, during the drivers' briefing, Alex caught Franco staring at YN with an expression that mirrored all of hers – soft and fond and entirely unguarded.

The photo went viral with the caption: "Looks like neither of them can control anything anymore 💕"

[macaiv]

Source: Twitter

esteban ocon talking about the car performance on his side after austin gp

via the-race.com

[httpsserene]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥 - 𝐥𝐬. 𝟏𝟖 | 𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝟒𝟎𝟒: 𝐏𝐍𝐅 |

𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝟒𝟎𝟒: 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

summary: if you love her, you have to let her go. who the hell came up with that? content warning: vacation romance. profanity. a couple of suggestive lines. one line of dark humor (toaster bath). fluff and angst. sibling dynamics (bullying). friendship. hard launch (but sad). emotional support esteban ocon (shrugs). heartbreak. this might count as getting together/breaking up. pairing: lance stroll x fem!black!reader

from serene: i feel like i have to reiterate that this does have a happy ending (in the next part). i think my tags are over dramatic asl but, i’m not trying to getting jumped in my inbox for miss tagging anything. also, i know lance isn’t a “popular driver” (whatever that fuckin means) but i’m in love with this smau, and i will not be accepting any judgement xxx

⌕ prev | join taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents | series toc | next ↻

instagram • ynplays • december 14th • cozy in a cabin ⚑

liked by valkyrae, yourbestie, segagenesisthedawg, and 43,879 others

ynplays: falling love with canada🇨🇦🍁🏒⛸️🌨️

tagged yourbestie, segagenesisthedawg, nhl

view comments

ynplays: sega cries after he walks us back to our room at night and leaves 😫

➥ user1: she’s just a liddol girl 🥹

➥ user2: the puppy has spoken u have to keep him i don’t make the rules 🤷🏿‍♀️

➥ user3: so...you have no choice but to run away with him into the sunset.

yoursister: booooo we get it you've been brainwashed by a canadian man 🙄🙄🙄

➥ ynplays: when was the last time you smiled today

➥ yoursister: it's difficult when ALL you do is yap about your crush on this hockey-core man 🤢

➥ ynplays: he gives himbo hockey player IM TELLNG YOU !!!

➥ user4: so he's canadian 😶

user5: his name starts with an L, he's approx 6'0, is brunette with brown eyes, and he's canadian with hockey player vibes👐🏻

➥ user6: i could walk two (2) steps outside of my house in ottawa and i'd run into a man who fits this description 😭😭

➥ user7: he sounds like every other bitch???

➥ user8: let's go through every minor and major hockey league roster again

➥ yourfriend1: "again?" who TF has time for that

user9: tagging THE nhl is crazy 💀

➥ user8: i'm telling you he's a hockey player

➥ user10: idk man he doesn't look like a hockey build in either of these photos🤔

igstory • yoursister uploaded!

[caption1; me and sis] [caption2; fuck. i guess they're kinda cute together 😒]

yourfriend2: did you see them doing snow angels together 🥺🥺☹️ yourfriend2: that had me smiling ngl...they're adorable yoursister: yeah, i'm just happy there's no red flags she's ignoring, he seems like a genuine dude

user11: do you improve of this lance? 6'0, brown eyes, brunette, canadian hockey player 🙂 yoursister: uhh i fear for his life,,are u gonna put a hit on him or smth yoursister: also he is not a hockey player lol user11: oh🫣 yoursister: i'm pretty sure he's like a car engineer or smth? i think i heard him say that

twitter • december 16th

instagram • ynplays • december 16th • sanctuary ⚑

liked by nhl, yoursister, yourbestie, yourmom, and 42,313 others

ynplays: i don't want to leave.

view comments

nhl: not me crying 😩 - admin

➥ user12: huh

➥ user13: nhl admin relatable

yourbestie: aw babe. enjoy your last five days here :)

➥ ynplays: i only have five days left 😟

➥ yourfriend1: oh girlie...it'll be alright

➥ yourfriend2: i always hate this part of the vacation

yoursister: please ask lance if he's willing to take you off my hands. permanently preferably.

➥ ynplays: are you familiar with the term sympathy?

➥ yoursister: oh you're sad for real

➥ yoursister: 😕 therapy session in the hot tub now ladies

➥ user14: this is depressing me

user15: hey, you can just elope? i don't think you've added that to your toolbox yet

➥ ynplays: too sad to even consider it rn

➥ ynplays: nvm he invited me to his cabin later 👅✌🏽

➥ user15: use protection 🙂‍↔️

user16: i feel like this should have a sensitive content warning

➥ user17: my day is ruined

➥ user18: and my disappointment is immeasurable

➥ user19: THERES 104 DAYS OF SUMMER VACATION🗣️🔊

➥ user20: read the room man @/user19

twitter • ynplays • december 21st

instagram • lancestroll • december 24th

liked by estebanocon, chloestroll, astonmartinf1, and 2,109,764 others

lancestroll: winter break has never felt so short. i missed you the second you stepped away from me. happy holidays, baby.

tagged ynplays

view comments

estebanocon: it’ll get better eventually mate ❤️‍🩹 believe it or not

➥ lancestroll: finding it hard to believe rn

chloestroll: come have some hot cocoa with me

➥ lancestroll: yn liked hot cocoa

➥ scottyjames31: oh mate…

➥ user21: okay, i'm concerned for my health. there's some sort of clear liquid leaking from my eyes

➥ user22: FUCK man this is sad 😕

astonmartinf1: chin up lance - admin

➥ alpinef1team: feeling for you mate - admin

➥ mercedesamgf1: sad it ended up like this for you lance - admin

➥ user23: the f1 teams are assembling like the avengers in infinity war for this

➥ user24: an unforgettable day in f1 history

yourmom: fix this. liked by lancestroll

➥ user25: w mama 🤩

➥ user26: tell him ma'am ‼️‼️

yourbestie: thank you for being good to her when you had her

➥ lancestroll: don't thank me for that.

➥ user27: cooking up my toaster bath actually

user30: well this is not the hard launch i wanted to confirm our theory.

➥ user31: brb about to create them in the sims and make them get married and have 6 children, sega, two cats and let them get old together

➥ user: realest cure for heartbreak

user28: no way they decided not being together at all is worse than being long distance

➥ yoursister: that's what i sad but nobody listens to me

➥ user28: why'd they do it???

➥ yoursister: my sister can be incredibly stupid about returned feelings. and for some reason she chose now to "protect her heart"

➥ user29: she deserves her happy ending and needs to allow herself to have it 😭😭😭

twitter • ynplays • december 25th

imessage • lance -> yn

© httpsserene 2024

[vivwritesfics]

Everybody Wants To Rule The World

Chapter One - Criminal

Oscar Piastri worked for a criminal organisation. It wasn't the life he wanted, wasn't the life he had chosen for himself. But, like those before him, he didn't have any other choice.

He was just a rookie in the Verstappen organisation. He got stuck with the shitty jobs, like watching over Verstappens latest intake, a petty criminal who makes stealing cars look hot.

1.9K

Warnings: Mentions of drugs

Series Masterlist

In the early hours of the morning, when the sun was painting the sky of the city pink, Alex Albon and Esteban Ocon had the biggest bag of cocaine either of them had ever seen. The two rarely delt with narcotics for their boss, but tonight he had a special job for the two of them.

Alex kept watch as Esteban, whose body was longer and thinner, worked his way beneath the car. They used the car jack to raise it slightly as Esteban got beneath and stuck the cocaine to the bottom of the car.

Who did this car belong to? Well that doesn't matter. Not for now, anyway.

Giggling, the two took off, driving back to their bosses head quarters.

In this same part of the city, a girl was running from the blue and red flashing lights. That was the problem when you steal cars, you always have to be on the lookout for the polite.

Y/N L/N happened upon this car with the cocaine stuck to the bottom of it. He had maybe a minute before the police car caught up to her. A minute to get the car open and a minute to drive away.

She got the car open easily. It was old, a classic. The owner would be sad to see it go, but that wasn't something she could afford to think about.

Pulling her hat from her head she worked about hot wiring the car and tuned the radio to her liking. Twenty five seconds until the police caught up with her.

The radio was also old, as old as the car. It was going to take her some time before she found the right station.

At least, the end of Rick Astleys 'Never Gonna Give You Up' played and Tears For Fears 'Everybody Wants to Rule The World' began. Y/N grinned as she put the car into gear and floored it, heading towards the outskirts of the city.

She had to lose the cops before she returned to her boss. If she brought the police to his door, she'd never hear the end of it. Or her blood would be spilt. There was no telling.

Y/N managed to get away from the cops. Usually they'd give up and she could drive away, unscathed. But tonight was different. Tonight they weren't giving up.

"Fucking pigs," she muttered as she turned down an alleyway, trying to conceal herself and the car. She cringed as its sides scraped against the walls of the buildings it was squashed between. At least it would be harder to identify now.

But she had fucked it. She went to turn left down the alleyway, only to find herself blocked by a wall. A fucking wall. She was done for, screwed, and in so much trouble.

The police cars pulled in behind her. They had the sense not to follow her down the alleyway and get themselves stuck. Instead, they pulled out their guns and pointed them at the girl in the car, demanding she exit the vehicle.

Y/N wound down the car window. "I can't get the door open!" She called, hoping the police heard her. "So I'm going to break the back window and climb out that way, okay?"

She hasn't a hardened criminal, not in the way that mattered. She'd never had a run in with the police before and she didn't quite know what to do. So, she did as her father had taught her and remained calm and collected. Show them you mean no harm and they won't harm you.

She waited for confirmation from the police office closest to the car before climbing into the back of the car and kicking at the back window. It was no easy task, getting the back window separated from the car. It was a few good kicked before the sheet of glass fell away, allowing her to climb from the car with her hands up.

She was cuffed, placed in the back of a police car and taken to the station while the owner of the car was contacted. They took the cocaine from the car and drove Y/N to the station.

"There's something wrong with your car," she tried to say to the police officers, able to tell from the sound alone. But they weren't having any of it. They shut her up and continued driving to the station.

At the station they placed her in the holding cell. Prostitutes and other criminals surrounded her as she sat on the bench and closed her eyes. She just stole a car, she'd be out of here in no time.

But suddenly a police officer called her name. She opened her eyes and walked over to the door of the holding cell, walking past the petty thieves and flashers.

An officer grabbed her arm and marched her over to his desk. He pushed her into a chair and cuffed her hand to the arm. "So," he began as he sat on the other side of the desk. "Where did you get the coke?"

"Coke?" Y/N asked as she tried sit forward.

The officer let out a sigh. "You know, blow, bump, nose candy, sniff, snow, white rock."

"Hey now, I don't fuck with drugs," she called, slumping back in the chair. "If there was cocaine on that car, it was there before I got to it," she said.

The officer let out another sigh. He uncuffed her from the chair and marched her back to the holding cell. He threw her in locking the door behind her. If she wasn't going to talk, she could rot in there.

But she wasn't going to rot in there. The arresting officer suddenly got a phone call that he rushed to answer. The number was withheld and he knew exactly who it was.

The voice on the other end of the phone was soft, the accent unrecognisable. The voice maybe have been soft, but the officer still did exactly what he said.

"Yes, sir," he said, listening to the person. "Right away, sir."

The person on the other end of the phone hung up and the officer stretched out his limbs. This was maybe his least favourite part of the job, having to let the criminals go because the most powerful man in the city commanded it.

The officer opened the holding cell and grabbed a hold of the girl he had just arrested. He held her arm, his grip bruising as he dragged her out of the holding cell. "Your charges have been taken care of," he grumbled as he marched her out out the precinct, around to the back.

Still holding her arm, he placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

A black van, which had previously been inconspicuously parked in the corner of the parking lot, rumbled to life. The engine was old, clearly, but it sounded amazing. The door slid open and three men, all in pristine suits jumped out. One strode over, a black sack in his hands.

The two others circled around her, taking her from the officer. The officer said nothing and quickly rushed back inside. The two men grabbed her hands and wormed together to tie them behind her back. The bindings were tight, cutting into her skin. But she knew better then to panic.

"Sorry about this," said the third man, standing in front of her. Y/N had just about enough time to study his face, his dark eyes, the moles on his face, his round cheeks ans pillowy lips. His hair, which parted down the middle, soft and fluffy and shiny.

She shrugged her shoulders and he placed the bag over her head.

There was no point fighting them as they walked her to the van, she'd seen their guns the moment they'd jumped out of the van. The two that had tied her hands sat behind her as the pretty one, the one who had placed the bag over her head climbed into the driver's seat.

He always drove, no matter the job. It was what he loved, what he was good at, what kept him calm.

The drive wasn't very long. Or, it hadn't seemed long to the captive, who was trying her best to keep time using the songs playing on the radio. They weren't out of the city, or, they weren't very far outside of it.

"Oh, turn this one up," she said, her words muffled, and the driver did just that, twisting the knob attached to the radio to turn up the volume.

Before too long the driver killed the engine and the sliding door to the van was thrown open. Y/N was dragged to her feet, one man holding each arm, and walked forward. She had no idea where she was or where she was going. The only indicator that she had walked into a building was the stale air, the buzz of the lights overhead and the feeling of the floor beneath her feet. These were the sorts of things you had to learn to survive.

She went into a room, her feet hitting the metal threshold strip that sat between rooms, and was sat in a chair.

The bindings were pulled from her hands and the bag from her head. She blinked quickly, the light flooding into her eyes all too bright.

But then she looked around, looking at the art on the walls surrounding her, at the table in front of her, at the man on the other side of that table.

She knew who she was in an instant, her heart pounding in her chest. His hair was a dirty blonde, combed back out of his face, and the beginnings of a beard surrounded his mouth. His eyes were a little far apart, but it didn't look bad on him. No, he was a very handsome man. Dangerous and terrifying, but handsome.

"You stole from me." That was the first thing his said.

Y/N couldn't stop her eyes from going wide. Him. She wasn't supposed to steal from him. The one rule she had for this job was don't steal from him. If she had known the car belonged to him, she would have run in the other direction. But it was too late now.

"I'm impressed. Nobody has ever had the balls to steal from me before. What makes you different?" He leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckles. "

Y/N went to push her chair back, but a hand, covered in rings, settled on her shoulder and squeezed. She didn't dare turn to see who was behind her. "I swear, I didn't know it was you're car."

"Don't you know stealing is wrong?" The man in front of her narrowed his eyes. "As soon as the car was on the move, we watched you. That was a pretty good drive, until you fucked up."

Verstappen sat up a little straighter. He sat back and waited, waited for her to say something.

Truth be told, Y/N was a little lost for words. What was he playing at? Did he know who she was?

Suddenly, Verstappen stood up. He signalled for her to stand up and the person behind her pulled her to her feet and pushed her after his boss.

They took her through the halls of a house, with the same amount of pretty art. Verstappen didn't so much as glance at the art as they walked past, and she had a feeling that it wasn't his taste. The man behind her kept his ringed hand on her shoulder as he steered her after Verstappen.

They walked her into a garage and stopped her in the doorway. "Okay," said Verstappen, gesturing to the plethora of cars in front of him. They were all gorgeous cars, better than anything Y/N had ever stolen before. Super cars, classic cars, Verstappen had them all.

"Show me what you got."

TAGLIST (OPEN): @biancathecool @graciewrote

[piasargeant]

Quick rant but I've been holding this in for too long. It's long so if you don't wanna hear me rant about Logan Sargeant and the shit he endured, just keep scrolling. Another warning, it is dramatic and I spill how I've been feeling these past few months, so just a heads up it's a lot to process and VERY dramatic so again I'm sorry if it's too much.

What pissed me off about Logan getting dropped is not just that he got dropped, but the way Williams handled it. How are you going to claim you are still going to support Logan in his racing career, but can't even have the decency to announce him being dropped BEFORE announcing who is replacing him. Hell, even your goodbye post was dreadful to read. Not even caring enough to put a simple paragraph. It's sad. Fucking Alex Albon and DURACELL gave him a better goodbye than that, giving him a whole post and a paragraph or more to wish him well, and Alex actually talked about him during a press conference, and it actually made me cry it was so well worded. But even JAMES VOWLES, THE TEAM PRINCIPLE, who said he saw something in Logan, said he has reached a limit to what he can achieve. You were supposed to be the one person who is supposed to help build his confidence, but you only tore him down. It's disgusting.

Also how the rest of the grid treated him. There were very few drivers that followed him on Instagram, so that's just one thing that shows how outcast-ed he was. And for what? Because he is American? Who knows, but it's just not ok. I don't have much to say on this for now because it's not a big deal, just a bit sad in my opinion.

Now onto Franco, I must make it clear that I do not have anything against him. He is extremely talented and seems like a very nice person, and I can see him having a bright future in F1, if given the chance. Now, that being said, the comparison to the way Franco is being treated to the way Logan was treated is genuinely ridiculous. For example, Logan crashes, he deserves to be taken out of the sport or have his seat revoked. Franco crashes, it's automatically the cars fault, and it's not fair to him that the car is so bad. Tell me, how does that make any sense?? For Logan, it's always his fault, but for Franco, it's the car. It's unfair. When the announcement came out that he was being dropped, there were little-to-no comments from any drivers on the grid that were wishing him well. But when Franco was announced?? That's a whole other story. So many drivers welcomed him to the grid. And I mean so many. There were quite a few. The amount of comments on the Williams posts whenever he crashes are always kind and saying the car is shit, but the comments on when Logan crashed?? Every single comment was saying that he should be dropped and how shit he was. How is that fair??

When Daniel got dropped, every single driver was in the comments wishing him well and showing him support, and again, I understand why because Daniel was in the sport for YEARS and everyone loved him and made such an impact in the sport, and I personally love him, he is in my top three favorite drivers, but its just common courtesy to wish someone well even though you may not know then or they were not there for long, because the comparison to Daniel's comment section and Logan's comment section is INSANE. Again, I get Daniel is more popular and well known and loved, but its still crazy to me and it might just be me who thinks that, but I don't care. I will be honest, every driver drop that occured this season was so shit, it's sad. How are you going to be a whole ass adult in an ADULT SPORT and not know human decency?? For Logan, Daniel, AND Esteban, the whole thing was handled so poorly. Alpine, why drop a driver on the LAST RACE OF THE SEASON?? Like what??

I just watched a video of when Logan was talking about how the number 3 was (obviously) taken when coming into F1, and the comment section was WILD. They were hating on him for just saying the number was taken and how he had used that number for other series, but the comments were bashing him and calling him names (saw someone call him a 'trumpie' and it's just like ??? wtf when has he ever said who he supports in the election like?? I'm pretty sure (by contract) he is not allowed to talk about polictics so idk where they got that but whatever ig). I get some people may think he isn't a good driver but he has never EVER shown that he was ever a bad person, so if you hate him than you actually don't have a reason too.

I might be going a bit over board and acting dramatic but it genuinely crushes me seeing how poorly he was treated in the sport. BUT I am so happy to see him doing so much better and thriving now that he doesn't have to deal with the shitty treatment he endured in F1, and now people can see that it wasn't Logan's fault, but that the car is just shit, seeing how horribly the car has performed these last few months.

Again, sorry that this is so long, everything just sorta snapped from being on tik tok too much, and I just couldn't anymore. Sorry if this is too dramatic because I really had to get my point across 😭😭 But anyway this is a Logan Sargeant, Oscar Piastri, Alex Albon, and Duracell appreciation post. Thank you for showing Logan that you care and actually appreciate him. Thank you so much 💗 Logan, I am so excited to see you race in the Le Mans series, and hope to see you even more in the future in Indycar!! 💙💙

[mirrorball-leclerc]

the blue - part ten

series masterlist // previous

LAS VEGAS 2023

ameliaholland posted new stories

ivy is adjusting well to the travel life well. pov: you've just had a rundown by lando norris on how charles is slowly losing his mental stability. don't worry! he's fine! still mentally stable but on his last limb polite cat oscaroo strikes again! photo from this morning's travels

tom holland okay, you guys can't be mad at me..

max verstappen thomas i swear to god- logan sargeant if this spider-bitch says harrison tagged along, we are not responsible for yuki. tom holland okay, well, i guess i'll die.

yuki tsunoda YOUR SISTER CRIED ON STAGED BECAUSE OF HIM! AND YOU JUST BROUGHT HIM ALONG??

sam holland i told him not too but he said, and i quote, "he's my best friend. i can't just not bring him." lando norris YOU COULD NOT BRING HIM?

george russell he's going to get killed.

charles leclerc we won't be responsible for yuki or max.

max verstappen i can take him

zendaya there is too much testosterone here

amelia holland OH I HAVE A SOLUTION!

amelia holland added 4 people

lily muni he why?

amelia holland you try saying anything against the zendaya alexandra saint mleux valid. very valid.

george russell how did you get my girlfriend's number?

carmen mundt someone was very drunk after her show in london that he forgot i was with him

pierre gasly you fucking idiot

kika gomes said the idiot to the other idiot

pierre gasly how am i an idiot?

esteban ocon you tried to "out spider-man" tom last week when you were drunk. charles leclerc and you almost ran into oncoming traffic. daniel ricciardo if it weren't for me you'd be dead.

lily muni he why were we added?

alex albon TOM INVITED HARRISON TO VEGAS!

kika gomes well that's stupid.

alexandra saint mleux your sister cried because of him?

tom holland you don't get it! he was sad and i can't say no to him! he's my best friend! i will get him to apologize to amelia.

amelia holland i'm not talking to him. i have nothing to talk to him about.

oscar piastri he's a dickhead. he's never going to apologize.

lando norris oscar jack piastri, cursing? that's a new one. someone call sky sports!

logan sargeant you're talking about the guy who grew up with mark webber. he's said worse. trust me.

oscar piastri shut up?

harry holland YOU INVITED THE SECOND STRING LOSER?

kika gomes fitting name. lily muni he it's what she called him in a song. i guess it stuck. zendaya he deserves it

harry holland thomas, we are having words.

sam holland and i'm calling paddy.

tuwaine oh shit just got real.

ameliaholland vegas, baby!

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren

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landonorris when will i get a post for myself? i'm the best friend?

↳ ameliaholland when you finally get a race win...

↳ landonorris i hate you

username amelia holland, certified oscar piastri simp

tomholland2013 can't believe you ditched us to hang out with oscar

↳ ameliaholland can't believe you invited apple.

↳ lilymhe she's right thomas. how could you.

↳ maxverstappen1 can't believe spider-man would betray us this way

↳ charles_leclerc traitor

↳ yukitsunoda0511 liar.

↳ tomholland2013 I GET IT!

↳ ameliaholland but do you?

↳ francesca.cgomes clearly he doesn't.

username what on earth is happening in the comments?

username i don't know but they're all upset with tom

username amelia instagram is all just pictures of oscar

↳ username she's in love! let's leave her alone!

↳ username oh don't get me wrong. i love it. it's adorable

amelia holland max invited us out before free practice tomorrow and after the opening ceremony

tom holland I'M GAME!

zendaya sounds like fun.

sam holland count me in!

tuwaine a chance to party with the max verstappen and daniel ricciardo, count me in!

harry holland i'm in

harrison osterfield i don't think your friends like me very much

amelia holland they don't but max said to invite you anyways. something about water under the troll?

amelia holland i think he meant water under the bridge?

amelia holland pierre also said something about second string loser buying the first round of drinks.

harrison osterfield alright. i'll go

amelia holland you can leave if you feel uncomfortable at any point

harrison osterfield okay

ABU DHABI 2023

ameliaholland in honor of the end of the 2023 season, i give you one final photo dump.

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, tomholland2013

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oscarpiastri 🧡🧡

↳ ameliaholland 🧡🧡

username mama y papa!!

charles_leclerc this is charles leclerc erasure!

↳ alex_albon i agree this is erasure of the most important people in her life!

↳ ameliawinters as opposed to my boyfriend and brother?

↳ georgerussell63 of course!

username i need to find someone who looks at me the way oscar looks at amelia.

lilymhe not enough amelia content. 3/10.

↳ ameliaholland i'm sorry love, i'll do better next time.

yukitsunoda0511 0/10 no yuki content. every photo dump must include a picture of me.

↳ ameliaholland apologizes yuki. i'll include one next time.

harrisonosterfield where is the cat's seatbelt??

↳ oscarpiastri she said she didn't need one.

↳ harrisonosterfield you're being a very irresponsible father mr.piastri

↳ oscarpiastri i am simply listening to what my daughter wants mr.osterfield

↳ username talk about a friendship i never saw coming

username and to think we started the season with single oscar and we're ending it with oscar dating THE amelia holland!!

username ivy lives a better life than me.

username they're giving high school sweethearts.

username your honor, i love them

taglist: @six-call @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @woozartss @dear-fifi @tygecjjd @cataf1 @nothaqks @caipng @nataliambc @formulaal @lichterfee @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @hobiismyhopeu @melissayalene @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @nichmeddar @namgification @anniemae299 @octopussesarecool @jensonsonlybutton @ragioniera @anytimeanywherebitch-blog @trouble-sistar @hwalllllllelujah

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! in case you couldn't tell, i don't how to end stories, so this is my attempt at one. i definitely didn't procrastinate this because i didn't want to be finished with this story. not at all. but stick around and wait for the bonus chapters because this story isn't quite over yet.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife reader? I've an ideas : Person A and person B get asked the question of when the other person fell in love. person B's face lights up with mischief and begins to tell the most embarrassing story ever while person A has their head in their hands. You decide who is who. Just something fluff and fun. Thanks!!

The night we first met - James Vowles x StrategistWife! Reader

Plot: You are being interviewed for a Podcast that you and James were asked to do ahead of the 2025 season an get asked about how you guys first ever met.

Credit to jamesvowles for the GIF

"Here today, we've got two incredible people in the motorsport world and may i say one of the most iconic couples in motorsport with us on the Podcast. We're so thrilled that they are here, James Vowles and Y/N Vowles!" the interviewer exclaims and you both smile to the boys who'd invited you onto their podcast.

"Hello, how are you boys?" you smile at them kindly. You'd actually watched this specific F1 podcast for a while so when you saw a DM from them you begged James to come on with you.

"We are good, happy to have you here!" The other interviewer exclaims and smiles back at both of you.

"So, lets start with Y/N, your career into motorsports has been a bit of a roller-coaster right? Similar to your husbands actually!" he smiles looking at his card of notes and you smile before looking over at James.

"Well I unlike most I think who end up where I am now started actually driving. I did karting from ages of four to fifteen before i took part in British Single Seater which i ended up winning" you smile before looking down and sighing.

The boys pulled up a picture of you on the screen behind you, from 1997 when you were around 13 years old standing on a P1 podium place with a mini trophy in your hand.

They then switched to one which must have been taken in around 2001 when you'd won your first championship in a feeder series to F1.

"And this one taken in 2001 correct and you were 16, and you won here? James, in 2001 as well you'd just made your debut into F1 fresh out of university working for Honda BAR correct?" one of them asks and he nods.

"Yeah, i mean i was fresh out of uni in what then was a standard midfield team. Life was great!" he smiled taking you hand and kissing the back of it.

"So what happened. You should have been in F1 by now surely" he exclaims looking at you making you sigh.

"Well, everyone knows that F1 has always been a sport for the rich, even more a rich mans sport. People like Lewis Hamilton and Esteban Ocon can take the risk when they don't have the funds for it as it's way more likely for a man to be able to do it than a woman"

"My dad always told me I'd never make it and you know like most daughters i believed him and really lost my spark for it! And I think it's so amazing how far forward the sport has come with F1 Academy and the Driver Development Programme, like if I'd had the financial backing of a team then i would have had the confidence to do it" you explain and they both look really sad for you, and it was sad. It was the hardest choice you'd ever made.

"That's so sad, I think i can speak for the large majority of fans when i say you for sure would have been one of the first women win an F1 race!" one of the interviewers says and you just smile, you didn't often like to think what could have been if ... because you'd made your choice and you couldn't change that and right now with the life you had it wasn't something you would ever want to change.

"Yeah, I mean I'm happy with my life now and don't often like to think of it. I have James, I have the kids and my life is incredible and you know maybe if i was in F1 i wouldn't have bumped into James the way I did... and well" you giggle quietly.

"Yeah? How did that happen?" he asks.

"Well..." you start to laugh and James forces his face into his hands out of embarrassment.

"Please don't, it hurts my soul every time you tell this story!" he laughs awkwardly before you just laugh and continue with the story.

"Well it was 2006 and I was set to join Sauber BMW for my placement year in university. Despite no longer driving i still wanted to make my way into F1 and the only way I could now do that was through my brain. Come June 2007 when i was set to leave obviously because the University year worked differently I'd suggested an upgrade that I'd been thinking off all throughout university and it paid off as Sauber were P2 in the constructors by the end of the year" you start to explain.

"2007 in ... I want to say February at pre-season testing was the first time I met James. He was stranded at the track and i offered to drive him back to his hotel and at this point Honda were starting to struggle for money and we were talking about the teams and the possibility of a move for him. I was so concentrated on driving that there was some questions he was asking me twice!" you chuckled making the others all laugh around you.

"As we were about to cross over a intersection, our light had just turned green. I was being cautious because it was dark and there wasn't too many people around and the car behind me bibbed me to get a move on... bare in mind our light is still green and as im crossing a car coming across who had skipped the red light and a car crashed into our front spinning us around so we were facing the other way" you say calmly remembering the incident.

"I was so so embarrassed, even though James was convincing me that it wasn't my fault!"

"And it wasn't, we saw the dashcam footage which circled the internet after the whole altercation" the guy nodded in agreement with James thinking the crash definitely wasn't on you.

"I didn't end up talking to him until I joined back in post graduation with Honda, just before they turned to Brawn and I'd just finished my masters! in 2008"

"So why were you wanting to join a team that was severely financially struggling ..." one of them asks.

"Well, what can i say I've always liked an underdog. It was one of the teams i was trusted to be put in a high enough position without the experience. It was for a lower salary but i though we could really really do something"

"You were a massive part in the £1 team winning the championship correct?" he asks and you blush making James lightly elbow you.

"Stop!" you laugh at him.

"You were though, you pushed us through many months of hardship where we thought we weren't going to survive!" James admits, having also worked in Brawn.

"So now that you were back together what happened?" he asks and you looked over at him.

"Oh we argued all the time, we really got on Ross' last nerve!" you laugh and James nods in agreement.

"He was chief strategist and i was an engineer, would we blame each other and you'd often see us neck to neck in the paddock when something went wrong" you giggled.

"Yeah thats where the iconic picture of Jenson Button holding you back as your trying too ... I don't even know what you were trying to do honesty" he chuckles looking at the picture making you both chuckle.

"I think she was trying to strangle me... and now that we are married I can for sure tell you guys this time was defiantly my fault" he nods looking down a little bit.

"So how did you guys end up dating. You started dating after Mercedes overtook Brawn and you guys both remained there correct?" he asks and you both nod.

"I think, as much as we enjoyed our time at Brawn there was so much anxiety and pressure on and off track... and I think there was a lot of tensions" James says and you nod.

"I'd always looked up to James but i was still pretty embarrassed about the whole car crash incident and with all of the stress in the team I think for me it just turned into a self defence mechanism..." you grin, knowing this was the bit where James always got embarrassed.

"We were at the celebrations in Abu Dhabi and when we were celebrating knowing we'd one James ... kissed me ... on the lips and it was so random and quick. He pulled back looking so awkward and for a few moments was panicked ... i still don't know why!" you laugh looking over at him.

"Thought you were gonna report me to HR... but I'd had feelings for you since the car accident and I never stopped thinking about you even in our loss of contact..." he smiles pulling you into a small forehead kiss.

"Woah, thats so crazy we never knew there was a whole story since what 2007 behind the pair of you!" the interviewer smiles and you nod.

"Yeah we got married in 2016... the year i became Nico's race engineer as a promotion. Massive year too where we won constructors and drivers. I don't think Lewis spoke to me for a whole year after that" you laugh remember 2016 to 2017 being awkward.

"Is that what made you make the move later on?" he asks, once Nico left you became Valterri's race engineer when he joined.

"Not at all, I loved my time at Mercedes but there were other challenges out there for me. James understood that and once i saw Lando join McLaren i knew there was a good thing starting there. It was a British brand so you know it wouldn't effect me, or the anyone else so it was the perfect opportunity and i was at the same level as James so it was like we were competing" you laugh.

"And you became chief strategist, which is so so impressive you've really had the incredible career haven't you?"

"You know, I don't know where i'd be if it wasn't for the night we first me" you say looking over at James tears welling in your eyes a little. He drove you to be better at your job... he and the life you'd created with his was the most important thing ever to you.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[joaoista]

This Alpine podium feels like when your parents have announced to you that they're going to divorce because the situation is unsustainable, so they take you on one last family trip and you have such a good time from start to finish that now you don't want them to separate, even though you know it's for the best 😭😭😭

Although I'm sad about the bad race of 814 and 5516, I'm more than happy about Alpine's double podium. After having seen them crawl since the beginning of the season and seeing everything was complicated for them, it's like a breath of clean air that they have reached so high. Despite all the bad, there will always be something good to come. Seeing the happiness in Esteban broke me. He's one of my favorite drivers and seeing him succeed will always be a pleasure for me. ALLEZ ALPINE, ALLEZ ESTEBAN, ALLEZ PIERRE, ALLEZ, ALLEZ!!! 💙🩷✨

[Low res image because it was the only thing that gave me time to screenshot, sorry (*￣▽￣)b]

[graveltrip]

Honestly I don't really care about the Monza result, I knew this track would be shit for Alpine, (didn't expect it to be this bad, but whatever), I just want Esteban to finally have a good weekend in Singapore and a good race on his birthday. And hopefully from there to start building some momentum, because the last few months have been a painful watch.

[ctimenefic]

just had to write this out of my brain, I'm sorry pierresteban lorekeepers if I have fucked up the dynamic, I'll go back to my corner at once

2k of post-Brazil stuff tentatively titled something like slow lane, fast lane, parallel lines

Pierre didn’t pack a podium-worthy outfit for the triple header. Certainly not for Brazil. A party outfit, sure, in case Charles did well – that’s still fucked, a crumpled bundle rank with sweat at the bottom of one of his cases, shipped back home without him two weeks ago after Austin. He hadn’t seen this coming.

No one had seen this coming. 

He has to settle for a creased button up, undone so far the team will be able to see his heart still thudding against his ribs, hours after the last bubbles swirled away into the standing water on the track. It’ll do; he tries to smoulder into the mirror, but he can’t stop smiling. It’s just going to get soaked with sweat anyway, in whatever bar backroom they’ve secured. It was Harriet, he heard, shaking with hope from the moment the red flag came, ringing round Sao Paulo venues with broken Portuguese and her heart in her mouth.

It is strange, being alone for this clutch of minutes, to shower and shave and press cologne against his skin like anointing oil. The team had been all around him the moment he was out of the car, all the way to the hotel. Esteban next to him for hours, hip to hip. Pierre had been warm, despite the rain, the perpetual grey of track and sky.

The shirt is not so white that he’ll look filthy, later, if he’s touched. He undoes another button, just in case. Kiki said, once - if he won, and she wasn’t there. Then it was fine. She’d been joking, maybe, but he hadn’t pressed her. There are many beautiful men and women in Brazil. 

He goes down to the lobby early, already sick of the quiet. He wants the roar back, the force of it against his skin. He wants hands on his back, fingers on his neck, in his hair. Three girls from the team are huddled waiting for a taxi, by the doors, but they hover six inches away now, like without their uniforms he’s unsafe to clasp. Apart, again. 

Pierre drifts away, to the spot where the lobby leaks into a bar and - George Russell is there. As out of place as usual, squinting at his phone, folded up in an armchair that’s too low for him. It turns his knees into a ski slope. He only looks up when Pierre gets right up beside him; then he unbends upright, gets halfway to a handshake before he’s gripping Pierre’s shoulder instead. “Good racing, today,” he announces, like he hadn’t said it hours ago, dripping wet and still horribly sincere, all his natural animosities tucked away.

“Thank you,” Pierre replies, automatic. “I did not think Mercedes were slumming here though?” It is a fine hotel, but not so very nice. The lifts are slow. And Mercedes take up space. They have a sponsor deal, he thinks; some foolish video Charles had sent him last year with a string of emoji. 

Russell snorts. “No. Meeting Alex for our sad bastards dinner.”

Of course. Because for Mercedes, fourth is a disappointment. Which trophy did Russell imagine he’d be snatching today? Pierre’s? Max’s? He hopes Alex charges his meal to Russell’s card. 

“I am going out with the team,” Pierre offers. Immediately feels foolish. He meant- the point was to not invite Russell. It is fun, usually, being rude to him, watching his jaw tic. He is very English about it. 

Now, though, he seems unfazed. His eyebrows jump just a little. “I gathered.” 

His gaze drops briefly down the deep V of Pierre’s shirt. It is perhaps not an achievement with the most notorious homosexual on the grid, but still. There’s some satisfaction to it.

“Where are you- oh!”

The cooldown lap had felt a hundred years long, after an impossibly drawn-out race. Pierre had felt like he could count every drop of spray between his and Este’s cars. 

It is a little like that now, watching Russell’s eyes slide over his shoulder, the way his face changes slowly and utterly. Cheekbones lifted, so his eyes get a little smaller, the start of crows feet at the edges. The top of his face starts smiling before the rest catches up. His shoulders roll too, back and down and open. It happens in a blink, and yet it changes the whole shape of him. Like sunlight through clouds. 

Pierre doesn’t need to look round to guess what he’ll say next. “There he is,” Russell adds, regardless. “Have a good evening, Pierre.” He strides off before Pierre can find the right sniff for such an abrupt dismissal. 

He turns to wave at Alex, but he’s already turned back towards the lift, shoulders up around his ears until Russell slings an arm over them. He hears Russell teasing: “Don’t be a lazybones, Albono, you’re on the fourth floor, we can walk it.”

And then they are gone, and the girls from the team come to collect him for the car, and they are squashed up close enough that he does not have to think about it for too long. Just long enough. 

How many people look at him like sunshine? He had friends like that, once. More than one of them, once.

Tonight, he will say something gracious. Tell Esteban he raced better. That Pierre could not have caught him if he tried. (Perhaps not if he tried. Perhaps that is ungracious. Perhaps he should not remind Esteban that he is the better teammate. That he is keeping the team.) He has a whole taxi ride to find the right words, the olive branch that Esteban will not reject, or discard, or ignore.   

They will hug, and it will not be the last time. The Haas is not so bad; that will help. And ten, or twenty years from now, Pierre can walk into a room somewhere in France, some gathering of old men who raced fast cars, and someone will smile to see him. 

It is twenty minutes to Harriet’s bar. By then he can see it; where in windswept Normandy it will be. Snow on the ground and overcast. He will keep most of his hair, he decides, somewhat against the odds; he gives Esteban a little gut but fewer lines, no jowls. Silver in his stubble, but not his hair. Comfortable shoes. Bracelets on their wrists. 

The bar is good, for a last minute get. The staff on the door know his face, gesture him through. There are beautiful people in clusters, grapes on the vine, ready for picking. And on the dancefloor, Alpine, Alpine, Alpine. In the centre of it, Esteban, tall even there. 

There’s a whoop from near the edge of the throng as someone spots him - one of the pit crew, Marc. It spreads, fast, a sea of heads turning his way, a cheer Pierre thought he might not hear again. They tug him in, hands on his shoulders, back, feet already bouncing, the strange wistful sadness in his stomach already lifting as he raises his hands, shouts with joy and-

Esteban looks across to Pierre and smiles like clouds parting.

---

The carpet in the hotel stairwell has a dizzying pattern, geometric but impossible for the eye to follow. Or perhaps only impossible for someone who has been awake for 24 hours now, staring at it in the half-dark of emergency exit signs. But Pierre has to try, has to trace the thick black lines up and left and down over and over, or the choking gluk sounds Esteban is making round his cock will drive him mad. Tip him over ten seconds into the best-worst blowjob of his life. 

They had taken the stairs because it would be quicker than the ancient lifts. Not quick enough, for Esteban. Despite the risk, Pierre does not want to make up the distance. He wants this to last.  

Esteban pulls off for a moment; his smile is a slice of white in the darkness. Pierre doesn’t mean for his hand to drop to his face, thumb along his bottom lip, down his chin, but it does so anyway. He catches Esteban’s spit on his thumbpad; sucks it into his own mouth. There’s salt to it. 

“You are very wet for me,” Esteban murmurs, matter-of-fact, and Pierre gives up on the carpet, shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back into the corner with a thunk. He has been wet all day, drenched in rain and champagne and sweat. What is one more? He can feel it, the way precome rolls down the underside of his dick to Esteban’s fingers, until Este’s tongue drags back over him, a long side up the inches he cannot fit in his hand. 

(“It’s bigger,” he’d said, and Pierre had failed to hide his smirk. He hadn’t made it up, tripod. And Esteban’s hands are bigger now, too.)

His shirt is undone, bunched at his elbows where hands - some familiar, some strange - had dragged it down to trace the shape of his shoulders, the rise and fall of his arm muscles. He’d tugged it back up in the car back, but not enough to stick, not with Este’s long fingers at his neck. It makes him feel on display now, naked from his thighs up, Esteban’s dark head the only modesty he’s been afforded. 

He’s cold where Esteban had slicked down his happy trail with his tongue. It makes him shiver when Este gets back to bobbing back and forth, and his hair whispers over Pierre’s stomach. He has been touching him all night, never a hand off him, and yet Pierre is still so sensitive to each new collision. He can feel Este grin, smug, around him, like he’s noticed. It doesn’t rankle like it should. 

Esteban divebombs down Pierre’s dick again, and he comes before he can get out a warning, choking on thick air, hot and tight in his lungs. Este surfaces seconds later, cracks Pierre’s mouth open with a finger and thumb on his jaw, and feeds him his come in long, loving licks around his teeth. He’s still got his other hand wrapped around Pierre’s softening dick. As Pierre blinks up at him, stupefied, those clever fingers slide to cup his balls instead. A single digit taps at his taint. 

“Dry here,” Esteban muses. Pierre’s mouth falls open, panting. He thinks his come must still be gleaming on his tongue. He can still taste it. “We can fix that.”

And then there is light, crashing through the dark, as the door to the stairwell on the floor above opens, and the perpetual glow of the corridor shines through. Pierre clutches Este to him like cover. The bastard still has all his clothes on, at least, even if Pierre’s bare thighs are obvious either side of his too-skinny frame. 

The shaft of light falls a little to their left, not quite a spotlight. Perhaps they will not be noticed. Perhaps there is still enough luck for one more miracle. 

Soft steps, on the stairs. And then-

“Fuck,” someone hisses from above them. 

Not someone. Familiar. Far too English. 

Someone who should not be in the stairwell of the Williams team hotel at 4am. But. Pierre is in no position to throw stones. His stones are still in Esteban’s large, warm hand. 

Esteban is being no help. He snickers into Pierre’s neck for a moment, so lightly his lips barely leave his skin. Then: “Take the lift, George,” he calls, apparently deciding plausible deniability is for other motherfuckers. 

His voice is a little rough. Well-used. 

Russell, at least, understands how to play the game. It is silent, except for the hurried steps up and away. The whine of the door. 

“Shit,” Pierre groans. Esteban’s finger presses again at the space between his arse and his balls. “Shit,” Pierre says again. It echoes differently. Higher. 

Esteban is snickering again. “Always so dramatic,” he chides. But his hands are gentle as he pulls Pierre’s slacks back up his legs; does up precisely one button on his shirt and slides his palms down the sides like that will make him presentable for the CCTV in the corridor. “Come on, two floors more to mine. I shall have to fuck you in the morning, you are too spooked now.” 

Pierre doesn’t like the needy sound he makes; Esteban’s eyes gleam. He won’t beg for it, but: “When is your flight?” Pierre’s is late, commercial. They book different flights, more often than not. Esteban’s gaze wavers for a second. But only down to Pierre’s mouth, his navel, and back up. 

“The same. It is the same. I asked- said to change it. After. At the track.” Este must bite his lip – his bottom teeth disappear for a moment. Pierre wants the light back, wants to see his face. “We were-” he says the rest with his hands, palm to palm, parallel – two cars moving in sync around a curve. “And in the cooldown. You smiled at me.”

“I smiled?”

Este huffs. It is just enough like his cruel silences to make Pierre feel alert again, hands twitching to grasp a wheel he cannot see.  “I cannot change it back. It will be sorted by now.” 

There is an inch between them that has not been there all night. Esteban’s weight shifts, like he means to step back further. Pierre has to lunge for him, cram their mouths together. They had not done this at the bar. Touching, yes, everywhere they could get away with, but this was different. Private. 

Este whines a little into the kiss. His fingers get grabby again.

“Fuck me now, and later,” Pierre demands against his mouth. Esteban nods; in the dark his lips leave a smear against Pierre’s temple. 

His echo sounds like a promise. “Now and later.”