#mercedes is good at one thing and that is whining

[writergirlll]

can you write something about F1 driver (doesn't matter who) x reader, when they were best friends since childhood, but then suddenly they become strangers. no one knows how, why, and not even themselves, until they meet at the Las Vegas GP after a long absence..

Yeah suree. (I know this is pretty bad, but I wrote this late at night, so sorry, I'll just get better!!)

CHILD MEMORIES /LH44

Lewis Hamilton x reader

I don't know why I put Lewis, but somehow he fit me there..

words: 2k+

You were everything. You brightened up anyone, you laughed at everything, you were the sun of Mercedes. Everyone loved you, you were inseparable.

You and Lewis have been best friends since birth. Your families were close, so you practically had no choice but to hang out with each other. But the decision was great!

You spent whole days together, the same kindergarten, elementary school and then high school. You weren't even separated when Lewis started driving F1 because you followed him to EVERY race. Everyone knew how close you were. Journalists, fans, co-workers of Lewis, your families and you.

That's why you just didn't know what happened. Four months have passed since Lewis' last race. And you haven't seen each other in four months. You didn't know why, you didn't know how.

Lewis stopped texting you, stopped answering your calls, and blocked you pretty much everywhere. You couldn't comment on his posts, you couldn't do anything. When you were waiting for him three days ago after the race, you didn't even get to see him because Russell kicked you out saying that Lewis definitely didn't want to see you.

You didn't understand it at all because you were inseparable and the worst part was that everyone asked you about it. Your whole family asked you, your friends, fans of you and Lewis, or even the press. But you just couldn't answer. You couldn't tell them that you had absolutely no idea what was going on and you wanted to know. You couldn't tell them it was Lewis who cut you off because he would be blamed. And okay, maybe he's ignoring you right now and you don't know why, but you're definitely not a bitch who would betray him and take the blame on him. Yes, he was at fault, but not everyone needs to know that..

And that's why you decided to go to the race in Las Vegas, to find out the answers. You knew it might not be a good idea because you might get fired again and it would be even worse for your psyche, but you had to know the answers. Just had to.

“Y/n no! You're not going to the movies with him” Lewis started yelling at you when you were nine.

,,Why? You are not my mom to order me around. He's nice to me and he doesn't yell at me unlike you" you stuck your tongue out at him and started putting on your mom's lipstick.

"He's not nice. He's just using you" he shook his head and stepped closer to you.

"But he's handsome. You don't know him at all” you mumbled as you concentrated on putting red on your lips.

"I know him. He doesn't do homework at all and his dad is said to have been in prison. He's not nice to me at all" he explained and you turned to him.

“Is it true?” you asked and he nodded quickly, his head almost falling off. "But I already have the tickets and I've made an appointment with him" you whined.

"Then you will come with me and we will write him a letter on the way. He only lives a few minutes away anyway" Lew thought up and you finally went along with his solution.

You took off your lipstick and pulled out a piece of paper and started writing - which looked like a scratch that you weren't going anywhere with. Then you put it in the envelope Lew had made in the meantime, sealed it with saliva, and dropped it in his mailbox when you went to the cinema.

At home, you packed some things, bought tickets and booked a hotel. You told your parents and everyone close to you about your plan and got on the plane.

After a few hours of flight, you finally flew to Las Vegas, called a taxi and went to check into the hotel.

When you did this, you decided it was time to go get answers. You didn't know what you would say to him when you saw him in four months, or if you would see him at all, but you wanted to at least try.

You've been pretty sick these past few months and weeks. You were constantly wondering if it was your fault and what you did wrong. The family told you that it might not be your fault but his, but you just didn't want to believe that Lewis would do something like that. Certainly not the Lewis you knew.

You cried for days and nights and it took you a long time to sort of recover from it. You knew that if Lewis ignored you even today, or didn't let you see him, it would be even worse. But why not give it a try?

You left the hotel straight to the track, where the qualification was supposed to start in an hour so you were hoping to catch Lewis before quali started.

You showed your VIP ticket at the entrance to the track, even though the people at the gate already knew you very well and would have taken you without a ticket, and you headed to the Mercedes garage, more nervous than ever.

You slowly shuffled there, already having several journalists on your neck, which you successfully ignored. And you also successfully ignored the feeling that told you to turn around and not go there at all.

It wasn't long before you saw a boy in a blue jumpsuit who revealed himself to be George Russell. As soon as you approached him, he noticed you and frowned at first before smiling slightly when he saw your expression.

“Y/n hi. You haven't been here long" he said as he walked up to you and gave you a quick hug.

"Yeah well, I didn't have much reason to walk there" you smiled firmly and looked around for Lewis. "Don't you know where Lewis is?" you asked and George's smile immediately disappeared from his face.

"I think he doesn't want to talk to you much. Besides we are going quali in a bit” he said quickly and you frowned.

"I absolutely do not see why you are bodyguarding him, but I want to know the reason why he did this to me. I have a right to know” you got angry.

"I know, I know but..-"

"No, no but. Just let me go to him. I need to know” you whispered the last part of your sentence and with that George pulled away from you leaving you to search the area.

You searched for quite a long time before you finally caught sight of his head. He was already dressed in his racing suit and was looking for something on the table, among all the things. You stopped for a moment before taking a deep breath and stepping forward..

Either it will ruin your life or you will find out the reason..

“Lewis?” your little six year old self whispered and patted little Lewis.

“Yeah” he turned sleepily in his bed and looked at you.

"Could I sleep with you? I'm scared on the floor" you whispered and desperately hoped he would say yes. You were supposed to sleep with him, but since his bed was small, you had to sleep on the floor, which you didn't like.

Little Lewis didn't answer, he just shifted on the bed towards the wall and lifted the covers. You quickly took advantage of this and crawled under the covers, where you snuggled up.

"Thank you so much" you smiled a little and felt tiredness wash over you. Lewis barely nodded, himself already in dreamland and put his arm around your small body and hugged you.

"I love you" you kissed his cheek and rested your head on his shoulder.

"Me too" Lewis smiled, pulling you closer and together you slowly returned to the realm of dreams..

“Lewis?” You asked cautiously, stepping a fair distance away from him to give you some space. You could see a light bulb go off in his head that it was you and he tensed slightly before turning to you.

"What are you doing here?" he asked without a greeting and glared at you. Okay, maybe you really should have stayed home..

"I came to watch the race" you replied because you didn't want to argue right now even though you knew it would most likely end up like that.

"And did you buy VIP tickets?" he rolled his eyes at your stupidity and you couldn't take it anymore.

"Why are you ignoring me? Why did you just do all this overnight" you asked him and even though it was only the first question, tears formed in your eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about" Lewis shook his head and went back to looking for things.

"Lewis, you know it very well. Did I do something wrong? Did I say something wrong? Because I really don't know why you just left me without an explanation after more than 30 years of knowing each other" you frowned and you made him turn around.

"I don't know okay" he started waving his hands and sighed.

“So you don't know?” you whispered, a single tear falling down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away, but Lewis seemed to see it. "After all four months, when I cried constantly because I didn't know the fuck reason why you did it, you're going to tell me that you don't know? You don't even know how much I've been worried about this because how could you when you blocked me everywhere and when I followed you George dumped me” now you started crying.

Looking at your tear covered face, Lewis softened slightly and moved a little closer to you. "I couldn't see you" he only said and looked sympathetic. "I really wanted, I wanted to hug you and explain everything to you, but I couldn't".

"But why"? you sniffed and wiped away the stray tears with the back of your hand - and that there were a lot of them.

"I" he started and ran a hand through his hair without continuing. "Maya, my ex-girlfriend. I started dating her shortly before I cut you off, you didn't even get to know her. She was very angry that I was talking to you and on top of that the whole team said that I was fired by you because I wasn't winning so many races, so I thought this would be the easiest solution. I knew it was definitely wrong, but it was the easiest. But when Maya broke up with me a month ago because she found someone else, I didn't have the strength to go to you. I knew you'd be mad. I knew I messed up terribly. Please forgive me. Please" now he started crying too.

His explanation left you completely shocked. You didn't know what to say to that. You may have understood Maya because you yourself have experienced that a person behaves differently under the pressure of a loved one, but that his team said are you distracting him?

“So this was the easiest solution?” you finally asked.

"Yes. No. I don't know. I really don't know, please forgive me. I understand what you had to go through and I don't want to lose all those years when we were kids and teenagers" he begged walking closer to you before wiping your wet cheeks with his big hands.

"And Mercedes thinks I'm distracting you"?

"Well, George doesn't. The other teams didn't either, but we really had a tough season, everyone thought differently, they certainly didn't mean it" he hugged you tightly and didn't want to let go.

You wrapped your arms around his back and he wrapped his around your waist. "Let's not lose all our friendship, please. I'll do anything" he whispered in your ear and you nodded.

He might have done a bad thing that cost you an extreme amount of tears and everything, but he was still Lewis, who you had loved since birth and who would never knowingly do something so horrible.

"Lew i don't want to lose our friendship either. But I will remember what you did. And I also hope that your Maya, who is probably a nice bitch by the way, doesn't show up in my life" you laughed lightly and Lewis too.

So in the end it turned out to be a good decision to go to Las Vegas...

“What if we never see each other again?” you sighed and looked deeply into the eyes of your best friend of 15 years.

"We'll see. I'm only going there for a few days for now, but you'll be able to go to my races. I'll give you a discount" he smiled at you seeing your concern and you shook your head.

Lew got an offer to F1, when they invited him to an audition and if he succeeded, he would go to junior competitions for a few years in Italy.

"You can't leave me here" you shook your head once more and pulled him into a hug.

"I won't let. Never. Best friends forever"?

"Best Friends Forever".

[charles-leclerc-official]

the 2022 td-39 regulation also being influenced by mercedes throwing a tantrum 😐 what happened to the good old fia (ferrari international assistance) 😔

Fred's working on it, trust

[thepersonnamedsam]

do you think we’re best friends in every universe? - ln4 & gzd

pairing: lando norris x the genz!driver

summary: y/n asked lando, if they’d be best friends in every universe

word count: 500

warnings: none

note: a little drabble about the current tiktok trend :)

masterlist / taglist

„Lan, do you think we’re best friends in every universe?“, she asked the older boy. „Huh?“, he had asked back.

„Do you think we’re best friends in every universe? I saw this trend on TikTok“, she explained.

„Let me see“, Lando demanded. y/n stretched her arm out to give Lando her phone. „That’s a sad one, but there are happy ones“, she said as she showed him the video were the F1 drivers all had different best friends.

Lando laughed his typical laugh and said: „I definitely wouldn’t say ‚what’, I‘d probably say ‚huh‘.“ She laughed, as that was the exact thing he’d said when she asked him.

„Do you think we’re best friends? Seriously“, she asked one more time.

Lando tugged on his Ferrari shirt and looked at her Mercedes gear. „Yeah, I think so, even if we aren’t enemies on the track, I think we’d be best friends.“

y/n laughed a little, her heart swelled a little at his words. „What do you think, do we drive for different teams in different universes, do we even drive in Formula 1?“

His shirt changed to a McLaren one and hers to her own team. „Maybe, maybe I’ll drive for Ferrari and you for Mercedes“, he laughed. She nodded her head, wondering how’d it be to drive for one of the big teams.

„And what if we don’t even drive in F1? I mean we met here“, she dragged out. „I think we’d still find a way to meet.“

„I mean, we met on a Saturday in a bakery, don’t you remember?“, Lando giggled. They were sitting on the floor in a two bedroom apartment. „You’re right! London, 2021, a tiny little bakery, you ordered a cinnamon bun and I got a raspberry tart!“, she excitedly said.

„And look where we are now! I mean, you’re an engineer for Red Bull Racing and I am a professional Golf Player who even participated in the Netflix Cup with Pierre Gasly“, he added.

„I think we’d always find a way back to Formula 1“, she sighed. Lando‘s light blue shirt matched y/n Williams shirt. „Do you think we’d be teammates too?“, he asked.

She shook her head no: „I don’t think we’d always be teammates, but always best friends, right?“

Lando nodded as he handed her a pint: „Always my pub bestie.“

„Maybe not always pub besties, but maybe even best friends since birth“, she smiled. „You weren’t even born in the UK, how would we be besties since birth?“, he asked.

„But I was“, she exclaimed. „Don’t you remember our mums meeting in the hospital?“

„Fuck, yes you’re right! Besties since birth, my god.“

„I know everything about you, Lando Kinder Norris“, she giggled and pushed him away.

„Do you think we’d be together in another universe?“, he asked shyly.

„I think I love you in every universe“, she said back and drew more figures on his naked torso. „Good, I don’t think I’d be able to live without you“, he sighed. „Don’t worry Lan, I’ll always be with you, one way or another.“

„Don’t you dare eat that worm!“, y/n in her bird from squealed. „And what if I do“, Lando challenged. „I’m gonna pick your feathers out“, she dared. „Ohh now I’m scared“, he taunted and ate her worm.

„What if I was that worm“, she whined. „Then I’d have you in me all the time and forever.“

Lando laughed and said: „Yes, y/n, I think we’re best friends in every universe.“

°°°

@ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis , @10vely-yutazen , @daggersquadphantom , @azriel-the-shadowsinger , @i-love-scott-mccall , @mikauraur , @heartmetaphor , @darleneslane , @ellswilliams , @thxtmarvelchick , @nataliambc , @dontjudgeabookbythecover , @hockeyboysarehot , @thehistoryone , @zimm04 , @woozarts , @mellowarcadefun , @deephideoutmolkshake , @grimeslvrr

[writingstoraes]

wrong wolff 🗯

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!wolff!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: i am once again in a slump! i keep starting works and not finishing them midway lol hope you guys like this! let me know what u think 🤍

about: amidst the talks of charles' contract renewal at ferrari, rumors associating him with Mercedes arises as he is apparently offered a seat by their very own team principal. turns out, the Mercedes boss' daughter also grew close with the driver in the middle of all negotiations.

ynwolff

liked by susiewolff, danielricciardo, pierregasly, and 1,223,991 others

ynwolff finally back at the paddock to not only watch races, but annoy my dad while i'm at it 🏎️

tagged: mercedesamgf1

mercedesamgf1 The princess of the paddock is finally back!

susiewolff Dad has already sent 4 texts messages about how he lost sight of you 🤣

ynwolff don't worry, i was just looking around :)

brocedes23 So beautiful in person! Able to ask for a picture on her way to the Ferrari garage! ❤️

charlosluv WOAHH she watched the race there? pierresgirl Toto Wolff's daughter watching a race at the Ferrari garage now that's interesting... hold on

ynwolff

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, mercedesamgf1, and 906,445 others

ynwolff met with some nice people today :) hey, scuderiaferrari, your drivers are actually not all bad (one is surprisingly funny) 🤯

mercedesamgf1 Ferrari, please bring our boss' daughter back in one piece!

scuderiaferrari You have our word 👌

gaslys10 ok so she was actually at the ferrari garage this is so amazing of her lol

lecs1655 it's nice to see her getting along with other drivers, not a lot of this seen in the paddock ❤️

lovermidnights I think she's good friends with some drivers, recently Charles, she's with Toto usually when they go out, along with Lewis

charles_leclerc Thanks, funny is my best trait :D

ynwolff sure, i was talking about you 😁 charles_leclerc Pretty snappy response from someone who can't stop laughing at my basketball joke ynwolff i was laughing at you, not because of you, there is a difference charles_leclerc Sure, whatever you say 🤷‍♀️

ferrariscud NOT Y/N AND CHARLES FLIRTING AT THE COMMENTS?? IN FRONT OF MY SALAD???

ynwolff

liked by susiewolff, charles_leclerc, mercedesamgf1, and 1,451,556 others

ynwolff photoshoots and whatnot 📸 had to include this helmet i looove so much (glad the photographer loved it, too)

mercedesamgf1 Wolff serving as always!

susiewolff My gorgeous daughter 💓

charles_leclerc I hope next time you play badminton as good as you look

ynwolff did you just call me pretty carlossainz55 LOL charles_leclerc No? I said you suck at badminton ferrarigirlie charles is so me when flirting

charles_leclerc recently added to his instagram story!

charles_leclerc

liked by ynwolff, susiewolff, mercedesamgf1, and 1,442,985 others

charles_leclerc I, in fact, signed a contract today: to take her out for as many ice cream dates as she wishes and watch a dozen of her favorite movies in one day.

tagged: ynwolff

ynwolff pleasure doing business with you, chuckles

charles_leclerc So you admit, I was the funny one

mercedesamgf1 Business-minded just like her dad 🫡

loveswolff THIS IS SO CUTE

ricciardochamp she is both a wag and the boss' daughter, unmatched

ynwolff

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, susiewolff, and 1,238,990 others

ynwolff loving him is definitely red ❤️

tagged: charles_leclerc

carlossainz55 Finally! Charles won't stop whining asking me when I think you're going to post him 🙄

charles_leclerc Whatever happened to teammate confidentiality carlossainz55 I like her more than you, she's nicer so

susiewolff Dad would like to clear some things: he did not just say all the nice things about Charles just because you're his girlfriend, in fact, in his own words, he knew him first

ynwolff my own father competing with me? charles_leclerc 😅😅😅

----------

tagging: @slytherheign

notes: this was quite lengthy i got carried away sorry lol anyway lmk what u guys think! currently working on wip's and requests hehehe also thinking of doing a permanent taglist, would anyone be interested in joining hehehehe

[jamminvroomvroom]

lando request where their super flirty around each other but always say they’re“just friends” even tho they hook up on the dl and everyone always speculates if there’s something going w

just friends

LN4 x reader | blurb

tysm for the request!! <3 enjoyed writing this one hehe

warnings: minors dni! suggestive content, language, fluff, lando being a little shit, alex and george appearance

“you need to fix your hair.” you teased, smoothing out your skirt, reaching around for your shirt.

“you need to fix your hair.” lando replied, sticking his tongue out at you. you just rolled your eyes in response.

“can’t believe you left a mark.” you whined, scanning yourself in the mirror and frowning at the purple splodge on your neck.

“whoops.” was all lando said in response.

“i’m serious! that is our only rule. i’ve got nothing to cover this now.” you huffed, trying to readjust your hair and your top to cover the mark.

he came up behind you, not missing the way your eyes fluttered shut in the mirror, just for a second, when he grabbed at your hips and dipped his head to rest in the crook of your neck.

“couldn’t help it, don’t like the way some of the other drivers look at you.” he murmured into your ear, nice and low, sealing his words with a light kiss against the bruise he’d left not ten minutes earlier.

you didn’t let him get too comfortable, elbowing him in the ribs and squirming out of his hold to finish making yourself decent.

“you’re being so mean to me today,” lando pouted. “i thought we were friends.” he teased, hand over his heart as though you’d wounded him.

“does this look friendly to you?” you deadpanned, scowling at him as you pointed at the glaring mark on your neck.

all lando did was blow you a kiss in response, and you couldn’t help but smile.

-

you managed to escape the motorhome unscathed, nonchalantly moving through the paddock side by side. he was making his way to the garage to hop in the car, qualifying about half an hour away, and you were on your way to cheer him on, tucked away in the garage like the good, supportive best friend that you were.

you’d gotten quite good at sneaking around the paddock, disappearing off together under the guise of close friendship, and returning a bit more disheveled and a lot more smiley. it was going swimmingly, and no one seemed to know a thing about how lando always found an opportunity to bend you over the nearest surface.

but that’s when it all went sideways.

you heard a voice call out lando’s name, followed by yours and you both stopped, waiting for the owner of the voice to catch you up.

“where did i see you two sneak off to earlier?” george stood before you, alex in tow.

“we were in the motorhome, mate.” lando replied, face neutral for a change.

“doing what?” alex teased, eyebrows jumping suggestively.

you opened your mouth to answer, but were stopped in your tracks by george’s elbow meeting alex’s ribs, as the mercedes driver’s jaw dropped. he knew. he’d seen it.

alex quickly clocked on and the tall men were laughing like school boys, tripping over eachother as they did.

“we fucking knew it.” alex tipped his thick neck back. “charles and pierre owe us two fifty each.”

you just avoided eye contact with both of them, while lando looked to the heavens and scratched his head awkwardly.

lando turned towards you slowly, coming face to face with your show stopping glare.

“this doesn’t mean we have to stop, right?”

you walked around him, rolling your eyes, the blush on your cheeks ferrari read as you stomped all the way to the garage.

“right?” lando called from behind you, jogging to catch you up.

“don’t push your luck, norris.”

lando wasn’t even remotely worried, knowing that whatever this was, this thing between you both was far from over. his confidence was reaffirmed when he looked up from the cockpit and just about managed to catch the kiss you blew him.

[sunlitlemonade]

YOU WATCH F1 TOO?!?!?!?!???????!?? RAHHHHHHHHH🏎🏎🏎🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 can we plz get thoughts on drivers 👀🥺🙏🫣🫣🫣🫦

anon i know you sent this sometime around suzuka but that last emoji made me laugh every time i tried answering this. as for the drivers......... sigh. I'm swinging a very bedazzled bat at a swarming hornets' nest. pray for me.

under the cut because i yapped a LOT. also. uh. possible slander. so like.

Red Bull Racing

Max Verstappen: starting off strong here with my favourite guy of all time. He's Inevitable™. He's fast. He's amazing. He's sweet and blunt and gorgeous and I want everything good for him. He's phenomenal, he moves me, he makes it's so easy to root for him and yet, it's incredibly taxing to be a fan given the British bias in F1 journalism and the fandom, not to mention FIA occasionally losing it's goddamn mind.

Sergio 'Checo' Perez: I'm actually so fond of him. His recent performances leave more to desired, I know, but fuck if he isn't the funniest mf around. Also it's simply a matter of time when he gets back in form [the bias is STRONG here I'm aware]. Also he's an extremely good second driver because I for one think he knows how to handle a team built around his teammate. I don't think any other driver on the current grid would have gelled with Max and Red Bull's structure [and strategy to win] the way Checo has.

Ferrari

Charles Leclerc: Il Predestinato. Saint Leclerc. Curse bearer and curse breaker. He's made to be a dream. He can make the hopeless hope. I know I said Max is generational talent but we're quite lucky to be in this era where we have not one, but TWO generational talents because Charles..... this guy..... you have to be blind to not see the sheer talent and insanity this man holds. Ferrari get your shit together istg. I need a Verstappen - Leclerc WDC fight. IT WILL BE GLORIOUS.

Carlos Sainz: *cough* ok, so, I wanna start off by saying I do think he's a chill guy off-track, ok? I really do think that. He's funny, quick, hot [ofc]. As a driver though. I just. He's good --not as good as F1 media wanted you to believe after his win in Australia and the circumstances surrounding it [WDC material??? Any GP winner now is considered WDC material??? ok]-- but he whines A LOT and I would actually prefer if his aggressiveness on track is directed less at his own teammate and more on their opposition? That would be cool. Plus sometimes he forgets it's not 'yippee we are all friends haha' all the time and inevitably fires up when someone serves cunt on track and he's bearing the brunt of it. I call it the Mclaren syndrome if anyone is interested.

Mclaren

enough said [ignore the shit quality i grabbed the first template i could find sjskdjfke]

Mercedes

George Russell: HES SUCH A HILARIOUS DIVA!!!! WHO DOESNT LOVE THIS GUY?? He's so entertaining and fun and he is a very good driver! I feel like we still have yet to see all he can achieve and I am very excited to see what happens next.

Lewis Hamilton: Legend. I truly have nothing else to add. Forget his fanbase, forget his tunnel vision when it comes to winning [and this applies to almost every driver, most of all my favourite ones lol], he's seven time world champion for a reason. Since we're asking for my opinions here though, I'll tell you this: anytime he wins I'm happy enough to see it [though I will forever want to see my favs on P1], any time he doesn't I don't care much, if he has a bad race I will give it less notice- basically, he exists in the periphery of my vision. I have been in awe of him for years and admire him but I cannot call myself a fan. One thing I can't help but obsess over is how cunty and unapologetic he is [which is also something that I love about Max].

Alpine

Esteban Ocon: He's a good driver, he's grinded hard to be here in F1 and I love to see it. Also, he's geek! In my books, that's always a plus.

Pierre Gasly: He's actually one of the most unremarkable drivers on the grid currently. Like there's nothing wrong with him and every time he pops up in interviews or whatever he's fun to see but that's about it? Honestly he seems like a cool guy, a driver okay enough but doesn't stand out much to me in anyway skdjhsjd

Sauber

Valtteri Bottas: THE MOST UNDERRATED DRIVER EVER MAYBE????? I love this dude and I'm hoping he can get something better than the tractor he has this season, as unlikely as it is.

Zhou Guanyu: Again, he's a nice enough driver and I really enjoy his vibe but he's crawling on the track in the tractor Sauber cooked up and I don't really know what to think of him beyond what I have stated.

Aston Martin

Fernando Alonso: Anyone who has a problem with Mr. Alonso has a problem with me. This is a strict Alonso Stan account, I do not take criticism and idc what anyone else has to say about him. He's a legend, he's an icon, he's the spirit of F1. I'm quite literally obsessed with him. You know what. Max is the Only One for me BUT if Fernando happened to win a 3rd title........... Did you know that Adrian Newey was recently acquired by Aston Martin [MAKE IT HAPPEN NEWEY].

Lance Stroll: idc. truly idc. some hate this guy, some love him. im at the camp of idgaf. just complete indifference.

Haas

Kevin Magnussen: If you've noticed anything by now, it's that I love love love track terrors. Not the stupid bitches who divebomb everyone all the time and start barking when it happens to them. Nah, the ones who race. I fucking love them. I love Kevin. Hoping against hope that he gets a seat somewhere next year, I will miss him so much. He's incredible to watch. God. I will actually miss him so much. Fuck.

Nico Hulkenberg: Another underrated driver, he's actually quite skillful and entertaining to watch. I just wish he had better luck like 😭

VCARB

Daniel Ricciardo: I miss him. His performances had waned and yeah, it had been time for him to go but I will still miss him and idk man I will admit I wasn't his biggest fan a while back, which had hurt because at some point, years back, he was the main reason why I watched the sport at all. But he had slowly wormed himself back in my heart and fuck. His last race actually made my chest clench ngl. He was absolutely amazing.

Liam Lawson: Consider me sat. I'm SO curious to see how he performs. We know he's got potential but just how far can he stretch?

Yuki Tsunoda: How many times have I used the word 'love' already? I'm sorry but what else can I say? I genuinely love this fella. He's so good and exciting to watch on track and also, plain funny. I wish for everything good to happen to him.

Williams

Alex Albon: infatuated with his billion dollar smile. Now that that's out of the way let me also just say HES SUNLIGHT INCARNATE, also I COULD LISTEN TO HIM YAP FOREVER. Idk I'm actually really happy for him because he seems to be flourishing at Williams and I mean this in the best way possible: he shines at a midfield team. [Also, note me saying he's sunshine doesn't negate just how fucking sly & sassy he can be. I adore that about him.]

Franco Colapinto: MY BELOVED. I perk up like a sunflower under the sun when I see him. He's such an intriguing driver. I detect hints of track terrorism abilities brewing here and cannot wait to see more of it. Also! He's so refreshing to listen to. I know like 80 percent of the grid is no-nonsense and transparent but man idk how to say this. He's a fucking comedian. Not a thought that has any sort of filter at all in that pretty little head of his. Just. No PR training at all here.

Logan Sargent: This boy. He did not deserve even a smidgen of what he had to tolerate. I actually detest the collective treatment from the fandom and his own fucking team that he had to constantly weather. I hope whatever racing division he advances to, he fucking demolishes. I hope he has so much fun winning. I miss him and his reserved smiles.

Special mention:

Oliver Bearman: I mean he raced twice this season, I can't skip over him just like that. Anyways, he's a BABY [< girl who's half a year older than him sjedhbwje] and I WANT HIM TO DO GOOD. He's done relatively well till now in the limited time on track [in F1] we've seen him, we'll have to wait and watch how he does next year. This F2 season for him has been... eh but like I get why.

[cutielando]

with you | g.r.

synopsis: in which your relationship hits rock bottom

my masterlist

You knew dating George would be hard, especially after deciding to make your relationship public.

Given the fact that his fan base consisted in a very manner of girls, that made things even more complicated. Hate comments and death threats became the norm whenever one of you would post a picture with the other.

You knew you shouldn't listen to them, they were only behaving that way because they wished they were in your place.

George knew that. You knew that. It was simple

But you couldn't help it, sometimes they did manage to get to you. Making you doubt yourself, thinking you were not good enough to be with someone like George, doubting your relationship. 

George could always tell when this would happen. 

You would go quiet all of a sudden, you would just stare at your phone and not even realize he would be talking to you. 

Seeing you like that broke George's heart every single time. He knew how harsh his fans could be and how eager they were to rip every single person in a driver's life to absolute shreds. He saw it happen to every single driver on the track and he was no stranger to it himself.

Watching the tears stream down your eyes as you read the comments on your or his posts was something he never wanted to see ever again. 

Unfortunately, that was exactly how he found you in your shared apartment once he came back early from his GP in Las Vegas.

You hadn't been able to attend because you had 2 exams that weekend, so you stayed back home but cheered him on nonetheless.

He hadn't told you exactly when he would be flying in, figuring the least he could do was surprise you by coming home earlier than expected.

What took him by surprise, though, were the sobs coming from your bedroom, quiet yet unnerving to his ears.

"Love?" he called out as he made his way towards the bedroom door, knocking on it softly before opening it.

There you were, sitting in the middle of the huge bed in one of the hoodies he had left behind, tears running down your cheeks and mascara smeared all over your face.

You sniffled once your eyes met his, not even bothering to try and hide yourself from him. You didn't have the energy for that.

"George" your voice came out like a whine as you outstretched your arms towards him like a little child, begging to be held by him.

Not even thinking for another second, he sprinted towards the bed and enveloped you in his strong hold, holding you tightly as you let out a new set of tears at the feeling of his warmth.

His heart broke at the sound of your sobs, urging him to squeeze you tighter and tighter so you could feel all the love he carried for you and only you.

Several minutes were spent like that, him holding you while you let all of your pent-up frustration and pain in his arms. You clung to him like your life depended on it and couldn't help but melt into him, feeling more at home than ever before.

Slowly, but surely, you were starting to calm down, your hysterical sobs now down to sniffles and slight hiccups.

"I'm sorry" you croaked out, your voice sore from all the crying.

"What are you sorry for? You shouldn't be apologizing to me. What happened, love?" he was cradling your face in his hands softly, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

You closed your eyes for a moment and let out a soft sigh, enjoying the soothing motion of his hands and the feeling of his skin on yours.

"I was on Instagram and a post from Mercedes popped up about your weekend in Las Vegas so I wanted to leave a comment because I'm proud of your weekend but the moment I entered the comment section it was all flooded with comments dragging me through the mud because I wasn't there with you and shit. I know I sometimes suck because I can't be there for every race and people hate me for that, but I need to finish my degree and I feel so guilty for it sometimes and-"

"Hey, sh sh. There's so need for you to feel guilty about investing in your future, love. This is your life, your education, baby. I'm so insanely proud of you for everything you're doing and don't think for a second that you have to prove your love for me or something even remotely close to that by coming to every race. No matter where you are, I know you're cheering me on and that's all that matters. I want you to focus on your studies and your future before even thinking about focusing on my career. People are jealous, baby, they're jealous because you're with me and they're not. Hating is all they know how to do. Please, don't hurt yourself by listening to some people you don't even know and people who don't get a say in how we live our lives. As long as you and I have everything figured out, that's all that matters. Do you hear me?" he asked, staring deeply into your eyes.

You let his words sink in, slowly but surely convincing yourself to listen to him.

Deep down, you knew everything he was saying was right and honest, but sometimes the pressure got to you and you would just break down.

"I hear you. I'm sorry you have to deal with this, I know you're stressed enough as it is" you said, pouting a little.

George shook his head, kissing your forehead quickly.

"Don't apologize to me for that. I'm never too busy or stressed for you. Always come to me when you're feeling like this so we can talk it out. I love you so much and I never want you to doubt yourself or our relationship"

"I love you too" you whispered, leaning in and capturing your lips with his.

You climbed onto his lap, wrapping your limbs around him like a koala bear.

Pulling away only slightly, you buried your face in his neck and wrapped your arms around his torso tightly, never wanting to let go.

Even though these moments would away creep in and make you doubt yourself, George would always be there to make sure he shut them all down.

Why?

Because you deserved to be loved and appreciated and he was determined to be the person to show you just how special you were to the people around you.

Especially to him.

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[bellezaycafe]

Get Your Shit Together - Chapter 4

genre: 2024 Season AU

pairing: there will be romance but I haven't finalised who yet. platonic! oc x literally the whole grid.

warnings: lots swearing, major car accident, mentions of broken bones, blood and hospitals. A lot of shit happens. Limited knowledge of Silverstone or how the structure of their emergency response on track works.

context: Sadie, a 20 year old university student from Melbourne, decided to take a gap year and volunteer at 2 Formula One races in different countries.

Sadie's Faceclaim: Maia Mitchell (but you can visualise her howver you want :) )

comments: ...prepare for pain. I'm not sorry. I did speak to a doctor friend, and Sadie continuing with her injuries is plausible.

Part 1 | Masterlist

----$----

“Fuck me, it’s a bit cold,” Sadie complained to the middle-aged paramedic beside her.

“Is it too cold for the Australian kid?” Mark laughed.

Sadie turned to him, looked up and frowned. “Not a kid, fuck you.”

Mark laughed again and tried to pat her on the head, which Sadie swatted away.

“Let’s just hope today’s race is dry,” he said after a moment.

Sadie nodded, stray wisps of her dark brown hair loosely flying around her face in the breeze.

Silverstone, in June, was the same temperature as Sadie’s home town in September, just leaving winter into spring.

“This is not summer weather,” she whined.

“You volunteered, kid,” Joe reminded her.

“I know, I know.”

“Where have they placed you?”

“Medics at turn 13. That’s Stowe, right?”

“Yeah. It can be a dangerous one. But you’re with my older brother Keith, so you’ll be fine.”

"How is it in the wet?"

"Worse, but the drivers are in safe hands."

----$----

Sadie paced as she watched 18 -Pierre Gasly and Oscar Piastri had sent each other out early in the race- of the best drivers in the world speed past.

“Sadie,” Keith called, “you should sit down.”

“I’m more anxious when I sit,” she replied without taking her eyes off the track. The track that was getting wetter and wetter as the minutes past.

"Mark said to let you pace and I will, but nothing is going to happen," the grey-haired man reassured.

Sadie sent him a kind smile but didn't reply out loud.

It was a good thing she didn’t. They might have missed it.

Two Red Bulls, the McLaren and a Mercedes flew into view. The McLaren, Lando's McLaren, clipped the back wheel of Lewis Hamilton's Mercedes, sending a shower of debris into the misting rain.

Lando's car spun, twice and then slammed into the wall side on. Lewis spun once but managed to pull his car to a spot in the gravel before it could collide with anything.

Sadie was out the door, pulling on her mandatory helmut and grabbing a first aid kit before Keith was out of his chair.

"Go to the McLaren!" Keith shouted to her as he followed with another kit. "I'll take the Merc!"

She didn't acknowledge his order but followed it without hesitation. She jumped the barrier, her gaze locked on the fluro yellow helmet. The helmet that was barely moving.

"Lando," she shouted as she reached the car. "Are you okay?"

"No!" His voice came as a strangled croak, barely loud enough for her to hear him.

She dropped the first aid kit and grabbed the steering wheel he was holding out.

"You will be, we're here." She stated. "Can you get out?"

Sadie didn't breathe as Lando cried out. "My foot!" he wailed. "My ankle!"

"Okay, take a deep breath, Lando. Push yourself up with you arms. You're strong, mate. Push."

She didn't know what she was saying. She was running on instinct and adrenaline. Purely, instinct and adrenaline.

Get them off the track, Mark's voice rang in her head. Get them somewhere safe.

Lando hoisted himself onto the halo and Sadie saw his ankle bent at an unnatural angle. She couldn't let it show on her face.

"Alright, Lando swing to me. Swing around."

He did so, wobbling dangerously.

"Drop onto your right foot, I'm here."

Cars sped past, the flag only yellow.

Lando didn't drop onto his feet, he fell from the car and into Sadie. She was lucky she had braced herself as she caught him.

He screamed in pain as his ankle hit the ground.

"Lando, my name is Sadie. I've got you now, do not put your right foot on the ground. I'm gonna get you to the medical tent."

"Sadie? Melbourne Sadie?" He whimpered. He couldn't stop making small sounds of pain.

She opened his visor, met his watercolour eyes. She knew her helmet had no visor, knew he could see her eyes.

"Yes, Lando, it's Melbourne Sadie. I've got you now, we've got to get you off the track."

She hauled his left arm over her shoulders and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Walk with me Lando. That's it, with your right foot. Good. You're gonna be okay, mate. It's just a scratch."

Sadie still hadn't registered what she was saying, or the fact that Lando was leaning almost all of his weight on her.

Her head snapped up at the sound of approaching cars. With hands firmly on his waist, Sadie slipped out from under his left arm and placed herself under his right.

She put herself between him and the oncoming cars. She didn't know what might happen, hadn't thought about it. She hadn't thought at all.

It was Perez's Red Bull that struck the McLaren or Mercedes debris. More debris flew through the rain, some thing off all three cars. Sadie pulled Lando tighter into her and shielded him as she continued to pull him towards the closest exit.

Pain tore though Sadie's adrenaline. Her right side, both arm and leg. She stumbled, barely, but right herself and Lando cried out in pain again.

She knew two things, do not stop and do not let the pain stop you.

"I've got you Lando, you're going great. Keep going!"

"Sadie," he whimpered. "Fuck. My ankle, Sadie, my car."

"I know, Lando, I know. You're going to be okay. Your car will be fine, you will be okay."

"Fuck," he whimpered again.

"Keep going, pretty boy. Don't put that left foot on the ground. You're gonna be okay, pretty boy."

More hands joined hers and pulled Lando over the barrier. She didn't register who it was, only that he was on the other side and being treated. She heard a lot of swearing, she heard someone call her name.

She looked up to see Lando staring at her leg. He was laying down, on an ambulance stretcher.

"Sadie," he croaked, his eyes rising to hers.

She didn't look down, a part of her knew she didn't want to know. Sadie kept his eye contact as she tried to stand upright. "I'm okay, Lando. I'm okay." She reassured.

Some one stepped into her line of sight and she lost view of his face. They hauled him into the waiting ambulance.

"Fuck, kid." She recognised that voice.

She turned, limped around to face Mark.

"Mark, Lando he's -" He recognised her voice, just as she had his. She was still wearing the medic's helmet.

"Sadie, your leg. You've-" He stepped forwards and pulled a chair with him.

"I don't know," she whispered. She couldn't be louder, she tried to say it louder but it was the same whispered, "I don't know. I haven't looked."

The paramedic rushed to her, placing the chair beneath her as her right leg gave out.

"Don't look," he muttered. "You're gonna be okay, but you can't look."

Someone handed him gauze and bandages. Another handed him saline and scissors.

Lewis stepped into Sadie's quickly narrowing line of sight.

"Oh my god," he exclaimed.

When Sadie saw him, she remembered what she'd done. She thought about what she'd done.

The crash. Catching Lando. Essentially dragging him off the track. Putting herself between him and the cars. Her leg. She didn't know the damage but her leg was on fire.

"Sir," she breathed. "Lewis, my helmet, please."

"Oh my god, kid. They're gonna look after you, okay?" He dropped to his knees next to her, leaving his own helmet in the dust.

"I know," she croaked as he undid the straps at her chin. "It's not that. The media- Lewis, hide me from the media. Please."

That's when Lewis recognised Sadie. Her brown hair was plastered to her pale face. Her brown eyes were wide with fear.

"Oh shit. Okay kid, yeah. They'll never know your name, they'll never see your face. I swear it, kid. I promise."

Someone handed her a green piece of plastic. The green whistle. Pain relief, and a very strong one.

He last words before the high kicked in were, "Lewis, please. No reports, no one can know it was me."

Needless to say, the rest of the day was a blur. She barely remembered the ambulance ride, getting the piece of Formula One car embedded in her thigh taken out or the stitches in her arm and leg.

It was all over the news.

Medic gets stabbed with shrapnel while helping driver Lando Norris.

Norris out of SIlverstone GP: The Medic Who Saved Him.

Two in hospital after dangerous crash at Silverstone.

But Sadie's name was never written. Every reporter was baffled at the disappearance of her identity.

----$----

Lewis had gone to Max that evening, before the winner had the chance to go out.

"It was the Melbourne volunteer," he'd told him in his hotel room. "The medic in hospital, it was Sadie."

Max's face snapped towards Lewis. He'd been making Lewis a coffee, but it was abandoned.

"What happened? Is she okay?"

Lewis shrugged, shadows passing over his face. "I don't know, man. I- Her leg was bad."

"Fuck," Max muttered. "How did it happen?"

Lewis rubbed his face with his hands. "I don't know that either. I didn't see it. It's what happens now that I want to talk about. I need your help."

Max froze. Lewis knew why, he'd never asked Max for help before. They were friendly, finally, but they weren't close.

"She begged me, Max, begged me, to keep her name out of the media. So far, so good but I need your influence in the paddock. You still have the unpredictable 'Mad Max' reputation to some people. I need you to use it."

He nodded and there was an understanding between the champions. Sadie had protected their friend, maybe saved his career if some of the initial reports were true, and it was their turn to protect her.

"I don't why she was so desperate. She was begging me. She had a piece of fucking metal sticking out of her goddamn leg and she was begging me to hide her from the media."

"it doesn't matter," Max stated. His eyes were dark as he search his contacts for a name. "It doesn't get out. Her name appears no where."

They would protect her.

----$----

I'm not sorry. I hope you enjoyed! Feedback in welcome :)

Taglist (never thought I'd write one of these, I'm very happy to):

@snubug

[thatsdemko]

one last ride for the alpha - p.gasly & y.tsunoda

masterlist

requested: y but also n

pairings: Pierre gasly x fem!reader & yuki tsunods x fem!reader + nsfw ideas mentioned

warnings: not intended for minors + mentions of Pierre being a tripod

a/n: loved love affair and ride that like a Mercedes? I’m back with another one of these bad boys 😁😁🫶feedback is always appreciated xx

ps: hope this eases our pain and suffering of that Miami race 😔🫶

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

it’s a bittersweet ending for Pierre, one last time riding along side his best friend. the season was a rollercoaster, it always is, but Pierre is excited to move forward and be out of Red Bulls grasp once and for all.

“that’s it for us.” yuki leans against his friends shoulder, hair tickling his friends chin, “aren’t you going to miss me?”

Pierre laughs, “miss you? no!” he jokes, shoving the Japanese man off of his body trying to get up from the booth of the table they are situated at.

the drinks keep flowing, sake is being shoved down his throat while they listen to others sing karaoke. the girl on the stage has Pierre mesmerized, the guy she came with left hated the public embarrassment she was bringing to him, so she and Charlotte both sang together, instantly clicking.

the songs over, and Pierre pushes himself up from the seat, swerving around the tables and people, meeting you in the middle, “I knew you were looking at me.” you say, index finger pulling his shirt collar closer to you.

“hard to look away,” he pushes the hair out of your face, “you’re just too hot.” he tries to press his lips against yours, but you pull away.

“get me a drink first then you can kiss me.”

and he does, but he gets you so much more than that. more than what you can say thank you for, because the way he’s treating is better than the guy you came with.

he works you slow, hand moves up your thigh, you hardly notice until his finger nails are pulling on the fabric of your panties. it’s when you turn around from giggling with Charlotte to see what he’s doing, “you have a mind of your own, don’t you?”

“you want to get out of here?” his voice is low, fingers pushing your hair off your shoulder you can’t help but nod you can’t say a word.

and you basically don’t the whole night, the only thing that comes from you are moans and gasps while he goes at you all night. he’s big, what did you expect? of all the rumors you’ve heard, they were true, he was ten times better than you ever expected him to be.

he moves slow, takes his time discovering every inch and area of you, it makes you twitch and squirm, he’s so good at that. he knows how to make you whine, how to make you cum in a matter of seconds, he’s just that good.

you don’t think anybody could be better than that.

—

when you wake up the next morning, the person you see is half who you expected to see. how did you end up here? how’d you end up in his bed and not the others? what happened that you don’t remember?

when you turn over to look at the nightstand for the time, you’re met with bottles of sake in your field of vision making you moan. this is how you ended up here.

“time?” he asks, thick Japanese accent shining through, he lets out a raspy groan when you don’t reply fast enough. the phone in between you both lights up and instantly he reaches for it.

“no, no I’m fine. yeah she’s here, why do you ask?” he pulls the phone away from his ear and over to yours. you don’t even have time to make a reaction before the cold device is held against your ear.

“ah cherie, have fun last night? I did, and I’m sure yuki did too! quite a show I’ll say, singing and all.” he chuckles, the sound of his laughter sends a pounding to your head. you want him to stop, but you can barely vocalize your needs without feeling a fire in your throat and the nausea wave through your body.

you’re mumbling trying to find words to come out of your mouth, but your voice box cracks and nothing comes. those boys must’ve truly broke you, you think to yourself.

when you look over at the man beside you, who’s now peacefully asleep once again, some of it floods back. how he held you while you rode him, the way his hand pressed against your throat, and how he had you begging on your knees. it’s the minor details you remember, but it’s clearly why you’re in this state in the first place.

“enjoy your slumber with yuki, I’ll come get you tonight. wear that black dress you were talking about, I still have those heels of yours you claim that match.”

[formulatrash]

What Hot Hatch* Should Every F1 Driver Have? Pt 1

*some of these cars are not technically hot hatches but they are, spiritually, hot hatches to ME and also car genres are meaningless shut up

Unfortunately because I have problems I allowed the group chat to commission me into writing this. I think you will be able to see the point where I really unleashed the thoughts that probably ought to be kept inside. Maybe I will keep Pt 2 to myself.

Max Verstappen - Honda Civic Type R This was tricky because we know the grid's resident cat dad is actually an SUV girly off the track. But he's also a brand loyalist and I'm fairly sure literally has had one of these as his factory car so it checks out that a car notorious for having a better engine than it did chassis would fit the Red Bull post-Newey meltdown. And if you need to go round a bunch of roundabouts there's really almost nothing rivalled to a Civic Type R.

Lewis Hamilton - og Nissan Leaf Yes, Lewis has never had any association to the Renault-Nissan alliance in his life but whatever he's leaving Mercedes. Think he's sort of forgotten about this but he did commit to only driving electric road cars awhile back and I will defend the Nissan Leaf with my LIFE as one of the most fun cars to drive. Nearly said the NISMO Leaf but actually the time I had a go in one of them it was insanely overbearing in a way someone used to having Bono to whine to wouldn't appreciate. The stripped down, basic, original is more than enough to fuck about in a multistory car park and I'm confident Lewis would immediately know what to do with it when next to a BMW at traffic lights.

George Russell - Williams Renault Clio This was actually what started it because I was introducing my beautiful wife to the groupchat and then considering which driver should throw some pocket money at it. Leaving aside the fact that if I was that rich there'd be a lockup in Monte Carlo full of the shittest mid-90s three-doors you've ever seen in your life, this car is perfect for George. It's got a legitimate heritage connection and it's a proper piece, something to look after. There's even matching sweaters for him and Carmen to wear in a sponsored post. And when he gets that look in his eye and starts clenching his jaw too much it's extremely good for doing donuts outside Carrefour.

Sergio Perez - Toyota GR Yaris No, I know he drives for a Honda works team but if they haven't fired him yet they'll probably overlook this. The GR Yaris is a bit of a North American legend because you can legally only get it in Mexico - they're not obtainable in the US. So this is an understated big dick move and maybe what Checo needs is to have a little obnoxious fun, y'know?

Charles Leclerc - Sbarro Super Eight Oh, Charles. Tied up in scarlet. In order to maintain his Maranello-chained brand suffering nothing but Ferrari's finest horsies could do but they're not really in the business of making mean little things to hoon. Unless you consider the driver academy, I guess. Anyway - the Sbarro Super Eight is a Ferrari 308 V8 engine in the body of the kind of vehicle you can get insured on under the age of 25. It has too much (260) horsepower, it's a little silly and deeply selfconscious. And like il predestinato there is only one in the whole world.

Carlos Sainz Jnr - VW Golf This isn't even a statement about what car he should have, this is a car he does have. Mr Sainz and I may disagree about many things but his opinion that the VW Golf is the ultimate road vehicle is absolutely correct. Anyone who's seen the excruciating DTS segment where he tries to take a McLaren to M&S for a disappointing taco mix purchase will understand why Carlos held on to his Golf, a much better vehicle for picking up some bits. In the words of the man himself: "No Golf, no party"

Lando Norris - Lancia Delta Integrale Mk 2 "la Perla" Anyone with my Instagram recommendations will know in quite some alarming detail which Monegasque petrol station Lando uses to fill up his collection of sports cars. Weird fan paparazzi behaviour aside, the man likes buying unique cars and clearly isn't above something quirky given the Fiat Jolly. The Delta Integrale "la Perla" 1) sounds a bit like a sex toy in a way I think he'd find amusing, 2) is rare, with a totally impractical pearlescent white paint job for something ostensibly intended to hoon. It's expensive, semi-unique (allegedly only a few hundred were made) and a little bit silly, with plenty of rally-proven power and drive to muck about with.

Oscar Piastri - Honda City Turbo Oscar seems like the kind of guy who doesn't care too much about appearances. Not in the sense he looks bad - he very clearly does not - but like, lot of rumpled shirts in his wardrobe he's not bothered about ironing, y'know. So it fits that he'd need a hot hatch that does the job more than it's about aesthetic. The things I know about Oscar are that he likes to spend time with his girlfriend and he learned Japanese at school so I'm diagnosing him with JDM import disease and making sure there's a passenger seat. The Honda City Turbo is a teeny weeny little car that only makes its way into being a hot hatch not a kei car because of the totally unnecessary powertrain. And what a fucking powertrain, straight from the Mugen division into the least likely chassis imaginable. Yes, the car is not the most ostentatious looking thing but it's technically interesting and sick as hell so whatever.

Zhou Guanyu - Renault Twingo 133 Silverstone edition Zhou is a man of immense taste and style. He has a great little cat. He is a national icon in his home country and, frankly, any other. He has spent a lot of his life in Sheffield. Aside from this making him basically an idealised form of bloke, I think this means I can entrust him with the Twingo. Not, it's got to be said, overpowered as a car in its base model (my Mk1 Twingo could boast a 0-62 measured in minutes) Renault have never been able to resist souping it up a bit and for some unlikely series of reasons made a sport version to tie into the 2011 British Grand Prix. I don't even want to know why, now, it's better that it stays a mystery. Anyway, this is a Twingo with unnecessary horsepower and live data feeds the Mk1 would probably have a misfire even considering. It's quirky, comes with plenty of backstory and y'know. Whomst amongst us hasn't been screwed around with by Renault a bit in the past?

Valtteri Bottas - the Suzuki Jimny The Jimny is a car of greats. Deceptively small, it works perfectly in a city or if you need to drive up a mountain to get to a gravel course. loads of room at the back for a bike rack. It's practical, a little odd-looking in a charming way and everyone's delighted every time they see one. You can definitely get your ass out in this vehicle. Is it a hot hatch? Probably not but you don't get to define how the Jimny lives its life.

[safetycar-restart]

KINKTOBER DAY 14: GANG BANG [MERCEDES X READER]

NOTE: This is a nsfw fic with dom!reader and sub!Mick, featuring Lewis, George, Toto and Bono. If you're under 18 or uninterested, then scroll past. If you like what you see here, then check out the rest of my blog :))

This fic forms part of a kinktober series where I discuss a different concept with different motorsport athletes. We discuss the concepts in more detail on my blog so if you're inspired by what you read here, feel free to stop by!

(This fic takes place in an dom/sub AU everyone is either a dom, sub or switch. Reader is the Mercedes team dom, with Mick being the team sub. If you like this AU, you can check out more of it on my blog under the 'D/S AU' tag)

Qatar 2023. Lewis DNFs, crashing into George and nearly taking George out the race. Somehow, George fights his way to 4th.

Mick has no idea what to do. When they crash on lap 1, Mick outwardly whines and turns to see where you are. He hates seeing his team upset, and he already knows this will cause so much drama. As the team sub, all he wants is to be a good boy for his team and make everyone happy.

Mick finds you sitting with the pit crew and drags you back to where he and Toto are watching the race. Toto glances at you, nodding for a moment and turning back to the screen.

When the race ends, Mick has no idea what to do with himself. He wants to go find and comfort lewis, but George deserves to be celebrated. He just turns to you, having no idea what to do.

When you go to Lewis, he's devastated, and he refuses to take any comfort from you because he says he needs to wait until George finishes the race so he can apologise. If this were George, you would have pulled your rank as team dom and made him come with you. But you know that Lewis needs to address this directly with George before he can do anything else.

So you agree to wait until the race is finished.

Once you agree to that, you go to fetch Mick because you're sure the poor thing must be distraught. And he is, he's cuddled up on Toto's lap, hiding in toto's lap and resting his head against toto's earphones so he can hear the radio chatter.

He spots you approaching and tries to get up but Toto tightens his hold on Mick, clearly taking comfort from the team sub himself. So instead you order Mick to say where he is and comfort Toto, promising him that you're looking after Lewis.

So that's how it goes until the race ends, with you and Bono waiting with Lewis while Mick stays with Toto. When things finally end, George has done an amazing job. 4th!!

Lewis is the first to speak to George, apologising for what he's done and hugging him. George nods, hugging Lewis back but it's very clear that he is not fully okay.

Mick turns to you, unsure of what to do.

And for a moment you arent sure either, because you have two team members who need very different things. But then you think about it, thinking about how disjoined the entire team is and realise what the best solution is.

Everyone scenes together, whoever wants to join can.

Mick, of course, is very willing to do whatever you say, trusting that it will be what the team needs. Lewis and George knows better than to argue with you, and you just give Toto one look and he's on his way. Bono ends up joining too.

Mick is confused and unsure what to do, looking to you for guidance because everything feels so disjointed and no one knows what to do.

You take everyone back to the hotel, telling Toto, George, Lewis and bono to sit and watch while you prep Mick. You tell them they aren't to talk, just sit and watch.

Mick is so good for you, laying on his back with his knees pulled up to his chest and letting out little whines as you slowly open him up.

Before you can finish, George speaks up and asks if he can lay with Mick, if he can hold his hand. And well, how could you possibly say no to that? So you let George come and sit on the bed, and pulls mick's head into his lap and holds his hand.

"Good boys," you tell them, smiling when they both beam at you.

Mick and George are your good boys, so seeing them cuddled up while Mick feels good is perfect, exactly what those two need.

When you're happy with how prepped Mick is, you move to the top of the bed, sitting on the other side of Mick and calling the other three forward.

Toto, bono and Lewis get to take turns fucking Mick, while you and George comfort him and hold him.

By the end Mick is so fucked out he can barely move, just rolls over into your arms and mumbles his thanks.

Toto says behind for aftercare, always extra protective of Mick. So you and Toto clean Mick up, with George staying at mick's side the entire time, not wanting to let his fellow sub out of his sight.

Right before you're about to go to sleep, you get a message from Lewis, asking if he can come back and spend the night.

[prolix-yuy]

The Booth (and All its Misuses)

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader Editor "Murch"

Summary: Dieter is pushing boundaries with the roles he takes. And with you.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, heavy fantasizing including oral sex (m and f receiving) and allusions to PiV sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk like whoa, male masturbation, allusions to female masturbation, Dieter's voice is a weapon.

Notes: That fucking cat show waltzed on in here and made me imagine Dieter recording those ridiculous lines and here we are. It's such a role for him I couldn't resist. This Dieter and Murch are from my series Best Laid Plans, and this story takes place before the events of The Plan. I also have to thank @boliv-jenta for being part of the inspiration for this fic with her hilarious Claude story that I've been giggling over for a couple days now.

Cross-posted on AO3

Best Laid Plans Series Masterlist

“What stupid thing did you sign me up for?”

Dieter’s agent blows a sigh into the phone that makes him wince. He’s still a little hungover despite the IV service he ordered this morning, the grease-laden breakfast sandwich, and the lazy handjob he gave himself in the shower. He thought today was a light day, maybe a press junket in the afternoon he could roll into once the edges of his vision cleared. But instead he’s ushered into a Mercedes and finds himself on the way to a studio to record…

“The voice of a bald horny street cat?” he asks, flipping through the short script. 

“It sounded up your alley…cat,” she quips back, and despite the low ache in the base of his skull he has to admit he enjoys the over-the-top dialogue. A little slutty, artistic, dramatic? Yeah, his agent’s got him pegged well.

His thoughts drift for a moment at the suggestive wording. He should really call Mitsy for another night in.

By the time he exits the car his head has cleared a little, aided by the coffee he whined to pick up and a few more minutes of shuteye. It looks like it’ll be a quick read, only a few pages of dialogue. He sweeps in, heavy brown cardigan flapping behind as he greets the audio tech and director. Their handshakes are straightforward, professional. The tech settles him in the sound booth, testing levels and microphones as the director walks Dieter through the scenes. It’s exactly how it sounds; a lascivious street cat wooing a plump pink hairless counterpart. He’s scrungly but smooth, devilish but dashing. Dieter raises an eyebrow at some of this - are people supposed to be horny for the cats? - but makes no comment.

The read is pretty fun for a one-off job. He leans into the ridiculousness to the director’s delight, and ad libs a few responses. The “follicle divergent” line was a favorite addition. He even turns on the bedroom voice for a few takes. If some classic Dieter filth gets him on their good side, maybe he’ll score something less ridiculous next time. Connections, connections, connections as his agent always says. 

As he finishes up the final page, a door opens on the other side of the glass. His eyes flick up briefly before the words slog to a stop in his mouth.

What are you doing here?

“Problem, Dieter?” the tech asks through Dieter’s headset. It sounds further away than before, like a string between two tin cans instead of Sennheisers. You lean over to address the director, his quick nod dismissing you to sit on a chair in a darkened corner. Dieter swallows hard, shaking off the stumble.

“How do you want me to pronounce ‘gordita’? Throw more accent on it?” he asks, directing their attention away enough to sneak a look at you. Your phone screen illuminates your face, harsh blue light carving your pretty features into something sharp and focused. 

He wants you to look up so he can give you a little nonchalant wave, like it’s no big deal the cute girl who keeps showing up on his movie set and making him laugh is here when he’s reading for a syphilitic cartoon cat. He tries to think up a good line to shoot you when he exits the booth - so this is where you hang out when you’re not on my set, Murch? - but even that falls flat in his head. Plus there’s something about calling you Murch in front of people who don’t know you that makes him cringe. You’ve got enough working against you in Hollywood, you don’t need him tossing out pet names that could lessen their respect for you. He respects the hell out of you in the first place; how hard you work, how everyone likes interacting with you, the trust people have in you to do your job well. Murch is just between the two of you, its own sign of respect. 

He can admit to himself it’s also a sign of a little more than that. Only for him.

He throws himself into the last fifteen minutes of the recording, flourishing his vocals for peak laughs. He wishes you had some headphones on so he could make you roll your eyes or snicker with him, but you’re tapping on your phone up until the tech ends the recording. Dieter gathers himself and feigns casual energy as he exits the booth.

“Need any more takes? We’re running early on my schedule,” he says breezily, letting his gaze fall to you almost by mistake. “Oh, hey, didn’t see you come in. Elias doesn’t have you working today?” He offers a friendly smile, the most professional he’s even been with you. 

“Running drives today,” you say simply, hovering next to the tech while he transfers the audio to a slim hard drive. “The DIT has my footage until 6, so I’m sneaking some extra hours in.” 

Right, you’re still “working your way” in the business, putting in hard days for not enough pay and expected to be happy about it. He’s seen you with lunch orders on set, filling in for a PA or making calls in the home office when shoots are delayed. You’re happiest behind your computer, hands fast on the keyboard and eyes darting over a timeline as you help massage a masterpiece out of the mess. But you’re still working towards that being all you have to do to survive in Hollywood. Maybe after this film you’ll be able to breathe easier. Maybe he could win an Oscar for it and you could be an award-winning editor. It would be nice to win an Oscar for you.

Not for you. For himself. That would just be some icing on the cake, to give you a leg up in the industry where he can. That’s all. 

“That’s all Dieter, you’re wrapped. Sean, take off, you can still make your kid’s game,” the director says, the tech smiling gratefully as he snatches up his bag. A little flash of an idea, born out of wandering thoughts and attraction and foolhardiness, crosses Dieter’s lips.

“Hey, could I use the booth for a little while longer? I’ve got some pickups I need to record for an audiobook and I forgot to book a space,” he asks, silently hoping this moment of assholery might work out. The tech sighs loudly, rubbing a hand over his face, before you chime in.

“I can wait around, I’ve seen Sean do this enough I can figure it out. And I’ll lock up as we leave,” you say, sunny expression lightening the dour mood. It only takes a moment of shuffling for the others to leave, Sean waving a thanks to you as the door swings shut. 

Shit, he only planned this far, now what?

“Well you better hop back in, you’ve only got…17 minutes,” you say, settling into the swivel chair and pulling the huge headphones over your ears. 

“Not even a, ‘hey Di, nice to see you, thank you for brightening up my day with your dramatic cat-acting’? …Cacting? Ooh, I like that,” he says, leaning in the door frame. You smirk and roll your eyes.

“Hi Di, it’s always a pleasure to see your shining face, and whatever you rolled out of bed into. That’s a comfy looking sweater,” you smirk back, redirecting your attention to the soundboard. “Now can you get in there and do your lines so I’m not late getting back?” you say.

“Yes ma’am, thanks again,” he says, shutting the door behind him. A little smile settles on his face that she liked his cardigan, actively dashing it off before he pulls over a chair to the microphone stand. He’s got a reputation to uphold, and getting gooey over a compliment isn’t part of his brand. Settling back into the seat, he pantomimes opening his phone and placing it on the stand in front of him. 

There’s no script, it’s just a ploy, something to get you to stick around and talk to him more. He always enjoys the handful of minutes he gets with you on sets as you wait for dailies or a script revision to bring back to post-production. He wishes you were one of the actors sometimes, stranded on set while the crew reset or shuffled you around, leaving time to chat and open up. He wants to ask you what your favorite memories were, discuss a new art exhibit at length, pop a few edibles and get high enough that your minds could melt into each other, followed by your bodies. But you’re always moving, a skip in your gait like you’re worried about being a step behind. He dreads the day Hollywood tries to beat that drive out of you, make you step on something precious to get ahead. He wants to put his hands on your shoulders and tell you it’s okay to slow down, to walk instead of run, that you don’t deserve to fall into bed exhausted every day just to get up and do it all over again. 

“Do you need me to keep an ear on your recording?” you say, hand hovering over the button as you look at Dieter through the glass. He twists a crooked smile onto his face, his improvisation skills helping him navigate the conversation.

“It’s an erotic audiobook, so I’ll leave that up to you Murch,” he says, winking. You roll your eyes again, hitting record before reaching to mute yourself. “Wait, before you do that, how’s your day been?” he asks, slouching into his chair with spread thighs. He likes to see if you’ll look, give him any hint that you may be as interested in him as he finds you.

“Not too bad, Di, living the dream,” you say, leaning forward on your elbows with a smile. “Post’s coming along good, you’re getting better at not spitting every time you shout at Alé.”

“They keep asking me to drink during that scene, it gets me all drooly!” he retorts, the tinny laugh coming through his headset warming his chest. He really likes the way your eyes scrunch up when he gets a good giggle out of you, that you’ll laugh with your whole body if he gets it right. 

“Besides that, nothing special. You looking forward to the scenes you get to shoot in Rome?”

“Looking forward to being told I can’t have any pasta. What else are you supposed to eat in the city of love?” You laugh again, goosebumps tingling along Dieter’s neck at how intimate the sound is coming through his headphones.

“I’m pretty sure that’s Paris.”

“Tell me you’ve never fallen in love with a pasta alla vodka.”

“You eat all the things you love, Bravo?”

“Some of them,” he purrs, dropping his voice down an octave and tilting his head. You shake yours with an exasperated sigh, but he thinks he sees your eyelashes flutter. He’s about to elaborate - I do love pussy, and not just the weird cat I’ve been reading for - when the glow of your phone directs your eyes down.

“Shit, I’m blowing up,” you curse, scrolling quickly. “Are you good to go?”

Dieter nods his head, squaring up his chair and adjusting the microphone stand down to his level.

“I’ve got it Murch, you take care of business. Thanks for doing me a favor,” he says, trying not to let the disappointment bleed into his voice. You shoot him a tight smile before muting yourself, red light blinking in his view. You watch the screen for a moment before taking off your headphones and diving back into your phone, alternating typing and scrolling.

The silence of the room lays heavy on his shoulders, the warmth of your voice slowly fading. He feigns opening up something on his phone, a blank webpage all that actually stares back at him. Wetting his lips, he wonders what the hell to say to make it look like he’s not just dicking around in here.

“Hey Murch,” he finally settles on, keeping his eyes glued to his phone, now dark enough to reflect his face back at him, your blurry silhouette in the corner of his eye.

“It’s nice to see you today. You haven’t been on set in a bit. Things must be ramping up in your edit bay. They’re keeping you busy, that’s for sure. Or you’re keeping yourself busy. Because you know, you work really hard. I see it. Everyone does.” He clears his throat briefly, eyes snapping up to you. You flick your own up, a question on your face, but he just thumbs-ups you. 

“What would you do if you got a break? What does the lovely Murch do on a day off?” he says, his throat catching a little on lovely. “I think you like a big breakfast, something with fruit in it. You like…mangos, right? I’m pretty sure you said that once. Or peaches.” The phantom flavors drift along his tongue. “And then I’d bet you’d want to do something outside, especially if it’s nice out. Get out of that dark basement. Wear something light and breezy.”

It occurs to Dieter he’s never seen you in anything more than jeans and a t-shirt. What would you look like with your shoulders bare, legs on display, breasts scooped into a flattering neckline and ass swishing along? Did you even like pretty summer dresses? God he hoped you did. You would look fucking delicious.

A tightening in his groin alerts Dieter to a path his brain probably shouldn’t go down, but it’s the Wizard of Oz in there and his libido is following the yellow brick road. He licks his lips at the thought of you turning to wait for him, a flirty hemline skimming along your thighs. If a little breeze kicked up the skirt would flutter just a little too high for your liking, making you smooth it back down. And he’d be helpless to stop from falling to his knees and ducking his head under it.

His cock is at full attention now, straining against his slacks. He tries to shake off this train of thought, redirect to something that will refocus him, but every time he glances up to take in your features, your attention elsewhere, only hardens him more. 

“Fuck, you’d look good in something like that. You look good all the time.” Dieter’s hand clenches on his thigh, dangerously close to crossing a line. An irrelevant notification lights up his screen - ten more minutes of studio time. He squeezes his eyes shut, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth.

He shouldn’t. You’d be grossed out if he did, violated. Probably scream at him, call him a filthy little slut. 

Fuck, his pesky degradation kink’s not helping.

“Shit, Murch, you got me hard in a fucking sound booth. I can’t even get this hard this fast watching porn. What the fuck have you done to me?” he husks out, running a hand over his face. His cock bobs in his pants, the mistake of even alluding to porn in the same breath as your name furthering his thoughts. Because now that he’s said it, all the little scenarios he lies to himself about jacking off to come to the forefront unbidden.

The way the slip of your tongue over your lower lip makes him want to follow it with the head of his cock, fat and weeping at your hot breath. 

How your hands moving along a keyboard make him wonder how they’d look wrapped around his shaft, pulling him to the brink expertly before easing him back.

The fact that there’s a couch in that dark little room you work in that calls for him to fuck you on it over and over again.

You put down your phone right as he’s spiraling, imagining how you’d look spread on your back on that beat-up monstrosity as he hovers over you, and slip your headphones back on. He coughs once, hoping his face isn’t too red.

“You doing okay Di?” you ask, a note of concern coming through.

Busted. 

He shifts in his chair, his erection thankfully hidden by his low seat and the little stand his phone rests on. 

“Hah, yeah, just…getting through some of this dialogue.”

You smirk, chin in your hand.

“What, a little too spicy for THE Dieter Bravo?” you say, and have the audacity to pull the corner of your lip between your teeth. 

Well never mind then. He was going to be the gentleman and suffer in silence. But if you were going to insist on egging him on when he was just imagining how sweet your cunt would taste, then he’s going to play a little dirty.

“You can be the judge of that,” he says airily, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“I’ve read my fair share of romance novels. I don’t think you’ll surprise me.”

Oh, it’s really on now.

“Then listen in. Maybe you’ll learn something new.”

You settle back into your chair, motioning for Dieter to begin. He rolls his shoulders, putting both hands on the stand and pulling focus to his phone. His grayscale reflection is remarkably confident for how rippling his insides feel. Pulling from memories of early gigs that were a hair shy of softcore pornos and his own racing thoughts, he writes you a story.

“I fucking want you. Keep telling myself no but I fucking want you,” he growls, puffing hard out his nose. Your reaction is immediate; your eyes snap wide, mouth parting. He wants to look you in the eyes as he improvises a scene but doing that and trying to keep his composure above the waist is proving too much. His lips brush hard against the microphone, his whiskers scraping along the sensitive instrument.

“I’d make it so good for you, make you mine so many times you’d have to spend the night. Would you like that? For me to take care of you so fully, so completely, you wouldn’t be able to walk out after? Because I want you like that every. Single. Day. Let me make you feel so fucking good, baby.”

You’re trying to keep a neutral face but he can see it. The tremble of your lower lip. The rigidness of your posture. He would bet his summer house you were squeezing your thighs under the control table. God, he wants to be on the other side of the glass and saying these things in your ear, lips brushing against your skin. Filthier things too, like how he wants you to cum so hard it drips down your legs for him to lick up. That he’ll stretch you so good on his cock, make you drunk with pleasure every moment you let him. 

“Because you deserve to feel like a goddess. You do so much for me, baby, let me give you even an ounce of that back to you. I’ll be so good for you, sweetheart, treat you better than that goddamn shithead of an ex that was never worth your time.”

Dieter’s running his mouth as close to the truth as he thinks he can get away with, sneaking glances up to see how you react. Your arms are folded in a picture of ease, but he can see how your fingers dig into your bicep. He drops his voice into a lower register, rumbling deep but with a gentle quality he enjoys utilizing for narration.

“He lets her ride his buttery slick thighs, buried so deep he can’t tell where her pleasure ends and his begins. He doesn’t care as long as she keeps throwing her head back like that and crying his name. If his heart gave out now he’d die happy with the musk of her on his lips and her velvet walls clenched around him. Even though she’s already cum twice he urges her into a third with his clever thumb and a grin when she shatters.” Dieter’s half impressed at himself for thinking on his feet, the words quickening the rise and fall of your chest. Your cunt must be on fire from this, he hopes he’s not the only one aching. You can’t be unaffected, not with the way you can’t look away, gaze tight on his face when he looks up. He’s got one more tiny idea that could get him in trouble, or make the tension thread between you finally snap. Leaning forward, he looks through his lashes at you. You’re holding your breath.

“Be a good girl for me, baby.”

Your reaction is instant. Blinking hard and flaring your nostrils, your grip gets even tighter. Your skin must be blazing hot, the heat between your thighs unbearable. He wants to soothe it with his tongue, quench it with his fingers as you fist his hair and tell him how good he’s making you feel. His cock is hard to the point of exploding in his pants, the telltale tingle in his hips warning him that it’s all too possible. 

A question hangs on the tip of his tongue, one he’s so prepared to ask:

Want some help with that Murch?

You jump suddenly, the faint clanging of an alarm on the other side of the glass a shock to his own system.

MotherFUCKER.

“Sorry Di, time’s up. I gotta get moving,” you stammer, shakily pressing buttons to stop the recording and transfer the data. He tosses the headphones off quickly, taking the briefest of moments to wrap his cardigan around his middle to hide the prominence of his erection. He saunters back into the room with a smug smile.

“Now who’s gotten all flustered?” he teases, hopeful you won’t bolt from his sight. The balance is precarious now, a tiny nudge in the direction he desires setting everything off balance. Thankfully you chuckle and shake your head.

“That’s really paying your bills? I swear I’ve read better online for free,” you say, sticking in a loose USB stick and transferring the “audiobook” over for him. Dieter hovers in case you open the file, but you only hand him the drive with an overly bright smile. He takes it from you, searching your face for any hint of the titillation he caught earlier.

“You’ll have to send me your favorites, I’ll record them for a good price,” he drawls, leaning on one hand in your space. It’s a dance he’s done with you in the past, but never with so much charge in the air. He can almost taste the electricity between you, and when you meet his eyes there’s a flash of something deeper, something you won’t let come to the surface so you tamp it down with a dramatic sigh.

“Why would I want my scorching hot erotica in your voice?” you joke, his hands coming up in mock hurt before he winks at you. You shake your head and put the hard drive you came here for in your bag. 

“See you on set?” he asks, and god he sounds pitiful to his own ears but you tilt your head and smile, hand on the knob to leave.

“I’ll be around,” you say before leaving him in the booth in silence and his own tangle of thoughts.

A bolt of arousal claws down his spine, a filthy moan falling from his lips.

“Sweetheart, I’m so goddamn hard for you. I need you to look at me. Look at me and I’ll cum so hard. Just fucking look at me. See me. See what you do to me?” His hand moves faster, fingers catching along the thick ridge of his head, the need almost painful as his mind conjures the image. Your lips pursed, eyes still cast down as he whimpers into a microphone.

“Want you to put those talented fingers inside your panties and rub your clit on the other side of this window. Let me whisper all the fucking depraved shit I want to do to you, how I want to lick and finger and fuck every hole until you beg me to stop. I’ll be…such a…good boy for you.” He’s on the knife’s edge, looking down into the chasm, heavy breaths making it harder to hide. “Let me…be your good boy, sweetheart. Please, look at me.” 

And in the moment before he cums, you look up and catch his eye. 

It’s a livewire to his cock, and he empties onto his stomach with ragged cries. He’s begging it to hurry up, be as fleeting of an orgasm as when he pumps it into some starlet wanting a night with his publicity, but it keeps rolling and rolling over him, shuddering breaths and clamping legs. Tears come to his eyes because even with how fucking good it feels, he knows it could be so much better. He knows a night with you would be a million fucking times better than his hand and his phone next to his ear playing the soft laughs he coaxed out of you. That you’d make him cum, but you’d also make him smile, and preen, and maybe even glow.

Shame burns along his chest at how fucking sad this must look, legendary playboy Dieter Bravo, who could open his hotel room door and have anyone on his cock that he pleases, covered in his own cum while your voice tells him Paris is the city of love. 

Stopping the recording, he flops an arm over his face. He’s gotta get you out of his system, invite you to one of his parties for one really good fuck then send you on your happy little way. You could brag about bedding him, about how many orgasms he gave you and how much he’s ruined you for other men. And he could scratch the itch buried between his shoulders that flares when you trade good-natured barbs. Clear his head of this weird little infatuation he hasn’t experienced since he was 25 and drunk off his first love. 

That’s it, he’ll do what he always does. Make you feel like the center of his world for a night and part happy and satiated. It might finally ease the giddiness you bring with the swing of your hips. Maybe it will finally feed the emptiness inside him when the drugs peter off and his skin feels too tight and all he wants to do is find the next high or low to distract him.

But first, he’s gotta get you to accept his invitation.

END

[formula1fanfiction]

Esteban Ocon / Mick Schumacher

Title: Secrets and surprises

Pairing: Esteban Ocon / Mick Schumacher

Characters: Mick Schumacher, Esteban Ocon

Prompt: Esteban and Mick are finally reunited after some time apart, fluffy sexy times ensue.

It's the end of another mediocre race weekend for Esteban, it feels like things are going from bad to worse at the moment, his car is fucking awful at the best of times but things had only been made worse from contact from his teammate. Fucking Pierre, Esteban would love to strangle that mouthy idiot right now.

But on top of all that, since Mick stepped down as Mercedes race driver to drive for Alpine in  the world endurance championships it feels like they never see each other anymore. In fact, he can't remember the last time, Mick is a great support and he's in touch with Esteban all the time but a text just isn't the same as a warm hug.

Esteban pushes the door of his hotel room open, he's ready for a shower and a good night's sleep and just forget about Japan, hopefully things can improve a little bit in China.

"Surprise."  Mick is laying in the middle of Esteban's bed, his hands behind his head with a huge smile on his face. There couldn't be a more beautiful sight. "What are you doing here?"

"I only got here this morning, I had wanted to spend the whole weekend with you but things didn't go to plan, anyway we both have some free time and I thought we could spend it in Japan-" Esteban cuts off Mick by pressing their lips together, it feels perfect to finally have his boyfriend in his arms again.

"I've missed you so much Mick, fuck." Esteban is hovering above Mick's body. "What do you want, Estie?" The older man leans down and presses his lip against Mick, the kiss is soft and full of love. Mick gets the hint quickly pulls away quickly and helps Esteban to take his shirt off, letting it drop onto the floor, his own soon following.

"So lucky to have you." Esteban growls into Mick's skin and kisses his down Mick's body, all the way from his chest, down his stomach until he reaches the hem of Mick's track pants. "Do you want this?" Esteban digs his fingers into the waist band of his pants and waits for permission.

"It's been months, of course I do." Esteban chuckles and pulls down Mick's shorts and pants together in one swift move. Mick's cock springs to life and slaps against his stomach in the process of it. "You do want it baby."

Esteban doesn't waste any more time and takes Mick's hard cock into his hand and starts to stroke the younger mans member as slow as possible. Mick allows this to go on for a few seconds before he starts to whine and buck up his hips. "So needy." Mick laughs. "How are you not? Like I said, it's been months." Esteban has always prided himself on staying in control but he does stop teasing and leans down, sucking Mick's cock into his mouth.

Esteban takes the whole of Mick's dick into his mouth, and starts to bob his head up and down the shaft, teasing at the sensitive head every time he reaches the tip. It isn't long until Mick's reduced to a babbling mess, withering around on the bed. "Estie please, I won't last." Mick cries out, just as Esteban pulls off, smirking down at the younger man. Esteban reaches over for the draw in the night stand and pulls out a bottle of lube.

"Why do you even have lube, if i'm not around?" Mick whines from the loss of contact around his dick, watching as Esteban pours a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. "I haven't seen you for months Mick, i'm obviously going to need to jerk off." Mick nods, satisfied with the answer and lays back into the pillows, spreading his legs wide.

Esteban settles down between Mick's leg and presses a finger against his entrance, gently stroking around the area. "Come on Estie, don't tease." Esteban doesn't waste any more time and lets the finger sink inside.

Mick grips tightly onto the bed sheet as Esteban enters a single digit, giving it a quick twist, before he starts to push in and out of the younger man's body. Esteban quickly adds a second digit and scissors the younger man, feeling him stretch perfectly around him. Esteban eventually works his way up to three fingers and only then does he pull out. "Are you ready?" Mick can only nod only response.

Esteban pushes down his own pants and boxers and kicks them onto the floor, his own cock finally released and begging for attention. "I can't wait to be inside of you, fuck." He pours the remainder of the lube onto his cock, then presses himself against Mick's glistening hole.

The moan that escapes Mick's mouth is something that dreams are made of, once Esteban sinks inside and inch at a time, teasing Mick, by letting him feel every inch slowly. "Come on Estie, please." With one last push, Esteban bottoms out inside of him.

 "Just can't wait, can you." Esteban tsks, Mick is about to make a smart come back but Esteban chooses that moment, to pull the whole way out, only to slam back inside of him, causing Mick's eyes to roll to the back of his head in pure pleasure.

Esteban sets a slow, deep rhythm, just wanting to enjoy the feeling of Mick being wrapped tightly around him, making cute little moans with every thrust, fuck it's been too long.  He doesn't want it be some quick rough fuck, they have the next few days for that.

"You're so beautiful Mick." Esteban peppers little kisses over every available inch of Mick's face, while angling his thrusts ever so slightly until he hits that bundle of nerves inside of Mick. "Please." Mick cries out at throws his head against the pillow.

"Do you need come, love?" Mick nods eagerly, pushing up his hips, Esteban wastes no more time and wraps his fingers around the younger man's cock and strokes him in rhythm with his own thrusts. Esteban's hand is moving as slow as his cock, but it's still enough to push Mick over the edge. He moans loudly and jerks his hips as he spills his seed over Esteban finger tips.

Mick tightens down around him during his orgasm, squeezing his cock, perfectly. He knows he can't last much longer, it's been too long since he's had Mick like this. He manages three more thrusts, before following suit and fills Mick with his milky white seed, stripe after stripe until he collapses down beside him, breathless.

Esteban pulls the younger man in for a cuddle, his head resting on Esteban's chest. "Maybe we could spend the next few days in bed."

[gayf1hoe]

Part 7

I turn over and can see a ray of light piercing through the gap in the curtains and whining at the discomfort before getting up. I decided to actually make an effort today as I'm going to spend it with Charles. I quickly hop in the shower, brush my teeth and do my skin care before turning my attention to the mess that is my wardrobe. After shifting everything around I finally found a white button up shirt and a pair of shorts and decided that they are a good match for the summer's day in Monaco. I sigh to myself "When people say F1 drivers are rich and have great fashion I would love for them to look at my closet".

I quickly head downstairs when I'm greeted by a smiley Danny Ric, “What's gotten into you” I say as he stands in front of me smiling ear to ear. “Nothing much, so are you doing anything fun today?”, as I pour myself some juice I say “Yep I'm going to The Nouveau Musée National de Monaco… with Charles”. As I begin to move away Danny follows me asking more questions like “So what can you see there? Is it a nice place? What are you going to do after?” He continues this for another 2 minutes before I say “Danny, is there something you want to ask me?” I can see him contemplating something and then he asks “Why are you going with Charles?”, “Erm because I thought it would be a nice thing to do to get to know each other”. After I give him this answer he presses on “so it's not a date?”, “I laugh, “do you honestly think I would take someone on a date to a museum, do you think I'm that boring?” He forcefully laughs at my response and spends the whole time chatting with me whilst the other drivers are on the other table watching how many grapes Lando can fit in his mouth.

I sit at the table with Zhou and Lance who are the only ‘normal ones' not participating in the grape talent show. As I sit down Lance greets me “Hey M/N” we haven't spoken yet but I have heard nothing but good things about him, I know he has this persona of being a bad driver and that he's only in F1 because of his dad, whilst it's undeniable his dad does play some role in him being part of the Aston Martin team no amount of money will get a driver this far they have to have some talent and if Lance wasn't serious and passionate about F1 he would of left already because no one would stand the amount of hate he gets. We spend time talking about Silverstone where Lance picked up P5 and Zhou P9.

Lance is incredibly over excited about my win, more than me if truth to be told, Lance is like me an introvert which helps me get along with him. Whilst he is evidently an introvert, I am not and people often confuse me for being extroverted when the truth is I'm just comfortable around certain people.

As it approaches 9 I head to the lobby and see Charles standing behind one of the marble pillars so I decide to seek up behind him and scare him but he turns around and says “there is a mirror on the opposite wall you idiot” we share a laugh and an awkward silence of staring into eachothers eyes before I break the silence and say “so shall we head to the museum I can drive, the team have provided me with a car”, “hmm me in a Mercedes will we even make it there” he says whilst laughing “hey you drive for ferrari don't you have a therapist because of them” he jovially hits me round the back of the head before signalling towards the door. As we leave Danny walks past and shouts “Have fun” whilst winking, Chalres sighs “dickhead” as we are walking down the steps of the hotel exit. We walk round to the parking lot and sit in the Mercedes-Benz A-Class and Charles says “They actually trust you with a car this expensive”, “of course they do I'm their best driver but don't tell George or Lewis” as I am driving down the streets of Monaco the sound of the radio is barely audible so I break the silence by asking “so what's it like to be home?”,

“You know it's quite nice, you know sometimes I don't realise how much I miss this place and my family and I'm sure you're aware of what it's like to be away from your family. You will be pleased to know that when I got home Arthur did shout at me for pushing you of the track, my brother is literally your biggest fan so at the Grand Prix on Saturday expect to see him following you around like a lost puppy”

I laugh at his last sentence “aww I love Arthur so much he has so much talent and potential” he looks at me in disbelief and like I have just offered him “you don't like him more than me though?”, I suck the air through my teeth. “Well Arthur is a bit more comedic.” He hyperbolically gasps like a child and threatens to leave if I don't say he is better than Arthur so I concur and agree he is the better brother.

As we arrive at the museum I pay for the tickets and the first place we go to is the “Historical Literature” section and Charles whines “ of all the places you could go to first you pick the most boring one”. One thing about me is that I am a massive bookworm and love reading as a form of relaxation so being able to look at books and artefacts from history is like a dream aside from racing.

We spend about half an hour in this room looking at every single thing on display and reading the information screens before Charles drags me to the fossil exhibit and he acts like an excitable child making me take photos of him next to each and every fossil and then when we reach the ancient dinosaur exhibit there is one of those things for you to put your heads in they makes you look like a dinosaur (which is meant for children), Charles makes some poor worker take a photo of us I can tell she's loving my reluctance and Chalres’ enthusiasm.

After embarrassing me I make Charles go into the Art Gallery which makes him extremely bored, he's constantly checking his watch so to make it more interesting I sign us up for the art class where we have to draw a bowl of fruit, we spend 45 minutes and my final piece sort of resembles the bowel of fruit however it is no De Vinci, however Charles being the child he is drew a Banana and two apples that are in a position that represent a certain male external organ. He falls to the floor erupting into uncontrollable laughter and everyone is now looking at him, more than likely judging how this man in his 20s is actually in his 20s.

We decide that we have had enough of the museum so decide to head to the local family owned restaurant where Charles knows the owners well. When we arrive we are greeted with the scent of freshly baked goods and an owner who is overly excited to see Charles “Ah Charles my son, you are back as always, table for two” the owner inquires “it's great to see you too, yes table for two” he leads us to a table on the veranda that overlooks a field which has a small lake on it. As we order food I see Charles looking at me the whole time and when it comes to ordering he states his order first “Chicken Caesar Salad please” I smile and say “ i'll have the same too please” we spend ages just talking about life and how it's been recently and we are laughing away at embarrassing childhood stories like the time I was on a karting track in the Netherlands at the age of 7 and was throwing a tantrum and out of anger I threw my water bottle which ended up hitting someone but not anyone …. Jos Verstappen…. It's now become common knowledge that Jos has never forgiven me but now I have come to realise what he's like, my only regret is that it wasn't metal.

But then Charles changes the tone of the conversation, “Hey M/N I need to talk to you about something serious” I can tell he is nervous so I quietly say “sure I'm all ears”, he then asks me “How did you know you were gay?” This question is one I get asked often but it never gets any easier to answer “I don't know around 11 I realised that I started to find men attractive and women just didn't appeal to me and I put the thought off until I was about 14 not wanting to be gay and wanting to be ‘normal' but I realised that gay is normal and I shouldn't be ashamed of who I am and I came to the terms with the fact women can be pretty but I just don't find them attractive” he nods in acknowledgement.

He then asks “What was it like being the first openly gay F1 driver I know Mike Beuttler was rumoured to be gay but you are the first open one” I question where all this has come from but I answer regardless “well I suppose it was scary at first I was absolutely scared of rejection, abuse and people treating me differently but then I guess I learnt to not care what people say or think about me I made it clear that my sexuality doesn't affect who or how I race and it's not an important part of my career but rather a small piece that makes me unique, and being the first openly gay F1 driver I got to learn the art of insulting Journalists from the best in the business Kimi Räikkönen”.

I can see him taking it all in and not wanting to be too intrusive I ask “why do you ask?” He signs and puts his head in his hands before looking me in the eye and says “I think…. I think I might be gay” he says with tears forming in the corner of his eyes, I freeze in silence I've never been in this situation before I have no gay friends and it's normally me who's coming out, I quickly snap out of it and side hug Charles and say “No matter what you are I will always support you, your family, friends, team, fans will always be here to support you. You never have to feel rushed to identify yourself with a label” he looks at me a smiles and says “thanks M/N you're a great friend”

We spend the next 2 hours just talking about what being gay is like, what it means ‘to be gay’ and how Charles can come to terms with himself.

It's now early evening and the restaurant starts to fill up with evening reservations, so I decide to take Charles somewhere quiet, I park alongside the road and take him down a narrow path that I remember from my childhood of visiting Monaco we follow the path and it leads to an open beach with the incandescent sun slowly setting, the sea lapping on to the golden, fine sand we take a seat on the jagged rocks that provide a retreat from the tide that gets closer and closer.

We sit for a while before Charles leans on my shoulder and I begin to speak

“I know we have made up, but I want you to know that when we first met I never intended to piss you off or get on your bad side, however I'm glad I did otherwise I don't think we would be this close right now, you know whatever you decide I will always support you and be here for you and as my mum would say “life isn't a destination it's a journey and sometimes you will have to take the hard road to get to where you want to be” and I want you to know I will help you get to that destination wherever and however far it may be”.

By now Charles is crying into my shoulder I can feel the dampness seeping through onto my bare skin. I pull his face up and wipe his tears with my team jumper sleeve and wrap it around him, however Chalres being Charles says “I can't believe I'm wearing a Mercedes team jumper ” we both break out in laughter.

We spend the next hour alone staring into the abyss, talking here and there but no full conversations. By now it's 9 pm and it's almost dark so I decide to take Charles back to his house and I walk him to his door as he is inside he looks at me and says “thank you for today I really enjoyed it'', “no problem” I smile before I turn around he cups my face, leans in and kisses me, I don't even contemplate it before kissing him back we stay like this for the next minute what feels like an eternity of joy, as we both pull away we smile looking intently into each other's eyes before he says “that felt amazing”, “yeah it really did” I respond out of breath. He smiles and says “good night” I reply with a “good night” before heading back to my car and driving to the hotel.

As I arrive back at the hotel I am met by Danny, I'm starting to feel like this man has a tracker on me “so how was your day?” he asks “good” I reply bluntly, “so where did you go?” he asks super inquisitively “the museum like I said this morning” I reply, “You must have gone somewhere else you left at 9 this morning and it's now 10 so you're telling me you spent 13 hours at a museum”, this man looks so pleased with himself, “well no we went for food and went to the beach for a while, now I'm going to bed because my energy is depleted, good night Danny” I walk off before he can ask another question and I hear him shout “NIGHT M/N”.

“That man” I sigh whilst reaching my room. I walk in and instantly crash on my bed, replaying the kiss over and over in my mind. When I get a text.

----

Mick: Hey M/N just landed in Nice and I am about to hop in a taxi to Monaco, can't wait to see you at Quali tomorrow!

[ghostiewriter]

JJ was fucking sick of it all. 

He was sick and tired of being poked and prodded and asked the same fifty questions on a loop as they wheeled him in and out of different medical tests, just for them all to come back and say the same thing. 

He was fine. He was a bit roughed up, and the broken ribs weren’t exactly helping his case considering it hurt to breathe deeply at that current moment. But he was fine. He could’ve been far worse, and he was grateful that (hopefully) some rest for the next four weeks would see him safe enough to get back in the car before the next race. 

He hated hospitals on a normal day, but knowing that Guiseppe was actively pushing for him to have test after test was putting the old Italian man further down his list for each day he spent locked up in the hospital room. 

He didn’t want to be here right now. 

He wanted to be in a different hospital room. He wanted to be with Kiara. He wanted the nurses and doctors to stop ignoring his questions like he was a whining child. He wanted to know if she was okay because it had been almost two days since he last saw her with his own eyes, since he jumped out of that medic bay bed despite the pain coursing through his body just so he could stop her from hitting the ground. 

It has been almost two days since the massive blow up and nobody was telling him shit, and it was starting to get to him. 

He had a few drivers visit before they left to head off with their summer break plans. John B had been the first to visit, a grim expression on his face when he saw one of his oldest friends in the hospital bed. He was surprised that the other Mercedes driver, Klaus König, showed up too. There were a few others, the ones that JJ had remained friendly and cordial with over the years. 

Neither Red Bull driver bothered showing their face—and he was thankful for that. He didn’t have much against Octavian, but if Rafe had shown his face, JJ didn’t think he would apologise for what he did. 

But Nate also didn’t show up. 

JJ tried not to feel hurt by the action. He knew that Nate was going through a lot, that he was hurting and he was confused. Hell, JJ was still quite confused himself. But a small part of him hoped that Nate would visit, that he would pop his head in because it meant he was here. It meant that he had seen Kiara. 

But John B was the one to break it to him that the older Carrera sibling was spotted back in Monaco a few hours after the race. 

His chest tightened a little at the implications. 

The only regular visitor he had was Sarah Cameron, which was a shock to him too. He was friendly with the younger Cameron, in the same way you could be with passing greetings and polite smiles. But he knew she was close to Kiara, he knew she cared about Kiara. He didn’t realise she would care enough to check up on him too. 

And despite her checkups, she refused to say much about Kiara’s condition. She said it was because there wasn’t much to update him on, but it wasn’t good enough for him. 

So, when a knock sounded on his door, he didn’t even lift his head up from his phone screen as he spoke. 

“Miss me already, Cameron?” he called out in a teasing voice, his eyes glancing over a variety of messages he received from his team over the last few days. However, when he received no snarky reply in return, he lifted his head. 

Only to find it wasn’t Sarah Cameron at his door, but Anna Carrera. 

“Mrs—” he cut himself short when she gave him a pointed look. A shy smile spread across his face as he sat up in bed. “Anna. You’re here.” 

“I am,” she said with a somewhat strained smile. “You look…well.” 

But JJ noticed it. He noticed the weariness in her expression. He noticed the bags under her eyes, the stress of the last few days and the toll it took on her. He noticed the way she was wringing her fingers together, as though she didn’t even realise what she was doing. He noticed the way she swallowed a little too harshly, and he wondered how long she had been trying to keep herself together. 

“You don’t have to pretend around me,” he said in a softer voice. “You don’t have to pretend like you aren’t worried.” 

In all honesty, JJ couldn’t imagine what Anna Carrera was going through. He knew that Nate’s accident a few years ago had hit her hard, that it scared her badly enough that her son still raced. He wondered if she was watching the race, if she saw the Ferrari go off and fear that it was her son once again.

But his words seemed to break some resolve inside Anna because the second he stopped talking, she was striding across the room towards him. JJ barely had a moment to blink before Anna’s arms were wrapped around him, one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head. 

“Thank god you’re okay,” Anna breathed out, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders now that he was in her arms. “I was so worried.” 

“Oh,” was all JJ was able to say in response because he didn’t quite think this would be a possibility. 

He thought his crash would’ve brought up bad memories. He thought she would’ve been concerned at the fact it could’ve been her son. He thought about every other possibility except that Anna Carrera would be worried about him.

“I tried to weasel some information out of Nate but he didn’t know how you were doing,” Anna admitted as she pulled back, holding his face like a mother would. 

JJ found himself enjoying the touch. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Anna murmured. 

His brows furrowed together. “For crashing?” 

But Anna shook her head. “JJ, honey, you almost lost your life and you’re sitting here stronger than ever. That takes a lot of strength to do so, even if you don’t want to admit it.” 

“I think more people would be upset that I cost the team and myself a win,” he mused as he tried to keep his voice casual. 

“Those people’s opinions aren’t worth your time then,” Anna stated simply. 

JJ stared at the woman in front of him. From the sincerity in her eyes to the genuine belief she had in her words, it made his throat close up and his chest tighten—and a sickly sweet voice in the back of his head telling her she was right. Those people weren’t worth his time even if he didn’t want to hear it. 

“Uh,” he cleared his throat, trying not to think of how warm his cheeks felt. “How’s Kiara? Have you been able to see her?”

A slow smile spread across Anna’s face. “The nurses told me you’ve been asking about her.” 

“Have they also told you how they’ve avoided answering my questions?” JJ asked with raised brows. 

“They said you were persistent,” she laughed as she perched herself on the edge of the bed, just by his knees. “She’s doing okay. She’s stable, but she’s not staying awake for longer than a few minutes at a time.” 

His lips turned downwards. “Will she be okay?” 

“She will, honey, don’t worry,” Anna assured him as she reached for his hand, squeezing it softly. “Her body just needs some time to rest.”

“I’m sorry—” he started but Anna shook her head. 

“Whatever happened was not your fault,” Anna said. 

“It wasn’t hers either,” JJ added quickly. “Or Nate’s. Not really. I mean, he could’ve handled it better but Rafe—”

“JJ,” she called softly, letting the boy take a breath. “I know.”

“I want to see her,” he admitted. 

“You need to rest as well,” Anna told him. “Kie won’t be happy if she knew you were risking your own health to see her.” 

“I would at least like them to update me about her then,” he huffed out, almost whining like a child. 

“I’ll keep you updated now that I’m here,” Anna said with a soft laugh, squeezing his hand once again. “Thank you for what you’ve been to Kiara these last few months. You’ve helped her grow out of her shell a little.” 

“She’s helped me too,” JJ responded, almost instinctively. 

“I’m sure she has,” Anna smiled knowingly, and it should’ve made him uneasy. But something about Anna Carrera’s presence comforted him. 

Maybe that was just the effect the Carrera women had on him.

...

[nicolesainz]

New Romantics (Part VIII)

Carlos Sainz x OC x Mason Mount

Chapter 9

(and yes, those pics can rise me up from my deathbed)

Warnings: none! mostly fluff (since this is the first part of the finale, things will be smoother)

Also you can tell how much I love Slilverstone 2022 by the way I’ve memorized the commentary.

Note : there’s a hidden song in this part. When you see it, click play. It’s how I imagined this situation in my head and the song fit perfectly!

taglist memebers : @alwaysclassyeagle

Ah! We are finally here. It’s the Silverstone race weekend. The home of Formula One. Home race to the two Mercedes driver, Lewis Hamilton & George Russell, to Williams’s Alex Albon and of course, to my beloved brother.

Also it’s the only Grand Prix where I don’t have to fly to another country and carry a suitcase. Another reason why I love it so much. I know this track by heart and I could even walk it blindfolded.

This time, me and Mason had company during this weekend. Well, for two days, but still. Reece was with us, since Chelsea didn’t have any scheduled matches this weekend. It was nice to get along with his teammates.

Instead of posting stories around an F1 paddock or racing cars, I post about the men in London Blue and tag Mason under every single one of them. After the games, he reposts them, but every single time I look at my views, the same username comes up first

carlossainz55

I thought he had unfollowed me a long time ago. Years ago. But as it seems he hadn’t. He’s only hurting himself. Not me. I’m with the man I love and has treasured me. Mason has been nothing but a sweetheart and a gentleman.

When I told him I love him, I meant every word. I was scared of his reaction but thankfully when he replied with the exact same words a sigh of relief left my lungs.

Mason made me feel comfortable, happy, and overall excited to be with him. I never bore to tell Carlos my true feelings so by shoving them down my throat, they faded away.

It was the first time in two years, that I felt safe to be at a paddock again, without having to worry about seeing him. Whether Mason protected me or not, he was my boyfriend and I my heart beat for him.

“How are you feeling babe?” Mason’s arm caressed my bare shoulder as it was hanging loose from.

“Pretty well. I’m actually quite enjoying this” I reply, actually being in a really good mood.

I flash my boyfriend a smile and he pecks my lips with a soft kiss.

“Really? Cause back in the day you’d whine about how boring this was!” My brother showed up out of nowhere, trying to put on his balaclava.

“I didn’t have anyone to talk with! It was only you and Carlos, who 100% of the time were racing!”

“Oh yeah, now you have your all charming boyfriend. I forgot, sorry” Lando rolled his eyes playfully and earned a smack in the arm from me

“Please tell me you’re not bringing him again! You pay more attention to Mason than your own brother”

“You know I’m listening, right?” Mason raised his eyebrow at my brother

“Oh fuck off, you know I’m joking. I love having you both here. I just miss my baby sister” Lando messes up my hair a little bit by ruffling them.

“Don’t worry mate, you’re lucky some of the games are outside of London, so I won’t be attending more of the GP’s. Even if I wanted to, Potter would kill me if I missed any practice or even game!”

It was true. Mason had to prepare for the upcoming Premier League games, help Chelsea get maximum points before leaving for the World Cup. I was going to bounce back between races and games, but it would be extremely tiring and difficult.

“Just take care of her! That’s all I’m asking. I trust you Mount” Lando pat Mason’s back in a friendly way, before putting on his helmet and jumping in the car

Lando knew about the whole issue with Carlos. He didn’t appreciate it when he found out and was more than mad at him. He even blocked his number, which I begged him not to, because he’s best friends with him and I didn’t want to ruin a friendship like theirs. Now, he seems more relaxed when Mason is around me.

It was pouring chairs and qualifying was about to start. London is used to such gloomy and rainy weather but the conditions were quite dangerous. I still remember what happened in Belgium last year and I hated myself for not being close to my brother when that occurred. I instantly flew to Belgium only for his sake.

Seeing the drivers spin around and trying to balance the car has my heart jumping up and down. In Q1 the conditions were safer but during Q2 things got messier and the cars couldn’t make decent lap times. Sadly Daniel didn’t manage to reach Q3, but I was happy my brother would have a good starting position for race day.

“Lando please be careful out there!” I asked Zak if I could tell my brother through the team radio.

“No sweat sis! We’ve got this” he replied in a raspy voice.

“Your brother knows how to handle things in wet conditions. He’s on his A-game” Will, his race engineer said, while Zak agreed with his sayings.

Only 30 seconds remained until the checkered flag came out to put an end to qualifying. Max was currently in P1, starting a new flyer lap, Charles was P2, already having a good first sector and Carlos was P3 also on a flying lap.

“Oh no! Charles Leclerc spun momentarily and as you say quickly cleared away. That is going to cost Charles Leclerc a chance to improve though! So, Carlos Sainz, in that middle sector, has he done enough now?”

Crofty’s voice echoes in my ears, as I see everything happening in front of me

“to get that provisional pole, and hang on to it. We’ve seen it get snatched from his grasp at the last moment so far this season, but there you go, Carlos Sainz, big round of applause from him, he goes over the line and is on provisional pole”

Carlos hadn’t managed to get a pole position ever in his career so far and since he joined Ferrari, his driving skills have improved and wants to show the world his worth and carry the legacy his name has!

“Verstappen’s middle sector not particularly good and he looks a little bit out of shape in the final sector too” Martin Brundle exclaims with an apparent shock in his voice

“So, can Verstappen get that provisional pole back again? No he can’t! Doesn’t improve his time” Crofty screams and I can feel a wave of happiness rushing over me.

Even thought my relationship is broken with Carlos, I want the best for him. We’ve been through so many things together.

“Carlos Sainz, his former teammate to Toro Rosso has that provisional pole!” Oh my oh my!

“Carlos Sainz for the first time in his Formula One career, pole position here”

I lowered my head and felt a grin being shaped on my lips. I was glad. I was proud. He’s been fighting for this and now it’s his time to shine.

“This must have been extremely difficult for all the guys!” Mason says shocked by what he had just witnessed

“You can’t even imagine what they go through when being in the car. Fascinating and very scary too” I put my hand in front of my mouth, trying to process those very exciting news.

I didn’t want Mason to see my smile. I knew it would hurt him. After everything he went through with me, seeing me being happy about another guy, wouldn’t be very pleasant.

“As much of a dick I think he is, I have to admit his driving skills are great. This was impressive. Managing a lap time in conditions like these” Mason said softly, taking off his headset

“Yeah, it is” i nodded my head and removed them too. My brother came back to the garage and we both congratulated him for securing a sixth place

“Uh, I’m sorry for being a buzzkill but, Quinn, Carlos wants to see you. He says he only wants 10 minutes and then won’t bother you again” Lando says.

I can feel Mason’s grip getting tighter around my arm and grabbing me a few inches closer to his body. He was scared. He didn’t want to let me go.

Truth is, I didn’t feel like this would be a very good idea either.

“Uh, I don’t think that-“ I try to say before my brother interrupts me

“Let him explain and apologize and he will be gone for good. I know you won’t attend any other races. You hate being here. This world is not for you. You were always the shy one amongst the two of us. I know you’ll follow Mason afterwards, so give him a chance. Do it for me”

It broke my heart seeing my brother so disappointed. It was true, I wouldn’t be attending more races. Formula One is like the talk of the town. Too much drama, gossiping and heartbreak. It’s the side of it, no one wants to enter but sadly some of us do.

I felt Mason’s lips on my cheek, kissing me and turning me around to look at him.

“Go. I trust you. You know what to do if you need anything. I’ll be there in no time” he said, giving me a promising smile.

I took my umbrella and walked towards Ferrari’s garage. I found Charles on my way there.

“Looking for the poleman?” He asked me cheekily and I nodded my head while laughing

“He’s there with Oñoro. Go, he’s waiting for you” the Monegasque patted my back and saying his goodbye to me.

I made a few steps towards the two cousins, only to have Sainz turn around before I even manage to utter a word.

“Hey Quinn! Where have you been? Long time no see!” Oñoro exclaimed and wrapped his arms around me for a hug. He was a very sweet man and at their time at McLaren, we got really close, always hanging out on the garage with Rupert

“I missed you Carlos number 2! Congratulations on the anniversary too! Very happy for you” I replied and hugged him back!

“I certainly didn’t miss being called Carlos number 2 though” he pretended to be offended but laughed it off

“But thank you for the wishes. I’ll leave you two alone now”

Carlos and I walked towards his motorhome and got in safely. I closed my umbrella and he threw on a jacket, so not to get cold.

“Before we start, I want to say, congratulations Carlos. Even though things are rocky between us, I will always support you no matter the case. Your first pole in Formula One! That must be exciting”

“It is! I can’t even tell you how much. And thank you. It means the world to me that I still have you, even as a supporter through distance” the word distance had such a bitter feeling to it, I felt very bad with myself.

“Carlos, I’m sorry things ended this way. You know what I truly think of you. You know that I’d do anything for you. Even now”

“Don’t say things that you won’t fulfill Quinn. But I appreciate it”

“What do you mean?”

“You say, you’d do anything for me. But if I asked you to leave Mason and be with me, you wouldn’t do it”

Maybe in another lifetime I would. I would have given up everything to be with Carlos. I loved him. I loved him until the very last drop. Until he drained me.

“You know I can’t do it”

“And I know the reason why. This is why I want to apologize. It’s horrible to know that you kept the girl you love away from her family and you’re the reason she’s scared of being near you. I felt awful when you told me and I couldn’t sleep. I still can’t, knowing I’m the reason you hate this world”

“I don’t hate it Carlos”

“I can see it in your eyes. You do hate it. You’re not fit for this crazy world me and your brother live in. And honestly, it’s the best for you. And I would never want to keep you here nor I wanted to hurt you the way I did.”

“You did hurt me. You did break me. It took me almost two years to get over you. I loved you deeply. I still do, but not the way I used to. I love you as a friend and as a person I care about. But my heart belong to Mason now”

“Is he at least making you happy?”

“Very!”

“Then that’s all I care about. Even if I would have loved to be the one who makes you happy, I wish the best for the two of you. I simply desire to only see you smile. And never cry again”

“I’m sorry we can’t be together Carlos. I hope the one comes around sooner than later. You deserve someone special in your life. You’re a wonderful guy”

I open my arms and welcome him for a warm hug.

I could hear his heart racing. He found the peace he wanted. And I’m thankful I gave it to him.

“I hope to see you more often on the paddock. We all miss you”

“We will see Carlos. For now, focus on the race, I’ll be around”