#makkinen

[flatoutin-eaurouge]

Mika being congratulated by his dads Ron, Norbert and Jo and by his boyfriend Michael

[backmarkerr]

Mika regretted nothing. But also, if anyone asked, the fact his dart ended up deeply lodged in Irvine’s left buttcheek was a complete freak accident.

[ao3 fic link]

[mrroiroi]

My fav F1 couples' MBTI

• Kimando

• Sebmark/Martian

• Makkinen

• Prosenna

• Launt (lol, golden retrievert and black cat fr)

[thorsonoflesbians]

for the monaco gp next year instead of the regular commentators can we have like ten retired drivers on a yacht with copious amounts of alcohol instead? like imagine jenson feeding nico multiple rounds of tequila shots and convincing him to drop brocedes lore so fucking insane it makes lewis' spidey senses tingle live on air. meanwhile, seb is trying to stop kimi from falling off said yacht every five seconds and mahk webbah is trying to either rope everyone into karaoke or is gushing about his adoptive son oscar. david is calling every driver who fucks their car into a wall a cunt and mika is on facetime with his husband and sipping a mai-tai in the hot tub and a least one of them is puking off the side of the boat in the end

[racingghost]

"Is this my influence?"

[raapija]

😭😭😭❤️❤️

[strulobitch]

Found a Makkinen fic draft written on my phone from my docs, lmk if I should finish it🫣

(cw: implied drug use)

The air was thick and humid, the movement of sweaty, half-dressed bodies dancing to the music in an almost feral manner surrounded Mika as he tried to navigate his way in the club. The loud, pulsating EDM song blaring from the stereos vibrated through his body, merging with his thumping heartbeat, running through his veins like the post-race adrenaline from which he didn't think he had come down yet. He pulled at his shirt collar, droplets of perspiration forming onto his clammy skin, making the fabric of his button up stick to his skin. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the buttons undone nearly all the way to the bottom of the garment, yet the heat was still unbearable. Mika felt like he couldn't breathe. All he could feel was the damp spots of sweat on the pits of the shirt, the uncomfortable rubber of the bottom of his shoe pressing against the soles of his feet, and the button of the too-tight jeans he was wearing pushing against the skin just above his hipline. He needed to get out.

Before he could make his way to the door leading outside, or even the bathroom to catch his breath, someone bumped into him. Mika looked up to see Michael, dressed in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt with no buttons done, sunglasses perched up on his nose and his hair a spiky, sweaty mess, grinning at him. Mika swallowed dryly, rolling his shoulders back. Michael was the last person he wanted to see right now. They had been engaging in a cat-and-mouse game probably ever since they had met each other, and now it seemed like there was no escape from the German. Mika could see the hungry gaze drilling into him even from behind the sunglasses, and while the casual, almost friendly smirk on the other man's lips indicated nothing dangerous, Mika could sense the underlying tension radiating from the man's body. Michael was a man on a mission, and Mika was his target.

"Mika," Michael says, sounding almost overjoyed at the Finn's presence. "Michael," Mika greeted the other man with a curt nod, his shell of professionalism working as a shield on the paddock, but in the dark club it was of no use. Michael saw right through him, and he knew it. "I've been looking for you all over, my friend. Where have you been all night?" Michael continued in a purr, stepping closer. Mika fought internally not to take a step back. "I've been right here," Mika responds, lying, trying to sound casual. "Sure, sure," Michael responds, his grin widening. "You have a little something-..." Michael continues teasingly, motioning at Mika's face. The Finn's hand flew up to wipe the white, powdery residue off his nose with the back of his hand, sniffling and clearing his throat. "Right. Thanks," he mutters. "Anytime," Michael responds with a grin.

The song changes to a slower, more sensual one, though it's beat still reverbarated in Mika's eardrums. Michael grabbed a hold of Mika's hand, dragging him to the dancefloor before the Finn could protest. He spun Mika around, before dipping him down low. Mika's heart jumped to his throat as he was now face to face with his biggest competitor, their noses almost touching. Mika could see the German's eyes through the sunglasses, pupils enlarged and dark. Michael wets his lips with his tongue, before straightening up and pulling Mika along with him. He spun Mika around once more, now pulling him back against his body. Mika could feel the hard planes of Michael's body, and the adrenaline-fastened beat of his heart against his back. Michael's breath was warm and heavy against Mika's neck, the short hairs on the sensitive skin standing up as the German's hands snaked around his waist, pulling Mika's shirt from his waistband and sliding a hand under it. Mika felt the calloused fingertips stroking his abdomen, carding through his happy trail and playing with the waistband of his boxers, slipping a thumb under it. Mika gasped, a shiver running down his spine. Michael chuckled lowly, nosing the sensitive skin behind the Finn's ear. "You wanted to leave, no?" He murmurs, his voice roughened by desire. "Let me walk you out."

The song ended as they retreated from the dancefloor, the upbeat music returning. Michael led him outside, his hand firmly on Mika's lower back, steadily guiding his step. Michael's presence was intoxicating, and almost overwhelming in it's stature. Mika felt like there was something larger than life following him, pressing insistently against his body. And it wasn't even because of Schumacher, the competitor. The winner, the racer. No. It was all Michael. He just had this presence about him, this aura that commands the attention of everyone in the room he walks into. Even Mika, who at this point felt like a dog being walked on a leash, almost powerless against the other man and his silent command. Not that Mika wanted to fight back. As much as he hated to admit it, he was more than happy to follow the German outside and into the cool night.

The air outside was fresh and cold compared to the stuffy air inside the club, making Mika grimace as he crossed his arms over his chest, holding onto his biceps. Michael wrapped his arm around Mika's shoulders, pulling him in. Despite the difference in temperature, Michael was still incredibly warm, and alive. His heart beat steadily in his chest, and Mika could feel it pulsate even though his own clothes.

A taxi pulls up, and Michael urges Mika in. He follows suit, closing the door and handing over some cash to the driver, giving an address to the hotel. The car begins to drive, and as soon as they turn out of the parking lot, Michael reaches out and places his hand on Mika's thigh, squeezing gently. Mika bites his lip gently, subconsciously parting his thighs. Michael grins triumphantly, leaning closer to mouth kisses along the Finn's neck, up and down along the side of it. Mika's eyes start slipping shut, a quiet sigh escaping his lips as Michael starts nibbling on his ear.

The car ride went by in a blur, the driver soon parking the taxi on the street by the hotel. Michael threw some more cash onto the front seat, telling the driver that he ‘saw nothing’, before pushing the door open and pulling Mika along with him. He shut the door and started to walk towards the doors, his hand finding its way back onto Mika’s lower back. The pair enter the lobby, heading to the elevators. The door opens with a ding, and they walk in. “Your room or mine?” Mika dares to ask, feeling a bit breathless, leaning against the wall as the elevator begins its ascent. “Yours,” Michael responds, his hand sliding down into Mika’s back pocket. The Finn nods, and the elevator doors open.

Mika fumbles with the key to his hotel room, almost dropping it as his hands shake from the adrenaline and substance remains running through his veins. And Michael’s hand in his pocket, firmly squeezing the soft flesh under the jeans isn’t helping either. Somehow he manages to nudge the door open, stepping in and almost tripping over the threshold as Michael follows suit, pressing insistently against his back. He kicks the door shut behind them, flicks his sunglasses off and spins Mika around, cupping his face and smashing their lips together. Mika grabs onto his shirt, tugging at it needily as he kisses back, wanting it off. Michael lets his hands down, letting Mika push the garment down, the shirt dropping to the floor. Michael’s hands were back on Mika in an instant, groping and grabbing and stroking all over, before starting to unbutton the shirt he was wearing. He leaned down to mouth kisses against the clammy skin of Mika’s neck, peeling off the shirt and unbuckling his belt. Michael leads Mika to the bed, pushing him down and yanking his jeans off. He climbs over the Finn after kicking his shorts off, and cups Mika’s face in an almost tender manner. They’re both panting, sweaty and flushed from all the partying. Mika feels weightless, intoxicated by the attention he’s receiving. Michael notices, chuckling lowly in his throat. He leans in, kissing Mika’s jaw softly. “So pretty,” he murmurs, and the Finn’s breath hitches. “Michael,” he sighs, wrapping his arms around the German’s back. “Shh…” Michael shushes, pressing a trail of kisses down the column of Mika’s neck, nibbling at the collarbones jutting out from under the skin. “Let me take care of you.”

[raikkoberg]

[eliotheeangelis]

classic f1 + text posts, part 38/?

previous

[limpjerky]

Caught messing around | Mika Häkkinen & Michael Schumacher, 1990

[landoposition]

something about the inherent homoeroticism of vintage f1. something about mika hakkinen gifting michael schumacher a tortoise to celebrate his championship. something about mika writing a letter to michael after his accident. something about ayrton senna saying he missed racing against alain prost and later getting a call from alain saying he missed ayrton too. something about alain carrying ayrton's coffin.

something about both those pairings saying that racing against each other was the best thing to ever happen. something about vintage f1 racing legends and their intricate relationships with each other. something about that.

[flatoutin-eaurouge]

[backmarkerr]

Makkinen + Simi

[versatancore]

i have self-respect so i will NEVER read an unfinished fanfiction on ao3.

[christiangeistdorfer]

MICHAEL SCHUMACHER and MIKA HÄKKINEN at a press conference after the 2000 BELGIAN GRAND PRIX

[racingghost]

Michael Schumacher + Mika Hakkinen (Rockstar style vs librarian style) Drawn for Read My Mind