#my gewis

[nearmike]

IT WAS LEWIS WHO TOOK THE PIC OF GEORGE AND THE CHILD?!?!

[lil-shiro]

LIL-SHIRO'S 1K CELEBRATION — ✨ for @helio-castroneves

George (ft. Lewis) x Sympathy is a Knife

[russilton]

ONE TWO ITS UP TO YOU- go on lads’ make it a win at home

[f1-junkie]

🖤✨

Thank you yet again dear Lesi @bejwled for suggesting the idea and sharing a reference picture🌹🌹🌹

[i44rise]

we stay winning this 2024 ★

[russelliv]

ive written a spicy scene for them....should i post a snippet? 👀

[foul-milk]

✨does it ever drive you crazy?...

[nearmike]

Yep, f1 page;; I agree that’s love

Glad to know that you didn't get over it either

[autumn816]

gewis | 6.1k | rated e

The first three times George only watches, sits in the chair across the bed and watches Lewis fuck his girlfriend, Sophia.

[russilton]

GOOD TIMESSSS

[f1-junkie]

(partially reupload)

As promised, lil old gewis art dump

[crescendof1]

gewis vamps🤭😁

for this ask game

to summarize: everything is the same but lewis is a vampire! set in 2022, george's mercedes contract comes with a clause that makes him agree to let lewis feed on him if the need arises. lewis has no idea about this clause but george assumes he does!! so he keeps offering his blood, lewis keeps saying no, so george starts to think there's something wrong with him. of course until lewis caves and drinks from him, but then has a hard time stopping. him and george get close because lewis is drinking from him all the time. everything is all good until lewis finds out about the contract!!! of course he feels like the whole thing was fake now, like george only let lewis drink because he had to. thus begins the angst and george jumping through hoops to make lewis trust him and believe that george really wanted it.

tysm for asking you're the lovliest xoxo

snippet below the cut <3

Lewis ties the make-shift torniquet from George's shoelace tight, just above his elbow. Then he taps the vein there, like this is a medical-grade blood draw. He holds George's arm with both hands, one wrapped all the way around his wrist, the other high up on his bicep, thumb lightly stroking the pale, soft skin of his inner arm. He pulls the arm straight, lifting it up just inches from his mouth. The angle is horribly awkward.

George clears his throat. "Wouldn't my wrist or my neck be, er, more accessible?" He asks. In the months George has spent imagining this moment it's always been less clinical. He wants Lewis's mouth around his jugular, Lewis's hands pushing him against a door for stability, wants it to feel intimate and heady. He'd never pictured it like this--standing in the middle of his driver's room, three feet of space between them.

"This is safer," Lewis replies. Goosebumps pebble along George's forearm at the feeling of Lewis's cold breath on his skin. He doesn't give George any more time to waffle on, his fangs dropping down to just rest on the thin skin above the vein, checking that it's a good spot to pierce. Without warning, his fangs sink in. The pain is sharp and delicious, and George's knees threaten to buckle.

[usersewis]

Lewis and George after the Belgium GP 2024

[foul-milk]

i woke up in a cold sweat where's the damn video?

[nearmike]

Soooo, here we go people ✨ another gewis ✨

We blame the latest news and the famine of fic abt this two

Enjoy and let me know ✨💜🩵

(title comes from the lyrics of a wonderful Italian song: Ancora, ancora, ancora by Mina)

Happy valentine's day, w15 day and eve of pookie bear birthday I guess 🩷

[nicbutnasty]

💛 gewis!!

Hello, thank you! And apologies for how long it took me to write ths one, but we got there in the end.

💛 reunion kiss/relief for George/Lewis | G | ~1K words

note: contains brief description of a fictional crash. George is mostly unharmed

It wasn’t a bad crash, all things considered. But still, Lewis can’t deny that his heart was in his mouth when the message came through on the radio. Car 63 in the barriers, DNF. George. That was over an hour ago now.

He would have been checked over by the medics and debriefed since then—nothing more than a few bruises and feeling a bit shaken up, supposedly—but Lewis needs to see for himself. Being a supportive teammate means offering comfort where he can, but maybe selfishly he needs to prove to himself that George is unharmed, to stop the way his heart kicks in his chest every time he thinks about it.

George would have done his own post-race interviews whilst the rest of them were still on track—Lewis knows how these things work by now—so as soon as he can extract himself from his own media duties, he finds himself standing outside George’s driver’s room. 

The door is slightly ajar, so Lewis knocks once and tentatively pushes it open. George is perched awkwardly there on the black vinyl sofa, as if a stranger in his own room. He looks so much smaller than he did in front of the crowds earlier that day, his lithe frame contorted into a protective curl, all elbows and knees, head in his hands. Something in Lewis’ heart clenches in sympathy at the sight. 

“Hey, George?” Lewis calls softly.

Wordlessly, George looks up, his eyes red-rimmed and watery.

Lewis crosses the room in a few strides, carefully sits next to him on the sofa. Now he’s closer, he can see George is trembling slightly, hear his breath coming out in quiet shudders. He gently wraps an arm around George, hoping for comfort rather than scaring him off.

He shouldn’t have worried, because George immediately leans into it, turning his head so his face is buried in Lewis’ shoulder. His fireproofs are probably all damp and sweaty, but George doesn’t seem to mind, just clings to Lewis like  a lifeline as his shuddering breaths turn to sharp, choking gasps. Lewis clutches him tightly, all the worry he’d pushed down in order to complete the race now bubbling up with the relief of having George here in his arms. 

Lewis rubs calming circles on George’s back, bringing his other hand to the nape of George’s neck to run his fingers through the soft hair there. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs, “It’s okay Georgie, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Slowly George’s breathing begins to even out. Lewis continues to hold him, stroking his back and murmuring soft nothings to him, until George suddenly pulls away with a jolt.

“I’m– I’m sorry,” he stammers out, scrubbing his face with his hands, “You shouldn’t have to–”

Lewis catches his hands and gently pulls them into George’s lap, where they flutter momentarily like a captive bird before stilling. George keeps his eyes lowered, body hunched over, as if ashamed.

“But I want to,” Lewis interrupts softly. He absently brushes his thumbs over the inside of George’s wrists, where the delicate veins show in blues and greens through the skin, a tangible reminder that George is alive and unharmed. Lewis takes a steadying breath. “Oh George,” he sighs fondly, “when I heard, I was so worried. I wanted to make sure you were okay, see if I could help.”

George finally looks up at him with his big wet eyes, lashes clumped together with tears. Lewis thinks he’s never looked so beautiful. “But why?” he asks.

“Because I care about you, man.” George doesn’t look convinced, so Lewis continues, “I do, I swear. Not just because we’re teammates or whatever, but because you’re you. You’re incredible, man, and every day I swear to god I’m thankful I know you. You’re talented, you’re kind-hearted, and you’re beautiful, and I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you in my life, but I–” He feels a lump in his own throat, huffs out a wet sort of laugh, “Well, I’m not questioning it.”

Lewis releases George’s wrists to cradle his face in his hands, thumbing away an errant tear. George’s eyes have gone wide and glassy now, cheeks flushed and mouth parted slightly, as if stunned Lewis could even think about him that way. Well, he can’t have that, can he?

Lewis leans in slightly, hoping he’s not crossing a line. But George, sweet George, always there to meet him where he’s at, follows his lead, his eyelids fluttering shut.

The kiss is tentative at first, George yielding easily. Lewis can taste the salt of shed tears on his lips, licks at the seam of them and George opens easily, malleable under Lewis’ careful attention. He gasps into the kiss as Lewis sucks at his lower lip, one hand coming up to fist in Lewis’ shirt. Lewis likes George like this, he thinks. Open, expressive, not afraid to show what he needs. 

Lewis pulls back slightly and George automatically chases him, swaying towards Lewis, lips parted. His eyes flutter open in momentary confusion and Lewis can feel him tense slightly, as if preparing for rejection.

Whatever he sees in Lewis’ face must reassure him though, as George settles back into his arms. 

“Hello,” Lewis murmurs.

“Hi,” George breathes. His lips are kiss-swollen and he’s flushed pink from cheeks down below the neckline of his shirt. Lewis idly wonders how far that flush extends.

A loud thunk from outside breaks the moment, followed by laughter and good-natured jeers of the pit crew. Beyond the room, the whole paddock is packing up and shipping out for the next race. As lovely as it is right here together on George’s tiny vinyl sofa, they can’t stay. 

Lewis pushes himself up off the sofa with a soft groan, extending a hand to George. “Come on, let’s get you back to the hotel and in your pyjamas.”

George takes his hand but remains sitting for a moment, looking up at Lewis with something akin to hope in his eyes. “Will you– will you stay?” he asks.

Lewis laughs softly. “Yes, of course I will,” he reassures, giving George’s hand a tug for good measure. 

This time, George goes willingly, keeping Lewis’ hand clutched tightly in his, whilst he reaches for his bag with the other. 

There’s the early morning flight back home tomorrow, a couple days to rest, then straight back on the plane to the hustle and bustle of the next race, the next country. But tonight, in the comfort of George’s clean hotel sheets, they’ve got all the time in the world.