#rush rpf

[transfemmegeddylee]

I will not make geddy a farter affirm!!!

[formulapookie]

Under the stars

rosquez

they aren't good, not even on speaking terms as of now, not been on fucking terms for a while, but the lingering presence of vale is something heavy to Marc right now.

Of all people it was his side of the garage the one glued to that neon yellow monstrosity of Bezzecchi's garage.

And Vale wasn't fucking shutting up, constantly talking to his rider and telling him how to correct or change a certain something in a certain corner.

He was sick of it, hearing that pointy voice on the other side of the thin wall and not being able to see him.

For how much of a shield or shell he ould build there would have always been a little crack that let Vale through his armour into his chest.

Nestled there like a virus, ready to attack.

He gets up and exits the garage, he needs space, air, quiet.

There's a place where he could go, and even if it is, was, their place it's not like Vale is going to go there.

They didn't even look at eachother earlier in the morning at breakfast.

Or well, Vale didn't look at him, Marc's eyes glued themselves to his curls more than once, always looking away before being spotted.

He breaths in the humid air of the ring, the smell of fuel and the sound of engines managing to calm his mind, untaunted by Vale's voice.

"Where you listening to my tips as well? Could benefit you after the stupid mistake you pulled yesterday in the sprint"

Oh fucking hell. Can't he just have ten minutes to himself?

"I think I manage well for myself Vale, I remind you I have eight Championships, how many does your kid have?"

"No need to insult my rider thank you"

Marc doesn't answer, he doesn't want to, they shouldn't even be talking, let alone discuss.

"You don't talk to me for two years and the first thing you tell me after all this time is an insult, what a way to do things Vale"

"More of a provocation than an insult"

"Oh fuck off Vale what do you want? Me not to fight your precious champion too much next year? To let him win if he wants? To gift him the championship like you think I did with Lorenzo?"

He shouldn't be like this on front of Vale, it's too much skin exposed, too many thoughts said.

He knows Vale compared him to a shark that bites harder if he smells blood, but right now Vale would be much more adequate to the metaphor than him.

"As I already said Pecco doesn't need you in the garage to show he's a Champion, so no, didn't come here to talk to you about him" "Then what do you want? I came here to not hear you talking and you managed to disturb me anyway" "You came here and didn't think that maybe I could come here too?"

Marc's heart skips a beat, a breath gets caught in his throat. Why does it have to happen to him? Why does Vale manage to always sting him when he's not prepared?

"I don't see why you would" "Don't act like an idiot Marc, you know why"

No he fucking doesn't, because Vale has not uttered a word to him for two whole years, they haven't woken up in a random motel together in a year and a half, so he doesn't fucking know why he would.

"No"

Vale scoffs, walking closer to him, now there's roughly a meter between them.

"It's our place no? You called it like this after the first time we came here, you told me we should've had an 'our place' in every track"

Marc didn't think he remembered, words spoken by a lovestruck kid between the sheets of Vale's motorhome, words that still cut too deep even now.

"I agreed that we should've because we couldn't spend too much time in my motorhome and not raise suspicions. And then we went there again for the whole weekend, you sat on that edge and told me you wanted to see the stars, so I shut off the lights on the building and you watched them"

Why is Vale doing this? Why is he talking about that night with that fondness in his voice? Marc doesn't like this, he hates it he - he can't hate it.

He's caught in a trap of lasers and blades and he doesn't know how to get out from the maze that is Valentino's speech.

"I still don't understand why you would come here"

Somehow Marc manages to keep a steady and neutral voice, despite his will is to cry at the memory Vale just revived.

"Because I knew you'd be here" it's the first time tonight, this year actually, that they make proper eye contact, staring into each other's souls for a seconds which seems and eternity.

Marc feels like drowning in the ocean Vale's eyes are, Vale feels like he's wondering in an ancient forest if he looks long enough.

"And I feel like I owe you an apology. Fuck ok more than just an apology, I owe you so much more"

After years. Years. He spent wondering if he would ever hear these words they're finally here.

"I was wrong. About a lot of things, especially those regurding you and your - you saying you were a fan of mine, that I was skeptical whether or not you had posters of me at your house, despite I went there and saw them. I was an asshole. I wanted to hurt you as much as I could and I said the most stupid and hurtful thing I could think of, I knew that if I publicly doubted of you then you would’ve let go”

“You’re apologising?”

Marc doesn’t believe it, can’t believe Vale is actually saying these words to him, in reality, right here right now.

“Yes. And don’t get me wrong, I’m still angry about the 10th, but I was a dickhead about it and a whole other bunch of things”

There’s a tension in the air, uneasiness between them.

It’s not normal to be in this situation, both vulnerable and bare in front of the other.

It’s like they’re saying “my heart is here, if you want to stab it do it now, i’m defenceless”

“Marc I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just needed to say I’m sorry because I’ve been sorry for a long time but I didn’t want to tell you. I was scared to look stupid or weak. I don’t care now, I just had to make sure next year there’s no resentment in the garage”

Marc has tears in his eyes.

He wants to let them all out, wants to curl up in a ball and let himself be consumed by years of torment and suffering.

“I was a kid Vale. I - fucking he’ll I was Celestino’s age. What would you do to someone if they did what you did to me to Celestino?”

“Probably I’d punch them. Probably I’d keep them as far as possible from him and tell him to never interact with them again. I am not an idiot Marc I know I have no right to expect you to forgive me. But I just ask for no resentment”

“I forgave you already. I forgave you the week after you said those things about me. A week after you called me a liar I had already forgiven you. I just wanted to hear these words back then”

Vale is honestly dumbfounded. Because yeah he knew Marc didn’t hold the type of grudge he held for him but.

Forgiving him after a week? That was just insane.

“You have really zero self preservation sense eh? That’s why you race like that still”

“I forgave you because I was in love with you Vale. I hoped that if I just loved you enough, that’d be good for the two of us, I thought I could love enough for both. Thought I could get over you going me those nasty looks and just calling me when you wanted to fuck. Because I had enough love for two”

And Vale didn’t think he could feel more shitty than he did when he had that mental trip months ago when he realised how actually cruel he had been, and how he had to apologise.

He hadn’t told Uccio, obviously.

Or Pecco. Or Luca. Or any of the people he knew.

“I thought you felt - ok not the same as me but I thought you hated me at least a little bit. I am sorry. Really. I know I should’ve apologised long ago, that this I’m doing now it’s basically useless but you had to hear it from me”

And now tears just can’t be held by Marc anymore.

He’s not crying desperately but tears stream down his face, quietly, like a mountain river.

“I know I should tell you to fuck off and go back to you garage and tell you I don’t give a fuck about your apologies”

Now Marc is breathing normally again, eyes locked with Vale’s, there’s not a layer of lies in it.

“But I just can’t. I want to be honest with you, I was - still am - hurt by what you said. But I am so fucking stupid and still love you so much and I forgive you”

Vale wants to cry too now, Marc hasn’t changed a bit. He’s still that lovestruck kid he fell in love with ten years ago. And it sickens him, because he can see who he hurt.

“Can” Marc’s voice gets interrupted by a sob, light now completely down at the track, just the moon making its appearance.

“Can we watch the stars Vale? I miss them”

“Si. Ill go turn the lights off, you stay here and we watch the stars ok?”

Marc nods, he’s scared, of course he’s scared.

He’s scared Vale will run away again, that he would leave him alone up there, that he will make fun of his helpless reaction with his friends.

But Vale takes 5 seconds to shut off the buildings lights, leaving just the many stars to light up in Marc’s eyes.

“Im sorry. I will go away if you want. When you want”

“No Vale no please. Please don’t go. Not again I don’t want you to go away again. Watch the stars with me”

And Vale does just that, sat beside Marc, heads touching, thousands of words still to say, millions of apologies still to be done.

But now, in this fragment, it’s just them.

Them and the stars.

[scrollonso]

Sharing

A Strollonso AU where the daughter of a Canadian billionare and her friend are hired by Renault to bring attention to the teams 2nd driver. What'll happen when the girls gain the attention of more than just the media? (4k words, whore fernando, emotional lance) [@roostersrocket] {this was supposed to be a oneshot but... pt2 soon}

Lance sat in the back of the car her father sent, Esteban digging through her bag to find her concealer as their chauffeur drove at a steady pace.

"Putain, where is it?" Esteban muttered, running a hand through her hair as the other dug through the sky blue bag on the floor of the backseat

"What's wrong, Estie?" Lance asked, glancing at her friend as she curled her eyelashes

"Do you have concealer? I think I left mine at the hotel"

"Yeah" She hummed, Lance handing the girl her own makeup bag "It should be your colour"

"Thank you, Lance, I'd be dead without you" Esteban said, taking out what she needed before putting the bag back next to Lance's pale thigh

After what felt like ages they arrived at the Imola Circuit, Lance stepping out to fix her clothes, knowing the odd material was messed up after the long car ride.

She had on a white tube top with the teams logo plastered right over her tits, a halter-top like jacket on over it. She propped one leg up on the side of the car as she unrolled her shorts, tucking the back of them back under the belt with a Renault branded buckle on it

"Lance, does my ass look okay?" Esteban called from the other side of the car, the Canadian looking up from her legs to see Esteban turned around at the other side of the vehicle, the yellow "2" on the left pocket of her shorts making it impossible to notice if her ass looked bad.

"Your ass always looks great" Lance confirmed, putting her leg down and closing the car door as she stepped forward to thank the driver before her and Esteban made their way onto the paddock.

They quickly found their way to the Renault garage, not able to ignore the cameras on them as soon as they got there, the duo only worried about how their faces would look in these pictures

"What if I have a double chin?" Lance asked, hand smoothing the skin under her jaw as she spoke

"Lance, the only double you have are double D's, calm down" Esteban scoffed, smiling at her comment

"Stop, I can't kiss you in front of all these people" Lance smiled back, nudging the girls shoulder as they made their way to the Italian side of the garage.

The two mainly sat around, speaking politely to all the slightly offputting men that would walk up and hit on them, the friends having no interest in anything besides the expierence from the job so far.

They'd probably spoken to half the engineers working for Renault before a driver approached them, realizing who it was as soon as he spoke

"You two must be Esteban and Lance, It is a pleasure to have you both here" Giancarlo spoke, extending a hand to Lance then moving to shake Estebans next

"Thank you, We absolutely love it so far." Lance smiled politely, legs crossing as she gazed up at the Italian

"There won't be much going on today but it will get more exciting as the week progresses, I look forward to having you two cheering me on" He smiled back, nodding at the girls before returning to his engineers side, back to work

"God, he's hot" Esteban gushed instantly, whispering in the Canadians ear

"Shut up" Lance laughed, hitting the girls shoulder as she shook her head, disapproving of the comment

"Oh, come on!" Esteban whined "Tell me he isn't. You like older guys, he's like 15 years older than you."

"And so not my type."

"You're such a liar, but fine, more for me then" Esteban hummed, rolling her eyes at the younger girl

Lance and Esteban began to wander around the paddock once the Renault drivers started speaking to the media, being told that it would cause more people to begin speaking about the driver with the number 6 plastered on his car

"My legs hurt" Lance complained, wrapping her arms around the taller girl's waist, pulling her closer as she stumbled on her heels

"Merde" She cursed under her breath, having been startled by the sudden weight on her "Take off your heels then, it'll probably look better if we're shorter than Giancarlo anyway"

Lance nodded, looking at the concrete her heels were resting on before unclasping them and sliding her feet out, glad the pavement wasnt overheated by the sun yet

"God, I should've worn flats" She mumbled, balancing on one foot as she rubbed the sole of her foot

"Stop complaining, it's only been two hours" Esteban laughed at the now shorter girl, picking up her shoes and pulling her along, not noticing the Spaniard who's eyes were stuck on the Canadian with long, bleched blonde hair.

Fernando stopped in his tracks as he saw the two girls not far ahead of him, they were facing away but as the blonde girl spoke her head turned just enough for the World Champion to catch a glimpse of her face, he felt like he'd been punched in the gut he was so in awe with her.

The way her lip jutted out slightly as she complained to the older girl in front of her, the way her clothes fit her perfectly no matter how she positioned her slim yet curvaceous body, the way her hair curled at the ends as it draped over her bare shoulders, everything about her had Fernando completely beguiled.

As Giancarlo finished with his interviews the girls were quick to rush to his side, striking up a conversation while still close enough to the journalists for them to notice the closeness between the trio

"Hello, girls, figured you had returned home already" The older man commented, arms snaking around the young girls' waists as they walked back to the yellow and blue garage

"We couldn't leave without getting to know you more" Esteban hummed, having to look down slightly in order to meet the mans eyes

"Only if I can get to know you as well" He responded, accent thick as he winked at the French woman, Lance rolling her eyes as she third wheeled

As the trio walked into the Italian side of the garage, Lance couldn't help but notice the eyes from the Spanish side. She looked up for a second, lips curving up as she saw the older man look away quickly as if he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to

"So, what is it you ladies want to learn?" Giancarlo spoke, taking a seat at a small table in the corner as Esteban did the same, Lance just wandering the one side, now curious of the other.

"What are you willing to show me?" Esteban hummed, cocking her head to the side as she gazed at the Italian, completely oblivious to her friend slipping away, putting her shoes back on as she walked.

Lance peeked over to Fernandos side, noticing it was significantly emptier than Giancarlos, hesitating to actually step foot on the other side.

She almost fell over when she heard a voice close to her, grabbing tightly on to the closest thing to her for stability

"Woah" A thick accent spoke, hands grabbing harshly onto her waist "Are you okay?"

Her eyes widened, a startled look on her face as she gazed down at the Spaniard, realizing she'd tripped and fell into the arms of Giancarlos teammate

"Yeah, I'm sorry" She laughed, stepping back and fixing her top, unable to forget how his fingers lingered on her skin as she pulled back

"Don't be sorry, princesa." He responded, a part of him liking having to look up to see the girl "You're welcome on the better side of the garage any time"

"Are you trying to hit on me, Alonso?" Lance smiled, cocking her head to the side as she saw the Spaniards face flush

"Quiza, is it working?" The Spaniard laughed quietly, leaning against the wall beside him as he gazed at the Canadian, hoping he wasn't making the girl uncomfortable

"You'll have to try a little harder, Alonso" She shook her head, looking away from the Spaniard to scan his side of the garage

"Fernando"

"Hm?" She hummed, eyes falling back on the man in blue

"Call me Fernando. Alonso's too formal, no?"

"Okay, Fernando" She nodded, unable to stop herself from smiling "I'm Lance. It's nice to meet you"

"The pleasure is all mine"

Lance spent the rest of the evening on the Spaniards side, he was funny. She was glad to get along with someone besides the man Esteban was clearly into.

"You have to choose one card, now" He smiled, holding a deck of Spanish cards in his hands, fingers decorated with silver rings.

"Okay" She laughed, eyebrows raising as he quickly flipped through the deck

"Oiii, you are too slow" He teased, shrugging as his eyes stayed glued to the woman

"Oh, come on!" Lance groaned, hitting his arm lightly "Go again, slower."

"Yes ma'am" He nodded, flipping through the deck again as he waited for Lance to tell him to stop

"There" She said, and he stopped, moving the deck so she would see her card.

"You know it?"

"Yeah" Lance smiled, leaning forward on the table as she watched the older man link the cards together, showing that he wasn't taking anything out

"Okay, we have the cards," He hummed, laying the deck down now that it was stuck together "You know which one you choose?"

"Mhm"

"Then, we take this off." Fernando glanced at the girl before unlinking the chain and grabbing the cards, setting them in seperate pile one by one "When you see your card you tell me stop."

He got through half the deck and Lance had yet to say anything so he spoke again

"You have to tell me stop, if you no tell me stop-" He said, almost scolding the girl

"I will! I haven't seen it yet" She defended, jutting out her bottom lip as she moved her head closer to the cards

"We cannot play if you no tell me stop."

"I think it might've disappeared! Where's it gone?" Lance questioned, laughing as he reached the end of the deck

"I dunno! You were in charge." He shook his head, lifting up the unlinked chain to show the girl

"Where have you put it?" Her eyebrows furrowed, smiling slightly as she glanced at Fernando, smile widening as he began to laugh.

"I dunno!" He spoke through laughs, beginning to pat himself down

"I don't trust you" Lance's eyes narrowed, taking over and patting the Spaniard down, from his neck to his waist trying to figure out where the small piece of paper had went

They were close, Fernando could feel the girls breath on him, he'd never admit it but it made him quite nervous. She looked even prettier up close.

"C'mon, Fer!" She whined, hitting his chest "Tell me your secrets

"Look in my hat, princesa." Fernando looked up, eyeing the blue material on his head.

She was quick to take it off, shocked to see her card laying in his hat

"How did you-"

"Ah, ah, ah." He shook his finger, "Is a secret."

"Lance" Esteban called from Giancarlos side of the garage, the Canadian girl getting up fron her seat straight away

"Lancito" Fernando said, reaching out and grabbing the girls arm, worried she'd walk away if he didn't "Can I have your number?"

"Of course, Fer" She nodded, quickly typing her number into the mans phone before disappearing back to the side she was supposed to be on.

As soon as they got in the car Lance started gushing about the man she'd spoke to, overanalyzing everything that'd happened.

"No, you don't understand. He called me princess. TWICE. And admitted that he was flirting with me." She tried to explain, Esteban sitting with a skeptical look on her face

"He's a world champion, you're gonna get played." Esteban tried to explain, Giancarlo having briefly mentioned his teammates and how bad he treated the girls he brought around.

"I don't care, he's sexy." Lance whined, grabbing her friends shoulders and shaking her "I can fix him!"

Lance put on the same outfit as yesterday but with a skirt instead, not wanting to look the exact same.

The Spanish man had yet to text her and it made her heart ache for whatever reason, she craved his attention.

As Lance and Esteban reached the paddock they were greeted by the Renault boys straight away. Giancarlo coming to wrap his arms around the girls as Fernando walked with another woman by his side, the polar opposite of Lance.

She had dark brown hair, green eyes, tan skin, she was in flats and jeans and a simple tank top. Is that what Fernando likes? Lance could be that.

He made sure not to stare, instead getting closer to the Italian man at her side as Esteban struck up a conversation, she always knew what to say.

They'd just gotten done with qualifying, Giancarlo p11 and Fernando p5 but the two girls still managed to congratulate the older of the two as if he'd gotten pole.

Lance didn't spare Fernando a glance, no matter how much she wanted to, she wasn't easy.

"You did good out there!" Esteban praised, body pressed against Giancarlo as his hand rested on Lance's hip

"I'm starting to think you girls don't understand how this sport works" He laughed, thumb brushing over the exposed skin on the Canadian's side

"Well, You're right." Lance laughed, trying to pretend she wanted the mans touch how she wanted his teammates "But, at least you aren't last!"

Lance decided she'd head to the car first, not interested in how her friend was eyefucking the man they worked for. She slipped her phone into her pocket, ignoring how it buzzed. She just wanted to take off her makeup and fall asleep in the back seat

"Lancito" A familiar voice called. Great. She'd ignored him all day and now he wanted to talk?

She turned back, unsurprisingly losing every ounce of anger in her body as she saw the look on his face

"My side of the garage missed you today." He hummed, stopping once they were just centimeters apart. The look on his face was different than it had been the day before, no longer soft and playful. He looked bothered.

"Oh, really? Didn't think you'd notice my absence."

"How could I not?" He laughed, hand finding its way to her hip, the same spot Giancarlo had touched earlier. "Hard to not notice someone like you."

"Mm" She just hummed, licking her lips as she looked at Fernando, unable to stop her gaze from falling on the mans own lips.

Without saying a word he pulled her closer, lips connecting roughly, grip on her hip tightening as he pressed their bodies together.

A shakey breath left Lance's lips, her fingers tangling themselves in the shorter mans hair as she kept him close. If he was the last man she was to ever kiss, she wouldn't complain.

His leg came up slightly, pressing against her core as he pressed her back to the wall behind them. Lance was never the doing-stuff-in-public type but if it was from Fernando she'd take whatever she could get.

Her mind clouded as she began to thoughtlessly rut against the mans leg, feeling the smirk forming on his face as her skirt hiked up. She should be embarrassed, really, she met this man, who is almost a decade older than her, yesterday and now she was whimpering into his mouth in a hidden area of the paddock. Maybe she was easy but she's also just a teenage girl, teenage girls have needs too and if this is how she'll meet them she doesn't see anything wrong with that.

Not long after they started it stopped, Fernando hearing his teammate calling his name. He pulled away from the girl, not bothering to even spare her a glance before he disappeared again. Leaving her feeling hot, heavy, and alone.

Lance thought about Fernando all night, thought about the kiss, his touch, the girl from earlier.

She hardly spoke on the ride back to the hotel, Esteban brushing it off as her being tired but even the next morning she was quiet

"What happened, Lance?" She finally asked, sick of her friends silence, it was race day they should be excited.

"He kissed me" Lance muttered, looking over to Esteban as they were both getting dressed

"Who?"

"Fernando"

"FERNANDO ALONSO KISSED YOU AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?" She said loudly, dropping her shirt and going over to Lance, forcing her to sit down "Now you have to tell me everything"

"Well, I left early"

"I remember" She nodded, eyes glued to Lance

"He followed me, called me Lancito and said his side of the garage missed me. He literally had a girl by him all day hes such a fucking prick." She complained, covering her face with her hands

"But then you kissed?"

"He just got so close to me and I looked at his lips and suddenly he kissed me and pushed me against a wall and did that thing guys do with their knee-"

"OH?" Estebans eyes widened, standing up from Lance's bed "Lance, he wants you so bad."

"Yeah, wants my body so bad."

"Oh, come on. I gave Giancarlo a blowjob yesterday, that's all it is. That's all they want." Esteban shrugged, she'd never cared about the romantic part of things, always just what she could gain from the rich men she encountered. Lance had prayed to wake up like her, not caring, it never worked.

She tried harder today, trying to make herself look like the girl from yesterday. She wore low rise jeans with a soft design on the pockets, lighter makeup, and then a cropped renault shirt with Giancarlos name stitched on the back.

She didn't want to be just a body to the Spaniard, she wanted to be so much more. She wasn't just a body. She was a girl. A woman. She was so full of love and so desperate to recieve the same love she gave and she wanted that from Fernando. For whatever reason.

Lance got out of the car, walking and talking with Esteban as they made their way to the garage, now used to the sounds of clicking cameras and the flash of their pictures being taken.

Esteban was greeted by Giancarlo first, Lance's eyes meeting Fernandos as he walked next to a different girl. Tall, slim, blue eyes, ginger. What did he want. Why did none of his girls look the same. Why were none of them her.

Lance was in a funk practically the whole day, following Esteban around like a lost dog while Fernando and Giancarlo raced.

"I can't believe him." Esteban said randomly, Lance looking at her confused. "He kissed you yesterday and now he's with another girl?"

"I guess world champions just do that" Lance shrugged, trying not to think about it even though Fernando was all the commentators were talking about.

"Not all world champions, he's just a whore."

"I could fix him" She added, laughing it off as a joke but really, she hoped she could.

Giancarlo finished 8th, getting a point for the team. Fernando got 2nd so by the time the second driver returned most of them were at the podium waiting for Fernando to celebrate.

"You did good, Carlo" Esteban hummed, sitting on a counter on the wall of the garage as the Italian took off his helmet and balaclava

"Yeah, you're great." Lance added, nodding as she wished to be celebrating with Fernando.

The podium celebration came to an end, the Spaniard coming back to the garage and going straight to Lance, whispering in her ear before disappearing to shower.

Come to my hotel with me.

Who does he think he is?

Does he think he can just have any girl he wants?

What a dick.

Lance was definitely going.

She told Esteban she'd be staying behind to get to know people and her friend didn't prod, just smiling and nodding before taking herself back to their hotel while her friend snuck off to a drivers.

She found herself in the passenger seat of Fernandos car, his hand tracing shapes on the denim covering her thigh as he drove. She was nervous, not because she knew she wasn't the only girl he'd planned on fucking recently but because she hadn't fucked anyone recently.

The last time she'd gotten any action was with Max Verstappen before an f2 race in a cramped drivers roon where he kept her mouth covered the whole time. He wasn't good.

Surprisingly, her door was opened for her. Fernando holding his hand out to lead the girl in the lobby, into the elevator, and to his room.

He waited for the door to be closed before he kissed Lance again, picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist with ease.

He moved towards the bed as if he didn't have over 100 pounds of extra wait on him, as if Lance was light as a feather.

It made her smile, hands on either side of Fernandos face as she deepened their kiss, bottom lip jutting out in disappointment once he pulled back, laughing under his breath.

"Come on, have to take these off" He spoke quietly, kneeling on the ground in front of Lance who was sprawled out on the bed, taking off the heels she'd been wearing all day.

Lance sat up, watching as Fernando unbuckled one and slid it off, placing it next to him before doing the same to the other. She was eager for him to get up but he stayed put, peppering her ankles and calves with kisses as he slowly made his way back up, Lance giggling at the feeling of his stubble against her skin.

Eventually, Fernandos lips were back on Lance's, one hand on the nape of her neck while the other worked at undoing her belt, eager to have her fully exposed under him.

One thing Fernando did differently off track was he took his time. Lance hated it. She needed him.

She decided she'd have to do it herself if she wanted anything to happen before she stopped feeling it.

Lance pulled away from him, quick to take off her own belt and pants until all she had was the shirt with Giancarlo's number and name all over it.

"I do not like sharing, Lancito" He muttered, finger brushing over the embroidered "2" on her chest

"I'm all yours." She responded, even though she knew he wasn't all hers.

Fernando scoffed, not believing just how easy the girl was. He undid the first few buttons before sliding off her shirt, adoring the sight of her in nothing but her underwear. A matching black set. As if she knew what was going to happen.

"Qué guapa eres" How pretty. Lance wasn't fluent in Spanish but she'd been hit on by enough Spanish men to know what he was saying.

It was embarrassing, how flustered she got from the most basic compliment.

She could barely remember what happened after that, waking up sore and with dried cum practically covering her skin. Disgusting. Seems like no aftercare had taken place. She wasn't surprised.

Even if she didn't expect aftercare she expected to at least wake up with him still in the room. Obviously, her expectations were too high because she woke up alone. All he left her was a text. Three fucking letters.

"gtg"

Dick.

[claraxbarton]

Guess what?

Finally posted chapter 16 of Gold Rush

Read it here

[graveltrapping]

Debutant | doe eyes

Female Marc Marquez snippet

Next

The first thing Dani Pedrosa thought after meeting Mar Marquez was that she looked rather fawn like.

Dainty and small (though still taller than himself), the tiniest dappling of freckles across delicate cheekbones, all pulled together by a pair of big glassy black eyes and even darker lashes. Long and curling, they brushed her cheeks with each blink. The team kit Honda had given her was ill fitted and seemed to swallow her whole, arms and shoulders gaping around her, while the soft high collar of the fleeces she seemed to love cradled her smiling face. She looked soft. Wide eyed, curios, but bafflingly confident in a slightly disarming way that had Dani a little off balance.

Jorge could see the resemblance.

He could see the softness that she still carried, baby fat still making her cheeks rounded and plush. Pillowy lips and fluffy hair curling around ears that stuck out in an almost childish way she didn’t seem to grow out of. Her helmet hair, spilling out of the short little braids in crazy tight ringlets that stood in every direction, seemed to shave even more years off of her already young age. Those big doe eyes.

Dani had left the comparison slip once, the words tumbling past his lips after a few too many drinks as he recounted their first test rides on the bike, but Jorge couldn’t help but think she was really more like a wolf. Maybe it was her smile, all perfect and sharp teeth, so many exposed as she laughed loudly and showed off those disarming dimples, maybe it was how dark her eyes were, such a rich brown it would be easier to call them black. Maybe it was how all she seemed to do was hunt. On track, off track, those dark eyes following and watching and learning. 

So pretty but intense and unnerving in a way that had Jorge feeling almost small.

Eclipsed, maybe.

Valentino, it was hard to imagine what he thought of Mar.

Rossi seemed to think something similar to him but there was a disarming softness to the looks he gave the young woman that made Jorge think that just maybe he was fooled by the baby deer look she had to her, fooled like many others through the feeder series. The older man, a nine times champion, had clocked something in the rookie that was almost parallel to himself. It drew him in a little, maybe blinded him for a second, but Qatar had certainly been an awakening. Sudden, aggressive, unyielding, she had passed Valentino Rossi again and again and again. He had responded in kind but had just barely held on to second place by the skin of his teeth. She had been right behind him, barely meters between their bikes as she sped up the start finish straight hunched down in the seat, fighting to the last millisecond. 

So small, leathers deigned to blend with the bike, it had been hard to tell where she ended and machine began.

She was off like a shot though as soon as they were in parc ferme, a blur of white and orange, unmissable in the see of Yamahas royal blue. Even as he celebrated his own win standing tall on the bike, he could see her pressed against the barriers and held up by her team just enough her feet dangled a few inches off of the ground. Yamaha staff mingled with the Honda, all wanting to congratulate the bombshell rookie, and he could even see Uccio land a few solid slaps on her back. He had lost sight of her after that. Descended into the throws of his team to celebrate his first win of the season, Valentinos team mingling and melding with his own to make an even bigger crowd while photographers and reports swelled closer like a wave ready to brake on the barriers.

He doesn’t see her again until Rossi is on her, dragging her in for a congratulatory hug and slap on the back that have her glasses tumbling off and her smile widening even further, all dimples and sharp teeth. First race in the premier class and she had almost beat the most successful rider on track. She looked proud of herself, electrified, but somehow not at all surprised. Like she thought she could beat him. She probably could.

Jorge watched out of the corner of his eye for a second, half focused on the interview in front of him, as Valentino slapped his hand against the rookies shoulder and said something that made her laugh loudly, hands fluttering around fixing her sunglasses in a way that betrayed her nerves. Her head bobbed, short black curls spilling out from under her red cap, before she was cut from sight by a man ushering her towards the podium stairs. Rossi gravitated towards his section of the barriers a second later and clapped him on the back with a much more casual smile.

“She’s good” Was the first thing Jorge said to him.

“She’s was coming to take me, no?” Valentino laughed.

He barley had time to nod before the same man was ushering both him and his teammate towards the cooldown room that was long and narrow, walls all beige and bare making all three riders look like obnoxious walking pain blotches that were completely unmissable. They were impossible to miss anyway, room packed tight with riders and presenters and media staff hauling cameras and microphones looming just outside blocking the way out and boxing them in. Elbows clashed, everyone packed tight, and Jorge watched as Valentino squeezed past Mar to grab his bottle. His hand slid just over her ribs as he manoeuvred her just a tiny bit to the side, the young spaniard easy under his hands, before slipping back into place near the door and saying something to her that her laughing one again. Even with the Italian half leant on the table she had to look up at him, head tilted back, laughing all open mouthed and dimpled. she looked deceptively soft. 

The comparison Dani made came back to mind.

Valentinos thoughts hadn’t seemed to change though, still looking at her like he knew her, like he recognised something in her that could be great in the future, like maybe this was a fluke or rookie luck to get so close so fast. Jorge however could see it. That impatience that was already winding its way into her bones, searing into her skin. Standing there beside the champion, she looked more like the race winner with how she held herself. She had gotten close. So close. She wasn’t going to wait for anything, certainly wasn’t going to be refined or helped along, no, she’d prefer to just take it. She’d take Valentino next time round. She looked like she wanted too. Always there, so incredibly ready to just throw herself into corner after corner, melding herself to the machine on the straights. Even after they crossed the line, her stare had been dissecting. Always flickering back to Valentino the moment he looked away from her.

Jorge could feel that stare on him now.

Stood on the top stop, it was almost burning, but he pushed it to the side. She wanted exactly what he had and he knew it. After all, she was two down and he was up top, first win of the season and taken by a considerable margin. She should probably try to be content that she was even on the podium on her debut race, her driving wild enough to take both herself and Rossi out if not careful, the track punishing and cruel on tires and riders. Who was he to really care though. His title fight had the perfect start.

No Champagne today, but the victory still tasted so sweet.

[best-fictional-band-poll]

The top FOUR bands from this poll will go through! Good luck!

[phos-phorus]

Launt ficlet time!

Full version of the extract I uploaded a few days ago!

Hope you like it

The sun hung high over the Silverstone Circuit, casting a relentless glare over the bustling paddock. Reporters swarmed like bees around Niki Lauda, who stood, as always, in his immaculate Ferrari racing suit, patiently answering questions. Among the throng was James Hunt, known as much for his off-track antics as his on-track prowess.

With a wicked grin, James maneuvered through the crowd until he was right next to Niki. The Austrian glanced at him briefly but continued his measured response about race strategy. Without warning, James grabbed Niki by the shoulders and pulled him into a kiss.

The world seemed to freeze. Cameras flashed furiously, reporters gasped, and Niki's eyes widened in shock and confusion. As they broke apart, the paddock erupted into chaos.

Niki shoved James away, his face a mix of shock and fury. “What the hell, James?” he spat out, his voice trembling with anger.

James leaned in closer again, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper that was still loud enough for the microphones to catch. “Just wanted to see if those rumors about our little rat were true.”

The reporters, sensing blood in the water, pounced. Questions flew at Niki from all directions, each more invasive than the last. “What was that kiss about?” “Are you and James together?” “Do the teams approve of this kind of relationship?”

James, still grinning, raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just having a bit of fun, lads,” he said, backing away. “Looks like I got my answer.” With that James turned and left the scene, the smirk never leaving his face.

The reporters didn’t relent. “Niki, care to comment? Is there something you’d like to share about your sexuality?”

Niki’s patience snapped. “No comment,” he barked, forcing his way through the crowd. His mind was a whirlwind of anger and humiliation. He knew he couldn’t let this slide.

He found James leaning against a wall near the paddock, still chuckling to himself. Niki’s approach was swift and purposeful. “What the hell was that, James?” he demanded.

James’ smile faded slightly, but he remained defiant. “Oh, come on, Niki it was just a joke. You never seem to have any fun. I thought I’d help you out.”

Niki’s fists clenched. “Fun?” His voice was a dangerous growl. "You call this fun? You think it’s funny to humiliate me? To expose my private life in front of the world?”

James’ eyes glinted with a challenge. “So, it’s true then? You like guys, don’t you? Is that why you never want to go out and pick up ladies with me?” He said with a mocking laugh.

The insinuation cut deep. Niki stepped closer, their faces inches apart. “You don’t know anything about me,” he growled.

James pressed on, his voice low and mocking “Admit it, Niki. You enjoyed it. Why else would you be so angry?” He looked down at Niki as realisation struck him “is that why Marlene broke up with you?” He asked with a chuckle

Niki’s control finally shattered. “Halt dein verdammtes Maul, du Arschloch! You think you know everything, don’t you?” His breath came in ragged gasps “You don’t get to ask me that. You don’t get to use my past against me for your amusement.” he shouted with tears prickling at his eyes.

James’ grin faltered, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. “I didn’t think it would bother you this much. I didn’t mean to—”

Niki cut him off, shoving him against the wall. “You never think, do you, James? You never think beyond your own amusement. You just act, and damn the consequences.”

For a moment, they stood there, breathless and glaring at each other. Then, something shifted in James’s expression. He stepped closer, brows drawn together in a frown “I didn’t think it bother you that much. I just wanted to have a little fun and get a laugh out of it.”

“Well, congratulations. You succeeded,” Niki said bitterly, his jaw clenching as he stared at the Brit. “If you can’t win you just go and ruin your opponent’s career with something else, huh?”

James’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Niki. Really. This wasn’t my intention! Why would I want to ruin-”

“Just shut up. You don’t understand. You have no idea what you’ve done.” Niki interrupted, his voice breaking.

The Brit took a step closer, confusion evident in his eyes. “Why is it such a big deal to you, Niki? What am I missing?”

“Just leave me alone, James.” Niki muttered as he turned to leave, but James grabbed his arm, desperation in his grip. “Please, Niki. Tell me what I’m missing. What’s going on?”

Niki stopped, his shoulders tense. He turned back to James, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to live like this? To hide who I am because I’m afraid of what people will think, of what it will do to my career? it’s not just a joke. It’s my life. It’s who I am. And you had no right to expose that.”

James blinked, confused. “Hide who you are? Niki, I didn’t know—” He cut himself off, realization dawning. “I didn’t know you were really… I thought it was just some stupid joke. I mean, if I had known it was really true I—”

“If you had known you what?” Niki asked, his voice tight. “You wouldn’t have done it?”

“No!“ James said without hesitation

Niki’s anger seemed to deflate, replaced by a sudden deep and aching sadness. “So you wouldn’t have kissed me if you knew” he muttered, more to himself than to James.

James buried a hand in his hair with frustration “Niki, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, yes, I wouldn’t have done it if I knew it would upset you like this. I wanted to kiss you so badly but now I’ve only made things worse. I’m sorry, Niki. I just—”

Niki cut him off again. “Wouldn’t you? Or would you?” Hoping that he heard right and that James wanted to kiss him so badly. “Would you kiss me again?”

James stared at him, taken aback. “What? Niki, I—”

“Do it again” Niki blurted out, his voice trembling. “If you really mean what you say then do it again.”

James opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out, instead he just stared at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he stepped closer, gently cupping Niki’s face.

Niki closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “But this time, mean it. Not for the cameras, not for a joke. Just… for me. Please.” he whispered before worrying his lip between his teeth.

James took a deep breath. Hesitating for a moment before gently dragging his thumb over Niki’s lower lip - a fleeting touch to stop him from chewing on it.

Slowly he leaned in and kissed Niki again, slow, deliberate, and full of unspoken promises, this time not for the cameras or the reporters, but for Niki.

It wasn’t a joke this time. It was real.

When they broke apart, Niki’s eyes were once more filled with tears “Thank you” he whispered, his voice breaking.

James pulled him into a tight embrace, his own eyes glistening. “I’m sorry, Niki. I truly am. I’ll never make light of this again.”

Niki nodded “you better not. Arschloch.” He muttered, burying his face in James’ shoulder. For the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of peace. And perhaps, just perhaps, a glimmer of hope for what lay ahead.

[hoohoobeanie]

gold rush is here!

synopsis:

5 times tommy has to watch spencer flirt with someone else and 1 time he doesn't

[fandomfluffandfuck]

I was thinking about big sub Steve in pretty clothes, and then my mind was like...

What about Chris?

Everyone deserves some pretty clothes (if they want them), but... would he ever dabble? Would he want to try it?

Needless to say, Chris wouldn't think that it's gross, nor would he be weary of pretty, "feminine" clothes because that's not how he is. No toxic masculinity here. Besides, he fucking gets off on it hard when it's Sebastian dressed up in softer, prettier lingerie or more delicate velvet suits or pink, draping clothes or anything. So, he's got no room to think anything like that. The thought of it being immasculating doesn't cross his mind at this point in his life. He's very secure.

But more than the thoughts above, what I was thinking was, would Chris get anything out of it? 👀 Other than Sebastian enjoying the sight of him dolled up and displayed, would Chris like it?

I don't think Chris would be as eager as Sebastian was to indulge in pretty clothes, nor would he enjoy it as much as Seb does (or as much as big sub Steve does for that matter), but I don't think he wouldn't like it either 😏

So, Chris doesn't say no, he's not opposed, and he figures he might at least try it once. Fuck it, right? Then--

I just Thought:

The idea of Chris slipping into something softer and prettier absolutely comes from Sebastian. Seb jokingly suggests that some time, maybe Chris should try wearing panties like Seb does.

The comment is conceived by Seb sinking into his bratty side, feeling bold and playful and challenging just for the sake of challenging. He huffs to hide his grin as he draaags out the words that he puts all this effort into finding new panties after Chris ruins them after just one use--ripping them or making Seb cum in them, staining them, or whatever other debauched, unspeakable act they get up to--and he preps himself for Chris to fuck him and all this and that. Unfair. (It's fine. He doesn't really mean it, and he wouldn't change a thing, BUT he's bratting, okay? Sometimes words just jump out for the sake of getting a punishment 😏) Also, Chris' ass and panties? Amen, baby, because Seb would be on his knees in a SECOND. Sebastian needs to see him in panties once in his life for... his mental health. Yeah. It's what he needs. It's what he deserves.

At the time, Chris snorts and rolls his eyes, knowing that Sebastian's being a brat, but nevertheless grabbing his wrist and wrestling Seb to the floor, face down, grinding against his ass lightly and pinning his wrists, the edge of a laugh ruining the mock serious inquiry of, "oh yeah? You wanna try sayin' that again?"

But...

The joke-slash-hidden-suggestion does eventually turn into Chris getting panties.

It has to happen. Chris just can't get it out of his mind. What would it be like? Would he like it like Sebastian does? How would Sebastian react? Even if he knew it was coming, Chris couldn't imagine the reaction would be short of spectacular and a struck dumb and hopefully speechless Sebastian is the best. Also, though, how would he, himself, react? He's been in drag before for acting, but it wasn't... that wasn't serious. This would be different.

This is different.

It's happening.

And it sounds like it might be good.

It's good enough of a concept for Chris to find himself some panties. He doesn't go out online and find something hyper, hyper feminine like something that's shimmering and pink and has bows and lace, but... he also doesn't want to get something boring.

The panties (and, oof, how does just that make him want to blush? He's said panties a million times! He's seen them! He's just never--they've never been for him)... the panties he picks out for himself are tight. They're skimpy. They're see-through in the right places, cutouts at the hips. And they're... they are certainly not meant to contain a dick. They weren't build with housing a cock in mind. So, they hardly contain him. In fact, they squeeze him tight--tighter than he expected even though he knew they'd be tight--and hold his dick and balls close to his body and make him feel... attractive.

He obviously knew that Sebastian feels good in them, it's more than half of why he puts them on! He likes them! (And he also likes how Chris reacts to them.) They make him feel minxy and sweet and desirable.

Chris feels--he swallows thickly, turning this way and that in the mirror--desirable. He's by himself when he first tries them on, and he wasn't sure if he was going to wear them for Sebastian, but he knows that he's going to now. How could he not if he feels so touchable and good in them?

Then... what do they do when Chris, rather than Sebastian, is wearing panties?

Well.

For their first encounter with the pretty clothes flipped, Chris tops--which is the usual, not always, just more common--but it's different. It feels intense and yet fragile. Passionate but fumbling as if they're re-playing their first time together.

Chris decides that he wants to tease, and he wants to go all out.

He wants to draaag it out and blindside Sebastian with it--

So, he approaches Sebastian while fully clothed, nothing fancy, just his usual at-home attire, sweats and a t-shirt, but he has the fucking panties on underneath. At first, he's playful and innocent, sitting too close to the other man, putting his hands on him as much as possible, touching and scratching and holding, and following him, too. Shadowing him for a few hours. Sebastian is playful right back, laughing and shying away, batting at his exploring hands, telling him that he's too bored, he needs to find something to do other than bother him. He loves it, though. He thinks Chris is just being a typical asshole boyfriend until...

Chris follows Seb into the bedroom, more hindering his ability to put away their laundry than helping him. With the clothes folded and put away, Chris manages to surprise a gasp out of Sebastian, pushing him flat onto the bed. Lying him out on his back, pinning his wrists to the mattress easily, and putting his weight on his thighs. Immobilizing him.

"Oh," Seb laughs, recovering near instantly and going limp underneath his familiar weight, "you could've just said something if you wanted--"

Chris cuts his comment off with a hard kiss to that stupid, smart mouth. It's just too attractive. Shapely and pink. Yeah... 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Looming over him, closer and closer, Chris puts his lips to his boyfriend's ear, murmuring, "you put on a pretty enough show for me with this--" he presses the plug he snatched out of their walk-in closet into one of Sebastian's palms "--and I'll let you in on a suprise I have for you."

When he pulls back, Sebastian's eyes are much wider and darker. Suddenly, his pretty, wet tongue glides over his lips, "and if, if I don't?" His bratty challenge is ruined by the breathless sound of his voice.

"If you don't..?" Chris raises an eyebrow at him just to watch him squirm. He shrugs one shoulder, "well, I guess you just won't get to see the surprise, huh?"

Sebastian whimpers. His fingers had already curled around the plug, but now he squeezes it.

Letting off the pressure on his wrists, Chris sits back, smirking, "you givin' up already, pretty boy? You spoiled? Don't wanna do the work yourself, do you?"

"No," the word sounds more like a moan than anything else. "No," he steadies himself, "I'm, 'm--"

He doesn't finish.

Instead, he squirms out of his own comfortable clothes. Following orders. Sitting up on his elbows, stripping his shirt off over his head, and pushing the waist band of his shorts down. His nipples are hard, already. Cute. Chris would love to drag his blunt nails over them and make him cry out and beg for more. He's so responsive. So fun to play with.

Before Chris can completely change his plans just to hear Sebastian whimper while he plays with those poor nipples, he turns over, easily folding into position--hands and knees, back arched--then fully exposes himself. Underwear gone.

Without thinking--there are about to be zero thoughts in his head anyway--Chris tosses him some lube. Then, he wanders over to the easy chair they have in the corner of the bedroom for... reading. Just reading. No other reason.

Either way, Chris settles down. Spreading his legs wide enough to accommodate for the throb of his half-hard cock. He has to force down a moan when the smooth, soft fabric of the panties under his sweats move against him. Fuck. No wonder Sebastian likes them so much. And, speaking of Sebastian--

Sebastian.

Sebastian is mouthwatering. He's so fucking well practiced here. With his thighs spread, his skin pale and so fucking pretty with a sweet dusting of peach fuzz. One hand already slick and glistening from lube, and his other hand prying himself open--putting himself on display for Chris' hungry gaze. His hole twitches as he spreads lube around the sensitive, tight muscle.

God.

A groan tears out of Chris, twinned by the urge to grind his hips up into nothing but air and the silky panties that are doing nothing but getting tighter and tighter and tighter.

Who knew this would be such torture for him?

It's designed to be for Sebastian, but... Chris didn't realize what he was doing to himself.

On their bed, Sebastian holds himself open like the sweet, considerate boy he is, even if it makes fingering himself open more challenging.

One finger.

"Mmmm," Sebastian strings out a moan that he mostly muffled into the sheets, gripping his own ass tighter, dealing with the anticipation more than any actual pleasure just yet.

Two fingers.

"Chr-Chris," Seb whines, wetly fucking himself with two fingers. Lube's making a fucking mess of him already. He's so eager that it's gotten all around between his cheeks, dripping down his perineum and onto his balls, and smeared over his hand to his wrist.

"That's it, pretty boy," Chris rumbles. He's given in somewhat, not too hard, though. For now, he's just resting his hand heavily over his cock. Even if he aches to cup himself and squeeze and stroke and rub the thin, slick fabric of the panties over himself. He won't.

Not yet.

He's saving it.

Sebastian makes it hard, God, he makes it hard, but Chris wants to save as much as he can for his boyfriend. He wants to reward him well. Because, let's face it, there's no way this show wouldn't be pretty enough.

Three fingers.

Sebastian is panting into the bed. And he keeps making these sweet, helpless sounds that set Chris on fucking fire.

It's impossible for him not to talk him through it now. He can't help it. Rumbling, "that's it, that's it, baby, just like that. Ride those fucking fingers for me. Feed that pretty hole jus' like it deserves. Yeah, you better fucking treat it nice."

Sebastian mewls--he fucking mewls. Arching his back, too, like a cat in heat.

Chris wants him.

Chris wants him carnally. Desperately.

"G-guh," Sebastian cuts himself off with a cry that jolts through him, "'m gonna cum, can, can I-I wanna, wanna. Plug?"

How can he deny him?

Rambling, lust frying his brain, he answers, "yeahh, go on, baby, put that fuckin' toy inside you. You need it. I know you need it."

Sebastian pulls his fingers out of himself with an impressively lewd sound, complaining incoherently but obeying nevertheless. With slick fingers, he picks up the plug. Also, with lube-slick fingers, he drops the plug a few times.

"Silly boy," Chris chuckles.

Sebastian shivers.

So. damn. responsive. Chris will never fucking get used to it--how Sebastian has always been so electric and sensitive.

It's addicting.

He's addicting.

The sight of his hole taking and swallowing that fucking plug is unparalleled. It's so pretty. Spreading wide, wet and ruined, then stuffed full. Twitching and clenching, milking the damn thing like it's a real cock that he can seduce into fucking him good and hard.

Precious.

"N-now what?" Sebastian whines, his fingers balled into fists. He's shaking.

Aw, he is close.

So. close.

"Now," Chris drawls, breathing hard as he shifts, pulling himself to his feet and heavily prowling toward the bed, "now," Chris wraps his hand around Sebastian's bare ankle and pulls.

Seb nearly chokes on his spit in shock, coughing around a needy whine.

Meanwhile, Chris can only groan and put more of his stength into it--yanking him back to the edge of the bed where he can press his hips against the hard, flared base of the plug and plush cheeks of his ass. Instantly, any strength Chris had to not indulge in pleasuring himself slips away. He doesn't fucking care if the lube dripping out of Sebastian around the stretch of the plug stains the crotch of his sweats, he just has to grind against him.

Jesus.

The heat of Sebastian.

The friction of the panties.

It's too much, and Chris' hands bite into Seb's hips until he cries out, begging for anything, anything, anything--he just needs more. Tomorrow, he'll have fingerprint bruises. It doesn't matter. They're just grinding and grabbing and groping and panting and moaning. They lose a handful of heady minutes to the electric pleasure sparking between their bodies. It feels so good. It's so fucking hot. Chris could be fucking Sebastian like this--easily Chris could be fucking Sebastian like this, he could rip his sweatpants down, he could pull that plug out, throw it aside, and slide right in. He's already prepped. He's wet and hot and tight and--

Christ.

Head in the game, head in the fuckin' game, Evans, Chris tells himself through a growl. He wants to tear into Sebastian.

But he rips himself away from the siren that is Sebastian. So pretty and responsive and--get it together! Fuckin', Jesus.

"Your surprise--" he leans all his weight onto Seb, making him shake even worse, and smirking against his ear regardless "--is getting to grind yourself stupid on my lap." He leaves out the best part, for now.

Still, he whines.

"You want me on the bed, baby? What'd'about back in the chair?"

Sebastian presses his face into the bed, whimpering and drawing his legs tightly together like just the thought is making him all achy. God. Like he can't choose because he's just too fucking turned on and out of his mind.

"B-bed?"

"Okay, baby," Chris backs off, much to his complaint, and gets rid of his shirt. He leaves on his sweats for now, though, crawling onto the bed and sitting up against the headboard... he absolutely also notices the way that instead of hanging heavy from his body, his throbbing cock is trapped close to his body, hot, hot, hot.

Once he's righted his spinning head, Sebastian immediately notices his non-nakedness and pouts, huffing and pawing at his hips and thighs, "take these off. Please?"

"Take 'em off yourself, then," Chris grins manically.

Seb pouts but is too eager to complain otherwise, his hands fumbling and excitable, wrestling his sweats off him, inching them down until...

Bingo.

"Hnnghohmygod--" It all comes out as one long sound of desire. Overwhelmed and needy.

Chris is hit with arousal like a bat hits a ball.

"Chris-!?" Seb whimpers, eyes glued to his cock tenting the panties obscenely.

There isn't a moment before Sebastian's hands are on him. They just are. Touching him. Scrambling over the shiny, silky fabric. Unable to get a grip but trying so damn hard to. When he can't, he does the next best thing and dives in with a sob, rubbing his face against him. Cheek to the wet spot where Chris has been leaking, overflowing with desire.

Chris moans but can't help the laugh that comes out of him either, "baby, baby, baby," he chuckles, "gotta, gotta fuckin' g-get me outta these pants so you can have more fun--"

Sebastian doesn't stop, though. He's still fucking nuzzling him like a kitten. His back is arched worse now. And looking down the line of his spine and seeing that fucking plug between his cheeks, stuffed into him, his skin wet and glistening...

Jesus.

Chris is gonna die.

He yanks him up by the hair. Seb goes with it beautifully, his eyes rolling back into his head, mouth hanging open. Fuck. Chris just can't fucking take this. So, in a chaotic blur, he gets himself out of his sweats, ripping them down his legs around Sebastian, who's been stunned stupid.

He makes sure to leave the panties on even as he kicks off his sweats.

"You gonna grind yourself silly in my lap, baby?" Chris purrs, reminding that pretty little head of what he's supposed to be doing. But, well... if Seb wants his surprise to be nuzzling against his dick and crying and licking him through his panties, Chris can live with that, too. (Fuck. Either way, that needs to happen now or later. It's got to. Chris is gonna make Sebastian jerk him off through his panties, he'll cum, and then he'll make Seb lick him clean and hump against the bed between his spread thighs. He wants to see that pretty ass move, and that wicked mouth put in work.)

For now, Sebastian climbs up, straddling his thighs and--

"Oh," Seb keens, grabbing his shoulders hard while he shakes apart in his lap. Hips moving fucking sinfully on top of him. The hard, hot line of his cock against Chris'. The thin, thin, delicate fabric between them is extra fucking hot. They're both breathing so hard. Panting. Grasping at each other. They're attempting to kiss, but they're not--They're not coordinated enough anymore. Melted apart. Mouth's open and starved. Gasping and moaning. Sweating badly. Aching.

Pleasure overtakes Chris.

It feels, fuck, it feels so fucking good.

It's intense and obscene and he wants to crawl out of his skin yet he's not even the one grinding and moving and clenching around a fucking buttplug. It's no wonder that Sebastian is perfectly liquefied, melted in his lap. Crying--sobbing and shivering.

Chris digs his fingers into his ass, he wants to mark him up. He wants to bruise that peach of an ass. He wants to spank him, so he fucking spanks him and revels in his reaction to the pleasurable pain. Sebastian jolts, moaning his name and thunking his head down on his shoulder, pressing back into his palms on his ass and forward against his throbbing cock. Chris grabs and plays with the plug inside him. And again, he moans his name, he swears, and--

"Gonna cum," he weakly cries.

Chris is sweating.

Chris is burning up, "yeah-huh, sweetheart, gonna fuckin' make a mess of my panties, huh? You gonna do it? Gonna get me all dirty?" He goads him.

"Yuh-yeah!" Seb whines, moving faster, filtier.

And he fucking does. He jerks and twitches and pumps cum over Chris' tight stomach and his trapped cock. It looks fucking intense. It's too much.

He can't take it.

His pretty boy in his lap, moving, making all these gorgeous noises and pornographic faces. Jesus. Christ.

Yeah, the panties were a good idea 😮‍💨

Chris is right there with him, it's on the tip of his tongue to gasp, 'get me out, gemme out, Seb- c'mon, baby, I- oh god,' because he's just fucking on edge and fuck any plans he had to cum in these panties. He can't. But.

But.

Chris can't get the words out. All he can do is groan and orgasm hard, curling tightly around Seb, holding onto him. Chris is fucking wrecked by pleasure. Ruined. It feels too good. The friction is delectable.

[effervescentdragon]

galex + whatever u want

it fits so much that you sent this bcs i was gonna tag you anyways, this is for @sebsrainbowbicycle and you, aka the george and lando to my alex 😘 yes, i realise how incestuous this sounds. i'm dee's sidechick anyways.

"- so he sat me down in the restaurant and told me to shut up until he's done talking and then told me he wanted us to be exclusively sleeping with each other."

Lando paused the game and stared at George. He opened his mouth, blinked three times, closed his mouth in a frown, then huffed.

"Isn't that what you've been doing anyway?" he asked. George groaned.

"I know! I didn't have the heart to tell him that's already the case with me, because I don't have the time or the energy to go," he waved his hands around, almost hitting himself in the head with the controller to Lando's immediate amusement, "screw around or something."

Lando snorted. "Or something."

"Shut up." George tried to glare at him, but he failed pretty spectacularly because he could feel he was blushing.

"When are you seeing him next?" Lando asked, unpausing the game.

"On Saturday. He's spending the night," George answered distractedly, because Lando immediately threw a Red Shell at him, the cheater.

"Huh," was all Lando said, and kicked George in the shin before he could remember to ask what that was all about.

-

"That smells wonderful, Georgie," Alex said as he stepped behind George and put his arms ariund George's waist. George was going to pretend that the heat in his cheeks was because of the oven.

"Give me a second to cool it off and you can eat the whole thing," he said, putting the poppy-seed cake on the tray.

Alex nuzzled George's neck, and it always felt so good, and then he whispered "I'd rather eat you," and George had just enough presence of mind to turn the oven off before he was dragged into the bedroom.

He didn't mind much.

-

"Bye, Georgie," Alex said, leaning in to kiss him once again.

"Bye," George replied, playing with Alex's hair tips. They were blue this time, and George thought they looked pretty cool, even though he pretended to disapprove on principle. Alex had only laughed at him, and kissed him until he forgot all of his arguments. "You'll pick me up on Thursday?"

"Yes, of course." He grinned, and George really liked how big his smile was.

"Good," was all George said, because he'd die before he said what he thought - I miss you already.

-

He was cleaning the stove when it hit him.

He almost brained himself trying to get to the phone. He did drop the phone, because he forgot to take his rubber gloves off. The screen-protecting glass cracked a little, so he'd have to change it, but that wasn't important because -

'Hell-'

"Am I dating Alex?"

There was a moment's pause on the line before Lando burst out laughing.

'I was wondering when you'd catch up! My money was on another two weeks at least, but oh well. Good for you.'

George sat down on the floor. "What the fuck."

'Very good fuck, from what you've been saying,' he said through laughter. 'I need to congratulate him on being smart enough to pull this. Good for him, not letting you sag - uh -'

"Sabotage," George corrected him quietly. "Yeah."

Lando said nothing for a moment. 'It'll be fine, yeah? He's good for you.'

"Yeah," George replied. "Yeah, he is."

-

The monologue George had been practicing for three days in front of the mirror went out of his head the moment he opened his door and saw Alex smiling and twirling a single daisy inbetween his fingers.

"Are we dating?"

Alex blinked, taken aback, and something in his expression became closed. George didn't like it.

"We are going on a date right now, Georgie, if that's -"

"Alex." he said, and Alex stopped talking. "Don't. Please."

Alex nodded seriously. "We are only dating if you want us to be dating, George," he said softly. "I told you when we - when this started. I like you. I'm not pressuring you into anything. Whatever you want us to be, I'm comoletely fine with that."

George's heart was beating too fast. He was gripping the door handle too tight. He thought he shouldn't be able to breathe, but he could smell Alex's deodorant and cologne and breathing was the easiest thing in the world.

"Okay," he said, and stepped forward, and kissed Alex.

He felt Alex smile into the kiss, and he broke it off. "Did everyone know asides from me?" he asked, and Alex laughed.

"Yeah," he said, grinning. "I think Charles won the pool. Lando was pretty pissed off about that." He kissed George briefly. "Fuck them. I got you."

George felt his pulse in his throat.

"Yeah," he said slowly, tangling Alex's fingers with his. "You do."

[scrollonso]

First Kiss (Race 17)

A strollonso AU where 18 year old rookie Lance Stroll falls helplessly in love with the notoriously mean world champion. (1.5k words, no warnings) [@v3lnys @biancathecool] {fluff chapter! they go on a little date :3}

last part - masterlist - next part (coming soon)

As soon as Lance got off the plane, he checked his phone and smiled at the name on his screen. Nando.

"You are free tonight?"

"Yep," Lance quickly typed, coming to a standstill in the middle of the airport.

"Dress pretty, I'll come at 5." The Canadian nodded to himself and wheeled his suitcase out to the car his dad had sent for him.

Over the past week, Lance had finally come out to his father. He was scared of how his dad would react, but Lawrence had simply hugged him and apologized for the hurtful things he said. Lance had cried, feeling both embarrassed and relieved. This time, his dad didn't call him a queer for his long hair, (but he did ask if that's why he was growing it out, like a mating call.)

Back at the hotel, Lance anxiously checked the time as he lay on his stomach on the bed. He'd been dressed for two hours already, and there were still 20 minutes until 5. Sharing the room with Nico meant Nico had to endure Lance's constant whining and complaining as he waited.

"Bubu," Nico started, Lance looking over at him before he continued "Shut up."

"You're so rude." Lance groaned again, slamming his face into the pillow in his arms "If you were waiting for Lewis you'd be impatient too." He mumbled into the pillow

As soon as Fernando picked Lance up, his face was lit with a broad smile. "You clean up well," he teased, leaning in to give Lance a quick kiss on the cheek.

Lance blushed, his heart racing. "Thanks. You look great."

In the car, they talked easily, their hands occasionally brushing against each other.

Fernando's thumb gently stroked the back of Lance's hand, sending shivers down his spine. Even though they'd been together for months at this point Lance still felt like he had an embarrassing highschool crush.

They arrived at a cozy Italian restaurant, a favorite of Fernando's, with dim lighting and an intimate atmosphere.

The host led them to a quiet corner table, where they settled in. Fernando reached across the table and took Lance's hand. "I've been looking forward to this all day," he admitted, his eyes softening as he gazed at Lance.

"Me too," Lance replied, squeezing his hand. "It feels good to be here with you. I missed you"

When the waiter arrived, Fernando confidently ordered for both of them. "We'll start with the bruschetta and caprese salad, and for the main course, the seafood risotto and the truffle gnocchi."

Lance smiled, appreciating his decisiveness, knowing that he would've stared at the menu helplessly if he had to order for himself. "You really know your way around a menu," he laughed, remembering how Fernando had talked about this place before.

Fernando hummed. "Is not too hard, I know what you like."

As they waited for their food, the conversation naturally shifted to the upcoming Grand Prix.

"Are you ready for the race?" Fernando asked, his eyes meeting Lance's in the warmly lit resteraunt, it wasn't too busy so there was no reason for them to pretend this wasn't a date.

"Definitely," Lance replied. "The team's been working hard on the car, and Nico's been great. What about you and Giancarlo?"

Fernando nodded, a playful grin on his lips at the thought of his close friend and teammate. "We've been pushing Renault to the limits, am convinced the engineers are tired of both of us. The circuit is hard, but always a fun one."

Lance leaned in, eyes lidded slightly as he smiled at his boyfriend, laughing at his own anxiousness. "I'm worried."

Fernando laughed too, the sound warm and reassuring. "You’ll get it. Just trust yourself."

Their appetizers arrived, and they shared bites of bruschetta and caprese salad, playfully feeding each other small bites and laughing at the mess they made. The conversation flowed from racing to personal stories, with Lance sharing funny anecdotes about his childhood and Fernando recounting his early days in racing, really whatever they could think of that the other didn't know.

When the main courses arrived, they dug into the rich flavours, occasionally stealing bites from each other's plates.

Fernando brushed a strand of hair away from Lance's face, his touch lingering. "You have no idea how happy I am right now, Mi sol." he said softly.

Lance smiled, his heart swelling with affection. "Me too. I missed you."

As the evening went on, their hands found each other across the table, fingers intertwined. They talked about their hopes for the future they wanted together, their fears, anything and everything that came to mind. Fernando's support and understanding made Lance feel more confident and secure, ready for the weekend ahead.

When they finally left the restaurant, the night air was cool, and Fernando wrapped his arm around Lance's shoulders, pulling him close. "You'll do great, Lance. Just remember why you love it."

Lance smiled, feeling a warmth in his chest. "Thanks, Nando. I needed that."

Back in the car, they drove back to the hotel, the city lights reflecting in their eyes. Fernando parked and turned to Lance, his expression serious but tender. "I believe in you, Lance. Both on and off the track."

Lance leaned in and kissed him, a slow, lingering kiss that conveyed all the feelings words couldn't express. "I love you," he whispered.

Fernando smiled, his eyes sparkling with emotion. "I love you too, Mi vida."

The Suzuka Circuit was buzzing with anticipation as the weekend kicked off. Qualifying had been a mixed affair for the drivers. Fernando was barely leading the championship and only managed to secure 5th on the grid. Lance had managed to place 11th, earlier in the season he would've celebrated but 11th was embarrassing in a race-winning car.

The lights went out, and away they went. Fernando had a great start, quickly moving up to 3rd by the end of the first lap. His driving was precise and aggressive, every move perfect.

Lance, starting from the middle, was determined to score points for Racing Point again. By lap 10, he had already made his way up to 8th, maneuvering through the field with newfound confidence and determination to not let down his team. Nico was battling just behind him, holding his own and supporting the team's efforts.

Renault'a strategy came into play as the race progressed. He timed his pit stops perfectly, managing to leapfrog his rivals and move into 2nd place. With ten laps to go, he managed an overtake for the lead, cementing his position at the front. From there, he maintained a relentless pace, never giving his competitors a chance to catch up.

Lance, meanwhile, continued to impress. By the final laps, he had climbed to 6th place, a remarkable feat given his starting position and the teams results earlier in the season.

As the chequered flag waved, Fernando crossed the finish line first, securing a vital win and extending his lead in the championship. The crowd erupted in applause, celebrating his drive as they alwaya did. Lance finished in 6th, an excellent result that underscored his growing potential.

The podium ceremony was a blur of cheers and champagne. Fernando stood tall on the top step, the Spanish anthem playing as he raised the trophy high. Lance watched from the sidelines, his heart swelling with pride and admiration for his boyfriend. He couldn't wait to see his lover on the top step a hundred more times.

After the ceremony, Fernando made his way through the throngs of well-wishers to find Lance. Their eyes met, and a smile spread across Fernando’s face. Lance stepped forward, not hesitating before embracing him tightly.

"You were incredible out there," Lance murmured, his voice distorted in the fabric of the Spaniards fireproofs.

Fernando pulled back slightly, looking into Lance’s eyes. "You too, Lancito. Sixth place is amazing. Getting better every weekend."

Nico eventually joined them, a satisfied grin on his face. He had finished 9th, a solid result, but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. Lance caught him glancing towards the paddock entrance where Lewis Hamilton, still in GP2, was standing. There had been whispers about Nico and Lewis, and it seemed those rumors were grounded in truth.

As the evening wore on, the celebrations moved to the Renault hospitality area. Fernando and Lance found a quieter corner, away from the people still in blue and yellow.

"Every race, I see more of your potential," Fernando said softly, his hand brushing Lance's as he continued to praise him.

Lance smiled, leaning into Fernando's touch. "I only drive fast because the sooner I'm done the sooner I can see you," He laughed, embarrassed at his own confession

Their connection was undeniable, even those convinced it was purely platonic couldn't deny the connection between the two polar opposite drivers. In that moment, surrounded by the hum of celebration, they found a moment of peace and intimacy.

"To many more victories," Lance whispered, his voice full of promise.

Fernando smiled, pulling Lance closer. "Together"

[claraxbarton]

Gold Rush chapter 15 finally here!

[rotisseries]

I'm so unbelievably susceptible to the famous secret relationship trope it's unreal actually

[phos-phorus]

Struggled to come up with a full story line to build up on and suddenly I get a burst of energy in the middle of the night.

Now I’m writing with the ideas flooding in and tears lowkey welling up in my eyes. Had to take my glasses off in between 💀

My writing isn’t nearly as good as the scenes playing on repeat in my head so don’t expect too much but I can promise that I’ll do my best.

Tragic Launt story will be longer than the ones I’ve written before so it takes a bit longer. Sorry!

[natashasbitxh]

Hello! This is the same anon from a few days ago thanking you for the Shaynse inspo. I finished my fic if you want to read it😊 archiveofourown.org/works/53622442

AHHH thank you so much for coming back to let me know!!

I can't currently read it but I know shaynse nation have been crying out for more fics lately so I should share!

Once I read it, I will definitely be leaving a comment🫶🫶

[hoohoobeanie]

gold rush snippet bcos im proud of myself for actually putting something of substance into it yesterday

(hopefully ill do a little more today too)