miscellaneous f1 fics
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Summary
"Lando is so pretty." Charles said suddenly, sounding genuinely awestruck about it.
Oscar paused mid-drink.
Carlos snorted without even looking up. "Oh yeah, totally. Have you seen him in a skirt? He's fucking pretty."
They agreed to keep it weightless—no emotions, no strings, only desire and laughter. A harmless arrangement. Easy, right?
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Lando loves summer break. He loves the hazy Spanish air that wafts through their open balcony doors. He loves the two men that touch him and kiss him like they're worshipping his body.
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“Daniel,” Lando said, a bit whinier than before.
Lando knew how to be a good boy; he just had to let himself get there.
It was like muscle memory for him, like riding a bike or warming his tires on an out lap.
He didn’t have to think about it.
He just had to sink into the feeling.
OR: Lando lets himself be taken care of after winning in Miami, and Daniel thinks a picture is worth a thousand words.
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“Are they not?” he grins, so damn smug, as he settles his hands back on your hips. “They’re in my pocket now. I’d say that makes them mine.”
Something warm washes over you, and it rivals the hot temperature outside. Your watery eyes blink back at Max, who looks at you like a challenge he’s already won. And that just won’t do.
“Give them back.”
“Then take them.”
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Charles looks up at him, and there’s something soft in his eyes when he asks, “Do you want me to turn around so you can pretend I’m him?”
Series
- Part 4 of F1 Fanfic