Li doesn't exist

25, she/her GR63 LN1 CL16

[lidoesntexist]

index

drabbles

highlights

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fics;

emergency

carlos/george, 15k George cursed. Shit, fuck, dammit, shit. Everything that came to mind was a curse, or a word spat like a curse. It was all fucked up–no, he fucked up. There was nothing for Russell to hide behind, not his pride, not his dignity, not his nonexistent relationship with him. All because of the positive pregnancy test shaking in his hand.

[killnighmares]

it's all because of their handshakes

[fascinatedbynicorosberg]

No Longer Human

Jenson Button/Nico Rosberg, Sebastian Vettel, George Russel, Max Verstappen, Fernando Alonso, Michael Schumacher

Cyborgs AU: Steampunk Identity Crisis Hurt/Comfort

“You look happy today.” That was… Unexpected, to say the least. Nico turned to him immediately. “What do you mean, happy? I can’t be happy. Not because I’m sad all the time, but- Like- I can’t smile, or be bright, or I don’t know, things humans consider happiness.” or; After a terrible crash, Nico's conscience had to be transferred to a cybernetic body. 10 years later he does not consider himself human at all. Jenson wants to prove him wrong.

[08livion]

Don't even ask why Kalle Rovanperä is there.. I didn't know who else to put and my friend told me to put him.. and we joked around and apparently now he is also their child 😔😔

[mrroiroi]

Has emotionals face (meme face) from his mom

But has pufferfish behavior from his dad

[kuzzirog]

fem schumacher againn

[nr6dose]

Day 121

Okay baby girl whatever you want.

[poreyneel]

f1 fencing AU princesscake

[soluda]

[overtake]

red bull's admin is cruel for ruining this clip with fancam transitions but he eats regardless

[thearchercore]

the interaction is now unlocked from both pov's

[wietskerichthofen]

[fancat-not-fangirl]

My eternally beautiful princess Nico Rosberg 🤍

[astralcorpse-png]

Forgot to post this Britney art here.

[lidoesntexist]

Because of course Charles and Max are testing all alone. Of course they drive through the rain together. Of course a rainbow appears later to watch over their dance.

This is crazy.

[lidoesntexist]

Every time I read "princesscake" I think it has something to do with cakeverse, and the vision of cake nr6 plagues my mind

[lidoesntexist]

landoscar drabble, rated r, ~500w

Oscar is fighting demons because a beautiful man is dancing on his lap (terrible time and place, to boot).

Oscar Piastri was hard. Oscar was rock hard, throbbing, aroused.

He was also really fucking angry, but that was easier to hide. His face barely let on to some discomfort, with his jaw tightly clenched and his left eyebrow twitching irregularly.

On the other hand, his heartbeat was louder than the song in the back and his mind was racing faster than the MCL39 at full throttle. His blood was lava. His Adam's apple bobbed from time to time as he tried to swallow the burning away, and his toes curled tightly inside his shoes to try and redirect his attention.

And all of that because, unfortunately, his vision wasn’t blurry or hazy under the psychedelic party lights and fog from the smoke machine. He could perfectly see Lando Norris dancing sensually on his lap.

Every detail in front of Oscar was crystal clear, each one engraving itself in his memory. The tanned, sweat slick skin of the man straddling him, moving to the beat. The way the black fabric of his shirt stuck to toned muscles in all the right places, colored lights casting the right shadows. That defined Adonis belt, showing shamelessly above the waistband of black pants, came into view every time the shirt lifted. Every time those hands, intentionally, lifted it, showing just enough abdominal area to edge Oscar, but never enough to go full pornographic.

A brown curl brushed Oscar’s temple as Lando got even closer.

“I think you know what this is,” Lando whispered, following the track. His lips brushed Oscar’s earlobe as he spoke. His breath was warm. “I think you wanna, uh,” with the very last word, or, rather, moan, Lando rolled his hips.

The sudden friction forced a grunt from the back of Oscar’s throat. His lips were pressed tightly, so the sound was faint, but it sure was heard by Lando. Piastri could feel his smirk, and for a second he thought Lando would bite his ear.

But Lando didn’t bite him. He pulled away enough to keep on dancing, this time forcing Oscar to meet his gaze by holding his head in place. Rolling his hips some more, on beat. Lips parted, breathing ragged. Gasping from apparent exhaustion in between lip syncing the words.

It was too much. So much, in fact, Oscar ignored everything and everyone in the room and grabbed Lando’s hips to stop him.

His hands fit there, right above Lando’s defined hip bones, so nicely. Like they were meant to hold him all along. Oscar shook his head slightly. He had to use more force than he initially thought, manhandling Lando to get him to stay still.

Lando stared down at him with a knowing smirk, as if he could read his mind, as if he could see the positions Oscar was forcing him into in his imagination. The things he’d do to him if he lost control. Yeah, getting him to stop dancing didn’t taste like victory.

With Lando it rarely did.

Oscar couldn’t hold Lando’s gaze any longer. He looked around at the entertained and intoxicated drivers who were cheering. Most of them paid them no mind, though, dancing or drinking or on their phones. Or all of the above. Oscar caught the birthday boy’s eyes from across the room, number 16, who was sourly sipping his Corona with a hand in his pocket.

They were never getting invited again.