#words*mine

[rawrkittenpurr]

sentence prompt:

The power's been out for two hours when it starts to get cold.

thanks for playing with me! 🧡

The power's been out for two hours when it starts to get cold. At first, Oscar tries to hide the shivers when they hit. He tenses up all of his muscles, then systematically begins to unclench them one by one, willing his autonomous nervous system to obey him. 

Truth be told, he’s been hiding a lot of things over the past hours in an attempt to project calmness. While Carlos, ever the constructive optimist, has been repeatedly declaring “we can fix this” and “someone is coming to fix this”, at some point Oscar’s begun to wonder if his reassurances are meant for him at all, or if Carlos is just trying to keep himself from despairing. By now, his statements sound more like affirmations than solutions to Oscar, and so he’s stopped replying to them. It has become clear that Carlos doesn’t want input or logic, he just wants to feel competent, like he’s in charge and not at the complete mercy of factors outside of his control. More than once, Oscar’s caught him checking his useless, bar-less phone surreptitiously, poking at it and huffing when faced with the reality that no matter how many times he turns airplane mode on and off, there’s no service. If there’s nothing Oscar can do to fix this mess, at the very least, he can keep silent and not agitate Carlos further with things he can’t change anyway. That’s also why he’s been swallowing his apologies down, because even though it’s totally his fault that they’re stuck here, he doesn’t want to force Carlos’ forgiveness, nor his sympathies. For the same reason, he also hasn’t told Carlos that his phone ran out of battery around half an hour ago, he just diligently confirms that no, he doesn’t have any service either whenever Carlos asks, every five minutes or so. He’s been doing his breathing exercises to stave off the nausea, praising his trainer’s name for drilling them into him, because they do work, but he’s been doing them silently, unobtrusively, behind Carlos’ back as he paces back and forth like a caged feline. And now, he doesn’t want to draw attention to his impeding hypothermia, or shock, or whatever it is that’s making him feel like he’s freezing worse than any ice bath ever could. He’ll be fine.

The thing is, it’s not even supposed to be this cold. Sure, it’s the middle of November, but it’s been an unseasonably mild day earlier, and they were set to be back home safely before the storm hit. But then they got delayed due to the accident, the storm cut the power off, and here they are, trapped. Again, it’s all Oscar’s fault…

He must drift off at some point, because the next thing he knows, Carlos’ fingers are poking him in the side. “Oscar,” he whispers, accent round and familiar around his name, “don’t pass out, you have to stay awake.”

“Pretty sure that’s for like, internal bleeding, not concussions, mate,” Oscar snaps back but it doesn’t have any bite to it, especially not when his teeth are chattering.

Carlos notices, of course, looks at Oscar inquisitively. “You’re cold,” he points out, observant as always, and pulls his hoodie off, offering it to Oscar.

“No, keep it. You’ll need it too,” Oscar tries to decline, because he might be shivering right now, but surely, Carlos can’t stay warm enough in just a t-shirt either long term, and who knows how long they’ll have to stay here.

“You need it more,” Carlos shrugs, “I can jump.” He underlines this statement by doing two jumping jacks, and even just looking at the movement is making Oscar’s vision spin. He breathes in deeply through his nose, out through his mouth, waits for the dizziness to subside. Then he concedes and pulls the hoodie over his head. It’s comfortably warm from Carlos’ body heat, soft and worn-in, but Oscar has no illusions that the heat will stay as he burrows his ice cold fingers into the kangaroo pocket. He doesn’t normally like anyone touching him, save for the very few people he’s forged emotional bonds with, the idea of a stranger’s casual touch usually making him squirm. Yet he has to admit that he wouldn’t mind some physical closeness with Carlos right now. Not that he’s going to ask for it, or even dissect this idea any further, it’s just—

A particularly bad tremble has Oscar’s whole body shaking, catching Carlos’ attention. This alone shouldn’t warrant the distraught look on Carlos’ face, but then his body won’t stop quivering, no matter how much he wills himself to be still, and Oscar realises with a start that he’s sobbing.

[rawrkittenpurr]

we're going through a heatwave and i couldn't stop thinking about that towel video, so.

“What the fuck was that?” Gabi demands, following Nico into his driver's room. “Out there.”

“I heard that they were celebrating your points, didn’t wanna miss it,” Nico shrugs.

“So you showed up in your towel? It could have slipped!”

“You have way too little faith in my towel tying skills. Besides, we’re in Austria. People go to the sauna naked with their colleagues all the time here.”

“But you’re not Austrian, you’re German. I’ve been taught that’s an important distinction.”

“Yeah, I am German, which means I’m not so prudish about being naked. Ever heard of Freikörperkultur, baby? Don’t you Brazilians have nudist beaches too? Or is that just so you can look at hot Brazilian girls topless?”

“What about the team, then?” Gabi responds, decidedly not thinking about which Brazilian women Nico finds hot. “They aren’t Austrian or German or Brazilian. They shouldn’t have to accidentally see your penis.”

“Eh, they’ve seen enough of Valtteri’s ass to be desensitized.”

“I see, you have an explanation for everything!” Gabi is becoming more and more agitated. 

“Yeah, it’s not so fun when you’re the one being talked back to, is it? Actually, I also know why you’re so mad. I think you’re jealous.”

Something snaps in Gabi at that, a last restraint tethering him to some semblance of normality. 

“Yeah, you know everything? So what if I am?” He’s all up in Nico’s personal space now, any traces of his shyness from earlier gone without an audience. He sees Nico’s eyes zeroing in on him, focused and burning. Gabi reaches down to feel the outline of Nico’s dick through the towel, hardening quickly. Annoyingly, the towel is still in place, he might have to concede his point there, but he uses this to his advantage, reaching through the folds for Nico’s cock and giving it a few experimental tugs before uncovering it, by now fully hard. 

“What if I don’t want everyone to see you like this?” He collects saliva in his mouth then bends his head down and opens his mouth, letting it drip down on Nico’s cock. Nico is speechless now, watching Gabi work his spit over his dick. 

“I know you’re a whore, old man, but maybe it’s time for me to do something about it.” Gabi pumps his fist tight and fast, letting his thumb swipe across the sensitive head every now and again, keeping his eyes on Nico’s face. Just as he’s starting to groan and twitch, Gabi’s phone goes off and he lets go instantly. 

“Ah, must be the 10 minute reminder. We have to go do press. I’ll take a shower. You, put on some clothes,” Gabi orders. “And don’t you dare think about touching that,” he adds, nodding at Nico’s dick, before storming out the door, leaving him breathless. 

[rawrkittenpurr]

"Is that my sweater?" Esteban asked, an incredulous smile on his lips.

thank you sm for entertaining me, nat! 🤍 hope you like it.

“Is that my sweater?” Esteban asked, an incredulous smile on his lips.

“No,” Ollie deadpanned, not even looking up from his phone.

“No? Liar.” Esteban flopped down next to Ollie on the couch. He contemplated whacking the phone out of his hands in one swift motion, like Iris sometimes did when she felt like she had been neglected, demanding more attention.

“That’s an unfair accusation,” Ollie replied, bemused, finally lowering the phone and fixing his gaze on Esteban.

“Yeah? So it’s a coincidence that I have an identical blue sweater to that one over there?” He cocked his head in the direction of the chair, navy blue knitwear folded over the back.

“I didn’t say that,” Ollie grinned, but made no move to further explain himself. Evidently, this was all he was going to add on the matter, as he was already picking up his phone again, tapping the screen alive. It was infuriating, but Esteban wouldn’t let himself be baited. It had taken him months, but by now, he knew better than to fall for Ollie’s antics. Instead, he leveraged his position on the couch and attacked Ollie with tickles, the question of the sweater momentarily forgotten.

&&&

Admittedly, November was too early to film holiday videos, but the content had to be ready before the end of the season, and between everyone’s conflicting schedules and constant late comers, the earlier you would get something done, the better liked you were by the F1 social team; goodwill that they all sorely needed. That’s how Esteban ended up in a Santa hat in 30 degree heat, opening his secret Santa present a month early. Tearing the paper off his floppy gift revealed a soft, thick lump of dark blue fabric, definitely fitting more with the Christmas vibe than the summery temperatures currently surrounding them. He unfolded the sweater carefully, trying to school his features into something resembling neutral. On the front, a polo bear was dressed up as Spider-Man. It was silly, cute and, most of all, strikingly familiar, almost an exact duplicate of a sweater he owned, except for the bear’s costume. Esteban hadn’t even been aware that you could get these sweaters customised, and was almost certain that the gift cost more than the arbitrarily enforced budget they were given for this game. None of that did anything to stop the warmth spreading in his chest. He held the sweater up to the camera to show it off, ducking behind it for a momentary respite from prying eyes.

“So who do you think it’s from?” The girl prompted from behind the camera.

“Oh I know this is from Ollie,” Esteban replied affectionately, not even attempting to hide the fondness in his voice.

It was only once the cameras were off and he got a few minutes of relative privacy on the balcony where they’d been filming that he dared to open the small card, tucked away neatly in the side of the packaging.

“Now it’s yours,” it read in Ollie’s scrawny handwriting.

[rawrkittenpurr]

i wanted some inspiration for my toxic exes love triangle, but @beachesgetpeaches said let there be domestic fluff and baby clothes instead, so behold, some maxiel.

Max is sorting through the packages that Daniel’s brought back earlier, piled high on the kitchen island. There shouldn’t be too much sponsored stuff – this is not their business address, it’s out of the way and is officially registered under the Hermanns – but he can spot a few brightly coloured, branded boxes that he supposes are work related still. Perhaps someone at Red Bull forwarded them here, stupid but not impossible. He tosses those to one side, moves the generic brown cardboard boxes stuck shut with Amazon tape to another corner, those will probably be restocks of some basic supplies that they buy in bulk; nappies, diaper cream, cat litter, poop bags.

Olivia is just starting to get fussy, Max can hear her take some heavy breaths that are usually a sign that she’s minutes away from complaining at full volume. He’d really like to finish this one thing uninterrupted, but after contemplating his options briefly, he opts to go over and pick her up from her play mat. Sorting the mail one handed is still a hell of a lot better than dealing with a hysterical baby.

“Look at all this stuff your daddy’s ordered again. He does love a treat, doesn’t he, little one?” Max chats at his daughter with an amused smile while she, now satisfied with the attention, blabbers nonsensically before stuffing the head of the rubber hippo she’s holding into her mouth. Max continues with the task at hand, an understated, pastel coloured box catching his eye. It’s not crass enough packaging to be from any sports brand, but it’s also way more tasteful than those generic boxes sex shops usually use that try so hard to be inconspicuous that they end up looking uncanny. He doesn’t recognize the brand, but that doesn’t mean anything. He considers whether he should open it or wait for Daniel, but for some reason, the parcel has him intrigued, and he’s fairly sure it’s not a sex toy. Plus it’s not like Olivia would be scarred, even if it ended up being something NSFW, whatever is inside, she’d probably only want to clutch it in her little fist, shake it, throw it, or slobber over it, potentially all of the above. Just as he’s trying to get around the logistics of opening the box one handed, Daniel walks in, sweaty and a little out of breath, and drops his earbuds on the counter next to the boxes.

“Hey, you’re back. How was your run?”

“Eh, it was okay,” Daniel comes up behind them, hugging Max’s waist and pressing a quick kiss to his lips before turning his attention to Olivia, “but I missed this little munchkin!”

“Daniel, don’t be ridiculous. You were gone for 40 minutes,” Max scolds, but he can’t keep the fondness out of his voice.

“Yeah and it’s completely unreasonable to miss her after less than an hour. Unlike when you FaceTimed us while getting your hair cut to check in on us.”

“Ah, but that’s different. You know I hate getting my hair cut.”

“And you needed her for emotional support?”

“So they only want to talk about her, and I don’t need to make small talk,” Max explains, rolling his eyes like this is self-evident. He hands Olivia over to Daniel, who is delighted by having both of them back in one place and doesn’t even squirm when Daniel presses a sweaty kiss onto her belly. She just reaches out and tries to tug his damp curls.

“Can you entertain her for a bit, just until I finish this, please? Then you can go take a shower,” Max asks, and Daniel nods. He walks over to the living room, bouncing his daughter in the air and cooing at her, while Max returns his attention to the box in front of him.

“Hey, can I open this?” he shouts, pointing at the pastel coloured box from earlier as if Daniel’s able to see what he’s referring to.

“Sure, go ahead,” comes the answer from the other room. So Max gets to work, carefully slicing the tape open with a knife and pulling off the lid once it’s unstuck. He was right, it isn’t anything R-rated, in fact it’s quite the opposite: it’s children’s clothing. When he holds the garments up, it’s revealed to be a little summery linen set of shorts and a shirt, apparently Italian themed with some pastel coloured flowers, fruit, bowls of ice cream, waves and little smiling suns. It looks exactly like the sort of thing Daniel would wear himself, Max is pretty sure he was disappointed that it doesn’t come in his size. It’s really cute, but with the clothes removed, Max now spots the invoice sitting at the bottom of the box and has to do a double take.

“Daniel, why are we paying 142€ for this?” Max barges into the living room, holding up the incriminating pieces of tiny clothing.

“Come on, Max, they are so cute! She’ll be adorable in them. And it’s getting really warm now, she needs summer clothes.”

“She’s got plenty of clothes,” Max states.

“Yes, because you got 20-packs of everything in like, three basic colours. I refuse to raise a monochrome child, Max! She needs whimsy in her life.”

“Her clothes are the same colours because that’s easier for the laundry. Besides, she’s growing so fast, she will wear this maybe twice! This is stupid money to pay, Daniel. What will we do with it in a month when she’s grown out of it?”

“We’ll keep it, duh. For her baby brother. Or sister,” Daniel flashes a megawatt smile at Max, blinking up at him from the couch, and Max is momentarily dumbfounded.

“Her baby… Daniel, you want to— you want another kid?”

“Of course I do, baby. Olivia’s been the second best decision of my life, after marrying you,” Daniel replies, standing up and pulling Max into a kiss. And Max knows this isn’t how people usually go about discussing these things, really, but when have they ever done things the usual way? They seem to be on the same page, and that’s all that matters.

[rawrkittenpurr]

i feel like we collectively moved on too fast from this radio, so here’s me trying to fix that in 1.2k words

“Max really did that, it’s crazy!”

People have advised Gabi to tone it down, to be more mysterious at the very least if outright hostile isn’t a possibility, but he can’t help it. He’s open with his feelings, they are too big to be contained, spilling out of him, ripping at the seams. And he’s proud of Max, of course he is, how could he not be?

“Yeah, I know. He’s incredible,” Nico concedes, and there’s no malice in his voice, no jealousy, just a soft smile.

“Ha, but you’re supposed to be incredible, no?”

“Like the Incredible Hulk? Gabriela, did you just make a reference I actually get? Are you getting old?” Nico chuckles, swats him on the arm.

“I think I am spending too much time with Ollie, probably…” Gabi shakes his head.

“So what do you say, should we congratulate him later? In person?” Nico suddenly asks, and Gabi startles at the implication. That isn’t what he— they aren’t like— it’s not what they do, Max and him. Max has never been into younger guys, and Gabi not into older ones, as a rule, not before Nico. But it’s also not usual for them with Nico, not since his podium, but that was different. He doesn’t like sharing, normally. Gabi searches Nico’s face for any kind of a tell that he’s joking, that this is a test, for traces of anger or jealousy, but finds none. Nico’s gaze is open, warm, calm, irresistible.

“Can we?” he asks, still tentative, hating how small it comes out, revealing hopefulness.

“Of course,” Nico replies easily, hugging him close.

Gabi doesn’t know what strings Nico pulls to arrange it, who he has to talk to, all he knows is not even half an hour after the podium celebration they’re standing in front of Max’s door, knocking softly and being let in swiftly.

“Hey guys,” Max greets them casually, like this is normal. Maybe it is. Maybe when you’re a multiple time world champion, you get used to people coming to you like this all the time. Gabi can’t imagine Lewis being taken aback by it either, now that he thinks about it. But that doesn’t matter now.

“Hi, Max,” he says instead, willing his voice to be steady.

“Gabi wanted to congratulate you, but he’s being a little shy,” Nico explains, and for once, Gabi is glad that he’s in control, isn’t trying to fight him to be in charge of the conversation.

“Oh yeah?” Max asks, eyebrows slightly raised, turning his face towards Gabi but continuing to address Nico. “That’s not how I know him.”

“Tell him,” Nico prompts, and Gabi’s brain kicks back into action. There’s no need to be anxious about this; everyone knows what they’re here for and Gabi knows what he’s doing. He scans Nico’s face one last time, making sure he’s really fine with this, but detects no signs suggesting otherwise. So he fixes his gaze on Max, meeting his eyes head on.

“Can I suck your dick?”

“Yeah,” Max says, voice coming out slightly croaky, and walks backward until the back of his legs hits the bed. Nico stays back to ensure the door is closed while Gabi follows Max, eager, dropping to his knees in the open space between his thighs, not missing the small gasp escaping Max. Gabi smiles to himself before looking up at Max through his lashes smugly.

“That’s it, baby.” Nico praises, his voice suddenly coming from very close behind Gabi. “He looks too good like this and he knows it,” Nico adds, addressing Max, but resting a hand on the back of Gabi’s neck and squeezing slightly. Gabi can’t tell if it’s supposed to be encouraging or possessive. He leans into it instinctively either way.

He’s on a roll now, running his hands up the inside of Max’s legs, palming him through the fabric of his pants. He’s wearing jeans, which can’t be comfortable, so Gabi fiddles with the button and the zipper, and Max cooperates, lifts his hips so that Gabi can push them down to under his butt, giving them just enough space. He licks at the shape of Max in his underwear, mouth hot and wet through the soft cotton, feeling him firm up. He’s not fully hard yet by the time Gabi takes his cock out but he’s mostly there, foreskin pulled back slightly to reveal a flushed red tip. Gabi swirls his tongue around it, sucking Max deep into his mouth. Keeping his tongue flat and soft, he bobs his head a few times, more teasing than anything. He looks up at Max to check the effect he’s having but finds that Max’s eyes aren’t even on him, he’s staring intently at where Gabi presumes Nico is standing behind him. This is entirely unacceptable, so he doubles down on his effort, sliding his tongue along the underside of Max’s dick, swirling it around the head, hollowing his cheeks. He knows he’s succeeded when he tastes the saltiness of pre-come on his tongue, hears a sharp intake of breath – behind him, not above him. Abruptly, Gabi realizes that obviously him showing off is doing something for Nico as well as getting Max off, and the thought goes straight to his dick. He chokes on a moan around Max that would be vulgar except it’s completely genuine, Gabi’s eyes fluttering close involuntarily as he swallows Max down deep, buries his nose in the coarse blonde hairs at the base of his dick. Twin groans sound above him.

“Go ahead,” he hears Nico and he doesn’t know if it’s meant for him or Max, but he’s not convinced any of them could tell for certain at this point. What he does know is that suddenly, Max’s got a firm hand tangled into the curls at the back of his head. Gabi keeps him deep and swallows around him, balancing on the edge of too much, testing the limits of his gag reflex, moving impossibly further and only pulling back every now and then when the need for air becomes an urgent necessity. There’s tears collecting along his lash line and he’s painfully hard in his pants. But all of that is beside the point when he hears Max cursing above him, Nico praising him. Switching it up, Gabi settles into a steady rhythm, bringing one hand to the base of Max’s cock and the other to his balls. Before long, Max is pulling him back by his hair, his other hand joining Gabi’s on his dick and within a few pumps of his fist he’s coming across Gabi’s face, into his mouth, obediently opened and waiting for him. Gabi swallows and wipes at his face with the back of his hand before scrambling to his feet, dazed and fucked out.

“What do you say?” Nico asks and Gabi’s got a reply ready at the tip of his tongue when he hears Max speak, realizing the question was meant for him.

“Fuck. Thank you, Gabi,” Max answers. Motioning towards Gabi, he asks “Should I—“

“I’ll take care of him,” Nico cuts him off, calm and protective. But there’s a glint in his eye as he steadies Gabi with a hand on his waist that makes a shiver run down Gabi’s spine, excited for what’s to come.

“Thank you,” Gabi echoes Max, unsure who he’s directing it at exactly, “and congrats,” he adds, almost as an afterthought. All at once, he wants to get out of here, the need to be alone with Nico urgent and all-encompassing. He leans into Nico, tucks himself under his arm, until they’re touching shoulder to hip, and finally, they’re out the door.

[rawrkittenpurr]

What Came Spilling Out

max/carlos, explicit, 3,4k

Carlos giggled a bit, high-pitched, like this was a ridiculous emotion, like he should have known better. That was the thing about hindsight, Max supposed. “I thought ‘I could have had that’, but I’ve never had that. Still never had that.” (Read on AO3.)

written for the @f1-fic-secret-santa fic exchange for @olympialogy, merry christmas!

[rawrkittenpurr]

my contribution to @gabicoday2026 is an outsider pov from max who has to suffer through his friends having a very slow realization for over a year (just like us). thank you for organizing this, i can't wait to see what everyone's come up with!

Push The Button here on AO3.

Over the months, Gabi and Nico sail right past awkward, sparkly sexual tension and somehow end up squarely in close, casual intimacy. They share scooters and water bottles and sweaters and inside jokes and touches, and are inseparable for most of the race weekends.

[rawrkittenpurr]

i wanted to get this beta'd first, but in honour of nico's first podium today, i thought it deserved to be posted.

Here (In Your Arms) here on AO3.

“Just here. Inside. With you.” A hint of hesitation tinged Gabi’s voice, like he was holding back, not wanting to accidentally reveal too much, tiredness wearing his filters thin. They weren’t properly hugging anymore, but were still sitting close enough that their arms touched, and Gabi was staring off into the distance, eyes focused on nothing in particular.