#2012 f1

you could feel the vibrations in your teeth. sebastian came closer and put his hands on your pretty clothed tits. he palmed them heavily when no one was watching.

"there she is. our little reporter." he chuckled as his fingers teased your nipples and you bit back a loud moan. he was always so rough with you, his hard cock poked your lower back. you were certain if he fucked you over the hood of the car it would probably be less stimulating than what you were feeling at that moment.

you felt hot all over, wishing you could strip yourself of your clothes. but wouldn't the be a scandal? you'd be stripped of all of your media passes and your job. but, you were certain that the three men who had a grasp on you would love that. if you went from reporter to pet. instead of asking the questions, you'd be on your knees. hard to ask for anything with thick cock in your mouth.

"you look so good." he chuckled as he continued to grope you. you held onto his strong forearms and felt the heat thrum in your body. it almost took it all of you to not topple over.

"seb." you swallowed. the vibrations made you shudder."

"aw, don't get upset there, beautiful." he said as he yanked at your hard nipples, "if i let you off early, then the others will get mad. and you don't want to see jenson all mad, right?"

you didn't last long. you never did. that was what made you so popular, any stimulation left you feeling like a live wire. you continued to grip onto sebastian as the toy continued to feel alive inside of you.

you quickly came and you almost ended up bent over the car. your cheeks felt like they were stained pink as you used the car for leverage. your legs were trembling, but you kept yourself upright. sebastian groped your ass one last time before he said, "don't get too nosy, schatz." he ran his fingers through your hair.

"seb.. please."

you wanted that damn remote, you felt like they loss privileges to freely use you. but before you could collect yourself, sebastian was whistling to himself as he left the area. acting like he wasn't hard.

the toy died between your legs and you felt able to continue with your day. even if the sun on your back felt more oppressive. and your nipples were sore under your top from sebastian's abuse on them.

"someone looks a little red." you heard lewis said.

"oh you know, it's just the weather. plus the plane ride here was hell, so it's just so much." you smiled at him as if the steady weight of a vibrator wasn't between your legs not knowing who the remote was with.

but that wouldn't be a mystery for long.

the toy started and you could feel kimi's gaze on your back. you reached for lewis to steady yourself, but made it seem like it was simply a friendly pat on the back.

lewis could feel kimi's gaze too, and looked down at you. he held his smile as he said, "is everything alright, seriously?"

you nodded, even though your body was heated once more. even though the mess between your legs felt soaked. and the toy nudged against your g-spot and it made you unsteady once more. you found your words as you said, "oh yeah, just a little too much sun." then flashed him a smile before you could hear the heavy steps of kimi's stride and his hand on your lower back.

"lewis, what are you doing with our little reporter. she was work to do." and you felt yourself cling to kimi a little harder. your knees felt like jelly as you held onto him.

lewis looked at you then kimi, "kimi, i'd be careful about getting too close to a reporter. you don't want her writing a hit piece on you." he laughed. even though you were certain that you were playing it off cool, lewis knew that kimi had you wrapped around his fingers. he was curious about how he was making you tremble so beautifully.

"of course, lewis." he chuckled, "but i don't think that she's that much of a troublemaker. don't you think, lewis."

you tried to keep eye contact with lewis but held onto kimi while the toy rumbled in your soaked cunt. lewis laughed and slapped the other man on the shoulder. he knew something that up, he could see it in your glassy eyes.

lewis turned away to go back to what he was doing. and you were almost on your knees. if it weren't for kimi's support on you. he held to you tightly and watched you shiver. with his hand in his pocket and held onto the remote. he watched your movements.

"don't stray off too far." kimi said, "remember, you belong to us. you're ours. no need to get too involved with anyone else." his other hand reached for your ass and you felt like you could easily pass out from the heated lust in your brain.

damn sebastian, damn kimi and damn jenson.

his hand groped your ass while you clung to him tightly. and his praise filled your brain, "good girl. see. you can be good for us."

you nodded pathetically and kimi placed a hot kiss onto your lips. you then came once more, and you had to hold onto kimi for support. your nose into his chest as you tried to keep yourself upright as you felt the after shivers of orgasm. you almost cried and when you looked up at kimi you had a few stray tears in your eyes.

kimi wiped them away and licked his thumb to taste your tears. he chuckled, "aw, so lovely. you look pretty when you cry." then combed his fingers through your hair.

when kimi left, you realized that he still had the remote in his hand. and while he kept in on for a little while longer which made you cling to the edge of a wall to keep some form of balance before the toy came to a stop and you could get some relief.

you panted heavily and tried to compose yourself before you attempted to go back to work. but the vibrations continued, sporadically. it left you digging your nails into your palms as you tried to go about your day.

you tried to ask kimi for the remote, but he didn't have it. instead he ruffled your hair and told you that couldn't help you. and sebastian didn't have it. so that meant one thing, jenson had it.

"jenson." you said as you reached for him. your hands into his racing jacket anf your face up against it. you whimpered as the vibrator continued to buzz between your thighs. you were heated and panting, "take it out. please. i can't work like this."

jenson took you by the behind and rubbed his hard cock up against your front. you tried to squirm out of his grasp. you whimpered and put your face into his chest. the vibrators could be felt in the back of your throat.

"oh.. i don't want to. you're a lot better like this." he said as he held onto your hip, only adding to the bruises that the other men left on you. you were a free use slut for their liking, "i like you better this way, you get into less trouble."

"jenson." you panted quietly as he groped your soft hips. he loved the fat on them, you were just so soft under his touch. so easy to bruise. you trembled against him and whimpered a little louder then with the other men. everything felt on high alert in your body.

he loved this.

you came for a final time, and you ended up on your knees. your hands planted on the concrete floor and you looked up at jenson with big tears in your eyes.

"please, jenson... i can't take anymore." you said pathetically. and if jenson had more time, he couldn't bruised that pretty throat of yours. but that would have to wait till tonight.

"i can't do that. not when you're so pretty. especially on your knees." he tapped your chin and could see the lack of focus in your gaze. dumb little girl.

he chuckled and pushed the hair out of your face. the vibrations died down once more. he left you like the others did when they made you cum, you didn't even have the remote. and you needed to get somewhere to decompress yourself. you felt hot all over and your brain felt over stimulated. being free use between these men was a bad idea. but you loved it.

it was a sick little obsession that made you feel hot in all the best ways. to have you go about your day with the toy nudged into your sweet pussy.

you were seated, thankful that the toy was turned off now. you panted heavily off to the side and pushed your hair out of your eyes. your cunt still kept the toy snug inside of you. the weight of it was almost comforting, but at least it was nice to not have it constantly buzz inside of you.

"thank fuck." you said to yourself, but then lurched forward to hold onto your knees. your eyes squeezed shut and you clenched onto your knees. you let out a small moan, and when you opened your eyes and looked up. it wasn't kimi, it wasn't jenson, it wasn't even the devil sebastian.

it was lewis hamilton who smiled at you with the remote in hand. he slowly turned up the volume and you were practically trembling like a leaf. you swallowed and said, "please."

he tapped you on top of the head with the remote and chuckled, "oh, you didn't complain when the others used you. why start now? at least if you give me what i want. you can get yours soon after." then put the remote down to get his cock out of his pants.

2013- China, April

“I just don’t know Fernando, I’m not quite sure that Ferrari is right for me,” It seems not matter how much convincing and pleading he attempts, Mark isn’t seeming any more keen on switching to the scuderia then he had been at the beginning of the phone call when he’d rung his longtime friend, voicing concerns about the possibility of him changing teams.

“Give it a try Mark,” Mah-k , in all their years of friendship, one thing he picked up from him was the exact way the Australian pronounced his own name, the r translating to a h. Feh-nando , not fe-r-nando. 

The older man lets out a strangled sigh, slightly exasperated and seemingly at a loss for words. “I- I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” He admits, a quiet click of his tongue signalling the end of his sentence.

“Why not?” He can’t understand the resistance to at least try . Driving for Ferrari at a point during your career essentially cements your legacy in formula one. All the greats have done it- Schumacher, Villeneuve, Surtees, Ascari, Lauda- now himself. 

Mark should be added to that list. Webber should sit right after Alonso on the list.

“Because who’s to say I’ll do anything remotely remarkable at a new team? I could completely bomb out the second I step in the car. The devil I know is better than the devil I don’t,” Alonso didn’t realise when his friend had become this complete pessimist- the kind of guy who didn’t even consider trying. 

“That’s not a world champion’s mindset,” They both know he’s true. As a two time world champion himself, Fernando does have some kind of power over the other to say so- he knows first hand what it takes to be the best. “Red Bull isn’t doing you any favours, so really- how much worse could Ferrari possibly be?”

The Australian hasn’t had the best run being at Red Bull. To say he’d been bad would be an outrageous claim, and objectively untrue, but the Spaniard just knows he’s destined for better. He’s deserving of a world championship, and as long as he’s a second driver to vettel, he simply doesn’t have the car or the possibility to achieve one. 

“Seb is winning the championship currently, in a red bull- that’s gotta count for something,” Fernando rolls his eyes at the mention of the young german. If he’s the reason that Mark is so resistant to leave, Fernando would happily beat some wits into him, get him onto his side in convincing the Australian to leave the team that disregards him and treats him so poorly.

“And I’m second, what is your point?” Ah perfect, he’s got him there. When he doesn’t answer, he adds on, “Just, you’ll consider?” The question is met by a short exhale from Mark, shaking over the phone call. Picking at a piece of flint that’s attached itself to his fire engine red team polo, he patiently waits for Webber to cave and agree to it.

“Yes Nando,” His voice has a sense of faith and possible hope, “I’ll consider it for you,” It’s not a ‘ I’ll sign the contract now,’  

2013- Britain, June

WEBBER TAKES RAIKKONEN! From nowhere the Australian rips past the Finn, and is closing fast on Rosberg! Where did this pace come from? 

Fernando watches as Mark zips ahead in front, his pace looking outstanding from the glances he catches, trying to focus on his own face- aiming to secure another win for the season.

Rosberg has turned the speed on and posts a quicker lap than Webber in that one, and is 1.35 seconds clear of the Red Bull. Not far behind Alonso is all over Raikkonen's tail... AND HE MAKES A MOVE! 

Fernando catches Raikkonen at a vulnerable moment for the Finn, feeling no regret or empathy as he whips past him into third, trailing just behind Webber. 

1.2 seconds now between Rosberg and Webber - the German is doing enough, and will surely win the British Grand Prix now! 

The gap between him and the Australian is only getting tighter, the possibility of standing on the second step at the end of this becoming a more realistic and possible reality. For now though, he won’t allow himself to get distracted by dreaming of what he could do, he needs to focus on pushing.

Lewis Hamilton right in on Alonso as well - half a chance of a podium for Lewis despite that blowout which put him back in last place! 

Shit. Being too focused on the gap between him and Webber meant he’d lost all consideration about how closely the Mercedes of Lewis had been trailing on his heels, eager to snatch up a podium finish.

NICO ROSBERG WINS THE BRITISH GRAND PRIX! He crosses the line 0.7 seconds clear of Mark Webber, who has almost pulled off an amazing victory despite falling back to 15th after a catastrophic start to his race! 

First place is no longer an achievable spot, but just as Senna’s mantra went, ‘If you no longer go for a gap that exists, you are no longer a racing driver’, he won’t allow himself to slow down just because he won’t be top step when it’s time to receive a trophy. Second or third is always better than fourth. 

Webber second, Alonso third with Hamilton fourth despite the tyre blow-out which robbed him of first place early on. 

It’s done now at least. He may not be first, or even second, but he’s not in Hamilton’s spot either- a blown out wheel and the lost opportunity of a race win. He’s doing better than most, and he’s willing to take that.

He stands on the third step of the podium, Mark proudly standing tall to his left, waving his sweat soaked hat high above his head. He looks proud, a grin stretched across his mouth in a tired relief. He may have not gotten first place, but he sure as hell has enough pride in his expression to seem as if he did. 

Rosberg is equally as happy, an unbeatable look of elation staining his face. He pumps his hands up, showing off his golden trophy. One by one, they receive their bottles of champagne, ready to really start the celebration. 

The Spaniard and Australian coat each other in sticky bubbles, while the Finn focuses his onto the crowd in front of them, raining down on the Mercedes team in particular. Pressing the spout to his lips, Fernando takes a long mouthful- the sharp champagne filling his mouth and sliding down his throat. 

He makes eye contact with Mark as he does so, ‘We’ll be doing this every weekend if you make the move,’ . He reckons Mark picks up on that, but there’s an uneasy look in his eyes, withholding something from him.

When the fizz dissolves and all three men are left in sopping race suits, reeking of alcohol- it’s time for interviews. A man, wielding a microphone goes straight to Nico, interviewing him about ‘how his race had gone’, and if he thought he’d ‘win the race from the get go ,’. 

While the attention isn’t on them, rather solely focused on the blond man, Mark takes his opportunity to slip into place beside the Ferrari driver, dropping his voice a few octaves and tilting his head, putting them at near the same height. “I’m not going to Ferrari, Fernando,”

No. 

No. 

He’s not doing this right now. 

If this is true, he doesn’t get to say this in front of a crowd of thousands of fans.  

That’s not fucking fair. 

“Mark,” He hisses, drawing his eyes away from the crowd to look up for the slight difference they have between their height right now. His jaw goes lax, his lips parting in shock. 

“Nando,” He places his hand on the small of his back, his fingers nudging into where the suit awkwardly clings to his narrow waist. “I’m sorry,”

“Not now,” He looks away, his attention drawing to where Nico’s interview is drawing to a close, Mark will be the next to be talked to. “ Dios - why?” His throat is gluey, his accent strengthening despite how he often tried to dull it down to be easier understood.

“I couldn’t,” Mark ducks his head, shame flooding his face. Fernando doesn’t care, Webber doesn’t get to feel poorly about his decision. He’s the one who disobeyed his promise and broke trust. He’s to take responsibility for that.

2013- Germany, July

Tensions are still high between the two by the time the next grand prix approaches. Alonso avoids each attempt that Webber makes to reconcile their relationship- try to make some half arsed apology in which he’ll not even understand why Fernando is hurting like he is. He doesn’t understand how much the promise of teammates means to the Spaniard- he likely never would. 

2013- Italy, September

“By silverstone i'd concluded, it would be my last year with red bull and that'll be it. Fernando did all he could to change my mind but it was too late” The Spaniard feels like driving a screwdriver into his head upon hearing that over the radio, maybe step onto incoming traffic. There’s a strong urge to gouge his eyes out and then cut his ears off bubbling deep throughout his whole body. The want to go out in the most painful, gory ways.

Is it seemingly an intensely dramatised reaction to a seemingly harmless statement the senior pilot made? Not in the slightest. It’s not fucking fair, Mark doesn’t get to do this to him. The Australian had promised for years that they’d be teammates eventually- even if it took their whole careers to do so. 

Bringing him into the interview was beyond unfair. Clearly it had all just a joke to him, some easy fucking lie he could reassure Fernando with to get him to stop bothering him. 

It’s the first that the Ferrari driver is hearing of the official news, the final verdict that had been reached. Sure, Mark had told him back on the podium in Silverstone- but hearing it over national news, it just feels far more true and official. 

Up until this point, he’s allowed himself to view the possibility of the situation through rose-tinted glasses, a warm and hopeful feeling deep in his chest- the belief that he would one day be teammates with the man he considered his closest friend. Maybe Mark would change his mind, maybe he would decide at the last moment that Red Bull wasn’t for him.

Now that’s all being betrayed so he can stay driving an energy drink on wheels alongside some bratty german kid who barely looks old enough to be driving on the freeway.

Fuck you Sebastian Vettel.

Fuck you Red Bull.

Fuck you Mark Alan Webber. 

2013- Singapore, September

He ignores each call the Australian tempts him with, patiently outwaiting the five rings until he can return to the aching silence of his hotel room. It’s not fun, nor is it any what pleasant. Deep down, he wants to pick up, hear even just the careful and calculated breaths of the older man- give him a chance to explain.

But what if he doesn't like what he heard? What if Mark gave him all the reasons why they wouldn’t work as teammates and it was all the things that Fernando had spent so many years ignoring because he so desperately wanted it to be perfect- he was willing to make any sacrifices just to be alongside Mark in matching bright red race suits. 

So for now, he’ll just rot under the thin bleach-white sheets of his hotel bed, wishing for a different outcome to the ending he always secretly expected. 

He doesn’t have to see Mark on the podium this time. He’s on the second step this time, Raikonnen in third and the Australian’s younger teammate Sebastian took an easy lead the whole time- winning by almost a landslide. Fernando refuses eye contact with the German, the man who gets to take the place of being the teammate of Mark for another year, until he will retire.

It settles in his mind for the first time that the next time he’s in this exact spot, racing in Singapore, he will no longer be racing under the humid heat and bright city lights alongside his Australian friend. This was the final time the pair would ever race on the Marina Bay Track together.  

That’s a fate he’d rather not talk about.

2013- Brazil, November

In the five races after Singapore and before Brazil, Mark secures an impressive three final podiums for his last year in the sport. Alonso doesn’t. They don’t stand on the podium together past the british grand prix, and despite how betrayed he feels- it doesn’t mean that he wants Silverstone to be the last time they held those trophies above their heads together. 

His wish is finally granted in the concluding race of the season, Mark’s career too. With Sebastian winning the race, his teammate stands on the step below him, and Fernando on the final step. It’s just like Silverstone all over again. 

It’s the last dance for the two of them, a final chance for them to celebrate together- even when separated by Sebastian, and separated by rival teams.

It’s beyond impressive in his last races in formula 1 that he’d secured four podiums, but that was just Mark’s fashion. To go out with a bang.

2014- Abu Dhabi, November

After a whole year of stewing in slight hatred and missing of the aussie at ferrari- having Kimi Räikkönen as a teammate, who is significantly quieter and more serious then he was expecting out of his 2014 teammate- Fernando finally makes the difficult decision to change teams to McLaren.

He’ll race alongside Jenson Button, who he reckons will be a breath of fresh air- closer to Mark then the teammate he’s had this year. It had been an abysmal year for him too, only 2 podiums- China and Hungary. So he’s looking onto next year in a positive light, a new chapter of improvement for himself. 

2015/2016

Jenson is only his teammate for a single year of the 2015 season. For 2016, he has Stoffel Vandoorne alongside him at McLaren and they don’t get on too well. Fernando is clearly the favoured driver- Stoffel often being instructed to let the Spaniard past him. Regardless, they remain racing for the same team for the next three years. They’re a painful few years without a single podium, still chasing that high from Brazil- stood next to Mark. 

He’d had two since then, but they’d felt empty and meaningless to him, wishing he’d been dressed in red with Mark instead of Kimi. Being in orange doesn’t feel any better than that- especially without a single trophy to prove that maybe Ferrari also hadn’t been good for him.

2018, August

Fernando announces his retirement on twitter on august 14th. He posts a minute long video, thanking the sport in general and all his adoring fans over the years of his career. He does a bit near the end that showcases him in all his different team merchandise- Minardi, Renault, his first year long McLaren stint, again to Renault, Ferrari, and finally McLaren once again.

 It’s a moment that he thought he would be able to avoid for a few more years. He had faith he would win a third championship- hopefully at Ferrari too. But he looks around at the grid that surrounds him, all the new and fresh talent, and he feels a lack of belonging.

There’s supposedly going to be an eighteen year old replacing him at McLaren when he leaves, there’s already a twenty one year old in Max Verstappen, and a twenty year old Lance Stroll. He just feels old. 

Hamilton’s still there, so is Vettel, and a few other drivers from his prime time- but he can’t escape the feeling that his time has come, it’s time for new ventures. 

Maybe he’ll continue to race under different circumstances, maybe he’ll focus more time and energy into managing- maybe he’ll just leave racing to the past, and go on with the rest of his life without it.

2020, February

Mark and him speak for the first time in a while on the phone. Mark sounds well, his voice rougher with age if anything. They’d last spoken when Fernando had announced his retirement, and the Australian had showered him in congratulations and best wishes for his further ventures. They were now on the same boat, even if the events had occurred almost eight years apart.

Mark tells him that he’s just begun managing the FIA Formula 3 champion, a seventeen year old Australian called Oscar. According to the older Australian, Oscar was possibly the biggest Alonso fan growing up- had one of his karts and a race suit. It makes him smile that he’s inspired someone who was born after his career even began. 

Beyond that short call, the amount of times they talk on the phone increases as the pandemic regulations tighten, forcing everyone into home isolation. Hearing all about all these fantastic achievements Oscar is making, Fernando feels something he had lost back in 2018- the want and desire to race.