maybe something sweet with gewis? a moment outside of view of the cameras?
Okay.. I see sweet with Gewis. You get George being upset power hour and Lewis here to save the day. Also they're cooking! Cuz I felt like it. Yeah 2026 mentions GR63 fans, god speed. (Also plz dont take Kimi mentions as Kimi Hate, hes legit my fav driver)
Brew Me A Cure (Can It Be You?)
Gewis - 1300 words - 4463 - SFW - Read After Cut
George isn’t exactly enjoying his 2026 season. That much is certain. Getting fucked over by your team just not setting up your car right isn’t fun, and neither is your significantly younger teammate leading the championship. So much for all the promises of it finally being his turn. It’s really just ridiculous.
He has weeks to burn until Canada, so George had a very simple plan really. Stay home and sulk for as long as he could get away with, and then get back to work. His typical way of things. He doesn’t actually like complaining all the time, but sometimes it’s the only cure for his very loud head.
That’s what he was doing at the moment, sulking. He felt guilty about it. Laying with his face smushed into the pillows of his couch; he’s not even bothering to go through his emails in his laziness, nor is he post workout. He’s just splayed out on the soft fabric, and doing nothing. He’ll pay back the time later. A few extra reps in the gym, or maybe he’ll agree to more press than he really wants to do. He’ll pay it back, things are about balance.
It’s the sudden loud knocking on his door that isn’t balanced. In fact, it startles George so bad that he sends himself straight off the couch and into the rug with an undignified yelp. He rights himself quickly, rubbing his nose that was impacted by the faceplant. He didn’t invite anyone over. He wasn’t exactly taking visitors. Maybe Alex? No, Alex would text and ask first.
George eventually drags himself to the door, and a glance in the mirror he keeps beside the entry makes him incredibly aware of how he looks. His hair’s a mess, unshowered and ungroomed. That’s not to mention his wrinkled clothes, pale complexion, and the bags under his eyes. He likes to think he’s pretty on a good day, and right now he certainly isn’t. It does not make him want to open the door further.
The knocking is incessant though, so George shoves the door open and pulls together all his PR trained skill to get ready to tell this person to, politely, bugger off. Except the person on the other side of the door is Lewis. Put together and smiling on George’s doorstep. He’s holding a grocery sack, for some reason, and when he sees George his eyes do something that gives the impression of pity. “Hey mate, thought I could swing by and we’d make some lunch together,” Lewis informs the taller man. “You doing alright?”
“Yeah.. yeah fine. My kitchen’s not really set up for company right now..” George mumbles.
“Ah who cares! We’ve seen each other after Singapore afterall,” Lewis shrugs. George can’t really stop the man from barging in. Before George even starts to protest Lewis is down the hall and turning on the kitchen lights. “Just some stew! I learned this amazing potato recipe. It looks amazing on the website so we just have to try it. I checked with your trainer-”
“You called my trainer?” George questions, following tiredly into the kitchen, Lewis doesn’t even take note.
“-And it’s 100% diet approved! So we’re in for a good one, where are your pots?” Lewis’s smile is blindingly bright when he whips around to face George again. Pure and sweet and blindingly bright.
George is ashamed of how long he thinks about that. He doesn’t cook as much as he should. “The uh.. The cabinet under the stove. Wait, when did I agree to this? Lewis?”
“Lew..”
“Make yourself useful, come cut up these carrots.”
With that, George really has no choice but to listen. He gets his act together and marches right over. He really doesn’t understand what they’re doing, or why, but he does as told. Cuts the carrots Lewis peels into nice little coins. The satisfying, repetitive thunk of the knife against the cutting board is soothing. Relaxes the rabid prey animal that George’s mind seems to turn into on days like this.
It’s just frustrating. Of course it’s Lewis doing this. Lewis whose team built a car that starts right. Lewis who left George behind. Lewis who’s so understanding and kind. Who just left. Like nothing. Because maybe that’s what George is. Look at him, driving the rocket ship the world is jealous of and he’s here whining.
“George?” Lewis’ voice– surprisingly close– drags George out of his own head. He finds his hands shaking and Lewis pressed up behind him to take hold and prevent George from accidentally hurting himself. “You alright, darling?”
“No.” It comes out before George can stop it. “No..! I’m not.. And it sucks. Because everything’s supposed to be great!”
The tears are hot and feel sticky on George’s face. No, that’s not right. He’s not supposed to cry about it. Whining is unbecoming of him. He makes some frustrated noise and Lewis just wraps him up tighter in a hug, vegetables momentarily forgotten.
“Why don’t you sit down for a bit. Have a cry, I’ll handle lunch.” Lewis hums against George’s neck, still a constant pressure against his back. “I’m here for you George.”
No you’re not. Is what George wants to say. He wants to scream and cry because Lewis left him behind and he wants him back. “I’m fine.” He tries to choke out instead, but Lewis just gracefully maneuvers them both and deposits George on a stool of the island. He doesn’t stop crying, just sits there with his shoulders hunched and shaking. Lewis keeps a hand on George whenever possible as he cooks. Making himself close and present.
George loses track of time, all he knows is that he feels wrung out by the time there's a bowl in front of him and Lewis is sitting beside him.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Lewis asks gently, brushing a foot to George’s shin.
“Not particularly,” George grips, biting into his food to try and avoid words. Lewis was right, it tastes good.
“Helps to talk.” Lewis tries to insist, but George isn’t having any of it.
George really doesn’t mean to snap, but the words leave his mouth without going through the usual filter thanks to his tiredness. “To you? News Flash, you’re on the wrong team for that.”
Lewis is quiet for a while, before he carefully moves. Reaching a hand to gently thumb away the tears gathering in the corner of those pretty blue eyes. “Oh George… you don’t think that. I didn’t want to leave you, you know this.”
“Yeah? Well now I’m in the stupid good car for once! And you’re still catching me! And now Kimi’s here.. And I just wish it was you! I wish it was easier! Why’s it always on me now?” George cries, leaning into that warm palm like it’s the only thing keeping him the same.
“Because you can handle it now,” Lewis hums, “You are brilliant and I won’t hear anything to the contrary. You’ll figure it out, so don’t go beating yourself up.”
George sniffles, blinking at Lewis. “Doesn’t bring you back.”
“Oh but I never left, darling. I’m right down the road. I’m in the paddock every time. You know I’m here, sometimes you’ve got to help yourself. I’m here to catch you, but you’ve got to be willing to fall.”
George can’t help but laugh miserably at that, moving his chair so he can tuck into Lewis’s side. It’s warm, and comforting. They don’t talk for a bit, but Lewis brings spoonfuls of the stew to George’s mouth and gives him room to process it all.
It’s nice, George could get used to this. Having somebody hold him together for a little bit.
“... you’ll be there to catch me?”
“Always, sweetheart, always.”
A/N: Yeah I needed to write a little bite of angst. Lewis will always have his boys back. This seems to be a recurring theme with my Gewis work. Dw! I have something brewing for them... Send me more asks!!!!!!!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Lewis makes his way into the Mercedes motorhome. He walks with purpose, yet he half expects someone to stop him. The few people he meets let him pass by without a challenge, several even avert their eyes. He walks to the back of the motorhome, where one of the bigger meeting rooms awaits him in a corner. Out of the way so no one accidentally stumbles upon it. Toto’s favourite place for crisis meetings. Lewis half hopes, he got it wrong. That no one will have called an early emergency meeting.
When he pushes into the room, the conversation in it halts. Toto stands at the front. He freezes for a moment before his eyes pin Lewis in the doorframe. Toto rarely looks his age, this morning every single year is visible on his face. Lewis eyes flicker over the room, notes the missing faces.
~~~
The article dropped in an Italian news outlet. From there it spread like wild fire, fans jumping on it to speculate. Too many people around Lewis had sent it to him. He woke up to too many messages, to too many questions and speculations. He had retraced it all back to the original source, read the article through a his browser’s translation tool. After he had tried to call George twice in a row. He hadn’t picked up, so Lewis dressed in a rush to get to the paddock.
~~~
“Come to confess?” The accusation misses a true edge. They all know if Lewis was to blame he would hardly show up like this. That the more likely culprit comes from within. Lewis lets his gaze sweep demonstratively over the room, lingering on the empty seats, noting the missing side of the garage. Even Bono is missing.
“I know how to keep to a NDA. Looks like some of your people don’t.” Lewis doesn’t lessen the sting from his own words. The anger that has been carrying him here. His eyes fall on George’s stiff back as he closes the door behind him. Takes a step to the side to lean against the wall as he crosses his arm in front of his chest. He feigns relaxation as if he’s just there as an uninvolved observer. His eyes linger on George, whose eyes keep flickering to Lewis before falling back on the table in front of him. Aleix, Marcus and Katsu are sitting around him, the lines of their backs defensive. The sides have been drawn, Lewis knows on which one he falls. The question remains where the rest of Mercedes will.
My Blueberry story has recently received a makeover, and I've decided to republish it entirely on AO3. Here's the link, and happy reading to all who click. 🫐🩵
[ Bad luck or bad faith, George still don’t know how to called his miserable life. Suffering from a memory loss is not what George would have expected after waking up in a stranger house nor the fact that the wolf of the Hamilton Pack were in danger because of him… ]
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
The ‘on-and-off’ men. The toxic ones. The ban-list, as his friends had lovingly christened it, was a direct result of the Great Dating Purge of the previous year. George had looked at the string of emotionally stunted, commitment-phobic Alphas he’d been wasting his time on and felt a profound sense of exhaustion. He’d deleted the apps, scrubbed his contacts, and declared a sabbatical from romance. His friends, Alex chief among them, had rallied around him like a protective detail, vetting any potential suitor with the rigor of MI5. It had been peaceful. Safe.
And then, three weeks ago, a name had flashed on his phone screen.
He had blocked him. He was almost certain he had. But in the chaotic, hormone-fueled purge of a heartbroken Omega, had his finger slipped? Had some part of him, some secret, hopeful part, deliberately left that one door ajar?
Chapter 1: The Rise and Fall of the Great Dating Purge
“Hm. You know what I think?”
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
“I think you’re up to something,” he leans forward, his eyes narrowing playfully. “You’ve got that look. The one you get when you’re about to do something you know you shouldn’t. It’s a very specific shade of ‘I’m-being-very-good’ that screams the exact opposite.”
