Prompt: while sitting together, the sender absently lifts the receiver’s hand, idly running their fingertips across the lines of their palms, mapping out every inch of their hand with slow touches.
Word Count: 0.6k (676 words)
Formula 1 Masterlist
Published: 27/10/2022
The floor of the garage wasn't the comfiest, but they couldn't stand to be walking around at this point in time. Thus, the underneath of the table against the wall opposite where Toto was sat in the garage was her next option.
The race had been red-flagged, and all the cars and drivers had been called back into the pits. They had stayed in their car originally as they came back, only to clamber out with shaking hands as the realisation of what had happened had set in.
They now knew he had gotten out, that he was safe and alive, but at that moment, they were scared.
It's not every day a bad crash happens in formula one. But it's highly likely that the driver isn't getting out of their car alive in that instance.
The safety under the table was interrupted when the sight of their boss appeared in front of them. The Austrian crouched down to be almost at eye level with the younger driver on his team.
"The race is continuing," he began to say before his head turned to look at something on his left, "Are you going to be okay to get back into the car?"
She deliberated it whilst looking at Toto, the team principal turned back to face her. Although it was thoughtful of him to ask, she knew she had no choice in the matter. She would have to climb back into that car and race unless something drastic happened to her. She had to go and defend her title as well. To win the championship for her and the team.
Nodding in response to Toto as she didn’t trust her voice yet, the almost 50-year-old patted her leg before pulling himself up and allowing the shadow that appeared next to him to draw closer. As she blinked back the tears that began to form, the shadow became a person she could make out. The familiar black fireproofs of her teammate appeared as the person crouched down to her level.
Lewis turned and slid under the table coming to a halt next to her, his leg resting against hers. His face mask covered his mouth so she couldn't see the soft smile he was aiming at her. He offered his hand to her, allowing her to choose to hold his or not. She grabbed it, holding on tight to it before squeezing it three times, the couple's way of telling each other they were okay and that they loved them.
Bringing his other hand to where hers was clasped in his, Lewis began to trace the outline of her hand, his fingers gliding over the back. Her head fell to his shoulder as she sighed contentedly and somewhat afraid.
"Are you going to be okay?" Lewis asked. It was quiet enough that she could just hear him above the sounds of the garage but not so the microphones accompanying the cameras could pick up on the words he said.
She looked up at him, wiping away the few tears that had fallen. Traitors, she thought before replying, "I should be."
She paused. Seeing his brow pinch and worry across his face she continued.
"Got to get back in the car and stop you from stealing my championship," she tried to joke hoping it worked to both convince him that she would be okay and convince herself that she would be fine.
Lewis turned the hand of hers he was holding, now beginning to trace the lines on the palm of her hand. The feeling of his fingers dragging softly began to soothe her, allowing her racing heart to finally slow. He leant down slightly placing a soft kiss on her head before reaching up and turning her head to look at him.
“You ready?” he asked, eyes full of concern for her. She nodded in return, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand before Lewis and then herself hauled themselves out from under the table and began to prepare for the race ahead of them
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Prompt: upon entering the same room as the receiver, the sender steps behind them, and winds their arms around the receiver’s waist, drawing them close against them.
Word Count: 0.7k (787 words)
Formula 1 Masterlist
Published: 22/08/2022
Media duties were never her favourite but she always made sure to attend. Her team was having issues with the car today which wasn't an uncommon thing, but she managed to push through and last the race even when her teammate had to retire.
Sebastian had finished talking to the reporters in the media pen and all he had left today was the team debrief. He had been around long enough to know what to say to the press and what they want to hear in certain cases. But, even though Britta had told him that he needed to head back to Ferrari's hospitality, he insisted on waiting for her.
He stood to the side of the pen, watching her move onto what he knew to be her last interview of the day. He looked at the reporter to see that it was Natalie Pinkham from sky sports. Whilst waiting for her, he recalled previous conversations where she had mentioned that she preferred being interviewed by Pinkham rather than some other individuals.
After seeing she was spending longer than she usually did answering the reporters' questions, Seb decided that he had had enough time away from her.
Walking up behind her, Sebastian wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him slightly before leaning forwards and propping his chin on her shoulder.
Her hands that were holding onto the barrier in front of her stopped her from falling back as she stopped mid-sentence to look over her shoulder at the person hugging her. She had presumed it was Seb as no one else would just randomly grab her and pull her into their arms, but seeing the side of his head reassured her that it was him.
She chuckled slightly before continuing with her answer to Natalie as the reporter made a teasing remark about her and the Ferrari driver before she let the two of them go.
She then turned in Seb's arms to face him, resting her hands on his shoulders as she looked at him.
"You're very clingy today," she remarked, gazing adorningly at him, "Any particular reason why?"
Seb hummed and shook his head in response, "Just missed you today. Still getting used to you not being in the same garage as me anymore."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead before untangling himself from her, slotting his hands into hers and guiding her out of the media pen and towards where the Ferrari and Renault garages were with Britta and his partners pr person trailing behind them.
"Do you have anything left to do?" he asked rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. He wanted nothing more than to get out of the debriefing this late afternoon and just stay with her, however, he knew that the chances of worming his way out of it were slim to none.
"Do you have anything left to do?" he asked rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. He wanted nothing more than to get out of the debriefing this late afternoon and just stay with her, however he knew that the chances of worming his way out of it were slim to none.
"Just a race debrief before the drivers meeting, to which you," she turned to face him and pointed a finger up at him teasingly, seeing him try not to smile, "are not getting out of. Or your team debrief."
She then looked over her shoulder at Britta, "Make sure he goes to them," she spoke before seeing her chuckle in response, the woman knowing what the two were like.
Coming to a halt outside the Renault building, she turned to face Sebastian. She reached up and pushed the Ferrari cap further up his head before placing a soft kiss on his lips.
She pulled away only for him to lean forward and kiss her, a hand coming up to the side of her next trying to deepen the kiss. She patted his chest causing him to break away before he opened his eyes and looked into hers.
"I'll see you later, okay?" she whispered pulling away from him, stepping back towards the door before turning to walk into the building.
A pair of arms grabbed her waist again and pulled her back flush against Sebastian's front again. Even though she needed to get to her meeting she couldn't help but smile.
"Seb," she drew out his name looking over her shoulder again.
"Liebe," he copied her tone looking down at her, "You didn't say it."
She shook her head before looking directly into his eyes, "I love you, Sebastian."
He grinned down at her replying with a, "I love you too, schatz," before letting her go.
Prompt: upon noticing a recent injury on the receiver’s person, the sender carefully moves closer, running a thumb (or hand) across the wound in a gentle, troubled manner.
Word Count: 0.6k (653)
Formula 1 Masterlist
Published: 22/06/2022
Walking out of the medical centre she was preparing herself for the flashes of cameras and the onslaught of questions from reporters upon her arrival in the media pen. Even being injured you still have to do media duties, she thought bitterly.
The race had long been over. Her teammate, and partner, finishing first had already been doused in sparkling wine since it had officially replaced the champagne the previous year. It still had the same effect, spurting out of the bottle and allowing the drivers to spray their fellow competitors as they basked in the glory of their win. But not her. Not today at least.
Driving in the rain was something she loved, something Christian praised her skills in. Her previous races in the risky weather conditions had landed her multiple podiums in her career. But with that weather always comes danger.
And today? Well, her luck had to run out eventually right?
So when she aquaplaned off the track and into the barrier whilst going at least 150mph, the only thing she could do was haul her aching body out of the car and let herself be guided towards the medical centre.
The questions from the news reporters were fired at her as soon as she stepped into the lion's den, the scrutiny she would be under was looming in the back of her mind as she answered their questions to the best of her abilities.
From then her mind was on autopilot as she walked through the Red Bull hospitality giving small smiles to the staff members and engineers still milling around. The white corridors blurred into one and it wasn't until someone wrapped their arms around her, causing her to let out a hiss in pain, that she realised she made it back to her driver's room.
"Fucking hell, Schatje," Max muttered gently releasing her from his hold, his hand coming up to cup the right side of her face, the other resting on her bicep. There was a haunted look in his eyes as he looked over her, checking for any visible injuries, "You scared me today."
She let out a chuckle at his words before cringing in pain, "I'm okay now. Just my ribs hurt and my body aches from, you know, going into a barrier."
Max nodded along with her before dragging his hand down her arm to the bottom of her jumper. His hand slipped underneath the Red Bull branded item but didn't move from where it settled.
He locked eyes with her, a silent exchange only the two would understand before he pushed the material and the top underneath it up in an attempt to see the invisible damage underneath. Yes, Max knew that he wouldn't be able to see it, but having visual confirmation of where she was physically injured helped him know that she was okay, the crash wasn't too bad. His hand gently grazed up her side before coming to her ribs, Max being careful not to put too much pressure on them as his fingers grazed her torso where most of the pressure was forced upon her body.
He let his hand fall from her side, her clothing dropping back down her body as he pulled her into him. His left hand on the back of her head, holding her as her head fell into the crook of his neck, his other arm wrapping carefully around her, gripping onto the fabric of her jumper.
She leant fully into his embrace, letting her exhausted body cling to his, her own hands clutching the back of his polo shirt, red bull of course. In her mind, she swears she's going to get him something else to wear other than their sort of uniform.
A shuddering breath escaped her as a few tears fell, the two of them just leaning into each other before someone would undoubtedly come and disturb this moment.
Prompt: after holding their hand, the sender releases the receiver, but slowly glides their hand up the full length of their arm, lingering on the upper arm, then the shoulder, then resting their touch against the side of their neck.
Word Count: 0.8k (830 words)
Formula 1 Masterlist
Published: 28/06/2022
The brightly lit room in the FIA building was unnerving.
Hospitals. Hospital lighting that glares down at you. That bright fluorescent light capable of haunting your dreams or of putting a wide-awake child to sleep within minutes. The horrible lighting of death. That was what the room reminded her of.
The eighteen drivers had piled their way into the room almost an hour ago now, the young Schumacher unable to attend after his crash and Sebastian Vettel had obtained Covid. Thankfully the younger German was fine and nothing worse had happened to him or else she didn’t know how she would cope.
The adrenaline junkie children had all come to the same conclusion within twenty minutes of them all discussing the topic at hand. None of them wanted to continue with the race here this weekend. Would they get listened to though? Fuck no.
The following hour passed slowly as she tried to keep herself occupied and not sink into the waves building up in her chest threatening to pull her under.
More people entered to room. Team principles. Bosses. Head of departments. FIA staff members.
Her eyes flittered around the room as she searched for faces she knew, the floor of the steps beneath her now feeling scratchy and course to the skin. Her body temperature began to rise, the red bull shirt feeling uncomfortable, the mask on her face too restricting. She clenched her fists, her bitten nails only providing pressure to the center of her palms rather than ripping open the flesh.
Everything was too much.
She didn’t want to be here.
She didn’t want to race this weekend.
It’s too hot.
There's too much.
She wants out.
There's too much in the room.
Mick’s not here.
Where's Max?
Why.
Why.
Just leave.
Her head dropped down as she wrapped her arms around her torso, her leg starting to bounce without her realising. She was crying. Why was she crying? No, stop crying.
She tried to control her breathing which only caused her to panic more.
Max had been deep in conversation with Charles and Lando as he took another sip of his Redbull. He was bored of waiting for this meeting to come to an end and all he wanted was to sleep in the surprisingly comfy hotel bed next to his partner ready for the race tomorrow.
He looked up and around the room to see where she was, or if she had moved from where they were sat before he'd been forcibly dragged away by the Monegasque lad. His eyes landed on her and upon switching his attention away from the conversation, slight panic filled him.
Max immediately made his way over to her, pushing past people in his way, not caring if he was being rude. It didn't matter to him at that moment and being honest, wouldn't matter to him later. All that did, was getting to her.
He crouched down in front of her, his right knee clicking in the process. That wasn't something he focused on, probably just a build-up of pressure from him being stood up to long. She was more important at this moment.
Not just this moment, every moment.
"Schatje," He began, attempting to get her attention without touching her, "It's me."
His eyebrows creased as he noticed her rapid breathing pace and the tears falling freely from her eyes, "Schatje, I need you to breathe with me okay?
"In," he spoke counting to four in his mind, "An out. Keep doing that for me, okay?"
He slowly reached a hand forward and gently placed it on hers, waiting for her to turn her own over to hold his before he made another move, all the while talking her through breathing. He knew what he was doing, how to help her. At the same time a part of him wished she didn't have to suffer through anxiety attacks, he was determined to learn every way to help her.
As time passed, her breathing evened out, and her hand which she ended up turning and clasping Max's with, loosened from the tight grip she enforced on it. Her mask was damp and stained with tears so she was now focused on changing it. It was better she drew her attention to that and Max, rather than the accumulation of stares the fellow drivers had on her. They just wanted to see if she was okay.
Max gently removed his hand from hers, causing her eyes to focus on his movements. His hand dragged up her forearm, his touch gentle as he reached her bicep, pausing to see if she was uncomfortable. Seeing her make no move to push him away, he continued his hand's movements, his hand coming to a stop against her neck.
Closing her eyes she leant forward and rested her forehead against his. No more words were spoken as they ignored everything happening around them. Just the two of them present in their little bubble.
Letter: B = Body art (Doodles that a person draws on themselves appear on their soulmate’s skin.)
Word Count: 455 words
Warnings: n/a
F1 Masterlist / Soulmate Shorts 2 Masterlist
Published: 16/10/2022
The air-conditioned room wasn't doing much to help with the sweltering heat. And being sat in a press conference for the next twenty minutes that remained, they couldn't wait to be able to get out of there.
"Now that Mercedes seem to be improving and getting podiums, do you think that they are now going to be contenders in the championship, and do you think that’s going to affect you?" the reporter asked aiming the question at them.
They looked over at their teammate for a second, pursing their lips before raising the microphone and looking back towards the reporter, "In a way I’m glad, because it just means they can steal more points of Ferrari and let myself and Verstappen cruise ahead and battle for points between us. But no, in all serious I don't think we'll really know until after the break, and if it heads that way, at least we have another team to fight against, albeit this one has better strategy."
A few chuckles are heard around the room at their final sentence being a light-hearted dig towards the Italian team who was still failing to recognise that it was their strategist’s fault, not their drivers.
Resting her hands back down in their lap they were waiting for the next question to be asked, this one being for each driver about what they were going to be doing in the summer break. After Lewis spoke first, it then moved onto them, them explaining they were going to visit their family first before moving on only for them to be interrupted by their teammate.
"There's something on your arm."
"What?" they asked Max confused not hearing him properly.
"Your arm," he repeated, pointing at it, "There’s something on it."
They looked down at their arms, only to sigh at the sight. There were some smiley faces dotted over them and a pickup line messily written on their forearm.
They moved on, continuing with what they were saying and apologising for the interruption, before finishing their answer, and letting Max speak.
Scanning the room, they were looking for their boyfriend, to see if he dared to show his face in the conference room. And low and behold, Lando was leaning against the back wall, a grin on his face.
They reached into their back pocket and pulled out a pen to write back on their arm. Of course, the day they don’t wear a hoodie or a long-sleeved top, Lando decides to doodle across his arm during a press conference of all things.
'I'm going to kill you Norris,' they wrote back trying to hold their smile back whilst shaking their head at him. He only smiled back in response, staring directly at them.
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Prompt: realising the receiver is about to leave the room, the sender hastily reaches out and catches their wrist, preventing them from continuing their departure.
Word Count: 0.3k (374 words)
Formula 1 Masterlist
Published: 08/09/2022
She clutched the bottle of sparkling wine tightly in her hands.
It was the same brand as the one sprayed on the podiums after a race which she had bought ready for her partner's first points. The brand name of Ferrari made her feel like a traitor seeing as they were her main rivals this year.
Her dark blue fireproofs were already soaked in the sparkling wine from her trip to the 2nd place podium earlier and were uncomfortably sticking to her, but she had made up her mind to change later. Her race suit was pulled up over her shoulders, rather than tied around her waist for once.
Coming round the back of the soon-to-be flat-packed buildings, she looked round the corner, trying to spot where her partner was standing. His back was to her, Mick had already changed out of his race suit into his branded team polo and jeans, whilst he was talking to a journalist in German.
She walked out from behind the building, beginning to shake the large bottle before stopping a few paces behind Mick and hitting it off the floor.
The cork went flying and Mick flinched at the sound and the feeling of the wine spraying along his back. He turned in shock, his shoulders hunching up at the coldness from the bottle, only for him to come face to face with his partner.
He attempted to flee from the spray, most of it being able to miss him, until he grabbed her by the waist and turned the bottle back onto her, coating them both in the wine as the bottle emptied.
Smiles coated both of their faces, as Mick pulled her into a hug. Her head fell into the crook of his neck as he pressed a kiss to her hair.
She pulled away from him, stepping back to let him continue with his interview only for Mick to reach out and grab her wrist, stopping her from leaving.
“Stay,” he spoke out, leading her towards where he stood before, taking her willingness to follow him as her agreement to stay. Pulling her into his side, he interlocked his fingers with hers, rubbing a thumb over the back of her hand.
Prompt: sender slowly reaches out to catch a loose strand of the receiver’s hair and tuck it gently and securely back behind their ear, letting their touch linger afterwards. (if the receiver has short hair, then the sender reaches out and gently runs their fingers through their hair to smooth it back.)
Word Count: 0.4k (473)
Formula 1 Masterlist
Published: 14/06/2022
The rain was pouring and Lando was snoring.
The afternoon was passing by slowly as the grey clouds continued to roll across the sky. They knew it was going to be a wet day, the two drivers having been informed about the treacherous conditions upon their arrival to the track that morning.
Her team had got her car prepped and after a wacky qualifying, she was starting from p7. However, after spending 30 minutes in the red bull garage where Max's dad had decided to make an appearance this weekend, she couldn't stand to listen to his remarks about his teammate (her) anymore.
Apparently, anything other than p2 wasn't good enough for her to be an okay teammate for Max Emillain Verstappen.
(Jos' words, not hers).
So that led her to running down the pit lane in her race suit and waterproof jacket towards the papaya building, her traitorous Aston Martin beanie, that she stole from Seb, on her head.
The McLaren staff and mechanics were welcoming towards her, mainly because they knew it was a way to get Lando to stop talking about her all the time. And the two of them were adorable together. Not that most of them would admit, except Charlotte and Daniel of course. Any opportunity to tease the brit he would take.
Lando and herself had situated themselves at the back of the garage, away from some of the prying eyes of the cameras which were interested in what the drivers were up to whilst everyone waited for the rain to pass.
In time, the conversation between the couple became hushed murmurs of one tiredly acknowledging the other and turned into the two of them basking in the presence of the other whilst watching the storm rage on outside.
His head came to rest on her shoulder as the weather began to worsen. His eyes closed as the pattering of rain droned on, his breathing evening out letting his conscience fade. Sleep welcomed him just as the cameras began to sweep through the garages once again.
She looked over at him after not hearing a response from her papaya clad partner only for her to realise that he had succumbed to his tiredness. Noticing a few strands of hair spilling out of his beanie and onto his face, she remarked how peaceful he looked. The pressure of the job can get to you at times so seeing him look so peaceful made her smile.
Reaching up she carefully brushed the strands to the side before tucking them back in his beanie. How Lando was able to look so hot and cute at the same time, she would never know. Maybe she would get him to teach her one day.
But for now, she closed her eyes resting her head against his and clasped his hand in hers.
Balin and the reader just being sort of found family feels. With: "You're plotting something." "What makes you say that?" "You're always plotting something."
