F1 omegaverse
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When Oscar arrived at his hotel room, a cardboard box was already sitting on the floor of his bed, overflowing with bags made of scent-locking plastic. Most of them were the same size, containing one hoodie—usually a team one, branded with the Williams or Mercedes or Aston Martin logo—or a few t-shirts. More than enough for the kinds of nests he made.
But one of the bags was so big, Oscar needed both arms to handle it. The label said it was from Lando.
Series
- Part 1 of F1 omegaverse
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The night he presented, Kimi curled up in bed and cried into his pillow, where no one could hear.
He had already disappointed his parents once that night. He couldn’t break their hearts too.
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- Part 2 of F1 omegaverse
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Max had always liked sweet scents.
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- Part 3 of F1 omegaverse
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“I missed you.”
“I’m right here.” His warm hand ran up and down Alex’s spine. “What do need from me?”
“Wish you were an omega.”
Series
- Part 4 of F1 omegaverse
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“Anything you want, you can have.”
Lance’s dad had only told him that once, after a bad karting race, but once was enough to do some real damage. The other kids had heard, and they sneered at him throughout the rest of his races, even as he beat them.
Spoiled brat, they said, just gets anything he wants.
Series
- Part 5 of F1 omegaverse
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Here Franco was, in the most luxurious metal tube of his life. Not only were the seats gloriously soft and the carpet plush underfoot, but the scent. Oh the scent. It was pure Lewis, all rich leather and patchouli like a fancy candle or the kind of spray that one would spritz liberally around a private jet. But it wasn’t from a candle or bottle because Franco knew exactly what Lewis smelled like, and it was this.
Series
- Part 6 of F1 omegaverse