#formula 1 RPF

[landoom]

AO3 Stats - Number of F1 fanfics through the years

I did this little graph after a discussion on the Golden Boots Boy Discord and I thought some of you might find it interesting!

[landofest2024]

LANDO'S BOYFRIENDS BUFFET - FANFICS ARE DUE TODAY!

That's it!! It's time to set up the Buffet before we can taste all the delicacies you've prepared!!

Your fics should be submitted to the collection today!

The fics will be revealed on the 5th May

If you need a little bit more time, it will still be possible to post your fic between the 27th April and the 4th May! If it's still not enough for you, just reach out by DM and we will see what we can do!

[doomedmoth]

Better kind of best friend

Pairing : Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux x Charles Leclerc | Poly & bisexual fem!reader

Warnings : slight emotional cheating, obsessive/possessive/manipulative behavior, suggestive content/smut, fluff then angst then dark fluff, inaccurate racing calendar and school programs, polyamory, use of y/n

Synopsis : When you left the UK for a year long art restoration program in Monaco, you mainly wanted to make some friends. What you didn’t expect was to find your best friend on the first day. And then fall in love with her. And then get tangled in the web of Monaco high society as her boyfriend came back to town, unaware of your little affairs. What the fuck happened to you, you just wanted to make some friends…

Moth’s prophecy💡: Hi frieeeends, sorry for any mistakes, I haven’t written more than blurbs in a while. The poly, Charles, dark parts and smut will happen in the next chapters, I intend on making three of them. The first is mostly gay panic and tooth rotting fluff, so enjoy before it all goes to shit !!

As you stepped outside of Nice’s airport, you felt like you were finally breathing. The weather wasn’t particularly gloomy when you had left London, but nothing compared to the Mediterranean sun and the breeze of the sea. It had always had an inexplicable calming effect on you, now only interrupted by an old French woman throwing what sounded like insults at you as she moved past you towards the parking lot. The sea, you had missed. French people, not so much.

As you embarked on your second journey of buses and trains to your final destination, you took the time of going once more over the details of what would be your schedule those next few months. After getting your degree in Conservation and Restoration of Cultural Heritage, your parents thought it would only do you good to go practice on the field before even thinking of applying to any museum in the UK. You had gone on vacation on the French south coast a few times with them, and in a surprising but welcome turn of events, the Pavillon Bosio, Monaco’s art school, was organizing an internship welcome to all students of arts degrees in Europe. For your parents, a precious opportunity to add an experience to your CV in a prestigious setting. For you, the occasion to enjoy the beach and make friends in an artist residency after five years of hard work at university. Win-win.

The sun was setting on the hills when you finally settled into your room at the residency. Located close to the school, in the high parts of Monaco, the house was old but gorgeous, with pale pink walls and palm trees everywhere in the garden. Ivy leaves were growing at your window, which gave you a view of the port lighting up in the evening. Three floors high, there were a total of 8 bedrooms, all to be occupied by students of the Bosio program. The two remaining were, according to the brief, residents of Monaco.

You threw yourself on the bed with a sigh, your suitcases not even opened yet. The birds were singing softly and your eyes started to flutter in rhythm with them. If you did not make a move, you would be fast asleep, you thought. Yet it seemed like such an effort…

“Ciaoooo !” You sat straight up from the fluffy bed, meeting a pair of green eyes in the opening of the door “Oh scusa, ti ho svegliato ?”

The girl had gorgeous ginger hair, though likely unnatural, flowing down to her waist, and a mischievous smile. She seemed a bit younger than you, and kept staring back at you until you shook your head and answered.

“Sorry ! Um, English is okay ? For you ? No parlo…” was it even parlo ? You were trying to get your point across, hoping she would forgive your mistakes. “No parlo Italiano ?”

“Aaaah yeah yeah sure !” She chuckled, her accent even richer in English. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up ? I just arrived, it seems like we’re the only ones there…”

“No, no don’t worry, I was just resting my eyes. I did not check the other rooms, are we really ?” She nodded, pouting and crossing her arms. She probably expected a big welcome party. “I’m Y/N.”

“Chiara ! Let’s go have a drink when you’ve unpacked !”

You smiled as the girl waved and trotted downstairs. She was right, unpacking right now would probably be a good idea.

“Cazzo, la mia testa…” Chiara groaned while walking down the stairs from her bedroom to the shared kitchen.

Definitely, you had been right to not follow her in town the day before the start of “classes”. The bottle of wine you downed together in under half an hour had been enough, and when she had left to go explore the nearest bars, you had opted for a swift retreat into your room.

This coincided with the arrival of two other students, with whom you spent the rest of the evening making small talk. Apparently another one had arrived in the night.

The Italian boy you hadn’t met was immediately assaulted by Chiara, who seemed to know him. And it also seemed the feeling wasn’t mutual. You understood almost nothing of their exchange, but it made you and your new roommates laugh quite a lot.

The rest of the morning passed slowly, your shared breakfast only interrupted by Chiara’s flow of anecdotes, and a few exchanges about where each one of you was coming from and what studies you did before. One of the girls you had met the night before was going through the rule book of the residency, staring out loud the facts she found relevant.

It’s only around twelve, as you were all getting ready to head to the school for your first meeting, that the three last students arrived to the house. A few pleasantries were exchanged, a promise of a good meal together tonight to meet properly, and you all left the residency, following happily the little path from the garden up the hills.

The Pavillon Bosio looked more like a huge villa than a school, hidden between the trees. With its cute red roof and stunning view of the sea, you were all in awe as you entered through the gates.

“Bonjour, bonjour tout le monde ! This way please, for the restoration workshop right ? This way, come !” An old bearded man with a thick French accent welcomed you all, guiding you through the corridors of the school.

You settled in a small classroom, tables filled with paper cups, coffee dispensers and pastries. The old man introduced himself as the head of the program, and encouraged you to have a drink and get to know each other while waiting for the last two students. You couldn’t help but notice that some things never change, it’s always the one who live the closest who are the latest.

But you had barely any time to put down your bags and take a coffee before laughter was heard in the hallway, two voices clearly making their way towards you. And as they entered the room, your head started spinning.

There they were, the two monegasques, the last missing pieces of your eclectic little group of students. The man was quite elegant, dressed all in black in spite of the warm temperature, and body dripping with gold jewelry. But the girl, oh the girl… With long straight chestnut hair, and eyes of an even darker shade of brown, she was holding on to her friend’s arms with a delicacy only found in children who grew up bathed in the finest luxuries. She was wearing a white summer dress that did nothing to hide the shape of her body, and accentuated her sun-kissed skin. Everyone turned to them as they entered the room, but it seemed to you her eyes were only on you. The thought that you would have been the first to catch her attention made you blush, and you went on to hide your embarrassment in your cup of coffee.

“Alexandra, Luca, bienvenue ! Toujours un plaisir de vous revoir !” The old man, whose name you had learnt was Jean-Paul, went on to shake the hands of the two students, who he seemed to know already. “Je vous en prie, installez vous, prenez un café !”

The man, Luca if you understood correctly, stayed by the teacher’s side, engaging in a conversation punctuated by loads of “Oh !” and “Ah”, but the girl made her way to you with a determination that made you want to hide under the table.

She lost no time serving herself a cup of coffee and a pastry, and turned to you with a smile brighter than the summer sun. As she put her hand on your shoulder, leaning in to lay a kiss on each of your cheeks, you felt as if all the air had been sucked from your body.

“Alexandra, nice to meet you !”

And just like that, your whole world had turned upside down.

In the days that followed that meeting, all the little group of students started to get along pretty well, getting to know each other from their studies to the role they would play in your year-long project, while also sharing personal anecdotes at night, under the trees of the residency’s garden.

But the bond you felt with Alexandra, that was something else. It was as if you two had known each other forever, everything flowed smoothly, and your passions were either shared by the girl, or met with genuine curiosity and interest. Not even two weeks had passed and you already had little habits, inside jokes and plans for the rest of the year.

In the first stage of the program, the work was mainly research and preparation of the artworks, which meant that except for the mandatory seminars and meetings here and there, you were free to schedule your work time and partners as you pleased. This led to Alexandra coming to the house every morning, having breakfast with you, and going to the school together, or settling in your bedroom with your computers and working, or at least trying, together. If you gave yourself free time, she would take you to museums, or restaurants she enjoyed, or just lying down in parks as she tried to teach you some French. She was kind and patient, and in a desperate wish to get her to like you, you tried to be the best student, reading diligently every book she recommended you.

You quickly realized that although she was a true social butterfly, the whole group of students enjoying having her around, she was much more comfortable when you were just the two of you. She would often suggest you sneak off from team activities, wanting to share the secrets of the city she grew up in only with you. And there was no way you would complain about that. By the end of September, you deeply felt like you had found the best of best friends.

You didn’t know how it got so bad so quickly. No, actually, you did. Alexandra was the worst kind of best friend for someone as prone as you to catch feelings. You had always been quite close physically with your friends, hugging and holding hands were essentials for you to express your affection, but you also knew how weak you could be to pet names and fluttering eyelashes, and with each day that passed, she was making it harder for you to only see her as a friend.

You knew she was aware of her beauty and of how everyone seemed to gravitate towards her, but how could she not realize that the amount of affection she gave you was on the borderline of what would be considered “normal” for a girl friendship ? How could she so casually play with your hair, nails softly digging into your scalp as she lulled you to sleep, your head on her legs in your bed ? How could she lack all sense of modesty, casually undressing in front of you when preparing for a party, and expecting you to help her choose a dress as if you weren’t face to face with her lacy underwear and model body.

You truly despised yourself for ruining such a pure friendship with those thoughts, and desperately tried to remember to not break her trust by being not better than those “nice guys” you had so often dealt with yourself. But what you thought could be a simple physical attraction, something that would pass with a few drinks and the arms of an unknown frenchie, turned into a feeling that burned your insides and made your heart ache a little bit more everyday.

You had so often longed for a soft love, someone who would accept and care for you with the same warmth as you would for them. Friends, good friends, you always had many. Deep friendship, much less so. But the bond you had with Alexandra, you had never experienced it before. You were starting to think that if you had ever felt love before, it had been nothing more than a crush in comparison to this.

You tried to be a good friend. Controlling your breathing when she touched you. Inviting others to your gatherings when you felt you might confess after one too many drinks. Trying not to read too much into her actions, but damn it, she really seemed to be like this only with you.

In the end, what lost you were the pet names. One in particular, she would always throw carelessly as if the word didn’t roll on her lips, sweet like honey.

“Coucou mon chou !”

Waving at you and jumping in your arms, she would repeat the pet name again and again just to see you blush, and who were you to deny her… At first you did not know the meaning of it, and thinking of it, maybe you should have never asked.

It was the middle of October, and you were working with her and Chiara in the school, getting started on repairing some of the minor artworks that were entrusted to you. Well, more like you and Chiara were working, and Alexandra was tagging along out of boredom. With her degree in Art History, her role in the workshop wasn’t as much on the artworks than on their exposition. Which mostly meant your ginger friend was peeling little gold leaves while listening to EDM so loud you could still shake your head in rhythm through her headphones, and Alexandra was glued to you, even in the most uncomfortable of positions.

She had started working on little braids in your hair when, once again, the pet name was used.

“Mon chou, d’you have any hair ties ?”

“What does it mean ?” You asked as plainly as possible, while giving her the hair tie on your wrist.

“What does what mean ?”

“Mon chou. I guess that’s a nickname but you haven’t taught me what it means.” Something good, you hoped. Something sweet.

“No way you don’t know what’s a chou ?!” She grabbed you by the shoulders and you had to follow her movement swiftly in order to not ruin your work “Un chou ? Like… un chou à la crème ?” You nodded no, a bit shameful. You should have looked it up yourself. “It’s a pastry, dear. Something delicious, very airy, the best are filled with cream ? My favorite.” She planted a kiss on your cheek, and you thought, honest to god, that you could die happy on the spot. “Just like you.”

If only this had stopped there. But the next day, when she came to the residency, she snuck the breakfast directly into your room. You had barely woken up when she sat on the side of your bed, seemingly quite excited. She made you sit up and pushed some strands of hair behind your ears before placing the small pastry box on your knees.

“What is this Alex…?” You groaned while pushing back the curtains with one hand, rubbing your eyes with the other.

“Des choux !” She was grinning from ear to ear, and did not give you much more time to comprehend before opening the box. In it, a myriad of little golden cream puffs were staring back at you. “Des choux pour mon chou !” She giggled at her joke and you could not help but laugh too, for the gift was both actually funny, and sweet. “You gotta taste !”

You agreed, but she seemed to have something else in mind as she took one between her slender fingers and brought it up to your mouth. Surely she would not…? And surely she did. Taking advantage of your stupid lack of reaction time, she softly pushed the pastry between your lips, not enough to make you gag on it, yet you could still feel her digit rubbing your bottom lip before making an exit, leaving you dumbfounded and mouth full of the soft cream. Oh yes, you were definitely fucked.

October came to an end, the heavy temperatures and lazy afternoons on the beach leaving place to walks in the old town, cuddled together under one huge scarf. But the evening breeze did nothing to appease the fire in your heart, nor did it slow the speed at which your feelings for Alexandra deepened every day. If not too long ago, you wished for your friendship to stay as pure as the summer sky, now you only longed to confess, lay your heart out before her as a sacrifice, telling her to eat it raw, and the whole of you with it. It was a mixture of love, devotion and desire so strong, she could have asked you to worship her and you would have built a cathedral in her honor.

But you were oh so afraid of ruining everything. If she didn’t return your feelings, that was one thing. But what if she hated you for it ? You could not bear the thought of being apart from her, especially knowing you would still have to work with her for the rest of the year. You would rather eat your feelings than let it happen.

You were still pondering what it could mean for you both when you arrived at her apartment, in the very center of Monaco. You had been there quite a few times, even more recently, to work, to crash after evenings out, or just to have sleepovers, like tonight. It was very well located, and filled with expensive and tasteful furniture, but you did not really like it.

She had explained to you that she did her studies in Paris, and her parents still lived in Monaco. She would also often hang out at friends’ places, in and out of Monaco, and even spend weekends outside of the country quite frequently, with friends as well. The apartment was mostly a safety net, an investment, but you could feel nothing of her in it. It was barely decorated, a bit more those last few weeks now that you two were constantly buying stupid trinkets in token of your friendship, but you did not see her in it.

Yet, as she opened the door and took you instantly in her arms, whispering in your ear, home is the only word that came to your mind.

“Bonsoir mon petit chou”

“Bonsoir louloute” you answered sheepishly with your shitty accent, greeting her with the pet name she had taught you, one her friend Luca often used. It did not mean anything, just sounded cute.

She giggled, taking your hand and leading you inside. Very quickly, through music, wine and hair curlers, the mood for the evening was set. The alcohol made you speak more freely, and hopefully, it would help Alexandra too. Even though she said you knew things about her that nobody else did, there were still many subjects where you could feel her hesitation to delve in. It’s okay, with time, she would trust you about those too, you were sure of it.

She was babbling on about some friends’ drama while sitting on the edge of the window, when you took in the sight in front of you. She had taken off her hair curlers, and put on a satin robe that was slowly falling down her shoulder. The show of lights behind her, flickering between the moon and the glow of the city’s street lamps, made her features stand out even more. Her hair looked so shiny, her skin so soft, and the sparkle in her eye… Nothing she said really mattered, yet you could listen to her for hours and hours, as long as she kept blessing you with this sight.

You must have stared too intensely or for too long, because she came down from her seat and knelt on the floor, right in front of you, softly cupping your cheek with her hand.

“Ça va mon chou ?” Her brows furrowed, and she brought her other hand to your forehead. “You okay ?”

Her hot breath, inches away from your face. Her perfume, tickling your nose, you could almost see it dripping from her neck. Her fingers, drawing small figures on your cheeks. And her lips… there she was, so close, almost face to face, you had dreamt of this so often, and only now you realized how pink her lips were.

Maybe it was the amount of wine, maybe the temperature in her living room, but everything started spinning, and before you knew it, you had closed the gap and crashed your lips against hers. One hand on her small waist, the other in her hair, the kiss was messy, sticky like honey, you wanted to bite and barely restrained yourself. You felt like your heart was about to explode when she moaned into your mouth, and you were pretty sure you felt it drop when she pulled away.

For what felt like an eternity, you stayed silent, panting, eyes locked, air heavy with the realization of what had just happened. She blushed, and you started smiling, before she spoke in a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N… I’m sorry I…. I have a boyfriend…”

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

[wisteriagoesvroom]

getting a headache again because someone on twitter said (paraphrased) “my theory about lestappen so far is that max understands charles’s frustrations, and max knows charles is a better driver than his car allows him to be capable of. he is a special driver like me. that’s why we walk together”

and? the sheer poetry of someone knowing you deeply, intimately… yes, possible through the science, the data of race stats or car performance or analytics, but through all of it, it also amounts to them saying this:

I see you, I know you, you are my shadow. We push each other, and it is the closest thing to completion I might find on the track because you are my equal. This is a dance with only us in it. So take my hand.

[kiwisa]

never say never ✩ ln04

Lando Norris x Fem! Leclerc! Reader

IN WHICH... you should never say never, especially to your sister who does what she wants.

user1 the leclerc genes have been blessed by the hand of god there are no other explanations

user2 such a fashion icon

user3 how come y/n is the youngest leclerc and yet she looks just as old as charles wtf

⤷ user4 for real lol i always forget she's younger than arthur

⤷ COMMENTS

Anonymous That's the biggest leap I've ever read. It's not because two people attend the same event that they are dating. I hate scoop-hungry websites like you.

Anonymous There are no photos of them together, though? Monaco is like 2km square, of course people are going to cross paths with each other, especially rich people.

Anonymous So, following your logic, since my crush and I attend the same class every day, we are dating too? Fucking awesome.

user1 they are so cute 🥹 and lando is so dead 🥹

user2 omgggg i knew it !!!!!!

danielricciardo oh boy

user3 y/n lives to infuriate her brothers (especially charles) and i respect that

⤷ user4 she is the moment

user5 not only did lando choose to date a driver's sister, he also chose the only girl on the grid with 3 BROTHERS and that's fucking hilarious to me

user6 so lando and max were talking about y/n that's adorable

landonorris i love you ❤️

⤷ charles_leclerc run before i run you over

⤷ yourusername with what? your new vespa?

⤷ yourusername i love you too mon coeur ❤️

lorenzotl Answer your phone, Y/N.

arthur_leclerc ...

charles_leclerc you're so dead

user7 i bet the "private event" was just a way to hide a date

⤷ yourusername 🤫

user8 this is more entertaining than a marvel movie damn

pascale.leclerc.355 Vous êtes très mignons tous les deux. 😘 Quand est-ce qu'il passe à la maison ? 😊

⤷ charles_leclerc maman !!!!

[maaxverstappen]

help me hold onto you | T | 4/12

f1driver!max and streamer!charles

The man– Charles, Max assumes– sounds French. He loves that. He should be used to a French accent, he was forced to converse with Pierre often enough, but it sounds different coming from Charles. More melodic. Almost similar to someone he used to know once. “And that made me think,” Charles says, voice bellowing from Max’s speakers. “That it was stupid that we didn't have carrots before. Like, come on, it's a farming game.” Max has no fucking idea what the hell he is on about.

or: Max is lonely and finds Charles streaming on Twitch.

based on this prompt sent to @f1prompts

[existence-is-overrated]

…

[lovelylotusf1]

The Wall by me

[leversainz]

i am a sick individual and i do not want to talk about this image (i do)

[oscarpiastriwdc]

is that a model penal code in your pocket?

oscar piastri/carlos sainz jr | e | wip | ch 1/?

“You are always arguing with me about everything, needing to have the last word. You probably did this on purpose,” Carlos yells.

“On purpose?" Oscar throws his hands up. "Are you insane? It was an accident!”

Carlos’s glare narrows. “I do not believe you.”

carcar law school au

[landoom]

F1 FANFICS REC LIST - Magical Realism

you don't have to know that it's haunted (8373 words) by mintchocolatechip97 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen Summary: At twenty-six, Charles is a witch, and a son, and a racecar driver. He’s learnt what magic can’t save him from, and when it soothes. He likes to think he has it all under control. But the most dangerous thing a witch can do is want. And Charles’s longings outnumber the fish of the Mediterranean Sea. Charles is a witch. Max finds out.

oOoOoOo

wilde (12801 words) by debrief Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Summary: “I’m not sure how aware you are, but people online have started speculating about Oscar since last weekend,” Linda’s static voice comes through. Lando swivels around on his heel. “About Oscar being a merman? What? How—” “No,” Linda says, measured. “They’re speculating that he’s your wag.” A pause. “What’s a wag?” Oscar asks.

oOoOoOo

he may be your dog but he's wearing my collar (3611 words) by glasscushion Rating: Explicit Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Summary: “I'll be two minutes, and then we can try and get that stupid collar off you.” Lando’s bottom lip drops and his face glazes over. “Huh?” His tongue slips out, fat and wet, and traces the edge of his front teeth. “The trophy. That's what it looks like, isn't it? A collar.” Oscar mimes hooking a finger inside a shirt collar and gags. “All tight like that, on your throat.” "Ha." It's not a laugh, just an open-mouthed noise. “Yeah. Suppose so.”

oOoOoOo

roll two ones on the dice (4190 words) by anderstorpgrandprix Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Summary: “There we go,” Oscar mumbles, and the belt unravels from Lando’s wrist. Lando rubs his skin, looks at the faint red mark around it. Oscar starts to work on the knot around the bedpost and asks, “Do I wanna know why you’re tied up?” “So I wouldn’t go anywhere. Sleepwalk or teleport or whatever.” “Right,” Oscar huffs. “And now I’m here instead.”

oOoOoOo

no proof, not much (but you saw enough) (3494 words) by ipleadbritney Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Summary: A soul bond is like any other type of magic; you can buy it in a bottle. Or, to be more precise, you can manufacture it. Oscar and Lando are accused of having an illegal soul bond.

oOoOoOo

from the ashes (phoenix rising) (8996 words) by 14CookiesGone Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Summary: Oscar’s gotten used to the dull ache between his shoulder blades. His wings, which were not yet fully feathered when he stepped into his role as test and reserve driver at Alpine, have always carried an additional weight than they probably should. They’re also dull - a murky yellow and burnt orange combination that makes him look like the back end of forgotten autumn. A forgotten talent, perhaps. OR Oscar's wings begin to change during the 2023 season, and he does his best to figure out why.

oOoOoOo

Needs Improvement (7104 words) by peachbellini Rating: Explicit Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Summary: Will you shut up? Oscar thinks, trying to remember where his bite point is, Lando’s voice ringing in his ears. He doesn’t want to say it out loud, be rude to him on the radio for the world to hear, but this is just silly. Distracting. I can’t drive with you shouting like that. You’re not going to disappoint anyone. The lights start to count up Wait Lando sounds confused. How can you hear what I’m thinking?

oOoOoOo

sju sorters blommor (5940 words) by anderstorpgrandprix Rating: Mature Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Summary: “You should’ve heard Kim’s scream,” Oscar continues. He gestures down at his sneakers, then, at the purple stains covering almost the entire left shoe. “And I spilled smoothie all over myself.” “M’sorry,” Lando says. He doesn’t mean to, really, but it rushes out of him. He’s embarrassed, and tired, and sick of it, so his normally subpar brain-to-mouth filter is down for the count. Oscar huffs. “Why are you sorry? It’s not like you—oh. Oh no. Oh no.” Lando feels himself flush. He’s warm all over, skin prickling, and it doesn’t help that Oscar is suddenly bending over in laughter, slapping his thigh like this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to him. “It’s not funny.” Oscar keeps laughing, hands on his knees to support the way his body convulses. It's a bit over the top, Lando thinks. “You caused an earthquake!”

oOoOoOo

fluorescent (kid, adult and everything in between) (10515 words) by AnItalianFrie Rating: Not Rated Relationships: Alexander Albon/George Russell Summary: When George is five, he falls while playing in the garden of his house. His mum finds him there, crying on the ground and hugging his scrapped left knee, his face red, ugly snot dripping down his nose, and his skin glowing. or George is in love with Alex. He also glows. He tries to cope with both.

MASTERPOST

[earl-grey-teacake]

Obsessed with the idea that George, who has always had Alex by his side at almost every moment, is traumatized when Alex is not with him anymore in 2021. He is so used to the sun being in the sky, he does not know how to process that it is gone.

When Alex comes back, George is ecstatic but the idea that Alex could disappear in an instant haunts him daily. He becomes clingier, more possessive, and jealous of others being around Alex because what if they take him away.

I sort of want to write this.

[doomedmoth]

Not fast, just furious

Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Warnings : use of y/n, smau, unhinged behavior, alcohol and cigarettes consumption, kys joke, suggestive texts, chaotic fluff, grumpy x sunshine, lando getting bullied

Synopsis : During his winter break in Australia, Daniel meets a barmaid with a big heart and a bigger mouth. When she starts following him during the races, fans are a bit unsure of how to deal with her unhinged behavior and total lack of media training. Daniel loves it.

Moth’s prophecy💡: Hi friends ! Pls be kind, it’s my first attempt at a smau and I’m on mobile, so the formatting might be weird. Also sorry if your name is Malva, it was the first one that came to mind lol.

[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername Walking in the club like we regulars

Liked by yourbff, melbournemirage and others

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yourbff leaving the club like an overworked mom

Liked by yourusername

melbournemirage our favorite employee 🤩

Liked by yourusername

yourusername wouldn’t mind a raise then 🤪

user1 gorggggg

yourbrother stop drinking on the job bitch

yourusername get a job before judging me bitch

*****

[Twitter] f1.driv.updates just posted

*****

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

[Instagram] daniel3.jpg has added a story

*****

[Messages] Daniel has sent you a text

*****

[Instagram] wagupdates just posted a photo

wagupdates New wag alert ?? Daniel Ricciardo has now been seen a few times with an unknown woman around Melbourne and Perth during his winter break. At first thought to be a childhood friend, sources say they met at the bar where the young woman is working, and they have been getting quite cozy 👀 What do you think ??? 📸 via Australian celebrity press

view all comments

danyfanclub she looks cuuuute

user1 anyone got her @ ???

user2 apparently he been hanging out at melbournemirage so maybe she works there ???

malva she looks messsyyyy, doubt it’s gonna last till the season starts…

danyfanclub stay mad

*****

[Instagram] daniel3.jpg just posted a photo

daniel3.jpg Aussie adventures before going back to vroom vroom

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maxverstappen1 honey come home the kids miss you

Liked by daniel3.jpg

user1 what camera do you use ???

wagupdates do we spy the new girl on the 4th and 7th slide ??? 👀

user2 THANK YOU I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE

user3 sneakyyy

danyfanclub can’t wait to see her in the paddock ‼️

landojpg we missed you at karting mate 🥺

daniel3.jpg sorry, too busy drinking cocktails 🤪

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[Messages] Your coworker has sent you a text in Charlie’s Angels

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[Instagram] melbournemirage just posted a photo

melbournemirage Today we mourn the loss of our best bartender, yourusername . She had been with us for a little over a year now, and was the light of Melbourne Mirage, our pride and joy. She always won employee of the month, and not just because she created and awarded the title herself. A gathering in her memory will be held tonight at 9pm, everyone who knew and loved her is free to attend 💔

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yourbff LMAOOOOO

yourusername WHY THE FUCK DO YOU MAKE IT SOUND LIKE I’M DEAD I JUST QUITTED ???

melbournemirage sometimes we can still hear her voice… 💔

daniel3.jpg don’t worry I’ll take good care of her 😇

yourcoworker you better 🔪

user4 DANIEL ???

danyfanclub finally we have the @ !!!

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[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

[Instagram] daniel3.jpg has added a story

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[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername last month stuff

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yourbff damn girl, money suits you well 😍

yourusername right ???

malva wow, gold digger much…

danielricciardo thank you for getting Max to fly us around babe 🥰

maxverstappen1 as if I was not offering after every race…

landonorris why don’t you offer me after every race ???

maxverstappen1 you can walk

landonorris TO SILVERSTONE ???

user1 from barmaid to wag, girl is living the dream life

user2 smoking is not cool girl…

yourusername minding your own fckn business is tho

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[Twitter] paddockwags just posted

[Twitter] yourusername just posted

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[Messages] my sun 🌞 has sent you a text

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[Instagram] daniel3.jpg just posted a photo

daniel3.jpg Sorry my cat bites, I found her in the streets. She’s a good girl irl.

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yourusername don’t reveal my secrets 🙄 (love you)

daniel3.jpg the world has to know ❤️‍🔥 (love you more)

lilymhe I can confirm the good girl part

yourusername I’ll be the best for you 🥵

alex_albon HM EXCUSE ME ???

danyfanclub ppl love to hate on her because she’s not trained like a nepo baby but honestly relatable queen !!

user1 boy is simping so hard

user2 she looks so fun to be around, finally a wag that doesn’t look fake

malva yeah she definitely got the street cat look…

user3 OMG GET A FUCKING LIFE GIRL

danyfanclub being this salty won’t make him like you go get a grip

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[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user1 replied to your story :

Did you and Daniel break up ???

malva replied to your story :

fucking finally, so looooong

danielricciardo replied to your story :

have fuuuun, I’ll call you when my plane lands 🐶

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[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername Back where everything started. I know I sound like a bitch sometimes, but to my love, my sun, my pup, I am so glad I met you 6 months ago. You turned my life around and I can’t wait for more shenanigans with you. You make any place feel like home. I love you. To everyone else, especially those who thought we broke up because I had the audacity to go home two days before him : Fuck you all ❤️

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melbournemirage we were so happy to have you back, even for just a night ! Soon a #speeddating night at the Melbourne Mirage everyone ? 👀

Liked by yourusername

yourusername stop promoting yourself on my account

maxverstappen1 glad to have met you this year bro

yourusername #mates4life

user1 I didn’t know they were so close !!

danielricciardo my love ❤️‍🔥

yourusername my sun 🌞

user2 highway looking pretty good for a nap rn

user3 goooosh they are so cute I’m gonna kms

danyfanclub FROM THE MAIN ACCOUNT TOO ‼️

malva still not buying it

This user has been blocked

yourbrother you did not have to come back so soon

yourusername jeez 🤡 at least pretend to be happy for the gifts you little shit

yourbrother thx I guess

yourusername you’re adopted

landonorris can you bring me back some Tim Tam ? 🥺

danielricciardo no ❤️

yourbff no ❤️

yourusername no and kys ❤️

landonorris damn 🥺

[wisteriagoesvroom]

all you bitches put reckless driver by lizzy mcalpine on your lestappen playlists… and all you bitches would be right

[kiwisa]

name(s) of love ✩ cl16

Charles Leclerc x Fem! Girlfriend! Reader

fluff • smut(ish) • 1,500 words

IN WHICH... love takes on many forms and many names.

✩ “MON AMOUR…” in everyday life.

“Can you pass me the salt, mon amour?”

With one hand, the other stirring the sauce, Charles vaguely pointed to the location of the saltshaker, which you hastened to hand over. He murmured a distracted “thank you” and seasoned the meat before turning down the heat and covering the pan with the lid next to it.

You watched in silence as his shoulders tensed with every movement, the muscles of his arms drawn deliciously against his shirt. A strand of hair bounced on his forehead at each movement, wet from the steam of the pots on the hob. A scrunchie, one of yours, was pulling back his hair ⏤ which had been falling in front of his eyes ever since he began his task ⏤ into a ridiculously little ponytail.

After giving the sauce a final stir to let it reduce, Charles wiped his hands on his white “kiss the cook” apron ⏤ a gift you were very proud of.

“I love to watch you cook,” you said as you approached.

You let your hands graze his arms up to his shoulders and placed them on either side of his neck. It was impossible to resist the urge to kiss it. You pecked at every bit of skin, stopping at a few tender spots that your nights with him had revealed.

“Yeah?” he pulled you to him, careful not to bring you too close to the fire, and leaned his head back to give you more room. His hands gently tickled your ribs before moving down and squeezing your ass. He left them there, chastely, happy to receive so much attention.

“Hmm,” you nodded, far too busy loving on him to give him a real answer.

“I think you're far more interested in the food than me, mon amour.”

Oh, you'd devour him over any meal in this world.

✩ “MON COEUR…” when he’s tired.

“Mon coeur, come to bed,” Charles whined.

“One more chapter, honey, and I'm yours.”

Your eyes were beginning to burn, assaulted by the artificial light of the table lamp next to the couch. The dark night had long since darkened the sky. Despite the pain, the letters that ⏤ little by little ⏤ were becoming blurry, the sentences that only made sense if you read them twice, you couldn't bring yourself to close the book. You had started it three days ago, and as the last chapters were drawing nearer and nearer, you couldn't go to sleep without knowing the end of the story, without knowing if the protagonist would survive.

You knew it had been a trying day for Charles, as media day usually was: one interview after another, this time for magazines, and the many videos he had to shoot for various YouTube channels had dealt the final blow to his energy.

“You said that six chapters ago.”

A grimace pulled at your face. You immediately felt terrible, even more so when you saw him, at the entrance to the corridor, wrapped up in the quilt, his eyes reddened by fatigue, his hair in all directions. A painting as touching as heart-breaking. They were overworking him.

“Mon coeur, please,” he tried again.

His shiny green eyes were enough to make you give in. Morning and evening, he rejuvenated before your eyes when, around him, the arms of Morpheus imprisoned him. How could you resist his face?

Gently, you folded the corner of your page before placing the book on the coffee table. You couldn't take three steps before Charles wrapped you in the duvet, holding you tightly against him. Your eyes were blocked by the quilt and by his chest, so you did not see the dark look he gave your book, as if it was responsible for all his misfortunes.

He guided you to the bedroom like this, never letting go of you except to close the door. You could not hide your smile at his cuteness, which he took as mocking.

“Stop making fun of me.”

“I didn't say anything.”

He pushed you down on the bed, watching your body bounce on the mattress before dropping onto you. The weight of his body cut off your breathing for a moment but you said nothing, understanding what Charles was craving.

Contact.

His head nestled against your breasts; his eyelids closed at once. Your skin against his, he could forget the worries of the day. He could suddenly breathe with your heartbeat giving the tempo for his to follow. Your fingers slipping into his hair, smoothing them, anything to soothe him.

There was no sound to disturb this tender moment, except your breathing and perhaps ⏤ sometimes ⏤ the sound of a kiss dropped on his forehead.

You continued until his weight became heavier, a sign that he had fallen asleep.

“Goodnight, honey,” you murmured.

Very quietly, so as not to wake him, you picked up your phone. Immediately lowering the brightness, you clicked on the orange icon on your iPhone and, remembering the little number at the top right of the page, resumed reading your book, having bought it digitally.

As pretty as this boy was, you were not going to sleep without knowing the end.

✩ “MON ANGE…” when he’s sad.

Each sniffle broke your heart a little more, as your neck collected tear after tear. You tightened your grip on Charles's trembling body, trying to protect him from this world and its horrors. Seeing this joyous man who shared your life being tarnished by others drove you into a deep rage, one you kept secret.

It could wait.

The love of your life could not.

“It's going to be okay.”

You weren't sure. How could you control people's actions, their disrespect, and the power that anonymity gave them? Words hurt, even written on a phone screen.

Charles had walked in your Monte-Carlo flat in tears, after what should have been a fun night out with his mates. It had been hard to make out his words, cut off by heart-breaking sobs, but you got the gist of it: by showing a funny tweet about him, one of his friends had unintentionally confronted Charles with the hatred of bitter people who couldn't bear to see others succeed. His appearance, his behaviour, his driving. Everything had been a subject to criticize, but it was the third point that had been the coup de grâce; especially after the disappointing new car testing.

All it had taken was one comment to shatter into a million pieces what you had tried to keep intact.

“Mon ange, I–”

“It's okay,” you repeated, trying to convince him, and maybe you as well. “You don't have to talk if you don't want to.”

So, he didn't. You stood there, hugging in the middle of the living room, a few steps from the door that hid him from all his worries.

“I love you, mon ange,” he finally whispered.

“I love you too, my talented, beautiful, kind boyfriend.”

He managed to give you a shaky smile, which, if it bore the mark of deep sadness, reassured you somewhat. You stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently, as if to affirm your compliments, to anchor them on his mouth so that he, in turn, could believe them, say them.

It would take a little time to piece him back together, but you were nothing if not stubborn.

✩ “BÉBÉ…” when he’s in the mood.

“Bébé?”

Silence.

Charles straightened up a little more, his back against the headboard. He didn't take his eyes off your body, which was facing the opposite way. The moon had long since cast its bluish halo over the bed and was now illuminating your naked curves, which the white sheet did nothing to hide.

“Bébé?”

His fingertips brushed your knee, moved gently up your thighs – his pinkie sliding inwards more than necessary – and up your lower abdomen to your chest. Charles watched with delight as your body shivered at his touch, his heart beating furiously in his chest, temple, and crotch.

“Bébé?”

This time he shook you without delicacy, abruptly waking you from your deep sleep. You didn't like this one bit. Roughly pulling the quilt up to your neck, you buried yourself in it, ignoring the complaints of the man beside you. The masterpiece that was your body, now stolen from his dilated eyes.

Unacceptable, he thought.

His hand came to rest on your waist, squeezing it.

“What?” you asked aggressively, ready to sleep after an already eventful night. This man had far too much stamina for you. The still regular shaking of your legs was proof of that.

“I'm horny,” he whined.

“You're a fucking animal, Leclerc. That’s what you are.”

Your words may have had bite, but your thighs were already spreading for him to fit between them. Damn him and his stupidly beautiful, flushed face, and pouted lips.

Fucker.

[37sommz]

✼. THRU SPACE 'N TIME | MLIST.

f1 grid x female!driver!oc . . . a series following aston martin driver michaela sommers' journey through the checkered motorsports world.

general warnings.⠀⠀⸻⠀⠀rewriting of history, discussions of racism, sexism, misogyny, infidelity, discrimination, and other mature themes. all pieces will be individually tagged. chapters sorted in chronological order.

MEET MICHAELA SOMMERS⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

✼.⠀michaela's driver profile. ✼.⠀social media profiles. ✼.⠀meet the team. ✼.⠀grid dynamics. ✼.⠀veteran dynamics.

WRITING, HEADCANONS, REQUESTS⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

✼.⠀karting dayz: where, moments from michaela's karting days. ✼.⠀come to italy: where, prema saves michaela's career. ✼.⠀mother, may i: where, michaela misses australia. ✼.⠀victorious: where, michaela keeps winning.

THE WORLD WIDE HUB⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

✼.⠀michaela sommers signs as ferrari reserve driver (2018). ✼.⠀alfa romeo signs michaela sommers (2019). ✼.⠀f1 veterans voice their opinions (2019). ✼.⠀michaela sommers fires back at christian horner (2022).

TWITTER THUMBS⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

✼.⠀the greatest twitter hits.

EXTRAS⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

✼.⠀to be added.

✼. view:⠀navigation page⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.