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#formula 1 rpf
lemonadedino · 1 day
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running home (to your sweet nothings)
2.1K words - fluff, light angst, mutual pining, idiots in love, love confessions + all that other good stuff
A short little fic about D1 men's volleyball player Lando and student librarian Oscar at Stanford being hopelessly in love, ft. a young Matthew McConaughey look-alike and chicken sandwiches at the dining hall.
Snippet below the cut!
But the worst part is that the stranger is so clearly interested in Oscar.
Everything about his body language screams "Hello! Please rail me and then I’ll take you to a really nice dinner afterwards at a place where the prices aren’t printed on the menu and maybe you’d like to start a family as well while we’re at it? They will all take after me and be very posh and look like they have a stick up their ass."
That bothers Lando a little bit. Because yesterday, Lando finally realized that he’s in love with Oscar.
Which is why he's standing here now, bouquet in hand, confession on the tip of his tongue.
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jusst-you-race · 8 hours
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some thoughts about f1 volleyball au
setter lando being constantly underestimated because he comes across as unserious, until the moment the whistle blows and he slips into this state of intense concentration… always able to read people whether it’s the other team or his own… making friends with everyone because he’s so good at being what they need (it’s his strength and his weakness)
libero oscar being the steady stable presence to keep the team on track, unflappable and collected and just always always always digging the ball… driving opposing teams insane because they just cannot get the ball to hit the floor… the stability lando needs to try ridiculous sets and plays
oscar being the constant that lando needs to finally just be himself… oscar always having landos back… lando showing off with setters dumps just to make oscar roll his eyes fondly…
their team is sick of them
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papayabrain · 14 hours
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Me waiting for AO3 to go back up like:
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Feel free to drop into the box box and ask some questions 🧡
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wisteriagoesvroom · 2 months
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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”
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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.
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kiwisa · 1 year
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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.
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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
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⤷ 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.
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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 !!!!
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rebsinthevoid · 9 days
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Seb's Nintendo DS Lite - 2011
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Seb's Nintendo DS Lite - 2024
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landoom · 2 months
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F1 FANFICS REC LIST - Kid Fic (no Mpreg)
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(Am I Ready) To Be Loved? (25098 words) by Roger_That_Sarge Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Lando Norris/Daniel Ricciardo Summary: Daniel thinks his new teammate hates him, but what he doesn't realise is that Lando has a reason for never staying late at the facorty or going for drinks with him. He just never expected that reason to be a tiny, sassy, three year old daughter who could light up a room. Lando thinks it hilarious that Daniel believed he hated him, but when he starts to spend more time with him, he wonders if he's ready to let someone else into his and his daughters life after all this time.
oOoOoOo
Where you go, I go (5457 words) by landoscar Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Summary: “Talia, sweetheart, you’ve got to come with me to work, okay?” Lando’s voice held a gentle tone as he reached up, sweeping her hair away from her face. “Why I go to daddy’s work?” Talia mumbled, her words slightly hindered by the bright pink dummy in her mouth. “Because daddy has to work! Auntie Ria can’t play with you today, so we’re going to go play at work!” Lando gave her a radiant smile, to which she returned instantly. “Take your dummy out, sweetie.” Talia popped the dummy out of her mouth with enthusiasm. “Is papa racing?” Her eyes lit up with joy. “I wanna watch papa race!” OR In which, Lando and Oscar are the fathers to a little girl named Talia Piastri-Norris.
oOoOoOo
love you with the lights on (28507 words) by nyoomfruits Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Summary: “I texted him,” Lando says. “He can’t have forgotten about me, I texted him, and he never texted back.” Max shrugs. “Maybe he didn’t know what to say. After all, how do you tell your fuck buddy that you’ve accidentally gone out and acquired a baby?”
oOoOoOo
I feel everything tonight with you (6358 words) by sadcornyfuck Rating: Explicit Relationships: Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr Summary: “So, she says something about a Spanish Stallion. You would like to ride one, yes?” ~ Carlos and Lando meet in a supermarket, Lando's kid is there to be the only wingman he'll ever need.
oOoOoOo
summer sun after the rain (11769 words) by gentleau Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen Summary: “Papà? Is Max your friend?” “He used to be.”
oOoOoOo
you and me till the end of time (28293 words) by alltimecharlo Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Alexander Albon/George Russell Summary: The one where George has a four-year-old daughter and Alex is her preschool teacher.
oOoOoOo
you'll be alright (19269 words) by nyoomfruits Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen Summary: Charles is not an idiot. He knows there’s a part of him that has been at least a little bit in love with Max for as long as they’ve known each other. But he’s always been able to shove it down. Burying it under rivalries and competitiveness until it was getting hard to differentiate between love and hate. And that had worked, for a really long time. And then Max had to go and barge into his life and be really fucking cute with his baby.
oOoOoOo
don’t want you to be a stranger ( i just wanna call you my own. ) (9007 words) by leclerclovebot Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr Summary: “I don’t know why I’m panicking,” Lando says, throwing his hands up into the air. Carlos just laughs, tossing his head back onto the couch. He’s tan—well, tanner than usual. The time spent in the Austin and Maranello sun has done him well…Not that Lando normally thinks about Carlos’ tan level.  “I do not know why either. We are going to be fine, why would they say anything bad about Finch?”  And Carlos has a point.  Finch is a golden child. He is clingy and he is attentive. He never strays five feet from Lando unless he has to, like at school or when he’s sleeping.  or, the five times that carlos and lando co-parented on accident, and the one time they finally realized.
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lovelylotusf1 · 2 months
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The Wall by me
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earl-grey-teacake · 3 months
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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.
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maaxverstappen · 8 days
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help me hold onto you | T | 2/?
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
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albertparks · 6 months
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39k, maxiel | canon divergence, 2024 formula 1 season, another red bull redemption story, intense character study
playlist
——
“I am afraid of the person I will become,” Max admits, voice so fragile that even a gust of wind could shatter it to pieces, “if I am losing to you.”
Daniel doesn’t know what to say. His instincts are screaming at him, I’ve been losing to you my entire life! but he can’t say that to him, he can’t rip Max apart like that and then try and stitch him back together, that’s not fair on either of them.
So Daniel pulls him closer again and this time, he presses the softest kiss to his forehead. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he says, but it’s forced out, the syllables slinking past his teeth, chipping them. 
The sentiment is sweet. Daniel knows neither of them believe it.
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valyrfia · 1 month
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did you see that max followed a charles fan account on twitter??? do you think he knows about lestappen 😍🤭
Anon, I'm sure you didn't mean any harm with this ask but the day that I have confirmation that Max, Charles, or anyone who knows them personally might have an inkling about the full extent of Lestappen as a popular ship, I am putting this blog on absolute lockdown and quite possibly deleting it.
To answer your question fully, I'm sure their social media managers know they're popular as a pairing in general, so by extension I would be shocked if Charles and Max didn't know that their interactions get engagement, for some reason. Charles, at least, is chronically on twitter, and I'm starting to suspect Max is somewhat similar no matter what he says (he can quote too many memes off the top of his head). But let's take Max following a stan account (probably by accident) as a warning. If you are on a social media platform that a driver is on, do NOT talk about Lestappen in any sort of serious capacity, and for the love of god don't even mention RPF or ao3. The drivers lurk, they see all, so don't post anything you wouldn't be comfortable with them possibly seeing. There's a reason why tumblr is historically the safest space to talk about and interact with RPF. Please let's keep it here, trust me when I say that all of this is really NOT enjoyable if the people you're talking and writing silly little stories about know of your existence.
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nottonyharrison · 3 months
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Full Circle
Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen | E | 3700 words
It keeps happening. He keeps letting it happen. Max should be out there living it up, doing what most people do after a long term relationship implodes. You know, screwing around a lot, having a bit of fun. Not giving his sort-of-not-really teammate blowjobs as practice for the hypothetical dude he might want to one day hook up with.
Read on Ao3
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wisteriagoesvroom · 4 months
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all you bitches put reckless driver by lizzy mcalpine on your lestappen playlists… and all you bitches would be right
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kiwisa · 1 year
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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.
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✩ “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.
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