#f1 drivers mafia

[changetyre]

Not like this II Charles Leclerc x Reader (Mafia AU)

SUMMARY: After losing everything you seek out your biggest and longest-standing enemy to finish it all.

WARNING: Violence, blood, mentions of death

A/N: I've always wanted to write a Mafia imagine and I've had this idea in the drafts for like 2 years now and finally decided to write it out so here it is ;)

Thud.

Charles's eyes snapped open at the loud noise originating from his living room. His hand immediately clasped the gun that rested under his pillow as he listened out for anything else.

The shuffling that followed was enough to have him getting out of bed silently as he made his way around his bedroom.

He could hear someone grunting. He opened his door, darkness enveloped the living room the only light being from the large windows which surrounded it.

"For fuck's sake." He heard someone whisper and he thought he recognized the voice but it simply couldn't be right?

He walked further into the living room, seeing someone's feet disappear behind the coffee table. He silently took more steps toward whoever was there.

"Before you kill me could you at least get me a drink? Anything with Whiskey will do." Charles heard as you spoke breathless from your spot on the floor.

He finally closed the distance standing by your feet in fact confirming it was you. His gun still pointed right at your head.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Charles asked annoyed.

"Ugh." you sighed. "Long story but your guards are really sh*t you know, killed them both in no time." You laughed, being stopped by a painful grunt.

Charles turned on the lamp on the table by the end of the couch providing enough light for him to see the trail of blood you'd left along with the pool of blood forming on his white carpet.

"You're ruining my carpet." Charles scoffed putting his gun away.

"Least I could do before letting you kill me." You shrugged, your breathing only getting heavier.

"What do you mean letting me kill you?" Charles asked as he moved away and around his apartment. You weren't able to see what he was doing from your spot on the floor where you'd decided to rest.

"We got attacked...idk who they are but- Fuck-" You grunted in pain again after moving slightly. "They are powerful Charles, they killed us ...every single one of us."

"Not you." Charles spoke from afar.

"Basically did." You laughed which you soon regretted with the pain it brought you. The gunshot to your stomach kept spurting blood despite you pressing hard on it.

"So why did you come here apart from dirtying my place?" Charles asked again, you could hear him opening and closing cupboards.

"Well you know...figured this ongoing battle we had going on, to see who would kill who first...Well, I'm gonna die anyway so I might as well let you win." You shuffled so your back rested on the couch and you could sit up slightly not caring one bit about covering the white couch with your blood.

Charles came back into view holding a bottle of whiskey, along with tongs, bandages, and a suture kit.

"Not my fucking couch!" Charles yelled annoyed.

"What's that for?" You asked but Charles didn't bother answering before he ripped your shirt from the side effortlessly allowing him to see your wound.

"Won't even invite me a drink first?" You joked, but your humor was short-lived as Charles pushed your hand away pouring the liquid over it.

"FU-" your voice was muffled as Charles put a rag on your mouth letting you bite down on it.

Charles didn't waste time as he disinfected the tools before sticking them in your wound looking for the bullet.

You writhed around in pain and despite this not being the first bullet you've taken somehow this one felt more painful.

"Stay Still." Charles demanded making you roll your eyes at him.

After what felt like forever he finally took the bullet out showing it to you before throwing it on the already bloodied carpet.

"I hate you." You spit the ragout and panted as you tried to steady your breath.

"Shut up." Charles's focus stayed on your body as he began sowing your wound shut.

"Why are you even doing this?" You asked.

Charles didn't answer you and you wondered what he was thinking about.

"Shit-" You hissed at the pain from the needle and thread going through you.

"Done." he avoided your eyes as he got up gathering everything up with him and moving away again.

"Charles-" you called out.

You still didn't have the strength to get up and go after him but a few seconds later Charles came back with water and a pill.

"Take this." He placed them both on the table in front of you before turning to walk away again.

"Charles answer me." You said more firmly this time.

He stopped in his tracks before turning around to face you. "If I'm gonna kill you...it'll be after a fair fight." He answered.

"Charles I have nothing left." You said, this time not caring how weak your voice sounded or the way your eyes watered in front of him. "Didn't you hear me? They killed all of my people." it pained you, truly did to think of all of the loyal men and women that were gone in a single night. "They think I'm dead too so just finish the job...please" you begged, something you'd never done before.

Charles didn't speak for a few seconds, avoiding your eyes again. "Drink that. I'll get the guest room ready since I can't ask my men to do it."

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #changetyre #f1 one shot #f1fic #smut #f1 mafia #charles leclerc mafia #mafia f1 #f1 drivers mafia #f1 mafia au #charles leclerc x reader #formula one #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction

[fangirl-dot-com]

🚕Accidentally Kidnapping a Mafia Boss

*part of the reverse tropes series*

Pairing: MafiaBoss!Max Verstappen x UberDriver!Reader Genre: Crack/Humor/Fluff? Summary: Uber seemed like a brilliant plan to get money to buy a new car. However, a mistake has you picking up the wrong passenger. Pretty blue eyes turn dangerous when you notice the gun in his belt.

*this was actually so much fun to write! this is in no way dark whatsoever. it's super funny and the reader is pretty ditzy but it's all in good fun! hope you like it!*

TAG LIST CLOSED

You hummed to whatever tune was playing on your half-broken radio. Most of the lyrics came out as muffled voices, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Because like the radio, your car was almost dead. 

Key word being almost. 

You had bought the car at the beginning of your high school career and refused to give it up. But, your father had finally convinced you to buy a new one. However, buying a new car was expensive, hence why you were driving around town at 7 p.m. on a Friday night trying to find someone who needed an Uber. 

Your family had mentioned how dangerous it was to drive for the “taxi” company, but no one else was hiring at this time. 

“It’s an easy way to make bank,” you had told your very confused parents. 

Your hand came up and smacked the top of the dash, causing the radio to spam for a moment before finally, clear voices played out. However, your eyebrows furrowed once you could actually listen to the song. 

“This is not my playlist,” you muttered while trying to get your Bluetooth to come back on. Once your fingers reached the dials, your phone lit up with an Uber notification. 

“Finally.”

You quickly put in the address and drove down the street. Your humming resumed, playlist reaching out through the speaker. You hadn’t even glanced at where the location was, or you would have realized that you were going in the wrong direction. 

When you were supposed to be going further into the town, you were headed for the city. The only place your parents refused to let you drive. 

It might have to do with the local mafia war that was going on. Something about track limits or whatnot. However, that was not going to stop you from getting paid that night. 

You finally came to a stop at the corner of what you thought to be Fifth and Main, like your phone said to stop at. The actual corner was Fourth and Main, but you couldn’t tell because half of the word “fourth” was smudged with some type of brown substance. 

Your shoulders raised in a shrug while your gaze landed back on your phone. At least you were supposed to be picking up a nice older looking lady. That’s what your Uber app said anyway. You leaned forward in the driver’s seat, making the entire car squeak. Before you knew it, your fingers had started to tap along to the song that was still playing. 

The sound of the door opening and slamming shut caught your attention. 

“Drive!” you heard from behind you. 

Your entire body turned in the seat as you looked to the back row of your car. 

That was not a nice looking old lady. 

The man that now resided on the back road had a mean glare as his eyebrows cocked. Sea blue eyes met your own as the man leaned forward and pointed out the window. 

“I said drive, let’s go!” the accented voice yelled.  

If you had taken a moment to actually look at the man, you would have noticed his roughed up suit, along with the bright red splatters along his white dress shirt. And on his belt line, a gun seemed to be tucked. 

But you hadn’t noticed. 

“Yes sir!” you cheerfully said, putting the car into drive. A loud boom sounded outside the car, but your radio had decided to turn up full blast, masking the sound. Your car squeaked as it started to move away from the corner and farther along the road. 

The man in the back seat seemed agitated, but slowly relaxed the farther away you got on the highway. He had leaned back against the window and rubbed his eyes. You wanted to keep glancing back at him, but you needed to drive. When you noticed that the Uber app had not updated with his next location, you gathered the courage to speak. However, he beat you to it. 

“Is this your first time?” 

You sheepishly grinned back at him. “Yes, sir. Sorry, is it that noticeable?” 

A grunt escaped his lips. 

“The damn Get Away Car sticker on the back is not very inconspicuous. You need to get rid of it.” 

“Oh! So you don’t like Taylor Swift that much?” 

The man glared at you through the rearview mirror, before he shut his eyes. His hand waved at you through the gap between the front seats. 

“Just don’t miss the exit.” 

“Sir, you’ll need to put in your location first.” 

His eyes shot open. “I guess this is your first day. How did you ever get through training?” 

You glanced back. “Training? It was all online?” 

A huff only answered as he reached for what you hoped was a phone in his pocket. 

“I’ll have to let Lando know that online training will not work.” 

You let out a nervous giggle, noting that there was no “Lando” in the Uber training video. But, once again, the money promised kept you going down the highway. You kept glancing at your phone, hoping that the guy would just put his address in. Now you were getting annoyed.

“Sir, I really need the address or I’ll have to make you get out.” 

A click near your ear made you freeze. 

“Who do you think you are? Giving orders to de Leeuw.” 

You had definitely picked up the wrong person. You wanted to start explaining yourself, but the gun near your head made the words die out in your throat. You could feel his breath on your ear as he spoke. This would be hot, if you weren’t scared to lose your life. 

“Now, you’re going to tell me who you are and why you don’t know where the right exit is. Are you working for Hamilton? Vettel? Alonso?” 

You were so caught up in not wanting to die that you missed the car in front of you slamming on your breaks. You were thankful for your fast reflexes as your foot pressed down on the left pedal, making your car lurch to a halt. A thump on the back of your seat had you reeling around to see what had happened to the blond man. 

You were surprised to see him now sprawled on the back seats, eyes closed and gun now on the floor. Your hands were shaking as you were now able to take a random exit. When you got to a random parking lot, your head hit the steering wheel. 

“I have de Leeuw in my back seat.” 

Your breathing started to grow ragged. 

“I have  de Leeuw in my back seat!” 

You were now panicking. 

“I HAVE AN FUCKING UNCONSCIOUS MAFIA BOSS IN MY BACK SEAT!” 

Charles’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Max’s tracker come to a stop in a parking lot. The Dutchman was supposed to come back right away after a swift deal with Gasly on the other side of town. But, Charles’s heart had dropped when the car, that Max was supposedly in, turned at an exit too soon. He took off his headset and rolled his chair over a bit. 

“Lando, who was picking Max up today after the deal? Was it Carlos?” 

The curly-haired Briton spun in his seat to look at his fellow mafia worker. 

“Uh, Carlos called in sick. I thought it was Oscar’s turn?” 

Something felt weird in Charles’s stomach. 

“No, Oscar is on that mission? Daniel was then after Oscar.” 

Lando’s eyes widened with fear. “Daniel is out of the country.” 

The Monegasque turned back to his computer screen. All vitals for Max were still good, but he had yet to leave the location. His finger pointed and pressed against the screen. 

“Then . . . who has Max?” 

Back in the parking lot, you had gotten out of the car and were currently rocking back and forth in the fetal position. 

“This is not happening. Why did this happen to me? I only needed some money. Why did I get stuck with a mafia boss. I want to live. I need to get back home to my plant and cat.” 

Last time you checked, de Leeuw was still out cold. You had taken the gun just in case he woke up in a panic and started to shoot at stuff. That would not end well for you. You grabbed your phone and pushed a button. 

“Yes? Hi? Hello, I am calling about what to do if I picked up the wrong passenger. Uh-huh. Yes. I didn’t have his address. Well, no. He’s unconscious. I can’t call the police, he probably owns them. What? Ok. No? The hospital is under the law as well? Yep. I can’t just take him back! No, wait. Don’t hang up. Uhg.” 

So much for customer service. 

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket. Your feet took you over to your car, and you opened the back seat. The blond man was still looked like he was asleep. Your face got closer to his. 

Hm. Up close he was quite handsome. The freckle on his lip really added bonus points. You were so engrossed with the small dot that you missed the twitch of his eyes under his eyelids. When you looked back up, your eyes met blue, which made you shriek and fall back on your butt. 

Max was a bit out of it when he was trying to wake up. What he wasn’t expecting was a face to be so close to his when his eyes finally opened. He would laugh if he had the strength as he watched you fall onto the concrete. His hand immediately went to his belt, but his heart dropped when he didn’t feel his gun. 

“Looking for this?” you asked, gun outstretched at the man in your back seat. Max’s eyes widened at the gun pointed to his head. It took all of his strength to put his hands up. 

“You don’t want to do this,” is the first calm thing that the man said to you. You, however, kept the gun pointed directly at him. 

“You’re right, I don’t. But I can’t have you freak out on me and shoot my face. Who would take care of my cat back home? My cousin Lan could, but he kills everything.” 

Max registered the slight hitch in your voice. While his hands were still up, he took a moment to look around the parking lot. In the depths of his mind, he was hoping that Lando or at least Charles were on their way to come get him. Yet, his heart rate rose as he saw a few familiar things surrounding him. 

He turned back to you. “Ok, you need to listen to me. We are in Rosberg territory right now. And he’s not going to like us on his property. So, you need to give me the gun and get back into the car.” 

Your eyes flickered around, and caught some movement to the left and then to the right. You slowly inched the gun down as you walked closer. When you were right in front of the Dutchman, you quickly handed him the gun as you rounded the car to the drivers seat. 

Max quickly reloaded the unloaded gun with a smirk on his face. You couldn’t have shot him if you tried. It took a bit for him to do it, but when the magazine fit back in the gun, he was wondering why you hadn’t taken off yet. 

“We have to go, now,” he said sternly. 

You turned around. “But I need to find a good get-away-song.” 

Max could count the pout on your lips as adorable, if it weren’t for the fact that Rosberg’s men were quickly making their way to the car. 

“You’re going to have to pick a good funeral song if you don’t hit the gas pedal.” 

“Aha!” 

The music blared out of the broken speaker as you finally put the car into drive. You heard metal hit metal and prayed that you still could trade your car out for another (even with a few bullet holes). 

Max had pressed himself up against the back seat, gun cocked and ready. 

“You better not shoot out my back window. I have to trade this car for a new one.” 

Max muttered, “You won’t trade anything if you’re dead.” 

“I heard that!” 

The mafia boss ignored you as he kept watch. When a few cars started to gain, that’s when he leaned back and aimed the gun, firing shots through your back windshield, shattering the glass. 

“Do you listen to anyone? Or is my voice just static in your brain?” you asked as you swerved onto the highway. When Max didn’t answer, you huffed. You steadily drove your car down the big roads as Max tried his best to keep the cars at bay. 

“How far am I driving?” 

Max grunted as he ducked from a bullet. “Just until exit 7. That’s my track.” 

You wanted to hit your head on the steering wheel once again. “You’re telling me that if I just kept driving, I wouldn’t be in this situation?” 

When he didn’t answer, you swerved a bit to knock him off balance. Your chuckles hit Max’s ear, pissing him off even more. 

“And to think, I was going to replace this utter junk if you made it out alive.” 

“We’re not done yet mister.��� 

There was still a bit of road to go, and you were hoping that Max would try to shoot out one of their tyres, instead of trying to shoot at their drivers. He was about reload when he heard a clicking sound. Max really wanted to through himself out the door. 

“Is your blinker seriously on right now?” 

Your fully turned around to glare. 

“Yes.” 

You jerked the wheel as you got onto exit 7, making the cars behind slowly back away and continue on the highway. You wiggled in your seat as you did a little celebration. When some familiar houses came into sight, you gasped. 

“My cousin lives around here!” 

Max was out of breath as he was flabbergasted by your upbeat spirit. “Cousin?” 

“Yeah! He has this like high tech job and stuff. I come over to swim in the summer.” 

He had no words as you pulled up to a familiar house. You scrambled out the door and fell face flat on the asphalt. 

“Sweet mother, thank you, thank you.” 

You could kiss the ground, but that would be super unsanitary. When the garage creaked, you quickly got up and scrambled behind Max, who raised his gun out of instinct. However, he wanted to laugh when he saw his two best friends in full oversized gear. 

The two friends froze at the sight of their boss and, well, Lando’s cousin. 

“Y/n?” the Briton questioned, pulling the visor on the oversized helmet up. 

Your sprung in your place. 

“Lando!” 

“Max?” 

“Charles?”

Lando squinted at you. 

“Y/n?” 

A nervous giggle escaped your lips. 

“Lando?” 

The curly-haired man rushed at you, making you dodge around Max. Which, that resulted in Lando chasing you around the yard. 

“You kidnapped my friend?” 

“Why are you friends with de Leeuw and apparently Il Predestinato? I’m telling Aunt Cisca!”

“Not if I tell your mum that you Ubered in the city!” 

Max and Charles watched as the two of you ran after each other, hurling insults and threats. The two jumped when they heard a loud creak behind them and then a crash. When they looked, your car was down to the ground, wheels askew. 

“My car! De Leeuw, you’re paying for that!”  

uber_y/n has posted

uber_y/n new baby from my new baby 🖤

liked by bestie, land0, max_v, and 204 others

bestie um excuse me ma'am 🤨 what happened to bessie? 😭

uber_y/n someone (not saying any names [max] ) SHATTERED HER BACK WINDOW

max_v I hope you like bessie 2.0 schatje

uber_y/n I dooooooo(not)

max_v woman 🙄

land0 you just had to go for my cousin 😐😑😐

uber_y/n he was very charismatic, unlike you noRIZZ 🫵💀

sharl_lec pls, for the love of everything good in this world, quit uber

uber_y/n NOPE on my way to pick up someone named...lewis?

max_v oh no

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

#reverse trope #kidnapped a mafia boss #uber driver reader #f1 x driver!reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #Max Verstappen fluff #crack fic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #lando norris #Charles leclerc #terrible dutch translation

[tayytayy12]

Off to the races | CS55 x Reader

Summary - When your father sold you off into a loveless marriage with a feared mafia boss, you knew it wouldn’t end well, the two of you hardly ever speaking, but one night when your husband promises he’ll start doing better, you cousins help but believe him.

Warnings - swearing, whatever you’d expect from a Mafia story really

Requested - No - Yes

Type - Written

Not been proofread

You knew from the money that your father told you about the little arrangement he had made with Carlos Sainz, the most feared man in all of Spain, that you’d be unhappy as the result of it. You’re whole life you’d grown up lacking the luxury of having a lot of money, but you had a loving family that were worth everything to you, so you was content, but apparently your father didn’t feel the same.

He done something stupid. Something so incredibly stupid and wrong, he borrowed money from Carlos Sainz, money he knew for a fact that he would never be able to able to repay, so when the man showed up at your family’s home, a gun pointed at your fathers head unless he could offer up some kind of repayment, your father offered you up to the man without a moment of hesitation.

Carlos’ men came and hit you the next day, no matter how much you screamed and begged your mother and father to make them not take you, to let you stay at home with your family, they didn’t listen and you was taken away and married off to Carlos at the next available date.

He didn’t love you, he didn’t care for you, he needed you for one thing and one thing only, an heir. One to take over for him when he wouldn’t work anymore, to keep his family name leading the mafia past his lifetime, that’s all.

You didn’t have fun at the wedding, you never had fun, you woke up, had breakfast, wandered around the halls of your home, and went to bed, you hardly ever saw Carlos, it was rare he even came home at night.

You sighed, flopping onto your back as the moonlight shone through the crack in the curtains, yet another night that sleep seemed like something far out of reach, another night where Carlos wasn’t home and he was out doing god knows what.

You could never sleep alone, back at home you shared a room with your younger sister, your whole life you’d never have to stay in a room all alone, it was too quiet and empty.

“Fuck this.” You muttered as you threw the blanket off of your legs and slipped some shoes and a robe on as you walked out of your bedroom, the two guard that were always near you following a few steps behind, another annoying habit of your husband, having guards follow and track your every move.

You went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, something your other used to do when you was a child and couldn’t sleep, and went to go sit on the back porch of your house, looking out onto the anchors of land that she now partly owned.

You groaned as you heard the door click open from behind you, “Mr.Jackson, I appreciate that you’re just going your job, but it’s a glass door, can’t you just look at me through it instead? It’s bad enough you’re always two feet behind me. No offence.”

“Is that how you talk to all my staff?” You instantly sat up straighter when you heard your husband’s voice instead of the British accent of your assigned bodyguard, you cleared your throat, “Sorry Mr.Sainz, I didn’t know it was you.” You whispered, your eyes still stuck on the land before you.

“No need to be so formal, cariño,” he said as he sat on the seat beside yours, “we are married after all.”

You scoffed and rolled his eyes at his words and muttered a quiet “Barley.” But he still heard you and turned his stare towards you, “and by that you mean?”

You rolled your eyes once again, “I see you four times a month if I’m lucky, Carlos. You’ve never wished me a happy birthday in two years of marriage. You see me as the key to continuing your family name. Nothing more.”

He didn’t know what to say, he was angry, not at you. At himself for letting you ever think the words leaving your mouth were true, “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel this way cariño.”

You shrugged and took a sip of your tea, the warm liquid gliding down your throat, “Don’t be. Our marriage is and always has been a business proposition, nothing more.”

He wanted to say so many things in that moment, how he picked you because from the moment he saw you, your enchanting eyes and sweet as honey laugh, he fell. He could get any woman from anywhere to continue his family’s legacy, but he chose you.

“Trust me, cariño,” he whispered as he moved from his seat and got on his knees in front of you, confusing you greatly as he took the warm mug from your hand and placed it in the ground, “you’re much more than a part of a business deal to me.” He whispered and he placed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “I’ll do better by you, you’re my wife, my main priority,” he whispered, this side of him was new, so new you was scared to say that you liked it, “tell me what I can do to start making it better.”

You swallowed lightly, having no idea where this Carlos was coming from, “You can actually spend the night with me tonight.” Yous aid in a quite whisper, but he had no protest, he just nodded with a smile as he stood and picked you up, a,ing you help in surprise as your legs wrapped round his waist on instinct.

He carried you to your shared bedroom and placed you down into the bed and he went to change, when he tenured you was asleep against the soft pillows, the tea having worked its magic and your exhaustion catching up to you, he smiled down at your body as he got in bed careful besides your sleeping frame and pulled you into him, he was going to do better. He was going to be better, for you. He was.

—————

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[nayziiz]

Shadows | LN4

Summary: [Mafia] In the face of dire financial troubles, Lando receives a desperate plea from his father to unearth a lucrative solution within the family business. Fueled by the pressure to rescue his family from ruin, Lando stumbles upon a seemingly perfect venture—using luxury cars as a facade for the clandestine world of drug trafficking. With the unexpected partnership of Amelia Rossi, his father's best friend's daughter, Lando believes he has found the ideal accomplice. However, as the Norris family collides with the ambitious Russells in a ruthless bid to establish their dominance, the perilous path Lando has chosen places not only his newfound enterprise at stake but also entangles Amelia in the dangerous crossfire that unfolds.

Warning: Violence, drugs, blood, smut, fluff, guns

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Amelia Rossi) - appearances from other drivers

Masterlist

CHAPTER 1

Adam Norris, a man of unwavering intelligence and foresight, possessed a keen mind that proved to be the foundation of his family's success. Drawing wisdom from the teachings of his own father, he meticulously gathered knowledge that transcended generations. Adam's commitment to passing down this invaluable wealth of experience became evident as he shared it with his two sons, Oliver and Lando.

Oliver, the elder of the two brothers, entertained dreams beyond the confines of the family business. His aspirations leaned towards exploration and the creation of a family of his own, seeking a life that danced with the rhythm of distant lands and untold adventures. The allure of faraway places called out to him, shaping his aspirations far differently from the path his father had paved.

On the contrary, Lando demonstrated an early affinity for the intricacies of his father's business. From the tender age of thirteen, he became a silent observer in the boardroom, soaking in the nuances of negotiations and the delicate dance of corporate strategy. Lando's curiosity and natural acumen propelled him to actively engage in the family affairs, gradually transforming him into Adam's confidant and, eventually, his right-hand man.

As Lando navigated through the diverse facets of his father's enterprises, he embraced each challenge with determination and an appetite for learning. The evolution from a teenager attending meetings to a key player in his father's business empire was a testament to Lando's commitment and his father's trust in his capabilities.

The Norris legacy, steeped in generational wisdom and Lando's unwavering dedication, flourished under the guidance of a shrewd patriarch. The father-son duo forged a formidable partnership, where the torch of knowledge burned bright, illuminating the path for the next generation of Norris leaders.

Despite being a pivotal figure in the family business, Lando Norris's impulsive spending habits were a source of concern and consternation. His father, while recognizing the undeniable value Lando brought to the business, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the financial whirlwind his son often found himself in.

Adam, pragmatic and stoic, seldom approved of Lando's extravagant expenditures. Yet, a nuanced understanding of his son's behaviour allowed Adam to chalk it up to Lando's yearning for the childhood he never fully embraced. The rationale was a blend of parental leniency and a desire for Lando to experience the joy and spontaneity that he might have missed in his earlier years.

However, the Norris family's financial stability faced a significant setback following a rocky investment. The losses were unforeseeable, and the blame could not be squarely placed on any one individual. The family found themselves at a crossroads, and it became clear that swift and decisive action was required to navigate the tumultuous financial waters.

Adam, burdened by the weight of the situation, turned to Lando, his son with the untamed spirit. Recognizing the need for Lando to step up and take charge, Adam appealed to his son's sense of responsibility and loyalty to the family. The family business, weathering the storm of financial hardship, required a leader capable of navigating through the tumultuous seas and steering it back towards prosperity.

In the hushed atmosphere of Adam's lavishly appointed office, Lando found himself summoned to a covert meeting, the dim lighting casting shadows that danced across the luxurious furnishings. The air was heavy with unspoken tension as Lando took his seat in front of his father's imposing desk.

Adam, a cunning and resolute businessman with a no-nonsense attitude, sat behind the desk, his expression betraying the gravity of the situation. The room, adorned with mahogany accents and opulent artwork, served as the backdrop for an exchange that held the fate of the Norris family legacy in its balance.

In a voice that brooked no argument, Adam presented Lando with a stark ultimatum. The family, once stable and prosperous, now faced the looming spectre of financial turmoil. The weight of responsibility bore down heavily on Adam's shoulders, and with a sense of urgency, he articulated the dire straits they found themselves in.

“The Norris family needs a fresh and lucrative income stream," Adam declared, cutting through the air with precision. "Our legacy is at stake, Lando, and I need you to step up to the plate. If we don't secure our position, we risk our place in society altogether. And, if that happens, you will be exiled from this family.”

Lando, feeling the gravity of his father's words, absorbed the weight of the ultimatum. The notion of being cut off from the family legacy, a legacy he had been groomed to uphold, added an unexpected layer of urgency to the situation. Adam's eyes, seasoned with the trials of the business world, revealed the desperation and determination that drove him to make the demand.

As the conversation unfolded, Lando grappled with the realisation that the Norris family, for all its prestige and outward success, was never above delving into murky waters when it came to ensuring their stability. The unspoken understanding that resonated between father and son transcended ethical boundaries, and Lando became acutely aware of the lengths to which the Norris patriarchs have gone to safeguard their family's prosperity.

In the dimly lit corner of the opulent office, a pact is silently forged. The Norris family's survival hinged on their ability to navigate the shadows, to engage in business practices that might raise eyebrows but were deemed necessary for the preservation of their legacy. The goals, always centred around stability and prosperity, now took on a new dimension as the Norris family braced itself for the challenges that lay ahead.

In the heart of the city's underbelly, hidden behind unmarked doors and guarded secrets, Lando found solace in the dimly lit sanctuary of his secret speakeasy. The air was charged with an aura of secrecy, and the distant hum of jazz music created a backdrop for contemplation as he navigated the labyrinth of decisions laid before him.

Seated in a secluded corner, Lando immersed himself in the speakeasy’s ambiance, surrounded by an eclectic mix of patrons engaged in hushed conversations and conspiratorial exchanges. The flickering candlelight casted dancing shadows on the exposed brick walls, mirroring the intricate thoughts that swirled within Lando's mind.

As he contemplated various ventures that could potentially salvage his family's fortunes, the weight of responsibility pressed heavily on his shoulders. The gravity of his father's ultimatum lingered in the air like an unspoken challenge, demanding a resolution that aligned with the legacy of the Norris family. The choices before him, however, seemed to form an intricate puzzle with no clear solution in sight.

The scent of cigar smoke mingled with the fragrance of aged whiskey, creating an atmosphere that mirrored the complexity of Lando's predicament. The clandestine dealings and veiled conversations around him served as a constant reminder of the high-stakes game he found himself entangled in.

Unable to escape the palpable tension, Lando raised a whiskey glass to his lips, drowning his worries in the amber liquid. Each sip seemed to carry the weight of his familial obligations, momentarily providing a respite from the tumult of conflicting thoughts. The jazz melodies, with their soulful undertones, offered a bittersweet soundtrack to his contemplation, resonating with the complexities of the choices before him.

As Amelia Rossi gracefully drifted through the smoky atmosphere of the speakeasy, the ambient jazz music and muted conversations provide a backdrop to her entrance. Dressed in her business casual attire from work, her clipped hair was loosened, cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall of chestnut silk. In the dingy ambiance, she became a vision, an ethereal figure transcending the gritty reality of the exclusive establishment.

Lando, ensconced in his thoughts and surrounded by the clandestine energy of the speakeasy, noticed Amelia's arrival. Her presence stood out amidst the shadows and swirling emotions, like a beacon in the midst of obscurity. In that moment, he decided to confide in her, recognizing a familiar face and an old connection that ran deep.

Amelia and Lando shared more than just a friendship; their bond was a testament to a lifelong companionship forged in the crucible of childhood. Born mere months apart, they practically grew up side by side, the echoes of their laughter intermingling with the spirited conversations of their fathers on the golf course. The connection between the Norris and Rossi families transcended mere camaraderie; it was a tapestry woven with shared moments, unspoken understandings, and the promise that their destinies were intertwined.

Amelia's gaze met Lando's in the smoky haze of the speakeasy, and there was a flicker of recognition, a silent acknowledgment of the bond they shared. In her eyes, Lando found a unique comfort that transcended the chaos of the private world he navigated. As the jazz music weaved its spell, Amelia sank into the seat beside him and Lando opened up to her, sharing the weight of his father's ultimatum and the desperate need for a solution to salvage the family legacy.

“I want to export... things.” Lando confessed to Amelia, choosing his words carefully, his gaze intense and laden with the gravity of the proposition. Amelia listened attentively, as she sipped on her gin and tonic, her presence offering a calmness he needed to gather his thoughts and plans.

“Things?” Amelia raised an eyebrow, seeking clarification. Lando leaned in, lowering his voice to match the discreet ambiance of the speakeasy.

“Drugs, or contraband. Stuff people can't get just anywhere.” He clarified.

Amelia's eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and concern. The daring proposition hung in the air, the weight of its implications reverberating between them. Lando, propelled by a sense of urgency, continued to lay out his plan.

“With your help.” He added, his tone a blend of desperation and determination. “Your beautiful cars need owners. And, the owners need what we're offering. We strip the interiors, pack it with whatever substance they require, tidy it all up, and ship the car to them. With your last name, no one will ever think of checking anything except the exterior.”

Amelia absorbed the audacity of the proposal, her mind racing to comprehend the risks and potential rewards. Lando, eyes fixed on hers, did not shy away from the harsh reality of the suggestion. He laid out the intricate web of their venture, weaving a narrative that spoke to the urgency of his situation.

“What's in it for me?” Amelia finally questioned, her business acumen kicking in.

“You'll still make your usual profit by selling the car, and you'll get a 40% cut on whatever we're hiding. Think about the expansion you always dreamt of. Now is your chance to make good on it.” Lando attempted to persuade her.

Amelia, hailing from a well-respected family in London, initially hesitated at the risky proposition. The weight of societal expectations and the scrutiny that would undoubtedly accompany her involvement in such a venture loomed large. However, as Lando painted a vivid picture of the potential rewards and the adrenaline of expanding her luxury car dealership, Amelia found herself intrigued by the allure of the unknown.

“I'll do it.” Amelia finally conceded, her voice a mixture of determination and apprehension. 

She understood the enormity of the decision she was making, aware that the venture could lead them into murky territory. Yet, her loyalty to Lando and the unspoken promise of their shared history weighed heavily on her conscience.

Amelia knew that her connection to the prestigious Rossi family held a unique value. It added a layer of legitimacy to their dealings, creating a shield from prying eyes and potential scrutiny. The Rossi name, synonymous with respect and affluence, transformed into a strategic advantage in a venture fraught with risks.

With the decision sealed and a sense of inevitability hanging in the air, Lando, feeling a mix of relief and determination, decided to mark the beginning of their risky venture with a celebratory gesture. He motioned to one of the waitrons in the speakeasy, instructing them to bring a bottle of champagne to their secluded corner.

As the bottle arrived, its cork popped with a celebratory resonance, Lando took charge. He poured a generous serving of the effervescent liquid into two crystal glasses, the golden bubbles catching the dim light of the speakeasy. Lando extended a glass towards Amelia, a symbolic toast to the alliance they had formed.

“To new beginnings.” Lando raised his glass, his eyes meeting Amelia's.

“To new beginnings.” Amelia, still reserved, reciprocated the gesture as she tapped her glass against Lando's in a shared moment of acknowledgement.

As they savoured the crisp taste of the champagne, the speakeasy seemed to hold its breath, the ambient jazz music providing a subtle soundtrack to their clandestine celebration. The air was thick with the weight of their decisions, but for a fleeting moment, the bubbly elixir created a sense of levity, a respite from the complexities of the venture they were to embark upon.

“Finally, I get to work with you.” Lando remarked, a hint of excitement in his voice.

“Don't get too excited.” She responded, a reminder of the challenges that lay ahead and the gravity of the path they've chosen.

As the conversation shifted away from the formality of their risky venture, Amelia, wanting to inject a touch of casualness, playfully leaned against Lando. The dimly lit speakeasy seemed to embrace the casual moment amidst the weighty discussions that preceded.

“How's Zara?” Amelia inquired, steering the conversation towards more personal territory. “Flo told me you brought her home for dinner last week.”

“She's great. She's nice.” Lando's demeanour softened at the mention of Zara.

“Wow, tone down the enthusiasm.” Amelia teased.

“No, she's lovely, but she's just like everyone else - they just want money and status.” A wry smile tugged at Lando's lips.

“Yet you keep her around?” Amelia raised an eyebrow, challenging him with a playful smirk. 

“She's a welcome distraction at times.” Lando's response carried a note of self-awareness.

“I see. Why aren't you with her now then, distracting yourself?” Amelia, ever perceptive, didn’t miss a beat.

“Because someone else had what I needed tonight.” Lando's gaze shifted, meeting Amelia's eyes with a hint of vulnerability. “How’s Daniel?”

“Ah, Daniel.” Amelia sighed with a hint of amusement. “That ended a few weeks ago, already. He has too much energy for me to keep up with.”

“Strange for someone who's literally ten years older than you.” Lando chuckled, echoing the sentiment.

“I don’t mind it, but he’s the literal embodiment of a golden retriever. He never stops and sits still.” Amelia grinned, acknowledging the age difference with a playful shrug.

“You love dogs, though.” Lando observed.

“I do. I really do. But when it comes to relationships, I need someone a bit more on the fierce side of things, a bit more-”

“Like you.” Lando interjected, finishing her sentence with a knowing smile.

“Exactly. Someone who can match my pace, challenge me, keep up with the twists and turns. Daniel's great, but in matters of the heart, I need a different kind of energy.” Amelia nodded, a playful glint in her eyes.

Amelia, sat beside Lando in the dimly lit speakeasy, refrained from divulging a recent rendezvous with Charles Leclerc. It was an unusual occurrence for her to keep things from her best friend and closest confidant, but it felt different. She needed to be sure before sharing the details. As Lando continued the conversation, Amelia wrestled with the complexities of her recent experiences.

It wasn't just a casual affair with Charles. Amelia had always been meticulous about keeping her relationships light and transient. However, Charles offered a breath of fresh air after her complete separation from Daniel. Their connection was intense, fueled by a mutual passion for success. Charles, despite the demands of his job, reciprocated Amelia's energy, aligning with her ambitions.

He allowed her to take control, especially in the bedroom, an aspect of intimacy she had always wanted to explore. Charles became a juxtaposition to Daniel's perpetual energy, providing a different kind of excitement that drew Amelia in. Their encounters were more than just physical; they were charged with a shared fervour for life and success.

Despite the allure of her rendezvous with Charles, Amelia refrained from sharing the new chapter of her life with Lando. It was less about hiding, but rather about understanding the dynamics at play. Daniel, a once constant in her life, carried a different weight and expectation. With Charles, it was all about the divergence from her usual patterns, an exploration into uncharted territory.

Despite the excitement that Charles brought into Amelia's life, a lingering sense of unease persisted beneath the surface. As she navigated the nuances of their relationship, an elusive element remained that seemed to elude definition, something amiss that she never could quite put her finger on.

Amelia, a discerning and perceptive individual, grappled with the unspoken doubts that flickered in the corners of her mind. The connection with Charles, though passionate and invigorating, carried a subtle undercurrent of uncertainty. There was no lack of chemistry or shared interests; rather, an intangible aspect that evaded explanation.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #mclaren #mclaren f1 #lando norris x oc #mafia!au #mafia!f1 #f1 #f1 driver x oc

[pleepisdelulu]

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 #f1 drivers #mafia au #soulmates #poly!f1 #mafia!f1

[talictries]

lando criminal AU fic idea

“We’re not gonna’ get caught,” are Max’s convincing words and Lando has a completely dogshit feeling about this. 

“Dude,” he scuffs his sneakers against the payment. “If we do, I’m fucked.”

Button’s gonna kill him. Well, only if he gets to him before Ricciardo or Alonso do.

“Well, you won’t get fucked,” Max shoves his hands into his hoodie - no doubt where his screwdriver and pocket knife are - accent sharp - emphasis on the ‘t’s. “Because we will not get caught.”

Max’s view on things is so black and white. Lando swims in grey. Speaking of grey, that’ll be the only colour he sees on all four walls if he ends up in the can.

Really, the likelihood of getting done is infinitesimally small. How many times have he and Max been out on the town? Hundreds since they got into this industry at sixteen - two teens tryna’ make a living. Max has never been caught once.

And as for himself… well, he doesn’t really like to think about it.

Especially not now - seeing as they’re side by side scouring the streets in the dead of night. 

Carjacking is something he’s good at. Nimble fingers, precise movements, the knowledge of cars and engines and everything he and Max studied together as children in the back of Nana’s daycare wishing they would be Formula One drivers.

Fate didn’t take them there in the end - no matter how much their small minds dream. Instead, it has taken them to a McLaren.

“You good?” Max’s voice is gruff.

“Yeah,” Lando bites his lip - seals his fate. “Let’s just make this quick.”

And in thirty seconds they’re out of London’s bitter cold, and seated as passenger and driver. Max turns the heating on. Lando presses gloved fingers to the vents and feels his skin and muscles there for the first time in three days.

#f1 #formula one #ao3 #fanfic writer #fic idea #snipped #wip #will this die in the docs? #mayhaps #but imagine a small time criminal AU getting thrown into the deep end #prison au #mafia au #im sure you can guess which drivers are mafia bosses #ln4 #mv1

[verstarppen]

omg i saw you said you needed logan requests and i have so got you 🫶🫶 maybe he like gets with one of the other driver’s sisters or something and in order to soft launch she starts posting like a ton of american cliches yk like red white and blue, fishing, american foods and stuff like that idk lol i just thought it would be funny and cute and then they like hard launch by him posting something celebrating wherever she’s from maybe??

summary; the ricciardo urge to be obsessed with america takes a whole new meaning when your relationship with the only american on the grid is revealed...because of kinder eggs

pairing; logan sargeant x fem! ricciardo! reader [ no faceclaim ]

a/n; this goes out to @wtfisakilometer2 and the logan trenches anon i hope you're both reading this because it's for you and you only

liked by danielricciardo, liamlawson30, maxverstappen1 and 295,199 others

ynricciardo oh fr? on cod?

view all 99,956 comments

liamlawson30 cough cough

ynricciardo once i get your funko i will chew his arms off

danielricciardo Always nice to see you touching grass

ynricciardo hilarious

pierregasly Free him from the land prison

ynricciardo go thank the lord it's not you on that rod

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, ynricciardo and 596,395 others

f1 BREAKING: Logan Sargeant will not race in Austin GP due to health problems

view all 100,700 comments

eastcoastbearman WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED

baconforza it's qatar's fault im telling you

logansargeant It's just a cold, guys. Thank you all for the support and get well soon messages 😊

roboclaren YOU'LL EAT THEM IN LAS VEGAS MARK MY WORDS 🦅🇺🇸 realmvettel DON'T DIE ON US WE HAVE HISTORY TO MAKE

liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant, landonorris and 821,223 others

ynricciardo WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETERRRRRRR 🦅🦅🦅🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸 RAHHHH

view all 102,222 comments

verstappler i know danny's little texas loving heart is melting rn

lionkingseb going for a rival's sister is not the williams strategy we expected

patiencesainz is it in the ricciardo genes to love murica this much

troubletauri HOW DID THIS HAPPEN

egggrosjean missing a gp to care for the gf made me respect this man

landonorris STOP IGNORING MY TEXTS

ynricciardo you're obsessed with me logansargeant 🤨 ynricciardo im running an illegal funko kinder distribution mafia ring don't worry about it babe

pic credits: instagram and pinterest

blog taglist: @coffeehurricanes @iifloweringnightsii @jsjcue @lanando4 @fastcarsandshit @christianpulisic10 @allygatcr  (first logan points how are we feeling)

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant au #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #instagram au #social media au #f1 fanfic

[valyrfia]

On Lewis Hamilton, Ferrari, the immediate past, the long-term future, and why Charles Leclerc will remain Ferrari's priority (contrary to popular belief)

Now that everyone's slowly recovering from the CHAOS of Lewis's Ferrari announcement (and one of the best days on the internet for a while), it's no surprise that we're all starting to ask ourselves...well, how exactly will a Charles Leclerc and Lewis Hamilton line up work? Yes, Charles is Ferrari's golden boy, and has been so even as far back as his record-breaking F2 campaign, and yes, every single WDC of the past half a century rates Charles as a once-in-a-generation driver who would likely have at least one successful WDC campaign under his belt if he were given a half-decent car and strategy. But Lewis Hamilton is...well, Lewis Hamilton. His name and his achievements stand in a class of their own. 7x WDC wins in teams with 8x WCC wins across his career. His name is synonymous with, and often even bigger than, the F1 brand. Surely it's a no-brainer in this driver line-up that Charles is bound to be sidelined, especially as Lewis has made no secrets in the past about his hunt for an elusive eighth WDC.

However, I believe otherwise. I think that Lewis coming to Ferrari was not only accepted by Charles, but actively encouraged and furthermore, Lewis will not be given the n1 driver status by the team. Charles and Lewis at Ferrari will be, at best, equals, but more likely the development informed by Lewis and his experience but skewed towards Charles. To truly dive into why, we need to consider several factors including la mafia monegasque inside Ferrari, the curious case of Charles's old teammates, the emerging details of Lewis's contract, and the true value of what Lewis brings to Maranello. Buckle up, grab yourself a drink and a snack, (spare a prayer for @tsarinablogs who proofread this), and I'll see you below the cut. It's going to be a wild ride.

First things first, even though it's signing Lewis Hamilton, we have had confirmation that this move basically passed through Charles for approval and Charles signed his contract extension KNOWING that his teammate would be none other than Lewis, and he signed anyway. I'm sure this isn't a choice that Charles made lightly, so we have to put ourselves in his shoes, examine his reasons.

Charles has been outspoken about relishing a chance to learn from Lewis. And what racing driver worth their laurels wouldn't? In races that most of us can't bear to watch (Charles and Carlos in Monza 2023, and Max and Charles fights in 2022 come to mind), Charles always emerges beaming and giggling. This man lives and breathes for racing right on the limit, and how better to learn that from THE Lewis Hamilton. But just because Charles wants to learn from Lewis doesn't mean (as some seem to believe) that Charles will suddenly become the Ferrari n2. I trust Charles's judgement in this, and trust that Il Predestinato has unshakeable faith that he will be the one fighting for a title, even if his teammate is Lewis Hamilton. For any worried that Charles couldn't possibly hold his own, well, let's take a little look at how Charles has fared in a teammate battles in the past.

Max Verstappen is more often than not, ridiculed and made fun of for having a teammate curse. And while, yes, he pushed Daniel Ricciardo out of the RBR n1 seat, he sat through the rotating door of Pierre/Alex, and Checo hasn't been having the greatest time. But Max's teammates, more often than not, do have very decent carers after. Daniel basically has a guaranteed ride out of sabbatical right back into the fastest car on the grid next year, Pierre is still around with Alpine, Alex is making some serious waves at Williams and is being touted as a possible replacement for Lewis.

By contrast, Charles tends to destroy the careers of those who have been his teammates in Formula 1. I mean, we only need to take one look at the position that Carlos is now in to see it. At the start of 2023, everything was looking right for Carlos. He had a car that suited him and didn't suit Charles (extreme understeer), he even managed to be the only non-RB driver to win a race in 2023. However Charles, with three more non-classified (DNS/DNF/DSQ) races, still beat Carlos in the WDC at the end of the year, not placing ONCE outside the top 5 in races he finished since the end of the Summer Break. Even in a year that was supposed to be geared for Carlos, Charles humiliated him. Now, no team seems to be jumping at the chance to sign Carlos. Indeed his best option at the moment might be to sign with Sauber, try and build the team around him when it becomes Audi and hope that by some miracle in the first few seasons of this new F1 team it can be at least high midfield. But Carlos is in a sticky situation, he's quite old for a prime F1 driver in the current era, especially considering the extremely talented generation just below him. This news has more or less sealed his fate of not being anywhere near a championship car for at least the next 3-4 years.

Even looking back past Carlos to Seb. Make no mistake of it, Ferrari destroyed Seb's career–but Charles, the upstart young Il Predestinato and the pride of Maranello, is also wholly responsible. He refused to roll over and accept the role of easy-going second driver, despite the car and the team being built around Seb, and won not only his maiden grand prix, but won Monza as a Ferrari driver and finished ABOVE Seb in points in the WDC that year.

It's a fact that flies below the radar, but Charles is ruthless when it comes to his teammates. One thing Charles proved while being teammates with Seb is that he's happy to learn from more experienced teammates, then use their own tricks against them. Charles thrives DESPITE and almost BECAUSE of the adversity and ends up outperforming them and often as a result, if not ending their careers then at least setting them back. While it's almost certain that Lewis's career move AFTER this will be retirement, it's not only foolish but it's plain wrong to assume that Charles will try anything other than to beat Lewis in a teammate head to head, all the while watching and observing what it is that makes Lewis Hamilton a 7x WDC.

While we're on the topic of Charles and his ruthlessness, make no mistake, this Fred Vasseur takeover of Ferrari has been entirely orchestrated by Charles. It's pretty much a widely known fact that Mattia was fired to placate Charles, and Fred was brought in on Charles's request. Not only is Fred Charles's old Sauber boss, but Charles also has a cultural advantage with Fred over his present and future teammates that's worth mentioning, him and Fred share a common mother tongue in French and if they're videoed together, chances are they're speaking it. It's a tiny detail, really, but you tend to have unconcious affinity to those who share your native language. Fred is Charles's man at Ferrari, and this is reflected in not only Fred's words surrounding Charles's contract renewal, but also in the secondary driver signings. Not only does the new reserve driver, F2 FDA prodigy Ollie Bearman, seem very friendly with Charles, but the Scuderia's new development driver, who will spending crucial hours on the sim and in testing, is none other than Arthur Leclerc. This is a team that is deliberately being filled with Charles ride or dies, and it's of little surprise that Carlos found himself pushed out of the nest.

So we've established that Charles wants to go up against Lewis Hamilton, that he's bringing Lewis into a team that orbits Charles like the sun. But what's to stop Lewis from doing to Charles what he did to Fernando in 2008, and Nico in 2013? Even with the strength of Charles's conviction and the team Charles has around him, Lewis Hamilton is Lewis Hamilton. Even if Charles and Fred talk in French, Lewis knew Fred first, and has known him for longer. It's already confirmed that Lewis is bringing engineers and expertise from Mercedes and Lewis could mount a challenge to Il Predestinato at Maranello if he wanted to. So why won't he?

It's simple, Lewis's goal is not to win the eighth, it's something longer lasting.

Now don't get me wrong, if Charles does not match Lewis in the car, and the car is dominant. Lewis will win every single WDC for as long as he and Charles are teammates and he will do so without remorse or regret. If Lewis knows he can outperform Charles, he will refuse to bow to the slightest of team orders. Charles has to keep his end of the bargain and do what Nico Rosberg did in 2016–show that he can beat Lewis Hamilton in equal machinery.

To clarify, I'm sure that winning an eighth, especially with Ferrari, would mean the world to Lewis. Not only would he break a world record, but he'd bring the championship home to Schumacher's old team. It would create a legacy to last, his time in F1 forever immortalised in legend. But what about his life AFTER F1, what sort of legacy does Lewis want to leave there?

I think Lewis is ready to retire. His drive for Ferrari is a swan song, the fulfilment of a childhood dream, but we also have to consider what could have made him decide to not end his career with Mercedes. After all, he's been with them since he was thirteen, been driving for them in F1 for 10 seasons (soon to be 11) and he's been outspoken about that team basically being his family. While there are excellent points about Ferrari possibly being dominant under the new regs in 2026 and car development in Mercedes not listening to Lewis, I believe the biggest factor is what Ferrari could promise Lewis for when his career as an F1 driver comes to a close. Not only did Mercedes refuse to make him ambassador, but Ferrari promised him one of the most expensive contracts in the history of the sport and a joint investment fund to help grow Lewis's own projects in the future. Lewis is passionate about having a platform, in having initiatives to further his causes and it makes absolute sense that he wants to focus on these after his retirement. Ferrari was able to promise him security and freedom after the racing is done, while apparently, Mercedes could offer neither.

So if Ferrari isn't bringing Lewis in on this insane with the goal of winning a world championship, what do they stand to gain from it all?

It's simple, Ferrari is Ferrari yes, but Lewis Hamilton is Lewis Hamilton. The best and the brightest in the F1 world will be flocking to Maranello, lining up outside the gates for a chance to work with him, just as they did to Mercedes in the years past. Just as Ferrari can guarantee Lewis long-term success, Lewis can guarantee Ferrari long-term success. Even if Lewis only stays a couple of years, it is certain that the expertise he brings in will stay longer, long enough to secure Ferrari dominance and many WCCs throughout the new regs and maybe even longer than that. On the chance that Charles can't quite match Lewis and Lewis does get his eighth, he'll still almost certainly get a WDC out of it when Lewis leaves, along with a treasure trove of firsthand information as to the driving and the mindset of the most decorated F1 driver ever, information that Charles will carry on into his career and whoever he may face next.

And Charles will carry on, this is the most important piece of the puzzle. This is why Charles obviously relishes having Lewis as his future teammate, no matter what it will bring. At best, Charles can write himself into history by fulfilling the Il Predestinato prophecy in spectacular fashion, not only bringing glory back to Maranello, but doing so with The Sir Lewis Hamilton as his teammate, and cementing his status as generational talent in indisputable fashion. At worst for Charles, Lewis takes the initial glory of the first championship after the drought, but the subsequent championships will be basically promised to Charles. Lewis will likely not stick around for longer than three years, after which Charles will have a team of incredible engineering and strategic proportions with him at the centre for the rest of his career, which could easily last another decade after that.

Lewis Hamilton is Lewis Hamilton, and him and Ferrari have a lot to benefit from each other, but make no mistake, Charles is the present, and the future of la Scuderia Ferrari.

Lastly, although I'm sure most of you have heard this story, I'll leave you with some words by Sky Sports' Carlo Vanzini as to the origin of Charles's nickname, Il Predestinato.

“It all goes back to an early encounter. He was about 15 and they had brought him to Sky for some media training. We had this meeting and then had a press conference simulation where I asked him something like: ‘You’re starting on pole today but your team-mate is racing for title, what are you going to do?’

“To which he answered, ‘I race to win.’ So we sat there and came up with a more diplomatic answer, something along the lines of ‘I’ll focus on my race, but I will help the team wherever necessary.’

“But then this boy came up to me later and told me the question I had asked was fundamentally wrong because ‘there is no way my teammate will be the one fighting for the championship and not me.'”

#charles leclerc #scuderia ferrari #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #silly season 2024 #essays #f1 analysis #f1 essays

[norrisleclercf1]

Who Runs the World? You Do

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x Mafia!Reader

Rating: R

Words: 2.0K

Warnings: Oral (f reciving) blood, violence, etc. Angst, fluff, Reader is the dom in this relationship and spoils Pierre

Requested: Yes/No

Request: What about kingpin mafia!reader x sugarbaby!Pierre? She’s just running an entire crime syndicate while spoiling her trophy husband Pierre. I think it be fun if he was still a f1 driver and all his fans think that she’s just a very introverted mysterious stay at home wife because they don’t know she’s actually a criminal. His fans think that Pierre is paying for all their expensive clothes houses cars etc because they think she’s unemployed but really she’s this terrifying international criminal that loves buying her husband pretty things. I’m to excited about this to come up with any proper plot points right now so I’ll leave you with this concept in case you have any cool ideas for it

Synopsis: Married to an F1 Driver isn't easy, but neither is running the largest crime organization.

French terms to know: Yeux bleus (blue eyes), Péché (Sin)

A/N: Merry Christmas Eve/Merry Christmas/ Happy Holidays/ and Yule to those who celebrate! This is a yule gift to @chrysanthemonza now they can't bother me for it anymore! Love you bby!!!!!

Water cascades down your back, working to release the muscle tension. Groaning, you let the water burn your skin, trying to wash away the day's activities. Since you needed to be with your husband. 

It was easy to sneak past him as he laid out in bed, the cold French air licking your skin. He's gorgeous when he's asleep. The way his cross necklace sits on his chest, hating how you love the chest hairs curling around it. Dirty blonde hair, the color of wet sand, plastered to his forehead. His skin, kissed by the sun, is rippled with muscle due to his job. 

You knew he was asleep naked, the way the cover was showing off the happy trail and not stopping, his bare hip displayed. Everything in you screamed to just forget the shower and join him in bed. But, he wouldn't appreciate you ruining the expensive and handpicked Egyptian cotton sheets. Everything in your villa was handpicked and designed by him. He took pride in the home the two of you had built, hating when you dragged work through it. 

So, the shower had won to save from your husband's gripping and pouting. A pressure at your back has you whipping around, placing an antique shaving razor on the person's carotid. "Move, and you're fucking dead." You hiss. "Péché." A groggy French accent has you moving the weapon quickly. "Oh, oh my Yeux bleus. I'm so sorry." Terror and regret clenching your chest. 

You'd just raised a weapon to the person you swore never to hurt, and his eyes softened. "Hey....it's okay. You didn't hurt me." Placing a delicate kiss on your forehead. "I heard the water running and figured it was you." Your husband whispers, reaching behind you and turning the water off. "Where'd you fly off to this time?" Pressing the shower door open, he grabs your towel, taking his time to dry you off. Placing whispers of kisses on your skin here and there. 

"Shanghai. Had work and to acquire something for my Yeux bleus." You smile when he kisses the inside of your thigh, nipping at it. "You need to stop buying me stuff." Lashes fluttering, his nose bumping you. Fuck, his lips were so close to his goal that it was hard to concentrate on your words. 

"So? I wanna spoil my baby. Pierre, you've earned it." Smirking as you watch his eyes dart back and forth from your pussy to your eyes. "I have?" You are no longer talking about the gift you've bought him. "Of course, you've been so good for me. Besides, I figured you could use a nice treat to help you throughout the race." Pierre chuckles, his tongue sticking out, flattens it. 

Legs twitch when his tongue splits your lips apart, hand digging into those strands of hair. Moving his tongue from front to back, you whine, his teeth grazing your clit. Pulling away, lips already glistening from your juices, his tongue cleans them off, smirking. 

"Come here." You gasp when Pierre scoops you up like nothing, pulling the towel off and heading to the bedroom. "What are you doing?" Laying you on your back, his eyes clear as day. How blue they were, you could drown in them. "If I'm going to eat my wife out, I will do it properly." 

Sliding down, lips leaving burns on your skin from how feverish you burned. "And that means," He lifts both your legs, hooking them over his shoulders. "I'm going to have you shaking and leave you swollen and achy." Biting your lip, you hate the way he can take control from you.

"Okay." Pierre smiles, his head dips down, and a moan is torn from your throat, back arching. The sounds of his lips and tongue devouring you, your gasps and cries fill the still night. Pierre's hands hold your hips, feeling how you twist and arch, trying to escape. "Pierre....oh, right there." His teeth bite your clit gently, not enough to hurt but to send a wave of pleasure through you.  

Pierre chuckles as he works his tongue carefully and is drawn out. Arching your back up, you whimper, pulling at his hair. "Fuck, mmm." You whimper as you feel that bundle of nerves crawl up your stomach and to your throat. "Come for me, my gorgeous girl." With one last nip, your muscles tighten as you come undone by his mouth, feeling your heart shudder to a stop. 

Pierre slows down his tongue, pulling you down from your high slowly but delicately, almost like he'd hurt you if he went any faster. "Fuck, I think you deserve a treat." You tease; Pierre chuckles and moves up, devouring your mouth in a passionate kiss that has your toes curling. "A treat, you say," He whispers, pecking your lips as he lies down next to you, arms pulling you into his chest. 

"Yes? I want to spoil you some more. How about you pick out a gorgeous mountain house during Christmas break? I'll buy it. Say, an anniversary gift?" Pierre mulls it over and blushes at the thought. "I'd like that." Lips curling up, you move so his head can rest on your chest. "Perfect, start looking so I can buy it and have the cash on hand." 

-----------------------------------------

"She's scary," Yuki whispers as he watches you fix your deep wine-red lipstick. It was rare for you to be at a GP, and when you were, the others barely saw you. But Pierre had begged you, and with 2 orgasms later, here you were, sitting under the Italian sun. 

"She's not scary, Yuki," Charles grumbles, but he doesn't even know his best friend's wife well. It was odd not knowing who Pierre was married to. Not knowing where they lived, Charles knew Pierre lavished you with rare gifts. "She is. I said hello, and she looked me up and down like she wanted to step or eat me." He whispered and hid behind Charles's back when your sunglass-covered eyes landed on them. 

"Charles," Your accent drawls out his name, and the Ferrari driver stiffens as those lips curl into a cat-like smirk. "Mrs. Gasly." He curses himself for not remembering your name, but you seem content with his reply. "Good luck today," Is all you say as you stand, towering over him almost in your heels as you walk off. Not before two men stroll past and join you at your hip. 

"Yeux bleus?" You call out sweetly, looking for your husband. You find him with some reporters and stop short. Cursing, you throw on your sunglasses, hoping they don't catch any pictures of you. The last thing you needed was for the Italian Mafia to see you here. Stepping back, you notice that Pierre smiles at you gently and moves to cover your form. 

"We just heard you purchased a new house in the Swiss Alps. Gift for that wife of yours?" You tense at the question, hearing the venom and condescension in the reporter's voice. You wanted to rip his throat out for speaking to him like that. Pierre just smiles brightly and nods. "Yeah, it's an anniversary gift. We're delighted and can't wait to spend our holiday there." Pierre smiles brightly, and it hurts your heart. 

You sometimes wished he had married someone else. Someone could stand in the sun next to him instead of constantly hiding in the shadows. Pierre never cared. Honestly, he knew somewhat of what you did and the reason for you hiding, but beyond that, he didn't press. "Yes, but we know you're an F1 driver, but she's unemployed. How could you afford that house?" The reporter pressed on, and you could see the slight waver in Pierre's smile. 

"I work hard to spoil my wife. Do you have any questions about my racing now?" The reports raise their voices to get your husband's attention. Smiling, you drop it when you feel a presence join you. "Your Yeux bleus is quite good at handling the media. You, on the other hand. Have got some balls." The Southern Italian accent is vital in your ear and scuff at his bravery. 

"Yes, I do have balls. They're much larger than yours and sitting on my chest." You spit back, rapid-fire Italian, as you turn to face the second in command to the Mafia. "Leave me the fuck alone; I'm here for pleasure, not business. " The man grunts and presses up against you. Without thinking, you move quick and shove a knife into his crotch and cover his mouth. 

"Scream, I fucking dare you too." You seeth, hoping no one can hear you two. "Cunt," You twist the knife as he whimpers like a baby. "Tell your boss that if you ever, and I mean ever, come near me and my baby again, I'll take both your dicks." You quickly shove him off. Looking down at your outfit and hands, you curse and head for privacy. "Boss," One of your men runs up, but you shrug them off. 

"Protect Pierre. I'm sure there might be more of them around. Tell him I'm just freshening up if he's looking for me. The heat is ruining my makeup or something like that." He nods his head and rushes to join your husband's side. Walking into the private bathroom, you sigh as you wash your hands, watching the blood come off. "Can't even be here without spilling some blood." You whisper, feeling that self-hatred blooms in your chest. 

Pierre only ever asked one thing. Don't do work at his work. He could understand, but this time it was you who reacted when you could have easily just drugged the man instead of taking his jewels. "Mrs. Gasly, your husband is about to race." Sighing, you change into one of his shirts tucked into your pants and head out, sliding the thick sunglasses back on. 

Pierre is seen arguing with the bodyguard as he tries to move the guard steps in front of him. "Yeux bleus?" Pierre relaxes upon hearing those words and quickly gathers you in his arms. "I couldn't find you, thought you left." He whimpers, and you hate that you give him this anxiety. Sometimes, he does wake, and you are gone, without a trace or word, and not back for days, even weeks. 

"I'm still here, always." "Not always," It was a low jab, one probably deserved as he rested his cheek in the palm of your hand. "I know. Work keeps me busy." Pierre snorts but refuses to fight about this now. "Just promise me one thing?" He asks, you squint your eyes but nod. 

"Anything," You mean that you'd give him the fucking sun if he asked. "Leave that world, come back to the light for me?" Your face drops, and you step back, shaking your head. "No, if I leave, I can't protect you. Go race, we'll talk later." Pierre's baby blue eyes turn to a dark and stormy grey. "Yeah, right," Biting your tongue, knowing if you were in the privacy of your home, you'd have him being a whimpering begging mess for your forgiveness. 

Watching Pierre climb into the car, and soon the race starts, you stay back, watching as he works his way up the field and into a good position. 

"Boss, sorry but," You sigh, holding up your hand, knowing what he was about to say would ruin this. "Where are we going?" The guy makes a noise and shows you the phone. A text in angry Estonian. "Fuckkkkk," You loved Estonia but now you'd want nothing more than to stay. But you couldn't. 

"Alright, let's go home." Turning back, you nod to the guard that stays with Pierre. No words are needed as he'd explain everything to your husband for you. "We could always stay," Your guard whispers, and you see the silent plea for you to stay, knowing this would result in a huge fight later. "No, I have work. He understands." Walking to the car, you climb in, hearing the roar of the engines and the fading sound of the crowd. 

"He'll understand," You say to no one, leaving it in the air as a silent pray. But Pierre wouldn't understand, not this time. 

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #formula one #f1 scenario #mafia!f1 #pierre fluff #pierre gasly #pierre gasly f1 #f1 pierre gasly #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 angst #f1 fluff #pierre gasly angst

[fourtyforever]

Get in losers were making a fic rec masterlist

Hi y’all it’s me, your local multishipper, and I’m about to be the change I wish to see in the world by putting all the best f1 fics in one place.

Maxiel

cool things to say to your soulmate by @powerful-owl (E, 14k)

A collection of shorter soulmate stories by the great em powerfulowl. Essentially the maxiel thesis as far as I’m concerned. If you ever catch me talking about the goose fic, this is what I’m talking about. Fun story: this was actually the first F1 rpf I ever read and I blame it for why my standards are so fantastically high.

Thursday girl by @boxboxlewis (M, 3k)

Max is outed by the press. Shocking emotional impact to word ratio and off the charts tenderness. Short and sweet and low key a comfort read to me.

the being unknown by anonymous (E, 12k)

Body swap with really unique and emotional vibes. Ngl this one hurt me (in the best way). A fantastic and heart-wrenching take on the horrors of 2022.

Charlos

win or lose (it’s how you play the game) by @f1-stuff (E, 18k)

Hickey bet between charles and carlos. Cannot get over this fic for as long as I live: the silliness is off the charts, the vibes are literally the most perfectly balanced tenderhorny I’ve ever read and the writing is just really that good. I think about this fic minimum once a day.

last night by venerat (E, 24k)

College au. Ngl this one is just especially spicy, but also very very funny and fully captivating top to bottom (see what I did there? haha). Also a great ensemble cast here, which I always love.

Once more (before we die) by @f1-stuff (M, 6k)

Fantasy AU where charlos are princes of warring kingdoms. I love this AU and I love the tenderness between Charles and Carlos that we get out of it. I’m usually not really an AU type of gal but this one really did change my mind.

Playing games by @vegasgrandprix (T, 4K)

Gay chicken. WIP, but I can already tell so clearly exactly where this is going and that is delightful to me. Honestly this really is how they act like 90% of the time already.

Yukierre

match made in heaven by venerat (T, 4K)

Pierre is yuki’s matchmaker. this one is just so sweet and sooooo silly. Comfort read 100%

Loscar

Are they gay or European? (the answer is both) by periwinkle_bumper_cars (T, 30k)

Logan keeps walking in on other drivers in compromising positions. 100% balls to the wall silliness from beginning to end and just completely delightful the whole time. Background carlando, kmag/hulkenberg, brocedes, maxiel, and honestly the ensemble cast is what takes this one from great to top tier.

Landoscar

By a thread by @mctwinkdom (E, 32k)

The classic Australian thongs misunderstanding (gone sexual). Incredibly silly, amazingly hot and honestly a top-tier character study of both Oscar and Lando. A great study in unreliable narration as well (probably part of what accounts for my previous point).

carried away by orphan account (E, 22k)

Fake dating. Honestly this one got me in my feels so much more than I expected from the premise. Sweet and a little bit angsty and just a delightful read all the way down.

Strollonso

green light, red wine (and I don’t feel fine) by @vicsy (E, 19k)

Mafia AU where lance is the son of Fernando’s arch nemesis. THEE strollonso fic of all time I tell you. Unparalleled characterization on the part of both nando and lance, fantastic ensemble cast, FANTASTIC writing, and off the charts unreal spiciness. If you haven’t read this yet then what are you doing

El dick plan by @waddlingpenguin (E, 800)

Lance says ‘daddy,’ both Fernando and Lawrence answer. Short, sweet and SILLY.

camera roll by @penaltyboxboxbox (E, 5k)

Sexting/sex tapes. Overall nice and spicy and just fantastic characterization. Also absolutely crucial is the companion art also by dave penaltyboxboxbox which is literally like the ice cream on top of the cake for such a wonderful fic

silver platter by @wewentcarracing (E, 10k)

getting together fic featuring long suffering estie bestie. Honestly the fic is amazing and spicy and just so well written but Esteban’s ever growing dismay is lowkey my favorite part. Works as a pretty great lance character study as well.

Brocedes

Roseberg’s vs haminkton by @jean----ralphio (E, 16k)

Tattoo artist versus flower shop, except they’re rivals. This is like…just how they are honestly. Absolutely stunning ensemble cast and absolutely hilarious buildup to lewis and Nico finally getting together. Side order of seb just being a massive shit stirrer which honestly I think is the role he belongs in

The real reason nico rosberg retired by periwinkle_bumper_cars (G, 3k)

Secret Santa (gone horribly wrong). This is…..also just how they are unfortunately. The rancidest of vibes but also screeching-out-loud funny.

will be updating this on the reg so stay tuned for more good fics. also maybe if I am very lucky someday I will have my own fics to add to the list. definitely I need to become slightly more insane before I can start writing for this fandom but believe you me I’m well on my way.

#fic rec #f1 fic rec #maxiel #charlos #yukierre #loscar #landoscar #twinklaren #strollonso #brocedes #hope you all enjoy :P

[daisybianca]

pairing: lewis hamilton x yn

summary: lewis is kind of a mafia type of guy here, but he still remains the best f1 driver in history with 8 championships (!). mafia means that he kinda kills people. he's always hot put now he is double hot. idk if that's even possible, but anyway. you're his girl, and he sees that someone made a bruise on your hand. spoiler alert: i doesn't end well for the guilty man.

warnings: lots of cursing words, sexual actions, mentions of death, etc

(a/n): it is written in 1 pov, from his point of view. though it couldn't get any hotter? nah, it can.

WHEN I UNLOCK my mansion's door and come see my girlfriend crying, three completely different options pass through my mind.

One. Killing someone.

Two. Making someone regret.

Three. Doing both of those after kissing my woman's tears until the don't exist anymore.

I rush to her on the couch, not even bothering to shut the door behind me. "What happened, baby?" I get on my knees and try to hold her close to me. She doesn't meet my gaze. She's hidden her face behind her little hands, but I can still take a glimpse of her scorching hot, red cheeks. "Hey, y/n, talk to me." I try to persuade her, even though it seems impossible.

"P-please," she stutters, and something dark and colorful captures my attention on her left wrist.

Fuck.

It's a bruise. A fucking bruise. A huge one to be exact.

I try to compose myself. It's not even enough. I think my jawline starts to tremble, and I don't even notice at first. "Y/N," I force her to look at me, forcing her hands away off her beautiful face. Her features are soft but her precious eyes have turned swollen and her lips are tighter than ever. "Who did this to you?" The words come out sharp. I don't even think about them to be honest.

She is my fucking woman. These are the rules. Nobody is allowed to touch her in a way that she doesn't want to. Not even me.

I cup her small face with both my hands. "Who hurt you, baby?"

I hear a soft cry and then she tries to speak again but doesn't manage to do it properly without stuttering.

Fuck, I won't look good in jail clothing.

I bit my lip in order to not lose it just at this fucking moment. My fists become a ball. My girl notices and places her little ones over my hands to stop the shaking.

"Baby, please," I mouth. "Tell me who the bastard is, and I swear, he'll never see sunlight again to touch you." Forcing myself to stand up, in a matter of seconds, I sit on the couch, and she's moved on my lap. I think I'm losing my mind each time she looks at me, and I don't know who to kill. "Just tell me a name, Y/N."

She finally stops crying. Fuck.

My heart jumps each time she attempts to speak but is unable to due to the silent sobs.

A few seconds pass.

A few more, too.

Eventually, I feel a hand pressing on my chest and immediately blood rushes straight to my cock.

Damn it.

Of course, my dick doesn't get the whole situation. It has a whole brain of its one. In fact, we are under hard circumstances right now. And surely, there can't be anything harder than that at the moment.

She hides her face in my neck. I place my hand on the back of it and wait.

I think my blood pressure is on its fucking limits when she turns to face me. "It's my ex." She blurts out suddenly. I want to laugh but I don't.

Oh this fucking bastard again... Though we were done with him by the time I threatened him with his life if he ever got close to my girl again. But he definitely isn't the type of guy loyal to anything. Not to promises, not to threats, not even to his ex-girlfriend.

"He asked to meet me. I said no, but he wouldn't understand. He was waiting outside my place this morning, claiming he'd like to talk. I wanted to get away from him, but he grabbed my arm and..." her voice breaks.

I hold her for a few seconds as the sobs initiate again. Afterward, I get up and make a very important call. Returning, I am very pleased to meet a much-better-looking, without-any-tears woman sitting on the couch and scrolling through her phone.

Noticing me, she looks at me. I try to smile. "He'll be dead till midnight." Sitting next to her, I take her on my lap and kiss the dry tears off her cheeks.

And then I start undressing her, not because my dick is asking for it since one hour ago, but because she seems in the mood for it.

"I just want you to fuck me, Lewis." She says as I press my palm around her neck and spread wet kissing along her breasts. "Fuck me like you hate me."

I smile. "Baby, I could never hate you."

"Just do it for an hour," she moans against my ear. "Please."

I stop to look at her, laughing. "An hour?" I rise my eyebrows. "Love, you underestimate me."

She laughs too, and we're off to upstairs, where one of the mansion's bedrooms is located.

I want to make love to her, truth to be told. Passionate and delicate. But she asked for a rough fuck.

She knows I'm a man capable of doing both. So I proceeded to doing them.

#lewis hamilton fanart #f1 drivers #f1 #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula one #f1 memes #formula 1 memes #formula one oneshot #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton 44 #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fluff #formula one fic #formula 1 one shot #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 smut #f1 smut #f1 fluff #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fluff

[vivwritesfics]

Blurb idea how would carlos react if oscar didnt want to become a mafia boss and instead wanted to become an f1 driver?

Series Masterlist

set during their time at the safehouse, before they find out about the pregnancy

"Is it true that Webber is gonna leave everything to you?" Asked Carlos as he and Oscar sat outside of the safehouse. He had a cigarette between his lips as Oscar sat beside him, just enjoying the fresh air.

Oscar shrugged his shoulders. He'd heard the rumour, sure, that Mark was going to leave the Webber family to him. It would be the Piastri family from then on, with him running it.

"Do you know how I got involved with the Webber family?"

Carlos shook his head. He'd assumed Oscar's entire family was involved with the Webber family, just like it was for most in a mafia family. But this suggested Oscar was different, and Carlos wanted to know more.

"When I was a kid, I really liked karting," said Oscar. "But karting is seriously expensive, and my parents couldn't afford it."

That was all he needed to say and Carlos already knew the story, but he still let Oscar tell it anyway.

"My parents had to go to Mark for the money. And I went pretty far in karting. Like, I won so many competitions, and Mark funded it all. But then I went as far as I could in karting and I still had so much money to pay back."

"You were a boy," said Carlos. "Did your family not help you pay it back?"

Oscar turned towards him, with a look that said 'just wait a minute'. He sighed through his nose and let his head fall against the wall of the safehouse. "They wanted to pay it off for me, but I wouldn't let them. I joined Webber behind their back to pay of the debts that were mine."

Carlos let out a laugh as he stubbed out his cigarette. "When this is all over, I'll let you take me karting," he said. "You wanted to go into Formula One, didn't you?"

Oscar couldn't stop himself from laughing. "Of course I did," he said. "And maybe one day I will."

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa22 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @chonkybonky @shobaes @celesteblack08 @watermelonworries @gracielukey @cassie0sstuff @goldenharrysworld @venusesworld @sparklyperfectionstranger @evans-dejong @graciewrote @formulaal

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader smut #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #cs55 #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #mafia!f1 #mafia!au

[why4anne]

F1 Masterlist

Charles Leclerc:

Series:

Daylight:

Follow the love story of a global pop icon and a monegasque F1 driver

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Money Power Glory:

When you accidentally found yourself in the middle of a mafia show down you had no idea that your life was about to change, forever. For better or for worse.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc #formula one #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1

[nayziiz]

Shadows | LN4

Summary: [Mafia] In the face of dire financial troubles, Lando receives a desperate plea from his father to unearth a lucrative solution within the family business. Fueled by the pressure to rescue his family from ruin, Lando stumbles upon a seemingly perfect venture—using luxury cars as a facade for the clandestine world of drug trafficking. With the unexpected partnership of Amelia Rossi, his father's best friend's daughter, Lando believes he has found the ideal accomplice. However, as the Norris family collides with the ambitious Russells in a ruthless bid to establish their dominance, the perilous path Lando has chosen places not only his newfound enterprise at stake but also entangles Amelia in the dangerous crossfire that unfolds.

Warning: Violence, drugs, blood, smut, fluff, guns

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Amelia Rossi) - appearances from other drivers

Masterlist

Chapter 2

Amelia's father, Harold Rossi, had built his family business with a steadfast commitment to integrity and cleanliness. As the head of the powerful Rossi Enterprise Holdings, he understood the potential profits that could be reaped by engaging in questionable dealings, yet he chose to walk the moral high ground. His priority was his daughter and only child, Amelia, and he went to great lengths to ensure her safety.

Harold Rossi's unwavering commitment to ethical business practices shaped not only the trajectory of his enterprise but also the upbringing of his daughter, Amelia. The rejection of lucrative deals, each one carrying the promise of substantial wealth, left a lingering bitterness in Harold's mouth. Yet, he remained resolute in prioritising the safety and well-being of his only child.

Amelia, in turn, spent countless nights in her teenage years immersed in her father's office. Reading through contracts and listening to recorded business meetings became second nature to her. Every facet of her father's business, every decision made in the pursuit of integrity, became ingrained in her understanding. Harold was moulding her into the future leader of his empire, and she absorbed the knowledge with the diligence of a determined heiress.

Despite her father's faith in her capabilities, scepticism lingered in the eyes of Amelia's mother. A dedicated wife and mother with few personal pursuits, she harboured reservations about Amelia's ability to take the reins of the family business. However, from a tender age, Amelia harboured an unyielding desire for control and power, traits she admired in her father. Her ambition set her on a path to prove her mettle in a world where expectations for women were often limiting.

Upon graduating from university, Harold presented Amelia with a substantial challenge—a small, second-hand car dealership. It was a test, a gesture aimed at allowing her to prove herself in the realm of business. Undeterred, Amelia transformed the modest dealership into a bastion of luxury vehicles, leveraging her business acumen to establish a prominent presence in the London automotive scene.

Everyone who mattered in the city knew Amelia by name, recognizing her as a force to be reckoned with. Her ability to secure coveted vehicles and her extensive network of contacts became legendary. Importantly, she achieved this without seeking her father's assistance, proving that her success at the dealership was a testament to her own entrepreneurial skills.

Lando, in stark contrast to Amelia's focused and specialised approach, had cast his influence across a diverse array of industries. From music to nightclubs, motorsports teams to golf, and electronics to security, Lando's ventures were as eclectic as his charismatic personality. Despite his multifaceted business portfolio, he never forgot the bonds forged during his school years, especially with Amelia.

Upon learning about Amelia's foray into the business world, Lando extended numerous offers to involve her in his ventures. However, Amelia, driven by her determination to prove herself independently, consistently declined his invitations. While she valued his advice and listened to his proposals, she was hesitant to align herself with Lando's expansive empire.

Amelia's reluctance to accept Lando's assistance stemmed from a desire to break free from her father's imposing shadow. The limitations imposed by her familial ties made expanding her business a challenging task. She faced a dilemma – either seek her father's aid, which came with its own set of constraints, or explore alternative means, even if they involved engaging in less-than-savoury deals on the side.

Despite the potential moral complexities, Amelia's decision to embark on a less conventional path was not a compromise of her principles. Rather, it was a testament to her unwavering commitment to proving herself in the fiercely competitive business world. Recognizing her struggle, Lando offered not a handout, but a genuine partnership. Their shared history of navigating rough waters during their school years built a foundation of trust between them.

Lando understood the challenges ahead, aware that Amelia's journey towards expansion would not be without hurdles. However, he believed in her capabilities and resilience. The partnership they forged was built on mutual trust and a shared understanding that success would be hard-earned. Lando's involvement wasn't just about the financial benefits for both parties; it was a commitment to standing by Amelia's side as she ventured into uncharted territories. As Amelia delved into a world beyond her father's confines, she found an ally in Lando who recognized her potential and trusted her instincts.

The pulsating heartbeat of London's nightlife reverberated through the streets as Lando and Amelia emerged from her office in the dealership. Their first shipment to Monte Carlo had been a meticulously planned operation, executed with precision and finesse. The three Ferraris, symbols of luxury and opulence, had been transformed into vessels of secrecy, their interiors carefully packed with the requested cargo. Lando and Amelia had spared no expense in ensuring that every detail was attended to, from the placement of the hidden compartments to the timing of the delivery.

As the cars navigated the labyrinthine streets of Monte Carlo, they moved with the silent grace of phantoms, their sleek exteriors betraying no hint of the valuable cargo concealed within. It was a delicate dance, navigating the bustling city under the cover of darkness, but Lando and Amelia had anticipated every possible obstacle and contingency. Lando’s expertise in the underworld of illicit dealings had served them well, allowing their shipment to evade detection and reach their destination unscathed.

For Lando and Amelia, the success of their first shipment was both a triumph and a relief. It was validation of their skills and capabilities, a testament to their ability to navigate the treacherous waters of the criminal underworld. As they received photos of the Ferraris and their contents safely delivered to their destination, a sense of pride washed over them.

Their destination for celebrations was one of Lando's exclusive clubs nestled in the heart of London's East End. The club, a hidden gem known only to those in the inner circles of London's nightlife, exuded an air of exclusivity and mystery.

As Lando and Amelia made their way through the bustling streets of the East End, the anticipation of the night ahead hung in the air like a palpable energy. The club beckoned to them like a siren's call, its entrance discreetly tucked away from prying eyes, accessible only to those who knew where to look.

Upon arriving at the club, Lando and Amelia were greeted with nods of recognition and whispers of admiration. It was a familiar scene for Lando, who moved through the club with the effortless grace of a seasoned host. Amelia, though less accustomed to the spotlight, found herself drawn into the whirlwind of excitement and energy that surrounded them.

Inside, the club was a symphony of lights and sounds, the air alive with the pulsating rhythm of music and laughter. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the promise of a night filled with revelry and indulgence.

Lando's gaze swept across the crowded dance floor until it settled on Zara, perched gracefully at the bar, a vision of elegance amidst the pulsating lights and swirling colours. She sipped delicately on a pink cocktail, her slender fingers wrapped around the glass with effortless poise. With her long, lithe frame and striking features, she exuded an aura of confidence and allure that was impossible to ignore.

As Lando approached, a smile playing on his lips, Zara turned to greet him with a warmth that matched her beauty. Their exchange was easy and familiar. But as Amelia joined them, her insecurities threatened to overshadow the moment for her.

Standing alongside Zara, the contrast between them was stark. Where Zara was tall and statuesque, Amelia felt small and insignificant. Where Zara exuded an air of effortless glamour, Amelia couldn't help but feel plain and ordinary by comparison.

The unease that had been simmering beneath the surface threatened to boil over as Lando's attention shifted between the two women. Despite her best efforts to maintain her composure, Amelia couldn't shake the nagging sense of inadequacy that gnawed at her from within.

Amelia found herself in an all-too-familiar situation, struggling to connect with Zara as they sat together at the bar. Despite her best efforts, the conversation between them faltered, stumbling over the awkward silences that hung heavy in the air.

It wasn't for lack of trying on Amelia's part. She searched desperately for common ground, grasping at straws in an attempt to bridge the gap between them. But try as she might, she couldn't shake the feeling that she and Zara were worlds apart, their lives and interests diverging in ways that seemed insurmountable.

Zara, with her effortless charm and easy confidence, seemed to effortlessly navigate the social dynamics of the club. She was surrounded by admirers, her laughter ringing out like a melody in the crowded room. In contrast, Amelia felt like an outsider, a solitary figure adrift in a sea of unfamiliar faces.

As the night wore on, the gulf between them widened, each passing moment serving as a painful reminder of their differences. They had nearly nothing in common to speak about, no shared experiences or interests to bond over. Try as she might, Amelia couldn't shake the feeling that she didn't belong in Zara's world, a world of beauty and glamour that felt foreign and inaccessible.

In the midst of the chaos and noise of the club, Amelia couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness. She longed for the easy companionship of her male friends, for the camaraderie and understanding that came so naturally to her in their presence. But with Zara, she felt like an outsider, an intruder in a world that she could never truly be a part of.

As Lando and Zara slipped away to dance together, leaving Amelia alone at the bar, a wave of loneliness washed over her. She watched them disappear into the crowd, their laughter and easy banter a painful reminder of her own insecurities.

Taking a seat at the bar, Amelia felt the weight of her solitude pressing down on her shoulders. She longed for the familiar presence of Charles, one of few people who had always seen her for who she truly was, flaws and all. In his absence, she couldn't help but feel adrift, lost in a sea of uncertainty and doubt.

Closing her eyes, she summoned memories of their time together, the moments of laughter and connection that had anchored her in times of turmoil. Charles had a way of making her feel seen and valued, of reminding her of her own brilliance even when she struggled to see it herself.

As she nursed her drink, Amelia couldn't shake the nagging sense of inadequacy that plagued her. She knew she was capable of so much more than she gave herself credit for, but in that moment, surrounded by the glittering lights and pulsating music of the club, it was easy to lose sight of her own worth.

With a heavy sigh, Amelia wished that Charles was there beside her, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of her emotions. She longed for his reassuring words and gentle touch, the reminder that she was enough just as she was.

But as the night wore on and the music swelled around her, Amelia knew that she would have to find the strength to face her insecurities on her own. She couldn't rely on Charles or anyone else to validate her worth; she had to find it within herself.

As Lando returned to find Amelia at the bar, a sense of relief washed over him. The weight of their successful shipment lifted from his shoulders, replaced by a buoyant euphoria that seemed to permeate the very air around them. The liberating effects of alcohol only served to enhance the surreal glow of the night in Monaco. Leaning against the bar beside Amelia, Lando raised his half-empty glass of champagne in a toast.

“To successful partnerships.” he declared, the words carrying a weight of gratitude and accomplishment.

Amelia smiled, her eyes sparkling with pride. She clinked her glass against Lando's, the sound echoing through the bustling atmosphere of the bar.

“And to keeping secrets.” he added with a sly grin.

Dazed and enveloped in the euphoria of their success, Lando leaned in and pressed a reassuring kiss against Amelia's cheek, a silent acknowledgment of their shared triumph. For a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still as they savoured the warmth of the moment, the weight of their unspoken bond hanging in the air between them.

But as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and Lando disappeared once more into the swirling crowd of revellers. Amelia watched him go, a sense of exhaustion washing over her like a tidal wave. The day's tension had taken its toll, leaving her feeling drained and in need of solitude.

Without a word, Amelia slipped quietly out of the club, her footsteps echoing against the pavement as she made her way into the cool night air. She didn't look back, her mind consumed with thoughts of rest and respite.

As she disappeared into the darkness, leaving Lando and Zara to continue their own celebrations, Amelia couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that lingered in her heart. It wasn't jealousy or resentment that plagued her, but a sense of loneliness that seemed to settle over her like a heavy cloak.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #mclaren #mclaren f1 #lando norris x oc #mafia!f1 #mafia!au #f1 #f1 driver x oc

[elisysd]

2. Square one, my slate is clear

Masterlist - Previoulsy - Next

Soundtrack: Square One - Caamp

He was relieved to not see you around the paddock in Saudi Arabia. If he was being honest, he wouldn’t have been able to handle your comments on his penalty and probably would have snapped. He was pissed off enough because of that and snapping wouldn’t help him. He didn't need that. Ferrari didn’t need that. Even though his race was okay, he was feeling frustrated. Frustrated over a car that he was trying to push way too much, a team that was not really listening to him, beside Fred with whom he had a very close relationship with and who at times, felt like the only trustworthy person around him.

Once he was done with his duties he finally managed to find his brother, Arthur, in hope of congratulating him for his P8. He hadn’t had the time to see him before his F2 race and he felt a bit guilty about it. He had always made sure he would be there for him no matter what and he couldn't handle letting him down, even if deep down he knew it wouldn’t even cross Arthur’s mind. He met him in the Ferrari’s hospitality as he was talking to their big brother, Lorenzo.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to be there for you.” Charles apologized, taking Arthur in his arms.

“It’s fine. I’m glad, P8 is not that bad and I’ll be able to keep on improving.”

“Still. I promised I would always watch your races and here I am already failing.”

“You’re not failing. You have things going on and places to be. It’s okay, I understand. and I know where to find you if I need you.”

“You know that I’ll always be there for you, right? No matter what.” Charles insisted.

“I know. Maybe there is something you could help me with?”

“Of course. Tell me.”

“I still have to get used to the media and to the interviews. I had a long one with a journalist from French TV and I was so nervous that I think I stuttered a bit.”

Charles saw red. Immediately.

“Did she tell you her name?” he asked, so urgently that it earned him a weird look from both of his brothers.

“Y/N. But, that’s okay, she was very laid back and made sure I was at ease, she was nice. Very nice and she even joked to make me feel better. And she is very pretty.” he added, glancing at Charles who had heard only half of his answer, focused on the fact that you might have tried to play with Arthur.

“You should tell your team to not let her be near you, she has something against me and I don’t want her to get you as leverage to hurt me.”

“Have you heard yourself? She is a journalist, not part of the damn mafia!” Arthur argued in disbelief.

“Still. Be careful.”

“I don’t see how such a cute and nice girl could be so dangerous.” Arthur mumbled as Lorenzo looked at the F1 driver, amused.

“Don’t start to develop a crush on her, you have a girlfriend.”

“She's not my type. She is more yours.” Arthur playfully joked as Charles glared at him.

“Not you too. First Silvia, now you, it has to stop. No girls for me this year, I need to focus on the championship…. and I really mean it. My career first. Ferrari is a sinking ship, I need to be one hundred percent focused on it.”

He chose to ignore the looks on his brothers’ faces. He was serious, dating was out of the equation, he had too much work, too many things to do. He could try casual dating but it was not his thing. So if he had to swear on celibacy for the time being, then so be it. He saw Arthur about to reply but thankfully, Fred had just entered the room, a smile on his face. He patted Charles on the shoulders, briefly congratulated Arthur for his race and asked Lorenzo how he was doing, before announcing that he had planned a little dinner between the team in a nice restaurant to relax and bond after the weekend. Charles was about to say that he was not in the mood to socialize but quickly avoided it when he saw the hard gaze of his team principal. He wouldn’t offer him a way out on this one.

Charles found himself sitting in a very fancy but at the same time intimate setting, next to Carlos, and in a nice and laid back atmosphere. It was nice. He felt like he could finally relax and enjoy himself a little bit. He was joking with Xavi when, from the corner of his eyes he saw a group of people entering the restaurant. It didn’t take long for Charles to notice you immediately, somehow standing out, for a reason he couldn’t exactly pinpoint. And as if you were feeling his eyes on your skin, you turned your head in his direction meeting his blue-green orbs. He saw you raising an eyebrow, almost defying him before nodding your head, in order to greet him. As you were taking your seat, Charles couldn’t help but keep on staring at your figure. You were wearing a tight black dress, your hair in a more elaborate ponytail than the one you were usually wearing in the paddock. Arthur was right, you were pretty. Even more than that if he had to be honest with himself. You were stunning. But he knew that you would be even more if you were not as insufferable.

He felt distracted, more than he should be. Your mere presence was enough to make his skin itching and his legs bouncing. It was stupid, he knew it, it was not like you were about to jump on him to harass him with your questions. But he was suddenly mindful of his movements, of the way he was holding his fork, of the way he was chewing on his steak, of the napkin on his lap and of the weird looks Fred and Andrea were giving him. From the corner of his eyes, he couldn’t help but watch you in a way he hoped was not too obvious. It was just little side glances, here and there. You looked happy, at ease, closer to the portrayal Arthur depicted of you than the one Charles had faced. He looked at the people surrounding you. Jean, Marion… the team that was on the Grand Prix. He knew them well, he was even happy to call Jean his friend. Always there outside of the tracks when he needed someone to talk to. His gaze lingered on you a bit longer than necessary. You were oddly fitting with them. You were laughing, expressing yourself with your hands, a bright smile on your  face, the one that was making your cheeks hurt. You looked younger when you acted like that, he thought. Far away from the ruthless girl he had met and was asking him petty questions. He started to doubt. Maybe, after all, the problem was coming from him, maybe he was somehow responsible for your cold attitude towards him. Maybe he had met you in the past and had acted like an ass to you and that’s why you didn’t seem to be able to give him the time of the day. As if his feet had a mind on their own, he got up and walked to your table. He saw your surprised face when he stood right next to you and didn’t miss the sigh of annoyance you breathed in his direction.

“Charles! We didn’t see you!” Jean exclaimed, putting a hand on the Ferrari driver's shoulder.

“Yeah, I saw you and I was debating on whether or not I should come by. I didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

“How are you doing? The penalty was harsh but you managed to race well.”

“Yeah, it was impressive.” Marion admitted.

“Thanks guys. It was a tough race.” he humbly said, his eyes glued to your figure who was suddenly finding your chocolate cake very interesting.

Unfortunately for you, it suddenly seemed quite evident that Charles wasn’t going anywhere. He had suddenly taken a chair and was sitting next to Marion and right beside you. You could still smell his sandalwood aftershave hitting your nostrils. And when you felt his knee slightly brushing yours, you jumped.

“I’m sorry, I forgot that it’s my friend’s birthday tonight and I forgot to call her. Don’t wait for me.” you apologized, almost running away from the table.

Minutes passed and when it became clear that the door would keep on being closed, Charles decided to go searching for you. He went back quickly to his table to gather his things and say goodbyes before going outside. You were there, staring straight ahead of you, not even blinking or flinching when he approached. But Charles didn’t fail to notice the goosebumps on your skin and your slight shiver.

“Are you okay?” he asked, unsure but was met with only silence from your side. “It’s rude to not reply, you know?”

It finally made you look at him, your eyes staring right in his, still silent. Charles started to feel frustrated, he wanted to hear your voice, anything that could break the uncomfortable silence that had fallen down on both of you.

“Feeling less confident without a mic? You can’t hide anymore. It’s you and me, fighting like equals. No cameras, nothing.”

“I didn’t think you were nice.” You finally blurted out, throwing him off of his feet. “You… you have such a polished image, so neat, so…perfect. Never a word higher than the others. Always a nice smile and a word for everyone. So gentlemanly. No one is ever this kind and polite, I thought it was just a facade, that you must hide something. Because, surely, you can’t be that perfect.” You explained and Charles let out a sigh of relief.

“Well… that’s a very sad thought to have. I wonder what kind of assholes you must have met to have this view of the world. I’m not perfect, far from it, but I like to think that I’m a decent human being.”

“You would be surprised by the amount of not so nice people I’ve met these past few years.”

“Yeah?”

“I attract assholes.”

“I’m sure it’s not true.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. You’re here, no?” you half smiled and Charles knew it was an attempt at a joke. A poor one.

“Well, maybe I could show you that not all people are assholes.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” you asked.

“What about starting from scratch?” he explained, extending his hand in your direction. “I’m Charles. What about you?”

Author's note: There is a little progress. Tiny, baby, little steps, but hey! You seriously didn't think I woud make it easy for them?

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

If you wanna be part of the taglist, let me know.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @thirstylion @cmleitora @charizznorizz @sltwins @boherahpsody

#charles leclerc 16 #formula 1 #writing #fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x oc #charles leclerc fanfic #cl16 #scuderia ferrari #ferrari #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc fic #f1 x reader #cl16 x reader #driver x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc

[ln4world]

HIDDEN TREASURE LN4

"only love makes you that crazy sweetheart, and that damn stupid." 

where the treasure they have been looking for is hidden right under their noses in plain sight. but will they follow their orders?

summary: mafia!lando x fem!oc, where lando norris and elena toffolo meet and have undeniable chemistry - but their secrets that they keep threaten to show.

warnings: 18+, smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of death, drugs. any other warnings will be posted.

face claim: f1 drivers - themselves.

elena - dina denoire

a/n: my first lando fic, I am so excited.

#lando x reader #lando norris social media au #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris #mclaren f1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #ferrari #lewis hamilton #charles leclerc #red bull f1 #mercedes amg f1 #formula racing #ln4 fic #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 x reader #oscar piastri #ln4 #mclaren