do you ever lie in bed and listen to gang of youths sing “ricciardo is racing” on full blast or are you normal?
i sang it out loud of the bus yesterday, albeit quietly, and a guy in front of me turned and said ‘not for much longer’
that man can die.
models should be grateful charles leclerc chose to be a driver
amen
read all other parts on my masterlist 🫶
okay so writers block kicked my arse but i’m back. hi. this chapter has it all. smut, fluff, angst. we stan an emotional rollercoaster. n e wayz bon appetite, enjoy, lemme know what you think/what you wanna see from this fic going forward!!
in which it’s perfect, until reality kicks in and it isn’t anymore.
warnings: 18+!! minors stay back!! smut, ANGST, fluff, language, someone gets called a slut in a not hot way, an i am stupid-esque moment
6.1k words
no sorry why... why did this make me cry??? am i ok??? do i need help??? masterpiece. the end. thank you. goodnight.
>some good ol' workplace tension<
a/n: this has been in my drafts half written for literal months and I'm desperately trying to will Pierre back into some points so I decided to finish it, also yeah I couldn't help myself here sorry also the other half was written literally between the hours of 7 and 10:30 tonight so oops enjoy HELLA UNEDITED
gif creds to owner :)
Warnings: 18+ smut, protected sex(at what cost?), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, choking, Pierre gets called dadd- [GUNSHOTS], cross necklace sucking(nah please what was I thinking)ooh Pierre is getting off on the idea that reader is cheating but she isn't, foul language, degrading language, L O L thats it methinks
“I’d like you two to work together.”
The words coming from your boss’ mouth were incredibly easy to hear, the phonetics and vibrations floating through the air and into your ears with razor sharp precision. But could you comprehend them? Absolutely not. Never in a million years could you work with Pierre Gasly; the grade A asshole who had an affinity for social ladder climbing and corporate law like you’d never seen.
i can’t breathe, IMMACULATE
read part 1: upper hand ✨here✨ read part 2: unfinished business ✨here✨ read part 3: something about him ✨here✨
hello it is me, president of the george thirst fan club 🫶 this man is my one singular thought so here is part 4. i think this is gonna have more parts bc i’m enjoying writing him so much he’s so sexy i’m crying
in which george takes you on a date
warnings: 18+!! SMUT SMUT ITS ALL SMUT BEWARE!! ehehe, a bit of fluff too for once lol
3.5k words
INSANE! art, masterpiece, i’m reeling
Author: there’s something about lando that inspires me to write for him
Summary: in which she makes a new acquaintance through her roommate…
Warnings: smut, filth, +18, if you’re uncomfortable with it don’t read it
this shit is fuckin good
currently writing a lil mick oneshot, who wants a preview 👀
word count: 2.1k
summary: loosely based off of Cate’s Brother by Maisie Peters
warnings: book a dentist appointment before reading this as your teeth will rot from all this fluff.
notes: i have not written in years and have never written anything f1 related so this is seriously out of my comfort zone. please enjoy, any feedback is so appreciated! so close for mick again today but it’ll happen soon i know it! also, i imagine esteban grabbing mick like that in this fic so please enjoy this adorable visualisation :)
I hadn’t seen Gina in what seemed like forever. So, when she called saying she had some free time I jumped at the opportunity to invite her to the costume party I was throwing at my home. She had mentioned something about her brother and some friends having some time off for summer as well, so I obviously extended the invite to them.
Gina and I had met on an exchange as teens. Regardless of the fact that she was a few years older, we immediately bonded for life after a particularly messy evening exploring our exchange town. We were out a little later than curfew and decided to scale a wall to get back to our host home. Let’s say it wasn’t smooth sailing and we landed in a bush. It still makes me laugh to this day.
currently writing a lil mick oneshot, who wants a preview 👀
>flashbacks in the supermarket<
a/n: lol. lmao. hashtag sorry not sorry
🎵Heavy - Orla Gartland🎵
gif creds to owner :)
Warnings: mostly angst, slight smut in one of the flashbacks, excessive mentions of alcohol sorry guys I’ve never been broken up with so my research was romcoms😩😩
No milk.
No alcohol either, so that was obviously the priority.
A heavy sigh left your lips and filled the empty fridge in front of you, visible condensation laughing at the building inability to look after yourself. “Wine, yeah, that sounds good” you said to no one in particular, painfully aware of your pairing with the apartment’s four lonely walls.
this was RUDE. amazing, but RUDE.
Pierre Gasly x Reader
Summary: Pierre giving the new media girl the wildflowers he picked for her, at least trying to.
warnings: Fluff, Language, mention of nudity/Smuttish shit.
Word count: 2827 words
Authors note: Someone mentioned they wanted to see Pierre give her the flowers and I was inspired, so enjoy :D
Part 1: Wildflowers
______________________________________________________________
“Did you see Charles Leclerc’s Instagram story!” your friend whisper shouted at you as you were taking some photos of the few drivers that had arrived at the lunch.
“No, because I’m working, which you should be doing” you didn’t even stop taking photos as you answered.
“It’s of Pierre literally handpicking wildflowers, I wonder who he was picking them for” she asked seemingly no one, clearly swooning over the handsome driver.
You didn’t bother answering, you didn’t think you could. That awful feeling starting in the pit of your stomach. A weird mixture of jealousy and hurt mixing round in your head.
No, you couldn’t feel this way, you had no right, you barely knew him. You’d only hung out a few times at work, although you don’t remember the last time you got along with someone as easily as you did him. Plus, why on earth would the Pierre Gasly ever pick flowers for some ‘no-one media girl’ like you. No, you just need to get over it and be professional when you see him, and realistically avoid him as much as possible because there was no way you could face him now, feeling stupid for your feelings.
“Can we just get back to work please?” you moved over to where Sebastian and Mick were engaged in a conversation on the outdoor deck, overlooking the gorgeous countryside. The fans were going to love this kind of content between the two, and you just needed to distract yourself from the pain you were feeling. Hopefully he would be happy though right?
the energy of this is absolutely immaculate
preword: inspired by the taylor swift song of the same name! type: oneshot pairing: lando norris x singer!reader. word count: 2k summary: y/n cleans up after her annual new year's party, and a familiar face stays to lend a hand. requested: nope. warnings/mood: mentions of alcohol, mild language, a little sad and retrospective but gets happy at the end. notes: such a good song, some phrases are taken from it. let's pretend covid doesn't exist in this one. i'm also taking requests!
hi this is beautiful thank you moving on
>absence makes the heart grow fonder<
a/n: barking for this man.
🎵Jack Harlow - Luv Is Dro (feat. Static Major & Bryson Tiller)🎵
gif creds to owner :)
Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected sex(in Milan tho), semi-public (?) fingering, choking, dirty talk, me being in heat for Max
“You’re not gonna last without me for ten weeks,” your breath was barely above a whisper as you tried to concentrate on the riveting conversation at hand, rather than the trail of Max’s fingers from the inside of your thigh to the lace detailing of your panties. “You’re gonna have withdrawal symptoms.”
CANNOT DEAL CANNOT BREATHE
pairing: lando norris x reader word count: 4.1k words. (and i had promised myself that they were going to be just short fics)request: yes/noby @frenchyjuju: "heyyy, i saw that your asks were open and saw this 18. “you come here often?” “well considering i work here, yes.” and i think it could be both funny and fluffy with either lando or charles whomever you prefer :) have a great day and a great week." thank you so much, i loved writing this and was saving it for the right fic<3 & an anon: "bestie, think of this: lando fic based on 18 by one direction 📝" i tried my best, bestie prompt: friend(s) date from this prompt list. & fluff #18: "you come here often?" "well, considering i work here, yes."" from this prompt list warnings: language, kinda slow burn, time skip, character death (mentions only). i think that's it. a/n: like i said, i have no self-control and completely rewrote this in like three hours. also, you get this one a bit earlier because i wanted to make sure that this showed up in the tags. just like my xmas fics, PLEASE DON'T SEND REQUESTS FROM THE VALENTINE'S PROMPT LIST. i'll tag all the fics as illicitvalentine's so it's easier to keep track of them. my askbox is always open for requests, currently the only drivers i write for are lando, mick, pierre, charles and george.
(pleeease he's so pretty)
age 16
you sat with your prettiest dress on. your small handbag rested next to you on the leather booth of a small diner. you looked around you, the place was nearly empty, and mr and mrs. peterson, the old couple that owned the place, were sitting by the kitchen doors. you couldn’t help but sigh as you looked at them, even after so many years of marriage they were still each other’s favorite person.
you felt a buzzing on your phone, it’s your best friend, lisa.
is he there yet? no, he’s not here. but maybe he’s running late. yeah, maybe:) tell me when he gets there! i will, thx.
the bell above the front door chimed, and your head snapped up. it’s a boy you recognized from school, you had a few classes with him. his eyes scanned the diner, and he sat alone in an empty table, across from you. you guessed that he was waiting for someone because he didn’t order anything.
he tapped his fingers against the table, and you sighed as you leaned your chin on your fist, your elbow on top of the checkered tablecloth as you looked out the window.
abi, my dear, i can never know peace as long as you write. crying in my hotel room rn
pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader word count: 1.9k words. request: yes/noby anons "charles one shot where his gf is a singer/songwriter. she's making a new album and he's playing the piano and accidentally uploads him playing the melody in the piano in a insta story. a while later the song comes out and charles surprises her in one of her concerts playing the piano to the song 🥰" & "hello, could you maybe write a charles lecerc x reader? with story he posted when he plays the piano?" aaah! so sorry this took so long. i really hope you both like it. prompt: roses from this prompt list. warnings: language, kissing, fluff, it gets kinda suggestive in the end. i think that's it. a/n: here's day 2! i had one (1) piano lesson when i was ten and guitar lessons from ages 12 to 15 so i apologize if there're any mistakes about terminology and stuff. just like my xmas fics, PLEASE DON'T SEND REQUESTS FROM THE VALENTINE'S PROMPT LIST. i'll tag all the fics as illicitvalentine's so it's easier to keep track of them. my askbox is always open for requests, currently the only drivers i write for are lando, mick, pierre, charles and george.
you’re laying down on the couch, with your back pressed against the armrest as you read a book, the soft music charles is playing in the background is the perfect soundtrack. you read about a girl running away from a life she didn’t want, and as she thinks about everything her life could, can, be, your mood falls as charles stops playing.
“why’d you stop?” you ask, placing your bookmark in the page you were reading.
“my fingers hurt,” charles replies, stretching his fingers.
“that was a nice song, where did you hear it?” you ask as you walk to him, sitting next to him on the small bench in front of the piano.
“it’s mine… i came up with it,” he says, and you think you see his cheeks reddening. “i’ve had the melody in my head for a while now,”
“why didn’t you tell me? charles, you just composed an entire song in your head, remembered it long enough to get here and play it. not even i can do that,” you smile, grabbing his face and placing a soft kiss on his lips. “you’re amazing,”
NO SORRY I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS TODAY I WILL BE IN HIBERNATION UNTIL FEB 15TH
pairing: pierre gasly x reader word count: 5.7k words. request: yes/noby an anon: "hi! i love your writing and saw the prompt list on your blog. i was wondering if you could write “(she/he/they) don’t belong with (her/him/them)!” “than who do(es) (she/he/they) belong with?” “…..with me.” with either george or pierre please? thanks so much xx" and everyone who wanted to know how this story ended<3 prompt: general 25: "(she/he/they) don’t belong with (her/him/them)!” “than who do(es) (she/he/they) belong with?” “…..with me." from this prompt list (i changed it a bit, sorry) warnings: language, a lot of taylor swift and shakespeare references. and also references to the previous parts. a/n: we've reached the end! i really hope you like this. i was going to name this 'daylight' (you'll see why), but i noticed that all the previous parts were six-letter words, and my ocd brain didn't want to mess the pattern. i'm not one hundred percent sure i love how this turned out, but my brain said 'do it'. also, it's really hard to write love speeches. my askbox is always open for requests, currently the only drivers i write for are lando, mick, pierre, charles and george.
my masterlist / this is a part four to 'pillow' & 'jacket' & 'letter'
on friday, after returning from juliet’s house, you and pierre were closer than ever. something happened there, maybe it was the letter you wrote, the whole atmosphere of the city you were in, but the uneasiness you’d been feeling all day had disappeared. his hand had felt cold most of the time when he touched you, but after the letter, it was like your hand was made to hold his. his digits fit perfectly on the gap between yours. the height difference between you was just right that when you wanted to grab something from a high shelf whilst at a souvenir shop, pierre only had to raise his arm and he grabbed it for you.
nothing had ever made more sense than the two of you together.
I will never know peace now 😭 truly an immaculate work of art
mutual tags @lil-stark @reids-gf @reidsmilf @reidslibrarybook @reidsbookclub @reidsacademia @meganskane @deadravenclaw @delicatespencer @buckleyhans @moreidsdaughter @halloween-is-my-nationality @spencerreidapologist @spookydrreid @ssahotchsbitch @writingquillsandpainpills @evilshags @girlspencer @safespacespence @writer-in-theory @leahseclipse
