clumsy, oblivious, and clingy, she latches onto the first human she meets—which, unfortunately, happens to be Rafe Cameron.
NAVIGATION —
asks – thoughts
WORKS (Published Order) —
🐚 GIRL OF THE SEA
🐚 GIRL WITHOUT A TAIL
🐚 GIRL WITH THE SIREN SONG
🐚 GIRL UNDER THE MOONLIGHT
WORKS (Chronological Order) —
🐚 GIRL OF THE SEA
🐚 GIRL WITHOUT A TAIL
🐚 GIRL WITH THE SIREN SONG
🐚 GIRL UNDER THE MOONLIGHT
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Y/N Y/L/N has always seen Rafe Cameron, her twin brother's best friend as a thorn in her side, but what happens when Rafe is determined to show her that she is a rose in his hand.
after retiring from formula 1 at the end of the 2022 season, f1 legend sebastian vettel realised a while after the announcement that he would miss the paddock way too much. instead of taking back his announcement, he pairs up with an up-and-coming driver and gets her a seat in a race car in formula 1.
this is SOOO heavily inspired by @sebscore and also @thepersonnamedsam (i was doing some research how to start and came across theirs too) and i'm lOVING IT!!
i wanted there to be a twist that didn't make it seem like it's an outright copy, so there it is! do feel free to send in requests here or questions!!
if there are too many similarities and/or copies, do drop me a message to let me know so i can address them </3
do take note that these are written in no particular order, just based on requests and scenarios sent in or that i come up with!
summary: brief snapshots of formula 1’s first female driver race winner, world driving champion, and paddock icon from her humble beginnings.
pairings: none - it’s all platonic, strictly business 💅
warnings: swearing, rewriting of f1 history (sorry to the drivers i’ve deleted from seasons), and typical motorsports ✨sexism✨
2017 Season - On Debut
prologue - baby’s first f1 race
part 1 - contract signings
2018 Season - The Start of it All
part 2 - get pr trained
part 3 - ups and downs, but mostly downs
part 4 - we bounce back!
part 5 - something smells like PROMOTION!
part 6 - so debut season is over, what now?
interludes: (wip)
2019 Season - Always the Bridesmaid and Never the Bride
shy!reader and rafe hanging out by the pool at tanneyhill talking about getting married and having kids ☹️
basking in the warmth, with the sun casted over you and rafe by the tannyhill pool, you close your eyes and let the feeling wash over you.
rafe's typing something on the computer and you were reading your book until just now, but you put it away, choosing to let your mind think about nothing instead.
"you okay?" rafe asks, and you glance up at him, smiling softly before you can even realize you have. you love that he cares enough to ask, that he's always checking.
"mm-hm."
"what're you thinkin' about?"
"nothing," you sigh, looking out over the big pool and empty space—no one but you two around today. "i should bring the boys i babysit here. they'd love your pool."
rafe laughs, and so you laugh too.
"yeah, kid. you should."
the two little sweethearts you babysit adore rafe as it is—he's always the one bringing them ice cream (when he's bringing it for you) and joining the three of you on walks around the block and bike rides in the driveway. they'd die from happiness if they found out he has such a big pool completely open for them.
"we'd have to watch them, though. the younger one is a natural but the older is still learning."
"yeah, kid. i'll watch them." you smile back at rafe, happy with his willingness to help. "besides, it's good practice for us."
that sentence makes you sit up a little in your seat—looking at your boyfriend carefully, making sure you understood what he just said.
"practice?" you repeat.
"yeah. for our kids."
"yeah?" you ask, smiling back at him. "how many are we gonna have?" rafe finally looks up from his screen, staring back at you with his straight face, though you see the smile tugging on the corner of his mouth.
"i don't know. three. four."
"oh. oh, sure. three or four, like it's so easy. you don't have to push 'em out." you laugh, and then rafe laughs. you lean over to take a sip of your lemonade, watching rafe set his laptop aside.
"you asked. don't worry, i'll be there to hold your hand."
"big talk about kids from a guy i'm not even married to yet."
"yeah," rafe says, staring at you in a way that makes your whole body shiver, despite how you're sweating in the sun. the look says something like he'll give you a kid now if you want. "yet."
have you ever written something where shy reader is too anxious to tell someone they got her order wrong or tell the lady at the nail salon she didn’t exactly like the color/shape
no but omg this is soooo real
getting your nails done was always fun—though sometimes, you leave with something completely different than what you came in wanting.
you found it hard to speak up to anyone, your nail tech included. instead you'd nod politely and smile sweetly when they were doing your nails.
it was just nails—it didn't matter if they were a little shorter than you wanted, or if the pink was a little more bubblegum than baby. they looked pretty and you avoided someone getting upset with you—you considered it a win-win situation.
and it was beginning to work itself out—you had discovered your favorite nail lady, the one who always understood what you wanted and didn't make you nervous when you'd show her the picture you'd brought for inspiration. and going today, you were expecting your appointment to be with her—like always.
until you found out she was home sick. normally you'd wait—but you were at the salon today specially since you were going to a party with rafe tonight, and the idea of going with your bare and currently very ugly nails seemed completely out of the question.
and even worse—rafe had brought you. you didn't want to turn to him and tell him to take you back home, not when he'd driven you all the way here and agreed to sit with you even though you're sure he doesn't want to.
so you suck it up—you show the new tech your photo, a pretty pink and white french tip with some bows and flowers, and hope for the best. she's doing fine, it looks like the picture for the most part.. except your nails are looking more square than round, and it's a little too long for your taste. she's about to start painting, telling you to go wash your hands.
you get up, heart thudding uncomfortably. you hate this about yourself—hate it worse than anyone else could. the nail lady couldn't care less if you ask for them shorter and rounder, but you can't bring yourself to do it. instead you stare down at your nails in the sink and feel like you might start crying.
rafe has a sixth sense—he can always tell when you're feeling upset. you don't know how he does it, just that he does.
all he had noticed was that you had stopped smiling back at him every few minutes about half way into the second hand getting done—and then just now, when you got up, you didn't look at him on your way to the sink.
rafe follows you there, a hand on your shoulder to turn you around. he's got a candy in his mouth, plucked from the bowl they keep near the entrance.
"what's wrong?" he comes out a little raspy, his tongue red.
"nothing," you reply, too quickly. you look up at him with your watery eyes, trying your hardest not to cry.
"c'mon, kid. what is it? someone say something?" he asks, turning around to where you were sitting and the two techs in the vicinity.
"no, no. nothing. it's just-" again, you hate this. you don't know why it's so hard to find the words, why they just don't want to come out. you swallow it down.
"what? you gotta tell me if you want me to help," he says, quieter, leaning in a little. you feel better immediately when he says it, but you still can't look up at him. you stare down at the too-long, too-square acrylics.
"it's not.. exactly what i wanted. i don't know how to tell them. i don't want them to be upset-"
"is that it?" rafe asks, and you look up quickly, eyes getting teary again. is he mad at you too now? your expression gives you away, lips turning into a sad pout. "baby, she doesn't care. they get paid either way. gotta ask for what you want."
you follow rafe back—cheeks burning with embarassmnet. bad enough that you can't ever speak up for yourself, now rafe is involved and he probably thinks you're some kind of child-
"stop overthinkin'. it's easy for me to tell her, it's harder for you. so i'll tell her, okay?" looking up at your boyfriend, your ears ring a little. you hear him talk to your tech—you see his mouth moving, maybe making out shorter and she likes round, okay?
you can't hear anything, it feels like there's music in your ears. the tech nods and smiles at you, fixing them and before your very eyes, your nails look exactly how you wanted them to. rafe pulls his chair closer to yours, a hand on your knee.
his words keep repeating in your head—stop overthinking. and like always, you listen to rafe.
So obviously Spencer is iconic for his wide range of haircuts over the show, and I have this vision of a Spencer x hairdresser fic where he goes to the same hairdresser all the time because he likes the routine and it’s what he’s used to. So like they’re low-key friends bc he’s been her client so long, but then she notices he can’t come as usual and he tells her it’s because he’s always away or working late. So because they’re close she gives him private late appointments after she closes bc they’re more accessible for him, and then they’re always together late at night, and eventually they fall for each other!! And like she loves his curls and cringed when he wanted it cut short but loves it regardless AHH I JUST LOVE IT. Bonus points if Spencer gets to recommend his hairdresser girlfriend to his teammates just to brag about the fact he has a hot girlfriend lmao. I get it’s kinda long lol, if it’s too long a premise then no worries, just sharing it is nice :)
A/N: Hi! I love the idea of hair stylist reader, so I had a lot of fun writing this~♡ Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!
W/C: 2.1k
Warnings: implied Autistic Reid, brief mentions of sensory issues, writer does not care for the shows Canon hair continuity and does basically whatever she wants.
Masterlist
The first time you'd met Spencer Reid, you hadn't been able to cut his hair. Which was a damn shame because it really did need cutting.
Sweeping up the floors of the hair salon you worked at, you had noticed the man lingering outside, wringing his hands together and pushing them awkwardly through his hair, approaching and retreating every few seconds.
You watched him through the mirrors, and let him dance around like that for five minutes before deciding that the evening breeze would be a boon during the hot summer night that was about to set in on you.
Opening the salon door, you stepped outside and soaked in the fresh air before turning to the now frozen, slightly awkward man.
“Can I help you?” You tried to put a welcoming smile on your face, but the salon was past closing and empty beside you. You should've been heading home by now, but something in the man's posture had you dawdling.
“The barber shop down the road closed down,” he said quickly, as if the words were practised on his to guess moments before.
“Yes, that's true. It's been six months now.”
“Six months?” he squeaked out, running a hand through his hair as he turned inwards.
“Do you… need a haircut?”
“Yes. Yes, are there any other barber shops in the area?”
You rolled your eyes and walked back into the salon, picking up a robe and a shoulder cover and spinning around the closest chair to welcome him.
“Well, are you coming in?”
“But you're closed. Your sign says you're closed.”
“And I'm still here, aren't I?”
He didn't argue any further and hesitantly stepped into the salon.
You helped him out of his bag and put it away before helping him into the robe and shoulder pad.
He awkwardly stood around as you prepared your scissors and station again, switching on the mirror light so you could fully see his face and hair.
And damn was he attractive. As you smoothed his hair out of his face, you were met with warm brown eyes, open and anxious, like a deer caught in headlights. Or, more accurately, a dear caught in a hair salon.
You had to blink and look away as you remembered what you were about, standing up and leading him over to the sink.
“I'm… I'm a little bit sensitive about my hair,” he admitted quite meekly as you tested the temperature of the water.
“Okay. Is there anything specific?”
He sat himself in the chair but didn't lower his head to the bowl, so you waited.
After a minute or two, he gently lowered his head to the bowl, and you helped his progress, making sure he was comfortably settled. He didn't speak, just let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes as you turned the water on his locks.
You enjoyed the simple repetitions of your job. Everyone's hair was different, that was true, but there were really only so many ways to wash hair.
You rinsed his hair thoroughly, keeping the water away from his face and ears with a face guard before beginning to lather it up.
For a man who hadn't seen the inside of a salon in six months and likely a hairbrush in the same length of time, his hair was healthy.
De-tangling as you went, you ran your hands through the lengths of his hair, taking note of how it fell, which parts were healthy, and which had developed split ends. Then you began massaging his head, working the shampoo into his roots, making sure his scalp was free from any possible dirt or dry skin.
This was the best part of the haircut for you, and you knew your regular clients enjoyed it greatly as well. Which is why you probably shouldn't have been too surprised when the man fell asleep.
It took you a few minutes to realize that was what happened, the face guard obscuring his face from your vision. When you squeezed the water from his hair, patted it dry, and twisted it into a towel so the water wouldn't run down his back, you had no clue that he was away with the fairies.
It wasn't until you asked him to stand, and he didn't even move that you moved around the sink and lifted the face guard.
If he seemed anxious awake, it had melted away now. He looked younger asleep, more calm and confident somehow. His eyelashes were long, a fact you only noticed when you leaned in to get a better look at him.
It was your hand unconsciously tracing a hand along his jaw that woke him back up, and for a second, you just stared at each other, faces inches apart.
“I'm.. I'm so sorry, I should go. Thank you for… I should go,” he said hurriedly, pulling the robes and towels off and snatching his bag up, running out the door.
“Wait, your hair,” you called after him, but he was gone.
And he hadn't paid.
It took a week for you to collect the payment, though you couldn't care less about the money anyway.
But a week thinking about the man's delicate features, his shy smile and stutter, and you were very distracted.
Thinking about him had become your full-time job, as much as cutting hair had, and you'd had a few close encounters with the scissors when you were lost in thought.
You'd been thinking up back stories for the man ranging from the romantic to the obscure to the downright realistic. So, a week later, you found yourself behind on work and needing to stay late, just as he stepped into the shop a second time.
“Hello?” You shouted from the backroom, hearing the doorbell jingle as it opened. “We're actually closed right now, so- oh.”
He stood awkwardly in the door, his face already flushed slightly.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” you said, trying to stop the grin spreading across your face. You didn't want to scare him off a second time.
“Last time, I… kinda ran away. I was… I'm not the best with-”
“With haircuts?”
“With change.” You both nodded at that, awkwardly staring at each other.
“So…?” You lead, trying to encourage him to introduce himself, hoping he would reveal something you didn't already know.
“You're closed again, but could you cut my hair?” He asked, pushing the long locks back on his head as he stood a little taller.
“It would be my pleasure…” you trailed off as a question, needing to know his name.
“Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor… just Spencer is fine if you'd prefer.”
“I'm Y/N. Come and take a seat.”
You slid him into the robes once again and got through a hair wash without any accidental naps this time. Though you did notice that he seemed to be enjoying it just as much.
His sighs left you feeling hot, your heart beating as you focused on his hair to draw your gaze from his lips.
When he was back I'm front of the mirror, he again looked like a scared cat that had been backed into the corner.
“So, what'll it be, Spencer?” You asked cheerily, combing your hand through his locks to detangle them.
“Hmm? Oh, a water would be nice.”
“For your hair, Spencer. What haircut do you want?”
“Oh! Oh, um, just a…just a haircut.”
Your face scrunched up in confusion as he doubled down.
“But what kind of haircut?”
“What kind?”
You pulled away from his chair for a minute and went to grab a cut reference book.
“Okay, so we've got undercuts, or trims, I can do pompadour or bowl cut or-”
You looked at Spencer's face again and saw that he looked more than confused.
“How about I just cut your hair and after you tell me if you like it or not?”
He nodded and gave you a weak smile as you grabbed your scissors.
Twenty minutes of silence later, and you felt Spencer exhale in relief as you dusted off the back of his neck and pulled the robes off of his clothes.
You'd gone for a shorter cut, but his curly hair had such a nice natural texture that you left it a bit longer on top. Without his hair in his face, his jawline was sharper, his eyes brighter, and you were somehow more infatuated.
He stood up shyly and you smiled at how good he looked.
“Okay, perfect! Let me just-” You lifted your hand and smoothed out some of his hair, picking up some strands and pushing them back and forth until it was just right.
He caught your hand just as you were about to pull away, and you suddenly realized how close he was. Or more accurately how close you had gotten. It was like you were breathing the same air.
“D-Do you like it?” You asked, voice small and high as it battled your heartbeat to be heard.
“Yeah. I like it. It looks… it looks like a haircut.”
You giggled as his grip became gentler, and your hand fell down to your side, brushing his chest gently as it descended.
“How much do I owe you?” He asked, and you led him over to the register to complete the payment.
“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed his bags to head out the door.
“Just doing my job. I'll see you in six weeks,” you said, waving him off.
“What for?” He asked, voice confused but bright. He sounded almost hopeful.
“For your next haircut, Spencer.”
He smiled and waved back as he walked back into the dark and disappeared down the street.
No one could ever accuse Spencer Reid of being forgetful, and six weeks later, he was back in your chair.
Except he didn't arrive at 11pm this time, but instead 11am.
The other customers and stylists gawked at the man as he walked in, and you thanked the gods that your seat was free as he met your eyes.
“Hi.”
“Spencer! You're back.”
He nodded shyly, head hanging a little as he ignored the many looks from the women in the room and the eruption of whispers and loud glances in his direction.
“It's been six weeks. You said that's when I'd need another haircut.”
You laughed a little as you pulled the robe around him.
“You know, I say that every time, but most people ignore me. I love a man who can follow directions.”
The eruption of red on his cheeks left you feeling suddenly tongue tied, and you carefully redirected the conversation back to the task at hand.
“Same again, Doc?” You asked, readying your spray bottle and supplies.
“Actually, could we, ah, go shorter this time?” Hesmiled sheepishly and watched as you ran your fingers through his tangled hair.
“My boss, last time, said I looked like I joined a boyband, so…”
“Your boss at the hospital?” You asked, clinging to every detail you could get from him.
“The hospital?”
“You said you were a Doctor, do you work in a lab instead or-”
“Oh. No, I work at the FBI. I'm not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. I have three, Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.”
You whistled. “Impressive. You can't be older than 30.”
“I'm 29.” He said, smiling at you in the mirror, and you smiled back, hands still running through his hair.
“So, no boy band haircuts, okay. For what it's worth, though, you look totally hot.”
The words cut the conversation short, and you tried your best to take the words back as you went off to the sides to grab your sheers.
Half an hour later, and you could swear that half the salon had given up pretending to be doing their jobs and were just awkwardly ogling the man. If the shorter “boyband” hair was good, the undercut you'd done for him was even better.
You turned him around to get a closer look, using the excuse of making sure his hair was symmetrical enough to stare at him some more as you got closer to finishing.
“Okay,” you said with a sad sigh. “You're all finished, Spencer. Let's get you rung up.”
He nodded and followed you quickly, pulling out his wallet as he paid quietly.
“Okay. And I'll see you tomorrow,” you said, as he picked up his bags to leave.
“Tomorrow? I thought you said it was six weeks between haircuts.”
“It is. But it's also my day off tomorrow, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. With me.”
He blinked at you once. Then twice, and another time before smiling and looking away.
“Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.”
He ran a hand through his hair and nearly walked into the door he was trying to walk through, but your heart still fluttered as you waved him out.
I'm doing a rewatch of the bear and god he is just so irresistable. My childhood crush on lip gallagher has been revived and given new purpose! I can't promise to write for carmy consistently but if y'all have requests I wouldn't be opposed to them :)
cw: blood
Carmy Berzatto x fem!reader ♡ 972 words
There are tons of benefits to being in the same kitchen as a classically trained chef. For one, Carmy always gives you the easy tasks. Stirring pasta, scrambling eggs, chopping scallions. Today, you’re cutting up melon while he whips up some kind of citrus sauce, because your boyfriend is incapable of making just a fruit salad. No, it has to have some kind of fancy factor, or else they’ll take away his star, you guess. (Not that you’re complaining. That sauce is gonna be awesome.)
One thing that doesn’t tend to feel like a benefit is that any time you mess something up, you feel about three times more stupid than you would if you were by yourself.
How were you supposed to guess that instead of cutting down through the melon when you try to slice it in half, the tip of the giant knife you’re using would come jutting out of the melon and embed itself in your palm.
You gasp and pull away on instinct, and for a second, can only stare at the strangeness of it. You can see straight through to the inside of your hand, which is as unsettling as it is sickening, freezing you in morbid fascination until blood wells to the surface and your brain catches up to what’s happened.
“What?” Carmy asks flatly, having heard your gasp and well used to your kitchen mishaps.
You tear a paper towel off the roll, jamming it over the wound and fisting your hand around it. “I cut myself,” you say, somewhat shakily.
“How bad?”
You look down at the knife, miraculously clean-looking despite the blood now flowing from your hand. The paper towel is already starting to feel damp with it.
You use your good hand to take the knife out of the melon, setting it in the sink so you don’t forget to wash it. “I don’t—” You’ve never cut yourself this deep before. You don’t know how bad is bad. “It seems not great.”
You startle when a tattooed hand wraps around your elbow.
“Chill,” Carmy says, turning you around to face him. He takes your wrist. “Open your hand.”
“I can’t.” Panic makes your throat hot and tight. “It’s bleeding a lot.”
“Let me see,” he says, trying to pry your fingers away from your curled-up hand.
“I think it’s fine.” There are tears in your voice, and sometimes you wish Carmy was the type of person whose emotions naturally adjusted to balance out those around him, but your alarm only works him up.
“Let me see,” he insists sharply, and you don’t have the will to resist, letting him unfold your fingers. You flinch as he removes the paper towel, blood running quickly into the crevices of your palm.
“Shit,” Carmy hisses, tugging it over the sink. Your hand looks like a delta of crimson streams. He picks the paper towel up again, dabbing roughly so he can see the cut better.
“Do you think it needs stitches?” you worry aloud, then immediately want to hit yourself. Even if he says it does, you think you’ll push back, too fearful of hospitals and needles and odd, stinging pains to consent to getting them.
Your boyfriend is quiet, bending close to your hand as he lifts the paper towel again, and your voice goes a bit shrill. “Carm?”
“No,” he says, staunching the wound again.
Relief washes over you like a warm tide. Still, you ask, “How do you know?”
Carmy presses your fingers closed like they had been, loosing a breath as he gives your fist a light squeeze. “I’ve seen enough cuts that do need stitches to know the difference. What the hell did you do?”
You try to breathe out like he had, but your chest still feels too tight. You can feel your heart beating in your hand. “I don’t know,” you admit. “The knife slipped and went through the skin, or, like, the peel.”
His brows knit together, and Carmy picks your knife up from the sink. You have no clue what he sees that you don’t, his eyes narrowing, but he shoots you a look once he’s done, setting it back down.
“It’s dull,” he says, like this is a punishable offense. Maybe in his kitchen, it is. “This is why we keep our knives sharp, so these fuck-ups don’t happen.”
“How was I supposed to know sharp knives were less dangerous?” You’re trying to joke, but your voice comes out watery. You press your lips together as adrenaline catches up to you, your vision blurring.
“Relax.” Carmy sounds tired. His grip is strong, though, as he wrestles you into a hug, thick arms banding across your shoulders. You feel stupid, and silly, and he can tell, his hand cupping the back of your neck as tears carve hotly down your cheeks. “You’re just supposed to know.”
You laugh wetly, breaking up some of the emotion knotted in your chest. Carmy pulls back until he can see your face. His hand moves to the side of your neck, thumb pressed against your jaw.
“You’re okay,” he says firmly. “Does it hurt?”
You shake your head. “Not really, I was just scared.” Your lips wobble pathetically, tears dribbling off your chin. “And you yelled at me.”
Carmy blows out a breath, his mouth slanting wryly. “That wasn’t yelling,” he says, but brings his other hand to your face, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you choke out, pushing against his hands until he gives in, letting you fold yourself into his chest again. “I’m sorry I didn’t sharpen my knife.”
“I’ll do it for you later.” You can feel his biceps bulging as he tightens his grip on you, holding you closer. “But there’s no fucking way we’re using that melon now.”
domestic bliss — snippets of charles and y/n's relationship
carlos sainz jr.
social media
keeping up with the sainz — snaps of their vacation and a potential addition to the sainz family
keeping up with the sainz ii
F1 VARIOUS
scandalous — people always think the grass is greener on the other side; unfortunately, max is gonna find out that it could not be further from the truth... and certain pilots are more than happy to take care of you and your daughter.
one, two, three, four, five, six
snippets: one, two, three, four, five
sweet like cinnamon — charles had done his best to keep you away from f1 and everything that had to do with motorsport. It's time you break his golden rule and give him something to really stress about.
one, two, three, four, five, six
snippets: one, two, three, four, five
DRABBLES
domestic leclercs
cold season ♡ sister biased // little leclerc with the gfs // may the best brother and their gfs win // holidaying without the leclerc sibs //adopting ollie
obsessed with her cheeks // what's the tea? with the leclerc sibs! // little leclerc getting married? // lorenzo being a comfort person // forever our baby (+1) // fia's sincere letter // charles being a walking safe space // fangirling with sebastian vettel // little leclerc being jealous // impromptu visists with the clingy bros + surprise boyfriends!! // cancelling a sibling night // sad and depressed bros
leclerc brothers and their reactions to their baby's first relationship
forgetting a sibling night • charles • arthur
paddock groupies.
♡ top dogs in the paddock // mr. redacted // brother in law(s) tolerance scale // least hated brother in law // inlaws fighting // from disliked to extremely // paddock competitions //
one where toto and christian agree
carlos sainz : carlos and little leclerc // family functions // polaroids and cut outs // sweet talking yn leclerc, fake it til you make it kinda! // reyes/charles/carlos drama // golf dates with carlos and lando
pierre gasly : pierre, the wild card // pierre and his perks // they're just friends ? [♡] pierre and little leclerc
max verstappen : max and little leclerc // choker? ♡ choker! // max in the dms [♡] max and little leclerc ♡ max's brownie points
mick schumacher : it's going to be okay // micky. how. //
lance stroll : the strolls
sebastian vettel : meltdowns and lipgloss with sebastian vettel
because its race season, here's a list of my favorite CL16 fanfics <3
↻ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.
My boyfriend Marc by @thisismeracing
Summary: In which Yn always refers to her secret boyfriend as Marc and fans take forever to put the pieces together and realize that many of the names she used were actually Charles Leclerc’s middle names.
steal my girl by @leclerckins
(series.) | Charles is pining, somebody is trying to slide into your dms and charles has been listening to one direction a little bit too much.
cooking challenge by ⤷
in which Charles learn having a chef as his girlfriend doesn't really help his cooking skill.
never have I ever been starstruck? by ⤷
during a never have I ever...Charles spilled some beans!
cat fever by ⤷
charles swears he doesn't like cats.....or does he?
cherry tomato by @xxblairexxss
In which you did a Tiktok prank on your boyfriend and he nearly fainted.
Who are you by ⤷
(series) | You got into an accident on your way to work with a guy who drove Ferrari Pista 488 with the number 16. Weird thing was that everyone kept calling his name as if he was a celebrity.
Friendship bracelets by @astonmartinii
Charles' gf is beloved in the fandom for her love for friendship bracelets.
you and me got a whole lotta history by ⤷
y/n is a historian and it’s not her fault her bf’s job takes him all around the world.
tight knit by ⤷
spa 2021, where a knitting hobby comes in handy.
motormouth by ⤷
charles finally gets the chance to go on his favourite internet show, but completely embarrasses himself in front of the host - his celebrity crush
cat mom by ⤷
charles and y/n accidentally become cat parents and take it about as seriously as you would expect
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ by @fxllfaiiry
summary: the internet ships you with everyone expect your boyfriend. driver!reader
Deep dive by @charlesluvr
summary: fans go on a quick trip down memory lane to rediscover yours & Charles' best twitter era.
LIGHTNING MCLOVER by @f1version
summary: You see people comparing Charles to Lightning McQueen and get obsessed with it.
in so deep by @leclsrc
(nsfw 18+) | It takes you many cities, a botched Halloween costume and a failed break-in to realize how much Charles likes you. It takes Charles several years to realize he doesn’t need to do much to have you like him back.
Beauty sleep by @smartstupyd
Three times you and Charles were found sleeping in strange places, and two times you two talk about it.
knitted sweater by @norrisleclercf1
sunshine reader who knitted Charles a sweater and he’s so protective of it.
yeah my boyfriend's pretty cool !!! by @love-belle
in which they're living the childhood best friends to lovers trope.
or
for when you just can't help falling in love.
i'd like to hang out with you for my whole life !!! by ⤷
in which he loves her but so does everyone else. a bit too much.
or
for when everybody wanna steal your girl
summary | after being failed time and time again Charles well-hidden gf finally had enough and decided to take matters into her own hands.
꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 ─ 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔 ˚₊· ꒱꒱ by ⤷
(18+) | summary | charles goes on buzzfeed to read thirst tweets about him? no more like about his amazing girlfriend and their sex life
baby fever by @landonfour
in which the two of you get hit by baby fever a little too much and a little too often and are not that subtle about it.
Enchanted to meet you by @leclercloml
everyone's favourite swiftie is finally off the market, but who's that lucky guy?
anything with you by @writtenfangirl
Featuring Charles in his streamer era
Orange theory by @forzalando
summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right?
(one of my favs<3)
down bad by @writingstoraes
people keep saying charles is completely smitten for his girlfriend — they're completely right.
no way by ⤷
fans notice how charles loses his senses when you're interviewing him, but they don't believe he has enough courage to do something about it!
grid love by ⤷
the last thing anyone expects is a redbull driver dating another from ferrari. a series of soft launches from you didn't help either!
GQ COUPLES QUIZ by @cl6teen
a GQ interview featuring the paddock’s favourite couple.
Delicate by @redclerc
WHEN YOUR reputation is crashing and burning around you, the last thing you need is a boy with pretty eyes who drives a fast car and makes you feel things you really shouldn't be feeling.
Sleeping beauty by @phillydilly
in which she gets home from a trip and falls asleep on her boyfriends lap
almost 3 years by @luvclerc
charles revealing his celebrity crush but is it just a crush??
no, not him by ⤷
everybody thinks max and yn are dating, when in reality yn is in a relationship with a certain ferrari driver.
red, white and blue's in the sky by @monzabee
Summary: The one where Charles has an olympian girlfriend.
after retiring from formula 1 at the end of the 2022 season, f1 legend sebastian vettel realised a while after the announcement that he would miss the paddock way too much. instead of taking back his announcement, he pairs up with an up-and-coming driver and gets her a seat in a race car in formula 1.
this is SOOO heavily inspired by @sebscore and also @thepersonnamedsam (i was doing some research how to start and came across theirs too) and i'm lOVING IT!!
i wanted there to be a twist that didn't make it seem like it's an outright copy, so there it is! do feel free to send in requests here or questions!!
if there are too many similarities and/or copies, do drop me a message to let me know so i can address them </3
do take note that these are written in no particular order, just based on requests and scenarios sent in or that i come up with!
vettel reincarnate * female!driver
-> after retiring from formula 1 at the end of the 2022 season, f1 legend sebastian vettel realised a while after the announcement that he would miss the paddock way too much. instead of taking back his announcement, he pairs up with an up-and-coming driver and gets her a seat in a race car in formula 1.
in another life * female!driver x logan sargeant
-> "if not in this universe, do you think we're at least together in another?" "there has to be at least one where we're happy."
it's nice to have a friend * logan sargeant x platonic fem!driver
-> it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago
i'm giving up your ghost * multiple drivers
-> i’d live in these stories forever if it means being with you
fast times and fast nights * f1 grid as wags
-> what do you expect when you put the grid and their partners on a reality show?
i said "i love you" * valentine's day special
-> different reactions to the phrase
max verstappen
midnights
-> a compilation of lonely midnights shared between you and max following your breakup
5 times
-> there are five times max almost caught himself saying he loves you, and then there’s the time that he finally let you know
3 times
-> you've had a crush on the racing prodigy for as long as you've known him - you had your own troubles biting back on words too.
glitter
-> it’s the morning after a party, and you find yourself tangled up in bed with your boyfriend
the other woman
-> everything falls into place in your mind when max fails to show up for you at the one event you desperately wanted him to be at
charles leclerc
i quit drinking
-> you were never one to turn down alcohol. when you do, it causes a ruckus among your friends.
to forget you
-> you avoided alcohol to forget the likes of charles, but he coped by drowning himself in the very same thing that reminded him of you
you called
-> you called, so he came.
george russell
sex
-> it was supposed to be just sex
be mine
-> your last night together ended on a bad note, and now you’re back after months to explain yourself
alex albon
love like this
-> alex may be the reason your parents are separating, but he proves to you that soulmates still exist
get this right
-> the thought of proposing to you is one that always comes easy to alex, but what he hadn’t expected is how difficult it is to execute it
first podiums
-> it’s her first win in formula one as a female driver and her boyfriend can’t be any happier for her
logan sargeant
take my hand * prince!logan
-> the princess, to inherit the throne after marriage, is having the hardest time trying to find a man to wed. until, a certain duke of somewhere comes riding in to ask for her hand
our spot
-> a text from you is the last thing logan expects when he's back home for the holidays especially when it's your first text in almost two years
our spot, 2
-> it’s about two weeks since you last saw logan and you find him sitting all alone in the dark
oscar's girl / logan's girl
-> logan never thought he would meet the girl that broke oscar’s heart
where the fun begins * frat!logan (college!mick)
-> logan sees you wrapped around another’s arms shortly after you ghost him and he decides to wreak some havoc
carlos sainz
one of your girls
-> you’re just another name in black ink in his long list of girls, and you should know better. so why are you at his apartment in the middle of the night after weeks of radio silence?
oscar piastri
logan's girl
-> oscar truly never thought he would ever see the girl that was the cause of his first ever heartbreak
mick schumacher
no other shade of blue, but you
-> you didn't have a favourite colour up until you met him
where the fun begins * college!mick (frat!logan)
-> logan sees you wrapped around another’s arms shortly after you ghost him and he decides to wreak some havoc
invisible string
-> unbeknownst to you, there was a force that was pulling you and mick together your entire lives
part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine, part ten, part eleven, part twelve, part thirteen, part fourteen
