Dark F1 - Tumblr Posts

Learn Your Place - LN

DARK FIC 18+ - Minors DNI- if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS

Summary: Lando and y/n don't get along, but that doesn't mean there's no attraction there. It's just a question of what it could lead to in the end.

READ THESE Themes/warnings: This is not a love story. Smut 18+, degradation, objectification, hate sex, really mean (like borderline bully)!Lando, heavy hook up culture

Word count: 2.4k

No part 2 requests please

Most people would assume that there's nothing but good things that come from being in the same friendship group at Lando Norris. But there's always been something that never sat right between y/n and Lando.

Each friend has their theories as to why.

Not that it matters. They both try to put things aside for the benefit of their friends, however it's rarely that they don't end up bickering.

Which is why it's such a bad idea that they have been left with each other during a day trip out. The rest of the group having somewhat left because they told everyone if they weren't awake in time to leave then they would be sitting out the activity.

"Oh fuck." Y/n grunts realising she slept through them all getting ready and leaving. "Day by the pool it is."

Y/n moves to pull on a bikini before moving out to the pool with some leftover food swiped from the fridge. It's a pretty nice day so honestly she's not that mad about being left in the villa, plus Lando has been giving her headaches so time away from him since they're only half way through the trip will definitely do her some good.

Or so she thinks.

"Anyone else here?!" A far too familiar voice calls out making her silently curse to the sky.

Seriously?

"Hello? Is-Y/n?" Lando grunts as he steps outside and spots the young woman lying in the sun. "Where is everyone?"

Y/n lets out a very long and drawn out breath to make sure her annoyance is really communicated to the F1 driver who doesn't exactly look anymore please to have found her.

"They went on that guided hike. We must've both been left here after sleeping through them all getting up and leaving. They did say anyone who wasn't up and awake was getting left behind." Y/n states making Lando grumble. "Feel free to go spend the day anywhere else."

"Oh because you've claimed the swimming pool?" Lando scoffs then watching her sigh seeming to try and keep herself quiet trying to avoid conflict because the urge to use the swimming to drown him would be too overpowering if they argue right now.

He disappears without a word making y/n frown for a moment wondering where he's going till she remembers she doesn't actually care. Because it's Lando.

She can only hope it's out the villa.

Instead of caring, y/n just settle back flicking through her phone before deciding to just lie back and bask in the heat of the sun. After all why would she care how Lando spends his day, so long as he's not bugging her then she's happy to keep on doing what she's doing.

But of course he can't let her have peace. No, instead the ground shakes underwear with the volume of music and since it's an isolated villa and she's the only person who could be hearing it. He doesn't have to concern himself about anyone but y/n.

"What a fucking dick." Y/n grumbles to herself, there's no way she'll be giving him the attention he's aiming to get. She's almost certain Lando purposely sets out to piss her off.

However, she can't stop herself from feeling the build up of tension with every beat of the music making her body jump.

It's when she finally snaps getting up and moving inside, moving around to find where the hell the speaker is. Which leads to his bedroom and she hesitates for a moment before stepping in since his door is open.

As soon as she turns off the speaker she feels her bones finally stop rattling but the temporary peace is exactly that. Temporary.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Preventing an earthquake. You definitely do not have to listen to music on the axis shifting volume." Y/n huffs actually feeling her ears struggle to properly hear her own voice as she crosses her arms and does everything to not look at Lando's half naked body.

She will not give him that victory.

"You know, I've really given you a lot of leeway. But touch my stuff and invade my space again. And I'll return the favour in my own way that you might suddenly start craving."

The suggestion doesn't go over her head and y/n immediately recoils in disgust.

"The only thing I crave when it comes to you is being away from you." Y/n states then stepping back when Lando takes a couple strides forward, him seeming to move a lot faster towards her than she can move away from him.

The sudden proximity actually makes her heart start to thud and suddenly y/n feels a little shame in a tell tale sign that she's more effected by their closeness than she'd ever verbally admit. Lando's green eyes seem to invade her every crevice without even moving from her face.

"You sure about that?" He questions reading her body like a book before suddenly she finds herself pushed backwards, landing on the bed. "You know I think there's better uses for you."

"Please if you think I'm just going to open my legs for you because you've been a twat all morning-"

Lando's eye roll practically slaps her, but what silences her is his hand over her mouth. She's really not fighting him because as much as she might claim that she won't let him get between her legs, he's not having to try hard to get access.

The moan from her throat is only slightly muffled by his hand as he uses his free hand to push her bikini bottoms aside, gliding fingers across her pussy, the small amount of attention making her embarrassingly wet desperate for more.

"Fucking slut." Lando mutters making a flush of shame rush through her body.

She's not a slut. In fact her body is probably so sensitive to his touch because it's been a while since a guy had hands on her. Although it could be the subconscious attraction to Lando.

Attraction does equate to him being likeable though.

Y/n can't even stop her body's automatic reaction to pulsing around his fingers when he pushes 2 into her with the ease of a slip'n'slide, just the feeling of something inside her that's not herself she can't help but feel sparks of pleasure from it. But when he suddenly pulls his hands back from her body, uncovering her mouth she wonders if he's about to laugh at her for being so easy.

"Would rather not look at your face." Lando states which definitely stings more than she ever expected any comment from him to.

He rolls her onto her stomach and while she feels like she should get up, push him away and tell him that this is a joke for even going this far. Sex with him is suddenly all she wants and it seems that even if it's not necessarily with her, sex is definitely all that Lando wants right now.

He does undo the ties on her bikini to rip it off and pulls her closer to the edge of the bed.

Y/n has never thought of herself as someone who is turned on by being man handled or even spoken down to, especially by the likes of Lando. But she actually feels her body comply to everything he does and actually she’s doing it with an internal eagerness. Her tummy fluttering as she uses the few seconds to mentally prepare for the fact she’s actually about to have sex with Lando.

Lando the dickhead who she can’t stand the company of and yet she can hear him putting on a condom (thank god because she was so caught up she’d forgot to remind him) to fuck her and she's making no effort to stop him.

Given that she never saw his actually size, even if she has maybe not be able to completely tame herself from looking at his bulge before this point, she was not expecting the very snug fit when he pushes into her. She's sort of only grateful he isn't deciding to slam into her and entirely disregard her comfort.

"Jesus Christ." Y/n whispers feeling him maybe attempt to push her a little further than capacity allows.

Lando decides not to comment about her reaction before he starts moving inside her. She actually feels a shiver of pleasure from feeling just that filled up by him. She also didn't expect his moans to make her feel so good.

Every thrust just feels amazing. Not that she will be informing him of that.

There's something about hate sex that feels good. It's definitely not Lando specifically who is making this a nice experience.

Definitely not.

But she feels herself getting knocked, nudged and grinded against with each thrust and it's making her nerves buzz with pleasure. She is sort of blindsided by no just her orgasm but the intensity of it.

Now she doesn't want to give Lando too much credit, but she doesn't even have it in her to make a snarky comment.

It might just be the longest orgasm of her life that she can feel Lando fucking her through till a harder thrust hits her and she's sure if she wasn't mid-orgasm it would've actually hurt but it only makes a second wave of pure pleasure smash up her spine.

His name falls past her lips in an uncontrolled moan. She's definitely going to regret that.

Her face is nuzzled down in the sheets as she feels a sudden emptiness that she in this moment would've happily had him continue to fill purely for comfort reasons and that's physical comfort not emotional.

Eventually her brain fog clears and she realises she's been lying face down and Lando has disappeared. Where? She has no idea.

But she makes herself scarce, admittedly on legs about as stable as jelly and locks herself away in her room.

"What the fuck did I just do?" Y/n chokes out when she's finally in the private of her own ensuite, the running water being enough for her to feel she can freak out with Lando overhearing anything.

If he is even still there.

Lando is definitely the type to fuck and disappear. In fact he did.

-

Y/n remains locked in her room for the remainder of the day till she hears everyone else returning from the excursion.

"Y/n! Are you sleeping in there? Come eat with us. We bought food on our way back." P exclaims knocking on her door making her get up from the bed that has been her wallowing pit and unlock her door peeking out to see the Brazilian. "Hey, you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. How was the day out?"

"Oh it was so fun. Did you just lock yourself away to avoid Lando when you realised the two of you were left here?"

"You know me so well." Y/n laughs trying to act like her usual self.

As soon as she's sitting down she finds herself across from the man himself who smirks immediately when he sees her. And suddenly it dawns on her that he might actually just sell them both down the river. Tell everyone what happened.

"There you are. You disappeared." Lando taunts clearly intending to get under her skin.

But she knows better than to provoke him.

"I got a headache from the sun." Y/n lies earning a hum while Max seems to clock on to the tension.

"What the hell happened between you two?" Max questions not quite having the thought to filter and ask when less people are around.

"Y/n came in and turned off my music. We argued and she locked herself away." Lando lies much more smoothly and she almost wants to thank him, but that would be far too much of a give away.

"Some times I don't want to experience music in my bones." Y/n states sarcastically while Lando shrugs.

"I don't care."

-

The trip was finally over and y/n actually never felt so good being home. Being away from Lando's cocky, annoying face has never felt so good either.

He didn't stop at the following dinner.

Indirect comments, other times on the rare occasion they were alone again, she found him saying things that honestly made her want to curl in on herself or be sick.

But only a couple weeks later she finds herself in Monaco on P's demand and she's in a club paid for by Lando's credit card.

Despite that she's still trying to dodge him and finds herself doing that by getting as drunk as humanly possible without it being that she's kicked out.

Although after a man suddenly scurries off mid-conversation she frowns turning around to find Lando stood there smirking. He's not jealous or possessive he just loves sabotaging her attempt to fuck someone when he's around.

"Seriously?" Y/n huffs stepping closer. "If you're suddenly obsessed with me-"

"I'm just returning my glass to the bar, I've got a lovely young lady waiting for me just over there. I was saving the man from a mistake." Lando shrugs earning a glare and admittedly that stung a little. She even flinches when he leans in speaking in her ear. "Don't get cocky because you were a good fuck the there was limited other options and I just needed to use up some energy."

"Please, I got checked when I got home. Can't trust a condom to contain whatever plagues you're riddled with and spreading around the world. Let me know her name once you're done so I can make sure she takes the same precautions." Y/n scoffs pushing him back. "And at least you can say I'm a good fuck. Same can't be said for yourself."

Now that was a boldfaced lie. Any sex since then has been disappointing. But she won't be telling him that to inflate his ego.

"You might just come to regret lying like that to me. But if you want sex with me again, just say so. You don't have to lie to try and provoke me into proving myself." Lando laughs before looking over at the waiting young woman with a small smirk. "But for now I'll just stick to someone I can fuck without needing to have them face away so I can enjoy it."

Cruel and said purposely to hurt and tear into her. Successfully done.

Maybe she will be getting black out drunk tonight. But at least he won't be there to cockblock her if he's leaving.

my man isn’t creepy! i | f1 grid

growing up leclerc au !

fem! leclerc! reader x f1 grid, leclerc family

part i: carlos sainz, daniel ricciardo, oscar piastri, pierre gasly & kika gomes

synopsis. when the youngest leclerc finds her partners’ ‘shrine’ of her, but she’s a leclerc so the red flags aren’t all that red

WARNING(s); i like em crazy y’all, obsessive/possessive behavior, implied stalking/shrines, unhealthy relationship dynamics, sexual implications but no smut

carlos sainz.

“What is it?” You asked, head tilted to the side as you look up at your boyfriend. The Spaniard melted, muttering a curse to himself and running his hands through his thick hair. He felt hot, nervous for what the outcome of this discussion could be.

“Dios mío, ángel, it’s— it is not what you think— nothing bad. I am just embarrassed is all.” He reassured, big hands gripping at your shoulders. But he knew it was a bit bad, even his enabling family members were worried he’d freak you out if you saw. His movements were made to comfort you, but you could tell they were more self-soothing. Arthur had a similar habit whenever you got upset with him, too.

You only frowned, but it fueled Carlos’ panic.

“Mi amor, I will do whatever you ask-! You know this. I will let you in when it’s cleaned, I swear it.” He pulled you into his chest, arms fully embracing you. But you squirmed out of his hold, making him respond with an unhappy attempt to coo you back into comfort.

“You’re hiding something in there, Carlos. This is the first time I’m staying with you in your home since we started dating, let me see.” And at the sight of your big, beautiful, angry eyes, how could he refuse an Angel? With a twitch of his fingers, Carlos unlocked the door without any movement to push it open.

With a short huff, you pushed yourself through the door, only pausing at seeing at the sheer amount of merchandise that covered every surface. It was all you-themed, from posters and cut-outs, down to a body-pillow and even an outfit you’d only worn once for a runway show. There was a glass shelf with your old perfumes, newer ones too, and photos everywhere.

“Carlos….” You began, covering your mouth with your fingers and stepping further in.

“I know—! But I liked you so much before we started seeing each other and I- I am just a passionate man is all, my whole family says so—!” You cut off his red-faced rambling with a beaming grin.

“Ouah! I didn’t know you were a super fan before we met!” You giggled, mumbling to yourself in French about the various things he’d collected. “maybe you are a bit extreme, but it’s kind of cute, no?”

“¿En serio? Sí, mi perla!” He breathed shakily before grinning, “I should have known you’d understand! Mis hermanas se burlaron de mí, ¿sabes? But it was all silly…” (You’re serious? Yes, my pearl! My sisters teased me, you know?)

“What are you saying? Your sisters… something? I’m still learning, mon chéri.” You pout at him, in a much better mood now that you knew what your boyfriend was hiding behind the door he seemed so desperate to keep you away from.

He shook his head, hair messy after having run his fingers through it many times due to stress, “We should have dinner with them tonight while we’re still in Spain, I said. Let’s go back downstairs?”

“Why? Got anything weird?”

“Don’t say things like that, amor!”

♤ ♤ ♤

daniel ricciardo.

“Danny…?”

“Shit-!” He jumped out of surprise, dropping the box he was reaching from the top shelf of the closet.

“Oh, I’m sorry, mon soleil!” You squeaked, jumping back as well. You hadn’t meant to scare him, but it wasn’t your fault he was so focused in the dead of night. You were just curious is all. The box he dropped was was rectangular in shape, but easily bigger than a shoebox. You shot him a sleepy grin, “What do you have there?”

He sighed, shaking his head, “Why are you up, sleepy girl? Get back to bed, I’ll be right there. Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I’m up because you’re up.” You wrinkled your nose, inching closer to him with a small blanket in your arms. You tried to get a glimpse of what fell out of the box, but Daniel wrapped himself around you so you couldn’t see. He wrestled the blanket from your fingers, careful not to be rough with long nails, and threw it over your head with smile.

As you wrestled, your boyfriend only laughed and placed kisses on any part of you he could without being hit by your flying limbs, “Pretty things like you should be asleep. Your brothers would kill me if they knew I disturbed your beauty rest.”

“Are you trying to hide something from me?” You pulled the blanket off your head, hair a mess.

Daniel froze, jaw clenching as he tried to hold a toothy smile. But he didn’t have it in him to lie to you. The moment was completely still, before you finally broke eye contact and crept passed him to see the mess on the floor. You could hear Danny gulp as you plucked the first item from the ground; a pretty, navy blue set of lacy underwear. Yours, yes. But from ages ago, you swore you lost them. Then there were a few pieces of jewelry, a lipstick tube, a silk scrunchie, a press-on nail, a red heel, and two pieces of now-hardened chewing gum. All yours from various points of this past year.

“Daniel,” no, not the first name, he begged internally, squeezing his eyes shut, deciding to just wait for the inevitable disgust and rejection. You never called him by his full first name, only sweet ‘danny’s his way, sometimes ‘mon soleil’ or ‘sunshine’.

“You know you can just ask for my things, yes? You don’t have to take.” You were looking right up at him, navy colored panties still in your hand like you didn’t even mind that he took them. His reasoning couldn’t have been pure, you know that.

You hummed, pulling at his fingers so you can shove the underwear into his balled up fist, “lá.”

“Perfect girl.” He muttered, pulling you back into him and dragging you to bed, “give me the pair you have on then, yeah?”

♤ ♤ ♤

max verstappen.

It wasn’t always like this with you— you used to be just Charles “track terror” Leclerc’s pretty little sister, a little girl. But now it was years later and you’ve become something perfect and irresistible— something he can’t live without. He knows he’d resorted to some immoral, if not a little creepy, behaviors, but it’s not like he’s one of those guys that would ever hurt you. No, you’re a deity to him. He told his sister about his feelings at one point (even thought about showing her the shrine), but she told him— “This is all because you watched You!” The Netflix show that follows a stalker.

So he took down the shrine— moving most of it into his bedside drawer and the rest under his bed. But he realized he didn’t think it all the way through when he had you in his room for the first time; all pretty and perfect and curious.

“Good race, Maxie.” You hopped back onto the bed, your hair bouncing as you landed, “You’re so tense and for what, huh?”

Max had just a little bit of shame about the whole thing, but maybe not too much. I mean, his body definitely felt some kind of physical guilt or something if you’re judging him by the shaking and sweating— but his mind was happy. You were here with him in his home. In fact, the physical reaction might just be from seeing you curled up in his bed. But you’re close to finding out how… intense he was. (As his mother would say.)

“Sorry, lief, I’m just tired and you’re distracting me by being cute.” He smiled down at you as he began to change, “you need a shirt to wear?”

“Yes, s'il te plaît. Hey, can I put my bracelets in here—? oh!” He’d barely turned his back for a second, just long enough to remove his shirt, but that’s all it took for you to pull the drawer open and see the copious amount of photos of you (some edited to have him in them) and unsent love letters.

“It’s not a shrine— I’m not a creep! It’s just some things I made back before we got together—! You weren’t supposed to see them!” He was trying to shove some of the papers back in, but you were already skimming one of the letters.

“Mijn hart,” he winced at seeing the one you had— one of the more unhinged ones. The worst of it was in Dutch, so that worked out for him at least.

“Oh c’mon, Maxie! It’s kind of sweet! You had such a big crush on me! It’s a little hot, even.”

He grew even more red and fidgety at that, “Shit.”

You giggled at the words you could understand before he wrestled the page out of your grip. You grabbed him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before he could stray too far.

“From Max Verstappen-Leclerc, hm?”

♤ ♤ ♤

oscar piastri.

“Can’t I just grab a hoodie, Osc?” You questioned as he held you in place on the counter, from his spot between your legs, still in his race suit.

“You don’t need one, Lovey, it’s hot.” He pressed himself into you so he could feel you breathe better. You’d asked for a jacket the moment you’d entered his freezing trailer just after the race. He saw you go for the closet and quickly redirected you onto the counter.

“Non, you’re hot because you just raced in a little car for hours and now you’re all over me. I am normal temperature.”

“Cold?”

“Yes.”

“Then get closer, I’m hot.”

You huff obnoxiously like the pretty spoiled girl you are and Oscar can feel the rush of serotonin he got just from the sound. He knew this is the part where you’d get cute and pretend to pick a fight, his sweet thing. But bad timing— he’s desperate to hide his secret now.

“I can’t get any closer to you if I trieddd. What? You have a girl hiding in that closet? Hm?” He scoffed into your shoulder, but stiffened, knowing just what was behind that door.

You gasped dramatically, likely playing it up to get what you wanted (a tactic you used with your brothers, Oscar noticed), “You do! Irréelle!”

“I don’t!” His face shot up from your shoulder, brows furrowed, but he didn’t let you go, “You know I don’t like any other girls!”

“Then you need to show me so I can be sure! And I’m still cold.” You crossed your arms and pulled your knees together to get him to back up.

“I can’t.” He choked out. “There’s— it’s just— I have this thing—”

You hopped down and booked it across the trailer before he could reach out and stop you, yanking the door open to see what your new boyfriend was hiding.

You breathed out a dramatic sigh of relief at the sight, “Goodness, Osc.” Rather than finding a person, you instead found some sort of… collection? Collage of yourself and your things? Photos mostly, magazines, and lots of hearts drawn on articles about you.

Oscar grabbed you by the shoulders and quickly spun you around into him, slamming the door, “You saw?”

Looking up at him with big eyes, you nodded, “Yeah, why? You really like me that much?”

“What? Yes— yeah I do. You—? Okay.”

♤ ♤ ♤

pierre gasly. | kika gomes.

“I’m prepared to blame you for this if Charles finds it.” Pierre breathed, looking at the start of his girlfriend’s collection of your things. Kika scoffed, a smile playing at her lips as she re-organizes your makeup. Mostly lip balms, you’d let her borrow some of your things, not knowing she wasn’t going to give any of it back. Kika even managed to get a few skirts from you as well. The small framed photo of you sitting in her vanity was just a personal touch.

Pierre would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed, but he could say he wasn’t surprised. He and Kika were a good couple, a good duo in general, but especially when it came to drawing you in. Because Pierre was such a good friend to Charles, it came pretty easy; Charles was easier on him around you. Unfortunately, that grace didn’t extend to Kika just because they were dating. Charles had something of a sixth sense for when pretty girls liked his pretty sister; so he was on to Kika. Where at the beginning it was nothing to get you alone with them, it was now next to impossible.

“Pierre? Kika? Are you home?” Wow it’s like they could hear your pretty voice— oh wait they gave you a key. To their apartment. In Monaco, where you live and you can really just waltz in and see all of the things they took (—yes they, Pierre is a thief too—)

Like two naughty school children, the couple shot up to cover what they’d done before you could reach their bedroom. This was their fault naturally, none of yours at all, they were the ones who encouraged you to come over whenever physically possible.

“Grab everything and I’ll distract her!” Kika whispered, rushing to slip out of the room.

Before the ‘not fair-’ could slip from his lips, his girlfriend was off to catch you, brushing passed him and leaving the door cracked. He could hear your surprised greeting, a cute squeak escaping you, before Kika saying something like ‘Oh, Pierre is busy now’, then silence. Pulling the handle back just an inch, he peaked outside to see Kika’s lips not even a centimeter from your own, her hands gripping your jacket for dear life.

“Oh, pretty girls, ce n'est tout simplement pas juste.” Slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. Your eyes shot to his, but Kika’s remained trained on your face. After just a second, your gaze drifted to Kika’s vanity behind him.

The couple froze, you saw. Pierre pulled the door shut behind him as Kika’s mouth opened to form words.

“Oi! Get your hands off my little sister, huh? Démon impoli et pratique, seriously.” Charles slipped into the living room from the front hallway, having obviously accompanied his little sister in her visit.

“Non, Charlie, Kika helped me when I almost tripped.” You smiled at your brother, quickly covering for them, “I was just coming to see if I could get my jean skirt back?”

You looked up at her so sweet and she thinks you’re blushing—“Oh.” She squeaked, “yes, no problem. Pierre.”

“I’ll get it for her, mate.”

“surveille ta copine. je ne suis pas aveugle, mate.”

♤ ♤ ♤

Your man (s girlfriend) is definitely creepy, girl.

note; I made kika and pierres a lil longer bc they’re two ppl so yeah ft charles

thinking part ii with lando, mick (ft the schumachers), lewis, lance, alex & lily, george and carmen?

- ren