What if...Charles Leclerc is a four time World Champion. And Max Verstappen? Forever the runner up. But in 2026, the balance shifts. New rules. A reborn Red Bull. And a fire in Max that's never burned hotter. Max sees his chance to finally claim the title that's always slipped away. This season isn't about glory, it's personal...and maybe some lines start to blur along the way. Who will come out on top? And who will be left in the dirty air? A Lestappen story ✨

Landoscar, Galex, with a side of aggressive Max Verstappen and a confused Charles Leclerc. This train ride is full of mystery and unexpected love. But how well do these six men perform under pressure, when they are the only ones left alive on a still-moving train?

"𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒌 𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒉𝒆'𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒕." Oscar stopped sleeping in his own bed. He spent his nights down the hall instead...wrapped in stolen hours, whispered promises, and a woman who he considered his equal. Ivy moved through his life like smoke...beautiful, dangerous, impossible to hold onto. Their connection lived behind closed doors, in the dark, in the moments no one was supposed to see. It wasn't safe. It wasn't smart. But it was inevitable. Then one night, something shifts. Everything feels wrong after that. Phones go unanswered. The streets reveal what they've always been. Because in this city, love is rarely innocent and as Oscar know in his line of work, secrets don't stay buried forever. He learns that some doors, once opened, can never be closed again... ✨ 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝟏 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝟐

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 ✔ ꒰ ❄️ ꒱ ࿐ ࿔ 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇... ꒱ ↷🖇 A rookie driver finds his heart in the snow lane. ❪ oliver bearman x fem!oc ❫ ❪ christmas novella ❫ ❪ ©-violetttdays 2025 ❫

You know the drill... When Formula One decides to break away from the FIA towards the end of the 2025 season, the entire sport is scrapped until Liberty Media can make up the money lost in court and find a replacement for the governing body of motorsport. No one knows what to do with themselves. Not the crumbling sport, not the fans and certainly not the drivers. They are all left to wallow in a shower of missed opportunities and to just wait. Until six young, idiot millionaires persuade an older, possibly more idiot millionaire into a plan that could only be described as one thing : a bad idea. To buy a cabin in the middle of the French Alps to host the Christmas of a lifetime. An F1 Christmas. DISCLAIMERS!! -Only a number of ships mentioned (listed in tags if you want to know) -Very simular to my old F1 house book, however this is its own version for christmas that DOES NOT follow on from Mad house -All fiction and doesn't follow real events

When P81 received the contract to put a bullet in a racing driver's head for twenty million pounds, he assumed it was an enraged fan or rival. Yet, there was more to this story than what meets the eye. And that was immediately apparent when his target locked eyes with him through the scope of his rifle. This is so bad don't read it gng 💔

Basically Oscar's Spiderman, and him and Lando are in F4. Or Two F4 rookies. Broken in their own ways. Oscar - quiet, with reflexes that whisper of something inhuman, shadows moving differently when he's near. Lando - loud, sharp-tongued, hiding a storm of pain behind every cruel joke. On the track, they race. In the city, Oscar becomes something else entirely - a silent guardian with impossible skills, weaving through night streets like a predator. Racing isn't just a sport for them. It's survival. English isn't my first language, so please be nice. (Will that statement make you read it? 😏) (This description's so bad because I can't be bothered to fix it)

⚠️ If you choose to read this text, please treat it as a story about violence-something to be seen, named, and condemned, not affirmed. ⚠️ At St. Augustine's School, everything has its hierarchy-from the names carved into marble plaques to the seating in the cafeteria. Charles Leclerc, a scholarship student from a working-class family, knows that surviving here requires perfection. He has the talent, ambition, and determination to rise out of poverty. Max Verstappen, on the other hand, has everything Charles could envy: a name, power, money, and the loyalty of the school's elite. Between them grows something neither of them can understand-a mixture of desire, fear, and fascination that leads them to the edge of a precipice. In a world where the line between love and violence blurs more with each passing day, both will have to look in the mirror and ask themselves: can you love someone who has torn you apart piece by piece? And can you save someone who has never learned how to ask for help? ⚠️ Content Warning: ⚠️ This story pushes moral boundaries and addresses heavy, potentially triggering themes, including violence, toxic relationships, homophobia, manipulation, unrequited love, loneliness, and grief. It also contains vulgar language. The author's intent is not to glorify or normalize any form of violence. Every difficult, painful, and uncomfortable scene is purposeful-not meant to shock, but to highlight real issues many people struggle with in silence. All depicted situations are fictional.

Oscar Piastri was never supposed to matter. Quiet. Precise. Sharp. He moved through the world like a straight line-disciplined, steady, predictable. He didn't chase anyone. He didn't flirt. He didn't smile unless necessary. And yet, he kept finding Lando. A chocolate bar left on a desk. A sticky note in looping handwriting. A soft voice beside Lando's ear. "This is for you. Eat, please." Lando hated it. Hated the way Oscar seemed to anticipate his next move. Hated the hand that appeared just to shield him from bumping into corners. Hated the look in Oscar's eyes-slow, deliberate, almost gentle. One afternoon, under a sunlit tree, Oscar said, "Your star hairclip suits you. You look cute today." No one had ever watched Lando that closely. No one had seen past the showmanship, past the bravado. He pulled away. Snapped. Ran. Heart pounding, throat tight. And Oscar? He stayed. Patient. Quiet. Collecting the pieces of Lando's chaos like it was natural. The strangest thing, when others got too close to Oscar, Lando stiffened. His tone sharpened. "Why him? He doesn't even look at you properly." Oscar's voice was soft, patient. "Lando, why do you care?" "I... I don't. Just forget it," Lando muttered, looking away. He didn't care. But Oscar kept choosing him. In small ways, unnoticed ways, the kind that made Lando's chest tighten. If Oscar was pretending, Lando's heart might not survive. But if he wasn't, then maybe Lando was already falling. Hard. And he wasn't sure he wanted to stop.