When George Russell adds the wrong person into the groupchat.

[Landoscar - Lando x Oscar] Lando Norris Didn't Really Want Another Brown-Haired Aussie Teammate, But Oscar Piastri Was Excited To Meet Him, For Some Reason. The Aussie Made The Move From Alpine To McLaren After Some Nonsense From Alpine About A Contract. The Aussie Delt With It Well, Maturity Riddled In His Response. It Made Lando Feel A Little Something For Oscar. But A Boat Trip Had Lando Over The Edge. Will It Become Something Else? Find Out!

Lando Norris is the campus celebrity-streamer, showman, always surrounded by laughter and admirers. Yet, no matter how many fans orbit him, his gaze fixes on one boy. He sneaks into classes he doesn't belong in, always with chocolate milk just for excuses, and blurts it out without shame. "I want you." Oscar Piastri isn't like the others. He's quiet, focused, an archer on scholarship who builds his life out of discipline. Where Lando is loud, Oscar is steady. Where Lando craves attention, Oscar avoids it. And every time Lando appears at his side, Oscar pushes him back. "What do you want from me this time?" Oscar demands, arms crossed. But things shift when Lando hits a breaking point-his manuscript thrown away, his heart cracked open in front of George and Max. Rumors flood the internet after a livestream slip, whispers of "Landoscar" spreading faster than either can stop. Oscar watches from the shadows, jealousy gnawing at him when Paul or even Kimi hover too close. He does things he swore he wouldn't. Saves the manuscript, copies notes for Charles just to get Lando's address. "I want-Lando's home address." Charles blinked in disbelief. "No. Nope. Not you. You'd never pull a stunt like this. You. Hate. Lando." But hate was never the truth. Jealousy was. Fear was. And when Oscar showed up at Lando's apartment, the walls finally broke. "O-Oscar...?" Lando whispered, clinging to the doorframe. And in the quiet of that moment, he admits the words he's hidden for too long. Oscar confesses, his voice trembling. Oscar wants Lando to choose him. Still. Always. And then-raw, unfiltered, aching- "I've lost. I've fallen for you. Again and again. I can't fight it anymore." Reality was messy, though. Promises whispered with hooked pinkies, nights tangled on the sofa in pajamas. "You're sure, none of this is from some stupid dare?"

Max Verstappen has everything-money, confidence, and a trail of headlines that never seem to stop following him. Owner of V Square, adored and hated in equal measure, he lives loud. Too loud. And then there's George Russell-calm, composed, a fashion designer whose brand Maison Joré defines quiet luxury. Where Max is chaos, George is order. Where Max flirts, George builds. And somehow, they collide in the middle of it all. "Morning, darling." Max teases, leaning on George's desk. "Don't call me that." They don't make sense. They argue in showrooms and fall asleep on opposite sides of the couch, always meeting again somewhere in between. But when George finds out that Max's past isn't as buried as he thought, the chaos breaks loose. "If you want me to trust you," George says, voice trembling, "then clean it up. All of it." So Max does-chasing ghosts, making amends, trying to prove that change isn't just a word he throws around. Somewhere along the way, his laughter gets softer. His touch steadier. His eyes only on George. When he returns, it isn't with grand gestures or expensive gifts-just quiet honesty. "I'm not perfect," Max admits. "But I'm done running." George exhales, half-smiling. "You're insane." "And you love it." sometimes, the heart doesn't untie. it learns to stay tangled.

Charles and Max, fierce rivals for years, share a drunken night that blurs the line between them. Days later, Charles suggests a reckless arrangement, and Max agrees, driven by his growing, unrequited love. Their secret is further complicated by the fact they both have girlfriends, entangling them in a web of guilt and forbidden emotions. P.S. I also post this on Ao3 under the same username!

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

~ Landoscar story ~ Lando and Oscar haven't been teammates for very long but they do get along quite well, maybe too well. Oscar catches himself feeling something for his fellow driver. Hiding it becomes more and more difficult, especially when Lando is sending ambiguous signals. Will their story finally be a love story? ""I attended the grand prix in Imola and secretly watched the podium ceremony where Lando looked so ... divine, his head proudly raised and his tongue sticking out during the champagne fight, very cocky and ... "Oi Osc, you have some drool there, were you dreaming of me?" I snap out of my daydream and immediately blush."" Some oneshots at the end of this story Englisch isn't my first language so please excuse little mistakes. This is also my first fanfic, don't be too harsh. I hope you enjoy the story at least a little bit :) tumblr: papayapillowprincess ao3: likeawinner481

One night. That's all it was supposed to be. But Lando is not okay - and Oscar sees too much. Now they're tangled in something. Something unexpected. Or short: another landoscar story

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.

Max doesn't really have anyone to talk to after his dad beat the shit out of him, and he stumbles across his old diary, if he can't talk, why not write? Charles, also has no one to talk to, ferarri is doing him dirty as shit and he had a little moment and cut himself, again, he also stumbles upon his diary, he can't talk either, so why not write? TW!!! : there will be intimate actions, swear words, and also gay stuff, if you can not handle any of the above, DO NOT READ THIS!