Ships : Lance Stroll / Esteban , Background: Webbonso

REQUEST ARE OPEN :

1. Only F1 RPF / Football RPF

2. Only Driver X Driver / Footballer X Footballer ( ❌ X OC or X reader )

3. Not smut / nsfw ( okay for some innuendo but nothing explicit )

4. I write about specific ships , if your ship is not here so I don't write it ( they can be a Background ships ) :

✓✓ : it's a ship I KNOW

✓ : it's a ship I know we'll

~ : it's a ship where i'm not sure to write well

• : It's a ship where I don't read a lot of fic

| : Only in a platonic way

-- F1--

- Maxiel ( ✓)

- Brocedes (~)

- Yukierre (✓)

- Lesteban (✓)

- Webbonso(✓✓)

- Landoscar (~)

- Charlos (✓)

- Hulknussen (~)

- Galex ( ~ )

- Simi(•)

- Versainz ( | )

- CarCar ( | )

--Football--

- Gadri ( ✓)

- Eric Garcia/ Ferran ( ~ )

- Cubayamal ( ✓ )

- Cressi ( ~ )

- Serard ( ✓✓ )

- Jude / Mbappé ( ✓ )

- Bravertz ( ~ )

5. I'm okay with any type of trope except those who are illegal/immoral ( Mafia Au ✓ / Brother-in-law or Step-brother ❌ )

6. I give myself the right to refuse requests

(I'll often give an explanation but I won't force myself to do it if I don't see the point)

7. I only write in the third person , I don't care if it's a pov omniscient, internal or external ( like you want )

8. I can write in English or in French

That's it !

You can ask me in " Writing request/ ask "

Bye ! 👋

How to love? -Cubyamal/Nyamal

(500 words )

--------------------------------------

Yamal couldn't fall asleep, no matter how tired he was, but blue eyes probing his soul and the vague memory of a late-night call kept him from falling into the arms of Morpheus. He was looking forward to a new season with his beloved club, he was even terribly impatient, but it wasn't this feeling that kept him awake. Rather, it was the waiting. Slow and winding, it seeped through his veins like a devilishly effective poison. He'd tried everything: training, playing video games, endless surfing on the Internet, but nothing helped. The thought of football was like a leech on his psyche, occupying all the space in his brain that wasn't dedicated to soccer. Sometimes he feared it might become an obsession - it probably already was - but he preferred to deny it a little longer. Accepting it would mean he'd already fallen too far, and that even if he tried, he'd never be able to get back up.

This admiration mixed with pride and "slight" affection liked to disguise itself as love. A word far too terrifying for the adolescent Lamine. Not that he shunned it, or had ever known anything approaching it. It was rather the realization and acceptance that it had always accompanied his steps since he'd met those bluish irises, that made him frightened.

Did he love too much?

Or not enough?

Was it obvious?

Or perhaps too clingy?

Should he pull away to give himself some personal space?

Or get even closer?

Fortunately, he doesn't ask himself these myriad questions every day, or he'd go mad. But in these quiet moments, without the weight of trophies and titles on his shoulders, Yamal becomes a sentimentalist.

He's learned to despise, to detest, to hate.

He learned to weep, to lament, to regret.

He learned to covet, to leer, to envy.

But has he learned to love?

He's not heartless.

Far from it.

But when you realize that you've loved the same person for so many years without realizing it, it's overwhelming. He'd never felt that way with his exes, let alone his friends. A simple but brutal realization hit him in pre-season.

He had never learned not to love Pau.

Their relationship didn't slowly evolve from friendship to love. No. From the outset, it was an affection far too great and particular for them to fit into a box like "childhood friend". And it's fair to say that the love he felt for his friend was obvious, almost written into their destiny. A love that anyone would have seen, looked at, questioned. But that wasn't even the case, because Pau loved in silence, and Yamal followed only his own desires - which were often in line with those of the Catalan -.

This link, which had been the basis of his relationship with others and which he had never questioned until now, resembled a large ball of wool that now had to be untangled, each thread being a memory, a moment, an emotion.

But Yamal wasn't the thinking type, so he left that to his soulmate, the dark-haired man being smart enough for both. So he gently pressed the green call icon, the sound of the answering machine being the umpteenth wait until the object of his desire.

"Lamine? Why did you call me?" asked Pau with a growl.

A soft warmth enveloped him at the sound of the older man's voice.

Fuck....

He's really hooked.

- For nothing."

--

Inspired by my obsession around Cubayamal , the fic of @lecfoscism and his work in general. ( READ THEIR FICS ! )

I hope you liked it !

phone case for the CHARLOS FEST 2025 !! :

( I thought my phone was going to die because of the layers on Canva😓)

Anyways !

HAPPY CHARLOS FEST !!

" His husband "

Chapter : 2/3

Words : 5500

Summary :

Tag : fluff , domestic fluff , misunderstanding

Daniel had thought it was a dream when Max had called him that, but had he really just said that? A beatific smile formed on his lips as Max fell asleep, oblivious to the impact of his words.

Or 5 times Max inadvertently calls Daniel "his husband" and once he says it knowingly.

Miffy X Max Verstappen :

Another version :

Inspired by this little image and my F1-addicted mind ( also @sillystappen and giov ( Idk her username 😭 ) )

I actually write a fic , but idk what type of student would be Eric Garcia:

The idea seems very interesting 👀👀

And yes

IT'S TIME FOR FERIC PROPAGANDA🗣️‼️‼️

Okay I have a super random Feric headcanon inspired by a dream I had last night

An AU where Eric is a real estate agent (he always wears glasses in this. I know you all and Ferran would appreciate it) and Ferran wants to buy a house of course BUT he always brings Pedri with him (because he needs someone with working braincells to help him make the right decision). So Eric thinks that they are a couple looking for a place together and never tries anything with Ferran until one day where another guy (= Gavi) tags along as well and Eric thinks "oh my god he has TWO BOYFRIENDS?? HOW CAN I COMPETE WITH THAT" but then finally finds out that neither of them is dating Ferran, they are just his best friend and his best friend's boyfriend - not only that, he also finds out that Ferran is SINGLE and yeah they end up hooking up on the couch of one of the houses Eric is showing him because fuck professionalism and work ethics

*for those who are interested (= nobody): my random dream was that Ferran took part in an Italian tv show where people who want to buy a house are shown three houses by three different real estate agents and at the end of the episode they have to pick one

Your Majesty Pedri

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64711093/chapters/166258837

SUMMARY :

"- So what? If I were a prince, I'd have allocated all the funds for culture to rebuilding the Camp Nou! And on top of that I'd have been called Sir! Just imagine! Sir Pablo Gavira, thank you for saving Barça, that's really stylish, isn't it? Gavi tried to explain with a conspiratorial air.

- That's not how it works, it would have been funnier otherwise. sighed the older, smiling at the younger's crazy ideas. And anyway, being a football player is better, they'd have called me Pedri instead of 'Prince' everywhere, and I could have stayed in the family restaurant with my brother and my parents.

- Mhmmm.... So, I don't think I can take you back to your parents straight away, but at least I can call you Pedri! "

Or Gavi, who falls in love with the most unlikely person in Spain, Prince Pedro González López, aka Pedri.

My early Christmas gift 🎁 :

CHRISTMAS LETTER

Ship : Yukierre ( Yuki X Pierre ) and Charlos ( Charles X Carlos ) in background

Tag : Fluff

Word : around 2000 words

-------------------------------------------------

Yuki scanned the 'thing' in front of him with fear and curiosity. There were no other words to describe what looked like a pile of biscuits straight out of a Ketamine workshop. The smell of burning made the Japanese man cough as he opened the windows, sending a quick apology to his neighbours who would have to smell this filth on New Year's Eve.

Now it was time to look for the culprit of this culinary crime, so he chose not to throw the biscuits away despite the nauseating smell, and went to investigate. The first thing he found was Charles gazing lovingly at his partner, Carlos, dancing to the applause and laughter of the other guests. The Monegasque wasn't the most skilful with a whip or a knife, but he knew how to manage a minimum, he wasn't at his boyfriend's level, but as the days and months went by, his level had increased significantly.

Nevertheless, Charles had never tried his hand at pastry-making, and where Carlos excelled, Charles excelled, golf being a perfect example of that. The Spaniard could pride himself on having made some magnificent swings, while his companion struggled to hit the ball, dropping it three quarters of the time into the water, which made him wonder whether he should become a diver instead of a pilot. So the question arose, and Yuki was definitely not known for his tact.

"Charles? Did you bring us biscuits? It's nice, but it was definitely not necessary. Asked Yuki, pointing to the experiment that boasts the name of edible food.

- Oh, that! It was already here when Carlos and I came, we hesitated to throw it out but we kept it here because of the note next to it.

Yuki frowned at the Francophone's explanation, there had been no words when he'd seen the pile of 'defective' biscuits, perhaps he hadn't been paying enough attention? Or looked carefully enough? He thanked the older man for his answer and went to check the kitchen again, looking for the overcooked biscuits.

After having to greet at least five people to get to his favourite room in the house, he was surprised to discover that the pile had disappeared! He would have said good riddance, but with it, the paper that had intrigued him had also magically evaporated.

So he resumed his little investigation, this time in search of the mysterious thief or gourmet, although he doubted it very much, who had stolen a note that was surely intended for him. After all, everyone knew that the kitchen was Yuki's territory, and those who had forgotten must have remembered to their cost. Daniel sometimes stroked his head, remembering the blows he'd received from the Japanese when he'd let his greed do the talking on New Year's Eve last year. It had amused the crowd, but it had also made it clear that if anyone entered this sacred place without the Asian's permission, they would receive his wrath or worse.

The only one who was guaranteed never to receive any physical punishment was Pierre, the Frenchman who enjoyed immunity thanks to his status as, and I quote: "Boyfriend of the paddock's favourite gremlin". This made more than one person smile, especially Pierre who enjoyed his privilege as he saw fit, having fun annoying the Asian while he was cooking, distracting him either by showing him videos while he had to watch the dough, or by incorporating new ingredients himself. Luckily Yuki was a real chef, the Asian redoubling his ingenuity to hide his partner's blunders, often making his dishes even more succulent. Definitely, the duo worked like clockwork.

Well, not necessarily, or at least not any more, given the Frenchman's smile of both laughter and regret as he ventured into his partner's realm. His eyes averted, he placed the object of the Asian's covetousness in front of him, embarrassment showing on his face. In the end, Yuki didn't need to make any enquiries, the source came to him, perhaps he had such a force of attraction that problems were solved as soon as he knew they existed. He'd talk to Lance about it, I'm sure he'd understand.

"So? Did you make his biscuits? he asked, looking frankly unconvinced by his boyfriend's cooking skills.

- It was supposed to be a surprise, but Esteban's just tasted them, and he's throwing up in the toilet right now. So I thought I'd take them out quickly before you discover them. Explained the Frenchman with a slightly proud smile. Definitely, anything that could make the life of his French colleague more miserable was beneficial to him.

- Don't try to cook on your own again! You're wasting ingredients for nothing. exclaimed Yuki, Pierre's face breaking down at his boyfriend's remark.

- Come on Yuki! I wanted to please you! I even wrote you a little note! Pierre defended himself, taking the Japanese man in his arms and quickly stealing a kiss. Yuki let out a quick insult in his native tongue and his cheeks flushed at the chestnut's amorous gesture.

The Japanese man, finally overcome by his partner's murmurs of love, took the pretty decorated Christmas card from the older man's hands. The many drawings on it surprised him as he opened it, seeing his initials and Pierre's, his name in Japanese and a whole bunch of other terribly useless but endearing scribbles, which framed his boyfriend's message.

"Dear Yuki,

It's been 3 years since we celebrated our Christmas together, I would have told you that it's only the food that has embellished these moments with you, but you surely know that there are many other things.

Here's a non-exhaustive list:

• Your little mumbles in Japanese when you're angry or thinking

• Your habit of talking while you sleep (you've already confessed to me 4 times like that)

•Your cheeks that turn red as soon as it's less than 5 degrees.

•Your addiction to fry chicken

• Your Christmas jumpers that are too big (I've bought you a new one, by the way, look on our bed)

•Decorating the tree is becoming a competition with you

•Your long phone calls with your family, while you cry because you can't see your nieces (there's something waiting for you there with the jumper)

•Your fear of Father Christmas (it's just because he's bigger than you, admit it)

•Your collection of collector's snowballs.

And many more, but I don't have the space to write them all down.

Every holiday I spend with you makes me want to celebrate Christmas every day, just to see your excitement over the presents and the look of pride on your face when you see someone enjoying yours.

I hope we can all celebrate together.

Pierre, your beloved boyfriend

To my favourite elf."

Yuki felt tears fall down her cheeks, her vision blurring as a result. His boyfriend was sometimes stupid, even very stupid, but he loved him and it was during these moments that he remembered him the most.

"Me too.... He whispered as he leaned his head against the chest of the man he liked to call his soul mate, he'd never tell him, it would give him too much of a headache.

The Frenchman's heart quickened at his boyfriend's words, he hadn't expected him to cry, Pierre wasn't the best at comforting. But his arms would always be there to support him, whether in moments of joy or sadness, after all it was his duty as his boyfriend. And he would never fail in this task. Because Yuki deserved it, he deserved this tenderness and this love, and the Japanese man had to realise this sooner or later, because the Frenchman would remind him of it for the rest of his life.

- Is that all? I expected more, given everything I've written. Pierre commented with an amused smile, a lack felt deep inside him as he felt the youngest leave his arms.

- I've already complimented your shopping list enough! replied Yuki, trying to sound annoyed, the tears in the corner of his eyes making him lose all credibility.

Pierre laughed at his words, his hand taking the younger man's, leading them towards their bedroom where a gift wrapped on their bed was waiting, the Frenchman's apprehension growing as he saw Yuki quickly tear open the gift packet, his eyes lit up with curiosity.

These were soon extinguished by the tasteless garment in front of him. A picture of a shrinking man with the phrase "I love my PETIT-ami* " and the usual Christmas motifs in the background. He changed his jumper, however, putting on the new one, which was once again too big for him. He was sure that Pierre was now deliberately bringing back one size larger, but he was giving him the benefit of the doubt, after all he had taken the time to write him a letter.

While he was putting on his top, he saw some plane tickets at the bottom of the gift packet. Pierre had prepared a trip for them? But there were far too many, the date on the tickets had expired, and the destination was Italy. And just as he was about to question his boyfriend, the latter covered his eyes with his hands, whispering to him to turn round and wait a few seconds. Yuki hesitated to bite him, Pierre deserved to be bitten for the jumper, and was about to do so when Pierre took his hands away from his eyes, letting him see several people in front of him shouting "Suprise! ".

His vision finally clear, he recognised his niece running into his arms, her expression shocked as he turned towards Pierre who was smiling lovingly at him. The amazement in his eyes as he heard his family talking to him.

"It's not thanks to me, it's thanks to them. Pierre whispered, pointing to his nieces as he left to let Yuki enjoy her time with her family.

- Your Prince Charming took us on a tour of Italy! exclaimed the youngest.

- How did he do that?

He'd often complained to Pierre about not being able to see his nieces because of the time difference, or even the shopping schedules that never coincided with their school holidays.

- He called Mum on 3 November to talk about our trip. It took a while, but we managed! explained the taller of the two.

Yuki had felt hurt when Pierre hadn't wanted to spend the night with him after the victory, but that was to prepare his Christmas surprise.

The hours passed like that, his family and friends mingling under the mistletoe, the smell of gingerbread and the fir tree towering above them. Finally came the time to say goodbye, his close friends returning home while some of his family stayed in the many guest rooms.

And as he cradled his youngest niece, he spotted Pierre admiring them from the corner of the door. He finally finished his story over the snores of the youngest, and joined the one he could now call 'mine'.

The two whispered a sweet phrase to each other, close to falling into Orpheus's arms.

"Joyeux Noël Yuki"

" メリークリスマス Pierre"

End.

---------------

* Petit-ami = boyfriend in french and literally " Little friend ".

* Joyeux Noël = Merry Christmas, same for Yuki.

I'm reluctant to write another little one-shot like this, I had to do it for the Yukierre because I love this ship and it doesn't get enough attention. I hope you enjoyed it.