Las aventuras de ManoloPro en Ao3
Más o menos mucho F1
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I‘m afraid only one person has ever truly understood me (and I fucking hate the guy) by acertifiedwitch63
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
11 Jul 2026
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“... and of course it helps that you two have known each other for such a long time! After all those years in F1 you two must know each other's driving style and mentality pretty well!”
And really that was the crux of it wasn't it? That was the issue. There was too much history there. Too many unspoken issues between them. Too much tension. More than two people meant to work as a team should ever have to deal with. He had known George Russell in almost all stages of their lives, and he had fully expected his own retirement to mark the final one. Apparently not though. He really should have known better; there was simply no escaping the guy.
Screw it. He would let them try their hand at convincing George Russell to drive for his team. Max could probably count on him to decline, anyway. There was no chance he would accept. No chance in hell.
...
“I’d love to have that chance to go and race around the Nordschleife.”
Oh that sick son of a bitch.
Or
Post-F1 Russtappen as forced proximity teammates for the Nürburgring 24 hours, where old feelings rekindle between them (even if they aren't entirely sure what kind of feelings).
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Alpha.
Max nearly choked.
No! Absolutely not.
...or in which Max's Omega has some very, very different views of a fellow driver.
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Lando attaches the blushy, pouty photo and sends it, then locks his phone and drops it onto the carpet beside him, staring up at the ceiling.
There’s a pause, stretching suspiciously long.
A faint click echoes through the call. Mute. Then unmute again.
“Sorry,” OP says when he comes back, his voice rougher now. “Thought someone was at the door.”
Or: Lando loses an F1 championship and signs up for a charity Minecraft speedrunning tournament to cope with his existential crisis. Turns out his coach, faceless speedrunning champion OP81, might be a bit of a fanboy.
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Lando’s been using phantom touch on his soulmate for ages—small things, harmless things, just enough to keep himself entertained. A tap here, a brush there. Nothing serious.
Until one painfully boring debrief, he decides to tickle them.
Across the room, Oscar Piastri chokes, jerks, and falls clean out of his chair.Lando suddenly isn’t bored anymore.