#daniel riccardo x reader

[dannyriccsystem]

i love your writing!! i was wondering if you could do something where the drivers realize/react to another driver having a crush on their girlfriend 🤭 need some jealous vibes

thank you 🫶🏼

EVERYBODY FALLS IN LOVE SOMEHOW!

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER TEXTS

SUMMARY: The drivers let you know another driver has a crush on you

WARNINGS: Jealousy, crack, drivers being delusional

FEATURING: MV1, DR3, LN4, KA12, CL16, YT22, LH44, CS55, GR63, OP81, OB87

NOTE: For most of them I used their teammates. This was request #21 I believe!

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

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KIMI ANTONELLI - KA12

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CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

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YUKI TSUNODA - YT22

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ALEX ALBON - AA23

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LEWIS HAMILTON - LH44

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CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

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GEORGE RUSSELL - GR63

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OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

—

OLIVER BEARMAN - OB87

[no-144444]

the grid: No Nut November!

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Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Arthur LeClerc.

thank you to the person that requested this!!!

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Oscar Piastri: wouldn’t do it. 

Even if every driver on the grid was offering 1,000€ each as a prize, he was not giving up fucking you for an entire month. 

Even though he looks like a sweetie pie he would absolutely be a freak in the sheets and he was not about to give up the only way he actually gets his frustration out (aka fucking you). 

Everyone kind of boos him for it but then half way through the month he gets to be smug while they’re all miserable and complaining, because he can fuck his girlfriend whenever he wants. 

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Lando Norris: would try, but definitely fail. 

He wouldn’t care about the prize, he’d just have such a ‘how hard can it be?’ attitude. 

Newsflash: extremely. 

You would not make it easy for him either; wearing the sluttiest clothes, basically giving him fuck me eyes all the time, enjoying it when you see him get hot and bothered. 

He snaps on his birthday, and fucks you for hours straight. You can barely walk the next day. 

He decides to own up and pay his part of the bet with no shame, he has a hot girlfriend and he likes fucking her, sue him! 

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Lewis Hamilton: wouldn’t even try

He’s uninterested in the things most of the grid do in their spare time, and he knows they’re uninterested in him too. They don't need to know about his sex life, but what people can guess is that it is very much alive. 

I mean… you two had a baby literally 8 months after your wedding, to the day. 

The other 3 kids don't exactly help his case… 

He’d say yes, just so he could be added to the group chat and he would tell you who is winning and losing.

He’d lose on the first day with no shame. Everyone knows he's just here for the public shaming of others. 

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George Russell: would win

Not saying he’s not a freak in the sheets, but he would set up the entire thing (group chat, the money pool, etc.) and he cannot be seen lacking. 

Even if it wasn’t his idea, he still needed to win. 

You do make the entire month absolute torture though. 

Matching sets, showing as much skin as possible, everything. 

Even walking around the apartment naked. 

But somehow, he doesn’t budge. 

At the end of the month he does fuck you for ages, and you literally cant get out of bed, let alone follow him to a race. He tells the media you’re sick and all of the drivers have the dirtiest laughs as he explains. Despite every question, they keep their mouths shut. 

George did announce that he won at the end, much to your chagrin. 

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Alex Albon: he’d last a while

 He would honestly be pretty good. 

He kind of breaks the rules, he constantly gives you oral and jerking himself off, but it wasn’t specifically stated in the rules (apart from the name… but whatever)

He makes it like halfway through the month until a particularly bad race result. 

He fucks you all night. 

When you both get to the paddock in the morning, George pays him a visit to collect the money like the smug bastard he is. 

He heard you two last night. 

He was 4 doors down. 

Oops. 

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Franco Colapinto: he’s the one who accidentally tells the press. 

We all know Franco is awful at keeping his mouth shut, and in an interview he somehow lets it slip that he needed to find George to give him money. 

They ask him what for. 

He says ‘the bet’ and explains that they’re doing NNN this year and that he lost. 

It was worth it though, you two hadn’t seen each other in months (you were busy in uni, he was busy at races) and he just had to have you. 

He made it like a quarter of the way into the month. 

He didn't really care. 

The drivers honestly just found it funny that he told the media. 

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Logan Sargeant: would make it most of the way, but just fall short by like 4 days.

He had done so well, ignoring all of your sexual advances for the majority of the month…

Then he got drunk. 

Drunk Logan and drunk you? Yeah, you’re fucking. 

He couldn’t keep his hands off you, and he paid the price. 

He paid up sheepishly the next day, George looked at him with the smuggest smile ever. 

Logan didn’t even care. He fucked you twice as much as before. 

He has to make up for lost time, right? 

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Daniel Riccardo: he would lose immediately.

This man is a 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀 

He would kind of do the same thing as Lewis, pay to just watch the rest of them loose. 

He does last a little bit longer though (in their eyes).

 He doesn’t pay up until the second week even though he’s been fucking you the entire time. 

He has absolutely no shame about it either. 

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Liam Lawson: he would almost win.

He's such a cutie. I think he’d somehow abstain for a while. 

He’d get to around the 26th, and then give up. 

The month was torture though. 

You literally would beg him every night, and he would just have to say no. 

You were impressed at how long he lasted. 

But then he gave in after he scored points in mexico...

Yuki ratted him out to George, he was very embarrassed.

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Charles LeClerc: he would lose immediately.

Charles is an idiot. 

He would lose the first day by accident, and then try to pretend that it doesn't count until George actually comes knocking on his drivers room door looking for the money. 

He heard you, of course. 

Charles reluctantly watches the rest of the month play out, bitter that his own forgetfulness took him out so early. 

He vows to win next year. 

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Carlos Sainz: wouldn’t do it. 

He’s not giving up fucking you for a month. No way. 

He also wouldn’t be interested in the sex lives of others enough to even pay into it like Lewis. 

His sex life is his own, and as much as he loves healthy competition, this is a race he’s happy to lose. 

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Max Verstappen: would be a huge bitch all month.

Dude is like a moody teenager when he’s not getting it. 

Daniel persuades him to do it and he makes it a few days in.

Literally turns into the biggest moody bitch ever.

By the 8th day everyone is begging you to just fuck him so he’ll stop being such a cunt to them.

You do. 

He pays up and spends the rest of the month fucking you. 

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Paul Aron: he would almost win.

He would last pretty long. Like maybe more than half the month

Despite his playboy facade, he’s actually more into cuddles and shit like that. 

 But after a bad race…

Yeah, he pays up with zero shame. 

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Arthur LeClerc: he would lose, in two ways. 

Y’know how quickly Charles lost, yeah he’d be worse.

He wouldn’t forget, he’d just think that he can get away with fucking you all month but of course, that doesn’t happen.

George comes knocking after Charles tells him he can hear you two.

You are deeply embarrassed that your boyfriend's brother heard you two having sex, and you impose a ban for the rest of the month. 

You say it’ll help you both be more aware of when and where you’re doing it, and how to not get caught by his brother again. 

He curses out his brother the next time he sees him.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[mirohlayo]

F1 DRIVERS SLEEPING WITH YOU

FOR THE FIRST TIME

( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )

warning : none, full of fluff

note : cutest thing I've ever written (I say that to every fics I write)

─ OSCAR PISTRI

Boy is half excited and half nervous. He's already dreading the moment, imagining all the possible scenarios in his head. What is he supposed to do? Stay on the side of your bed? Wrap his arms around you? Tangle his legs with yours? He's beyond stressed, and the very idea that you don't feel comfortable makes him panic even more. But the relief he felt when you just snuggled up to him. It was just... natural. His arms naturally wrapped around you as he gently stroked your hair, your head on his chest. He was soothed, and couldn't hold back a slight smile, feeling his body warm up, feeling his heart overflowing with love.

─ LANDO NORRIS

He plays it cool, confident, but inside he can't deny the fact that he's slightly panicking. Since the very day he met you, being head over heels for you, he has imagined this scenario hundreds of times. Obviously, he dreamed of finally sleeping with you, feeling your body fit perfectly with his and just being able to cuddle you all night. So when the day finally arrives, he tries to act as he imagined in his head. Both lying on the bed, he didn't wait a single second before pulling you against him, holding you tightly so that you couldn't escape. His cheeks are probably very pink, but it's adorable, just like the way you fell asleep. In each other's arms.

─ CHARLES LECLERC

He comes out of your bathroom after changing into his pajamas, and ends up finding you already ready for sleep, lying in your bed, which is now getting ready to be shared with your boyfriend. This is the first time you're going to sleep together. This information seems to paralyze Charles, who remains planted against the doorframe, not knowing if he should come join you now. You giggle weakly, seeing him completely lost and... a little embarrassed. When he sees you open your arms to encourage him to come join you, he is already nestling his head in the crook of your neck the next second, his arms around your waist. Oh and, no need to add that it was the best night of his life.

─ CARLOS SAINZ

You are already lying in bed, side by side. It must have been a good 5 minutes since you moved, not really knowing what to do. You would love to snuggle up against him, but maybe that's too much for a first night together? That's definitely not what Carlos thinks, who noticed that you were, well... not comfortable in your own bed. He slowly turns towards you, smiling softly at you, as if you were the most beautiful wonder in the world, before pressing your head against his chest, with a gentle gesture. Your body presses against him naturally, as he begins to caress your back lightly. He places a quick kiss on your hair, wishing you both a good night.

─ LEWIS HAMILTON

His heart melts just at the thought of finally being able to sleep with you. To be honest, you were looking forward to this moment, and he too could only think about that. He can't help but think about it every second, until your bodies are finally inches apart, under the warm duvet. Lewis can't wait any longer, sleep already overtaking him. Just your simple presence soothes him. Then, it is in a peaceful silence that your bodies finally touch each other, seeking each other's affection. You quietly close your eyes, relaxed, as he inhales your scent, already feeling himself slipping away into dreams. Best night ever, for sure.

─ GEORGE RUSSEL

The bed is all ready, the sheets are clean and the duvet freshly laundered. You burrow under the covers first, smiling softly at your boyfriend, who in turn slips under the duvet. You are neither too close nor too far, a reasonable distance but your faces close. Enough that you felt the heat coming from each other's bodies. You don't dare disturb the other person, or make the situation uncomfortable, so it's in these positions that you fall asleep. However, George's body ends up unconsciously searching for you in his sleep. His arms ended up wrapping you in a comforting embrace, his head finding a place in the crook of your neck. And a little smile appeared on his face during the night.

─ MAX VERSTAPPEN

He was the one who practically begged you to sleep together. He wanted to spend as much time with you as possible, and above all he wanted to be able to hold you in his arms as long as possible, even at night. So when you were finally free from work and could sleep with him for the first time, he almost jumped for joy. As soon as you set foot on your bed, he had already trapped you in his arms, peppering your face with kisses here and there. It's not even embarrassing, it's just pleasantly adorable and warm. As if you had always slept together since the start of your relationship. And now that your first night together has passed, there won't be another night where he sleeps alone. It's him and you, or he doesn't sleep.

─ DANIEL RICCIARDO

This man is literally always in a good mood, and never really seems stressed. Except when it comes to you, and especially your first night sleeping in the same bed. His heart is pounding, and he can't hide his nervous expression no matter how hard he tries. You can't deny the fact that you're also somewhat stressed. After all, this is one of your first intimate moments. He could tell you were nervous just like him. And that's why he immediately knew how to lighten the atmosphere, by joking about the situation. All your stress is gone as you laugh until you cry, and your boyfriend laughs out loud, savoring the sweet melody of your laughter. And so, tired from laughing too much, you fall asleep deeply, snuggled up warmly against each other.

[triplefrontierbabe]

hellooo!! i wondering if you’ve ever seen that trend on tiktok where the guy is like “bitch, what’s for dinner” and the reader would be all innocent & stuff, and at the end he would apologize and tell her to never let him speak to her that way again? hopefully that makes sense! 🫶🏻🫶🏻 (this would be through text btw lol)

Internet Trends with the Grid

summary: the guys try an internet trend on you

pairing: f! reader x Daniel Ricciardo, Oscar Piastri, Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, George Russell, Charles Leclerc

warning: language, suggestive themes, allusion to Max’s dad, you are responsible for the content you consume

a/n: I have seen this trend floating around, I did put a little twist on it.

disclaimer: while this is based off a trend, please know that anyone who ever genuinely talks to you like this, especially a romantic partner, you have no obligation to answer to them, you deserve better.

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Check out my Masterlist

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taglist: @f1updates4you @ifyouaintfirstyourelastt @bernelflo

[csainzoperator]

"let's break up" ☆

summary: you text your f1 boyfriend "let's break up" as a prank.

trigger warnings: fem pronouns, mentions of seperated parents, mentions of killing (as a joke), nicknames, idk if there are more (?)

charles, carlos, lewis, george, max

lando, oscar, alex, logan, daniel

an: omg pls i need such responses. especially logan's cos that's literally me. but hope you had fun reading this, my loves!

[valiwrites]

serendipity ✧.* daniel ricciardo

[ serendipity (n); finding luck without even looking for it ] : ̗̀➛ pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!verstappen!reader : ̗̀➛ warnings: age gap; reader is 25; daniel is 35, hate comments : ̗̀➛ smau

: ̗̀➛ summary: daniel accidentally posts a soft launch on his public account instead of his private

MASTERLIST

danielricciardo ✔︎

liked by lando, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 1.2m others

danielricciardo love you forever baby! happy birthday ❤️

view all 735k comments

user1 he did not just drop that on us and left

user2 DANIEL WHAT??

user3 yess!! a new wag 😍

lando does he know he posted that here 😭

user4 lmaoo lando know something we don't

user5 idk your girl but happy birthday to her

user6 now where did she crawl from daniel 😐

user7 y'all don't let anyone have a gf/bf man 😭😭

maxverstappen1 daniel buddy... that's not your private account

user8 she kinds looks like y/n

user9 stopp she doesss

user10 someone tell daniel what he did

yourusername ✔︎

liked by maxverstappen1, oliviagrivas, danielricciardo and 2.3m others

yourusername feeling like the it girl

view all 985k comments

user1 wait a second...

user2 i'm waiting...

user3 suspicious...

user4 the prettiest girl out there 🥰

user5 she has a boyfriend??

user6 its daniel i'm calling it

maxverstappen you're to close to him i said three meters apart

yourusername maxie what the fuck

user7 so max knows him hmmm

user8 everyone in the comments asking if its daniel and its just a random dude at the end lmaoo

user9 im calling it

user10 nah bc daniel can find better

f1wagsnews ✔︎

liked by charles_leclerc and 23k others

f1wagsnews daniel ricciardo caught with a girl in monaco

view all 12k comments

user1 celebrities don't have any privacy dude so what

user2 frr let them be

user3 i think its the girl he accidentally posted

user4 wait he posted a girl accidentally??

user3 yeah but he deleted it an hour later

user4 y'all charles liked this post

user5 i still think it's y/n

user6 me too bc they both posted something coupley 20 minutes apart

user7 why do you believe everything on the internet tho

f1wagsnews i only repost pictures that are sent to me. i can't confirm those are legit

danielricciardo ✔︎

liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda0511, georgerussel63 and 1.4m others

danielricciardo love you darling

view all 943k comments

user1 okay that's intentional now

user2 definetly

user3 omg her eyes are so prettyyy tell us who she isss

user4 i lowkey love that

user5 cuties!! he's braiding her hair 🥺

user6 guys y/n liked this

user7 i believe its her

maxverstappen1 i will knock you out

user8 yeah, no.. it's definetly y/n

user9 'darling' aww how cute

yourusername ✔︎

liked by danielricciardo, lando, sebastianvettel and 3.5m others

yourusername i guess the cat is out of the bag now

comments are disabled

[gr4cier4cie]

♡ can you come home? i need you. ♡

or: the drivers aren't only fast on the track. to be fair, you did tempt them. featuring: lewis hamilton, lando norris, max verstappen, daniel riccardio ♡

warnings: sexual innuendo (gracie's ovulating i apologize in advance)

♡

[babygirlewis]

｡･ﾟﾟ･reacting to your hickeys｡･ﾟﾟ･

warnings: suggestive

drivers: lewis hamilton, lando norris, charles leclerc, max verstappen, carlos sainz, daniel ricciardo

note: im sweating cause of the baku race rn that was a chaotic mess. i do not like checo and i am so happy for our lil oscar🫶🏼 slay

disclaimer: i do not allow my work to be copied/reposted

[sxcretricciardo]

not the end - DR3

•

The headlines came and went in the blink of an eye.

“Daniel Ricciardo dropped from F1 lineup.”

“End of an era?”

“What’s next for the Honey Badger?”

For everyone else, it was just another news cycle. For Daniel, it felt like the end of everything he had built his life around. The silence after the official statement was deafening. No more debriefs, no more grid walks, no more hearing his name on team radios. Just… quiet.

He stayed in his apartment for weeks, only leaving when someone dragged him out or when his own thoughts got too loud. He smiled for the cameras when he had to, gave vague answers in interviews, told people he was “figuring things out.” But the truth was, he didn’t know who he was without a race weekend. Without speed. Without purpose.

It was Jack, one of his old mates from Perth, who gave him the push.

“Mate,” Jack had said over the phone one day, “come out to the track this weekend. Not a race, just dirt bikes, the crew, fresh air. You need it.”

Daniel had hesitated. “I haven’t ridden my dirt bike in forever.”

“All the more reason.”

So, Saturday morning, long before the sun had burned off the morning chill, Daniel found himself loading up his bike, gear bag tossed in the back of Jack’s truck. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he figured it had to be better than wallowing in his own disappointment.

The motocross park was tucked away in the hills, about an hour outside the city. It wasn’t huge, but it had enough twists, jumps, and loose dirt to wake something in his chest that had been dormant for too long. Riders were already out on the track, kicking up clouds of dust under the pale morning sun. The air buzzed with engine growls and laughter.

That’s when he saw you.

At first, it was just the way you moved—like the track bent to your will. You weren’t riding to impress anyone, you weren’t flashy, you weren’t reckless. You were just… in it. The jumps, the turns, the throttle control—it was all instinctual. Effortless. Beautiful.

Daniel stood at the fence, helmet in hand, just watching for a few minutes, completely unaware he was staring.

“Hey, Ricciardo, you riding or just making heart eyes at someone?” Jack teased, nudging him with an elbow.

Daniel smirked, pulling his helmet on. “Maybe both.”

Later, after his first couple laps, he caught up to you at the far end of the pit area. You were checking your bike, wiping mud off your goggles when he approached, half-smiling beneath his helmet.

“You ride like you’ve got something to prove,” he said.

You looked up, curious but calm. “I don’t. I ride because it’s the only place the world shuts up.”

That made him pause. “Yeah,” he said softly, “I know that feeling.”

There was a beat of silence. Then a smirk tugged at your lips. “You keep up okay out there.”

He chuckled, arms crossed. “Keep up? I wasn’t even trying.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

You spent the rest of the day weaving around each other���racing, bantering, meeting at the water cooler between rounds. It was the first time in months that Daniel felt… alive. Not distracted. Alive. That ride turned into a habit.

Every weekend, without fail, you’d both show up—sometimes with friends, sometimes just the two of you. He’d joke about your lap times. You’d tease him about how long it took him to stop babying the throttle. And slowly, the sessions turned into late breakfasts, which turned into lingering coffee shop stops, and then evening rides through the backwoods trails.

Daniel found himself waking up excited again, looking forward to dusty afternoons and tired smiles. You didn’t ask him about F1. You didn’t treat him like Daniel Ricciardo™. You treated him like a guy who loved bikes, who had good jokes and bad days, and who was slowly stitching himself back together.

One evening, after a long ride, the sun started to dip behind the hills, casting the track in golden light. You were both sitting on the tailgate of his truck, helmets off, skin still glowing with sweat and dust. A peaceful kind of tired settled between you.

He was quiet for a while. Too quiet.

You nudged him gently with your elbow. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Daniel looked at the dirt, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Do you ever feel like… your whole identity was built on something that’s just gone?”

You didn’t answer right away. You let him have the space to keep going.

“I gave everything to racing,” he continued. “My childhood, my time, my body. Every decision I made was about being better. Going faster. And now it’s over, and I don’t know who I am outside of it. The world moved on like I didn’t even matter. I felt… worthless.”

You turned to face him, your expression soft but strong.

“You’re not worthless, Daniel. You’re just not only an F1 driver. You’re a person. A damn good one. And you’re still moving. Still chasing adrenaline. You just needed to change lanes.”

He looked at you, something breaking loose in his chest. “Yeah, well… you helped with that. More than you know.”

You offered a small smile. “You helped yourself. I just kept showing up.”

There was something in the air between you—warm, fragile, heavy.

Daniel reached out, brushing a bit of dried mud from your cheek. “Can I take you out sometime? Like, not in gear. No helmets. Real food. Table. Chairs. Maybe even candles.”

You laughed, leaning into his touch slightly. “Only if you promise to stop trying to race me on foot to the snack stand.”

He grinned. “Deal.”

-

Daniel texted you the next day.

Dan:

“So… this restaurant doesn’t allow helmets or full riding gear. Still interested?”

You:

“Only if you wear shoes without dirt on them.”

He sent back a picture of his sneakers—freshly cleaned—and a thumbs-up emoji.

You didn’t know what to expect. The two of you had spent weeks covered in mud and adrenaline, sweat-soaked and competitive, trading smirks over handlebars. But this—this was different. No helmets. No engines. Just you, him, and a quiet table between you.

He picked you up just before sunset. You were standing on the curb when you saw his car pull in—clean, for once—and he stepped out, looking… well, unfairly good. Black jeans, white t-shirt, leather jacket slung over one shoulder, curls just slightly tamed. That smile—the one that usually followed a snarky joke after a jump—was softer now. Nervous, even.

“You clean up nice,” you said, stepping forward.

He let out a breathy laugh. “Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself. Didn’t even recognize you without your helmet trying to kill me in a corner.”

You gave him a playful shove. “That’s called racing.”

“And this,” he said, opening the car door for you, “is called a date.”

The restaurant was small, tucked between buildings like a secret. Dim lighting, old wooden tables, and the warm hum of conversations wrapped in clinking glasses and soft jazz. It was intimate in a way that felt strangely unfamiliar to both of you.

You sat by the window, the city’s glow flickering behind him. Menus in hand, but neither of you looked at them much.

He leaned back, resting one arm on the back of the booth. “So. You. What do you do when you’re not making me eat your dust?”

You smirked. “Fix my bike. Clean my gear. Try to keep my elbows from bruising permanently.”

He tilted his head. “You ever think of going pro?”

You shrugged. “I almost did. But that’s a story for another time. And there’s something about riding just for myself. No sponsors, no media. Just the ride.”

Daniel grew quiet for a moment, and you saw it—that flicker in his eyes. The part of him that missed the roar of fans, the intensity of the paddock. But there was admiration there too. Maybe even a little envy.

“I think that’s what I lost along the way,” he admitted softly. “The joy. It became about survival. About keeping my seat. I forgot what it felt like to just… ride.”

You didn’t reach for his hand or tell him it would be okay. Instead, you met his gaze and said, “Well, you’re finding it again. One lap at a time.”

He smiled, but this one wasn’t for show. It was real. Deep. “Thanks to you.”

The night stretched on. Dinner turned into dessert. Then into coffee, then a long walk down quiet streets, the buzz of the city fading as you wandered into more peaceful corners.

Somewhere between laughter and silence, he reached for your hand. It wasn’t forced or overly smooth—just instinct. Like it had been waiting to happen.

“You know,” he said, glancing sideways, “I don’t remember the last time I was nervous for a first date.”

You arched a brow. “And now?”

“I’m nervous in a good way.”

You stopped, turning to him as the streetlamp cast a soft glow over his face. “Why’s that?”

“Because this feels different,” he said. “Real. I’m not thinking about what comes next. I’m just… here.”

A beat passed. Your hand tightened around his.

“Then stay here,” you said. “Just for a little while.”

And so he did.

He leaned in, slowly, carefully—waiting for any sign that you weren’t ready. But you were. His lips met yours in a kiss that was warm and grounding, nothing rushed, nothing showy. Just two people, letting the dust settle around them, and finally seeing each other clearly.

-

The next morning, before you even woke up, he sent you a message:

Dan:

“Best race I’ve ever lost was letting you beat me to dinner.”

-

Weeks passed in a blur of dusty trails and late-night conversations.

Daniel was different now—lighter, calmer, but still very much him. The cheeky grins, the teasing comments, the quiet way he always made sure your bike was fueled before his own. He had found something out there on the track again. Not F1. Not the crowd or the cameras. Just peace. And maybe something even more important—you.

You became each other’s weekend ritual. Saturday morning rides. Post-ride tacos. Sunday maintenance sessions in your garage, laughing as you both argued over who had better tire pressure control. And in between, the quieter moments—his hand finding yours while watching a movie, or the way his head rested against your shoulder after a long ride when neither of you needed to talk.

But he noticed something.

Every time you swung your leg off the bike, you winced just a little. When you thought he wasn’t looking, your fingers would massage your knee through your pants. Some days, after a longer ride, you’d leave early, saying you were “just tired.”

He didn’t push. Not right away.

But one night, after a sunset ride that left both your gear caked in dust, the two of you sat on the floor of your garage, backs against the workbench, sharing a bottle of water. Your helmet lay beside his, and the warm air was thick with sweat, grease, and unspoken truths.

“Can I ask you something?” he said suddenly, voice low.

You looked over, towel draped over your neck. “Sure.”

“Why didn’t you go pro?” He was gentle, but direct. “You’re easily one of the best riders I’ve ever seen. It’s not just talent—it’s instinct. You were born for it.”

You held the water bottle between your hands, staring at the label for a long time. Then, quietly:

“Because I’m broken.”

Daniel blinked. “What?”

You sighed, leaning your head back against the wall. “My knee. Old injury from when I was seventeen. I tore it bad on a landing—ACL, MCL, cartilage… you name it. They said I’d never ride again. I proved them wrong, but the damage was permanent. I can manage it with training and rest, but it’s getting worse.”

He was silent, watching you, listening.

“There’s a surgery,” you continued. “Experimental, expensive, painful. And it has a 70% failure rate. If it fails… that’s it. No more bike. No more trails. Just a lifetime of rehab and maybe a limp.”

Daniel’s brows furrowed, eyes narrowing slightly—not with judgment, but with the weight of someone who gets it.

“I’d rather ride in pain than risk never riding again,” you said, voice cracking just slightly. “This—riding—is who I am. It’s the one place where I feel free. Where my body doesn’t feel like a cage. I don’t want to lose that.”

He shifted closer, gently taking your hand. You hadn’t even realized you were gripping your knee.

“I get it,” he murmured. “More than you know.”

You looked at him. “You do?”

“I spent years racing through pain. Hiding it. Ignoring the noise. Because the idea of stopping was worse than the pain itself. And when I finally did stop… it wasn’t on my terms. It nearly broke me.”

You let that sink in—this man who’d been at the top of the world, now sitting next to you on a garage floor, speaking with the same fear you carried every day.

He looked at you, his thumb tracing slow circles on your knuckles. “But I also know that you don’t have to carry that fear alone. Not anymore.”

Your throat tightened. “You really mean that?”

He nodded. “You’ve been showing up for me every day since we met. Let me show up for you now. We’ll figure it out—whatever you choose. Surgery or no surgery. Pain or not. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears welled in your eyes, unspoken for too long, now spilling in quiet silence. You leaned into him, forehead against his shoulder, and he wrapped you in his arms like he’d been waiting to do it forever.

In that moment, the fear didn’t vanish. But it softened. Because for the first time in a long time, you weren’t facing it alone.

Later that night, he kissed your knee, right over the brace you wore under your sweatpants, and whispered, “Whatever happens, you’re still a badass to me.”

-

part two here

[norristrii]

OH, SORRY! STUPID INCIDENT — texting.

You send picture of you in your new lingerie to them instead your bsf.

featuring. Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Ricciardo, Oscar Piastri, George Russell, Lewis Hamilton

warnings. Typos, swearing, suggestive, bsf/n stands for best friend’s name

Lando, Max, Charles

Carlos, Daniel, Oscar

George, Lewis

[f1luvrr]

texts au- send me a selfie

summary: you ask your boyfriend to send a selfie

includes: lando, carlos, daniel, max, lewis, oscar, george and charles

[dannyriccsystem]

i swear im in love w your posts and your account 😭 the way you write the drivers feels rly accurate, i had an idea for an au after i saw that video w the papaya boys looking down at the camera w their helmets on so maybe something about reader telling the drivers to 'sleep' w them only wearing their helmets 🙂‍↕️hehe no pressure 🧡

THE HELMET STAYS ON.

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

Summary: Begging the drivers to nail you with their helmet on. And they do.

Warnings: Pure smut, Y/N usage, P in V, foreplay, reader has a tongue piercing in one of them, hair pulling, blowjob, the whole nine yards. Basically really filthy. Also not proofread because it was embarrassing enough just writing this.

Featuring: MV1, DR3, LN4, CL16, CS55, OP81

This video. Oh my days. I have nothing appropriate to say.

One more before I sleep. I’m kind of scared to post this, this is my first super out there post.

(Do feel free to request risqué stuff idm!)

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

“Let me get this straight,” Your boyfriend stood in front of you as you sat, prettily perched on the edge of the bed with an innocent smile, despite what you just asked. “You,” He pointed to you. “Want me,” and then to himself. “To fuck you. With the helmet on.” He raised both of his brows.

You looked off to the side, and then back at him, nodding. “Sounds about right, yeah.” You confirmed. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but with a sigh… He reluctantly gave in. Anything for his beloved girlfriend, I guess.

���M-ahhh-x,” You groaned out his name, nails desperately clawing at his bare back for some sort of leverage. Your legs were quivering as he slowly thrusted into you, his hips moving in such a hypnotic way. Even off the track, his pace was consistent, apparently.

All of his skin was exposed, every last inch, except for his face. It was covered by his iconic helmet design, the visor pulled down to conceal the expression in his eyes. You were certain they were darkened with lust, but had no proof of it.

His hands gripped your waist, hoisting you up to get an even deeper angle. Your legs wrapped around him weakly, trying to pull him in closer. At this point, you could barely move them.

He brought his helmeted face down closer to your ear, the sound of his voice deliciously muffled by the soft casing surrounding his head, “You asked for this, lieverd.” You whined out at his typical pet name, which sounded so dirty now. You were unsure if you’d ever be able to see your boyfriend in an innocent light ever again.

Your hands grabbed both sides of his helmet, mouth drawn open in an ‘O’ as you weakly moaned for him. The sweet sounds motivated him further, allowing him to draw out his final thrusts. He pulled out, hands stroking his length as you pressed soft kisses to the surface of his helmet.

He came on your stomach. With one hand, Max lifted the visor while the other gentle traced a heart onto your cum-coated belly.

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

“Danny?” You came out of his bedroom one day, finding him relaxed on the couch. He leaned his head over to look at you, motioning for you to continue. In your hands was the cause of confusion— His old racing helmet. The last one he ever wore, to be exact.

It was a black helmet with a sparkly flame that shined different colors depending on the lighting. You remembered him wearing it in Singapore, the last race he ever competed in. It probably held a lot of special memories. “Do you use your old helmets for anything? I see you have a few in our room.”

“Hmm, nah. Mostly just decoration.” He shrugs and turns to sit with one leg folded underneath him, the other hanging over the edge of the couch. His elbows were propped on the back as he stared at you. “Why?” He smirked almost like he could see the gears turning.

“Wanna have sex with one on?” The answer was always yes.

It wasn’t quite what you were expecting, in the best way possible. Nothing could have prepared you for the animal that your boyfriend would become upon exploding this new area of your sex lives.

He had one of your legs pushed in the air, resting over his shoulder, which allowed him more space to thrust experimentally. The other laid on the side of his thigh, your hips held up by his free hand to get a better angle. You propped yourself up on your elbows, head slightly angled down while you stared through damp lashes.

“Fuck, Danny…” You whined, your hips twitching with a little gasp. He groaned, his head falling forward until the helmet was carefully pressed against your forehead. His grip on your raised thigh was tight, practically digging into your skin to keep himself from going feral.

“Feel that?” He muttered, his voice enveloped in the cushy walls of his helmet. The hand that held you up at the waist circled around, palm pressing down on your stomach to emphasize the slight bulge. He cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering and his dick twitching. “Shit.”

He leg your leg fall against the mattress as he carefully slipped out. One hand massaged your sore folds, bringing you to your peak just as he reached his. You both climaxed together, your thighs painted with his arousal.

He carefully lifted the helmet, still panting as he looked down at the mess he made. “Satisfied?” He asked, voice hoarse. You grinned, eyes droopy.

“Very.”

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

There was something special about Lando in his signature green helmet. The helmet itself was bland, but it was his staple. When he wore it, it was unimaginably attractive to you.

You tried to ignore it, but during one of his week long breaks, you decided to address the issue upfront. It was a hard topic to approach, so you figured now was a good time to be as blunt as possible.

“I want to fuck you while you wear your helmet.” Literally. As blunt as possible.

He looked taken aback, and rightfully so. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why…” He asked next. It was hard to discern what sort of face that was supposed to be. Confusion? Disgust? Arousal? All three at once?

“Because it’s hot.”

He fell silent, and then pulled you into his room where the helmet in question sat, like it was ready for this moment.

“Not so confident now, are you?” His husky voice murmured in your ear. You were currently bent over with your hands against his bedroom door to support yourself, your ass stuck out against him. All while your legs trembled. If one of his hands wasn’t supporting you under your stomach, you’d have collapsed by now.

Strong hands gripped your hair, tugging your head backwards to get a good look at your fucked out expression, and your stretched neck that was littered with deep purple marks. All you could do was softly cry out in pleasure as a reply to his question, which earned a dark chuckle from your boyfriend.

“Regretting your choice yet?” You shook your head with teary eyes. You couldn’t see his face, cloaked beneath the secrecy of a bright green racing helmet, but you knew for a fact he was smirking. Every thrust was carried out confidently, sending a resounding smack through the room. The sounds were sticky from the buildup of arousal.

“Laan,” You drawled out his name, eyes twitching as you struggled to keep them open. You could feel another orgasm approaching— Just one of many for the night. “P-Please—”

“Please what?” Another tug of the hair, making you whimper. “Use your words, pretty.”

“Let me cum,” You whined, your voice trembling. He continued silently for another thrust or two before the hand on your stomach traveled down to massage your clit, sending you over the edge. You squealed out, lurching forward to rest against the door.

He pulled his throbbing length out, releasing onto your back. With a heavy, satisfied sigh, Lando scooped you up and gently laid you on his mattress, littering your aching body with kisses upon the removal of his helmet.

“You did so good for me.”

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

Charles and you had been together for a while, and it was safe to say you knew your way around each other’s bodies. However, neither of you quite knew the other’s mind.

It was hard to pinpoint the specific kinks and such. If you were both paying attention you could figure out the little things you liked— For example, Charles liked kitten licks on the tip, and he loved you in red lingerie. And you liked sensual sex with romance and eye contact.

However, there was something you had never been able to admit until now. “Can you keep the helmet on for tonight?” He blinked at your question, already half naked and hovering over you, who was… Entirely naked.

“Keep the helmet on?”

“Yeah. Just to try it out.”

It didn’t take much convincing.

The entire experience changed when the helmet came on. Maybe you were expecting him to take a dominant stance, but it seemed as soon as the mask came on he was a whining and stuttering mess.

Charles was propped up on his elbows as you straddled his hips, grinding yourself further onto his impaled cock. He couldn’t even form a sentence, just desperately grip your hips and occasionally involuntarily thrust up into your tight heat. He was thankful for the helmet, actually. That way you couldn’t see his pathetic expression.

“Feels good,” You praised, your voice like honey. He squeezed the fat of your hips tighter, both of his index fingers anxiously tapping against your skin. He wasn’t normally so… Submissive like this.

You reached out, lifting the visor of his helmet to unveil his eyes. Just his eyes, that’s all you could see, but they told you exactly what you needed to know. With furrowed brows and a watery gaze, he made direct eye contact with you.

His hands traveled to find yours, squeezing them tight while you rode him. He could barely ground himself, but your steady presence certainly helped. “Y/N-” He finally managed to splutter out, his legs twitching and his hips jerking.

“Shh, you’re okay,” You whispered, moving your hips faster. “You got it, you’re doing great.” At your praise, he seemed to lose it, spilling deep inside you.

His body collapsed against the mattress, leaving you to carefully lift his helmet and brush his damp hair away from his eyes.

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

You came home from a stressful day to your boyfriend standing in the dining room, examining his racing helmet under the light. “What are you doing?” You questioned softly as you set your things down on the table.

Her flinched, but relaxed as soon as he realized it was just you, and there was no need to be worried. “Just thinking.” You raised your brow as if asking ‘about?’ He showed you the helmet, and you just shrugged with a lack of understanding. “I want to fuck you with it on.”

You blinked at his forwardness, your gaze shifting from the helmet, and then to him. “If you’re comfortable with it, I don’t mind.”

Sex with Carlos was typically slow and sensual, just what you needed after a long day.

Not this time.

He had you folded in ways you didn’t even know were possible. Your knees were pressed to your chest, hands gripping the sheets as he fucked into you in your folded position. He hovered over you, one hand on the headboard and the other on the curve of your ass.

He grunted, but most of the noise was coming from you. “C-… Carlos!” You yelped, surprised by the change in tone. Your eyes twitched, threatening to roll back into your skull. You tried to swallow your moans, but it was impossible to keep silent.

He suddenly grabbed both of your hands, bringing them up to hold your own legs back. He busied his digits with your hole. Two fingers circled your needy clit, making your legs ache and shake. The other two slid right in with his cock, plunging in and out in a rhythmic manner.

“Feel good?” He questioned in that thick accent, ensuring your comfort over all. You couldn’t form a coherent response, leaving you to just nod a silent yes.

It seemed like ages he toyed with your poor hole, but finally he pulled free and let himself release onto your stomach. You let your legs fall to the mattress, twitching occasionally. Both of you panted as he removed the helmet, sweat dripping from his forehead. His hair was beautifully messy.

“That was…” He trailed off.

“Hot,” You finished for him.

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

You had been giggling to yourself all day as you stared at your phone. It was beginning to make Oscar anxious as he automatically assumed the worst. With sudden steeled courage, he decided to confront you.

“What have you been looking at? You haven’t stopped laughing at your phone.” His tone was calm, but inside he was slightly panicked. That is, until you turned the phone around to show him an edit. Of himself.

He had seen a few of them. Ever since him and Lando filmed that video showing off their helmets, the fans had been going crazy. “What about it?” He tilted his head, not unlike the way he did in said video. Your ovaries basically exploded.

“Do you have your helmet?” He nodded. “Put it on.”

Well, you didn’t have to tell him twice.

This… Wasn’t exactly what Oscar had been expecting. He knew you had something filthy in mind, but to suck him off while he was wearing nothing but his helmet was a little absurd, even for you.

Thankfully, he accepted the freak in you.

Your tongue darted out to give his tip a little lick, the cold metal of your tongue piercing making him twitch. He shuddered, a deep groan leaving his lips. Without even thinking, his hands grabbed the back of your head. However, he relaxed before making any sharp movements, and let it rest there for now.

You experimented further, plump lips encasing his whole tip, cheeks hollowing experimentally. He groaned, head tilted back momentarily. You looked at him through your lashes, giggling around his length when he peered back down, the movement unbearably attractive in your eyes.

You placed your hands on his thighs to balance yourself, and slowly took more of him in. He tried to keep quiet, but he could only bite back so many groans before they started to flood out. As your pace increased, his grip on the back of your head did, too.

Eventually, you weren’t even moving anymore. He was just full on face fucking you to get himself off, and you didn’t care. You let your mouth be used by your boyfriend, whose hips were jerking in and out in a spontaneous rhythm.

He finally came to a stop, his length twitching as he pulled it out. Half of his seed was shot onto your face, while the rest was expertly aimed for your mouth.

He was breathing heavily as he lifted the helmet, peering down at you with a heaving chest. “Holy shit.”

That was by far the most emotion anyone had ever gotten out of him.

[no-144444]

the grid: can you fight?

꩜ featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, George Russell, Kimi Antonelli, Alex Albon, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Max Verstappen, Charles LeClerc, Lewis Hamilton, Ollie Bearman, Jack Doohan, Franco Colapinto, & Paul Aron

꩜ banner creds: bronzewasp

Oscar Piastri: nonchalant 

McLaren media days were usually long and boring, and today was no different. Thankfully, they were on the last video, reading thirst tweets? Whatever that meant. Oscar had an ipad open in front of him, and he scrolled past a tweet that read ‘face card is insane’, not really understanding what the meant, but thanking the poster anyway. The next tweet was a picture of you, and a caption, ‘can you fight @.oscarpiastri ?’. Beside the photo of you, was a particularly terrible photo of himself. He stopped, lingering on your photo. It was a photo he knew well, the photo he keeps in his wallet. You, looking like a fucking goddess in a photobooth. Him, looking like a twat. He laughed (probably too hard), and Lando joined in. 

“So this one is a photo of my fiancé, and says ‘can you fight?’,” he explained. “I’d like to think I could hold my own, especially for Y/n,” he chuckled, Lando dying of laughter beside him. “But I probably couldn’t take on all of her fans.” 

“Mate,” Lando wheezed. “You look possessed!”

“I wasn’t, I was just arguing,” he chuckled. Lando’s laughter was becoming offensive now. “I don’t look that bad!”

“Sure mate, sure,” he giggled, wiping his tears away. 

Lando Norris: Crazy town! 

He was busy scrolling on instagram, post after post of you coming up on his feed. He was not complaining. You looked so hot in every single edit, every picture, everyone agreed too. He felt his ego grow. He’d bagged you. He’d convinced you to go out with him. Holy shit. 

One caption caught his eyes though. ‘@.landonorris, can you fight?’. He frowned. Obviously. Of course he could fight. Of course he would fight. You were his girlfriend. 

He did what he did best, and commented. Probably wasn’t the best idea since Zak called him maybe 10 minutes later. 

Oops!

What was the comment, you may ask?

landonorris I can fight and fuck, why do you think she stays with me?

George Russell: actually couldn't care less 

“Can you fight George Russell?” he repeated, reading the caption of the edit. The Mercedes media team giggled behind the camera as Kimi clapped a hand on his shoulder, laughing a little too hard. “I’d hope so, considering this many people want to steal my girlfriend from me,” he chuckled. “Blimey!” he stared at the photo in front of him. It was one of his favourites, one that he’d taken. One where you’d kissed him after he took it, so happy with his work. “I know she’s beautiful, but she is my girlfriend, and the internet should remember that.” 

“Maybe you need to post her more,” Kimi shrugged. 

George rolled his eyes. “Are we really getting to the stage where Kimi is giving me social media advice? What’s he going to do next, take over my instagram for a day?”

“That’s a good idea,” he heard the social media manager mumble. He face-palmed. 

“Anyway, back to the problem at hand,” he cleared his throat. “Yes, I can fight.” 

“No you can’t!” Lando cackled from nearby. 

George just stared at the camera as everyone else laughed.

Kimi Antonelli: logical 

“Can I fight?” he read out the caption of a fan edit of you. He giggled nervously. “Why would I need to? We’re already together.” 

“It’s just something people say online,” George chuckled. “People ask me the same all the time.”

“Well, this person doesn’t even know her, right? How would they think she’d pick them over me?” 

George was laughing now, amused by how literally Kimi was taking this. “Mate, it’s a joke.”

“Well, they posted it!” Kimi argued back. “Clearly they meant something!”

George actually couldn’t respond. He was laughing too much.  “My gosh,” he tutted, scrolling past the post. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Alex Albon: secure 

“‘Can I fight?’, yes, and I will,” his voice was sharp and Carlos giggled beside him. “Y/n is my girlfriend. She wouldn’t choose you anyway, but if we must fight, yes, I would win. Next!” he sassed as he scrolled to the next post. It was another one of you and him, ‘how did he do it?’. He rolled his eyes. “My irresistible charm and handsome face,” he deadpanned to the camera and Carlos was busy dying of laughter beside him. “Next,” he scrolled again, and it was a picture of you and Alex after he proposed to you, ‘if he ever proposed to me in b-board shorts (!!!) and a linen shirt, he’s getting a no’, and he stared at the camera. “Are you fucking joking? What is wrong with that outfit?!” he demanded, as the entire media team doubled over with laughter, Carlos almost falling out of his chair. “People online are too nit-picky these days,” he shook his head.

Carlos Sainz: pisses him off lmao

He rolled his eyes as yet another thirst edit of you with an insanely graphic caption appeared on his tiktok. “Fuck’s sake,” he cursed. Your ears perked up and you started to rub his back again. 

“Alright?” you asked, eyes still on your computer, glued to whatever film you were both meant to be watching, but he’d turned over the look at his phone instead. You hadn’t seemed to mind. 

“Why do all of your fans and mine want to fight me?” he groaned, stretching his arms above his head as he turned around, burying his face in your neck. “Fucking stupid.” 

You giggled. “Not my fault I’m sexy.” 

“All your fault you’re sexy,” he said, muffled by your hoodie. His hand ventured up your hoodie, not uncommon, so you didn’t say anything. “We should release a sex tape or something-”

“Are you fucking crazy?!” you squealed, shoving his hand out from under your top. “Do you want my career to be over?!” 

He shrugged. “People could see just how much you want me,” he moved closer somehow, as you stared back at him, dumbfounded, jaw dropped. He chuckled. “That’s usually how you look when you-”

“Shut up Carlos!

Daniel Riccardo: smug bastard! 

“‘Can you fight?’, yes, but I don’t need to,” he laughed, his smile bright and smug. The photo in front of him was one of you at an Enchanté event, taking pictures with fans. You looked radiant. If only the public knew he took you home and fucked you on the counter the second you tow got in the door. 

“You don’t need to?” Max spurred him on. 

“Nope,” he proudly shook his head. “I’ve got some photos on my phone-”

“Enough!” their media manager shouted, cutting him off. “Stop talking!”

Both of them burst into laughter, doubling over. When they finally calmed down, Daniel winked at the camera. “Don’t worry, I’d never show them.”

Liam Lawson: out of his league

“Yes, I can fight,” he rolled his eyes, scrolling past it, only to be met with another one. You in various posts he’d made, photos he’d taken, days he remembered. He adored you, it was clear to anyone. You were the majority of his insta feed. “I know she’s gorgeous-”

“And out of your league,” Yuki added, smirking. 

Liam’s jaw dropped. “Fuck off!” he laughed. “She is not-! Ok, maybe yeah she is, but come on man,” he chuckled. “Give me a break!” 

“Mate, I’m just being truthful,” he shrugged. “She’s totally out of your league.”

Liam scoffed. “I know! But we don’t have to point it out!”

“I mean, we can though,” Yuki laughed. “We could also mention the fact that she asked you out, and not the other way around.”

“Well I was hardly going to ask her out, she’s out of my league!”

Max Verstappen: annoying

“Why do your fans want to fight me?”he scoffed, throwing his phone down on the bed, between you two. He turned to look at you, and you continued reading. He rolled his eyes and pulled the book out of your hands, much to your dismay. He bookmarked it and placed it on his bedside table, then turned back to you. You were scowling at him. 

“What?” you demanded. 

“Why do your fans want to fight me?” he asked again, his hands reaching for you. 

“I don’t fucking know,” you scoffed. “Give me back my book Max.”

“Come here,” he chuckled, pulling you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs intertwining with his. He pressed his lips to yours, gently, and you melted into him. He loved this, the gentle and slow nights he got with you. Enjoying the silence you gave each other. He pulled back, a smug smile on his lips. “Your fans couldn’t do that.”

You rolled your eyes and reached behind his head, grabbing your book back. “I’d let anyone do that if it meant they wouldn’t steal my book,” you shot back, turning the other way from him. He chuckled and squeezed your ass. 

“Brat,” he smirked. 

You flipped him off in return, but he knew you were smiling. 

Charles LeClerc: so pathetic it’s insane

“I will not fight!” he announced, startling Lewis beside him. They were just meant to be replying to thirst tweets, but he’d fallen down a rabbit hole. He turned his head up to the camera, completely serious. “She chose me! She doesn’t want any of you!”

Lewis started laughing beside him, the hilarity of it all getting to him. 

“She’s my wife! Look!” he held up his ring finger with the golden wedding band you’d placed just mere months ago. He hadn’t taken it off yet. “She loves me!” 

“I think they get it mate,” Lewis chuckled. 

“They better,” he scoffed. “Right, onto the next one!”

Lewis Hamilton: lowkey freaky (actually just sassy!)

“Lewis, can you fight?!” one of the fans cheered from the side of the carpet. He rolled his eyes as you laughed, waving at the fan before starting to walk over there. Not on his watch. He pulled you back by his hand on your wrist and smirked. The crowd roared at the interaction between the two of you. 

“You’re not going over there,” he murmured. 

“I have to see what he’s offering,” you teased, your voice low so as to not be picked up by the hundreds of cameras pointed at the two of you. “Maybe it’s better-”

“Nothing is better than us,” his grip on your waist tightened. “Need me to remind you?”

“You’re talking a lot of game, old man,” you chuckled, kissing his cheek. “Don’t forget your abilities now.” 

He scoffed in your face, his jaw dropping. “Bitch,” he sassed, making you laugh. “Don’t piss me off.”

You acquiesced, kissing his lips before taking his hand and leading him further up the carpet. 

Ollie Bearman: used to it 

“Can you fi-” he cut himself off, scrolling on. “We’re not doing that.” 

“It’s a genuine question Ollie,” Kimi nudged him. Their first interview together since they moved to F1 was meant to be about tweets on Bearelli, but it had quickly sent them down a rabbit-hole of their own girlfriends. 

“Shut up mate,” he scoffed, scrolling again and only finding more and more questions on whether or not he could keep you. Kimi just kept laughing. “You won’t be laughing in a minute when these are about you.” 

Jack Doohan: embarrassed 

Jack had learnt that Pierre was the kind of guy to keep a joke going, but he never thought it’d get this far. They had been looking at thirst tweets, and one of you had come up, asking if Jack could fight, but he’d gone bright red the second your name was mentioned. Pierre cackled beside him as he held his head in his hands, wishing for the world to swallow him up. Come race day, Pierre had hidden print-outs of the tweet all over the Alpine garage. 

“J, why is this on your wall?” you questioned as you held up one of the print-outs. 

He went bright red. Again. 

Franco Colapinto: (shockingly) normal

“So Franco, since you and your girlfriend Y/n have gone public with your relationship, many people on the internet have one question, can you fight?” the host chuckled. 

“Can I fight? Yes, yes I can fight. I don’t need to though, my girlfriend loves me,” he laughed, looking to you. You were so embarrassed, I mean, head-in-hands embarrassed. He continued on, never stopping to think about what he was saying. “No, but I do understand, my Y/n is very beautiful, and I am very lucky. I love her very much. Anyway, most people couldn’t handle her, if you get what I mean.” 

“Well said,” the host laughed, trying to continue with some sort of professionalism. “Got some brownie points there.” 

“Hopefully,” Franco winked at you, as you stood behind the camera, shocked by his statement.

Paul Aron: sassy queen! 

“‘Can I fight’? Have you seen me?” he flexed his arm up, showing off his (huge) arms, as you laughed beside him. He shook his head. “Silly, silly people,” he tutted. “It is a nice photo though, you look very beautiful,” he turned to you. 

“Thanks baby,” you murmured back, scrolling on and only seeing more calls for Paul to step aside and let others in. 

He stared the camera down as you were distracted and mouthed ‘she’s mine’ to the many viewers.

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

mclaren masterlist (OP81 &LN4)

ferrari masterlist (CL16, LH44 & AL65 )

williams & mercedes masterlist (GR63, KA12, CS55 LS2 &AA23)

redbull & vcarb masterlist (MV1, DR3 & LL40)

alpine masterlist (JD7, PA17, FC43)

[mirohlayo]

F1 DRIVERS AND THEIR

FAVORITE TYPE OF HUGS

( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )

warning : none, fluff is fluffing

─ OSCAR PIASTRI

Comforting hug. Ohh, if there's one thing he loves, and that you especially love too, it's the way he hugs you. There's nothing sweeter than feeling his arms wrap around you, your bodies warming each other, and simply letting yourself go into each other's hold. Oscar's hugs are special, unique and intimate. It's a cloud of comfort and happiness, of pure softness, as his lips caress your hair.

─ LANDO NORRIS

Waist hug. It will always be his favorite type of hug. He always starts the day by wrapping his arms around your waist, placing his large hands on either side so you can't escape from his arms. You can only giggle quietly, returning his embrace by resting your head on his muscular chest. You just feel safe, maybe a little too loved by the curly haired guy. And to end his day well, he will start the same routine again, his arms wrapping naturally and perfectly around your waist, as if ultimately his arms were made just for that.

─ CHARLES LECLERC

Passionate hug. His hugs mean everything. It's his way of expressing how much he loves you with all his heart, and how much he can never imagine his life without you. He particularly likes to hold you tightly, passionately in his arms, after a nice race from him. After a podium, a pole position, or simply when he notices that you look at him with that magnificent proud look. There is nothing in the world that makes him want to be happy more, other than hugging you tenderly and passionately. A little tighter every second.

─ CARLOS SAINZ

Back hug. You would always jumped a little as you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, and a muscular body gently press against your back. But you eventually learned that this is how Carlos likes to cuddle, and you have no problem with it. Well, yes, your only problem is that you always ask for more. He loves, he adores seeing you relax quietly in his embrace, while he makes sure to hug you tightly so that you can't escape. But could you honestly escape? Oh, you already know the answer.

─ LEWIS HAMILTON

Bear hug. It's perhaps the simplest of hugs, but undoubtedly the best and truest. There's no better feeling than feeling close to each other. Lewis can't help but almost attack you with hugs when he sees you. You look just... so cozy and beautiful, he can't resist. But your body always willingly accepts his big hugs, and even more his little caresses that he gives you on the back, or even on the tip of your shoulder. The closer he is to you, the happier he is.

─ GEORGE RUSSEL

Long hug. What's more comforting than a long hug from your boyfriend. He likes to take you by surprise, and hug you for no good reason. He feels like he needs it to function properly. However, he will always prefer long hugs. The ones he gives you when you feel bad, when he wants to share time with you, when he simply wants to show you all his love. So staying longer in each other's arms is like a quiet promise. A promise to love each other no matter what, forever. And it's just... sweet.

─ MAX VERSTAPPEN

Eye contact hug. There's a good reason this is his favorite type of hug. Admiring your face, and seeing you blush because you can't make eye contact, that's what makes him lose all his senses. Just feeling you warm and safe in his arms makes him absolutely happy, but being able to admire your beauty, that of your eyes and seeing you all flustered makes him so weak. It's like a teasing game for him, and it's not for nothing that it's his favorite game. Obviously he'll never stop, except when it's you who reverses the roles and makes him... all shy and flustered.

─ DANIEL RICCIARDO

Neck hug. Daniel probably has a wider neck than yours, but that doesn't stop you from continuing to hug him by wrapping your arms around his neck. And that doesn't stop him from kissing you all over your face, delicately placing his hands on your forearms. He just likes to feel loved, and feeling your arms around his neck is like the best feeling in the world. Maybe this hug is extremely intimate, flirty and sexy, but he asks for nothing less. It represents you and it represents him perfectly, so why want to change perfection.

[23victoria]

Jealousy, Jealousy

f1 grid x fem!reader

wc: 2.1k

warnings: just the guys being jealous, a lil uncomfortable situations ig,

authors note: sorry i took so long with this anon 🥹🤍! also sorry if this is bad for some reason i was struggling 😓 also ignore any typos any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!! if you wanna join my taglist, click HERE!

f1 masterlist

Lewis

You were at a quaint bookstore in London, browsing through the latest bestsellers. Lewis was busy with a media event, so you decided to take some time to yourself. While searching the shelves, a charming young man approached you, striking up a conversation about the book you were holding.

"So, are you a Ana Huang fan?" he asked, flashing a friendly smile.

You smiled back, appreciating the casual conversation. "Yes, I love her Twisted series! Currently reading book 2."

"That's one of the best books!" he said, inching closer. "I can definitely recommend some more books similar to hers! Maybe if I could get-"

Unbeknownst to you, Lewis had wrapped up his event early and decided to surprise you. He walked into the bookstore just as you were chatting with the stranger. He immediately noticed the man's enthusiastic gestures and your engaged expression. His protective instincts kicked in.

He approached with a confident stride, sliding an arm around your waist. "Hey, babe. Who's your friend?" Lewis's tone was polite, but his eyes were intense.

"Oh, Lewis! This is Tom, we were just talking about The Twisted Series!" you said, trying to ease the tension.

Tom extended his hand, but Lewis's grip on your waist tightened slightly. "Nice to meet you, Tom. I'm Lewis."

Tom picked up on the vibe and quickly made his exit. "Nice to meet you too. I'll let you two enjoy your day."

As Tom walked away, you turned to Lewis, raising an eyebrow. "Is that a hint of jealousy I detect?"

Lewis chuckled, relaxing his hold. "Maybe a little. Can you blame me? He was cleary interested."

You kissed his cheek, reassured by his protectiveness. "You’re cute when you get like this, you know you're the only one for me."

Max 

You were at a trendy bar in Monaco with some friends, celebrating your  movie premiere. Max was racing that weekend, so you hadn't expected to see him. While chatting at the bar, a guy approached you, complimenting your dress.

"That dress looks amazing on you," he said smoothly.

"Thanks," you replied, smiling politely.

Max, who had finished his practice session early, decided to surprise you. He walked into the bar and immediately spotted you talking to the stranger. His mood darkened as he saw the guy leaning in closer to you.

Max wasted no time, walking straight over and placing a possessive hand on your lower back. "Hey, schatje. Who's this?"

You turned, surprised and delighted to see him. "Max! This is Jason. He just complimented me on my dress."

Jason, sensing the tension, took a step back. "Nice to meet you, Max. You look beautiful Y/N, nice talking to you."

Max nodded curtly, watching Jason leave before turning his attention back to you. "What was that about?"

"Just a compliment," you said, smiling. "Why are you jealous?"

Max pulled you into a deep kiss, making sure everyone in the bar knew you were his. "No."

You laughed, hugging him tightly. "Yes you are, but it’s okay, I like when you get jealous. Besides you're the only one I want, Maxie."

Charles 

You were at the university library, studying for an upcoming exam. Charles was away for a race, so you decided to focus on your studies. A fellow classmate approached you, asking if he could join you at your table.

"Sure," you said, moving your books to make space.

The two of you started discussing your coursework, but the conversation soon shifted to more personal topics. Just as the guy was about to ask you out for coffee, Charles walked in. He had flown back earlier than expected to surprise you.

He saw you laughing with the guy and felt a pang of jealousy. Charles walked over, his presence commanding immediate attention. "Hey, love. Mind if I join you?"

You looked up, surprised and thrilled. "Charles! Of course, sit down. This is Peter, we were just studying."

Peter quickly excused himself, sensing the unspoken tension. "I'll see you around, Y/N."

As Peter left, Charles took his seat beside you, his arm draped protectively over your shoulders. "Who was that?"

"Just a classmate," you said, amused by his reaction. "Jealous much?"

Charles sighed, pulling you closer. "Maybe. But I have every right to be, I mean look at you, you're gorgeous. Any person with common sense would want you."

You kissed his cheek, whispering, "You're adorable, Char! You never have to worry about that. Trust me, you're the only one I want."

Oscar 

You were at a cozy café in Melbourne, waiting for your boyfriend. He had a busy schedule, but you managed to find time for a quick coffee date. While waiting, a guy at the next table struck up a conversation.

"Do you come here often?" he asked, clearly interested.

"Not really, just waiting for someone," you replied, hoping he would take the hint. 

He leaned in a bit closer, a confident smile on his face. "Well, maybe while you wait, we could get to know each other better."

Oscar walked in at that moment, his eyes narrowing as he saw the guy leaning in closer to you as he spoke. He walked over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Hey, baby. Ready to go?"

The guy quickly backed off, realizing he was intruding. "Oh, I'll leave you two to it," he said, standing up and walking away.

Oscar watched him go before turning to you. "Who was that?"

"I don’t know, just some random guy," you said, smiling up at him. "You feeling okay? You look a little red?"

Oscar shakes his head, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Looking at him you say, “You sure it’s not because you got a little jealous?”

Oscar chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Maybe a little. I just can't stand the thought of anyone else getting your attention."

You hugged him tightly, giving him a short kiss. "You just have to get used to having a very attractive girlfriend baby."

“I guess I do.” he says cheekily wrapping his arm around your waist as you guys walk out. 

Carlos 

You were in the pit lane, watching the preparations for the upcoming race. Carlos was busy with the team, so you decided to explore the area. A fellow fan, noticing your VIP pass, struck up a conversation.

"Are you here for the race?" he asked, clearly impressed by your pass.

"Yes, I'm here with my boyfriend," you replied, trying to be polite but distant.

"That's great," he said, undeterred by the mention of your boyfriend. "Is this your first time attending, or are you a regular?"

"Regular." you responded, hoping the conversation would end soon.

"Oh, so your boyfriend's rich, huh?" he remarked with a smirk.

"Uh, sure…yeah," you replied, taken aback and uncomfortable with his comment.

Carlos, having finished his briefing, spotted you talking to the guy. His protective instincts flared up as he saw him getting a bit too friendly.

He walked over, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey, cariño. Everything okay?"

The guy quickly stepped back, realizing who Carlos was. "Oh, hey, big fan. Just talking about the race."

Carlos nodded curtly, his grip on your waist firm. "Enjoy the race."

As the fan walked away, you turned to Carlos, smiling. "Thanks for the save."

"No problem," he replied, his expression softening.

"You know, I love how protective you are," you said, leaning into him. "And maybe when you get jealous just a little. It's cute."

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Lets go get some food, cariño."

Lando 

You were at a gaming convention, enjoying the various booths and activities. Lando was busy with a panel discussion, so you decided to explore. A fellow gamer struck up a conversation, discussing the latest games.

"Have you tried the new VR game?" he asked, clearly excited.

"Not yet, but it looks amazing," you replied, sharing his enthusiasm.

"Yeah, it's fantastic," he said, his eyes lighting up. "I wouldn't mind showing a beautiful girl like you how to use it sometime. It'd be fun."

Lando, having finished his panel, spotted you chatting with the gamer. Jealousy panned over him as he saw the guy flirting with you. 

He walked over, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey baby! What are we talking about?"

The gamer quickly felt the energy shift. "Just talking about the new VR game."

Lando nodded, his grip on your waist firm. "Cool."

As the gamer walked away, you turned to Lando, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

Lando sighed, pulling you closer. "What?! It’s not my fault he was interested in my girlfriend."

You smiled, kissing his cheek. "Key word in that sentence is “my girlfriend”."

Sebastian 

You were attending a charity event, mingling with various guests. Sebastian was busy with the organizers, so you decided to socialize. A charming gentleman approached you, engaging you in a lively conversation about the event.

"It's great to see so many people supporting this cause," he said, smiling.

"Absolutely," you replied, enjoying the conversation.

He leaned in a little closer, his tone becoming more personal. "Especially when someone as beautiful as you is here."

You smile nervously, not expecting his direct approach. "Oh, thank you," you responded, trying to look around and grab Seb’s attention.

Sebastian, having finished his duties, spotted you talking to the guy, looking around. He saw the man getting too friendly and walked over to you.

He walked over, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey, honey. Would you like a drink? Oh! Who's this?"

The gentleman quickly realized he was intruding. "Just talking about the event."

Sebastian nodded, his grip on your waist firm. "Enjoy the evening then."

As the man walked away, you turned to Sebastian, raising an eyebrow. "I love when you get protective, it’s hot, the jealousy too."

Sebastian smirked, pulling you closer. "Jealous? Me?! Don’t know what you’re talking about."

You smiled, kissing his cheek. "Mhmm, yea, yea. Let’s get my drink."

Jenson 

You were attending an award ceremony, mingling with various celebrities. Jenson was busy with interviews, so you decided to socialize. A charming actor approached you, engaging you in a lively conversation about the a.

"It's great to see so many talented people here," he said, smiling.

"Agreed," you replied, engaging in the conversation."All nominees this year were very talented and impressive."

He nodded thoughtfully, then leaned in a little closer, his gaze lingering on you. "Speaking of impressive, I couldn't help but notice how stunning you look tonight."

You chuckled softly, flattered but unsure how to respond. "Thank you, that's very kind of you."

He grinned charmingly. "So, are you here with anyone special tonight?"

Jenson spotted you talking to the guy. And started to walk towards you. 

He walked over, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey, baby. Who's this?"

The actor quickly realized you were taken. "Just talking about the event."

Jenson nodded, his grip on your waist firm. "Yea, it’s a nice thing."

As the man walked away, you turned to Jenson, raising an eyebrow. "Nice thing?"

Jenson sighed, pulling you closer so he can squeezing your waist. "Didn’t know what to say without being rude so that's what came to my mind."

You smiled and kissed him gently. "Let’s go check out the catering at this 'nice thing'."

Daniel

You were exploring a quaint art gallery in Paris, enjoying the serene atmosphere and the beauty of the artwork on display. Daniel had left his phone in the car, leaving you to appreciate the art alone. As you admired a painting, a friendly gallery assistant approached, eager to discuss the artist's work.

"This piece here is quite exceptional," he said, gesturing towards a vivid abstract painting. "It really captures the essence of movement and emotion."

"It truly does," you replied, appreciating his enthusiasm. "The color blending and stippling is beautiful."

He smiled warmly. "You have a keen eye for art. Beautiful art for a beautiful girl."

"Oh, thank you," you said, trying to show no interest.

Daniel walked into the gallery, He approached, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey, baby. Finding any new favorites?"

The gallery assistant reacted quickly to Daniel's presence and backed away. "Just discussing the beautiful artwork," he explained.

Daniel nodded casually. "Thanks for your insights, but we're good here."

As the gallery assistant politely excused himself, you turned to Daniel with a playful smirk. "Oh, someoness jealouss?"

Daniel chuckled softly, pulling you closer. "No, no. Protective, yes. Jealous, could never be me."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Mhm hm, if you say so."

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[csainzoperator]

numero uno boyfriend ☆

summary: random bf texts from f1 drivers

warnings: fem pronouns, mentions of sex (bj), (virginity), nicknames (baby), threatening jokes, mentions of drinking, slightly suggestive, thats it i think?

charles, carlos, lewis, george, max

oscar, lando, alex, logan, daniel

an: teehee sorry for disappearing, but here's a lil something for u lovies 🙏🏼