#max and carlo

[deluxewhump]

Can we get some Carlo and Max today? 😍

A Carlo and Max request in the year of our lord 2024! I had kind of a long day and this is just a snippet that came to me :) Early days (but also up to date with my revisions)

Desiderata

When Max was home, Carlo found himself wanting more and more to be near to him. At first he was afraid Max Svenson was going to reveal some dark nature or intention, some other reason he was willing to pay all that money for him. He even convinced himself late one night that the phone conversation he overheard between Max and Stella Abend was fake, and that Max knew he was listening. But that had been one of those first several nights, when he wasn’t sure of anything. They had been long, and lonely.

Now he was glad to hear Max’s truck in the driveway. He found he wanted to be in the same room with him. Max wasn’t big on television, but he spent a few hours every evening in his study on the computer. Carlo had no excuse to follow him there, but he was welcomed warmly enough that he did not feel uneasy staying, or coming back night after night to seek his company until it became something of a routine. Max gave him books and electronics and a blanket to curl up in an armchair with, though he had not asked for these things. He would never ask, but he was happy once he had them, like a stray cat given a bed and a meal.

It occurred to him that comforts were something that could have stipulations, that could be taken away once given, though Max did not seem in the loop about this. He did not seem in the loop about anything to do with pets and their masters, actually. Carlo knew this was actually normal, not pet ownership. Erik had said as much. This was how it was for the majority of people, just not in any circles he’d ever been exposed to. That he would end up in the care of someone like this, someone so uninitiated, would have seemed a near impossibility to him until very recently.

He liked it when Max would talk on the phone on these evenings. Sometimes it was a more formal call to his company director, or a client. From those Carlo learned in bits and pieces about what Max did for work, and how he conducted himself there. He could not help but compare and contrast to Erik, who Carlo had observed for many years in his role as co-CEO of O&H Logistics. Other times, Max would have a casual call with one of his friends, or his mother, or Stella Abend again, though they didn’t talk about him when he was in the room. Knowing these were conversations he was allowed to overhear, Carlo didn’t feel as guilty as when he’d eavesdropped.

He listened carefully to every intonation Max would make on these calls, distracted by the paperback or electronic gifts Max had given him or drowsily watching the rain paint the windowpanes of the solitary old house. He learned every detail of Max’s voice, every nuance of his vocabulary, his laugh and why he had laughed. He learned about his likes and dislikes, his opinion on local politics since one of his friends was running for local office, things he was planning with a friend next month and when their other friend’s birthday was. It was like getting to know him without the painful ordeal of holding up his end of the conversation— always afraid of saying the wrong thing, revealing too much or too little, or behaving in some way Max did not want. It was safe like this. Easy. Like observing a character in a book, or from the barrier of a screen. In this way, Max’s voice grew familiar to him, and then soothing.

The next time Max spoke to him directly, Carlo noticed the uniqueness of the tone he took with him. It was both gentle and unassuming, reassuring and yet almost unsure of himself. He was struck by the thought that he could read these subtleties in his new master now, after spending more time near him.

“You can stay,” Max said, meaning the armchair Carlo had fallen asleep in. Max had touched his knee to wake him as he passed by, letting him know he was headed off to bed. “You’re good,” he said as Carlo blinked up at him. “I just didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

It was the first time he thought he might grow to love someone other than the man who’d sold him.

[rana030]

Pov: you're reading fanfiction and suddenly y/n starts to call him daddy

[theereboseffect]

all the f1 x gladiator drawings i've done so far

[foudreika]

F1 Rainbow Illustrations

All the rainbow illustrations I did between last year and this year! :D Always super satisfying to put them all together lol

[pppuri]

gossip in the paddock

[estiehowells]

With the F1 Movie release lingering closer and closer, it’s time to have an uncomfortable conversation.

Forgive me for going all feminist on you (I’m not sorry), but have a seat and let’s chat, yeah?

Let’s discuss the negative impact this movie is going to have on women in motorsport as well as female fans, shall we?

Of course the obvious conversation is about the women working in motorsport. Imagine how poorly the plot is going to reflect on them. Why? Oh, well let’s see. You’ve got an entire plot that revolves around the main character (who’s played by a misogynistic wife beater, by the way, great casting choice!) sleeping with his fucking female engineer.

Now bear in mind how that’s going to negatively affect the PR of women working in motorsport. Especially Laura Mueller, who is the sport’s first ever female race engineer in its entire 75 year history. Who literally already has incels on the internet saying the only way she got her job is because she slept with someone.

And of course, consider the female fans.

There are so many of us out here every day fighting with male fans who think we “don’t know anything” and “only watch F1 because the drivers are hot.” We are constantly ostracized in this fucking sport and feeling like we have to prove that we’re even allowed to like it.

Can you imagine how poorly the F1 Movie will reflect on us?

All this movie is going to do is push the harmful, negative stereotype that F1 is a “man’s world.” It’s just going to make women feel like they don’t belong in a sport where they already feel shoved aside.

So, and maybe I’m being a little dramatic here, but if you happen to know a female F1 fan, please be kind to her. Please check on her.

And to all my ladies, we do belong in this sport. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. 💜💜

[jungwnies]

f1 grid | serving yourself less (tiktok trend)

୨ৎ : featuring : all drivers on the grid ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : serving your formula one boyfriend more than you serve yourself

୨ৎ : genre : comedy - tiktok trend ୨ৎ : word count : 1547

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ 10k event | masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : i got a final exam tmrw and i already know im beyond cooked

ʚ・red bull

max verstappen

immediately looks at your plate, then at his, then back at yours.

“that’s it?”

scoops food onto your plate without asking. “you didn’t see me doing that.”

mutters under his breath the whole time: “ridiculous. you think i’m gonna eat all this while you nibble on two leaves?”

makes you sit down while he fixes you a proper plate.

“you’ll thank me later when you’re not starving in two hours.”

yuki tsunoda

jaw drops. full betrayal.

“why is your plate sad? do you hate food?”

takes food off his plate and puts it on yours like he’s rescuing it.

“you need to eat or u will be grumpy. and you know what happens when you're grumpy.”

glares at your plate for the rest of the meal to make sure you don’t sneak food back.

will literally feed you if he has to.

ʚ・mercedes

george russell

stares at your plate like you’ve just insulted everything he stands for.

“darling... that’s not a meal. that’s a sad sample.”

immediately puts his fork down. “what’s going on? why are you eating like a bird?”

gives you a speech about nutrients. you don’t even make it five minutes in before he’s switching your plate with his.

“eat. i’ll make us smoothies after. with oats. and peanut butter.”

glares at anyone else at the table who doesn’t say anything.

kimi antonelli

freezes mid-bite and just blinks at your plate.

“...wait, is that all you’re eating?”

awkwardly tries not to panic but can’t stop glancing at your food.

“you want some of mine?” pushes his whole plate toward you like a puppy offering a toy.

you say you’re not hungry and he goes quiet.

five minutes later: “okay but… what if i just gave you half of everything i have?”

ʚ・ferrari

charles leclerc

eyebrows instantly scrunch together.

“bébé… where’s the rest?”

literally keeps waiting for you to go back for more.

when you don’t, he starts panicking gently: “is this about something? are you okay? are you mad at me?”

puts things from his plate on yours like it’s no big deal.

whispers “please eat, i hate when you don’t” like you just told him you’re leaving forever.

kisses your temple and goes “merci” when you take a bite.

lewis hamilton

side-eyes your plate with a little smirk.

“you planning to go back for seconds… or is that a cry for help?”

smooth as hell while sliding his fork over to your plate, spearing some of his food, and holding it to your mouth.

“open up, baby. i know you're hungry.”

if you say you’re not, he tilts his head and gives you the look.

“don’t make me get up and fix you a real plate. because i will.”

makes you finish at least half of his meal too, while rubbing your back the whole time.

ʚ・mclaren

lando norris

stares at your plate. then stares at you.

“what’s that?”

full dramatic gasp. clutches chest. “you’re joking. that’s the appetizer, right? where’s the rest?”

scoots your plate next to his and starts transferring food over like it’s a formula one pit stop.

“you’re not doing this ‘cute portions’ thing again. eat properly or i’ll call your mum.”

makes airplane noises while feeding you a bite just to be annoying.

you try to glare but you’re laughing too hard to stop him.

oscar piastri

doesn’t say anything at first, just silently eyes your plate… then yours again.

“that’s... all?”

furrows his brows slightly. “is something wrong? are you okay?”

super calm but will not let this slide. adds food to your plate like he’s just “helping,” not completely panicking inside.

casually: “you can finish mine too if you want.”

when you finally take a real bite, he visibly relaxes and says, “thank you” like you just took your meds.

ʚ・aston martin

fernando alonso

pretends not to notice at first.

then eyes your plate like it's personally disrespecting him.

“you’re kidding. right? that’s not dinner. that’s—snack behavior.”

takes your plate, loads it up himself, and hands it back without a word.

“eat,” he says, deadpan.

if you protest, he hits you with the eyebrow raise and mutters something in Spanish under his breath like “mi vida está loca.”

cuts your food into pieces and says “better” while sipping his wine like the crisis has been handled.

lance stroll

instantly frowns when he sees your plate.

“hey… where’s the rest?”

full concerned rich boy mode: “did the chef mess something up? do you want me to order something else?”

scoots closer and starts offering bites of his meal.

“you want a bite? actually—here, have all of it.”

if you take even a few bites, he goes, “that’s my girl” and kisses your forehead like you just saved his life.

100% sneaks extra dessert onto your plate later. plays innocent when you call him out.

ʚ・williams

alex albon

dramatic gasp. like cartoon-level gasp.

“okay, what is that? no really, explain. is that a bite? a sample? a decoration?”

“i’m calling your mom. i’m calling your best friend. we’re staging an intervention.”

takes your plate and starts adding food while lecturing you.

“you’re hot and smart but your portion control is a war crime.”

kisses your temple like he didn’t just drag you and says, “eat up, pretty girl.”

continues feeding you from his plate like a clingy golden retriever boyfriend.

carlos sainz

freezes when he sees your plate. stares at it. stares at you.

“is that all you’re eating?”

you shrug. he sighs and sets down his fork. full concerned boyfriend mode.

“mi amor, that’s not enough. seriously.”

pushes his plate toward you and waits until you take a bite. then goes soft.

“tienes que comer bien, cariño.” (you have to eat well, darling.)

“te necesito fuerte y feliz, no con hambre.” (i need you strong and happy, not hungry.)

spoons extra food onto your plate every time you’re not looking. smiles like he’s done nothing.

ʚ・haas

ollie bearman

gasps like you just insulted his entire bloodline.

“wait wait wait. THAT’S your plate? you’re kidding.”

points at it dramatically. “someone get the girl a real meal!”

piles food on your plate himself while mumbling, “she thinks that’s gonna get her through the day? she’s insane. adorable. but insane.”

offers to feed you personally if it means you’ll eat more.

“open up. no, seriously. i’m not letting you leave this table hungry.”

won’t let it go for a week. “remember when you tried to survive on three leaves and half a tomato?”

esteban ocon

doesn’t say anything right away. just side-eyes your plate with increasing concern.

“is that enough? are you sure? you’re sure?”

when you insist it’s fine, he just sighs and very gently starts moving food from his plate to yours like it’s a covert operation.

“just in case you get hungry later,” he says softly.

watches you eat like a hawk. when you finish, he smiles like it’s a personal win.

mutters to himself in French the entire time — something suspiciously close to, “elle va me rendre fou.” (she’s going to drive me crazy.)

ʚ・racing bulls

liam lawson

does a double take. then slowly turns to you.

“so you hate food now? or is this performance art?”

chuckles but immediately adds more food to your plate. “this feels illegal.”

makes jokes the entire meal, “you need a magnifying glass to see that portion.”

but side-eyes you so hard every time you put your fork down.

halfway through, scoots his plate between you both. “just share mine. easier.”

whispers “you’re actually feral for that” in your ear, but kisses your cheek while handing you a bite.

isack hadjar

absolutely scandalized.

“quoi?! that’s not dinner. that’s—what is that!”

full-on offended. places a hand on his heart like you’ve betrayed his entire French culinary heritage.

literally gets up and remakes your plate. “you eat what i give you. this is criminal.”

gives you a “look” every time you try to protest. you know the one.

softens immediately when you take a real bite. “bon. merci, mon cœur.”

kisses your head like a reward and mutters, “don’t scare me like that again.”

ʚ・alpine

pierre gasly

immediately dramatic. like, eyebrows raised, jaw dropped, wine glass in hand.

“you trying to break my heart? because that’s what this is.”

pokes at your plate with his fork. “this is… decorative. c’est rien.”

slides his plate next to yours and starts serving you from it.

“eat, mon ange. i need you strong enough to carry this relationship.”

flirts relentlessly until you give in.

“you’ll eat for me, right? be my good girl?”

smirks like he just won the Monaco GP when you take a real bite.

jack doohan

doesn’t say much. just blinks at your plate.

“is that enough?”

you say yes. he nods.

five minutes later he’s quietly refilling your plate like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“i just thought you might want more.”

casually puts a piece of his food on your fork and waits.

won’t push you, but his quiet worry is palpable.

kisses your temple when you finish and mumbles, “thank you,” like you saved his appetite.

ʚ・kick sauber

nico hulkenberg

raises an eyebrow. says nothing for a full thirty seconds.

“...that’s it?”

sips his drink, pretending not to care. he cares so deeply it’s physically hurting him.

eventually breaks. sighs and says, “give me your plate.”

doesn’t ask — just starts adding food to it.

“you’ll thank me when you’re not lightheaded later.”

kisses your forehead once and mutters something like, “don’t do that again, yeah?”

gabriel bortoleto

visibly stressed.

“babe? love? angel? why is your plate empty?”

starts rapid-fire listing all the food options: “do you want rice? bread? i can go get something else—”

won’t start eating until you’ve got a full plate.

watches you take every bite like he’s tracking your hydration levels too.

ends the night making you tea and saying “you scared me,” while cuddling you for the next three hours.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[rex-rambles]

➤ OOPS? (F1 TEXTS)

summary: the f1 grid call you by the wrong name

pairing: max verstappen, oscar piastri, lando norris, charles leclerc, daniel ricciardo and carlos sainz

warnings: mentions of infidelity (all jokes), slightly suggestive in lando/daniel's

➤ MASTERLIST

a/n: would yall want me to add more drivers to these?? like lewis/george? let me know :)

[isacksteban]

[deluxewhump]

Fishhook

Adjacent to this piece

CW: accidental hand injury, nausea and dizziness response (vasovagal syncope I suppose), wound tending, max + lo talk about pet whump universe and their relationship to each other in it

@distinctlywhumpthing -you requested some lines on this :))

The fishhook caught Carlo’s hand like a surgical tool and buried itself to its glinting base in no more than a second.

Adrenaline almost made him try to pull it out, but he hesitated. Instinct told him it was in too deep, the hook too curved. It took a moment of staring down at it to even believe what he’d just done. How had he allowed such a careless thing to happen? He wished to return to the previous minute and pay attention. That was Max’s oft repeated advice when they were out traipsing the woods: just pay attention. He glanced at his new keeper, fishing in the sunshine twenty yards away and oblivious to Carlo’s mistake.

It was the same hand he’d broken his finger on. It seemed like another lifetime he’d gone onto his master’s back porch cradling it, unsure what to do. Erik had helped him, hadn’t even faulted him for provoking Keith. He remembered sleeping for a long time in a pleasant medicated daze, his finger in a splint and throbbing mildly. Being unable to bring this new mistake to Erik for help wrung him breathless with homesickness. The adrenaline flagged from the first time since he’d realized what he’d done, and in its absence he finally felt the pain.

“Max?” he croaked, and coughed to clear his throat. He wished again he could just pull it out himself, but didn’t dare.

“Max!” he called, louder this time. Starlings sang in the autumn trees above their heads, and where their branches broke was a strip of blue sky like a mirror of the river. Upstream, Max turned to him.

“I…” it was too stupid to say out loud. His voice shook. After he trailed off, Max put it together by the way he was holding his injured hand, or the thin line of blood making its way slowly to his wrist. Either way, he set down his fishing rod. Even with his eyes dropped back to his hand, Carlo heard the urgency in Max’s approach from his boots on the rocky riverbed.

“It’s okay,” were the first words out of his mouth— spoken so surely, like a man who had seen a dozen fish hooks in hands just this week. He touched the sides of Carlo’s arms. “It’s okay. Can I see?”

He lifted his hand between them. Max hissed in sympathy. “Really got that in there, huh?”

As he took hold of his wrist to better inspect the accident, Carlo became aware of a rising dizziness that had gripped him some moments ago, only now becoming severe enough to warrant his attention. He took a deep inhale through his nose to try to gain control of it. His face felt impossibly hot. Max’s eyes lifted from his hand to meet his.

“Sit down.” He guided down him to the rocks. “Don’t look at it. Look at the opposite shore over there. Take another deep breath. You’re gonna be fine. How’s the pain?”

“Not bad. It’s just really… weird that there’s a hook in my hand.”

Max knelt down to his level and took his hand again to inspect. “I know. It’s enough to make anyone a little squeamish. Don’t look— that’ll make it worse. Keep looking over at the other side of the river. I’ve got you.”

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying enough attention. It’s so stupid. I didn’t—”

“Shh,” Max hushed, busy cutting the still-attached fishing line with his knife without tugging on the hook. If he hadn’t already been lightheaded, Carlo thought the gentle shushing he’d just been given would’ve done it alone.

He was more than happy to keep quiet. Opening his mouth made him nauseated, if his new keeper wasn’t the type to ask how he could be so fucking stupid, he wasn’t going to address it either.

“It might be in the meat of your thumb here,” Max said. “That’s just the hook doing its job, unfortunately. Hey, don’t look at it. Look at me. You’re gonna be good, we just need to get this removed safely. Maybe take you to a doctor.”

Carlo recalled the opening lines of a poem from some dusty anthology in his old home with perfect clarity, clearer than the red trees or blue sky. What a thrill— My thumb instead of an onion. The top quite gone.

“Can you just do it? With your knife?”

Max blinked at him. The river was on their left, and for a moment Carlo thought maybe he hadn’t heard him over the sound of the water running over the rocks in the shallows.

“No,” he said after a strange beat of silence, looking back down at his task. He’d heard perfectly fine. “Hands are delicate, I don’t need to be digging around near tendons. You want to be able to use it after, right?”

That last was meant to be lighthearted, but Carlo caught the moment of disbelief on Max’s face when he’d asked him to do it himself. The request translated to an unmistakable display of trust.

Now that he knew Max had heard his plea for what it was, he was embarrassed for showing his cards like that. Like an animal bearing its neck.

“I don’t want to go to an emergency room,” he said quietly. A fact, not a request. He had plenty of practice in quietly exerting his own wishes without sounding demanding, spoiled, or insolent. Keith picked up on any of those attitudes immediately, and he always paid for it. Erik had more patience for it, on account of the affection he had for him. He might be annoyed by perceived insolence one day and mildly amused by it the next. Of course, Keith would’ve punished him for this kind of mistake by squeezing his hand with the hook in it, or letting the men yank him around with a line attached to it as a joke on their break.

“Mr Holstrom always had a doctor visit me at the house.”

Max was still studying the angle of the hook. He made as if to touch a part of it and hesitated. “Shit,” he muttered. “I have bait and god-knows-what all over my hands.”

“He always called a doctor to the house…” he continued, concerned that Max didn’t know about the lax protocols of pet treatment in US hospitals. “I can’t go to the regular ER.”

“Anyone can go to the ER,” Max replied, distracted. “I don’t have pet insurance, but they’ll just bill me.”

“No, it’s…” he felt tears of frustration prick the backs of his eyes.

Max lifted his head. “It’s what?” he asked, attentive now.

“It’s not a good place for me.”

He could tell Max was skeptical. Did he really not know the way of the world? Erik said most people don’t realize, or don’t want to. Many of us don’t like to dwell on problems we can’t fix in an hour, he said. It’s not our nature.

“Well, I think I can get this out for you anyway. But it has to stay clean. Don’t touch it. First aid kit is in the truck. Can you walk with me, or do you want me to go get it?”

He insisted he could walk. When they finally got back to the truck, Max insisted on lifting him up to the open tailgate and set his first aid kit beside him. On the side of the dirt access road, he put on a pair of latex gloves before gently probing the eye of the hook. Carlo winced and looked over his left shoulder at the line of birch and pine trees. Visualizing the hook moving under his skin made him feel lightheaded all over again.

“I know it’s going to hurt regardless, but tell me if it’s too much.”

“Okay,” he breathed, and took a deep breath through his nose to keep the dizziness at bay.

“It’s not as deep as I initially thought, it’s just a weird angle.”

He whimpered as Max slowly dragged the straight end of the metal out, along his skin, until the hooked part caught and Carlo flinched.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said in that hushing tone Carlo was beginning to listen for like a key in the door.

One gloved finger held the base of the hook in place as he searched something on his cellphone with the other hand.

“Hang tight. There’s a trick for this, I just can’t remember exactly how it goes.”

Soon he was looping a piece of fishing line around the curve of the hook, right where it went into his skin, like threading a needle.

“I’m going to coax it out at an angle so I don’t cause any more damage. I’ll push on this side and pull the line at the same time, and it will come out the same angle it went in.”

The pain doubled when Max pulled the fishing line, and he could feel a warm trickle of blood oozing from the site. He bit the inside of his cheek, and in a moment felt the sudden, blissful absence of the hook.

Max applied pressure to the bleeding. “Move your thumb for me? Good. Just checking.”

Whatever he put on the wound when he lifted the gauze stung fiercely, but that sort of pain was far preferable to the nauseating feeling of metal moving under his skin.

“Need to keep a close eye on it for infection.”

Carlo watched him place a bandage and tape it down. He liked the sound of Max’s voice, and watching his hands as he worked. Usually this was on something other than him, and Max had rarely stood so close to him for any reason.

“I’m sorry,” Carlo said, just to cover his bases.

“Don’t be. It happens.”

“Thank you. For taking it out.”

Max began packing up the first aid box. “‘Course.”

“We can go back out now…” he offered, still cringing at the thought of derailing the weekend activities.

Max smiled knowingly as he latched the kit shut. “We can also go home.” He took his time choosing his next words, and Carlo’s anxiety doubled with every second that passed in silence. He deserved a reprimand, but it would still sting from someone he’d been trying so hard to please these last few weeks.

“You’re a little too good at being a pet, you know that? You’ve got experience at this. I don’t. You should take advantage of that. I’m like the substitute teacher you can convince there wasn’t any homework.”

Carlo looked away, down at the offending fish hook on the tailgate of the truck. It was wet with his blood.

“I’m teasing, Carlo. I’m sorry. I just mean… you don’t have to try so hard. I know this is all really strange for you, probably even more than it is for me, but you’re doing fine. I’m not gonna make you go sit by the river all day with a hurt hand when home is a half hour away. That’s not.. normal. I know it’s hard, but just… just roll with it, okay? I’ll never try to test you, or trick you. I mean what I say. If I need you to do something or behave a certain way… I’ll just tell you.”

He nodded, both chastised and relieved. “I’m trying,” he said, hoping it sounded more like willingness to collaborate than defensiveness.

“I know.” Max put a brief hand on his knee and Carlo resisted the urge to lean forward and put his forehead on his chest. “I’m just going for clarity between you and me. That’s all. Come on. Careful.” He offered his arm to help him jump down from the tailgate. “Let’s go home.”

[calionmain]

[babygirlewis]

｡･ﾟﾟ･what position are y’all in｡･ﾟﾟ･

warnings: none but slightly suggestive

drivers: f!reader x lh44, ln4, cl16, mv1, op81, cs55

note: this was what u guys voted for and it was SO FUN to write omg

[whatsverstappeningnow]

how f1 drivers react

to girlfriend!reader wearing a necklace with their race number on it (some slightly suggestive lines included) (requested)

drivers mentioned: MV33, LN4, OP81, AA23, CS55, CL16, LH44, GR63

max verstappen

The sun shines in through the kitchen window in golden strings of light. It's a quiet day at home, with no plans till the afternoon and no need to hurry there. Still, you've already dressed yourself in a new summer dress you've bought. The material flows down over your hips, swishing as you turn in the mirror and then as you walk from your bedroom to the living room to show Max your chosen outfit. But you dress isn't the only new item you're wearing.

You'd bought it secretly. A suprise. One you hoped he'd love.

Max spots the necklace right away, his gaze flicking from your eyes, to the dress and then landing on it with a sudden, knowing smirk curling at his mouth. From where's he's sat on the couch, he leans in just a little, elbows on his knees and head resting on his upturned hand. His voice low and teasing as he speaks.

“Well, well, look at you,” he says, voice thick with amusement and something a bit more dangerous.

"You like my new dress?" You ask, giving him a quick spin, hands in the air for a moment and then settling on your waist. His gaze lingers over you with careful precision.

"Not the only new thing you've got on," he muses, tilting his head to the side slightly, "Where'd you get that?"

"Ordered it," you say simply, as if it were nothing at all, as you readjust the necklace chain.

“Careful, schat. Trying to make sure no one forgets who you belong to, huh?”

He stands, slowly, holding your gaze. He stalks towards you, one hand reaching out to hold your waist, the other fingering the chain of the necklace, his eyes lingering on the number and then dragging up to meet your gaze.

You catch the challenge in his eyes and flash him a grin in return. “Maybe I just like the idea of having you close, all the time.”

The teasing in his expression softens in an instant. His fingers gently brush the pendant as he looks at you, eyes warm and serious now.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, voice softer, “I like the sound of that.”

He pulls you into a quick kiss, no dramatics, just the softnes of quiet love, then he lets his forehead rest against yours.

“You don't know what you do to me,” he whispers into the small space between the two of you, his eyes resting closed like he's still processing the necklace and the dress. It's barely any distsnce at all, yet it feels like a mile. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips.

"I think I've got some idea." You smile. He does too.

lando norris

He notices it while you’re lying beside each other on the couch, limbs tangled up together in a familar way, and watching some random movie you're only half paying attention to. It's background noise more than anything. You couldn't care less though, just being with Lando was enough to make you relax.

It's about halfway through the movie, with some museum scene plays across the screen, when he notices the new shiny necklace hanging around your neck.

“Wait—hang on. Is that… is that my number?” His voice, though scratchy and slow from tiredness, goes up slightly as he speaks. The little queaks of excitement in his words make you smile.

You can only nod, biting back a smile, desperate to see his reaction. You'd bought the necklace on a whim a few nights ago and were lucy it had arrived while Lando wasn't home. The fun was the suprise of it, after all.

He stretches forward for the remote, sat on the coffee table infront of you two, and pauses the movie dramatically.

“You love me.”

You blink, a small laugh bubbling in your chest at his sudden and sombre declaration.

“I mean, yeah, obviously—”

“No, no. This is serious,” he says, grinning from ear to ear like an madman, all teeth and dimples. “You got a number four on your chest. That’s, like, actual dedication.”

You raise a brow, amused. “It’s just a necklace.”

“Just a—?” He gasps, scandalised, hand to his chest and all, like you’ve personally offended him. “That’s my number. You realise what you’ve done, right? You’re basically branded now.”

“Branded?”

He nods solemnly, though his eyes are still sparkling with excitement. “Yup. You wear that out and people are gonna know. Like, know know. I won’t even have to introduce you anymore. They’ll see it and go, ‘Ah, that’s Lando’s girl.’”

You can't help but laugh now, full bellied and joyful, and he grins wider as he hears it, if that’s even possible.

He tackles you into the cushions, kissing your neck with soft pecks. “Next step: matching tattoos. Just saying.”

"Lando!" you cry out with a huff of amusement, knowing he's entirely joking.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding..." His quiet for a moment, then looks up at you again with a cheeky grin. "Unless..."

"Lando, no. If you want everyone to know you’re mine, I have a few other ways in mind..." Your hand reaches out to his collarbone, then traces soft lines up to his neck and jawline. Your touch is hot and familiar, slow and intentional. You can see him swallow hard as you do it.

"Oh, yeah? Maybe you could show me them. Just to make sure we're on the same page, love."

oscar piastri

Coffee dates with Oscar are a constant in your life. There's a small shop around the corner from his place that you love to visit on quiet, sunny days. When the sun rose that morning, seemingly shinning brighter than normal, and with a particually joyful sparkle, you knew it was a coffee date day.

It was the perfect time to show Oscar your new piece of jewellery.

He notices the necklace while you’re talking, halfway through a sip of his coffee, eyes slipping from your gaze to the number hanging around you neck. The unexpected, but not undesired, sight causes him to do a double take.

“Wait…” he leans in, interupting your sentence, though you don't mind. You only smile softly as he squints slightly, slowly taking in the sight infront of him, then blinks up at you with slight disbelief. “Is that... 81. My number?”

You nod just once, a little shy, and pick up the charm that dangle from the end of the chain, holding it closer for him to see. He leans in to meet you halfway. But before you can say anything else, a deep blush spreads across his face. He cheeks go an adorable shade of pink as you watch the cogs turn in his brain.

His mouth opens like he has a joke ready, but nothing comes out except a breathy little laugh.

“That’s… kinda cute,” he mutters, eyes still fixed on it like he’s really trying to quickly process all the implications of you going outside wearing his number so casually. “But, like, uh, cool cute. Really cool.” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

When you smile and say it’s because you like having him close all the time, he looks down, shaking his head with a small, dimply smile. The blush on his cheeks remains, though he looks less caught off guard than before.

“You’re gonna make me soft,” he murmurs, his hands reaching out to hold yours across the table. Then under his breath, he adds, “Will you wear it to the race next week? Please. Even just under your jumper.”

You agree, of course. You hadn't bought the necklace to hide it away, and you tell him as much. Your words just make him smile and pull you hand closer towards him to plant a gentle kiss to your knuckles. Then it's your turn to blush, squeezing his hand with a smile.

And when you do wear it the next week, proudly walking into the paddock hand in had with Oscar, his smile is brighter than any coffee date day sun has ever been.

carlos sainz

Carlos, the gentleman that he is, loved to plan spontaneous dates. One more occasions than one, what you thought was going to be a quiet night at home had turned into the romantic night out. Candles on resturant tables, hands holding your and taking out the chair for you, the whole deal. Which was how you once again found yourself picking out a fancy outfit, wit no idea which resterant you were going to.

It was sweet of him, though you did wish you had a little more to go on than just wear something pretty, not so hard you you, yes? to go off of while trying to pick your outfit. Settling on an old favourite outfit, you slipped into it with ease, only calling Carlos in when you realised you needed help zipping up the back. Upon hearing his name, he pattered into the room obediently, already dressed in his dress shirt and pants, look perfectly put together.

"Gorgeous, cariño," he whispered into your ear after doing as you asked, "Anything else you need, my love?"

With a barely concelled smirk, you went over to your jewellery box and pulled out your new necklace.

"Help me put this on?" you asked innocently, walking over to him, placing it delicately in his hand and turning around, patiently awaiting his reaction.

“¿Qué es esto?” he asks, his voice light and breathy.

You smile, though it's more of a smirk than anything, but don't turn around. “A little something I got, it's new.”

“Number fifty five?” he says, fingertips ghosting along the back of your neck as he put it on for you, then settling his touch onto your hips to admire your outfit in the mirrors reflection, his head resting on your shoulder. “Dios mío, I’ve turned you into a fangirl, hm?”

“I've always been a fan.”

His brows lift, amused and smug, head tilted slightly to the side. “Of me? Or just the accent?

“Mostly the arms,” you quip, resting your hands ontop of his.

He laughs, pulling you closer and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “That’s permanent, right? Not just for today? Because I kind of love seeing my number right there.”

“So everyone will know I'm yours?” you joke, voice light.

He kisses your temple, voice low. “Sí. I like it that way. I'm yours. And you're mine.”

alex albon

He’s on his way out the door, backpack on and car keys in hand, when he finally notices it hanging from your neck.

You had it on all day and waited patiently at breakfast, then on your walk together, then through lunch, and then while he was getting ready to leave your apartment. for him to notice, but he simply hadn’t. The whole day. That was, until now.

You we're glad he finally had, you would have hated to have spoiled the fun and justed showed it to him yourself after going through all the trouble of buying it secretly and hiding in in the back of your pjamama drawer.

Oh, well. At least he had spotted it before leaving, now the fun could begin.

His mouth drops open into the perfect little ‘o’ shape as he stares at the little shinny 23 hanging down from around your neck. His eyes are glued to the necklace, one outstretched finger pointing at it.

“Wait, what is that?”

You smile, and wave your hands around it with fluttering fingers. “A new necklace. Nice, right?”

He squints, then closes the front door softly and steps closer to you. “Is that my number?”

“Don’t let it get to your head.” You smirk, and tilt your head slightly to the side, trying to hold in your laugh at the stunned, suprised look on his face.

He dramatically clutches his chest, standing right in front of you now. “Too late. You’ve turned me into a puddle. I've melted.”

Then he leans in, eyes glowing with mischief as his hands reach out to grab your upper arms. “Just promise me one thing. Please?”

His voice drips with glee.

“What?”

“If someone, some guy, ever comes up to you in public... ask for your number or something, you better point to that necklace, and then say my name. Clearly. Loudly. Alex. Alex Albon. 23. Got it? Yeah?”

You roll your eyes, laughing at his bright smile. “You’re unbelievable."

“Unbelievably lovable, yes. Hence you having my number arounf your neck.”

You could only laugh harder at his smug expression and mock dramatic tone. After pressing a soft kiss to his lips, you reply, "You're so stupid. Truly.”

"Stupidly in love with you? Definitely."

"You're lucky I love you too."

"Luckiest guy in the world, I know."

charles leclerc

You'd been wearing it for a few days already, under jumpers and high necked shirts. it felt like a little secret, a constant reminder that Charles was with you even when we wasn't actually next to you. You weren't exactly keeping it a secret, per say, but you hadn't yet put it on display.

He notices it at the most random time, while you’re brushing your teeth, hair up, wearing one of his old shirts. The collor of the shirt, well-worn and stretch, dipped over your collarbone and revealling the shiny little necklace you were wearing under neither..

He squints, rubbing his eye from tiredness, or maybe slight disbelief. “Sixteen?”

You nod around a mouthful of toothpaste, toothbrush sticking out one side of your mouth, the edge of your lips curling up into a small smirk.

“Mon dieu,” he mutters, half teasing, half stunned, coming to stand behind you and wrapping his arms around possessively around your waist. He rests his weight onto you, curling into your warmth. “You’re more sentimental than me.”

You spit, rinse, and smile, Charles never moving from his place behind you. It's a purely domestic scene, a moment that reminds you how comfortbale you exist in eachother's orbit. “I wanted something cute to remind me of you. Something to keep with me when your away.”

He watches you through the mirror, soft eyes watching you move with a tired ease, hands pressing comforting circles into your hips. A constant warm presence. “You should have told me, I would loved to buy it for you. You deserve many pretty things, chérie.”

You lean back into him, letting his body mold to yours. You fit perfectly into eachothers embrace.

“I didn’t need you to buy it,” you murmur, reaching down to toy with the charm. “It felt more special this way. Like it was mine to choose.”

He hums into the crook of your neck, nose brushing softly against your skin. “Still,” he says, voice low and a little hoarse from sleep, “I would’ve added matching earrings. A whole Charles Leclerc collection.”

You snort, turning around to look him in the eyes, hands reaching out to hold his face between your palms. “I don’t need anything else. Just you.”

His expression shifts, tender and quietly overcome. He presses a slow kiss to your lips, then you forehead, and pulls you against him. “You have me. Even when I’m not here. Especially then.”

There’s a pause. A quiet that isn’t awkward or heavy, just full of feeling. He looks down at the necklace again, then back at you with a soft smile, one you only ever see when he's looking at you.

Charles sighs, breath warm and ticklish against your skin. “Sixteen looks good on you,” he says eventually. And those simple words hold within them a hundred different meanings you can't wait to dream about all night.

"I'll have to wear it more often, then," you say simply, and the words make him smile even wider.

lewis hamilton

You and Lewis had gotten to the truly domestic era of your relationship. You had keys to each other’s apartments, and you knew you could let yourselves into each other's spaces. So when Lewis texted you, saying he had work to do at home, but you were welcome to come and sit with him while he did it, exist in his orbit for the afternoon, you were soon letting yourself in his front door. Any chance to spend time with Lewis was an opportunity you took, escpeccialy given his busy schedule.

Lewis notices it the second you walk in, even if you don’t realise he’s looking. He’s lounging on the sofa with his laptop resting on his lap, reading something, probably reviewing data notes or one of the endless supply of emails he recieved, but the moment his eyes flick up and land on your necklace, all his focus slips away from him.

He closes the laptop slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, subtle and calm. The kind of smile that makes your chest ache with warmth and familiarity. Lewis' smiles had a way of making you feel whole.

“That’s for me?” he asks gently, nodding toward your necklace. His voice is quiet, curious. His gaze lingers on the number, just visible beneath the open collar of your shirt.

You glance down, fingers brushing over it self-consciously. “I thought it suited me,” you say, only half teasing.

He stands, putting the laptop on the coffee table infront of him, and crosses the room with unhurried ease.

One hand comes up to cradle the charm between his fingers, his thumb gliding over the number as though memorising it by touch.

“It suits you better than me,” he murmurs, a hint of joking in his tone, eyes lifting to yours. "I’m flattered.”

"Flattered?" you said, giggling slightly at his word choice.

"Well, yeah. A pretty girl is wearing my number, how else should I feel?" He lets the necklace fall back against your skin, then adds with a little smirk, “Might need to get something with your initials now. Y’know, to keep things balanced.”

You smirk, letting your hand rest on his chest. “What, like a bracelet? Property of...”

“Necklace. Tattoo. Your name embroidered on my socks... I’m not picky.” He shrugs and sighs dramatically, clearly enthralled by his own joke.

You lean into his embrace, shaking your head as he pulls you into a sweet kiss, his arms wrapping around you with familiar ease and comfort.

“You’re such a sap,” you murmured into his hoodie, resting your head on his chest as you speak.

“And you’re mine,” he said, grinning down at you, hand lingering on your lower back. “So I think we’re even.”

george russell

It’s a lazy Sunday morning spent at your usual breakfast spot. Just off a main road, the quiet atmosphere was the perfect place to unwind and relax on a slow morning. You were dressed casually, sunglasses pushed up on your head for look more than necessity, and your new favorite necklace catching the light and resting around your neck. The necklace, more than anything, you hoped he’d notice.

You slide into the booth across from him, pressing a kiss to his cheek first before sitting down, dropping your bag and stretching your arms out in front of you with a sleepy smile. You hadn't arrived together, George having to go to an extra early meeting and you prefering to sleep in on such a gorgeous morning. But it made it the perfect time to show off the new addition to your jewellery collection.

George doesn’t say anything at first, but you watch as his eyes widen slightly as he spots it. Instead of immediately reacting, he takes a slow moment to sip his coffee, watching you with that knowing look that makes your stomach flip.

Then, with a teasing smirk tugging at his lips, he tilts his head and says, “You’re really trying to make this obvious, huh?”

You glance across at him, shrugging and feigning confusion. “I don't know what you mean.”

He gestures toward your necklace with his half-finished coffee. “The whole ‘I’m madly in love with a certain F1 driver’ energy you’ve got going on with that necklace.”

You laugh, resting your chin on your upturned hand. “Maybe I just thought it looked cute. Favourite number. Totally nothing to do with you, sorry.”

“Mm,” he hums, matching your posture with his head on his own hand and leaning towards you slightly with a growing grin. “Or maybe you just wanted the world to know you’re taken.”

“Think it's working?”

“Oh, definitely,” he says, eyes gleaming and a light edge colouring his words. “But now I’m going to have to step up my game. Watch out. I might start wearing your initials. Embroidered. Everywhere. Just to make sure everyone knows I'm definitely off the market.”

You snort at his dramatics, but match his teasing tone. “George Russell, turning up to the paddock with my name monogrammed onto his fireproofs? Oh, the scandal!”

He grins, and laughs as he leans back in his chair. “You think I won’t?”

You roll your eyes and sigh, but you’re blushing now, and he can see it. He reaches across the table to tap your necklace gently with one finger and intertwined your hands with the other.

“It looks good on you,” he says, voice quieter now, sincere, like it’s a secret he doesn't want the rest of the room to hear. “I like knowing you carry a little piece of me around with you.”

Your smile softens, the moment suddenly feeling much softer than before. “I always do. Not just the necklace.”

He grins, like he’s won something more important than a race. “Still getting the monogrammed suit, though.”

“You’re such a menace.”

“A menace in love,” he says proudly, then flags down the waiter like nothing's happened.

taglist: @verogonewild

(comment if you would like to be added!)

[maxtermind]

YES POST THE SLUT STUFF PLS😩

F1!BOYFRIENDS HURTING YOU DURING SEX ACCIDENTALLY

( texts masterlist \ main masterlist \ let’s talk )

★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ★ : genre :: less smut or slut stuff; hurt/comfort mostly lol

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★ : a/n :: ignore the typos, comments, thoughts and reblogs are appreciated!

[f1amour]

「 ✦ F1 GRID — LETS GET PHYSICAL

˖ ࣪ 𖥔 navigation. | requests — open | main masterlist (coming soon)

drivers included | max verstappen, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri, daniel ricciardo, franco colapinto, lewis hamilton

description | drivers and their favorite kinks

content warnings | mature content ahead — 18+ only, minors do not interact

authors note | hope everyone enjoys reading this one! if you have any requests for drabbles or blurbs involving those i write for please send it in and i will try to get it out as soon as possible <3 *not spelled checked*

─────────────────────────

— 𝐌𝐀𝐗 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍 ¹

҉ PRAISE KINK !

— whether he praised you or you praised him; max verstappen was an absolute whore for praising

— both in public and behind closed doors he would take the praises only from you. being a three time world champion as many reminded him of his accomplishments he’d down play it. but you? oh he loved when you’d sing his praises

— “you did so great out there, maxie. no one does it like you.” praising him in public after a great race would look like that. behind closed doors was another story; “right there, max. fuck you’re doing so well keep going.” “only you know my body, no one compares”

— on the other hand max loved praising you and he was an absolute menace for it when he’d have you bent over the bed fucking you with his hands gripping your hair; “come on, baby. squeezing me so tight you love being handled like this, hmm?” “you’re doing so well for me, baby.” “such a good girl for me.”

҉ QUICKIES !

— max loved taking his time with you but with his busy schedule especially on race weekends he couldn’t give you enough time. however, he always made the most of the 10-20 minutes you had together on any occasion.

— whether it be 10 minutes before he’s gotta go out for the national anthem or 15 minutes before he is due to attend the press conference he would grab you and take you in any room that had a lock. “fuck that’s it, you’re doing so good for me baby.” “gonna have you cum three times before i gotta be out there in ten minutes. you like that?”

— 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐙 ⁵⁵

҉ HAIR PULLING KINK !

— the man has beautiful hair…how can he not have a hair pulling kink?

— carlos loved pulling your hair whether it was while you rode his cock or he was taking you from behind; he loved having his hands in your hair

— but it was when you pull his hair that really gets him going both intimately but whenever you’d be watching a movie or out with friends your hand would go to the nape of his neck and travel up to his hair giving it a soft tug

— between your legs carlos is eating you out both sloppily and hungrily, tongue against your aching core his fingers now at your entrance giving you extra pleasure when they’re stretching you out, “fuck. just like that carlos,” you tangle your fingers in his hair giving it a rough tug when he rubs his thumb on your clit

— every thrust his fingers would give your cunt and tongue giving your folds so much attention you’d tug his hair closer to your pussy if that was possible; “fuck, baby, do that again. harder.” “god, hermosa, gonna make me cum in my pants if you keep pulling my hair like that.” “right there, keep doing that princesa. wanna suffocate in your pussy.”

҉ DIRTY TALK !

— his native language being spanish played a role in his love for dirty talking he loved the reaction he’d get out of you when you’d hear him speaking to you in spanish

— morning, noon, night; carlos fucked you any moment he had some free time which was rare but on those occasions he did he make sure to speak his dirty thoughts of you: and to you

— “fuck, my good girl, chokin’ on my cock” “that’s it, hermosa. let them all hear whose fucking your tight pussy…the only man who makes you cum.” “te ves tan perfecta para mí de rodillas llena de mí. mi bella princesa.”

— 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐂 ¹⁶

҉ ORAL !

— charles loved having you on your knees mouth stuffed with his cock. your lips showing his tip some extra love with a few kisses after finishing in your mouth and you’d take him once again pulling him in your mouth again for another round.

— what he loved the most though? spending hours in between your thighs giving you multiple orgasms until you are begging him to stop (very rare to want him to stop)

҉ ROUGH SEX !

— despite seemingly carrying a calm demeanor around friends & family behind closed doors charles loved being rough with you in bed. especially after yet another week where ferrari fucks up his race he feels the best place to let out his stress and anger is on you. which you gladly took.

— rough and sloppy kisses you share entering his hotel room to his rough hands pushing you onto the bed and fucking you with his fingers until you’re squirting all over him and the bedsheets.

— your face pressed down on the mattress while he takes you from behind arching your back and yanking on your hair pulling you close to his chest he’d give you another rough thrush while whispering the most vulgar sentences to come out of his mouth.

— 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 ⁴

҉ COCKWARMING !

— sometimes being weeks apart from each other you wanted to feel as close as possible while catching up on what you’d miss. you’d get settled on his lap moaning at the feeling of him stretching you after being gone for so long. you’d get comfortable and you would both talk about what you had been up to the last few weeks

— streaming with max you’d make sure his camera was off before you climbed on his lap. he would be confused as to what you were doing but the moment you take his cock out of his briefs and sinking down on him he’d hold his moans in and grab your waist pulling you closer.

- turning his mic off he lets out a whine when you rock your hips against him, “fuck, baby, can’t do this right now i’m so close to winning.” you’d agree with him and tell him to finish the game you’ll just wait for him; still sitting on him with his cock deep inside you. safe to say he lost the game just to play again, enjoying the feeling of his cock resting inside you

҉ SHOWER SEX !

— lando loved it when he’d be showering and you’d join him halfway through giving him some extra attention that he desperately wanted. he loved the intimacy about it when you’d help rinse of the shampoo in his hair or how he’d glide the body gel all over your body

— you loved it when it was a post race win or podium and he’d drag you to the small bathroom in his drivers room and shove you against the shower wall giving your pussy some extra love while you pull on his hair before he would have his cock shoved deep in your aching cunt, getting some loud moans out of you which he’d cover up with a kiss

— 𝐋𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐎𝐍 ⁴⁴

҉ PHONE SEX !

— being a formula 1 driver was a demanding job which required lewis to travel almost all year long and you couldn’t always go along with him due to your job. you missed him all the time when he was gone but especially on the days when you were extra needy were the worst

— that’s why he’d stay on the phone with you all day despite his busy schedule. he’d have one airpod in while having to be in a meeting not listening to the less important subjects so he’d listen to you and what you were doing for the day

— but then on days where your vibrator wasn’t enough you’d call or facetime your boyfriend begging him to help you through your orgasm, it also helped that he had the most soothing voice that constantly brought you to tears when he’d have your face shoved on the mattress, ass pressed against him as he fucked you

— “oh…’m so close, lew” you’d whimper through the facetime call, your phone propped against your nightstand while you grind your aching cunt against a pillow. desperately needing more release your reach to rub your clit when lewis’ voice fills the phone, “i didn’t say you could do that, did i?” he questions, he was due to be in the media pen in 10 minutes but he wouldn’t let you take the easy way out to cum before he left

— “please, baby, need to cum please,” you beg lewis as your movements speed up. “don’t use your hand. keep fucking youself on my pillow, i’ll be home in a few days and take such good care of you. that’s it baby, be a good girl and cum for me.” his encouragement is more than enough to have you squeezing your breasts and nipples as your release spills all over the pillow

҉ MIRROR SEX !　

— you weren’t sure if it was you or lewis who decided adding a mirror to the ceiling of your bedroom was the best option for your sex life but either way you were two happy people

— you enjoyed watching lewis fucking you his eyes meeting your through the mirror; he loved having you bounce on his cock watching the way you threw your head back moans filling the room. he loved it so much he requested his drivers room to have a mirror on the ceiling as well. after many warnings not to they finally gave in and gave him what he (and you) wanted

— his hand around your throat with two fingers deep inside your pussy he’d whisper dirty thoughts into your ear, “you look so pretty for me like this. wanna see you cum for me, sweet girl. that’s it you’re squeezing my fingers so good,” you’d bite your lip trying to suppress your moans in the small room knowing anyone walking by could easily hear you

— 𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈 ⁸¹

҉ DRY HUMPING !　

— again, being a formula one driver was a demanding sport. a demanding sport that kept your sex life with oscar very low many, many, many times. so when you had the chance to feel a little bit closer to your boyfriend you took the chance.

— whether against the wall of his drivers room with your clothed pussy rubbing against his race suit or in bed on his lap before ha has to catch a flight to the next race; you were both absolutely infatuated with each other and dry humping

— drivers room; oscar would be leaned up against the wall while your hips grind against his thigh, “osc,” you whine as he moves your panties to the side rubbing your clit while you con the to fuck yourself on him, “shh, be a good girl for me and stay quiet. then after the race i’ll stuff you full of my cock all night.” his words have you biting down on his shoulder as you cum all over his thigh

҉ SQUIRTING !　

— he had discovered this one night while you both watched a movie, laying between his thighs your head pressed against his chest his hand trailed down to your shorts pulling them off with nothing else underneath he worked his fingers inside you. soon enough you had squirted all over his hand and bedsheets; a first for both of you

— that just started something inside oscar which was wanting to make you squirt any chance he got. you could be exhausted from work or a long flight but you’d let him have his way with you. at the end you’d be filling the room with sounds of pleasure as his fingers or cock fucked your tight cunt until he reached the exact spot that had you squirting all over him

— "so wet for me, and so fuckin' tight." "i can feel how close you are baby, gonna make a mess all over our sheets, hmm?" he praises you, his fingers curling deep inside you. his groans and your moans fill the room as you squirt all over his hand and sheets making a mess like he had said. pulling away from you he now plays between your thighs and smiles up at you, “time to clean this mess up.”

— 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 ⁴³

҉ DIRTY TALK !　

— you’ve seen franco in interviews he was a talker so it wasn’t a surprised he was a talker behind closed doors as well. he had a filthy mouth on him when it came to you and he never stopped praising you

— “eso es amor, apretándome tan bien. let me hear your pretty moans.” “cum all over my cock, amor. fuck, fuck—look so perfect for me.” “gonna let me fuck you against the door? gonna make sir everyone hears what a filthy whore you are.” you’d think by now you’d get tired of his constant yapping (sometimes you did) but when he fucked you? you loved hearing his voice the entire time

҉ ORAL !　

— the man was good with his tongue what more could you say? he was infatuated with having his tongue on your pussy for hours on end tasting how sweet you were. buried between your thighs as your hand stung on his hair, whines and moans escape your mouth begging him for more

— “franco, ‘m so close, right there,” you gasp feeling his tongue poking in your cunt as he devours you, “es todo princesa, déjalo ir por mí. mierda. sabes tan dulce.” you cum and he doesn’t let a drop escape his tongue as he licks you clean

— 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎 ³ [retired]

҉ THIGH RIDING !　

— the man had a tattooed thigh…how could you not want to ride it? it first started on a night out with friends enjoying the sunset at the beach when daniel placed you on his lap your hand traced circles on the tattoos that littered his thigh; one thing led to another and you snuck off to the car and he let your imaginations come to life

— at a club filled with loud music and dark lights you’d take advantage of the moment and grind yourself on his thigh enjoying the feeling, at home while he works on sending out some emails you’d keep him company with your core pressing against his thigh, anyplace and anywhere you were a menace for his thighs

— he loved it too, so much he’d started adding some more tattoos to his collection on his thighs which made you even more excited to ride him only to wait until he was healed to do so. you could ride his other thigh but something about fucking yourself on his tattooed thigh felt so so much more enthralling

— “you look so pretty like this, ridin' my thigh...makin' yourself cum.” “make yourself cum on my thigh right now, good girl. feels good, doesn't it?” his encouraging words bringing you to your third orgasm of the night just form riding his thigh, “come on, honey, gonna give me one more then i’ll fuck you for however long you want”

҉ FILMING !

— daniel loved having videos or pictures of the activities you got up to in the bedroom with each other. he loved watching the videos while he was away from you weeks on end. however, he loved it more whenever you got the chance to film each other especially for fun not because he’ll be gone for a few weeks and needed someone to fill the void

— daniel comfortably laying down between your thighs lapping at you like there’s no tomorrow, “danny, feel so good…oh,” you whine trying to hold the camera that was pointed at him steadily but you were so close. “that’s it baby, cum all over me you taste so fucking sweet. could never get enough of this,” he says only getting a second to breathe before he’s diving back between your thighs to bring you to your second orgasm of the night

— you loved the risk of having an album on your phones that were filled of videos and pictures of the two of you or sometimes of just one of you. you’d created a small album curated for daniel filled of pictures of you in lingerie or fully nude; the videos were another story. filled with you fucking yourself with your fingers, vibrator, a pillow; you made sure daniel was fulfilled for the weeks he wouldn’t have you

— daniel made a small photo album for you as well more so filled of the two of you, he knew how much you loved rewatching the videos of you two fucking. you loved the way he propped the camera against the nightstand and had you riding his cock until you begged him to let you cum or the time he fucked you in his drivers room facing the mirror on his door his hands on your breasts squeezing them while you rode him back against his chest holding onto the camera shakily and almost dropping it when he’d thrust up into your cunt

[kenniesf1]

what was that? | OP81

pairing: oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

summary: it's the 2025 monaco grand prix and yn leclerc finds out that oscar piastri is... an avid lorde fan???

yn.leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc, yourbff001, and 743,023 others

yn.leclerc she's in monaco ladies and gents! arthur can say he's not monegasque, but charlie and i know what's up :)

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user1 GUYS SHE'S GOING TO THE MONACO GRAND PRIX!!!!

user2 omg yn where have you been girl!

lando bro said she wasn't getting here 'til saturday smh

user3 LMAO she lied to lando 💀

yn.leclerc sybau and go kiss carlos or smth

carlossainz55 she's right lando, come home, the kids miss you

lando the meerkat?

charles_leclerc je ne veux pas que tu cries dans ma radio (i don't want you yelling in my radio)

yn.leclerc speak english 🤓

alexandrasaintmleux my favorite leclerc 💞 you look gorgeous

yn.leclerc ok stop talking to the mirror tf? ily

charles_leclerc share the love????

oscarpiastri photo creds???

user4 STOPPPP oscar sounds like a needy girlfriend

user5 have we ever even seen them speak

user1 no, she's taken (by me)

kimi.antonelli no, by me 🙃

yn.leclerc ANDREA KIMI GO DO YOUR HOMEWORK!

emmawatson beatiful!!!! liked by author

jackbenedwards lorde summer liked by author

charles_leclerc

liked by yn.leclerc, alexalbon, georgerussel63, and 1,203,923 others

charles_leclerc P2 in qualifiers. Not the result we wanted but we'll keep pushing. Forza Ferrari!

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yn.leclerc what was that? well, baby, what was that?

charles_leclerc don't call me baby creepo 😰

user6 i fear yn IS living lorde summer, jack edwards was so rights

oscarpiastri mdma in the back garden, blow our pupils up

yn.leclerc OSCAR JACK PIASTRI!!!! you're not coming to play, sir

user7 no way oscar is a lorde fan

user8 he def looked it up to impress yn 😭

arthur_leclerc i could've gotten p1 🤷

charles_leclerc the things i could say to you right now

pierregasly bro is lucky charles is pr trained

yn.leclerc pr? he hardly knows her

lando that made no sense

yn.leclerc your existence makes no sense kys

maxverstappen1 le curse is back

charles_leclerc BLOCKED ❌

oscarpiastri

liked by yn.leclerc, hattiepiastri, lando and 1,002,497 others

oscarpiastri Good start to the weekend. Excited for the race tomorrow. Thank you for the support!

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hattiepiastri you win at monaco or you're disowned

oscarpiastri only mum can do that?

nicolepiastri what hattie said

user9 HELPPPPPPPPP

charles_leclerc know your place tomorrow, son

oscarpiastri i can't lose my leo privileges

lando i look stupid

estebanocon tell us something new!!!

yn.leclerc wishing you luck! playing for a lot this weekend!

charles_leclerc 🤨

arthur_leclerc 🤨

user10 🤨

yukitsunoda 🤨

oscarpiastri You being here for Charles helped him last year. Maybe come to my garage and share that luck?

user11 oh he's good

charles_leclerc im boycotting you bitch

maxverstappen1 whole lot of lando...

deuxmoi posted a story!

deuxmoi Yn Leclerc has shown up to the 2025 Monaco Grand Prix wearing a McLaren dress and is currently in Oscar Piastri's garage

yn.leclerc

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, charlixcx, and 813,200,191 others

yn.leclerc CONGRATS TO MY BIG BROTHER ON P2 AT MONACO! it's always gonna be your city charlie!!! on a sadder note, i will never be speaking to lando norris again, evil bitch :) and i got this oceanic feeling visiting someone's garage (sorry, i'm still a scuderia ferrari girlie)

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ferrari we missed youuu liked by author

charles_leclerc monaco and my own sister betrayed me today

lewishamilton i'll be a shoulder to cry on mate

yn.leclerc hoes over bros

oscarpiastri excuse me

user12 IM FUCKING CRASHING OUT I CANT BREATH

user13 i can feel the hardlaunch, it's within reach

lando 😔

yn.leclerc pensive face emoji? hon, you should be WEEPING

user14 tell him, yn

oscarpiastri i caught that reference ms leclerc

yn.leclerc didn't throw it mr piastri

mclaren so glad to have you!

ferrari go away, your colors wash her out

francocolapinto um she should be in pink and blue and white and other alpine colors

alexalbon aesthetic!

yn.leclerc can you pay for my dinner as well as george's?

oscarpiastri yn

yn.leclerc RIGHT! never mind alex, take lily

alexalbon was planning on it 🫡

yn.leclerc posted a story!

yn.leclerc can we be boyfrien' girlfrien'?

oscarpiastri please

oscarpiastri i want more than a supercut, yn