#nr6 x female reader

[its-avalon-08]

I liked those song based fics!!! Can you do one about Nico Rosberg based on Love Again — Dua Lipa?

opened my heart again (nr6)

monaco, 2013. the air crackled with the electric anticipation of the grand prix. nico rosberg, steely-eyed in his mercedes cockpit, tried to ignore the familiar pang of loneliness. a year ago, a high-profile relationship with a model had ended in a blaze of betrayal. since then, nico had thrown himself into work, building a wall around his heart.

across the pit lane, amidst the flurry of activity in the red bull garage, stood a young woman, her sunshine-colored hair bouncing with uncontainable enthusiasm. this was y/n, a brilliant f1 engineer with a smile that could outshine the riviera sun. unlike most engineers, y/n wasn't afraid to chat with the drivers, her outgoing personality a stark contrast to the team's usual stoicism.

three months later, singapore grand prix

nico and y/n's paths kept crossing. they'd bump into each other at press conferences, share a laugh in the paddock, or find themselves seated next to each other during driver briefings. y/n, ever the extrovert, would pepper nico with questions about his car, his training, anything that piqued her curiosity. nico, initially guarded, found himself drawn to her genuine interest and infectious laughter.

i never thought i'd hear my heartbeat so loud

singapore, 2014. the post-race atmosphere crackled with champagne-fueled revelry and post-race dejection. nico, having finished a frustrating third, retreated to the mercedes hospitality area, a scowl etched on his face.

suddenly, a burst of sunshine entered the room in the form of y/n, a tray of cold drinks balanced precariously in her hands.

"hey, nico! congrats on the podium, even if it wasn't the top step," she said brightly, dodging a stray ice cube as a teammate reached for a drink.

nico grunted a response, not looking up from his phone. y/n, ever the optimist, persisted.

"seriously, though," she continued, setting the tray down, "your overtake on lewis around turn 11 was phenomenal. pure guts and precision."

nico finally looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. he eyed y/n warily.

"what do you want?" he said brusquely, "do you need something?"

y/n's smile faltered slightly, replaced by a flicker of confusion. "just complimenting you," she said, her voice losing some of its usual cheer.

"for publicity or what?" nico shot back, his voice laced with suspicion.

y/n's brow furrowed. "stop doubting things that happen to you, nico," she said, her voice firm but kind. "not everyone is trying to take advantage of you or something. sometimes, people just appreciate good driving or a good person."

nico stared at her, the harshness momentarily draining from his face. he hadn't expected such genuine warmth, especially from someone on the rival team. maybe, just maybe, y/n was right.

as the night wore on, the technical talk faded into comfortable silences and shared stories. nico found himself confiding in y/n about his past relationship, surprised at the ease with which the words flowed.

i can't believe there's something left in my chest anymore

"you deserve someone who appreciates you, nico," y/n said, her voice soft. "someone who sees beyond the trophies."

nico looked into her eyes, a flicker of something new igniting within him.

a few months later

abu dhabi, 2014. the desert sun beat down mercilessly on the yas marina circuit. nico and y/n found themselves side-by-side in the shade of a catering tent, seeking refuge between practice sessions.

"ugh," y/n sighed, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. "this heat is brutal. makes me crave something sweet."

nico, still untrusting of easy compliments, raised an eyebrow. "cupcake, perhaps?"

y/n's eyes widened. "oh my god, yes! especially red velvet with that perfect cream cheese frosting. the kind my grandma used to make."

nico, who wasn't one for sugary treats, simply smirked. "sounds like pure sugar overload."

y/n nudged him playfully. "hey, don't knock it till you try it!"

the next morning, the pre-race tension crackled in the air. nico, focused on securing pole position, barely registered the commotion near the red bull garage. then, a delivery boy emerged, a giant box precariously balanced in his arms.

"uh, miss engineer?" he said, approaching y/n. "delivery for vivienne?"

y/n, who went by her middle name at work for professional reasons, looked surprised. "actually, it's y/n, but thanks!"

she peered into the box, her jaw dropping open. inside, nestled in a bed of shredded paper, were a dozen perfect red velvet cupcakes, each topped with a swirl of decadent cream cheese frosting. a small, hand-written note rested on top.

y/n unfolded it, a blush creeping up her cheeks as she read the single sentence: "hope these satisfy your sweet tooth. -nr"

i used to think that i was made out of stone

sebastian vettel, leaning against the red bull car, let out a low whistle. "someone's got a secret admirer, vivienne," he teased, a sly grin spreading across his face.

y/n shot him a playful glare, her heart fluttering. this wasn't just a cupcake delivery. it was a sign, a sweet, delicious sign, that maybe, just maybe, nico was letting his guard down a little.

five month later, italian grand prix

their friendship had blossomed. they'd celebrate victories together, commiserate defeats, and steal moments for stolen conversations whenever their schedules allowed.

one balmy italian evening, after a thrilling race that saw nico finish second, y/n found him sitting on the pit wall, head buried in his hands.

"hey," she said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "tough luck out there, but you were amazing."

nico looked up, a flicker of despair in his eyes. "i'll never be good enough," he confessed. "not for the team, not for anyone."

y/n's heart ached for him. "nico," she said, her voice firm, "you're incredible. don't let anyone tell you differently." she sat beside him, their shoulders brushing. "and maybe..." she hesitated, then met his gaze, a blush creeping up her cheeks, "maybe you deserve to be happy again."

but goddamn, you got me in love again

the unspoken words hung heavy in the air. nico stared at her, his heart pounding against his ribs. in that moment, under the starlit italian sky, nico knew. he was falling for y/n, and the fear was a flimsy shield against the tide of his emotions.

budapest grand prix, 2016

budapest, 2016. the champagne had flowed freely on the podium, celebrating nico's dominant victory. now, the after-race party was in full swing, a blur of flashing lights and thumping music. nico, however, found himself drawn to a quieter corner where y/n stood, talking animatedly with a group of engineers.

he approached her, feeling a familiar knot of nerves twist in his stomach. "hey," he said, his voice barely audible over the music.

y/n turned, her smile lighting up her face like a beacon. "nico! congratulations again, you were incredible out there."

nico rubbed the back of his neck, a blush creeping up his cheeks. "thanks, but... well, the real accomplishment is you guys keeping this beast of a car running." he gestured vaguely at a passing red bull mechanic.

y/n chuckled. "we try our best, even with you drivers pushing them to the limit."

a comfortable silence settled between them for a moment, broken only by the pulsing music. nico cleared his throat, trying to formulate his next words.

"y/n," he began, his voice dropping to a low murmur, "i, uh... you're, like, really..." he trailed off, frustration bubbling up. how could he put into words the kaleidoscope of emotions she evoked in him? her intelligence, her humor, the way she lit up a room with her smile – it was all too much.

show me that heaven's right here, baby

before he could spiral further, y/n's hand gently touched his arm. her touch sent a jolt through him.

"nico," she said softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement, "you're rambling."

he groaned, burying his face in his hands. "this is hopeless, isn't it?"

y/n's laugh rang out, a sweet melody that cut through the noise of the party. she reached out again, this time taking his hand in hers. it was warm and soft, a stark contrast to the calloused grip of a steering wheel.

"where were you going with that, nico?" she asked, her voice laced with a playful challenge.

nico met her gaze, his heart pounding in his chest. "i was trying to say... well, i think you're amazing. kind, funny, brilliant..." he trailed off again, a helpless smile spreading across his face.

y/n squeezed his hand, her eyes twinkling. "and?"

nico closed the distance between them in one swift movement, his heart hammering against his ribs. before he could overthink it, he pressed his lips against hers. the kiss was soft and tentative at first, then deepened as y/n melted into him. the taste of champagne and something faintly sweet lingered between them.

when they finally pulled apart, breathless and slightly dazed, y/n's smile was wider than he'd ever seen. "maybe," she said, her voice husky, "you could have just started with that."

used to be afraid of love and what it might do but goddamn, you got me in love again

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well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!

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[delicateflappizzaplaid]

Nico Rosberg

#nr6

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[its-avalon-08]

Nico Rosberg x reader, age gap, she's at a GP. Jenson Button is her friend, and he introduced Nico with a "This is Britney!"

its britney bitch (nr6)

anon note : I forgot to clarify, about Nico x musician reader, the age gap she could be just 3-5 years younger than him....

The roar of the engines vibrated through your chest as you stood beside Jenson in the Monaco paddock. The air crackled with a mix of nervous energy and adrenaline, a feeling you were very familiar with despite not being the one behind the wheel. Jenson, your best friend since your teenage days in the McLaren Young Driver Programme, was gearing up for another shot at the podium.

"Alright (Y/N), ready for some action?" Jenson grinned, his usual infectious enthusiasm washing over you.

"Always," you replied, returning the smile. You weren't a driver yourself, but music was your track, and the high-octane world of Formula One was your melody. You were here not just to support Jenson, but also to perform at the after-race party.

Suddenly, Jenson nudged you with his elbow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Speaking of action, check out this driver I want you to meet." He turned towards a tall blonde man walking towards them, his face etched with a determined focus.

"Hey Jenson," the man greeted, his voice surprisingly melodic for someone who seemed to live life in the fast lane.

"Nico, this is (Y/N)," Jenson said, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "(Y/N), this is... Britney."

You blinked, thrown for a loop. Britney? A nickname for a championship contender like Nico Rosberg? Before you could question it, Jenson winked. You realised it was a reference to the good-natured paddock ribbing Nico often faced about his supposedly "pop star-ish" looks.

Nico, catching your surprised expression, chuckled, a hint of amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Jenson's a comedian, don't mind him. I'm Nico." He extended a hand towards you, and you took it, surprised by the warmth that spread through your palm.

"Nice to meet you, Nico," you replied, your voice a touch breathless. There was something undeniably captivating about him, an aura of quiet intensity that hummed beneath the surface.

The conversation flowed easily, despite the age gap of four years between you. You discovered a shared passion for electronic music, Nico confessing a secret love for your latest album. He listened intently as you spoke about your upcoming performance, his blue eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

The playful banter between you and Nico was undeniable. You teased him about his "Britney" nickname, and he countered with a playful jab about your supposed rockstar lifestyle. The air crackled with a current that had nothing to do with the high-powered engines surrounding you.

By the time Jenson was called away for a pre-race briefing, you and Nico were lost in your own conversation, oblivious to the world around you. As you laughed at one of his witty remarks, a thrill shot through you. It was clear this wasn't just a casual paddock meet-and-greet; there was a spark, an undeniable connection.

The sound of roaring engines jolted you back to reality. The race was about to begin. You squeezed Nico's arm playfully. "Go get 'em, champ," you said, a teasing lilt in your voice.

Nico's smile widened, the amusement in his eyes deepening. "I will," he promised, his voice a low rumble. "But you better be ready to celebrate after I win. Maybe you can give me a private concert later?"

A blush crept up your cheeks, and you couldn't help but return the flirt. "We'll see how you perform, Nico Rosberg, or should I say Britney?"

The starting lights went out, and the roar of the crowd drowned out your playful banter. But as you watched Nico storm off to the grid, his focused expression masking the amusement you'd sparked in his eyes, you knew this was just the beginning of your story. The race might have been about speed, but the connection you'd felt with Nico Rosberg promised a different kind of exhilarating ride.

time skip

Weeks after the Monaco Grand Prix, the afterglow of your first meeting with Nico lingered. You exchanged playful texts, Nico inquiring about upcoming gigs and you sending him interview snippets praising his driving prowess. Finally, a free weekend between races offered the perfect opportunity to bridge the gap between the roar of the racetrack and the rhythmic pulse of your music.

Nico, ever the thrill-seeker, suggested a visit to his home track in Germany. Intrigued by the world that fueled his passion, you readily agreed. Stepping into the sterile white paddock felt like entering a different universe. The air hummed with the precise efficiency of a well-oiled machine, a stark contrast to the electric chaos of your backstage routine.

Nico, in his element, gave you a guided tour. He pointed out the meticulous engineering of his car, explaining the intricate dance between driver and machine that achieved such heart-stopping speeds. You listened with rapt attention, his technical jargon punctuated by bursts of laughter as you teased him about his "need for speed" addiction.

Later, as you sat by the pit lane, the setting sun casting an orange glow over the track, Nico's demeanor softened. He confessed the immense pressure that came with being a driver, the constant scrutiny, the relentless pursuit of victory. You, in turn, shared the challenges of the music industry, the fleeting fame, the vulnerability of pouring your soul into every song.

Suddenly, the differences between your worlds seemed to melt away. You both understood the exhilarating pressure of performing, the constant push to be the best, the vulnerability of putting your heart on display for the world to see. A comfortable silence settled between you, a shared understanding blooming beneath the vast, star-studded sky.

The evening continued at a cozy restaurant tucked away in a nearby town. You played him snippets of your new music on your phone, the raw emotion in your voice resonating with him. He, in turn, shared stories from the road, the camaraderie with his team, the adrenaline rush of a perfectly executed race. The conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and stolen glances that spoke volumes.

As the night drew to a close, standing outside his hotel, a comfortable silence settled. Neither of you wanted the night to end. Tentatively, Nico reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The touch sent shivers down your spine. He leaned in slowly, his eyes searching yours.

"This," he murmured, his voice husky, "might be riskier than any race I've ever driven."

You met him halfway, the kiss a delicious mix of excitement and newfound connection. The world of Formula One and the world of music might seem like polar opposites, but in that moment, under the soft glow of the streetlights, they felt like two sides of the same coin - a thrilling pursuit of passion, fueled by a connection that promised to be as exhilarating as the fastest race.

[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) p12

chapter 12: did i scare you?

warnings - mentions of crash

series masterlist

The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room pierced through Y/N's foggy consciousness. A dull ache throbbed in her head and the scratchy sheets felt like sandpaper against her skin. Disoriented, she blinked, her vision gradually clearing until it landed on a familiar figure slumped in a chair by her bedside.

It was Nico. His head was buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Y/N croaked out his name, her voice a mere rasp.

Nico's head snapped up, his face etched with worry. Relief flooded his features as he scrambled to her side. "Y/N! Du bist endlich wach! Gott sei Dank! Was hast du nur gedacht?!Hitzeerschlag mitten im Rennen? Du bist doch keine Maschine!" [You're finally awake! Thank God! What were you thinking?! Heatstroke in the middle of the race? You're not a machine!]

The torrent of German washed over Y/N, her head swimming with the effort to understand. Nico, realizing his outburst, took a deep breath to compose himself.

"We were so worried," he continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I saw my whole life flash before my eyes. I couldn't breathe, it all stopped and...when they pulled you from the wreckage and when he pulled you up… I thought…" He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Y/N squeezed his hand weakly. "Nico I'm so sorry, I thought I could do it. I promise I wasn't trying to show off or prove anything. I lost control," her voice broke and Nico pulled her into a hug as she whispered, "Who… who pulled me out?" she asked, a tremor in her voice.

Nico hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering. "He did. Lewis did," he finally said.

A heavy silence descended upon the room. Y/N simply stared at him, processing the information.

"Why?" she finally managed, her voice barely a whisper.

Nico reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. On the screen, a video played. It was a clip from the onboard camera in Lewis's car, showing him abandoning his own race and sprinting towards the flames that engulfed hers. The audio picked up his voice, a low growl mixed with urgency.

"Not losing another Rosberg," it crackled. "Not again."

The video ended, and a heavy silence filled the room. Y/N's eyes met Nico's, a thousand unspoken questions swirling within them.

Just then, the door creaked open, and Lewis walked in. He looked exhausted, dark circles etched under his eyes, a bouquet of lilies clutched in his hand. He stopped short at the sight of Y/N awake, relief washing over his features.

He looked hesitant, his gaze flicking between Y/N and Nico. "Y/N," he said softly. "I… I'm glad you're awake."

Y/N stared at him, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The heat of the inferno, the terrifying crash, Lewis's daring rescue, the unspoken words in the video… it all intertwined into a confusing knot.

Nico cleared his throat, his voice regaining its usual gruffness. "We'll leave you two to talk."

With a curt nod towards Lewis, he exited the room, leaving them alone for the first time since the accident.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions and a newfound sense of… something. Y/N didn't know what it was, but she knew this was just the beginning of a conversation that would change everything.

Lewis hesitated for a moment, then placed the flowers on the bedside table. "Y/N," he began, his voice hoarse. "I… I'm happy to see you're okay. I was so scared."

Y/N studied him, her gaze filled with a newfound understanding. "Why did you do it, Lewis?" she asked softly. "Risk your own life to pull me out?"

He looked away, then back at her, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and determination. "I couldn't just stand there and watch," he confessed. "Not again. Not after…"

He trailed off, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Y/N reached out, her hand gently touching his arm. "Nico told me what you said," she whispered.

Lewis flinched, shame coloring his cheeks. "I… I didn't mean it like that. It just… it brought back a lot of memories," he took a deep breath before continuing, "I remembered your crash in Monza in F2. They way you spun out of control when Liam crashed into you. I could hear your panicked radio message and the way you were in so much pain after the crash. The blood, the broken toes. And I didn't each get in touch after that. I couldn't let that be the way I ended it this time. I couldn't lose you again." He finished, tears glistening in his eyes.

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their past and the vulnerability of the present hanging between them. Y/N started, "Lewis when I saw your face pull me out, I shut my eyes. Because I knew that I was going to be fine. I knew that I wasn't going to die and nothing was going hurt me, because you were there. You may not agree with me Lew, but you are one of the only people who know me inside and out. At the end of the day, that is all that matters. So thank you for today and I..I owe you one forever" Y/N finished while wincing a bit as she moved.

Finally, Lewis spoke again, his voice barely a whisper.

"Y/N," he said, his eyes pleading. "Can we… can we try to be friends again?"

Y/N's heart ached for the lost years, for the easy camaraderie they once shared. She looked at Lewis, a flicker of hope igniting in her eyes. "We can try," she said, a tentative smile gracing her lips. "Maybe it's time we both let go of the past."

Lewis's face broke into a relieved smile, a genuine expression that warmed Y/N from the inside out. Perhaps, amidst the heat of the race and the terror of the crash, a seed of reconciliation had been planted. The road ahead might be long and winding, but for the first time in years, both Lewis and Y/N dared to hope for a future where friendship could bloom once more.

credits for gif - @lewishamiltongifs

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 , @xoscar03 , @torossosebs , @jajouska , @lindsayjoy444 , @barcelonaloverf1life , @charli123456789, @heyheyheyggg

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[delicateflappizzaplaid]

• #nr6

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