#andreas x reader

[cheftsunoda]

Hiii, I had this idea for Kimi where the reader is the youngest Leclerc, 18, but the Leclercs don't see her, they ignore her. Still, she's been dating Kimi for like a year (she moved to Italy when she was younger with her godparents or something), and I was wondering if you can make it like a 2-3 parts??

he put me first — ka12

smau + blurbs

kimi antonelli x !estranged leclerc sister reader

yn always fell on the back burner for her family, never truly seen. her father was the only one who ever made her feel like she mattered. when he passed, the distance between her and her siblings—charles, arthur, lorenzo—only grew wider. she felt more like a shadow than a sister. desperate to escape the weight of monaco and the name that never really felt like hers, she left for italy with nothing but a suitcase and a tearful phone call to her godparents. that was five years ago.

a year into her new life in bologna, she met a boy. kimi antonelli—soft-spoken, kind-eyed, and utterly unlike anyone she’d ever known. they were just kids when they met, but something about him felt like home. they’ve been inseparable ever since. now, five years later, both 18 years old, yn and kimi have been together for three years. he’s the only person who’s ever truly seen her. but everything changes when kimi is offered a spot in formula 1. because standing on that grid? is her brother. and kimi has no idea who she really is.

(a/n) : amazing idea anon! part two is already finished and will be posted in a few hours. i wasn’t sure if you wanted a happy or sad ending so i wrote both :)

fc : darianka on ig

part two here

—

5 years ago…(Before YN privates her instagram and goes radio silent.) (age 13 1/2)

yn_leclerc

57,089 likes.

yn_leclerc : au revoir pour toujours (goodbye forever)

—

username00 : hope this poor girl finds peace wherever she ends up

username15 : her family never deserved her truly and she must be so upset about the passing of her father

username20 : is she leaving monaco fully?

username17 : is this leclerc’s little sister??

username10 : yes

username17 : starting his f1 debut with family drama yikessss

username50 : grief is hard especially when you don’t have a good support system. we love you, yn.

liked by yn_leclerc

username11 : y’all act like this is so out of left field when none of the leclerc’s acknowledge her publicly and charles was legit asked about his family in an interview and said he had ‘two brothers’. I hope this poor girl heals.

username22 : the poor thing just lost her father a year ago and has been living in agony ever since. she seemed like she had no one to lean on.

—

yn_leclerc has unfollowed charles_leclerc

yn_leclerc has unfollowed arthur_leclerc

yn_leclerc has unfollowed lorenzotl

yn_leclerc has unfollowed leclerc_pascale

yn_leclerc has made her account private.

yn_leclerc is now its_yn on instagram.

—

3 months later

charles_leclerc has requested to follow you.

Block? Account is now blocked.

—

The house was quiet. Too quiet. No footsteps in the hallway. No one calling my name. Just the ticking of the clock above the kitchen sink and the sound of my own breath as I stood by the door, suitcase in hand, trying not to shake. I looked around one last time. The living room still had the blanket folded the way Papa used to do it. There were photos of us smiling—when I was younger, when I thought we were happy, before the silence swallowed everything after he was gone.

No one had come to stop me. Not Charles, not Arthur, not Lorenzo. I don’t even know if they noticed I was leaving. Or maybe they did and just thought I’d come back like the youngest sibling who didn’t know any better. But this time is much different.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. A message from my godmother: “We’ll be at the airport in Bologna when you land, darling. We’re so glad you called.”

That was the only text I’d gotten all day. The car ride to the airport was a blur—buildings passing by like ghosts, my reflection in the window looking pale and unfamiliar. I clutched Papa’s old scarf the entire ride, fingers curled tight around the soft wool, as if holding on to it meant I wasn’t fully leaving him behind. When I reached my gate, I felt something shift. Not relief. Not excitement. Just this aching hollow where my home used to be. Boarding was called. I stood. Walked. Didn’t look back.

As I sat by the window and the plane began to taxi down the runway, I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. The tears came quietly, without a warning—just like the grief did. Just like the loneliness that had made a home inside me the day they stopped looking at me the way he used to.

I pressed my forehead to the cold glass and whispered, “au revoir, Papa.”

And I left. Forever. Or so I thought.

—

The air in Bologna was different. Warmer, softer, like it wasn’t trying to weigh me down. The sun stretched low across the sky as I stepped out of the airport, suitcase dragging behind me, heart heavier than anything I was carrying.

My godmother spotted me first. She didn’t say anything right away—just pulled me into a hug, the kind of hug that said I know you’re not ready to talk, but I’m here when you are. I clung to her like I was drowning.

The drive to their home was quiet. The roads curved through terracotta buildings and narrow alleys lined with vines and shutters and chipped paint that somehow looked like art. Everything felt old, but in a comforting way. Like maybe it had survived too much and was still standing anyway.

Their house was small and warm and smelled like garlic and old books. My room overlooked a garden with a lemon tree and chipped flower pots and two cats who seemed entirely uninterested in my arrival.

I set my suitcase down and sat on the edge of the bed. Everything was quiet again—but this time, it didn’t feel suffocating. Just… unfamiliar. I checked my phone. Nothing. I told myself it was the time difference. That maybe Charles was racing. That Arthur was busy with training. That Lorenzo had work. That someone—anyone—was thinking about me. But the silence didn’t change.

That first night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept staring at the screen, refreshing my messages. Waiting. Hoping. A stupid part of me thought I’d hear a knock at the door. That someone would get on a plane. That I’d wake up to a missed call or a message that said “Come home.”

But it never came. And deep down, I already knew it wouldn’t.

So I turned off my phone. Slipped under the unfamiliar sheets. And let the sound of Bologna—distant voices, the creak of old floorboards, a cat meowing in the courtyard—slowly lull me into something close to peace.

For the first time in a long time… I didn’t feel like a burden. Just a girl with a second chance.

—

I didn’t want to go. My godfather insisted I needed “fresh air and new faces.” I would’ve preferred to stay hidden in my room, curled up with a book or pretending I wasn’t still checking my phone every hour. But he was persistent in the gentle way only he could be — and before I knew it, I was being walked down the stone path to a small karting track just outside the city.

It smelled like rubber and oil and sun-warmed concrete. I hated it immediately. It reminded me of home — not the home I was trying to forget, but the one I couldn’t stop missing. There were a few kids scattered around, helmets under their arms, laughing and comparing lap times. I hovered awkwardly near the fence, hands in my sleeves, trying not to make eye contact. That’s when I saw him.

He wasn’t loud like the others. He was off to the side, squatting next to a kart with grease on his fingers and a serious look on his face. Blue eyes narrowed in concentration, curls messy under the weight of the sun. He glanced up at me. Just once. And then again — longer this time. Not in a curious, who’s the new girl kind of way. But softer. Like he already knew I didn’t want to be there. He wiped his hands on his suit and walked over, quiet steps across the pavement.

“You don’t like racing?” he asked, his Italian smooth but slow. Like he was trying not to scare me off.

I shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

He nodded like he understood more than he should for a boy his age. “I don’t like people watching me when I drive.”

I blinked. “Aren’t you supposed to be used to that?”

He shrugged back. “I race better when no one’s expecting anything from me.”

I looked at him then — really looked. And for the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel like I was about to cry.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Kimi,” he said simply. “You?”

“YN.”

He smiled, just barely. “You look like you needed someone to talk to.”

I didn’t say anything. But I stayed. And so did he. We sat by the fence for the rest of the afternoon — not saying much, just watching the karts fly by. He offered me half of his water bottle and didn’t ask why my eyes looked red or why I flinched every time my phone buzzed. He just… stayed. And that was enough.

—

a few months later

His room always felt lived in. Not messy, just… honest. Trophies tucked into corners like he forgot to show them off, books stacked sideways on a shelf, a blanket half-hanging off the bed from when we’d watched a movie the night before and fallen asleep mid-scene. I was sitting cross-legged on the floor, picking at the frayed end of the rug. Kimi lay on his stomach across the bed, chin resting on his arm, eyes lazily watching me in that calm, patient way of his.

“Do you ever miss home?” he asked quietly, out of nowhere.

I froze for a second. Then shrugged, trying to play it off. “Not really.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound true.”

I didn’t answer. He didn’t push. Just waited, the silence stretching softly between us, like it always did when he sensed I had something I was trying not to say.

“I used to think it was normal,” I said finally. “To feel invisible.”

His expression didn’t change, but he sat up, like my voice had shifted something.

“They were busy. All the time. With important things. Big things. I was just… there. A shadow in the background. Quiet, easy to forget.” My fingers curled around the edge of the rug. “The only one who really noticed me was my dad.”

Kimi’s brows furrowed slightly. Still quiet.

“He made me feel like I wasn’t just an accident. He remembered things, small things. He showed up. He listened. And then… he was gone.” My throat tightened. “After that, it was like I stopped existing to them.”

I could feel my eyes sting but I didn’t let the tears fall. Not yet.

“I kept waiting for someone to knock on my door. To ask if I was okay. To notice I was breaking. But no one did. So I left.”

Kimi didn’t say a word. Just leaned down and passed me one of his racing gloves like it was a stress ball. I took it without thinking, gripping it tightly in my hands.

“I thought they’d message. Call. Ask me to come back. But they didn’t.” My voice cracked, just once. “They never did.”

A long beat passed. And then he said softly, “They don’t deserve you.”

I looked up at him, startled.

“I mean it,” he said, eyes steady and a little sad. “Whoever—wherever they are… they don’t deserve you.”

And that was the thing about Kimi. He never needed all the details to understand exactly what I meant. He slid off the bed and sat beside me on the floor, shoulder to shoulder. He didn’t say I’m sorry, or It’ll get better, or You should call them. He just sat there — present, quiet, and unwavering. For the first time in a long time, I felt like someone had chosen me. Not because of a name, or a title, or an obligation. Just… me.

—

The days had started feeling softer. Lighter. I wasn’t exactly happy — not yet — but I was starting to breathe again. I saw Kimi almost every day. We didn’t always talk much, but it didn’t matter. There was comfort in his silence. In the way he didn’t ask questions I wasn’t ready to answer. In the way he made space for me without trying to fix me. That night, it was raining. Not a thunderstorm — just a steady, quiet drizzle. We’d been watching a movie on the old TV in his living room, but we both lost interest halfway through. Now we were just sitting in front of the window, side by side on the floor, watching raindrops slide down the glass. His shoulder brushed mine. Not on purpose. Not entirely on accident either.

“You seem… lighter lately,” he said after a long stretch of quiet.

I looked down at my hands. “I guess I am.”

He nodded like he already knew that. Like he could feel it in the way I laughed a little easier. Like he saw the part of me that was slowly, finally, healing. I glanced at him. His curls were damp from earlier, still soft and sticking to his forehead. He had that look again — thoughtful, half-serious, like he was about to say something important but didn’t know how.

“Do you ever think about…” I started, then stopped.

He tilted his head. “About what?”

I swallowed. “Us.”

There was a pause, long enough that I thought maybe I’d ruined everything.

“All the time.”

My breath caught. He looked at me — really looked at me. “But I didn’t want to push. I didn’t know if you were ready.”

I blinked hard, my throat tightening. “I don’t know if I am. Not really. But I want to be. With you.”

He reached out slowly, giving me the space to move back. I didn’t. His fingers brushed mine, then threaded through them like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then, gently — so gently I almost thought I imagined it — he leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t fireworks or heat or any of the things I thought a first kiss had to be. It was soft. Slow. Careful. It was safe.

When we pulled apart, he didn’t say anything right away. Just rested his forehead against mine and whispered, “You don’t have to run anymore.”

And for the first time in years, I believed that.

—

3 years ago (private IG) (age 15)

its_yn

liked by kimi.antonelli and 428 others.

its_yn : so proud of my boy <3

—

view 25 comments.

kimi.antonelli : mia bella regazza. ti amo così tanto ❤️ (my pretty girl. love you so much)

liked by its_yn

its_yn : je t’aime ma chérie

yourbff : so cute 😊

liked by its_yn

username22 : so she is missing for two years and pops back up with some random prema guy. hm

username17 : let her be. its clear they didn’t care for her. she has a new life.

liked by its_yn

username8 : she has grown so much in just two years, beautiful girl.

liked by its_yn

—

3 years ago (Age 15)

The paddock was buzzing with energy. People rushing around, shouting in Italian, cameras flashing. I stayed close to Kimi’s side, his hand occasionally brushing mine, grounding me. He introduced me to a few mechanics and an engineer, but I barely registered their names. My stomach was already tight. Then I saw him. It was just a glimpse — the back of his head at first, the familiar tilt of his shoulders as he laughed with someone near the Prema hospitality area. My heart stopped. Arthur.

I hadn’t seen him in two years. I didn’t even know he was racing for Prema now. My eyes locked onto him like a ghost had walked into the room. He hadn’t changed much. Taller, maybe. Sharper around the edges. But still him. He turned a little — not toward me, just enough for me to catch his profile — and I froze. My breath vanished. My chest started to cave in. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I turned sharply and pushed through the crowd, barely hearing Kimi call after me.

I found a quiet spot behind one of the team trucks, crouched down and pressed my hands over my mouth to muffle the sound of my breathing. Too fast. Too loud. I didn’t know if it was fear or guilt or some horrible mix of both, but the world was spinning.

A few minutes passed before I heard footsteps approach — soft, careful ones. Kimi didn’t say anything. He just sat beside me on the concrete, close but not touching.

After a moment, he offered me his water bottle and looked at me gently. “You don’t have to tell me,” he said. “But I’m here if you ever want to.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. Not because I was sad — but because he never asked for more than I could give. Never pushed. Never demanded an explanation or a name. He just waited.

“I didn’t know that someone I used to know would be here,” I whispered after a long while.

Kimi nodded once. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

I wiped my face on my sleeve and stared down at my hands. “I thought I was far enough away. That I could breathe here.”

“You still can,” he said, soft but firm. “You’re safe. I promise.”

He wrapped me into him and pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head softly humming into my ear.

—

I hadn’t planned on staying.

After seeing Arthur, every instinct in my body told me to disappear — to slip away before he could look up and really see me. But then Kimi found me behind the truck and told me quietly, “My family’s here. Come sit with them, yeah? I think you need them today.”

He was right.

So now I sat in the Prema grandstand with Kimi’s little sister curled up beside me, legs swinging, playing with the bracelets on my wrist. His mother had tucked a handkerchief into my palm and told me, “You look pale, sweetheart. You need sugar,” before pressing a warm piece of cake into my hand from her bag.

They always treated me like I belonged — like I wasn’t this strange, fractured thing still learning how to be whole. Kimi’s father stood beside us, arms crossed, watching the track like a general watching his son go to war. The cars screamed past us in blurs of color, and every time Kimi’s flashed by, his sister would squeal and clap, and I couldn’t help but smile. Even through the noise, the nerves, the ache in my chest — I smiled. Until I saw the flash of red out of the corner of my eye. Arthur. He was walking along the lower row, near the barricades, clearly heading toward the engineers and team leads. A pass swung around his neck. He hadn’t noticed me — yet — but the sight of him this close sent a bolt of ice straight through my chest. I sat up straighter, turned my head slightly, trying to hide without drawing attention. My breathing quickened. Kimi’s father noticed instantly. He didn’t say anything. Just looked down at me for a half-second, eyes sharp and knowing, before taking a small step forward and positioning himself directly in front of me — calm, casual, like it was coincidence.

But I knew it wasn’t. He stood just enough in Arthur’s line of sight to shield me completely. He didn’t even glance back. Just crossed his arms and watched the race again like nothing was wrong. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. Not from fear this time — but from something deeper. Something I hadn’t let myself feel in a long time. Protected. Accepted.

The little girl beside me leaned into my shoulder and said, “Papa says Kimi drives best when you’re watching.”

I blinked fast and gave her a watery smile. “I think so too.”

Arthur passed by without noticing me. And I exhaled. Kimi’s father gave the smallest nod without looking back — a silent I’ve got you. And for the first time since I ran away from my old life, I didn’t feel like I was running anymore.

—

present day

The Antonelli kitchen felt like the safest place in the world. It smelled like basil, fresh dough, and melted cheese. Kimi’s mom was humming as she shaped dough into little hearts, laughing every time her kimi threw flour in the air like confetti. His dad was outside with the grill, pretending to be a world-renowned chef. Maggie was sat on the couch on her iPad, picking out what she thought I should wear on my first magazine cover. And I was leaned against the counter next to Kimi, our elbows brushing, my cheeks still warm from all the attention. They were celebrating me. Me — the girl who once ran away in silence. Me— the girl who was just picked up by one of the biggest model agencies in the world.

“Model status suits you,” Kimi teased, reaching over to flick a piece of mozzarella off my shirt. “Soon you’ll be too cool to sit at my kitchen table.”

I snorted. “Right, because Vogue’s dying for a girl who cries watching dog videos and can’t walk in heels.”

He smirked. “That’s exactly your charm.”

I didn’t respond — not out loud. Just looked at him the way I always did when I didn’t have the words to say thank you for staying. For loving me when I couldn’t love myself. His phone buzzed on the counter. Once. Twice. Then nonstop.

Kimi’s dad poked his head through the back door. “Tesoro, your phone’s vibrating like it owes someone money.”

Kimi chuckled, swiping it up and answering casually.

“Ciao, Kimi speaking…”

Then came the pause. I watched it happen in slow motion — the shift in his voice, his posture, the disbelief spreading across his face like sunlight cracking through clouds.

“Wait—really?” he said, straighter now. “Like… official? For this season?”

The phone slipped from his ear a moment. He looked at me — stunned. Breathless. And then he laughed. Just once. A sharp, stunned sound.

“They want me. Formula 1. I’m in.”

The room exploded. His mom gasped, then started crying. His sister squealed so loud the dog barked. His dad came rushing in, hugging them both, eyes glassy with pride. Kimi turned toward me, beaming, his arms already opening like they always did when the world became too much. And I stepped into them — because I loved him, and he had worked for this his whole life, and nothing in the world could’ve made me prouder.

But behind my smile, a storm was brewing. F1 meant exposure. Paddocks. Media. Faces from a past I’d hidden like a wound. It meant Charles. It meant the life I left behind — the life I never wanted to explain — was about to come crashing into the one I’d built with Kimi. He pulled back slightly, still grinning, forehead pressed to mine. “Can you believe it?”

I nodded. Swallowed the lump in my throat. “Of course I can.”

But deep down, I wasn’t sure who I was more afraid of facing — the brothers I’d run from…Or the boy I loved who still didn’t know.

—

twitter!

f1gossipgirls : Let’s get to know our newest rookie— Kimi Antonelli. It was just announced that the 18 year old will be taking Lewis Hamilton’s (big shoes to fill) spot at Mercedes. Born and raised in Bologna, Kimi is the son of racing driver, Marci Antonelli. He has had back to back Direct-Driver European Championships and he won his first title in 2022 F4 Championship with Prema racing. He has been a member of the Mercedes Junior team since 2019. Now— we know what you are all thinking ladies. Does he have a girlfriend? Are we getting a new wag? Short answer being, yes— he does have a girlfriend. 18 year old, YN, who just recently signed with one of the world’s biggest modeling agencies and we do have to say…she is quite gorgeous. Her once-private Instagram account recently went public — and fans immediately noticed Kimi appearing in multiple soft, cozy photos going back years. No tags. No captions. Just vibes. She has also appeared on Kimi’s account many many times. However— F1 fans are clocking something. She looks familiar— with some insisting they’ve seen her around the paddock long before she ever appeared on Kimi’s feed. Let us know what you think below!

view 120,090 comments.

username00 : is this the YN?? like the one we all know.

username20 : WAIT. am i insane or does she look like she could be a leclerc??

username17 : because she is

username20 : huh?

username17 : the leclerc’s have always had a little sister— she was just always left behind. she disappeared shortly after their dad died. guess this is where she was

username15 : my friend is one of the people that still had access to her instagram while it was private and before she deleted all the family stuff. it is most definitely the same yn.

username000 : OMG OMG yn return to the paddock was not on my 2025 bingo card

username7 : this is the drama i needed this season to open with YES MAMA

username11 : wow she has grown up so much. she is stunning. definitely can see those leclerc genes

username0 : her and kimi are so cute omg. they’ve been together since they were 15

this tweet has reached 500k retweets.

—

third person point of view

It was a quiet evening in the Leclerc apartment. The windows were cracked open, letting in the soft hum of the sea below, and the TV played old F2 highlights that neither Charles nor Arthur were really watching. The off-season had given them rare downtime — but lately, neither of them had really known what to do with it.

Arthur was half-scrolling through Instagram, letting the silence settle between them. Then he stopped. His thumb hovered over the screen. His body went still.

“Charles,” he said, voice tight.

Charles didn’t look up. “What?”

“No—Charles. Look.”

Arthur turned the phone toward him. It was a post from a well-known F1 gossip page. The caption wasn’t what caught Charles’s attention, though. It was the photos — grainy at first, then clearer, softer. A girl in a sun-drenched field. On a balcony. Sitting next to Kimi Antonelli, smiling like the world wasn’t heavy anymore. Her smile. Her face. It couldn’t be. But it was.

His breath caught. “No…”

“It’s her,” Arthur whispered. “It’s YN.”

They both stared. It had been five years. Five years since she’d vanished overnight with nothing but a vague message and a suitcase. Five years since they’d called her phone, left angry voicemails, waited by the door. Five years without their little sister. And now here she was.

Not a girl anymore. Not the quiet, overlooked youngest who used to sit at the end of the dinner table, trying not to take up space. She looked like a woman now. Confident. Radiant. Her curls were longer, darker. Her cheekbones sharper. Her eyes… the same, but older. Like they’d seen more than any eighteen-year-old ever should have. Charles swallowed hard, eyes locked on the screen.

“She’s stunning,” he murmured, almost like the words had escaped him before he realized he said them.

Arthur didn’t respond right away. His throat was tight. “She looks… happy.”

Charles nodded slowly. “Yeah. She does.”

Another beat passed.

“She went public,” Arthur added. “Her account. It’s not private anymore. That wasn’t an accident.”

Charles took the phone from him, scrolling carefully through her feed. The soft aesthetics. The little captions. Kimi in the background of nearly every photo, his arm around her waist, his chin on her shoulder.

“She really stayed gone,” Arthur said. “She meant it.”

And it hurt. It shouldn’t have surprised them — not really. But it did. They’d spent so long pretending she’d come back on her own. That time would heal things without them having to face what they’d done — or failed to do. But now, the girl they barely said goodbye to had grown up into someone they didn’t even recognize. Someone who had built a life without them.

“She’s with Kimi,” Charles said, staring down at one of the photos. “She’s been with him a while, I think.”

Arthur looked over. “Do you think he knows who she is?”

Charles shook his head. “If he did, we’d have known a long time ago.”

Silence stretched between them again. Then Arthur said it — the question neither of them had said aloud in years.

“Do you think she hates us?”

Charles stared out the window, jaw tight, eyes glossy.

“I think… she had every right to.”

—

[verstappensrealwife]

#SendBiceps - F1 TEXT AU

[f1 masterlist / f1 text au masterlist]

ʚɞ as in which... reader wants bicep pics

ʚɞ containing: In4, aka12, fa14, cl16, Is18, mv33, Ih44, cs55, op81

ʚɞ warnings: slight nsfw for some if you squint

( Tags under cut )

—

Tags: @hales-in-universe @beforethestation @blakebearsblog @miahgonzalez16 @pear-1206 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @anamiad00msday @armystay89 @whore4fictionalman @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @painfully-stupid @criminallysuperhamilfan13 @4481sworld

—

likes + reblogs appreciated🪽

[no-144444]

Could you do an smau with Kimi Antonelli where he starts dating Verstappen!reader, and people joke about him dating her for Max because he's always fanboying about Max, thank you!

my brother, or me? -k.antonelli

summary: Kimi joins the grid with your brother, and you two stop posting each other on socials, cheating rumours spark, and your new album coming out doesn't help.

pairing: kimi antonelli x fem! singer! reader (i used tate mcrae as a face and album claim because she's so fucking good)

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youruser

liked by kimiantonelli, mercedesf1team, georgerussell and 4,764,382 others

youruser this is my boyfriend with a) my brother, b) his team boss (😐), and c) his best mate. the other two pictures of him are how he looks at me. the last picture is a representation of how i'm feeling. is it just a necklace?

comments

olliebearman it's just a necklace for me 🤷

kimiantonelli 🫠🫠🫠

mercedesf1team this is so… insane! 😹 -> youruser I CAN GET WORSE!

maxverstappen y/n, what the fuck is this? -> kimiantonelli NOTHING, she's insane -> youruser calling me crazy now? ⁉️ -> maxverstappen he's not wrong to... -> youruser both of you owe me an apology!

mercedesf1team we love kimi- toto -> youruser I LOVE KIMI. HE'S MINE! -> mercedesf1team we can share- toto -> youruser stan twitter will kill you. -> mercedesf1team he's all yours?- toto -> youruser YAY! @.kimiantonelli -> kimiantonelli please don't threaten my boss baby -> user242 why does he never play into her jokes? -> user82 ikr, it annoys me so much! can he not just join her in her whimsy? -> user2824 no, because she's immature and annoying, hope this helps xxxx

user24 Ollie and Kimi are awfully close...

user294 OLLIE AND KIMI PLEASE DON'T PULL A BROCEDES ON ME -> youruser I won't let them 🕺 -> user83 doing the lord's work -> youruser I try 🫶

paularon *honourable mention* the time when you surprised Kimi and Ollie was in his bed ⁉️⁉️ -> youruser better than the time i caught him looking at photos of my brother on pintrest😸 -> user57 he knows it's legal, right?

user855 My FAVOURITE part of Kimi and Y/n lore is that when she first met him she thought he was with Ollie 😹 -> user8356 nah, my fav gotta be when kimi freaked out over meeting max for the first time.

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mercedesf1team

likedby maxverstappen, georgerussell, and 853,847 others

mercedesf1team Rocking up to the paddock in style! 🦘🦘🦘

comments

youruser cutiepie! 🥧 -> georgerussell awh! thanks -> kimiantonelli she meant me?? -> youruser nah, i meant him. HE responds to my texts... unlike someone i know...

landonorris looking sharp

jackdoohan welcome to the homeland :) 🕺

user35 OMG HE'S SO HOT I NEED TO FUCK HIM -> youruser i get it🫠 -> maxverstappen please refrain from ever going on insta again -> youruser WHY IS EVERYONE TRYING TO CALM MY FREAK????

user8 a girl who is going to be ok

user924 YESSSS giving picture day realness!

user247 hamsters -> youruser I didn't see it in the tweet, but I see it with this one -> kimiantonelli ?????🤷‍♀️ -> youruser I'll explain when you get back to the garage -> kimiantonelli 👍 -> user28 they're so in love it genuinely HURTS me

user54975 i need a relationship like kimi and y/n

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youruser

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen, redbullf1team, and 2,763,382 others

youruser promise new music next week, but here's these cuties on the first race weekend of the season! 🏎️🏎️🏎️

comments

user7 P MENTIONNNNN -> youruser obvi, i have to remind everyone i'm the best aunt ever😏 -> user08 oh to be y/n verstappen's niece... -> user924 I WISHHHHHH

maxverstappen who's that strapping young boy? -> youruser if you're talking about yourself... I think we're past young mr. pushing thirty...??? -> maxverstappen no i was talking about kimi :) -> kimiantonelli thanks mate! -> youruser STOP TRYING TO STEAL MY BOYFRIEND FREAK! 🐺 -> maxverstappen *succeeding

user92 THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING

user358 they're both so pookie i cannot

user35 Once again, I ask myself WHY he's with HER. -> user123 ?????? -> user35 She's such a bitch and all she does is make fun of him, it's not cute, nor funny, and she goes around acting like it's hilarious. -> user123 has he complained once? -> user35 Not in public but I assume in private. Shocker that he likes her sister more than her.

paularon Y/n post a picture of herself challenge has been lost again...😔 -> user34 Paul gets it -> user234 PAUL PLEASE SAVE Y/N FROM KIMI -> user5588 ????? -> user234 he's so unwhimsy and boring compared to her, it's so sad how she has to dull herself down for him. 👎👎👎 -> user5588 has she literally EVER been dull? I DON'T THINK SO. -> user385 fr, people in relationships can be different kinds of people and once both of them are happy (which is true as far as we know), then why should we judge?

user995 WHY IS KIMI SO INTO MAX IT FREAKS ME OUT -> youruser THANK YOU -> olliebearman once i asked him if he ever fantasised about max when he was with y/n, he said no but... I didn't believe him.... -> youruser brb bleaching my eyes -> maxverstappen same. -> kimiantonelli NO I'M SORRY I WAS BEING TRUTHFUL I PROMISE 🙏🙏

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kimiantonelli

liked by youruser, maxverstappen, mercedesf1team, and 564,321 others

kimiantonelli Hard to put it in to words. Thank you all for the support xxx

comments

youruser my love 🫶 -> kimiantonelli my everything 🫶

user8 never felt more single in my life!

user554 why are they SO the alchemy coded

user5873 they were so cute then he won -> user248 when he ran out of the car, past his favourite person (y/n verstappen) to hug her brother instead? Or when he finally noticed her and gave her a tiny kiss and hug? -> user57756 become employed 😼

jackdoohan congratualtions mate! 🫡 -> youruser you're next on that podium, i feel it! -> jackdoohan let's hope so!

mercedesf1team Welcome to the family Kimi 'youngest race winner ever' Antonelli! -> youruser I know my goat. 😸

lewishamilton ⭐️

georgerussell amazing work mate -> liked by kimiantonelli

charlesleclerc major drive mate, well done

user556 why is it always about y/n in his comments??? ffs he just won a race!!!!! -> user57557 bc she's more famous than him? bc people care about their relationship? he's not going to pick you when he already has the most beautiful woman on the planet?

user577 WHAT A DRIVE!!!!!!!! -> liked by youruser

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youruser

liked by paularon, charlesleclerc, isackhadjar, and 4,342,249 others

youruser can confirm toto and I were in hysterics. holy fucking shit he won :)

comments

user99 my fav wag

user748 she's so me

mercedesf1team not hysterics- toto -> youruser and who was crying? -> mercedesf1team you u want him to have a seat next year? -> youruser YES PLEASE, I'M SORRY UR RIGHT IT WAS ME

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y/nverstappenHQ

liked by landonorris, kimiantonelli, pierregasly, and 325,593 others

y/nverstappenHQ 'so close to what' out next month, see you there xxx

comments

user5 kimi in the likes, not comments

user3847 OH PREPARE TO BE SICK OF MEEEEEE -> liked by youruser

user735 DIVA DOWN, DIVA DOWNNNNNN 🕺

paularon she's eating the house boots down houston we have a problem (did i use that right?) -> youruser why yes you did king! 👑 -> user835 no way we got paul aron saying THAT before GTA 6. -> georgerussell does anyone understand what any of that was??? -> paularon I'll teach you, just get me a meeting with toto, yeah? -> mercedesf1team I'm interested- toto -> paularon HOLY SHIT THAT WORKED WHAT 😼

jackdoohan the cuntiest of them all I fear -> liked by kimiantonelli

olliebearman WORK IT GIRL!!! 🕺🕺🕺

landonorris oh this is going to go HARD -> youruser you get it, and i appreciate that. 🧡

isackhadjar POOKIE IS EATING AND SERVING CUNTTTTTT -> youruser MY FUCKING BOY 🫡

user348 where tf is kimi rn? -> user2345 probably hyperventilating over his super hot girlfriend 😏

user245 Babe wake up, new y/n music just dropped. -> user348537 I'M FREAKING OUT ⁉️⁉️⁉️

user959 gorgeous gorgeous girls listen to y/n while watching formula one -> oscarpiastri they also listen to her while competing in f1 :) 🧡 -> landonorris HE'S SO DIVAA!!!! -> youruser oscar, i love you queen 🙏👑

christianmansell SLAYYYYYYY -> youruser SLAYYYYYYYYYYY

davidmalukas PRETTY BITCHES LISTEN TO Y/N VERSTAPPEN 💯💯 -> youruser YOU JUST GET ITTTTTTTTTT

maxverstappen please get off this app 👍 -> user475 DON'T SAY SUCH THINGS PLEASE MAX -> user457 older brother core

yourfriend UGH THIS ALBUM 💯💯 ->youruser ugh your gorgeous faceeee -> liked by yourfriend

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olliebearman

liked by paularon, youruser, kimiantonelli and 542,452 others

olliebearman kimi when he finds out about his girlfriend's next album: picture one. kimi when he realises max is free to talk in the paddock: picture two. @.kimiantonelli @.youruser @.maxverstappen

comments

youruser it's a sad truth... he likes him more than me... 😿 -> olliebearman I still love you more than I love Kimi so it's fine. -> kimiantonelli ⁉️🤷‍♀️ -> user385 OLLIE AND Y/N????

user53 ollie is shooting his shot and i do not blame him

user356 when will they just ditch kimi and get together? they were always cuter together anyway? -> user66 SHE'S BEEN DATING KIMI FOR ACTUAL YEARS WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE 🙏🙏🙏🙏

yourfriend he's a bitch -> youruser PLAY NICE IT'S KIMI! 😸 -> yourfriend ...👎

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isackhadjarprivate

liked by kantonelli, max4verstappen, yourprivuser, and 283 others

isackhadjarprivate us when we hear kimi embarrass himself in front of max AGAIN

comments

yourprivuser ik he's ur grid dad, but let him live @.kantonelli

pauloaron no way ISACK (aka the KING of embarrassing himself in front of Lewis Hamilton) had to call him out 🙏

olliebear the girls are fighting! 🕺 -> youruser he's learning! 👑

estebestie ...

lewishamilton it is pretty bad... 🙈

max4verstappen guys let's not be mean :( -> kantonelli exactly!

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paularon

liked by youruser, kimiantonelli, maxverstappen, and 734,294 others

paularon Us enjoying our time away from our son (aka Kimi, her boyfriend)

comments

jackdoohan MI BABES -> youruser MI JACKIE!!!

olliebearman looking fabulous paulito ->liked by paularon -> user385 MY PAUOLLIE HEARTTTT

user23 still boyfriend??? -> user556 be so fr they deffo broke up -> user323 if they broke up i don't believe in love. -> user345 please get a job.

kimiantonelli invite me? -> youruser i did :( u said no. -> user4 istfg if kimi hurts her i'll CURSE HIM

landonorris stop i want to be your frienddddd -> youruser invite me to mclarennnn bitch

pierregasly looking cute -> youruser why are u in love with paul? -> pierregasly why aren't you?

user555 DID ANYONE CATCH PIERRE'S COMMENT LMAO -> user99 PAULY/N TRUTHERS RISEEEEEE -> user13 he's so me it's crazy

liamlawson the pookie group :) -> youruser you're my pookie

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olliebearman

liked by kimiantonelli, youruser, paularon, and 742,294 others

olliebearman flicks from the past couple races, adios to Y/n and GOOD LUCK ON TOUR!

comments

user76243 so we're not talking about ioio? -> user356 i'm employed what does this mean -> user58583 basically the girl in the middle is a singer (y/n verstappen) and is dating the f1 rookie kimi antonelli, and she just released a song that makes it look like kimi cheated... no one in the paddock or her has said anything so we have no idea if that's actually what's going on

user576 BADDIE ALERT 🚨🚨🚨

maxverstappen who's the gremlin in the middle photo? -> kimiantonelli she sometimes comes into my garage to touch my hair... freaky. -> maxverstappen she does the same to me... freaky... -> youruser please stop with the joint bullying i just like to play with hair :) -> kimiantonelli weird hobby but i love you anyways so i guess it doesn't matter :) -> maxverstappen as sweet as it is to know my sister is loved, please refrain from doing it on instagram -> kimiantonelli 👍 got it max! -> youruser LET ME BE LOVED OUT LOUD MAX FFS NOT ALL OF US HAVE A FAMILY -> maxverstappen I'm your brother?? -> youruser I don't even know what i meant there??? -> user50 y/nkimi CRUMBS and he's in love omfg they're so cute

jackdoohan how's that hottie in the third slide single? 😏 -> paularon have you seen him and kimi? I wouldn't exactly call him single -> user767 PAUL WHAT DO YOU KNOW?????

user87y/n is GLOWING post break-up. she's seriously so stunning

user75 Y/NPAUL TRUTHERS RISEEEEEE -> user784 I've been here

gabrielborteleto the divas are in town 🙀

liamlawson BADDIE PAUL 😻😻😻 -> paularon "bad crash for lawson, straight into the barriers in the first turn" -> this u? -> liamlawson do you live to humble me? -> youruser I do... 😼

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f1WAGgossip

liked by pierregasly, yourfriend, and 823,392 others

f1WAGgossip Trouble in paradise? Singer/songwriter, WAG to Kimi Antonelli, and sister to Max Verstappen, Y/n Verstappen, recently released a song called 'it's ok, i'm ok', possibly alluding to the idea that Kimi might've cheated on her! They haven't been seen much together, though she has been in the paddock, but now she's going on tour.

comments

user37 y/n nation we ride at dawn

user25 I KNEW PAUL WOULD'VE BEEN BETTER FOR HER -> user5779 0 days since a pauly/n 'truther' has pissed me off. she's clearly better suited to ollie. -> user565 SHE'S DATING KIMI?????

user935 PLEASE SAY THIS IS A JOKE

user2133 finally she's free of him -> user356 ???? -> user2133 i just think they're not right for each other. she's so extroverted and open and he's just so... not. Like he seems extroverted but just not with her, and he seems to not get her humour. -> user84 key word? SEEMS! you know nothing about their private and personal relationship.

user244 PLEASE SAY KIMI IS SINGLE NOW

user73 finally i have a chance with kimi! -> user935 do you enjoy humiliating yourself online?

user358 guys i fear this might be the end of kimiy/n, her friend and pierre gasly liked this... -> user55 ok, and let's be so real, her friend fucking hates kimi. -> user546 maybe she has a reason to? she actually knows him personally????

user3853 my mate is in F2 and knows kimi and said he's been just off his phone for the past few weeks. i think they broke up AGES ago. -> user76 deffo had nothing to do with the fucking F1 season starting up, right? you are a moron, so is your friend.

user46 pierre here for the drama and i respect it

user7835 CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE NEW ALBUM AND HOW GOOD SHE LOOKS???

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youruser

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen, olliebearman and 4,342,245 others

youruser holy shit! tour is underway, max actually (WILLINGLY) came to a show, and got p1 the next day! I must be a good luck charm!

comments

jackdoohan might need some of that good luck over here in alpine... -> youruser bro you've had three podiums in an alpine wtf are you on about????? -> jackdoohan how hard did you hit your head last night???

user83 NO KIMI LIKE? IS IT OVER ???? -> user2567 i'm done if they are -> user3678 sleeping on the highway brb!!!

user35702 KIMI IS GONE, PAUL YOU MUST RISEEEEE

user244 OLLIE HAS A CHANCE!!!! -> user7565 yall are crazy they havent even TOLD anyone yet. Just let them live.

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kimiantonelli

liked by maxverstappen, lewishamilton, landonorris and 312,329 others

kimiantonelli Great season so far, up to P2 in the constructors, and P3 in the drivers. Can't wait to go back to racing, but first, some rest :)

comments

user835 not to be chronically online but y/n hasn't commented or liked???

user530 babes... it might be over.

user995 broke up with his sister, but still gotta get max in, i respect the grind.

user123 this is so insane i fear

user92 he looks so sad :( -> user573 he's a grown man -> user83 babe he's 18 and has been dating her for 3 years, it's a big deal

user8357 why isn't anyone talking about his incredible start to the season???

user345 guys i'm so devastated

oscarpiastri Putting in the work mate, good job! -> liked by kimiantonelli

alexalbon Forza Kimi -> liked by kimiantonelli

user3575 if my boyfriend broke up with me, i'd kill my brother for still being his fucking photodump -> liked by yourfriend

user375 ollie still making it into the photodump is so boyfriend coded

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f1WAGgossip

liked by yourfriend, pierregasly, landonorris, and 2,349,924 others

f1WAGgossip Crisis averted! Kimi and Y/n are fine (as far as we know), and he actually visited her at her show last night in Montreal. He surprised her on stage and everything!

comments

user83 I'M SORRY DID YOU SEE THE WAY HE LOOKED AT HER??

user34 she looked so stunning last night, and he was ENTRANCED fr -> user84 i get it.

user75 this is the best news i've had all week, and I passed the bar this week

user457 they're my fav couple -> landonorris same tbh

user450 can we talk about how yourfriend was adding fuel to the flames?? like wtf -> yourfriend lol, my b. kimi pissed me off. He's actually so in love with her it's so annoying and he takes her away from me :( -> youruser I still love you too :)

kimiantonelli People thought we were broken up? @.youruser -> user8435 LMAO -> user47 dude didn't even know -> user57 have you been living under a rock???? -> kimiantonelli No, I've been racing???? -> youruser could've sworn i told you, sorry love :) -> kimiantonelli all goo love. just to check, we aren't broken up, right? -> youruser nope. i'm all yours. -> kimiantonelli 👍 -> user353 why is he a thumbs up warrior?? -> user7565 they're so cute i want to claw my eyes out.

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navigation for my blog :)

mercedes & williams masterlist

[papayainsectorone]

ice baths

summary: Though young and still learning, Kimi’s natural stamina and desire to prove himself lead him to push boundaries

content: 18+! smutty smut smut smut (consider this a warning), nsfw descriptions, fingering, no protection

word count: 5,5k

pairing: kimi antonelli x fem!oc

a thought: I....I just don´t know what to say about this, i just finished writing this 30 seconds ago when Kimi came up on TV for a pre race interview in Miami on his fucking scooter and ... this feels illegal haha enjoy

The physio room was quiet, humming with low fluorescent lights and the soft, rhythmic hiss of massage oil being pumped from a dispenser. Kimi sat on the edge of the treatment table, shirtless, hair still damp from his earlier run, cheeks flushed from exertion—or maybe something else. Something he was trying not to make too obvious.

Sergi, his physio, tilted Kimi’s head carefully to the side, stretching his neck.

Kimi groaned.

"Can you already prepare the ice bath?" Sergi asked, glancing your way.

“Uh—yeah. Sure.” You blinked, caught off guard. Not by the task. By the sound Kimi had just made.

You turned away quickly, cheeks warm, pretending the ice machine required your full concentration.

Still, you felt his eyes on you again.

You smiled. Subtle. Just enough to let him know you noticed. Just enough to invite him to keep looking.

He blushed. Fully. Bright pink down to his collarbones.

God, he was a boy.

But a very, very pretty one.

“It’s done,” Sergi finally said, clapping Kimi lightly on the shoulder. “Ice bath. Four minutes.”

It wasn’t the first time you'd been in the same room like this. You’d been shadowing under Sergi all week, watching training sessions, prepping hydration, tracking recovery metrics. But this—this had been happening from day one.

Kimi had been looking.

And not the fleeting, dismissive glance most teenage boys gave when they saw someone cute. These were longer. Curious. Almost confused—like he couldn’t quite figure out how you ended up near him.

When you glanced over your shoulder, his eyes dropped instantly. Guilty. Caught. Adorable.

You stepped aside as he walked toward the tub. He looked at it, then at you. Then back at the tub.

“You staying?” he asked, voice low.

You raised an eyebrow. “Should I not?”

“No, I mean—yes. I mean… it’s cold,” he mumbled, reaching for the waistband of his training shorts.

You leaned back against the bench, arms crossed, watching with more interest than you meant to show. He hesitated, then slid the shorts down, revealing tight black boxer-briefs underneath.

Nothing left to the imagination.

He caught you looking.

His ears turned red.

But you didn’t look away.

Kimi exhaled and stepped into the tub, arms braced on either side. The water hit his thighs and his whole body jumped. “Shit,” he hissed, his fingers tightening around the edge of the plastic.

“You’re not going to die,” you teased, walking over and crouching beside the tub.

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered, trying and failing to play it cool. “You’re not sitting in ice water in your underwear.”

Your eyes drifted down to where the waterline just hit his collarbones. His abs were tight, trembling slightly, his legs visibly tensed beneath the surface. His jaw clenched and unclenched.

Then he said it. Quiet. Not even fully confident.

“Maybe you can… help me warm up again in a minute.”

He looked stunned the second the words left his mouth. Like he hadn’t even meant to say them out loud.

Your lips twitched. “Oh?”

His eyes flicked to yours, uncertain—but he didn’t take it back.

You tilted your head, crouched beside the tub, one hand resting lightly on the rim near his. “That’s a bold request, Antonelli.”

Kimi laughed—awkward and breathy. “Was it?”

“You tell me.”

He looked away for a second, eyes flicking toward the door like he was checking if Sergi might walk back in. But you both knew the physio wouldn’t return until the timer beeped.

“No one’s stopping you,” he muttered.

Your smile deepened, and your fingertips brushed the edge of his hand where it gripped the tub. Just the smallest touch—but he stilled under it.

“So you want help warming up,” you said softly, watching him squirm beneath the question. “That’s new. Weren’t you blushing two seconds ago because I looked at your legs?”

He didn’t say anything.

Just looked at you.

Really looked.

Like he didn’t know whether to make a joke or let something real crack open between you.

You leaned a little closer, enough for your voice to drop. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you stare, Kimi?”

His throat bobbed with a swallow. “It’s not just staring.”

“No?” you asked, voice sweet. “What else is it, then?”

He shook his head slightly. “I dunno. Just—whenever you’re around I forget what I’m meant to be doing.”

You bit your lip.

That earnestness. That teenage honesty that slipped past filters. He didn’t even realize how much he was giving away.

Your hand ghosted along his forearm now, the water droplets beading and running where your fingers traced. “You always this distracted in cold baths?”

“Only when you’re next to me in tight leggings.”

You laughed—he made it sound innocent, but your stomach flipped anyway. Your fingers trailed back to his hand, slipping just slightly beneath his wrist. The contact was featherlight, but it sent a visible shiver up his arm.

He sucked in a breath. “It’s only supposed to be four minutes.”

You looked at the timer. “Still got two and a half.”

Kimi’s eyes dropped to your mouth.

You moved your hand again—now along his bicep, where his skin was warmer under the water. Your knees brushed the side of the tub, your body leaning in just enough to crowd his space without touching anything essential.

“You really cold?” you whispered.

He nodded, very slowly. “Freezing.”

“Hm.” You leaned even closer now, lips near his ear. “Poor baby.”

He tensed under the teasing, like the words hit lower than they were meant to.

Then he turned his face slightly, and you realized just how close you were—barely an inch between your mouths.

His voice was quiet, rougher now. “You’re not helping.”

You smiled. “Aren’t I?”

You didn’t kiss him.

Not yet.

But your thumb traced a slow, lazy line across his inner forearm, feeling his pulse skip under your touch. His boxer-briefs were soaked and clinging, the outline of him obvious now, impossible to miss even in the cold water.

He let out the faintest, helpless sound.

And the timer beeped.

You smiled and stood. “Four minutes. You’re done.”

Kimi stared up at you, dumbfounded.

You grabbed a towel and tossed it toward him, eyes glinting. “Dry off, Antonelli. We’ll see if you still need warming up once you’re not half-frozen.”

He blinked, grabbing the towel with wet fingers, his mouth slightly open like he had words but couldn’t figure out what to say.

You didn’t wait.

You turned and walked toward the locker benches—slowly, hips swaying just a little too deliberately.

And Kimi?

You could feel his eyes on you the whole way.

You didn’t make it far.

You’d barely reached the corner of the locker room when you heard the soft thud of wet footsteps behind you.

Then: “Wait.”

You turned—and he was right there. Hair damp, towel half-wrapped around his waist, droplets trailing down his chest. His face was flushed, pupils blown wide. And he looked like he’d made up his mind in the last five seconds.

“Kimi—”

But he didn’t let you finish. Just like last time.

His mouth crashed into yours with the kind of force that only came from pure, boyish urgency. He kissed like he couldn’t stop himself—messy, too fast, breathless—but god, it made your knees go weak.

You caught the edge of the lockers behind you to steady yourself, his hands still wet as they slid to your waist. He kissed like he’d been holding back for days. Maybe weeks. Maybe since the first moment your hands brushed while you passed him the resistance bands and he blushed so hard he had to look away.

You gasped when his lips left yours to trail down your jaw. “Kimi—slow down—”

“I can’t.” He mumbled it into your neck, kissing, biting just enough to make you shiver. “I’ve been thinking about it too much. I can’t slow down.”

His towel slipped as he pressed closer, his cold and damp and very, very hard against you. There was nothing shy about him now—not in the way his hands gripped your hips or how his thigh slid between yours, grinding just enough to make you gasp.

You let your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently. “You’re really not holding back.”

He looked up at you then, flushed and wrecked already. “I don’t know how.”

There was something so hot about the honesty. No games. No pretenses. Just a beautiful, breathless boy who wanted you badly and didn’t know how to pretend otherwise.

You kissed him again, slower this time, tongue teasing the seam of his lips until he opened with a soft whine. He groaned when you sucked his bottom lip, his hips rocking against yours instinctively. He was desperate, but trying—trying to make it good, trying to do something right even through the haze.

“Touch me,” he said against your mouth, voice cracking just a little.

You smiled. “Where?”

“Anywhere. Please.”

That please made heat coil deep in your belly.

Your hand dropped between you, brushing the towel aside completely, reaching in his boxers and when you finally wrapped your fingers around him—hot, already leaking, twitching in your grip—his knees buckled.

“Fuck,” he choked, hips jerking forward. “Sorry—I’m—fuck—”

You laughed softly against his neck, stroking slow and deliberate.

“I haven’t—I didn’t even—fuck—” He was panting now, forehead pressed to your shoulder. “I swear, I can go again. I swear.”

That only made you hotter.

You squeezed just slightly, thumb tracing the tip, and that was it.

Kimi whimpered and came.

Fast. Hard. All over your hand, your waistband, his own stomach. His whole body shook with it, face buried against your neck like he couldn’t stand to see himself lose it that quickly.

You held him there, gentle, fingers still trailing over his sensitive skin while he caught his breath.

“Shit,” he whispered again. “I didn’t mean—fuck, I didn’t mean to come like that.”

You cupped his jaw, made him look at you. “Kimi. You’re fine.”

He looked so embarrassed.

But also so wrecked. Eyes dark, mouth swollen from kissing, chest heaving.

“I can go again,” he repeated, almost pleading. “Give me like… two minutes. I swear. Just don’t—don’t leave.”

You grinned. “I’m counting on it.”

His breath was still ragged when he finally pulled back to look at you. His lashes were damp, cheeks still flushed, but his hands didn’t leave your waist. He held you like you might vanish if he let go.

“I didn’t mean for it to be that fast,” he said again, quieter this time. “You just… you’re so—”

You kissed him gently, interrupting whatever apology was about to come. “It’s okay, Kimi. Really.”

But he still looked like he had something else to say.

After a long pause, he asked, voice barely above a whisper, “Can I… touch you?”

Your heart thudded.

There was something about the way he said it—so shy, like the thought alone made his head spin, but he wanted to. Badly. And it wasn’t just lust. It was something tender in the way his fingers skimmed your hip, how he was looking at you like you were untouchable—but he still wanted to try.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. You can.”

His eyes flicked up to yours, searching. “You’ll tell me if I do it wrong?”

You smiled. “There’s no wrong. Just start slow.”

His hands moved tentatively, reverent almost, as he slid them beneath your shirt. The fabric rose inch by inch, baring your skin to the cool air. He kissed your shoulder, then your collarbone, lips soft, like he was still trying to prove he deserved to be this close.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

You helped him tug the shirt off, and when your bra followed, his breath caught. He stared like he couldn’t believe you were real, his hands hovering like he didn’t know if he was allowed to touch.

So you took them, guided them to your chest.

And he groaned—actually groaned—when he felt you.

His thumbs brushed your nipples, watching your face as if every reaction you gave was a gift. And when you moaned softly, his eyes fluttered shut, like that sound alone could undo him all over again.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he whispered.

You leaned in, nipped his jaw. “Only if you stop.”

He didn’t.

You could now understand why they called him the wonder child in Formula 1.

Because even now—barely out of breath, cheeks still pink, hands a little shaky—he was learning. Fast. Not confident, not exactly, but observant. Focused. Like he was reading you in real time and adapting with every tiny shift in your breath, every gasp that escaped your lips.

His fingers were unsure at first—slightly clumsy, like he didn’t know whether to squeeze or stroke—but he watched your face like it was the telemetry screen of a quali lap. Every whimper you gave him, every arch of your spine, he adjusted to it. Like he couldn’t not try to be better at this too.

When his mouth dipped to your chest, his lips were soft and hesitant. He kissed there like he was still convincing himself it was okay—that he was allowed to taste. But when he drew one nipple into his mouth and you let out a sharp gasp, his confidence grew. His tongue circled, tentative at first, then firmer, guided by your breathy “yes, just like that.”

He smiled against your skin.

That little bit of feedback clearly went straight to his ego.

Still, his hands drifted lower, down your stomach, fingers brushing the waistband of your leggings. He looked up at you again, flushed and slightly wild-eyed. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, and he took that permission like a green light.

He tugged them down slowly, revealing more of you, eyes flicking down and then back up like he was making sure he didn’t miss a thing. When his fingers slipped between your thighs, he sucked in a breath.

“God…” he murmured. “You’re—wow.”

You laughed, breathless. “Not much of a compliment, but I’ll take it.”

“No, I mean—” he looked up, lips parted, eyes dark, “I’ve never—this is... crazy.”

But still, he didn’t hesitate.

His fingers explored, tracing slowly, learning what made your legs shift, what made you grip the edge of the bench. At first, too soft, then a bit too fast, but every time you moaned or murmured something back—“slower,” “right there,” “don’t stop”—he adjusted. The way he focused on your reactions made your head spin.

And when he finally found just the right rhythm—just enough pressure, just the right spot—you swore under your breath, and his jaw clenched.

“I’m doing it right?” he whispered, breath catching.

You let out a soft, broken laugh. “Very right.”

His grin was a little crooked, a little boyish—and full of wonder. He kept going, fingers slick and steady now, one hand bracing on your thigh as the other worked you. The trembling in your legs only seemed to make him more determined.

“Tell me when,” he said, voice almost reverent.

And when your hips bucked and your back arched—when you came undone on his fingers—he looked like he’d just won a Grand Prix.

You were still catching your breath, your thighs trembling around his hand, when you felt him stiffen—really stiffen. Not just his fingers now, but all of him. He was still inside you, slow and gentle with his movements, but something about the way you clenched around him—reflexively, instinctively—sent a visible jolt up his spine.

His lips parted like he was about to say something, but then he exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes fluttering closed. "Merda…"

He shuddered.

Just a small squeeze, a shift in your hips, and you felt it—the unmistakable way he tensed and gasped, like someone had pulled the air from his lungs. His forehead dropped to your shoulder for a moment, and his fingers stilled inside you.

“Cazzo…” he muttered, voice tight and ragged. “I—I —”

You blinked, and then realized. His boxers were soaked at the front. Still tight around his hips, but dark and damp now where he’d just—

He looked up at you, horrified and flushed. “I didn’t— I mean, I didn’t even—shit.”

You bit back a grin. He looked devastated, like he’d just crashed into a wall at turn one.

“Kimi.” You touched his face, gently.

He looked up at you like you’d just handed him a lifeline. “It’s not okay. I didn’t even… I didn’t get to do anything for you.”

“You did,” you said with a soft smile, squeezing his wrist where his hand still rested between your thighs. “Very much.”

His mouth opened, then closed. He looked utterly lost.

You leaned closer. “Besides,” you whispered, brushing your lips over his cheek, “you’ve got stamina, right?”

His eyes lit up, like something in him clicked. His breath caught as you kissed just beneath his ear.

“I… I do,” he said, more to himself than to you. His voice cracked a little, but his eyes held fire now.

He sat up straighter, jaw tight. “I can go again. I want to go again.”

And this time, there was no hesitation in the way he reached for you.

His mouth crashed into yours, all teeth and heat and desperation. You barely registered being lifted and eased back until your shoulder blades hit the narrow locker room bench. It wobbled beneath you, squeaking faintly against the tile, but the way he gripped your hips left no room for second thoughts.

He shoved his boxers down just enough to free himself—already hard again, thick and flushed—and lined himself up with a breathless groan. One deep thrust and he was inside you again, filling you so suddenly you gasped.

The stretch made your eyes flutter, but there was no time to settle into it—he was already moving, fast and rough, hips snapping with a kind of urgency that bordered on frantic. The bench rocked under both of you, and his hands tightened on your thighs like he was holding on for dear life.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Too good, it’s—fuck, I’m not gonna last—”

You could feel it. He was right there on the edge again, the way his rhythm stuttered, how his thighs trembled against yours. But you weren’t there yet—your body straining for more, that tight coil inside you still winding, aching.

“Kimi,” you gasped, grabbing for his wrist. “Touch me.”

His eyes snapped to yours. Understanding hit in a rush, and he didn’t hesitate. One hand slid between your bodies, fingers slick with sweat and your arousal, and found your clit.

The moment he started rubbing—messy, desperate, but exactly what you needed—it hit you like a wave. You arched, cried out, everything tightening as the orgasm slammed into you, hard and sudden. Your body clenched around him, and that was it.

He came with a broken sound, hips jerking deep inside you as he spilled into you. Hot. Endless.

Neither of you moved for a moment. Just panting. Trembling.

Then reality hit him.

“Wait—fuck—” His voice cracked. “I didn’t use a condom. Shit. I didn’t even—”

You opened your eyes to see him staring at you, wide-eyed, breath shallow.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said quickly, his hands shaking. “I wasn’t thinking—I just—” He swallowed hard. “Are you on anything? I should’ve asked. Shit.”

You reached for him, found his face with both hands, and gently pulled him down until your foreheads touched.

“I’m on the pill,” you said softly, steadying your breath. “It’s okay.”

He blinked, stunned. Still braced above you, his chest heaving.

“I mean it,” you whispered. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His face twisted—relief, guilt, awe, all crashing into each other—but he nodded. “I just—fuck. I don’t usually lose control like that.”

You smiled faintly. “Maybe you needed to.”

A beat passed. Then, slowly, he pulled back.

And when he did—when he slipped out of you, both of you still so wet, so raw—his breath hitched.

He stared.

Your legs were still open, thighs trembling, and his cum was already starting to spill from your lips, slow and thick, slicking down to the bench.

“Dio mio,” he whispered. His voice dropped to something low, reverent.

His fingers ghosted over your thigh, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“You’re…” He shook his head once, lips parted, still breathless. “You’re so full of me.”

You watched his face, the stunned hunger there. He looked like a man who’d just witnessed something sacred.

[landoughnut]

The Tube Top Incident - KA12

masterlist - request

pairing: kimi antonelli x horner!fem!reader

summary: your top fails you in the paddock, so you go to kimi's garage, but when you're father sees his shirt on you, he doesn't take it lightly

w/c & a/n: 1.2k | this is based off of this request! thanks for sending it babe :)

"This is bad. This is so, so bad."

Your heart was now racing as you rushed through the paddock, one hand clutching the torn fabric of your top over yourself while the other frantically tried to keep yourself covered.

Eyes darted around, scanning for anyone who might notice Christian Horners daughter's very obvious wardrobe malfunction.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. And right now, that meant getting to Kimi's room without being seen.

It was one thing for you to date a driver, but a Mercedes driver? That was practically treason in your dad's eyes.

You barely managed to slip inside your boyfriend's room, slamming the door behind you, chest heaving.

Kimi, who had been lounging on his couch, looked up lazily from his phone—only for his blue eyes to widen slightly as he took you in. Then, a slow, amused smirk spread across his lips.

“Well, this is interesting,” he drawled, stretching his arms behind him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He tilts his head, eyes shamelessly raking over you, “Did you come running into my room half-dressed just because you missed me?”

“Kimi!” you hissed, still clutching your ruined top. “Are you serious right now? My top just ripped open in the middle of the paddock, and I was about two seconds away from flashing half the grid!”

Kimi tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “I mean… I wouldn’t complain.”

You groaned. “Kimi.”

He chuckled, finally standing up and pulling his team shirt over his head. “Relax, amore. Here.” He dangled it in front of you, but when you reached for it, he tugged it just out of reach, his boyish grin never fading.

You glared. “Kimi, give me the damn shirt.”

“What’s the rush? It’s just us here.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. “Unless… you want me to help you put it on?”

Your face burned. “Oh my God, you’re the worst.”

"What?" He exclaimed, "I've seen you in less, you know."

"Oh my gosh! Shut up," you look away, now blushing even more.

He finally handed it over, laughing as you snatched it and turned away to pull it on. His shirt was oversized on you, the fabric soft and smelling like him.

"Drop your smile, this isn't a joking matter," you huff.

"I don't know, amore... this is pretty funny to me," he grins.

Just as you sighed in relief, thinking you had escaped disaster, the worst possible voice rang out from behind you.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?”

You froze. Kimi’s gaze flicked past you, his body stiffening slightly. You turned slowly to face your father, who was standing at the entrance of the room, eyes narrowed and arms crossed.

His gaze flicked to your oversized shirt, then to Kimi, then back to you. The realization dawned quickly.

“You— him—” Your dad's face turned an alarming shade of red. “You’re dating Antonelli?”

Kimi doesn't move but he does gently grab your hand with his, likely trying to comfort you.

You winced. “Okay, first of all, let’s not have an aneurysm about it—”

“Oh, I’ll have an aneurysm if I damn well please!” he snapped. “You are my daughter, and you are not dating a Mercedes driver—especially not behind my back!”

Kimi, to his credit, stayed calm, his usual cool demeanor unfazed. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t think your daughter needs your permission to date me. In ogni caso, sono innamorato di lei,” he cracks a tiny smile, eyes soft and glancing at you.

Christian gaped at him. “With all due— Are you serious? Do you even know who I am?”

“Yes, not that it matters,” Kimi said smoothly.

You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing. Your dad looked like he was going to pass out and he looked back and forth between you two.

“This is unacceptable,” he declared. “You’re getting out of that shirt right now.”

“Yeah, not happening,” you shot back. “Unless you’d rather me walk around half-naked?”

Christian spluttered, trying to think something to say.

Finally, he groaned and dragged a hand down his face. “We are not done discussing this. Find something else to wear.”

“Oh, I figured,” you said, rolling your eyes.

He stormed off, still muttering under his breath, while Kimi turned to you with an amused smirk. “So… do I get to keep my girlfriend, or do I need to prepare for war?”

You sighed dramatically. “It’s Christian Horner. It’s always a war.”

Kimi chuckled, slipping an arm around your waist. “Don't worry, mi amore, I'd win a war for you.”

Later that evening, after the chaos had settled and your father had stormed off to complain to someone else, you found yourself tucked away in Kimi’s motorhome.

You greatly enjoyed the quiet moments like this, there weren't many times when the opportunity came about.

You sat between Kimi’s legs on the couch still wrapped in his oversized Mercedes shirt, your back pressed against his chest. Some random movie playing in the background.

His fingers traced lazy circles on your exposed thigh, the fabric having ridden up as you curled into him.

“I think my dad’s going to try and have you exiled,” you murmured, tilting your head back against his shoulder with a small smile.

Kimi chuckled, his breath warm against your neck. “He can try.” His lips brushed against the sensitive skin just below your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You let out a slow breath, your hand reaching up to tangle in his hair as he pressed another lingering kiss against your neck. His hands, warm and soft, slid up your sides, just barely ghosting over your ribs, making you squirm and laugh.

“Kimi,” you warned, but there was no real bite to it.

He hummed, his grip tightening slightly as he turned you around in his lap, his blue eyes dark with amusement. “You’re still wearing my shirt,” he whispered, his fingers playing with the hem.

“Well, you did give it to me.” You shrug, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His lips curled into a smirk of his own. “Mmm. I did. But now I’m wondering if I should’ve asked for something in return. And I think it would look better on the floor.”

You gasp, "Kimi! You naughty boy," you lightly slap his arm. You rolled your eyes playfully, “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

You didn’t have a comeback for that, not when he leaned in and kissed you, stealing the air from your lungs. You comb you hands through his fluffy hair and he lets out a content sigh.

His hands wandered, exploring, teasing, until you were practically melting against him.

By the time you pulled back, your cheeks were flushed and lips a little more plumped and Kimi looked entirely too pleased with himself.

“Your dad is going to kill me,” he mused, brushing his thumb over your kiss-swollen lips. This was his favorite look of yours.

You grinned, breathless. “Not if I kill him first.”

Kimi laughed lightly, pulling you in again. “I like the way you think, mi amore.”

[dannyriccsystem]

Congrats on 1k pookie!! You deserve this 🫶

Can I please have Kimi Antonelli with 3, 8, and 18?

WOULDN’T IT BE NICE TO LIVE TOGETHER?

1K SPECIAL - KA12

Soft make-out session + Cuddling + Comparing hand sizes

SUMMARY: Your morning routine with Kimi!

WORD COUNT: 432

WARNINGS: Fluff, some suggestive comments

FEATURING: Kimi Antonelli x Reader

NOTE: Awkward. Sorry you’re just now getting this

A SOFT KISS TO YOUR SHOULDER. That’s how most mornings started. You’d awake with a slight groan, stretch your arms out over your head, and then lazily melt back into the mattress. All while Kimi was making desperate— yet futile— attempts at awakening you. He’d kiss every inch of bare skin that he could, whispering words of encouragement to finally rise and shine for the day.

This morning you rolled over to face him, and he readjusted his arms accordingly. He nearly melted when you tucked yourself against his chest, curled up so peacefully. But he wouldn’t stand for this! It was time to get up. So, he tried shaking you awake, and when that didn’t work he tried singing awfully loud in your ear. Emphasis on awfully.

“Y/N,” He whined, pressing his nose to your neck before he kissed you again. He wasn’t making it easy to stay awake, especially with how tight he was clinging onto you and the way his breath tickled your skin ever so gently. “Come on, vita mia, it’s time to wake up.”

“Noo,” You draw out, pulling away in your still-sleepy state. Kimi leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You lean against him, lips moving in perfect harmony. He can feel the way you grin victoriously, especially when he rolls over onto his back, holding your waist as you rest atop him elegantly.

“Was this your goal?” He asks when you pull away for air. You don’t answer, and instead just lean back in for another kiss. He doesn’t complain. He loves having your lips on him! His hands slide up your back, tracing soft circles along the smooth skin. He tries to chase after you when you reel back, but you press your index finger to his mouth and slowly push him back down. “Hm?”

“Let me see your hands,” You command softly. He’s confused, but he listens. You like that a lot. You intertwine your fingers, taking in how his palms nearly engulf yours. You grin, turning them to the side to show him. “Look at how massive your hands look.”

You say it with such joy. Kimi’s not sure why. He doesn’t care though, because when you’re happy, he’s happy. “You know what they say about big hands?”

“What?”

“Better to-” As if your realization kicks in, you lightly hit his arm. He laughs. “Hey! I was gonna say ‘Better to hold you with!’”

“Are you ready to get up now?” He teases, pecking your cheek. You respond with a sigh.

“I suppose…”

“Grazie, vita mia.”

[multicohn]

summary: being an f1 driver and student really drives kimi insane. surely, his partner is willingly to do his homework for him... right?

warnings: cursing, short

pairing: gn! academically gifted! reader x kimi antonelli

genre: fluff

author note: i do admire kimi for still being in school. i would’ve quit

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

y/n understood that kimi is busy and can’t really do his homework or study for exams during the race weekend. he has so much going on and y/n always did their best to help him, but being in a top team in the top category for his sport changed things.

kimi has more media to do, meetings that required his attendance, longer warmups, and so many other things slotted in between. he was even busy during the weeks that didn’t have a race scheduled.

so, he relied on y/n to help with his studies. his partner is academically talented and is always gifted top marks in every subject they take. kimi didn’t care that much, but he still wanted to pass.

he normally called them at night or on the way to wherever he was going for help. however, kimi is currently stuck in the middle of a triple header and had forgotten all about the stacked emails sent from his teachers about what needed to be done until y/n came to watch him and asked about it.

“what homework?”

“have you not checked your emails?”

• • •

“shit”

y/n watched as kimi internally freaked out. maybe they shouldn’t have brought it up, but in their defence — he’s always remembered ( and then complained about it ).

“babe” he gripped their shoulders with an intense look in his eyes

“you have to do my homework”

silence.

the couple just stared at each other. kimi’s eyes were full of determination while y/n’s were blank.

“you’re not serious” his grip tightened slightly, but it was barley noticeable

“dead serious” y/n scoffed

kimi has never once asked them to do his homework. yes, there have been times where y/n did his homework, but it was only a few questions so they didn’t mind.

but this?

“kimi, you know i can’t”

“please! no one will know! i swear!” he clasped his hands together and put on his best “sad puppy dog” look, but y/n didn’t buy it

“like how no one would ever know that you and ollie committed credit card fraud?”

“that was one time!” kimi knew he was screwed when they raised an eyebrow

he was thankful they were in his hotel room since y/n started listing all the things ( that she knew of ) he had promised to keep quiet about, but either told his friends or the entire internet.

“okay! okay! i know i suck at secrets, but please!”

“kimi —“

“please! i'm an f1 driver now! i don't have time like in f2 or f3!”

y/n sighed.

“please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please —“ they quickly interrupted him

“i'm not doing it —“

kimi physically deflated at this.

“but, i'll tell you what the answers are”

he perked up and instantly wrapped them in a tight hug

“thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you —“

“yeah, yeah, you're welcome”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

extra scene:

it was the tuesday after his trple header when kimi handed in all his work. the teaches praised him, despite the few wrongs answers ( “it'll be suspicious if you get them all right” y/n had said and he felt very offended by their words ).

“and they said i couldn't keep a secret” he scoffed internally while waiting for one of his teachers to finish marking his homework

“excellent work, kimi. glad you could keep up” he smiled and grabbed the sheets of paper

“thanks! y/n told me!”

• • •

“shit”

[oscpstri]

the chase | antonelli

antonelli x fem rbr driver!reader, 8,9k

kimi antonelli was always behind you— in the standings, in the starting grid, in your mirrors. everywhere you looked, the curly-headed mop was always there. but while you had a scowl on your face, he enjoyed every moment.

INCLUDES: soft rivals to lovers, SOFT RIVALRY OKAY, reader is a RED BULL driver, use of y/n, set in 2025 but definitely not an accurate timeline, profanity, kimi being a cutie, imagine seb and lewis type rs, this one is not as slow as the max one swear, inaccurate depictions of media day and the press conferences

NOTE: inspired by ONE WAY OR ANOTHER. i think this is my favorite idea out of all of the oneshots in this series. i hope i was able to do it justice. kimi is a cutie (and is talented as hell) and i claim him as my second pick of the rookie litter. congrats to kimi for canada podium! not proof read

( moments series | more KA12 )

People are usually haunted by nightmares— scarring images that keep them up at night, their mind playing tricks on them. Some perceive these as spiders, drowning, losing a loved one. You, on the other hand, are haunted by a singular curly-headed, brown-eyed, Italian who so happened to go by the name of Kimi Antonelli.

You and Kimi weren't exactly Rosberg and Hamilton in terms of rivalry, more 'he pushed me, I pushed him back, he pushed me off the track'. The both of you would never go out of your way to deliberately throw each other off, but if it happened then you wouldn't exactly be apologetic about it either.

This rivalry had been going on ever since the both of you were teammates in Formula 2. While Kimi raced under the Mercedes Junior Programme, you raced under the Red Bull Junior Programme. This called for the development of two very talented, very fast, and very competitive drivers. You finished fifth in the standings and Kimi was right behind you in sixth. And that's how it always was— even until now.

The teams make their way out of the grid— signifying the countdown to your debut Formula 1 race. Your eyes flicker to your side mirror, spotting the annoyingly familiar Mercedes of your former teammate. You qualified P15— not the best start. Kimi, of course, qualified right behind you. He seemed to notice your gaze and stuck his hand out from the top of his halo, waving at you before locking his gaze back in front of him. You roll your eyes at this from under your helmet, only gripping your steering wheel tighter as the red lights start to bounce to life.

This was what you had always dreamed off. And before you knew it, it was lights out and away you did go.

As you cross your first corner, you spot a car coming from behind. You give space out of etiquette, then freeze when you notice car number 12 slip right in front of you. You weren't about to let him have this, not when you were always slightly better than Kimi in everything— qualifying, points, wins.

You were stuck behind Kimi for a few laps, but you were tailing him like your life depended on it. Kimi might have successfully overtaken you, but you weren't about to go down without a fight. You were practically taunting him through his mirrors, taking in every move he made as he bounced around the track defending you. And he enjoyed every moment of it.

Coming up to the chicane, you slightly take your foot off the throttle. Not enough to back off but enough to make Kimi think that you were. He takes the bait, defending the usual racing line. And that's when you put your skills to good use. You go late on the breaks, hugging that outer line as much as physics would allow it, and the car twitches. Kimi jolts in surprise, not expecting the risky move so early on in the game. But then he scoffs once— not in anger, but in recognition. He should've known you would do that— you always did.

You were already past— risky, bold, barely within track limits— but past. You glance at your mirror, noticing the Mercedes get smaller as you push your car to its fastest.

You were going to finish ahead of him again and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Your car comes to a halt in parc fermé. P4 for a debut race wasn't bad, especially when Kimi Antonelli consistently haunted you for the whole two hours. As you jump out, you notice your former teammate moving towards you, helmet in hand and a boyish smirk on his face.

"Good first race," he greets, a shimmer of mischief in his eyes. "You beat me."

You look at him and quirk your eyebrow, expression deadpan. "I always do."

He breaks out into a larger grin before leaving towards the media pen. You shake your head at his antics, sighing unsurprised. You and Kimi were always like this— playful, rivals, next to each other. You were both polar opposites in terms of personality: Kimi was boyish, bouncy, always had a smile on his face. You were relaxed, quiet, masking no emotions. When the both of you were teammates in Formula 2, the media dubbed you as the 'modern day Seb and Kimi'— where he was Seb and you were the iceman himself.

Of course the beauty of Kimi Räikkönen was the fact that he only ever broke down his walls for Sebastian Vettel himself. And this dynamic was perfectly mirrored with you and your former teammate.

As you made it into the media pen, you are quickly directed to the long line of journalists and news reporters ahead. People asked about your feelings towards your debut race, the strategy you used to get to P4 from P15, almost kissing the podium, being the only female driver in Formula 1. All of which were questions you already knew the answers to, prompting you to reply with simple answers that satisfied the question but left them wanting more.

"What can you say about that divebomb move you did on Kimi in Turn 1? That was pretty risky, especially for your debut race."

You blink slowly, pursing your lips as you ponder on the question. "It was risky but calculated. You do what you have to do to be ahead."

The journalist nods at your answer. "Speaking of, are we going to be seeing more of the rivalry you and Kimi have? Or is that something we left back in F2?"

As the mic is pointed back to you, you shrug your shoulders. "I don't know. If he's still as good as he was in Formula 2 then we will."

And before the reporter could ask any more questions, you nod your head curtly and walk away.

Another race week, another round of media obligations. If you weren't a rookie and scared to be sacked barely ten races in, you would probably have already called in sick today to avoid as much of it as possible.

You could appreciate the good questions— the ones about tire strategy, mentality going into the race weekend, initial feelings as you embark on your second ever F1 race. But you could not care less for the stupid ones— one time in F2, someone asked you what your teammate smelled like. You could assure them that you weren't going to be that close to Kimi for you to get a whiff of his perfume.

The Italian only giggled at the question, and when he was asked the same he simply shrugged and replied: "Like apples."

Your perfume was raspberry.

The sea of reporters were already sat down by the time you made it into the room. Your initial plan was to be as late as possible— less time, less questions asked. Of course, you didn't account for the fact that your manager would be banging on your door before your alarm even went off.

The only spot left was on the far-end of the couch next to Max— you weren't complaining. As you sat down, you place the microphone on your lap and the circus begins. You honestly zoned out for a while, the reporters going for Max and Lewis first until a question was brought to your attention.

"Kimi, we've seen since Formula 2 that you've always finished behind Y/N— does this frustrate or motivate you?"

You're brought back to the room at the mention of your name, eyes scanning for the reporter through the brim of your hat.

"Well..." You look to Kimi once he starts talking. The both of you share a look that causes you to smirk lightly and him to smile small. You lower your head at this, fidgeting with the wire that was connected to your microphone.

"It definitely motivates me," he starts, looking back towards the reporter. "I don't think I've ever been frustrated at this fact."

You look up once again, one eyebrow raised at your rival's answer. He looks back at you with a cheeky smile, the same one he always gives you after a question is thrown about the both of you.

Max and Lewis only looked back and forth between the opposite ends of the couch. They didn't really know what was happening, nor do they fully understand the dynamic, but they found it entertaining nonetheless. The reporters did the same, entranced in the child-like tension that comfortably fit in the middle of you and Kimi. They probably even forgot that two world champions were sitting right in the middle of the couch.

"We were in the same car in F2 but it was clear who handled it better," Kimi adds on, tone as if he was stating the obvious. "I mean... she finished ahead of me in the standings so who's surprised."

The sea of reporters chuckle at this, captivated by the rookie's charm. You swear you even heard Max mumble 'just like you and Seb' to Lewis as they both had grins on their face.

The same journalist picks up the microphone, stretching a hand towards you. "Y/N? Anything to add?"

You blink twice before bringing the microphone to your lips, a small smirk settling onto your face. The crowd seemed to hold their breath in anticipation of what you were going to say. Even Max and Lewis did the same.

"Kimi said it best," you start. "He's good, but I'm better."

Fifth race of the season and Kimi was still hot on your tail. The cheeky banter that the two of you had was still prevalent at every media day. Kimi saying you were good at defending, you saying Kimi was good at attacking. It was a back and forth of snarky comments yet respectful compliments on the other's driving— something the media found absolutely entertaining.

You and Kimi almost crashed in Qualifying and the paddock buzzed with eagerness to see what would happen. While you stormed off towards Kimi's car to confront him, the Italian only looked at you with a smirk on his face. His eyes shimmered at your anger, finding the insults you were throwing him amusing.

You had managed to snag P8 on the starting grid, Kimi still behind you in P7. Which is why the both of you were chasing each other for most of the race. It's like the rest of the drivers didn't even matter, because the only person you were fighting was each other. If you led, Kimi would overtake you. If Kimi led, you would fight back.

It's lap 55 and the both of you were still playing tag in your cars. This game starts to irritate you, especially when you were so close to the end of the race. Kimi was in front of you. You almost kissed his rear wing a few times which caused a few angry radio messages from the man himself. He was defending like crazy, not giving you the space or time to do anything about the position you were in.

Until he slows down. Which catches you off-guard, until your eyes narrow. You knew exactly what game this guy was playing.

"Brilliant," you mutter under your breath, trying your best not to just push him off the track due to sheer annoyance.

You were now side by side the Mercedes of driver number 12, heading into the part of the track that is crucial towards who could take the lead between the two of you.

The both of you were going insanely slow, trying your hardest not to be the leading car when the both of you reach the DRS zone. You're getting radio messages from the team telling you to stop what you are doing to avoid a penalty. Toto was probably aging 5 years due to this stunt his rookie was pulling.

"Y/N, there's a car behind the both of you. I suggest you get on with it."

You hear the radio message loud and clear, but you didn't budge. The both of you were going 120 in a 200 zone, posing a great risk to the other drivers who were coming up behind you two.

"Fuck it." You push your foot on the pedal, now in front of Kimi. He reacts to your throttle and goes quick as well, only barely skimming your rear wing.

He was going fast, and you knew that you could play this to your advantage to get DRS. And you did exactly that. Because as soon as you could tell that Kimi had faster pace than you, you take your foot off the throttle and watch as he leads once the both of you reach the DRS zone.

"DRS available, Y/N. That was risky. Never do that ever again."

You smirk victorious at the radio message, immediately opening up your DRS and passing the Italian with ease.

"All in a day's work."

You go on to finish the race in P5, Kimi staggering behind you in P6.

The garage buzzes with post-race exhaustion. You’re perched on a fold-out chair, helmet off, hair a mess, wrists wrapped in cooling packs. Your race suit is unzipped halfway, the navy blue fireproofs clinging to your skin uncomfortably. Someone left a fan on nearby, but it’s doing little to cool the heat radiating off your back.

You close your eyes for a second. Just a second. Until—

"Didn’t think I’d see the great Y/N Y/L/N icing her wrists like a rookie," a familiar voice teases.

Your eyes crack open to find Kimi Antonelli leaning against the doorframe, still in full race gear. He hasn’t even unzipped his suit yet, cheeks flushed from the heat and eyes practically glowing with mischief. The blue Mercedes hat sat atop his head, doing little to calm down the curls he hid underneath.

You scoff, too tired to play along— though the smile tugging at your lips betrays you. "You were in front of me for a long time today. Nice job."

He grins. "Yeah, until you decided to pull that DRS crap."

You chuck a balled-up cooling wrap at him. He dodges it easily, like he’s used to you trying to hit him with things. "You started it."

"Had to win over you somehow." He shrugs, finally stepping inside. He squats in front of you like you’re the car he’s inspecting.

You blink at his wording. You hate that your chest tightens a little, a swell of butterflies threatening to spill in your stomach. His tone softens, eyes flickering briefly to your hands. "Seriously though. You okay?"

You narrow your eyes at him. For a moment, he’s not teasing. Not pulling the rival crap you both have always stuck to since you were in Prema. You shrug. "Just sore. I've had worse."

He stays crouched a beat longer before standing, stretching his arms above his head with a dramatic groan. "Well, sore or not, we’ve got rookie PR in ten. Don’t forget to act like you hate me."

You roll your eyes. "I don’t have to act. You’re exhausting."

Kimi winks. “And yet, you keep chasing me.”

You scoff again but can’t help the grin that slips. "Need I remind you that you're always behind me?"

He shakes his head at your words, turning on his heel. You grab your hat and fall into step beside him as you both head toward the paddock media tent.

"Next time I slow down for DRS, you're going to have to thank me for the free position."

You roll your eyes at his words, adjusting the hat on your head. "I still despise you, Antonelli."

"I know. You've said that since last year."

It was media day yet again and the press conference that came with it was routine— one of those long, slightly tedious panels where all the drivers are lined up behind nameplates, small mic stands individually distributed while trying not to say anything too controversial.

But of course, you and Kimi couldn’t help yourselves.

The sweet interaction you both had behind closed doors last week was long forgotten as the new week rolls around. A fresh set of snarky comments and huffed comebacks rally between the both of you, not caring about the situation you were currently in.

You’re seated two spots apart, with Ollie between you. He looks increasingly alarmed with every back-and-forth exchange. Isack, seated on Kimi’s other side, is trying to hide his laugh behind his water bottle.

"Y/N, what did you think of Kimi’s defensive driving last weekend?" one reporter asks, already smiling like she knows exactly what answer she’s going to get.

You raise an eyebrow, your tone dry. "Defensive driving? More like dangerous driving. He almost brake-checked me into next week."

Kimi huffs dramatically, leaning over in front of Ollie. "Maybe if you weren’t so glued to my rear wing all the time, you wouldn’t have to worry about it."

You blink, then tilt your head. "That's why I'm normally in front of you. You're too slow"

There’s a beat of silence then several muffled laughs. Someone lets out an audible, “God.”

Ollie glances at the moderator helplessly. "Are we allowed to separate them?"

The moderator tries to push forward, but the tension on your side of the panel is unmistakable— sharp enough to cut through the usual PR fluff.

And then, finally, someone asks it.

"Y/N. Kimi. With all this... whatever this is— are you two actually rivals, or is there something more going on here?"

The question lands with a heavy pause. Everyone stares. Charles almost chokes on his water. Lando turns to Oscar like did they just say that?

Your hand tightens slightly around the mic. You glance at Kimi, who’s already grinning like the devil. He raises one eyebrow.

"Well?" he prompts, clearly enjoying the chaos. "Are we rivals?"

You stare at him for a beat. Then smirk, voice monotonous. "We’re not friends, if that’s what you’re asking."

Kimi nods, all mock-serious. "Yeah. She just likes yelling at me, and I like overtaking her."

You roll your eyes at his comments.

Someone in the room coughs out a laugh. The moderator tries, and fails, to move on.

Max mutters something to Charles, who’s very obviously trying not to burst into laughter. Lewis just leans back, watching the two of you like you’re the most entertaining part of his day.

And that’s how the moment ends— no answer, no clarification. Just you and Kimi sitting in your chairs, pretending nothing happened, as if you didn’t just throw the entire room into confused, romantic-tension-filled chaos.

The press conference rolls on, awkward laughter still lingering from the last question. The moderator tries to redirect— asks a question about tire strategy for the upcoming street circuit. Kimi answers smoothly, then it’s passed to you.

“Y/N, are you confident in your tire management heading into the race weekend?”

You nod, keeping your tone cool. "Confident enough to keep my car ahead of Kimi’s... again."

Kimi lets out the most dramatic sigh. "You say that like you don’t spend every lap checking your mirrors for me."

You don’t even look at him this time. "What can I say? You’re hard to ignore when you're that close and that annoying."

Ollie audibly groans. "Oh my god, will one of you just say it?"

Everyone turns to look at him. He throws his hands in the air. "You’re not rivals. You're flirting. This is so much worse than I thought."

Lewis nods from two seats down beside him, arms crossed. "I’ve raced against Seb and Mark. This is different. This is… soft."

Fernando deadpans, "Yeah. Seb never smiled like that when Mark shoved him off the track."

Lando leans forward, mic dangerously close to his mouth. "Just blink twice if you're in denial."

Kimi only shrugs, smile tugging at his lips. "I don’t deny anything. She’s the one who keeps pretending I’m not her favorite opponent."

You roll your eyes, but you’re biting back a smile. "Opponent is the key word there, Antonelli."

George speaks up from the far end, sounding thoroughly done.

"No, see, this is what we’re talking about. That? That tone? That’s not ‘opponent’ talk, that’s ‘I-know-his-star-sign-and-how-he-takes-his-coffee’ talk.”

The room erupts in laughter. Teasing the youngest in the grid proved to be entertaining. Even the moderator gives up, leaning back with a sigh as the press completely loses control.

One reporter manages to recover enough to ask: "So… any final clarification? Rivalry or—?"

You and Kimi answer at the exact same time.

"Rivals."

"Something more."

Everyone gasps like they’re in a high school cafeteria.

You blink, slowly turning your head toward him. Kimi just flashes you that boyish, smug smile.

"What?" he says innocently. "You said it yourself— I’m hard to ignore."

The press conference ends with the moderator’s desperate attempt to bring order and the sound of thirty cameras still clicking. You and Kimi stand from your spot behind the table, still pretending everything’s normal even though you basically declared war and something else entirely on live TV.

You're barely five steps into the hallway behind the media room when a hand tugs on your sleeve.

"Okay. Stop. You. You’re not going anywhere."

It’s Lando, planted dead center in the corridor like a traffic cone in papaya. "You two need to talk. Or confess. Or kiss. Or crash. Honestly, I don’t care anymore, but this 'are-they-or-aren’t-they' is draining. Entertaining! But come on, man."

Oscar appears right behind him, arms folded. "Yeah. I’d say 'get a room' but apparently you’ve got like… a whole media room watching instead."

George leans against the wall, ever the instigator. "This is honestly more tense than when Lewis threw that hat at Nico."

Kimi just blinks at them. "You’re all very dramatic."

You deadpan. "You literally fake-yawned during my answer so I’d look at you."

Max walks by eating something from catering. "You’re both unhinged. If I have to hear "I’m always ahead of him" and 'I'm better than her' one more time, I’m crashing you both out myself."

Lewis appears like a wise dad who’s so done. "Look. I love a good rivalry. Keeps things interesting. But this— this is a rom-com in race suits. Either admit you like each other or we’re making a group chat intervention."

Liam gives you a pointed look. "Don’t even try to act cool. I’ve seen you soft-launch him on your story."

Your eyes widen. "That was his helmet."

"Exactly."

The hallway fills with groans and mock outrage as Kimi chuckles beside you, fully basking in the chaos. You glance up at him, exasperated, but the grin on his face is all boyish charm and zero apology.

He leans just a little closer, voice low. "Told you we’re not subtle anymore."

You shake your head, muttering, "You’re insufferable."

He winks. "But you like it."

And yeah— maybe you do.

Race day and you're already on edge.

Maybe it's the press conference shenanigans. Maybe it's Kimi's stupid, smug, post-conference hallway wink. Or maybe it's the fact that everyone on the grid suddenly decided to become certified couples therapists.

Whatever it is, you helmet feels tighter, the air feels heavier, and you could hear your heart beating in your chest.

"Y/N, radio check. How are we feeling?"

You don't respond immediately, just adjusting your grip on your steering wheel. Kimi's car is beside you on the grid, just one position below you. He was waving at an engineer, bouncy as ever, and you don't know if you want to kiss him or crash him.

Before you knew it, the five red lights go out and you slam your foot on the pedal.

You get a clean launch but Kimi had a faster reaction. The two of you are alongside each other into Turn 1 and you already hated it. You squeeze tighter on the inside, taking a sharper line. He pulls back ahead by Turn 3 and you continue to chase.

Every time he turns, you follow. You're not racing the others anymore— you're locked into car number 12 like it's personal. Like the entire race is just you and him.

Eventually you get past him as he zooms into the pit lane. But that doesn't stop the knot to form in your chest.

Your grip on the steering wheel tightens with every turn. The car hums like it always does but your brain is somewhere else entirely. Somewhere behind you. Somewhere in a black and blue car.

"Antonelli is 0.4 behind you."

You could practically feel him through your mirrors, like a phantom chasing your tail. He had been right there for five laps— patiently waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And you hate that a part of you has started to drive more for him than for the points.

Something had shifted. It wasn't just racing anymore, wasn't just banter and cheeky smirks and toeing the line. He looked and talked to you in the press conference like you were the only one in the room— he always does. And now it's messing with you.

You're faster, better— you know this. But your head's too loud. Your heart even louder.

You brake too late into Turn 9. The rear of your Red Bull twitches and your instinct kicks in. You overcorrect, unsettled by the snap, but the grip vanishes from your rear tires.

You spin.

It's no catastrophic, but it's dramatic. Smoke kicks up as your car hurtles into the wall, sending bits of debris scattered all over the track. You weren't hurt, but you weren't moving either. The engine stalls.

You sit still, breathing hard. Helmet still on, grip like a death lock on the wheel.

"Are you okay?"

You don't bother to reply, just slumped in your seat. Stupid emotions buzzing around in your head like it would explode. You see the marshals wave the red flag and you see the Mercedes you were running from slow down as it passes you. Slow enough that you could tell he was looking. Slow enough that you knew he was debating on jumping out.

You swallow and flick the switches, trying your best to get the engine to fire back. It doesn't.

"Yeah," you finally reply. "Just— yeah."

Your engineer tells you to kill the car. Your brain tells you to scream.

You make your way out of your car, and the world feels a little too loud.

You quickly take your race suit off as you whiz past the pit lane, not even bothering to stay for the entire race. You throw your hat on, wanting to get away from the paddock. Away from the cameras and the pitying eyes.

But Red Bull is Red Bull. There's no hiding in the world champion's garage, not with the interns side-eyeing you and the engineers pretending not to notice the tension bleeding off you like smoke.

You slump down into one of the chairs. Your arms are crossed, foot bouncing, eyes locked onto nothing. Every time you blink you see the moment again— the oversteer, the snap, the runoff, his car.

You were not okay.

And apparently your teammate could tell.

You didn't even notice that you had been glued to the exact same spot for a long time until you catch Max slide into the chair in front of you. The race had ended.

"Want to tell me what that was?"

You blink at him, jaw tight. "Was a mistake. I messed up."

"Well, yeah," he deadpans, adjusting his hat. "But that's not what I meant."

You don't respond. Already not liking where this was heading.

"You and Kimi." He leans forward, lowering his voice. "What's going on?"

You scowl, slumping even more into your seat as if that would hide you from Max Verstappen's stormy-eyed gaze. "Nothing's going on."

"Right. That press conference on Thursday would say otherwise."

You scoff. "Whatever happened in that press conference was utter bullshit and you know that."

"Do I?" Max raises an eyebrow, leaning back into his seat. "Because the way he looked at your replay after the race..."

You snap to look at him, cursing yourself internally for being too eager to know. Max notices this and sighs, "He didn't leave until he saw you get out. George told me he would've gotten out if Toto didn't yell at him not to."

You look back to your spot on the floor, unable to reply.

"He almost swerved too. Dropped down to P11."

Silence hangs between you. A million thoughts raced through your mind and your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest.

"You think I threw away points for a boy?" You finally build the courage to look at him.

Max just shrugs, "I think you forgot you were racing everyone else."

You exhale shakily and thank the heavens that Max doesn't push. He just stands up and gives your shoulder a pat. "Sort your head out, Y/N. You're better than this."

As he walks away, you catch sight of the familiar sight of curls and blue lingering near the entrance of the hospitality.

And you decide right then and there that you were going to do this for yourself. No more distractions.

Kimi Antonelli has always been good at bouncing back. Always smiling, able to shake things off, easy to just be.

But lately? Not so much.

You've been quiet. Not cold— but distant. Professional, like he was just another driver on the grid now and not the one you used to glare at from across the room with a sly smirk. You still greet each other but only because you have to. You haven't looked at him longer than two seconds since your crash three weeks ago. And Kimi? He's losing his mind over it.

But it's not like he doesn't know why.

You spiraled after that crash, everyone could tell. He saw it in the way you avoided any form of media, in the way you hid from the paddock, in the way Max helped in pulling you aside, in the way you sat at the next press conference like you were building a brick wall between you and everything else— especially him.

And what did that get Kimi? Messing up.

He locks up into Turn 3 during Q2, tires screeching. He almost scraps the car, giving Toto the time of his life behind the monitors. He even misses the apex in Q3— not once, but twice.

"P15, Kimi," his engineer radios, voice tight. "You okay?"

Kimi stays silent for a beat before finally replying, "Yeah."

He jumps out of the car with a blank expression. He pulls off his gloves with more force than necessary and walks right past the media pen without saying a word. Their PR managers try to call him back, but he doesn't stop, doesn't even look back.

You were the complete opposite.

You pass by on your cool-down lap, securing P4. He watches your car cruise down the pit lane from the garage and the worst part? You don't even glance his way.

Kimi finally feels it. The horrible ache in his chest that maybe this rivalry doesn't feel like a rivalry anymore— just an ending he didn't ask for.

Kimi is finally forced into the media pen for some last-minute interviews. He answers bluntly, no emotion behind his voice as he stares into the void behind the camera. Some interviewers even started to get irritated with the lack of answers, but before they could probe any more, Kimi walks away from the crowd and heads back to the hospitality.

You saw it all. The way his eyes held no spark behind him, the way his voice continued to be flat whenever he talked. You saw the articles and the videos of people trying to piece things together. The timeline from your crash three weeks ago to Kimi's horrendous qualifying session.

You had just seen a clip of Kimi's interview and something in your chest aches— sharp and undeniable.

"Alright, what's going on?"

You flinch slightly at the voice. Max stands a few feet away, arms crossed, expression unreadable. He wasn't angry— but he wasn't casual either.

You quickly pull your headphones off, discreetly turning off your phone and facing the screen down. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Max quirks an eyebrow. "That's not what your face says."

You roll your eyes at his probing. "Seriously, Max. I'm just tired."

He doesn't move. Still watching. Still knowing.

"You've been off for weeks," he says finally. "You barely talk anymore and you look like you're fighting ghosts every time you're in the car."

You look down at your hands, twiddling your thumbs.

"It's not a big deal," you murmur. "Just... dumb stuff."

He scoffs slightly. "If it was dumb, it wouldn't be getting to you this bad."

You don't respond. You know he's got you

Max walks over and takes the seat across from you, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "It's about Kimi, isn't it?"

You hesitate but your silence said enough.

"I saw the interview," he adds, voice quieter. "Kid's a wreck."

Your lips twitch into something bitter. "He should be."

Max frowns at that. "So what happened?"

You take a deep breath, leaning back into your seat. "I told myself that if I cut him out, I'd drive better. That he was a distraction."

He nods slowly. "And?"

"I almost crashed last weekend."

He sighs, confirming everything he's already pieced together.

"He's still distracting me. Even when I ignore him."

Max leans back in his seat, thinking. "Listen, I’m not gonna play therapist. But it doesn’t go away by pretending it’s not there. And it’s not weak to care about people. Even... annoying curly-haired Italians."

You huff out a quiet laugh despite yourself. "He’s so annoying."

Max smirks. "He likes you."

Your head snaps toward him. "What—"

"He likes you," he repeats. "Like... likes you. The whole paddock sees it."

You stay quiet for a second too long.

"And George told me."

Your eyebrows furrow at this information. "Since when do you talk casual to George?"

Max puts his hands up in mock surrender. "Hey, he's not great but I'll do anything for you. You're like my little sister."

You smile at this, grateful for the support your teammate had.

Max tilts his head. “So... do you like him?”

Your fingers twist in your hoodie sleeve. "I don’t know what I feel when he’s around. But when he’s not... everything feels worse."

Max nods once, like that’s enough.

"Then maybe don’t fight it so hard," he says, standing. "Racing’s hard enough. Don’t make it harder by pretending you don’t care."

You watch as he starts to walk away, and just before he disappears out the door, he calls over his shoulder:

"Oh— and if he hurts you, I’ll punt him into next week."

You grin. "Thanks, Max."

He just raises a hand in acknowledgment, walking out the door like he just saved your life.

Despite Max's advice, you couldn't find the courage to talk to Kimi about it. So for a month, you both ignored each other like the plague and your races just went south from there.

You both would barely qualify in Q3 anymore and you wouldn't be able to make it out of a race without clipping the wall. Kimi was just as bad, getting into bad crashes every other week.

It was horrible. But the two of you didn't do anything about it.

Now it was race day, lap 43, and despite the distance created between you two for the past weeks, that didn't mean he still wasn't behind you through every corner.

Your Red Bull is barely in front. Kimi's Mercedes eats at your slipstream like its oxygen— still constantly in your mirrors, constantly on your nerves.

You tried to focus, but he was always there. And unless you decided to push him off, there was nothing you could do.

He lunges into Turn 7 and you don't give way. Your cars go wheel-to-wheel, leaving no room for each other within the track. Kimi tries to edge ahead on the outside. You squeeze him in retaliation, not enough to send him off but enough to send a message.

But he doesn't back off. He jerks the car forward with one final push and all hell breaks loose. Your front wing clips his rear and you swear you can hear the groans of both Christian and Toto all the way from the pit wall.

The contact is light but enough to shatter your wing and blow his tire. Both cars spin in tandem like a devil's tango, red and blue tangled in smoke and weeks of unspoken words. The crowd screams, marshals scramble, radios go haywire.

Everything is chaos. Everything except the burning in your chest.

You slam your fists on your steering wheel as your car comes to a halt on the gravel.

"Y/N, you okay?"

You don't reply. Instead, your eyes drift to the rundown Mercedes beside you. You see Kimi unbuckle his belt and take his helmet and balaclava off. He stood next to his car, posture stiff, eyes locked on your car.

You rip your helmet off and glare at him through the smoke and dust. And for the first time ever, there's no playfulness in the way you look at each other.

Just fury and heartbreak.

You say nothing. He says nothing. The marshals move in, but it's too late— the silence between the two of you has said it all.

You walk into the hospitality suite still in your race suit, helmet under your arm, jaw clenched so tight it hurts.

The room goes silent. No one knows what to say.

Your crash replay is already looping on the TV— Red Bull and Mercedes in slow-mo carnage. And not the cars the media expected either. The wing clipping, the tire bursting, the spin— you staring at Kimi like you’ve never known him at all.

Max is already there. So is your race engineer, Christian, your performance coach. The air is thick.

Max looks up, stress just as prominent on his face. "What the hell was that?"

You freeze, one foot still halfway in the doorway.

"You want the PR-friendly version or the one where I say I finally lost it?" you bite.

"You're not helping your case either way," he says calmly, but not coldly. Max is firm— older, sharper, not your rival but someone who’s been through every form of paddock chaos. "Look, I get it. You two have history. But this? This was emotional. Not smart."

Your fists clench around your helmet.

"It wasn’t just emotional. He pushed, I pushed back."

"That’s not racing. That’s a vendetta."

Your jaw ticks.

Your engineer tries to pivot. "We’ll review telemetry, see where we can defend the move if the stewards come calling."

But the conversation feels background now. Your eyes flick up to the TV again— frame paused on Kimi staring at your car in the runoff. Helmet on, shoulders tight, and no approach. No apology— just space.

Too much of it.

Meanwhile, Kimi’s being led into a side room. He's still in his race suit, lips pressed in a thin, unreadable line. Toto’s already giving him a look that’s somewhere between concern and disappointment.

"You need to tell me that wasn’t personal."

"It wasn’t."

"Then explain the body language." Toto nods toward the replay. “She looks at you like she wants to kill you. And you just stand there.”

Kimi’s hands curl into fists.

"I didn’t go for a dive bomb. I stayed on the racing line."

"And she didn’t back out either."

He doesn’t answer.

Toto sighs. "You two want to destroy each other, fine. But don’t destroy the cars too. We can’t afford that kind of emotional chaos on track again."

Kimi just stares down at the floor, jaw tense. Because he knows— this isn't just about today’s race.

Media day rolls around once again. The room is packed— cameras, reporters, too many eyes.

You’re seated on the far end of the lineup. Kimi is three chairs away. That’s by design— someone in PR clearly didn’t want another headline.

But even with two drivers between you, the tension is unmistakable.

Max is next to you. Lando’s between you and Kimi. George looks like he’s bracing for impact.

A reporter clears their throat. "Y/N, let’s start with you. There’s been a lot of talk about the collision last weekend. Do you still stand by your actions on track?"

You blink once. Then twice. You lift the mic, voice perfectly neutral.

"I stand by the fact that I raced. The telemetry shows that much."

Kimi doesn’t look at you. You don’t look at him either.

The reporter nods, but presses, "Do you regret the result?"

You hesitate. A beat too long. Max subtly shifts in his seat like he’s ready to shut it down for you.

Finally, you say, "I regret that it ended the way it did. Not that it happened."

The next question is for Kimi. "Kimi, same topic. Anything to say about your part in the incident?"

Kimi grips the mic.

"I raced her the way she raced me," he says simply. "I didn’t intend for it to end in a crash."

"But it did," the reporter counters. "And some fans are saying this has gone from playful rivalry to something... dangerous."

Silence. Another reporter cuts in, sensing blood.

"Which brings up the bigger question— are you two actually rivals? Or is there something else going on here?"

You finally glance at Kimi. He glances back. It's not playful now, not teasing. It’s tired, frustrated, wounded.

You speak first.

"Do you think this way because I'm a female?" you start, voice monotonous. "Carlos and Oscar crashed last week but I don't see anyone else questioning if they fuck behind closed doors."

Kimi says nothing. Carlos raises his brows. Oscar shifts like he wants to disappear. Max? Max exhales through his nose like he’s had enough.

Then Kimi, after a moment, says, "We were teammates once. That’s all."

You nod. "And now we’re not."

Another mic is raised but Max leans forward into his own and calmly says, "Can we move on, please?"

Media day goes by faster than you had anticipated. All thanks to Max being the best older brother figure and flicking off the questions that didn't matter. The night was slowly coming, the sunset casting the sky orange and you were still in an empty hallway with your backpack slung over your shoulder.

You hear the footsteps before you see him. The sound of boots on the concrete echoing through the hallway. You don’t need to look up to know it’s him. You just close your eyes and sigh.

"Kimi, don’t—"

"I’m not here to fight,” he says, voice quiet. Almost uncertain.

You finally glance over. He’s not in his race suit anymore— just a plain black team hoodie, hair still damp from the post-race shower. He looks young. Tired. Like this whole thing’s been eating at him too.

You scoff, eyes looking away. "You’re always here. That’s the problem."

Silence.

"I thought that’s what you wanted."

You blink, caught off guard.

"I gave you space," Kimi says, stepping closer, hands in his pockets. "Because every time I got close, you flinched. Or ran. Or crashed into me." A weak laugh, but it dies quickly.

"So I stopped chasing."

That word. Chasing. He looks down, then back up. His eyes meet yours— tired but steady.

"But I never stopped wanting to."

Your breath catches.

"I’ve always been behind you, Y/N," he says, voice softer now. "On the track. Off the track. I chased because I liked being near you. I liked the way you drove, how you looked at me when you overtook me like you planned it since Thursday." He pauses.

"I like you. That didn’t change. I just... backed off because I thought it was better for you."

You blink rapidly, heart pounding. The silence between you stretches wide and raw. He doesn’t step closer, doesn’t touch you. Just lets it hang there in the air— waiting.

You finally whisper, "So what now?"

He shrugs, but his voice cracks just slightly. "I don’t know. But I’m still here."

You meet his gaze, and this time you don’t flinch. You look at him, eyes soft but unreadable. The words stick in your throat, burning like adrenaline at lights out.

He steps back slightly— not away, just enough to show he’s leaving the choice to you.

And you do something you don’t expect.

You take one step forward. Let your fingers graze the strap of your bag. And you say, just above a whisper—

"Then don’t stop."

You walk past him slowly, your shoulder brushing his. You don’t turn around. You don’t have to.

Because he’s already smiling.

You were slowly getting back to your regularly scheduled programming. You noticed it when Kimi stood closer to you during today's driver parade and when the both of you exchanged glances in parc fermé after qualifying P1 and P2 yesterday.

You were sure the others noticed it too. The tension was warmer, banter almost coming back full force.

Lap 68 of 70. The tension is high, your focus even higher. Your Red Bull dances through the corners, tires screaming, engine humming—you're in P1, with Kimi right on your rear wing.

It’s poetic, almost. The two of you again. No one else in sight, just the ghost of your shared past trailing behind you.

Your race engineer’s voice crackles through the radio. "Two laps to go. Kimi’s got DRS. Don’t do anything stupid."

You don’t reply. You don’t need to. This wasn’t about stupid moves anymore. It wasn’t about payback or proving anything.

Kimi moves up on your inside into the braking zone of Turn 6. You see him in your mirrors— calculated, clean. He isn’t divebombing, isn’t pushing you wide like the both of you used to. He’s asking. Testing.

You defend the corner— not aggressively, but fairly. A line drawn in respect, not in battle. He backs off, just a touch, but he’s still there. You both know he’ll try again. Maybe on the next straight.

Lap 69. You feel him edge closer, the Mercedes getting tow after tow. This time, he takes the outside. You could shove him wide, close the door, cut the apex like you always used to.

But you don’t. You give him space.

You brake early enough to let him choose the line. You even adjust your throttle just slightly— not enough to throw the race, but enough to say I trust you to take it from here.

He does. He slips past, clean as ever. For once, it doesn’t sting.

You chase him for the rest of the lap— not because you’re angry or trying to steal the lead again. But because that’s how it’s always been. You and Kimi. Push and pull. First and second. Side by side, even when you're not.

Final corner. You’re right on his gearbox, but you don’t make the move. Because he earned this one. And because you’ll get him back next time.

Across the finish line: Kimi P1, you P2.

The checkered flag waves in a blur of black and white as you cross the finish line, just seconds behind the silver Mercedes in front of you.

But it wasn’t just the result that had your heart pounding— no, it was him. It was Kimi.

You’d fought each other hard. Clean lines, aggressive braking, zero hesitation. But not a single corner was dirty. Not a single move crossed the line. It was the first time in a long while where it didn’t feel like war. It felt like racing.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding as you pull into parc fermé, the crowd roaring in the background. The adrenaline hums in your veins as you unclip your belts, helmet still on as you jump out of the car.

And there he is. Standing beside his car, helmet already off, curly hair flattened against his head, cheeks flushed from the heat. Kimi turns when he hears your footsteps, and for a second, neither of you says anything.

Then he smiles. Not the smug one. Not the teasing one. Just… soft. Honest.

You walk up to him and hold your helmet against your hip. "Nice win," you say quietly.

He looks at you like he’s trying to memorize this moment. "Nice race," he replies. "You pushed me."

You smirk faintly. "I always do."

A beat of silence. The air shifts. He opens his mouth, maybe to say more, but the media start swarming. Max claps you on the back. Charles yells something from the pit wall. Someone hands you water.

But Kimi’s still looking at you.

Before he disappears into the chaos, he leans in just slightly—barely audible over the noise. "I missed that. You and me. Like this."

Your chest tightens, but your eyes soften. "Me too."

Max stays standing next to you, a brotherly smile on his face. "You did well, kid."

You smile back. "Thanks, Max."

"And I'm glad you're both good now."

Your eyes slightly go wide at the mention of the Italian, ears turning red. Max notices this and smirks, "No PDA in the garages. And you better not tell him our strategies."

The podium celebrations are over. Your race suit’s half unzipped, champagne still drying on your skin as you walk down the paddock lane toward the team hospitality. Your boots echo against the pavement, the crowd a dull buzz behind you.

Beside you, Kimi walks with his hands holding his helmet. There’s a comfortable silence between you now— no jabs, no standoff tension. Just the lingering heat of a good fight and the electric charge of something that still hasn’t quite been said.

You side-eye him, the corner of your mouth lifting.

"So?" you ask, bumping his shoulder lightly with yours. "You finally happy you finished in front of me?"

Kimi glances over, slow and smug in the way only he can pull off. "Nah."

You raise an eyebrow, turning slightly to face him. "No?"

He lets out a breath that’s halfway between a laugh and a sigh, eyes forward now as you both keep walking. "I’m only getting started."

Your step falters just slightly— just enough for him to notice. He grins, because of course he does.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the way your lips tug upward. "Cocky."

"Confident," he corrects, flicking his gaze toward you. "You’d know something about that."

You hum under your breath, trying not to let the warmth spread to your cheeks. "Guess we’ll see what happens next race."

Kimi slows just a little so he’s behind you for a step or two. “I’ll be right there," he says. "Chasing you."

You don’t say anything, not yet— but your smirk grows just a little wider. You go up to him and plant a kiss on his cheek, running off with a giggle towards your hospitality, leaving him dumbfounded and red in the middle of the paddock.

You're happy. Because for the first time in a while, you want him to.

Lap 71 of 72. The desert track shimmers in the heat, and the Red Bull at the front of the train is holding her own. You.

And he’s behind you again. Kimi Antonelli. The same boy who used to haunt your mirrors, your dreams, your everything.

The same boy you once fought like hell. The same boy you gave space to. The same boy you once let win.

But not today.

Your tires are worn, your fuel light’s flashing, and your team is begging you to bring it home safely. But you can hear Kimi’s car closing in, hear his engine roar on the main straight like he’s trying to rewrite the ending again.

He sends it. Late on the brakes into Turn 9. You cover him off. He goes outside in Turn 10. You tighten the line.

Lap 72. Final lap. He’s still right there. The Mercedes dips and weaves behind your Red Bull, looking for a gap, looking for permission. But this time— you don't give it.

Not out of bitterness. Not out of pride. But because this one’s yours. You earned it.

You hit every apex. Every throttle input is perfect. You’re on the limit, dancing with the car, chasing glory.

And as you round the final corner, Kimi’s still behind. Close. Always close. But behind.

You cross the finish line. You took the gold this time, and god did it taste good.

Your breath’s still heavy when you climb out of the car. Mechanics swarm you, hugs and shouts and celebration— your first win. Champagne-worthy. History-making. Redemption, in its purest form.

You glance sideways— and there he is. Kimi. Helmet off, curlier than usual, grinning like the idiot he is.

He walks up and bumps your shoulder with his. "Happy now? You finally finished ahead of me again."

You scoff, shaking your head, a tired smile on your lips. "You say that like I ever stopped."

He smirks. "I know. I was just giving you time to catch up."

You roll your eyes but the flush on your cheeks betrays you. He leans in just enough so only you can hear—

"I’m proud of you."

He pecks you on the cheek then steps away, letting you take the middle step on the podium where you belong. The crowd cheers and the teams holler.

And even from P2, he never looks away.

[jennwritesf1]

the way you felt in my arms | kimi antonelli

requested? : yes! ‘hey there! could you pls write one where reader is ollie’s sister and kimi and her have been sneaking around dating for like 6 months or so. and then ollie catches them.’

summary : an accidental sleepover exposes your secret relationship with kimi to your brother

disclaimers : second pov (you/your), bearman!reader, rather fluffy in the beginning, not proofread 

word count : 2k

a/n : thank you for the request! I love writing for kimi atm, so if anyone has any kimi (or ollie) requests send them in bc they are likely to get done fast lol

yes, this is reposted, I’m switching my accts around

MEXICO GP WEEKEND

When Ollie had first introduced the two of you, his little sister and his best friend, he made it pretty clear that he didn’t want anything to happen between you two. You and Kimi had clicked instantly, finding you had a lot in common, and it didn’t take long for your friendship to grow into something more. You were hesitant to get into a relationship with Kimi though, knowing how upset Ollie would be, but that didn’t last for long. Some flowers and a promise to keep it secret was all the convincing you needed.

That's how you found yourself in Mexico, standing outside of Kimi’s hotel room at 10:30pm on a Thursday, blanket and snacks in hand. You quietly, and quickly, knocked on the door, adrenaline high as you glanced at the door to the right, which was where your brothers room was. You had gotten pretty good at sneaking around in the past six months, but you were still nervous of your brother finding out every time you did.

You worries quickly melted away as the door opened and you were met with a large smile. You matched his smile, quickly making your way into his hotel room. You set your blanket and the snacks you had grabbed from the corner store on his bed, then turned towards Kimi. His hair was damp, a few curls splayed across his forehead, and he was dressed comfortably. 

“Hi,” Kimi said as he made his way to you, arms wrapping around your waist. Your arms instinctively reached up to wrap around his shoulders, and you could feel him relax under your embrace. He pulled back after a moment, and it was then you could see how tired he was. Your eyes softened as you reach a hand up to run through the back of his damp curls. 

“You look tired, do you want to reschedule?” you asked, to which Kimi quickly shook his head to. You gave him a small smile, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty because you knew he had had a busy day with media duties and team meetings, and he had to be at the paddock early tomorrow. “Are you sure? It's okay,” you added.

“No, no,” He said, placing a quick kiss on your forehead, before stepping around you to the bed, though his hand found yours and he pulled you with him. “And, I have your favorite movie,” he added, turning to you with a wide smile as he turned his laptop towards you to show it already loaded up on the screen.

Your heart swelled at the small action, seeing your favorite movie, which you knew Kimi was not a fan of. “You hate that movie,” you said with a laugh, following him around the side of the bed, grabbing your blanket in the process. 

He flashed you a sheepish smile, pulling you onto the bed with him. “Yeah, but you love it,” he said, his tired eyes finding yours. You both cuddled up under your fluffy blanket, his arm wrapping underneath your waist and your head leaning on his chest. He grabbed his laptop, placing it where you could both see the screen, then played the movie.

It was quiet nights like these that you cherished, nights that were becoming too far between for both of your liking. It was rare either of you went on public dates, trying to hide your still new relationship from both the media and your brother. You hadn’t originally set out to hide it from Ollie for as long as you had been, but the more Ollie noticed how close you two had gotten, the more he doubled down on not wanting you two to be anything more than friends. You did plan on telling him soon, but for the time being both you and Kimi loved that your relationship was just yours. The sneaking around, only seeing each other after dark, stealing glances from afar, kisses behind closed doors; it was exhilarating.

Not even ten minutes into the movie, you had looked up to comment on something, but saw Kimi was asleep. His features were calm and he looked so relaxed, you couldn’t help the small smile that made its way across your lips. You stayed like that, just admiring your sleeping boyfriend, for a few more minutes, before reaching down and closing the laptop, moving it to the other side of you guys. As comfortable as you were and as much as you wanted to stay, you knew you couldn’t. All your stuff was back in your room, and Ollie would be looking for you in the morning. 

As carefully as you could, you tried to slide out of Kimi’s arms without waking him. You had nearly managed to when you felt his once loose grip on your waist tighten before pulling you back to your previous spot. You chuckled as you looked up, meeting his tired, still half-asleep, eyes. 

“Stay?” he asked quietly, his voice only a whisper. You smiled, but shook your head, knowing that you couldn’t. Kimi sighed, but didn’t move.

“Love, I can’t,” you said, chuckling as he huffed. “I don’t have any clothes,” you added.

“Wear mine,” Kimi said back, eyes now closed as his hand gently ran up and down your side.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure Ollie would love to see me rep Mercedes,” you retorted, earning a small chuckle from Kimi. 

“He wouldn’t suspect a thing,” he joked, earning a quiet laugh from you. A short silence fell between the two of you, and for a moment you had thought Kimi had fallen back asleep. After a moment, he spoke up again. “You’re so relaxed, I can feel it. You don’t want to leave,” He said, still trying to convince you to stay.

You looked up again, seeing a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and couldn’t help the smile that then tugged at yours. You laid your head back on his chest, pulling the fluffy blanket back around your body.

“No, I don’t,” you admitted. You didn’t plan on staying the whole night, just until Kimi fell back asleep, but it seemed that wasn’t going to happen unless he thought you were staying. 

Or at least, that was the plan. 

But the longer you waited in the dark and quiet room, cuddled up to Kimi, the more your eyelids began to droop. Every time you were sure Kimi had fallen back asleep, he’d mumble something to you or move his hand up and down your side again for a short time, letting you know he was still awake. Eventually, you just couldn’t keep you eyes open any longer, and you eventually drifted off to sleep. 

You were startled awake by a loud banging at the door, followed by a shouting voice. You picked your head up, tired eyes meeting a confused Kimi, who was patting around the bed for his phone. You looked around the still dark room, but paused when your eyes landed on the window, seeing the sky painted with shades of pink and orange. It was morning and you were still in Kimi’s hotel room.

“Kimi, we need to go!” a familiar voice shouted through his hotel door, followed by a series of loud knocks. It took you a minute before you realized the voice was your brothers.

“Shit,” you cursed, eyes wide as you turned to Kimi, who was mirroring your expression. You shoved his shoulder, trying to tell him to get up, while you gathered your blanket and jumped up from the bed. 

“What do you want me to do?” Kimi asked in a not-so-quiet whisper, texting Ollie from his phone to say he’d be out in a minute. You folded your blanket in your arms, setting it in the corner of the room, before turning back to him, shrugging your shoulders. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, grabbing your phone to see a few texts and missed calls from Ollie. “Oh, he knows,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself but Kimi had overheard you as he was trying to quickly get ready. 

“What?” Kimi asked, appearing at your side as you showed him the texts, which were a mix of ‘did you oversleep?’ and ‘where are you?’. His hand found your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe he doesn’t, you could just wait here until we leave,” he suggested.

“Maybe,” you said with a nod, although you had a feeling that your brother did know. You and Kimi had both been m.i.a all morning, it wasn’t that hard to put two and two together. “But you have to get going,” you said, helping Kimi gather his things. You leaned up, placing a quick kiss to his lips, before shoving him towards the door. You then quickly ducked behind the wall, sitting back down on the bed out of sight. 

Kimi cracked the door open just far enough for him to be able to slide out, but was stopped by Ollie before he could. Ollie had his arms crossed, eyes moving from Kimi to try and peer into the room.

“Who were you talking to?” he asked, looking back down at Kimi, who was shaking his head.

“Uh- myself?” he said as more of a question, trying again to step out of the room, but the taller brunette across from him didn’t budge. 

“Mate,” Ollie began, an unamused look on his face, “is my sister in there?”

Kimi was silent for a moment, clearly not expecting that to be one of the first questions Ollie asked, but that was all the answer he needed.

You buried you head in your hands, sighing. This was not the way you wanted your brother to find out about your relationship. You stood up, figuring that the cat was already out of the bag, and  made your way over to the door, pulling it fully open. Your eyes met Kimi’s momentarily, and your hand found his.

“Look, I can explain,” you started, looking up at Ollie, trying to read his body language, which was seemed to be displeased. He simply shook his head, his eyes darting between the two of you. 

“How long?” he asked, eyes now locked on yours.

“Um- about six months,” you mumbled after a moment, your eyes darting to the floor. You felt Kimi gently squeeze your hand, catching your attention. “I’m sorry Ollie, we were going to tell you eventually.”

“Eventually? In another six months?” Ollie asked with a slight scoff, and for a moment it seemed like he was actually upset. He paused, a sigh leaving his lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I don’t care, it’s just weird,” he said, and almost instantly a tiny weight felt like it was lifted off of your chest.

“Actually?” Kimi asked, having expected a completely different reaction to his best friend finding his little sister in his hotel room. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Ollie said, crossing his arms again. “We’ve got to get going,” he added, looking at Kimi, who quickly nodded his head.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kimi said, turning to you. “I’ll see you at the track?” He asked, seeing as you still had to stop back at your room to get dressed and ready for the day.

You nodded your head, turning to Ollie. “Be nice,” you said, giving him a small glare, as you knew Kimi was about to get a lecture from him on their way to the track. 

Kimi gently tugged on your hand, catching your attention, and placed a quick but sweet kiss to your lips. 

“Woah- I do not want to see that!” Your brother exclaimed, bringing a hand up to cover his eyes as he turned around, causing both you and Kimi to chuckle.

Ollie wasn’t entirely happy about the idea of his little sister dating his best friend, but as long as you were happy, and he didn’t have to see any pda, so was he.

masterlist | requests are open

[lnracer]

Hey babe, I have a little request if you’re open to it !!

Could you maybe write something Kimi Antonelli x fem!reader where she’s still in high school and doesn’t come from money at all? Like she feels super out of place in his world — all the hotels, race weekends, the fancy people, and she kind of feels like she’s not “enough.”

But he’s just… soft. Gentle. The kind of guy who makes her feel safe, like she does belong, even when everything feels overwhelming.

I’d love something comforting, maybe with a tiny bit of angst because… identity crisis hits hard sometimes. I just feel like we don’t get enough of that dynamic. Golden boy driver and the girl who still takes the bus to school. No pressure at all! But if it ever inspires you… I will cry. In the best way.

Thank you so much if you do fill my request and of course I understand if you don’t. Have a lovely day!

Pairing: Kimi Antonelli x High Schooler! Female Reader.

Warnings: Mild angst with a happy ending, emotional arguments, self-doubt/insecurity, class difference/social disparity and hurt/comfort.

Word Count: 2.164k.

a/n: Ahh, thank you so much for the request! 🥹 It's really not the kind of dynamic I usually see around here, but I loved writing about it and I hope I was able to capture what you imagined (even the saddest and most complicated parts) I hope you like it! ☺️🩵

Her heels clicked softly against the pristine pavement of the Monte Carlo paddock, the sound nearly swallowed by the hum of engines and a buzz of conversation laced with designer perfume. She tugged at the hem of her floral sundress — a soft, pretty thing she’d found on sale weeks ago — and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying not to flinch under the eyes that passed over her.

They weren’t cruel. Not exactly. Just curious. Polished. Intrigued.

She knew how she looked next to them — tall women with sleek blowouts, tailored blazers thrown over slinky minidresses, legs that disappeared into Louboutins. Everything about them screamed expensive.

And then there was her. Pretty, sure. But simple. Sweet. A soft pink lip gloss in a sea of sharp red lips.

Kimi noticed. He always noticed.

“Hey,” he said as he reached her side, sunglasses pushing up into his curls. His hand found her waist like it was muscle memory, warm and easy. “You okay?”

She nodded quickly, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just… not really used to all this.” Her voice was quiet, almost swallowed by the luxury around them. “It’s a lot.”

Kimi’s jaw tensed, just slightly. He saw the way her gaze dropped whenever another glamazon strutted by, saw the way she folded inward, like she was trying to shrink herself.

He leaned in, voice low so only she could hear. “You don’t have to be like them. I don’t want you to be like them.”

She looked up at him, surprised.

“I like your dress,” he added, brushing a finger down the strap of her sundress. “I like that you’re here, even when it’s not easy. I know this world is loud. But you make it feel quiet.”

She blinked, heart stuttering at the way he looked at her — like she was calm in the chaos.

And in that moment, even surrounded by gold watches and camera flashes, she started to believe that maybe… she was enough.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ──────

Until she didn't think so.

It was past 6 p.m. by the time they got back to the hotel suite — lavish, towering above the harbor, too many mirrors and far too much silence. Kimi was in the shower, washing away the sweat and stress of qualifying. She was curled on the edge of the bed, phone clutched tight in her hand, screen glowing with a headline that made her stomach twist:

“Kimi Antonelli’s mystery girlfriend spotted in the paddock — pretty, but painfully out of place?”

Her cheeks burned. Her jaw clenched. And the comments were worse — anonymous, faceless words from strangers, dissecting her like she was a novelty.

“Looks like she wandered in from a flower shop in the countryside.”

“She’s cute, I guess, but she looks like a schoolgirl next to those women.”

“Sweet, but not really WAG material, huh?”

She locked the phone and dropped it onto the nightstand like it burned. It wasn’t new — she’d felt the stares. She’d felt the way some of the grid girls looked her up and down. But seeing it written out, confirmed, cemented in black-and-white — that hit different.

When Kimi stepped out of the bathroom in a t-shirt and sweats, towel-drying his curls, he spotted her right away — still, quiet, distant.

“Hey,” he said gently, moving to sit beside her. “You okay?”

She looked at him, eyes glassy. “I saw something.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

She didn’t answer right away, just reached for her phone, handed it to him. Kimi read the headline, then the comments. His expression hardened. “This is bullshit.”

She gave a soft laugh, bitter and barely there. “Is it?”

He turned to her, eyes sharp. “Yes.”

“You didn’t think that the moment you brought me here? That maybe… maybe I don’t fit?” Her voice cracked. “Kimi, I’m still doing high school homework while you’re out there in an F1 seat. I don’t own a single designer anything. I smiled at Susie Wolff earlier and she looked at me like I was sweetly delusional.”

The air thickened. Kimi stood, pacing for a moment, frustration simmering under his skin. “I’m doing homework too. I’m your age too. Just because there’s money and cameras doesn’t mean I’m not still figuring things out.”

She shook her head. “It’s not the same. You’ve been groomed for this world since you were a kid. I… I still have to ask if we can split dinner when I go out with friends. I don’t come from anything, Kimi.”

He crossed the room in two strides. “I chose you. Out of everyone. And I don’t give a damn if you don’t have a designer bag or if you do homework in my hotel bed — I love that about you.”

She blinked at that. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I want to say it.” His voice was low. “Because it’s true. But if you keep looking at yourself through their eyes — those people who don’t know you — you’ll ruin us before they ever could.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Her eyes were glassy again. “I just… don’t want to hold you back.”

“You don’t.” He stepped closer, hand brushing her jaw, tilting her chin up. “You keep me grounded. Don’t push me away because the world doesn’t make room for girls like you. I’ll make room.”

He was genuinely sincere — he always was — she knew he really meant it, what she wasn't sure about was whether it would be easy in practice.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ──────

Barcelona, Spanish Grand Prix – Saturday Night

The air in the hotel suite was warm, heavy with humidity and tension. She sat on the window bench, knees pulled up, trying not to cry. Again.

Kimi stood near the dresser, pulling off his team hoodie with too much force, like it had personally offended him. “You didn’t even come to the garage today.”

She flinched. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped, turning to her. “You’re avoiding me.”

She lifted her eyes to meet his, voice low. “Because every time we talk lately, we fight.”

Silence. Harsh and sudden.

He ran a hand through his curls, exhaling hard. “So what? You just give up?”

She stood then, too fast. “I didn’t give up. I’ve been trying so hard, Kimi. But it’s like I’m never enough for this world. And now I’m starting to wonder if I’m not enough for you, either.”

His face twisted — hurt and anger flickering in equal measure. “Don’t put that on me.”

“Then what do you want from me?” she said, voice shaking. “To keep pretending I’m okay when the comments get worse, when I feel like your accessory instead of your girlfriend? When I’m expected to smile next to women who have million-dollar contracts and ten-year media training? You have no idea how hard it is to stay in a world that constantly tells you you’re out of place—”

He cut her off, sharp. “You think this is easy for me as well? Balancing racing, press, you—”

“Oh, I’m a burden now?”

He froze. “That’s not what I meant.”

“But you said it.” Her voice broke. “You said it and you meant it.”

Kimi looked down, breathing hard. “I didn’t. I swear.”

But it was too late. The damage had been done.

She stepped back like he’d physically struck her, arms folded across her chest like armor. “Maybe we should take a break.”

His eyes snapped up, wide with disbelief. “No.”

“Kimi—”

“No,” he said again, voice rough. “You don’t get to walk away just because things got hard.”

“I’m not walking away,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “I’m just… trying to protect what little of me I have left.”

He stared at her then, quiet, wrecked, and helpless. Like a boy lost in a world that was suddenly too big for both of them.

Neither of them moved. Neither of them knew how.

And in the silence between them, it was suddenly obvious:

They were still in love.

But maybe that wasn’t enough anymore.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ──────

They barely spoke in the car that morning.

He asked if she wanted coffee. She said no.

He reached for her hand. She pulled her sleeve over her fingers.

It wasn’t cold in Spain, but something between them was frozen.

She didn’t make it to the paddock that day. Said she had homework to catch up on. He didn’t argue. He just nodded with a tight smile, then left.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ──────

The post-qualifying press conference was routine until it wasn’t.

A woman with too-white teeth and a smug smile leaned into her mic. She wasn’t with F1 media. Not really.

“Great quali, Kimi,” she purred. “You’ve been quite impressive this season. Seems like you’re adapting quickly to the F1 lifestyle — fast cars, jet-setting, glamorous weekends…”

He nodded once. She continued, voice light but loaded.

“…Just wondering, with all the attention and, let’s say, expectations around young drivers and their image, do you ever feel pressure to — hm — upgrade your personal life to match the brand?”

A few chuckles from the room. Microphones crackled. The other drivers turned to look at him.

He knew what she meant.

She meant her.

He sat up straighter. Calm. Still. But his voice cut like a blade.

“Are you asking if my girlfriend doesn’t fit the aesthetic you expect?”

The woman blinked. “Oh, I didn’t mean—”

“Because that’s what you just implied.”

“No, I—”

“She’s not the one who needs upgrading,” he said, firm and deliberate. “She's smart. She’s grounded. She reminds me that there's more to life than this bubble. And if that doesn’t match your ‘brand,’ then maybe it’s your idea of success that needs to be rethought.”

Silence. Heavy and uncomfortable.

He didn’t smile. Didn’t offer a wink or a joke to smooth it over.

He just sat there, eyes locked on her like he dared her to speak again.

The moderator quickly moved on, but the damage — or maybe the justice — was done.

Clips went viral before the press conference ended.

And later that night, when she opened Twitter and saw the clip — Kimi Antonelli, eyes sharp, voice unwavering — defending her against the world she feared…

She didn’t call him.

But she showed up, cheeks pink from the cold, and whispered, “Thank you.”

He didn’t say anything, just pulled her into his arms like he’d been waiting all week.

“You didn’t have to do that, Kimi,” she said softly. “I didn’t ask you to defend me like that. I never wanted to cause you any trouble…”

He took a deep breath, shaking his head, guilt creeping into his chest. “I didn’t do it for trouble. I did it for you.” His hand brushed her arm, soft but desperate. “You’re not a distraction. You’re not a burden. You’re… you’re everything. You make me feel alive.”

The tears she’d been holding back slipped down her cheeks, and Kimi’s heart twisted in his chest. She looked so small, so vulnerable in this big, overwhelming world she didn’t ask to be a part of.

“I told you once,” he murmured, voice rough. “I don’t care if you don’t fit this world. You fit with me.”

She shook her head, sniffling. “But… I’m not like them. I don’t know how to… how to be the girlfriend you’re supposed to have. I’m just—”

“Stop.” Kimi wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. “You’re everything I need. You’re exactly who I need. And if I have to fight every damn person in this world to keep you — then that’s what I’ll do. I’m not in this for the ‘perfect’ girlfriend. I’m in this for you.”

She collapsed into his chest then, shaking as sobs wracked her body. Kimi held her close, his arms wrapping around her like he was afraid she might disappear if he let go.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t belong. I just… I just wanted to protect you. I didn’t want you to think you were alone in this.”

She squeezed him tighter, the tears soaking into his shirt, but for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel so alone.

“I don’t need anyone but you, Kimi,” she whispered against his chest, voice muffled. “I never did. I was just scared... I was scared I wasn’t enough for you.”

Kimi pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You’re more than enough. You’re exactly what I need. Don’t ever doubt that.”

For the first time in weeks, they were both quiet — no more doubts, no more words left unsaid. They simply stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting everything else fade away.

And when she finally looked up at him, her eyes swollen but sincere, Kimi knew:

It didn’t matter if she fit into his world or not.

They fit with each other.

And that was all that ever mattered.

[slutforvoldy]

“ DRIVEN TO YOU. ” ( kimi antonelli ! )

SUMMARY: the reader swore that she will never fall for a driver—but fate has a way of forcing you to break the rules you made to protect your heart.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: enemies to lovers, lots of banter, chaotic timeline, mentions death, mentions crashes

pairing: kimi antonelli x female!reader

FLASHBACK – EIGHT YEARS AGO Abu Dhabi Grand Prix – Final Lap

THE WORLD WAS on its feet.

The sky was painted in orange fire and smoke as the sun set over Yas Marina, casting long shadows across the pit lane. Your fingers curled around the armrest of the VIP paddock seat, knuckles white.

"Dad’s gonna win," You whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible over the roar of engines.

And he was.

He was flying down the straight, purple sectors lighting up the timing screen. His name is in bold gold. Your heart raced as you clutched the little plush your dad gave you before every race.

Then came the scream.

Not yours. The tires. The engine. The crowd. The silence.

The screen flickered and cut to the on-board camera. Then off.

“Red flag! Red flag!”

You stood, too stunned to cry.

The car had flipped—rolled once, then twice, before slamming into the barriers. Sparks. Fire. Smoke.

You didn’t remember how you got to the hospital. Only the cold sterility of the waiting room. Your mother holding you too tight. Reporters outside. The security trying to keep them out.

And the doctor. White coat, clipboard. Words you couldn’t understand until your mom collapsed into sobs.

He didn’t make it.

Your father. The world champion. Your hero.

Gone.

You were only ten. Too young to lose him.

That was the moment you made the promise.

I’ll never love another driver. I won’t love anything that can be taken from me like that ever again.

Never again.

PRESENT DAY — MONACO

“You’re coming,” Ollie insisted, holding the door of the Haas motorhome open like it was a threat.

“I’m not.”

“You owe me. I was there for your university showcase, remember? Now you show up for my FP1 debrief.”

“You’re evil.”

“I’m your best friend.”

“Same thing.”

Reluctantly, you followed him inside. The scent of rubber, adrenaline, and overpriced coffee clung to the air. You tried not to look too long at the cars—especially not at the one with “ANTONELLI” written in bold on the side of the W16.

That was the other problem.

Kimi Antonelli.

Ollie’s best friend. The new golden boy at Mercedes. A name with pressure carved into it and a future brighter than the sun. And a complete pain in your ass.

Both of you had met once. That was all it took to decide you couldn’t stand each other.

FLASHBACK — A FEW MONTHS AGO

Your memory of your first encounter with Kimi still made you cringe. You were just a shadow in the paddock, trying to stay out of the way, when Kimi had walked up to you, all confidence and arrogance wrapped in a Mercedes jacket. His piercing gaze had swept over you in a way that made you feel like you were under a microscope. And, of course, that’s when you opened your mouth.

“Seriously, who are you? Some kind of new poster boy for Mercedes?”

He had laughed, his eyes glinting with mischief. “No. I’m just the guy who’s going to take your precious Ollie down a peg.”

“Right. Like that’s gonna happen.”

You didn't mean to sound so dismissive, but something about him rubbed you the wrong way—his smug attitude, the way he carried himself as if he was already the champion of F1.

“I’m Kimi, by the way,” he said, extending his hand with a sly grin.

“I don’t care.”

He had chuckled and dropped his hand, unbothered. “Well, you’re cute when you’re mad. You should smile more.”

You stared at him, speechless, and muttered, “I hate you.”

The smirk never left his face. “Likewise.”

PRESENT DAY

You didn’t look up when he entered the lounge, but you felt him—like static in the air.

“I know that glare,” he said, grabbing a water bottle. “Who pissed you off this time?”

“You, probably.”

“I haven’t said a word yet.”

“Exactly.”

He sat across from you, stretching like a cat who knew he was being watched.

“Take a shower, Antonelli. I can smell you from here.”

He smirked. “Care to join me?”

“In your dreams.”

“You’re not denying it’s your dream too.”

“I’m denying everything about you.”

“You always do.”

You groaned. “I don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why everyone fawns over you. You’re not that good looking, alright?”

“So you admit I’m good looking?”

“What? N-no. Never.”

“Too late. Already heard it.”

“You’re impossible...” You started. “It’s impossible not to hate you.”

“It’s impossible not to hate you,” he mocked in a voice that made you throw a cushion at him.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to murder me but also like… you want me.”

He paused, just for a second, eyes flickering over your face. “That’s oddly specific.”

You stood abruptly. “I need air.”

“Running again?”

“No. Leaving, because you’re unbearable.”

“You sure it’s not because you like me?”

You froze in the hallway, heart lurching. “I don’t like you.”

He stared at you, gaze unreadable. “You sure?”

“You piss me off.”

“You intrigue me.”

“Go to hell, Antonelli.”

“I’ll save you a seat.”

BARCELONA — A FEW DAYS LATER

At Barcelona, the media pen was buzzing with post-race chatter, and you were standing impatiently, waiting for Ollie to finish his interviews. But before you could zone out, a familiar voice broke through the crowd.

Kimi, leaning against a nearby wall, smirked as he crossed his arms. “Didn’t know the devil followed races now.”

You didn’t even glance at him, eyes still fixed on the chaos around you. “Didn’t know children were allowed in the paddock.”

He took a step closer, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. “You’re cute when you’re mean.”

Your patience snapped. “Yeah, well, I’m cute when I punch people, too.” Without waiting for his response, you spun on your heel and stormed off, your heart racing. You didn’t look back, but you could practically feel his smirk following you.

MONTREAL – A FEW WEEKS LATER

A few weeks later, while you were both waiting for their drivers’ meeting in the paddock, Kimi leaned casually against the wall, watching the bustle of activity around them. You stood nearby, focused on your phone, trying to ignore him.

Kimi’s voice cut through her concentration. “You know, if you ever want any advice on how to look less miserable, I’m your guy.”

You shot him a sideways glance. “Oh, right, you’re the expert on looking happy while being an arrogant prick.”

He grinned. “It’s an art, really.”

“Yeah,” You said with a sharp exhale. “A sad, sorry art.”

Kimi’s smile only widened. “Maybe I like making you mad. Makes you more fun.”

You glared at him. "I’m not here to entertain you, Antonelli."

He leaned in slightly, voice lowering. “Too bad. You’re way more entertaining when you’re pissed off.”

You crossed your arms, trying to look unaffected. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” he said, his voice teasing. “But you still don’t hate me enough to leave.”

SPIELBERG – A FEW DAYS LATER

During Free Practice, you and Kimi were both standing near the track, watching the cars zoom by. Kimi, ever the teasing presence, couldn’t resist.

“You know, you look better when you’re focused on something other than me,” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I wasn’t aware I was ever focused on you.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he replied, a mocking tone in his voice. “But I’m pretty sure your mind just doesn’t shut up about me.”

“Oh please,” You shot back, “My mind’s too busy thinking about more important things than your annoying face.”

Kimi chuckled, leaning closer, his voice lowering slightly. “Well, I don’t mind being the thing you think about, even if it’s only in passing.”

You groaned, knowing he was trying to get under your skin. But as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t help but notice how distracting he was at that moment.

That night, after another grueling FP3 session, you found yourself standing outside the garages, the chill of the night air cutting through your jacket. You were exhausted, but you needed a few moments to breathe before heading back to your hotel.

But you hadn’t expected to see him.

But there he was, leaning casually against the wall, his Mercedes jacket unzipped, his arms folded.

“Thought you’d run off already,” he said, his voice carrying the same playful tone as always.

“I’m not running. I’m staying away from you,” you replied, your voice sharp.

He raised an eyebrow. “Still mad I beat Ollie in qualifying?”

You couldn’t hold back the frustration anymore. “God, it’s not about that,” you snapped. “You always think it’s about you.”

Kimi straightened, stepping closer. “What is it really, [L/N]? Why do you hate me so much?”

“I hate Formula 1. I hate you.”

There was a pause—a heavy silence that lingered like a storm cloud. He couldn’t have expected your words to cut so deep.

“Why?” he asked, his voice quieter this time. “Did your ex used to race or something?” He chuckled

You froze. His words hit too close to home. Your body trembled as the memories came rushing back.

“My dad was a driver,” You said in a raw whisper, barely able to contain the emotion. “He died in a crash. I watched it happen. That’s why I hate this world. And you—” You shook your head, blinking furiously to hold back the tears. “I swore I’d never love anything that could be taken from me like that.”

For a moment, there was no sound. Just the rush of blood in your ears.

Kimi took a small step forward, lowering his voice. “I didn’t know.”

“You wouldn’t have known,” you whispered back.

“I’m sorry,” Kimi said, his voice barely audible.

“Don’t. Don’t apologize. It doesn’t change anything,” You said, wiping your face.

And then, as if to put distance between the two of you, you crossed your arms and said, “By the way, nothing is gonna change between us because of this, okay?”

His gaze softened, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

Because they both knew everything had changed.

They hadn’t spoken about that night.

Not in Silverstone, not in the messages Kimi never sent, and certainly not now—walking past each other in the paddock like nothing had changed. But it had.

You felt it every time he looked at you.

It wasn’t hatred anymore. It wasn’t even annoyance.

It was knowing.

Knowing your grief. Knowing the promise you made. Knowing how close he was to breaking it.

And worse? You were letting him.

That terrified you more than the memory of the crash.

Ollie had finished P5. Kimi took P2. You found yourself in the back of the paddock, waiting for Ollie, when you saw Kimi approach—sweaty, still in his fireproofs, a towel around his neck.

“You came,” he said, not smug for once. Just surprised.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I came for Ollie.”

“Right,” he said, stepping closer. “You always hang around where I am, for Ollie.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t move away. “I’m not here for you, Antonelli.”

“Sure you’re not,” he said softly, and for once, there was no edge.

Just something warm. Dangerous.

You looked away. “You still drive like a maniac.”

“You still look at me like you want to throw something.”

“I usually do.”

But the banter had lost its bite.

SPA – A FEW WEEKS LATER

After the red flag incident at Spa, you found yourself back in the garage, trying to shake off the trembling feeling you got from seeing the crash footage. Your hands were still shaking, and you kept your head low, hoping no one would notice. But Kimi noticed. He always noticed.

As you turned to leave the garage, Kimi followed you, his footsteps purposeful and steady. He caught up with you just outside, where the noise of the race seemed to fade, and there was only the sound of breathing.

"You good?" His voice was low, almost careful.

You didn’t answer immediately, unsure of how to explain the way the sight of the crash rattled you. He waited, not pushing, but not walking away either. It was a rare moment for Kimi—showing concern without making a joke.

“I’m fine,” you finally muttered, but the words felt weak.

“You’re lying.” His bluntness was almost comforting. Kimi wasn’t one for small talk or pity. He was straightforward, and there was something about that honesty that made you want to open up.

“I don’t... I don’t like seeing crashes,” you admitted quietly, almost as if you hadn’t intended to say it out loud. “It reminds me of... something.”

Kimi didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, he stepped a little closer, his expression unreadable.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked simply. No teasing, no sarcasm—just a genuine offer to listen.

For a split second, you almost said yes, but you swallowed the words. "No," you whispered, shaking your head. "I just need some air."

Without another word, Kimi simply nodded, respecting your space. But there was a subtle softness in his gaze that wasn’t there before. A quiet understanding made your chest tighten.

Kimi found you again in the paddock the next week. And the next. Every time, a little softer, a little less like a contest.

He’d offer you a water bottle after a tough session, like he cared but didn’t know how to show it. He’d pass you a jacket when you stayed too long in the cold, only to have you stare at it with suspicion before you wrapped it around your shoulders.

None of these moments were confessions. But they were becoming something.

One evening, after another sweaty FP3 session, he handed you a bottle of water. “You look like you’re gonna faint.”

You stared at him, not blinking. “And I suppose that’s a you problem?”

“You sure?” Kimi smirked. “’Cause I’m concerned.”

You narrowed your eyes. “And I suppose you think I’ll just melt into your arms now?”

“Maybe.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “Get lost.”

In another night, when Ollie left to debrief with his team, Kimi found you lingering in the garage. Alone.

“Stay in here too long, and you’ll freeze to death,” he said, throwing a jacket over your shoulders.

“You’ve been watching me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Kimi shot back, eyes avoiding yours. “Just—take the jacket.”

You didn’t respond, but for the first time, you didn’t push it away.

Eventually, the boundaries between hate and something else got thinner.

You would never admit it but truth be told, you liked him in ways you couldn’t explain—especially when you remembered the promise you made to yourself. So you hated him instead.

Sometimes, you pass each other in the paddock tunnels, and Kimi would mutter something under his breath — usually sarcastic, occasionally sincere — and you’d snap back with something equally sharp, but neither walked away fast enough.

There was the time he stood behind you in the coffee queue and, without asking, added an extra sugar to your cup before handing it over like it was no big deal. “You always forget,” he said, without looking you in the eye. You didn’t remember ever telling him how you liked your coffee.

Another time, you tripped over a cable while backing up from a chaotic post-race moment, and Kimi instinctively caught you by the waist, steadying you. His hand stayed there longer than it needed to. Long enough that when he finally let go, her skin still felt warm.

There were more moments like that. Subtle, unspoken exchanges chipped away at the distance between them. Like when he unexpectedly stood next to you, post-race. Neither of you spoke, but just having him there—his quiet presence beside you as both of you pretended to ignore the world around you—was enough. It was different than before. More comfortable. More... real.

You tried to ignore the growing feelings that you couldn’t quite shake off. It was stupid. You hated him. You had to. He was an F1 driver. He lived a life that was dangerous and unpredictable. He reminded you too much of what you had lost, what you had sworn to never let back into your life. And yet, with every passing day, it became harder to deny the pull between the two of you.

You still hated him. But there was something else, too.

Something you couldn’t name yet, something you weren’t ready to confront.

After a tense week of press events and interviews, you and Kimi found yourselves in an unusual situation: standing on the roof of the Mercedes garage. It was late, the stars bright against the clear sky, and the bustling noise of the paddock below felt far away.

Kimi was leaning on the railing, his eyes on the horizon. You stood next to him, still trying to figure out why you didn’t feel like pushing him away.

"What's your deal?" you asked, your voice breaking the silence.

He didn’t look at you, but there was a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "What do you mean?"

"You’re not the same," you said, unsure if you even meant to say it aloud. "After that day, you're... different."

Kimi let out a slow breath, then finally glanced at you. “I didn’t expect you to break down in front of me, you know. But I’m not gonna pretend I don’t notice things.”

You shrugged, feeling the familiar guard come up. “I don't need your pity.”

But Kimi shook his head. “You don’t have to act tough all the time. It’s alright to let people help.”

The words hung in the air between them, and for the first time in a long time, the walls you'd built up felt a little thinner. He didn’t need to say anything more. Kimi was never one for comforting words, but somehow, his presence was more than enough.

“I don’t need your help,” you muttered, but the way you said it was different this time—softer.

Kimi raised an eyebrow. “Then why do you look like you need it?”

You didn’t answer, but for a brief second, you allowed yourself to lean closer, just a fraction. He didn’t pull away.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, the admission more vulnerable than you ever intended it to be.

MONZA – A FEW WEEKS LATER

You were in the Haas hospitality lounge when it happened. Watching from the screen.

Lap 27. Wet track. Cold tires.

Kimi was fighting for P3. Fast, aggressive, typical Kimi. Then—

The slide.

The barrier.

The silence.

Yellow flag. No movement from Car 12.

“No,” you whispered.

Your heart dropped into your stomach as the screen cut to the crash angle. His car crumpled against the wall. Debris was scattered across the track.

“No,” you said louder, this time running.

Ollie shouted after you. People turned. Cameras clicked, but you didn’t care.

You were already sprinting toward the medical center, soaked by rain, panic building with every step.

Not again.

Not him.

Please, not him.

You burst through the doors of the medical center, breathing heavily. You almost stumbled when you saw him sitting there, his helmet off and looking slightly dazed but not seriously hurt. Relief flooded through you, and you rushed to his side.

He looked up, eyes unfocused for a moment, before he smirked. "You came to see me?"

"Don't get used to it," you muttered, your voice betraying how shaken you were. "I just—"

"Yeah," Kimi interrupted with a teasing grin, "You care. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone."

“I thought—” your voice broke, tears spilling. “God, I thought you were gone.”

He stood, pain shooting through him, but he moved anyway. “Hey, hey, I’m okay.”

You clutched his arm, sobbing, forehead against his chest.

You swallowed, suddenly aware of how close you were. “I just... I couldn’t lose someone else,” you whispered, barely audible.

Kimi's smirk softened, and he reached out, placing a hand on your arm. "You don’t have to. I’m not going anywhere."

For once, the teasing was gone. He wasn’t making light of the situation, but instead, offering something far more genuine: reassurance.

The quiet tension between them melted, and in that moment, for the first time, you let yourself relax.

“I should’ve stayed away from all this,” you whispered.

“I know.”

“I told myself I would.”

“I know.”

“I swore I’d never fall for a driver. Never again.”

Kimi fully turned to you, his gaze steady. “But you did.”

Silence.

Then, barely audible: “Yeah.”

A breath. His thumb brushed against your face.

“I was scared of you,” you admitted. “You reminded me of everything I lost.”

“You still scare me,” he said. “You made me feel things I wasn’t ready for.”

“I don’t want to lose you like I lost him.”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “You won’t. But even if—if that day comes—I’d rather have you now than regret never letting you in.”

A tear slid down your cheek. You didn’t wipe it away.

“You make it really hard to hate you.”

“I’ll take that as progress,” he said with a small smile.

You sniffed. “By the way, nothing’s changed. I still hate you.”

He laughed softly. “Of course you do.”

But they both knew.

Everything had changed.

[cheftsunoda]

he put me first — ka12 (part two)

smau + blurbs

kimi antonelli x !estranged leclerc sister reader

yn always fell on the back burner for her family, never truly seen. her father was the only one who ever made her feel like she mattered. when he passed, the distance between her and her siblings—charles, arthur, lorenzo—only grew wider. she felt more like a shadow than a sister. desperate to escape the weight of monaco and the name that never really felt like hers, she left for italy with nothing but a suitcase and a tearful phone call to her godparents. that was five years ago.

a year into her new life in bologna, she met a boy. kimi antonelli—soft-spoken, kind-eyed, and utterly unlike anyone she’d ever known. they were just kids when they met, but something about him felt like home. they’ve been inseparable ever since. now, five years later, both 18 years old, yn and kimi have been together for three years. he’s the only person who’s ever truly seen her. but everything changes when kimi is offered a spot in formula 1. because standing on that grid? is her brother. and kimi has no idea who she really is.

fc : darianka on ig

part one here

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present day (IG public)

its_yn

575,090 likes.

its_yn : short little trip to celebrate this sweet angel getting an f1 seat. so proud of you my boy.

tagged : kimi.antonelli

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user has limited comment access.

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kimi.antonelli : we are here to celebrate you as well, amore mio. the prettiest girl in the world<3

liked by its_yn

veronica.antonelli : i miei bellissimi bambini. divertitevi tantissimo. (my beautiful kids. have so much fun)

liked by its_yn and kimi.antonelli

antonelli_1807 : molto orgoglioso di voi due! (very proud of you both!)

liked by its_yn and kimi.antonelli

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arthur_leclerc liked a post from its_yn

26s ago

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kimi.antonelli

liked by mercedesamgf1, charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 & 1,1509,007 others.

kimi.antonelli : trip to celebrate my gf being so beautiful <3

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its_yn : oml ur making me blushhhhh. love you to the moon and back.

liked by kimi.antonelli

kimi.antonelli : love you even more than that, pretty girl:)

username00 : idec that she is a leclerc- this is so fucking cute.

mercedesamgf1 : SO cute! Can't wait to see you both!

liked by its_yn and kimi.antonelli

georgerussell63 : Soak up all the vacation time now while you can, kid! Welcome Aboard.

liked by its_yn and kimi.antonelli

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The late afternoon sun poured through the balcony doors, turning the whole room golden. The ocean breeze fluttered the gauzy curtains, and somewhere down on the beach, a kid was laughing. Kimi’s arm was draped around my waist, his skin warm from the sun, his breathing soft and steady beside me. It was quiet. Safe. One of those rare moments where the world felt like it had finally stopped spinning.

I had my phone in one hand, scrolling lazily through the comments on our latest posts — his vacation dump with me in it, my photo of the seashells he’d carefully lined along my thigh. It was the first time we hadn’t hidden. No cropping. No cryptic captions. Just… us. I smiled to myself, heat rising in my cheeks all over again when I reread his caption.

"Trip to celebrate my girlfriend being so beautiful."

And then everything stopped. Right beneath the hundreds of likes, just above a flurry of usernames I didn’t recognize, there it was. My stomach dropped. I refreshed the screen, heart pounding now.

charles_leclerc liked this.

I flipped to my post.

arthur_leclerc liked your post.

No. No, no, no. My chest tightened. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The soft, calm world we were wrapped in shattered in a second. I sat up too quickly, nearly kicking the blanket off the bed. My phone trembled in my hands.

“Woah,” Kimi said behind me, still half-draped across the bed. “What’s wrong?”

I didn’t answer. My mind was spinning, spiraling into panic.

He sat up slowly, reaching for my hand. “Babe?”

“They saw,” I whispered. “They know.”

Kimi frowned. “Who saw what?”

I shoved the phone into his hand, my heart in my throat. “Look. Look who liked them.”

He glanced down, blinking at the screen. “Charles Leclerc? And… Arthur? Wait—what’s the big deal?”

I stared at him. He blinked again. “Do you know them or something?”

A laugh — broken and tight — escaped my throat. “Yeah. You could say that.”

Kimi tilted his head, confused, concern starting to flicker in his eyes. “YN…”

I sat back on my heels, tugging the blanket over my legs like it could shield me from the weight of what I was about to say.

“They’re my brothers.”

He stilled.

“Arthur and Charles,” I continued, voice cracking. “They’re my brothers. I’m… I’m a Leclerc.”

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at me like I’d knocked the wind out of him. I rushed ahead, the words tumbling now. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to change things. Because when I left Monaco, I left them. I left the name. The life. All of it. I was just the kid no one really noticed, the youngest who never quite fit in, and after our dad died…” My voice faltered. “I couldn’t breathe in that house anymore. So I left. And I never told anyone where I went. Until you.”

Kimi was still staring. Not cold. Not angry. Just… absorbing.

I tried to pull away. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you earlier. You must think I’m—”

His arms were around me before I could finish. Firm. Steady. Safe. He pulled me right into his chest and held me like I wasn’t broken or selfish or anything I feared he might now see me as.

“I don’t care what your last name is,” he said quietly. “I care about you. The girl I met on that street in Bologna. The one who listened to my rants about karting and let me put seashells all over her and laughs at my stupid bucket hats.”

I laughed, watery and shaking.

“You’re YN to me. And if your brothers are only just realizing how incredible you are, that’s on them. You don’t owe them anything.”

“I was scared they’d take this away from me,” I whispered. “That I’d lose you too.”

He leaned back just enough to meet my eyes. “They don’t get to take you from me. Ever.”

The weight of five years lifted from my chest like a tide pulling back. And in the middle of it all — ocean breeze, golden light, and this boy who never once let me fall — I finally, finally let myself breathe.

-

random fluff (yn and kimi enjoying the rest of their time before the season starts)

Maggie had her tiny hand wrapped around mine and Kimi’s, dragging us through the gates with all the intensity.

“It’s the big blue slide first!” she declared. “No time for baby rides.”

Kimi groaned dramatically beside me. “Why am I doing this again?”

“Because you love your sister,” I teased, “and because I promised you frozen mango slush.”

“Bribery,” he muttered.

“Highly effective bribery,” I replied with a grin.

We spent the afternoon soaked — racing Maggie down slides, clinging to inner tubes in the wave pool, and drifting through the lazy river while she babbled about turtles and pop stars and the time Kimi cried because he lost his water wings at six.

“Maggie,” Kimi gasped, scandalized.

She beamed. “She’s practically family, she deserves to know!”

My heart ached — in the best, softest way. When she finally passed out in the backseat on the way home, her curls tangled against my shoulder, I felt Kimi’s eyes on me.

“You’re good with her,” he murmured.

I glanced over, brushing Maggie’s hair off her face. “I think for the first time in my life… I actually feel like I belong somewhere.”

He didn’t say anything. Just reached over and took my hand, like he already knew.

-

Everything hurt. The shoot was dragging, the sun was brutal, and someone kept trying to convince me a fur bolero was a summer staple. I was seconds away from breaking into tears when the photographer called for a break. I dropped into a chair like it owed me something, balancing a water bottle against my forehead, trying not to scream.

“Long day?”

My heart stuttered. I looked up — and there he was. Kimi. Wearing my favorite soft white tee, curls messy from the heat, and holding a massive bouquet of pink peonies. My favorite flowers.

“What—how—Kimi?”

He just smiled like this was the most normal thing in the world. “Thought you could use a break. Also brought snacks and these.”

He pulled my cloud-print fuzzy slides out of his bag. I could’ve cried.

“My heels—”

“Yeah, I could hear you cursing them from the parking lot,” he said with a grin, crouching down to take them off for me.

I stared at him as he worked — this beautiful, quiet boy who just… showed up for me.

“You’re unreal,” I whispered.

He looked up, his fingers brushing over my ankle. “Nah. Just yours.”

-

Dinner with Kimi’s family always felt like home.

His mom had made too much food again, his dad was yelling (lovingly) about god knows what, and Maggie was next to me rating the fashion choices of her classmates on a scale of “icon” to “absolutely not.”

“You’re coming to my school day, right?” she asked, poking my arm.

I smiled, nudging her gently. “Obviously. I need to judge everyone who tries to talk to you.”

She grinned like I’d just handed her the moon.

Kimi leaned in from the other side of the table, whispering, “I think she likes you better than me now.”

I smirked. “She has standards.”

Later, we drifted outside into the garden, where fairy lights tangled in the trees and crickets hummed in the distance. Kimi pulled me toward the corner where it was just us, quiet and warm and glowing under the stars.

“You fit here,” he murmured, his forehead resting against mine.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’ve never fit anywhere like this before.”

His hand found mine, our fingers lacing together in that way that always made me feel steady.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, and something in me finally, finally settled.

I leaned up to kiss him, slow and sure, while the world kept spinning — and for once, I wasn’t trying to outrun it.

-

I barely made it through the front gate before Maggie came flying at me in a blur of pink and glitter.

“YOU CAME!” she shrieked, wrapping her arms around my waist so tightly I almost lost balance. “You actually came!”

I laughed, crouching down to hug her properly. “Of course I came. I wouldn’t miss your big day for anything.”

She looked me over with wide eyes and a proud little grin. “You look like you belong in a movie.”

Kimi arrived behind me just in time to catch that, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I told her she looked like a model this morning, but I guess it means more coming from you.”

Maggie shrugged and grabbed my hand immediately. “She is a model. And also my best friend. You’re just my brother.”

Kimi let out a very dramatic gasp, but I couldn’t stop giggling as she dragged me inside, clutching my hand like she was scared someone would try to take me away.

The classroom was filled with nervous parents, squeaky chairs, and chaotic projects made of pipe cleaners and too much glue. Maggie introduced me to every single classmate like I was her golden ticket to popularity.

“This is YN. She lives in Italy. She models for like... real brands. She helped me pick out this outfit too.”

When the teacher came by, smiling warmly, Maggie puffed out her chest. “This is my special guest, YN. And that’s my brother, but mostly YN.”

I glanced at Kimi, who just lifted his hands like, what can I say? I squeezed Maggie’s hand and let her lead me to her desk, where she proudly showed off a drawing of me, Kimi, and her — with hearts scribbled around us and a speech bubble over my head that said “best ever.”

Something about it made my chest ache. The kind of ache that came from feeling wanted in a way I hadn’t in a very long time. Later, during story time, Maggie curled into my side without hesitation, resting her head on my shoulder and humming softly while the teacher read out loud. Her small fingers stayed tangled in mine the whole time. She didn’t even look at Kimi when he waved from across the room. I was her person right now. And that meant something. Afterward, as we walked back to the car, Kimi gently reached up and tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. His eyes were soft, serious.

“She really loves you,” he said.

“I really love her,” I whispered.

“You’re… really good to her, you know?”

I looked down, smiling to myself. “She makes me feel like I’m someone worth being around. That’s kind of rare.”

Kimi stopped walking, pulling me in by the hand. “You are so worth being around, YN. You’re… it’s not just Maggie. It’s all of us.”

I blinked up at him, heart doing that messy, fluttery thing.

“I’m glad she has you,” he added. “But I’m really glad I do too.”

-

It was just after dinner when Maggie slipped onto the couch beside me, fresh from her bath and wrapped in a towel that was slightly too big, her damp curls still dripping against her shoulders. She leaned her head on my arm like she always did when she was working up to something.

“Mags?” I asked, smiling.

She looked up at me with those big eyes and whispered, “Can you sleep over tonight?”

I blinked. “Tonight?”

She nodded, fiddling with the edge of her towel. “I just feel better when you’re here. And it was the best day ever and I want it to keep going.”

I felt something stir in my chest — that soft ache again, the one I always got when she did things like this. It never failed to knock the air out of me that someone could need me this much. That I could be someone’s safe place.

“I’d love to sleep over,” I whispered back.

She squealed, launching herself at me with damp arms and the sweetest giggle, shouting, “Kimi! She said yes!”

He called back from the kitchen, “If she takes the good side of the bed again, I’m filing a complaint!”

“Too bad!” she shouted, already running down the hallway to get her stuffed animals ready.

I stood up, still smiling to myself when I heard footsteps behind me. Kimi’s mom. She gave me that soft, familiar smile and walked over, drying her hands on a tea towel.

“She’s so attached to you,” she said gently, nodding toward the hall where Maggie had disappeared. “Honestly, we all are.”

I looked down, a little flustered. “She’s… she means the world to me. All of you do.”

She reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear — something my own mother hadn’t done in years.

“You know,” she said softly, “I always wondered what it would be like if we had another daughter.”

I swallowed hard.

“And now I don’t wonder anymore.”

That did it — my eyes stung, throat tight with emotion I hadn’t expected.

“I never really felt like I had a family before,” I admitted quietly. “Not one that saw me. Not like this.”

She pulled me into a hug that felt like everything I had been missing since I was a little girl.

“Well,” she whispered, “then I hope you know we see you. We love you. And you’ve always got a home here, YN.”

I buried my face in her shoulder, trying not to cry like a baby. And later, when Maggie tucked herself into my side in her tiny twin bed, whispering sleepover secrets and asking if we could do this every Friday forever, I just held her close and whispered, “Yeah, baby. Every Friday. Forever if you want.”

Because I finally had something I never thought I’d have again. A family. One that chose me. One I chose right back.

-

I was sitting on the couch, half-listening to Maggie and Kimi playing quietly nearby. Maggie was building a tower with blocks, and Kimi was patiently helping her, his smile soft and warm.

Suddenly, Maggie looked up at Kimi with those big, serious eyes and asked, “Kimiiiii?”

He turned to her, smiling. “Yes, Maggie?”

“Will YN be my sister someday?”

Before he could answer, she tilted her head and added, “And will you marry her?”

My heart stopped. I froze, pretending to be engrossed in the magazine on my lap, but I was listening.

Kimi chuckled softly, brushing a stray curl from Maggie’s forehead. “Well, YN is already like a sister to you, isn’t she?”

Maggie nodded quickly, her eyes shining. “Yeah!”

“And marrying YN?” Kimi said with a grin, “That’s a pretty big question.”

Maggie smiled wide and looked at me. “I think you should! Because then we’d all be family forever.”

Kimi pulled her into a hug and laughed quietly. “I think that sounds like a perfect plan.”

He glanced over at me with that gentle smile that always made my heart flutter. Tears prickled my eyes.

Later, when Kimi caught my eye, he whispered, “Looks like Maggie’s already making plans for us.”

I smiled back, my heart full. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

-

its_yn

liked by carmenmmundt, kimi.antonelli, arthur_leclerc & 1,875,054 others.

its_yn : emptying out the ol camera roll

-

dior : we are in LOVE with you

liked by its_yn

its_yn : the feeling is mutual

mercedesamgf1 : photo dump game - ELITE

liked by its_yn and kimi.antonelli

username00 : they r so in love it is adorable

carmenmmundt : So so cute, YN! Can't wait to see you again:)

liked by its_yn

its_yn : same here! maybe we can beat kimi and george in padel again??

georgerussell63 : this never happened - she is LYINGGGG

liked by its_yn and kimi.antonelli

its_yn : whatever helps you sleep at night georgieeee

kimi.antonelli : if you adore her

liked by its_yn

its_yn : dior her<3

username15 : god fuck they are too cute

kimi.antonelli : also maggie says thank you for including her in the photo dump

liked by its_yn

its_yn : tell her next time it'll be all maggie no kimi

liked by kimi.antonelli

kimi.antonelli : BOOOOOOOO

-

(enough fluff lets dive into drama shall we)

We were sitting together in the quiet of the evening, the soft hum of the city below barely reaching us. The mood had shifted — heavier now. Kimi looked at me with a weight in his eyes I hadn’t seen before.

“YN,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully, “there’s the F1 75 event coming up. It’s a big deal for me… for my career. And, well...I want you there."

My heart clenched. Just the thought of them made my throat tighten. The past I’d been trying to leave behind, the family I’d pushed away — all right there in front of me.

Kimi reached for my hand, his grip gentle but steady. “I want you to come with me. I want to be with you through this, but I know it’s going to be hard.”

I looked down, swallowing the lump in my throat. “It’s not just hard, Kimi. It’s… painful. Seeing them again, being around them when I’ve spent years trying to forget, trying to heal.”

He nodded, eyes soft with understanding. “I don’t want to push you. But I also don’t want to hide this part of my life from you. You’re important to me — I want you there, by my side.”

Tears pricked at my eyes. “I’m scared. Scared they’ll see me and remember everything I wanted to escape. What if they don’t understand why I left?”

Kimi’s voice was steady, filled with quiet strength. “Then I’ll be there. We’ll face it together. You’re not alone.”

I took a shaky breath and met his gaze, the love and sincerity in his eyes steadying me.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll come. But only if you promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“That we take it slow. And if it gets too much, we walk away. Together.”

He smiled softly, brushing a tear from my cheek.

“Deal. We face it on our terms. Together.”

For the first time in a long time, I felt the courage to confront the past — because I wasn’t alone anymore.

-

mercedesamgf1

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, georgerussell63 and 890,005 others.

mercedesamgf1 : A few of our favorite faces at the F175 event tonight!

tagged : georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli, carmenmmundt and its_yn

-

username00 : WAIT— her and CHARLES are in the same room?????? this is not a drill.

username15 : not kimi looking like a lovesick golden retriever 😭 the way he’s holding her 😭😭😭

username20 : the way this was probably so hard for her but she showed up for kimi- they are endgame

username7 : okay but imagine being charles rn watching your estranged baby sister SERVE on your home turf

username18 : charles & arthur liked the post and they’re IN THE ROOM WITH HER??? can someone get me popcorn

username9 : someone film charles' reaction to seeing her. I just know his jaw dropped

username15 : it did. video on twitter

username9 : damn the cameras were messy tonight

-

third person pov

The night sparkled under the bright lights of the red carpet, filled with the hum of anticipation and flashes from cameras. YN stood beside Kimi, her hand securely in his, the two of them a striking image against the backdrop of the buzzing crowd.

She felt grounded — partly because of Kimi’s calm presence, but also because of familiar faces nearby. George Russell and his girlfriend Carmen were just a few steps away, friendly smiles and warm eyes offering a safe haven in the whirlwind of the event. YN had grown close to them over the past months, their easy kindness a balm to the unease that still lingered beneath the surface.

She gave George a bright smile when their eyes met. “Hey, you two,” she greeted, nodding at Carmen as well, who responded with a welcoming wave.

“It’s good to see you again, YN,” Carmen said softly, squeezing her hand gently.

Their presence settled some of the nerves curling in her stomach, but YN’s charm was far from quiet. As Kimi led her further into the crowd, she effortlessly shifted into conversation mode, engaging other members of the team with a warm, genuine energy that made them listen.

Toto Wolff offered a nod of approval when she approached, and YN met his gaze with steady confidence. “We’re glad to have you around, YN. You fit right in.”

She laughed lightly, glancing over at Lando Norris, who was teasing Kimi. YN wove effortlessly into the banter, her smile radiant, her laughter genuine. Drivers and team members alike were drawn to her warmth and quick wit. Yet, just beyond the glowing lights and the lively chatter, two shadows lingered.

Charles Leclerc and Arthur stood apart, eyes locked on YN’s confident figure. Charles’s voice was low, almost reluctant. “Look at her… she’s nothing like I remembered.”

Arthur’s gaze was sharp, calculating. “She’s grown into someone unrecognizable. Strong. Controlled. Far from the girl who left.”

Charles exhaled quietly, his eyes lingering on YN as she laughed with Kimi and their friends. “She’s so grown, so beautiful.” he muttered, almost to himself, a mixture of awe and something heavier in his tone.

Arthur’s jaw tightened. “We need to be careful. She’s not just part of Kimi’s life now — she’s part of this world.”

Charles nodded, conflicted. “We thought we lost her. But now… she’s back. And she’s not the same.”

-

The buzz of the F175 event dimmed slightly as the ceremony broke for intermission. Waitstaff floated through the room with champagne flutes, soft jazz replacing the louder fanfare from earlier. Guests scattered into small pockets of conversation, the glow of chandeliers casting golden halos over them.

At the far side of the room, YN stood laughing gently with Carmen and a few designers from one of her recent shoots, her glass untouched in her hand, her dress catching the light like sea foam. She looked radiant—comfortable, even—but there was still a carefulness in her eyes. A subconscious vigilance she couldn’t quite shake. Across the room, Charles saw her.

She hadn’t noticed him yet. Her back was turned, head tilted as she smiled softly at something George said. Her laughter carried just far enough to reach his ears, and it hit him like a punch to the gut. She sounded older. Lighter. Like someone who had learned how to live without them.

He didn’t move at first, unsure, torn between years of guilt and the fear that she’d look through him like he was a stranger. But then—his feet shifted. He started toward her. One step. Then another. He only made it halfway across the floor before a hand landed firmly on his chest.

Charles blinked, startled by the wall of quiet steel in front of him—Kimi Antonelli. The younger man wasn’t scowling. He wasn’t raising his voice. But the warning in his posture, the steady calm in his eyes, spoke louder than words ever could.

“Don’t,” Kimi said softly.

Charles frowned, trying to peer past him. “I just want to talk to her.”

“She’s not ready,” Kimi replied, voice quiet but firm. “And I won’t let you catch her off guard. Not like this. Not here.”

For a second, Charles said nothing. He looked over Kimi’s shoulder again, at his little sister—now grown into someone he barely recognized. She was smiling as she reached for Carmen’s hand, showing her something on her phone. Oblivious to the man who had tried, far too late, to walk back into her life.

Kimi stepped slightly to the side, his body still angled in front of Charles as if daring him to try again. “You’ll speak to her when she wants to. Not when it suits you.”

Charles met his gaze and realized something then—that this wasn’t a teenage crush. Kimi wasn’t some placeholder or passing phase. He loved her. Fiercely. Enough to protect her from ghosts she hadn’t yet chosen to face. After a long, taut pause, Charles nodded once and stepped back.

Kimi didn’t move until he had fully turned away. Only then did he glance back toward YN, checking to make sure she was still deep in conversation—safe, unaware, untouched by the storm just barely avoided.

He exhaled and headed back toward her, the tension in his shoulders softening the moment he reached her side. She smiled up at him, not knowing what he had just done for her. But Kimi didn’t mind. He’d wait until she was ready. And until then, he'd keep every shadow at bay.

-

f1gossipgirls

1,090,000 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Well, The Leclerc Family drama has officially made it to the paddock. Kimi Antonelli arrived to today's race with none other than his girlfriend, YN. (The Leclerc's estranged sister) The two were also accompanied to the track by Kimi's parents and his little sister. YN was seen walking Maggie around the paddock hand in hand when she was stopped by Charles Leclerc. We are unsure what happened at this time.

-

user has turned the comments off on this post.

-

your point of view

There’s a particular kind of hum in the paddock on race day—half electricity, half nerves. It starts low, building beneath your feet, curling in your stomach. I’d never felt it like this before. Not from the sidelines. Not as his person. The car door swung open and I blinked into the morning sun, blinded more by the flashing cameras than the light itself. I took a breath. Steady, practiced. This was part of it now.

Kimi was already out on the other side, waiting, sunglasses hiding his eyes but not the way his entire posture softened when he looked at me. He circled around the car and held out his hand wordlessly. I didn’t even hesitate.

The moment our palms met, the world quieted just enough. Behind us, his mom, dad, and Maggie stepped out of the other car. Maggie immediately rushed toward me with a squeal, wrapping her arms around my arm like she always did when she was excited. I smiled, bending just enough to whisper, “Big day, huh?” and she nodded, wide-eyed. Kimi ruffled her hair before she darted back to their parents, full of energy.

We started walking together, the five of us, toward the entrance gates. His dad threw an arm casually around Kimi’s shoulder, and his mom slipped on her sunglasses and gave me a wink. It didn’t matter how many times I’d been around them—being with them like this, part of their rhythm, always made something in me ache with gratitude.

And then the noise really started. Cameras clicking. Voices shouting.

“YN! Is that Chanel?”

“Kimi, how are you feeling for your first race?!”

“Look here, just one photo!”

My hand instinctively tightened in his, and his thumb started tracing slow circles against my skin. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. He was here. We were here. And nothing else mattered. I smiled. Not for the cameras. For me.

Because Kimi was about to debut in Formula 1. His dream was becoming real. And I had the privilege of standing right beside him—grounded by love, protected by the family that had become mine, and stronger than I had ever been before.

-

The paddock was alive in that pre-race kind of way—buzzing, kinetic, almost too loud. But Maggie’s small hand wrapped in mine helped settle the static in my chest.

She tugged me toward every garage we passed, asking questions a mile a minute. “Is that George’s car? Do you think Toto remembers me?”

I laughed, heart lighter than it had been all morning. “One question at a time, Mags.”

Being with her made the chaos feel quieter. It reminded me of the good things. Of the family I’d built for myself. We had just turned the corner near the media pen, heading back toward the hospitality suite, when I heard it.

“YN?”

The sound of my name—his voice—made me stop cold.

I turned slowly, pulse spiking, already knowing who it was before I saw them. Charles and Arthur. They stood a few feet away in their Ferrari gear, both staring at me like I wasn’t real. Like I was a memory they hadn’t expected to walk out of the past and into this place. Arthur’s jaw tightened. Charles looked like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“You look…” Charles began, then trailed off. His eyes searched mine. “You look grown up.”

I held onto Maggie’s hand a little tighter, grounding myself. “It’s been a while,” I said, and I was proud of how steady I sounded. Detached, even.

Arthur stepped forward slightly. “YN—”

“Maggie,” I interrupted softly, crouching down to her level, keeping my tone light but urgent. “Can you do me a favor, sweet girl?”

She nodded instantly. “Of course!”

“Run back to hospitality and get Kimi, okay? Tell him I’m right here.”

Maggie’s eyes flicked to the two men behind me—her smile faltered, but she nodded. “Okay,” she whispered, and then she took off, little legs moving fast.

I stood back up, spine straight. The silence between me and my brothers hung thick in the air.

Charles looked down at the ground before lifting his eyes again. “We didn’t know you were here. We didn’t know you were her.”

I raised an eyebrow. “No. You didn’t know anything, because you never asked.”

Arthur flinched. Charles looked like he wanted to close the distance between us but didn’t dare. “We… we saw the pictures. With Kimi. You’re happy?”

The question hit something soft in me, but I didn’t let it show. “Yes,” I said simply.

And just then—like he’d felt it—Kimi arrived. He barely glanced at them. His hand immediately found the small of my back, and he stepped in front of me, protective without saying a single word. Calm, steady, but unshakably firm.

“Everything okay?” he asked, eyes flicking between me and the two men.

I nodded. “Now it is.”

-

Choose your ending!

agreeing to try to mend things with your family- starts here

But even as I said it, I felt the weight of their presence in front of me—two ghosts I’d spent five years running from.

Charles stepped forward first, slower than I remembered him ever moving. As if the wrong step would make me disappear all over again.

“I didn’t know,” he said, voice rough and low. “I didn’t know how bad it had gotten. If I had…”

“But you did,” I replied softly. “You just didn’t ask.”

Arthur was beside him, visibly uneasy. He looked older too. The same face that used to tease me for stealing his hoodies now looked...hollow. Tired.

“I don’t have excuses,” he said. “We were wrong. We didn’t see you.”

My throat tightened, but I didn’t let the silence crush me. Not this time.

“You made me feel invisible,” I whispered. “After Papa… it was like I disappeared and none of you noticed.”

Charles’s expression cracked. “We noticed. We just… didn’t know how to fix it. So we stayed quiet. And that was the worst thing we could’ve done.”

I blinked quickly, fighting the pressure behind my eyes. I wasn’t here to break down. I had Kimi. I had a new family. A new world. But that didn’t mean the old pain was gone.

Kimi’s hand moved gently to my waist, a quiet show of support, of presence. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel him beside me, steady as ever.

“We’re not here to force anything,” Arthur added, voice uncharacteristically gentle. “We just wanted to say we’re sorry. And if—if—you ever wanted to let us in again… we’ll be here.”

The moment sat there between us like glass—sharp, fragile.

I could feel the heat of Kimi’s body behind me. His thumb stroked a small, grounding circle at my hip. My silence wasn’t hesitation—it was deliberation. For the first time, I was in control of this story.

“I’m not saying I forgive you,” I said finally, slowly. “And I’m not ready to start over. I don’t know if I ever fully will be.”

They both nodded, eyes glassy, but not pushing.

“But I’m not thirteen anymore,” I continued. “And I’m tired of carrying it all by myself.”

Charles took a breath, voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to anymore. Not if you let us try.”

There was something achingly childlike in the way he said it. I didn’t recognize him in that moment—but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe we all had changed.

Kimi looked at me, silently asking if I needed him to step in. But I shook my head.

“Maybe,” I said quietly. “Maybe I’ll come to you. When I’m ready.”

Arthur’s face cracked into something that looked like hope. Charles nodded, biting the inside of his cheek, eyes shining with something close to tears.

“We’ll be here,” Charles said, voice thick. “Always.”

I gave a soft nod. And that was it. No dramatic hugs. No fairytale ending. Just an opening. An invitation to maybe, someday, walk through that door.

Kimi turned me gently, guiding me back toward the garage, his hand finding mine, fingers lacing together like always.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low in my ear.

I looked up at him, the boy who found me when I was broken and never once asked me to be whole. He just stayed. Loved. Waited.

“I think I will be,” I whispered.

And this time, I believed it.

-

you telling your brothers off like you always deserved to- starts here

But Charles didn’t move. Neither did Arthur.

He took one step forward, brows drawn. “YN, we—we need to talk. I know this is… complicated. But we didn’t know. And now that we do—”

“You did know,” I cut him off, voice quiet but sharp, slicing clean through the air between us. “You knew where I was. You knew how to find me. But none of you ever did.”

Arthur’s jaw tensed. “It wasn’t that simple.”

“It was,” I said, a bitter laugh catching in my throat. “It was as simple as calling. As asking. As giving a damn.”

Kimi shifted beside me, eyes locked on them, no longer just observing. His voice was like steel wrapped in velvet when he spoke. “She doesn’t owe you anything.”

They looked at him, startled—maybe surprised he had something to say. But he didn’t flinch. He stepped slightly in front of me, body angled just enough to make his stance clear.

“She found happiness without you,” Kimi continued, voice calm, but colder now. “She found family without you. And now that she’s no longer a scared kid you ignored, you think she owes you a seat at her table?”

“Kimi—” Charles began, but Kimi didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.

“You weren’t there when she cried herself to sleep. You didn’t hold her hand when she felt like she didn’t exist to the people who were supposed to love her. I was. My family was.”

My throat tightened.

He looked over his shoulder at me, making sure I was still okay to let him speak. I gave the smallest nod.

“So unless she asks you to be part of her life,” Kimi said, gaze back on them now, “you don’t show up at and ambush her in her new life that she built her peace in and act like you’re entitled to anything.”

Arthur said nothing. Charles looked like he was swallowing glass, but neither of them moved.

And then Kimi finished—quieter this time, but firmer than ever. “Walk away.”

There was a long, aching silence. Then, as if a switch had flipped, Arthur stepped back, wordless. Charles’s eyes flickered one last time to mine, and for a second—just a second—I saw it. Regret. But regret wasn’t an apology. It wasn’t enough.

They left. Slowly. Quietly. Like they finally understood they weren’t welcome in this chapter. I turned toward Kimi, my chest heaving slightly even though I hadn’t run a single step. He reached for me without hesitation, pulling me into him. His arms wrapped around my shoulders, his hand pressing protectively to the back of my head.

“You did good,” he whispered into my hair. “I’m proud of you.”

My eyes stung, but I didn’t cry. Not for them. Not anymore.

“Thank you,” I whispered back. “For being my home.”

He pulled back just enough to look me in the eye. “Always.”

And just like that, we walked back toward the pit lane. Toward our life. The one we built from the wreckage. Stronger. Better. And mine. All mine.

-

@strawberrylov-er @gxllumsriddles @coolpeanutchaos @nina481 @mbioooo0000 @yoihoshi-maki @honestlycasualarcade

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ highschool math (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : kimi antonelli x reader x grid

tw : fluff; chaos, a little suggestive ?

fc : his own gf lol

a/n : well, writing for the smol head for the first time! requests and feedbacks are always open !

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by norizz, pastayn and 79 others

pastanelli I AM JUST A TEENAGE DIRTBAG 🧎🏻

view comments

lordperceval i forget we have teenagers on the grid

georgey you should be studying! why are you partying ?

pastanelli i am 18!?

pastanelli i can drink ?

pastanelli i can dance ?

pastanelli i have a gf?

ollibear sorry y'all, he is just drunk

norizz we can clearly see that

chillijr he is more miserable than drunk lando

norizz excuse me !?!!?!?

chillijr he is just following your footsteps

ollibear oh btw, your girl was saying she is whooping your ass

pastanelli i do that usually

pastanelli whats this love @ yn

pastayn CAN YOU LIKE

pastayn tf youre drunk for

pastayn yup, i aint sharing my homework

pierreneedsgas they are sharing homework....

lordperceval we share rent..

max rent? mate, you own a house

lordperceval get the point yeah?

max you're old

yukipookie max, what's wrong with your profile name

max its my government name

liked by pastayn, ollibear and 123 others

pastanelli you look sec-c

view comments

georgey why are you in the girls washroom !?

pastanelli i have gf 🤤

georgey that's bloody sausage ! it makes no sense

pastanelli she told me to come to she can give me kiss

pastayn KIMI WHY WOULD YOU POST THAT

pastanelli my girls washroom privileges ?

pastayn revoked.

hackredbull that's yn hw, your work ain't that neat

pastanelli what's hers is mine

norizz you need help with the homework ?

pastanelli as if you know calculus

norizz just ask the engineers mate, they have done degrees

pastanelli wait, that's smart...

pastanelli @ pastayn I WILL GET OUR HOMEWORK DONE FROM MERCEDES, CAN I ENTER THE WASHROOM NOW

pastayn yes, but with like hot cheetos, the girls wants tariff

pastanelli this ain't America !!!

pastayn you act like the duck

ollibear did you do the second worksheet ?

pastanelli yn did it for me, i gotta drive mate

liked by norizz, ollibear, pastayn and 108 others

pastanelli SHE SAID YES !!!!

view comments

georgey for a second i thought you were getting married

carmenvroom you better up your game

lordperceval please calm your speed down antonelli

pastayn afraid that my guy has the guts to propose ?

lordperceval you did not..

lordperceval I LOVE ALEX ALRIGHT

pastanelli i want to marry my wifey 🤤🤤

pastayn soon antonelli soon

norizz i seriously need to get a girl now

pastry what about magui ?

norizz she is just for the night and occasional brunch man

georgey THERE ARE KIDS !!!!

ollibear who have fucked and are adults

norizz what !?!?!?!

lordperceval oh hell no

max i guess we know who is becoming the next dad

ollibear IT'S NOT ME!

pastanelli YOU FUCKED BEFORE ME !

ollibear WE ARE TALKING ABOUT YOU

chillijr weren't they all kids

albono how old are we again ?

albono why are they allowed kissing...

liked by pastayn, georgey, max and 186 others

pastanelli bros and no hoes

view comments

pastayn 🤢

pastayn go sleep with him

pastayn go eat with him

pastayn go kiss him

pastayn go fuck him

ollibear he already did all that with me

ollibear he was waiting to turn 18 for toto

pastayn WHAT!!??!!??

pastanelli bearman, not cool

pastanelli YOU DONT' EXPOSE OUR SEX LIFE

georgey please don't let this cause you to loose from haas

max congratulations to the new couple 👍🏻

pastayn i am asking kelly to follow this account, only she can control him

lordperceval knew these kids were doing it

pastanelli SAYS THE SERIAL CHEATER WITH CARLOS SAINZ

lordperceval IT'S NOT CHEATING, CARLOS WAS THERE BEOFRE ALEX

alexmieux so i am side chick ?

pastayn YAASSS, TEA, FIGHT

lordperceval SHUT UP KIDS

liked by pastayn, ollibear, alexmieux and 162 others

pastanelli WHO GOT THEM OBSSESSED LIKE YN ?

view comments

pastayn i love you 😍

pastayn WE WENT TO SEE JENNIE

pastayn yall rich bf perks

pastayn SPECIAL EDITION YOUR AI COUNDLT COPY

pastanelli DON'T BORE US TAKE US TO THE CHORUS

lordperceval you missed two lines -

pastayn your old ass knows this !?

lordperceval I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!

max how did you get the tickets, P really wants to see her as well

pastanelli dad duties

pastanelli i sat on the website for 2 hours 37 minutes

totohasanaccount maybe if you could put that time into practicing, you would have a podium

pastanelli TOTO FOLLOWS ME!!?!?!?

georgey TOTO!?

lordperceval oops

let me know if you want to be added or removed to the tg!

permanent tg: @isotopemylove @chair-things @justaf1girl @bibblemiluvr @blushmimi @nikfigueiredo @amz824 @ivegotparticulartaste @raizelchrysanderoctavius @freyathehuntress @piastri-fvx @sadiemack9 @ilivbullyingjeongin @cherry-piee @luvleylisen @sweate-r-weathe-r @jxnellat @loveofmylife12 @budgetcupid @lilaissa @scorpiodiosa @wondergirl101ks @nichmeddar @hoeforlifee @urfavnoirette @lily-ann-b @okcurran @miniboast @teti-menchon0604 @motorsportloverf1 @formula1-motogpfan @capricornito @star73807-blog

[no-144444]

I'm alright- k.antonelli

꩜summary: kimi gets in a crash. you get a fright

꩜pairing: andrea kimi antonelli x fem! reader

꩜warnings: mentions of crashes, injuries, etc. but he's fine dw.

꩜a/n: this is for the few people that just requested more kimi fluff so... here you go!

꩜borders: brozewasp

Your breath was taken away from you in a matter of moments, Kimi crashed. Badly too. He flipped and rolled and you just had to look away, hiding your face in your hand as you covered Maggie’s eyes with your other. You saw his parents flinch. You heard the stillness of the garage. 

“Is he okay?” Maggie's small voice made its way to your ears. You could hear everything going on with him and Bono. He’d asked him if he was okay 4 times, and still got no answer. 

“He will be,” you reassured her as she clung to you, his parents running to the pitwall to speak to Bono. 

You heard a breath, the breathing you knew so well from when he’d lie behind you in bed, or sit as close to you as he could. You could breathe again when he finally answered. 

“He said he’s ok,” you relayed back to Maggie. “He’s going to need a check-up though, so me and you are going to go back to the hotel while your parents wait for him, alright?” you explained already texting his parents your plan. One of them could ride in the ambulance with him, one could drive behind it, you’d take care of Maggie until Kimi was cleared. 

꩜꩜꩜

You put Maggie down to sleep at 9pm, just after her parents called to tell her they were on their way back. You sat with her until her parents walked in. Marco walked towards you as you smiled softly, the day getting to you. He didn’t speak. He just pulled you into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For caring for my family like you do.”

You could’ve cried, but you were stronger than that. You smiled at him. “It’s only because I love you guys,” you shrugged, then hugged his mom before leaving to go back to your room. You had no idea if Kimi was back at the hotel, or if he was in hospital overnight. Either way, you’d definitely see him tomorrow. Now, you needed some rest. 

You opened the door to your hotel room and walked straight into the bathroom, headphones in. You washed your face, washing the day off. You brushed your teeth. You tried desperately to ignore Kimi’s things on the counter. You couldn’t. He should be there. He should be in your arms, happy about the fact that he was in F1. He hadn’t really gotten to the stage where he was so disillusioned with his situation that all he cared about was points and placing, and you adored it. After every race he had something to be proud of, and he’d spend at least an hour talking your ear off about it. You just kept thinking it must be bad if they’re keeping him overnight. Did he have a bad concussion? Broken limbs? A fucking brain bleed?  You weren’t going to push his parents on telling you what happened, especially considering how exhausted they were, but curiosity was eating away at you. 

“You alright?” his voice rang out in the hotel room, and you swore it was just your mind playing tricks on you, but you had to check. You ran out of the bathroom and found Kimi lying on your shared bed. He saw how your eyes-widened and your breath caught in your throat. He knew you would cry, and he just felt worse about worrying you all. “I’m ok,” he nodded, taking your hand and pulling you close to him. You stopped just beside his side of the bed, halting and dropping his hand, wiping away whatever tears had already fallen. “I’m ok, angelo, I promise,” he whispered, running his hand up and down your waist soothingly. 

“Kimi,” your voice cracked. You never really called him Kimi, not when you two were on your own. It was always Kim, or love, or baby, or, just to annoy him- mouse. Never Kimi. His grip on your waist tightened and he brought you closer to him, trying to get you to sit down. You pulled your hands away from your face, you’d stopped actively crying, but he could see more tears forming. 

“Sit down, carissima,” he whispered, and you did as he asked. You sat beside him, and immediately, his hands were on you. He remembered how you felt after one of his bad F2 or F3 crashes. He remembered you needed to touch him to prove he was alright. You needed to see him be… Kimi to know he was fine. “I’m alright,” he whispered, taking your hand and placing it over his heart. “I’m right here.”

God, you could’ve sobbed. Feeling his heartbeat, feeling his skin under your skin again. Hearing his voice. Seeing him here, in your bed. You nodded, blinking back more tears. “W-what happened?” you asked. “A-at the hospital.”

“They checked me out, said I have a very minor concussion, and just gave me some warnings,” he explained. “But they ran every test they could- thanks to Toto,” he rolled his eyes, thinking of the amount of shit he had to do. “So that’s why it took so long.” 

You nodded, eyes fixed on nothing in specific, but just… him. “Yeah,” you breathed out. He used his other hand to wipe the tears that were falling away. 

“So I’m good now, yeah?” he smiled softly. 

“Yeah,” you agreed, your eyes snapping back to his. “You’re ok.”

“Exactly,” he smiled. He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, then he leaned back. “Bedtime?” 

You chuckled, wiping away your tears. “Yeah, let me just get changed.” 

“Feel free,” he winked at you and you rolled your eyes. A major crash and he was still flirting with you like he was 14 again.  But then again, that’s what made this all feel… normal again. He was still Kimi, your Kimi.

navigation for my blog :)

mercedes & williams masterlist

[erikawrites13]

"Three's a Heated Crowd"

Kimi Antonelli x Ollie Bearman x Reader (You’re caught between them literally.) Smut- 18+ NSFW, dominant Ollie, dom Kimi, shared reader, Rivalry. Teasing. Shared apartment during race weekend, late night, everyone too worked up o sleep

You weren’t supposed to be stuck between them. Literally.

One minute, it was playful banter in the living room — post-race adrenaline still buzzing — and the next, you were sandwiched on the couch between Kimi Antonelli and Ollie Bearman, both of them way too close, way too quiet.

Kimi didn’t speak much — but his hand was resting on your thigh, his touch light but possessive.

Ollie leaned closer, voice low in your ear. “You’re awfully quiet for someone with two guys ready to ruin you.”

You swallowed hard. “I didn’t think I had to choose.”

Kimi turned his head, those sharp blue eyes pinning you in place. “You don’t.”

Ollie smirked. “We’ll share.”

Your heart skipped — not from fear. From anticipation.

Ollie kissed you first — rougher, cockier, his hands already under your shirt, thumbs brushing your sides like he already knew how to make you squirm.

But Kimi… Kimi touched you like you were sacred. His lips brushed your neck, your shoulder, slow and reverent. Like he wanted to remember the shape of you with his mouth.

Their contrast made your head spin.

“Let’s see who makes you fall apart first,” Ollie muttered, dragging your shirt over your head.

Kimi just watched you — intense, unreadable — then kissed you like he had something to prove.

And maybe he did.

They undressed you together — Ollie impatient, laughing softly every time you gasped; Kimi methodical, worshipping your skin like it was art.

When they laid you down, it wasn’t just about taking. It was about claiming.

Kimi kissed down your stomach while Ollie whispered, “You look so good between us.” Then Kimi’s mouth met your heat — slow, deep, skilled — and you forgot your own name.

You were breathless, caught between Kimi’s tongue and Ollie’s mouth on your neck, his hand wrapped around your throat just enough to make you whimper.

“You gonna come already?” Ollie teased, grinning. “That’s just Kimi’s warm-up.”

When you did — shaking, gasping, gripping both of them — they barely gave you time to recover.

“You said you didn’t want to choose,” Kimi murmured in your ear. “So let us both have you.”

Ollie kissed your temple. “Ready for round two?”

They didn’t go easy.

They went together — hands all over, lips trading places, one inside you while the other fed you kisses or whispered filth in your ear. You didn’t know where one began and the other ended — just that they touched you like they’d waited forever, and weren’t about to let anyone else in.

By the end, you were ruined dizzy, sore, completely spent.

And between both of them, you finally relaxed.

Ollie was the first to speak. “Still think you don’t have to choose?”

You smiled, eyes fluttering shut.

“I choose both.”

[clara-a7]

𝙁𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝘿𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧 || Kimi Antonelli¹²

彡PAIRING ; kimi antonelli x fem!reader

彡WARNINGS ; fluff

彡SUMMARY ; At kimi’s first f1 home race, you join his family for dinner.

彡REQUESTED? ; yes! (requests are open!)

彡WORDS ; 510

彡DISCLAIMER ; Everything written here is FICTITIOUS.

彡AUTHOR'S NOTE ; sorry if here are any mistakes, english isn't my first language!

The sun was beginning to dip low, casting a warm golden glow over the rolling hills just outside Emilia-Romagna, where Kimi’s family home stood quietly among vineyards and olive trees. It wasn’t in the heart of the region, but close enough for Kimi to finally feel at home during race week a rare luxury for someone who usually lived out of a suitcase.

This was Kimi’s first home race in Formula 1, and the excitement was written all over his face. But even more than the thrill of racing in Italy, he was looking forward to something simpler: spending time with his family.

And you.

That afternoon, you had been invited to join a family meal with Kimi’s parents, his sister, and his grandmother. Nervous but excited, you had brushed your hair carefully, practiced polite conversation in your mind, and kissed Kimi goodbye as he prepared for a quick afternoon track walk.

“Don’t worry,” he’d told you, smiling softly. “You already have Nonna wrapped around your finger. She talks about you all the time.”

Now, sitting around the large wooden table on the terrace, you felt the warmth of the family’s love just as much as the sun on your skin. The table was filled with homemade pasta, fresh bread, and bowls of salad the smells reminding you why Italian cooking was the best in the world.

Nonna held your hand gently as she told stories in a soft mix of Italian and English, her eyes sparkling with joy. Kimi’s sister teased him endlessly, leaning in to whisper, “He’s never this relaxed. Usually, he’s glued to his phone or buried in data sheets.”

Kimi caught the joke and rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was real. He reached under the table, took your hand, and gave it a quiet squeeze.

After dinner, as the sun dipped behind the hills, the family slowly slipped off to their evening routines. Kimi tugged you gently away from the fading laughter, leading you toward a quiet spot by the garden’s edge.

The world felt still just the two of you beneath blooming wisteria vines, the soft hum of cicadas in the distance.

He wrapped his arms around you, his voice low and steady. “It’s rare to have this. To just be here. No distractions.”

You rested your head on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. “I’m glad you brought me here,” you whispered. “With your family. It means everything.”

Kimi smiled into your hair, fingers tracing slow circles along your back. “I want you to know that this you, it’s where I’m from now.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, eyes shining with something deep and quiet. “You’re stuck with me now.”

He chuckled softly and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he whispered. “Because I’m not giving you the choice.”

You laughed quietly, your heart swelling in your chest.

And for the first time, you felt it not just love, but the warmth of truly belonging.

✿彡did you enjoy this? comments, likes, and reblogs are immensely appreciatedミ✿

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