#gabriel bortoleto x you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clara-a7 · 4 days ago

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Is This Love? || F1 GRID

[f1 materlist]

彡CONTAINS ; lando norris, oscar piastri, charles leclerc, isack hadjar, gabriel bortoleto, kimi antonelli

彡WARNINGS ; fluff

彡SUMMARY ; that moment where they realize that they’re in love with you by something small/ordinary

彡WORDS ; 1,9k

彡DISCLAIMER ; Everything written here is FICTITIOUS.

彡AUTHOR'S NOTE ; sorry if there are any mistakes, english isn't my first language!

⤷ Lando Norris

You’re both at a crowded club, the music loud but the air between you somehow quieter, softer. Lando sips from his glass, eyes flickering to you out of the corner of his eye as you laugh with a friend across the room.

He watches the way your smile reaches your eyes, how you tuck a stray hair behind your ear without even thinking. There’s a flicker of something unfamiliar an ache, a warmth in his chest.

Lando’s usual teasing grin falters for just a second. His mind slows down, caught in the details he’s never noticed before. The way your laugh sounds against the hum of the crowd, how the light catches the curve of your jaw, how�� everything about you makes the world feel sharper, clearer.

He realizes he’s holding his breath, afraid to blink and miss it, this sudden clarity that what he feels for you isn’t just a crush. It’s so much more.

You notice him watching and smile, moving closer to where he stands. Taking his glass gently from his hand, you lift it to your lips and drink your mouth landing right where his just was.

Lando’s eyes don’t leave you. “You always have to steal my drink?” he asks with a teasing smile, though his voice is softer, almost shy.

“I’m just very thirsty,” you reply, licking the last trace of the slightly sweet alcohol from your lips, and his heart stumbles in his chest.

Lando blinks several times. Since when have you been this captivating to his eyes? After his last relationship, another disappointment, after all the times he told himself that love wasn’t for him… here you are, proving him wrong without even trying.

“Are you coming to dance, or are you going to stand there like an idiot?” you tease, handing his glass back.

“I’m coming… after,” he murmurs, giving you a soft smile.

You nod and return to the dancefloor, your body moving with the rhythm as the lights flash across your radiant face. Lando lifts the glass to his lips, deliberately drinking from the exact spot where your lipstick lingers. He catches himself smiling like a teenager with a crush, shaking his head at his own ridiculousness but his eyes are already back on you, drawn in all over again.

Because right now, in this small ordinary moment, he understands-

He’s in love.

⤷ Oscar Piastri

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, carefully piecing together a Lego F1. Beside you, Oscar is sprawled on the living room couch, a movie playing faintly on the TV, though he’s barely paying attention. His gaze drifts toward you more often than the screen.

Your fingers move with delicate precision, lips pursed in concentration as you try to attach the rear wing just right. Oscar watches silently, his brown eyes tracing the subtle details: the way your hands hesitate, the faint crease between your brows, the soft satisfaction on your face when a piece finally clicks into place. He tells himself he’s just checking your progress but he lingers a second too long.

Something stirs in his chest a warmth that surprises him. It’s more than fondness; it’s sharper, almost urgent. His heart picks up its pace, and for a fleeting second, he wonders if this is what falling in love feels like: quiet, simple, and utterly undeniable.

Your head turns slightly, catching him mid-stare. “Why are you staring at me like that?” you tease, amusement lacing your voice as you flash him a small smile.

Oh, shit. Caught red-handed. As usual, Oscar’s instinct is to shove the emotions back down. He shifts on the sofa, sitting straighter, his tone carefully neutral. “I’m not. I’m just… checking if you’re making progress. You’ve been at that for an hour.”

You roll your eyes, because of course he’s deflecting. “I take my time to avoid mistakes.”

“Really?” He tilts his head, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “Then why is the rear wing upside down?”

You blink, glancing back at the car !oh. He’s right. “Oh, shit. Thanks, Oscar.”

He can’t help it his smile deepens as he watches your cheeks warm with embarrassment. Something about the way you mutter under your breath, the way you fix your mistake with determination, makes his chest ache in the best way.

The room is quiet, but the closeness feels electric. His mind flickers through all the moments you’ve shared, yet this one slow, unguarded, ordinary lands heavier than all the rest.

He realizes, with a mix of awe and certainty, that this isn’t just admiration or friendship anymore.

It’s love.

⤷ Charles Leclerc

He’s still breathing hard from celebrating. His hair is wet with champagne, drops running down his face. The garage is quieter now, but his heart is still racing from the win.

You hold a small towel and walk closer. Gently, you start to dry his curls, moving slowly so you don’t hurt him. He watches you for a moment, his brown eyes soft, then lowers his head so you can reach better.

“You did so good, Charles,” you say quietly, almost like a secret. “I’m proud of you.”

Your voice is calm and warm. You don’t yell or cheer like the team you just say it in a way that makes him feel safe. The towel brushes against his hair and temple, and he feels something strange in his chest. A tight, warm feeling that has nothing to do with the race.

The attention you’ve been giving him lately makes him a little confused. His heart beats faster every time you return from the paddock.

He doesn’t answer right away. He just closes his eyes and leans a little into your touch, like he doesn’t want it to end. After all the noise, the cameras, and the champagne, this is what feels real. This small moment with you.

“Merci,” he replies with his signature smile, eyes opening slightly as he looks at your face.

You smile back as you wipe his neck. He swallows, moving his Adam’s apple, then looks away briefly.

A thought crosses his mind. Charles realizes something quietly. But now he knows the truth-

Yeah… he’s in love.

⤷ Isack Hadjar

You’re both sprawled across the couch, controllers in hand, the glow of Mario Kart painting your faces. No mercy neither of you.

You dominate the first two rounds, your character crossing the finish line in first place while Isack groans dramatically. “Let me finish first for once,” he mutters, lips curving into a pout.

“In your dreams,” you shoot back, flashing a cheeky smile.

He sighs like he’s already lost, but the final round barely starts before Isack lunges and snatches the controller right out of your hands.

“If I can’t get P1, then neither can you,” he declares, hopping off the couch and holding your controller behind his back.

You gasp, mock offended. “Isack!”

He smirks, one hand holding the controller out of reach while the other pushes at your shoulder to keep you away. But you’re not giving up that easily you launch yourself off the couch with a laugh, your hands reach around his back.

“Give it back!”

The playful wrestling slows for a split second when you realize how close your faces are barely inches apart. Isack’s breath stutters, his teasing grin faltering as a warm flush spreads across his cheeks. His heart thunders in his chest, louder than the game music. Since when did being this close to you make him panic like this?

Your fingers finally brush the controller, grazing his hand in the process. “Gotcha!” you say with a victorious grin, meeting his wide brown eyes.

Isack freezes, caught in the moment, before abruptly letting go. He steps back, coughing lightly as if that will hide the redness creeping up his neck. “Whatever. I don’t want to play anymore,” he mutters, flopping onto the couch like nothing happened.

No, it must be nothing. Maybe he’s just coming down with a cold. Yes, surely it’s the flu, he tells himself, trying to calm his racing heart.

But the way it won’t slow down says otherwise.

⤷ Gabriel Bortoleto

The race was over, and Gabriel was still catching his breath. His chest rose and fell under the heavy racing suit, his gloves loose in his hands. He had just scored his first point in Formula 1. His heart was still racing, and a big, disbelieving smile spread across his face. The team was cheering behind him, clapping and patting his shoulders, but even through the noise, his eyes searched for only one person you.

You finally appeared near the pit wall, weaving through mechanics and cameras. His helmet was off now, his dark hair messy and damp with sweat, and his face still flushed from the adrenaline. Without saying a word, you walked straight into him and wrapped your arms tightly around his torso.

For a second, Gabriel froze in surprise. Then he melted into the hug, letting out a quiet breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The world seemed to fade the engine noise, the shouting, the cameras. All that was left was the feeling of your arms around him, grounding him in the middle of the chaos. He rested his chin lightly on your head, closing his eyes.

“You did so well,” you whispered, your voice soft and warm, meant just for him.

Gabriel’s chest tightened in the best way. He smiled shyly and held you closer, his hand brushing along your back. “I’m happy you were here for my first point,” he said quietly, almost like a confession.

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, your hand still resting on his arm. His gaze softened in a way you hadn’t seen before. In that moment, Gabriel understood the truth he’d been avoiding all day.

His heart swells with a quiet certainty:

He’s in love.

⤷ Kimi Antonelli

The smell of tomato sauce and garlic filled the kitchen as you placed a steaming plate of spaghetti bolognese in front of Kimi. He was still in his hoodie and sweatpants after training, hair a little messy, sitting at the table like he had been waiting all day just for this.

“Here you go,” you said with a small, proud smile.

Kimi leaned forward, fork in hand, and twirled some pasta around it. You watched as he took his first bite, holding your breath without even realizing it. He chewed slowly, his brown eyes flicking up to meet yours.

The pasta… was overcooked. Way too soft. Normally, Kimi would have said something immediately probably made a joke, teased you a little, or smirked while pointing it out. But tonight, he just swallowed and smiled, the corners of his mouth turning a little pink.

“Good?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Mm… yeah,” he said quickly, looking away as he grabbed his water. His cheeks were warm. Why was he blushing? Since when did your smile make his chest feel tight like this?

You sat across from him, playfully narrowing your eyes. “You’re lying.”

He froze for a moment, the fork halfway to his mouth, then shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

He shook his head, trying to hide his face behind another bite of pasta. The truth was, he couldn’t bring himself to tease you tonight. Not when every time you looked at him with that bright smile, his heart skipped a beat.

Kimi watched you lean on your elbows across the table, chatting about nothing, and he felt it hit him quietly, like a secret only he knew.

Yeah… he’s completely in love.

✿彡did you enjoy this? comments, likes, and reblogs are immensely appreciatedミ✿

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pastryfication · 2 months ago

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vamos com tudo — gabriel bortoleto

the spanish grand prix was always special for you. watching your father race in your home country, spending time with your family in the paddock and this year, someone else makes it even more special.

3.2k words

my little comeback baby <3 please show it some love

The space around you is filled with noise; footsteps in every direction, voices overlapping, and the bustling sound of engineers making last-minute adjustments on the shiny cars.

Your grandmother’s hand is clutched tightly in yours, your fingers twined together as you walk through the paddock at a brisk pace. Just ahead, your grandfather is in deep conversation with your father, and a couple of paces behind is your aunt and her husband, also holding hands as they take it all in.

It’s nothing new to you, walking around amongst the cars and chaos, shadowing your father in his element, but it’s always nicer like this. When you’re surrounded by the comforting sound of your family’s chatter.

When you aren’t alone.

In front of you, the family patriarchs suddenly stop. The Aston Martin hospitality stands tall next to you. Glass sliding doors let you peek into the sleek room, in front of where a few potted plants stand, presumably to make it seem more inviting, but the grey interior fools no one. It’s not supposed to be cozy. It’s supposed to exude business and professionalism.

Fernando turns to his mother first, kissing her cheeks and muttering a few words, too quiet for you to hear, before he turns to you.

“Be good for your grandparents, mija,” he leans down to press a lingering kiss in your hair. “I’ll see you after qualifying, yeah?”

You nod obligingly, smiling at your father’s serious face. “Of course, Papa. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He presses another kiss to your head, this time closer to your temple, shooting you a comforting smile over his shoulder, before he leaves you, walking with determined steps towards the team garage.

He likes to be alone before sessions. It makes it easier for him to get into the headspace he needs to race. As long as you can remember, he’s left you at the hospitality, saying he can’t race when you’re too close to his mind.

You were his weakness--his Achilles heel--had been since you first opened your big, glassy eyes and looked up at him, and he had never hidden it from anyone.

You were his everything. His favourite in the whole world, *just not on race days*. Not when he had to be in the car.

And so, you watch as he jogs down the pathway to the moss painted garage while you let yourself be dragged along by your grandparents as you enter the building you’re way too familiar with.

—

Your eyes are glued to the screen in front of you, your eyes following the small green dot representing your father.

Your family is once again engaged in lively chatter, but your focus is elsewhere. Qualifying always has you on edge, but today more than usual. Because as much as you try to deny it, your eyes are following another green dot as well. An awfully ugly, bright neon green dot. The dot belonging to car 05. Gabi.

Your lips involuntarily turn upwards at the thought of the Brazilian, a boy—young man—that you had made acquaintances with the year before, when the seriousness of his racing career became more apparent and your father had decided to take him under his wing, signing him to A14 Management.

Flashes of trips in private planes, busy Formula 2 races and late-night dinners concealed as meetings cross your mind. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t followed him just as closely as you followed your dad, cheering on him in silence whenever you watched the races at home with your friends.

You would also be lying if you said that the sight of his sweaty face in post-race interviews hadn’t caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach on multiple occasions.

And maybe, just maybe, you have a hidden agenda with your paddock appearance this weekend. *Maybe* you’re hoping to catch a glimpse of the boy you had so bravely suppressed your crush on for way too long.

That’s why you so sneakily slip out of the Aston Martin garage once the qualifying session comes to an end, hoping to find the driver in P12 to congratulate him.

You know your way around the Spanish paddock, not surprisingly, since you’d been attending since you were a tiny baby with big innocent eyes and no teeth, so the walk is quick.

The media pen is filled to the brim with drivers, PR-assistants and media personnel, so you keep yourself away, not wanting to be unknowingly caught in the shot of an interview, but your father’s hawkeyed gaze spot you either way, and once he’s finished up with the reporter, he makes his way over to you, sweaty arms open in expectancy of a hug.

“Congratulations, Papa!” You leap into his arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

When you pull back, he’s grinning widely. “Thank you, mija. Did you watch?”

“I always watch.” His smile turns impossibly wider before he leans down to kiss your temple for a lingering moment.

“Have you talked to Gabi?” He looks around as if in search for his mentee. “He’s alone this weekend, so he might like a familiar face.”

In his hurried search, you think he completely misses the way your cheeks redden in a warm blush, and you’re quick to lower your face in an attempt to hide it. He doesn’t, though. Your father never misses anything.

“I see him over there!” Fernando suddenly takes off, pulling you behind him with a tight hold on your hand, so you have no choice but to follow him.

“Gabi!” You father’s booming voice catches the attention of the 20-year-old, and he looks over from where he’s standing.

“Hola, Gabi,” He pulls the younger man into a half hug, clapping his back with camaraderie. “Well done on Q2!”

“Thank you, Fernando.” His face breaks into a smile. “And hi,” his eyes turn to you when you’re pushed forward by your eager father.

You smile back, and he reaches out to pull you into a quick hug. When your face gets close to his neck, your nose sniffs up his scent. It’s a mix of sweat and something else, something surprisingly pleasant and manly that warms your cheeks once again.

“It’s been a while.” You meet his eyes and in a short moment, the world closes in to just the two of you, looking at each other as something unspoken passes between you. Your lips quirk up in a familiar smile that has him smiling as well, before you both look away.

“Do you want to join us for dinner tonight? We were thinking of going out, right mija?”

You nod sweetly at him, and Gabriel quickly agrees. “Yes, I would like that, thank you.”

—

That night, you take extra care when applying your makeup and spend an extra minute when brushing through your hair, causing your father to loudly call out his complains to you from the other side of the door.

The drive to the restaurant in your father’s fancy car is quiet. You don’t turn on the radio, and neither does he, but the silence is comfortable, filled with a nice familiarity.

You love Barcelona. It’s home, a place you hadn’t spent much time in your childhood, but a place that held a special place in your heart nonetheless.

The restaurant your father had chosen is your usual one, the one you always visit when you’re home, and when you enter through the doors, Gabriel is already waiting.

He’s standing a bit awkwardly, hands bunched together tightly in front of him, while his eyes wander around the room. He smiles when he spots you and pulls you both into half hugs before leading you towards a table near the back of the room, where a group of your father’s personal entourage is already waiting. They’re a friendly bunch, people you’ve known your entire life, but still, you take a step in on yourself, putting on your best polite smile and trying your best to avoid eye contact.

Maybe if you had looked up, you would have seen the way Gabriel’s eyes lingered on your face with a small frown, but you didn’t, instead your eyes stay focused on the ground.

A friend of your father’s, his “personal assistant”, who you honestly don’t know the official job description of, does catch the look, however, and with a barely concealed smirk he suggests: “Why don’t we let the young people sit together, let them escape from us boring old men.”

You blush for the thousandth time that day, and the man winks conspiratorially at you as you’re ushered toward the end of the table.

Gabriel smiles politely at you as he pulls out your chair, and you carefully pull down your skirt as you sit, your hands immediately landing in your lap to nervously twist together.

You end up sitting between your father’s personal photographer, Pedro, a young brunette who you consider a nice acquaintance, and Gabriel.

The three of you hold polite conversation while you wait for the food, bland topics like the weather, the track conditions and your different schoolings.

The conversation is smooth; you laugh numerous times, and even when Pedro turns around to the other conversations, you and Gabriel keep talking. Nothing deep, nothing special, just funny, polite talk that made the night go by way too fast, and before you know it, the bill is being delivered to the table, and your father quickly snatches it up, promising to pay for everyone.

You smile, coming to a stand along with everyone else, but before you can slither away to the safety of your father’s side, you feel a hand gently touch your arm.

You turn around and look.

It’s Gabriel.

Suddenly your heart starts beating twice as fast and the skin where his hand rests feel possibly glowing.

“Hey,” he utters, quiet as though he’s sharing a secret no one else can know. “I’m going out to drinks with a few of my friends now, maybe you’d like to join?”

You suck in a breath, your eyes flickering to your father for a second too long, and Gabriel takes it as a bad sign.

“You don’t have to, of course.” He’s quick to assure you. “Only if you want to! I just thought it could be fun.”

You turn to look at him again, and the hope shining brightly through his eyes make you do a double take. “Oh, um,” you suddenly forget how to speak, his deep eyes boring into your soul and removing all words from your brain. “Yeah, um, I’d like that. I mean, that could be fun.”

You nod, and he nods back, and then you’re both standing to the side of the group, nodding like two complete idiots till you realise what you’re doing and awkwardly stop, immediately breaking the eye contact with a giggle.

—

The bar is loud, filled to the brim with people who stink of alcohol and sweat. You keep yourself close to Gabriel and his mates—who turn out to be Ollie, Dino and Kimi, three faces you’re luckily already familiar with—trying desperately not to get lost in the crowd.

“You alright?” It’s Gabi. He’s looking down at you with those warm eyes, making it impossible to concentrate on anything else, so the only response you can muster is a nod. “Just tell if it becomes too loud, yeah?”

You nod once again, taken back by his obvious care.

Dino seems to notice it as well, because he looks at the two of you conspiratorially before whispering something in Ollie’s ear. They both laugh loudly before Gabriel nudges them hardly in the ribs, effectively shutting up his friends, and ushering you forward towards a table.

Once you’re sat, he doesn’t waste a second before getting seated himself, shooting a dirty look at Ollie, who had cheekily tried to slither in between you.

When the table has clearly been claimed as yours, Ollie and Kimi rise again, pointing towards the bar.

“We’ll order,” the Brit promises. “Just say what you’ll like.”

Once you’ve given your order to the boys, they fight their way through the busy crowd towards the bar, and you’re left sitting in the middle of the other two.

Gabriel is sitting close to you, closer that he needs to, perhaps, but you aren’t going to comment on it. Instead, you enjoy the way your thighs rest so close together that you can feel the heat radiating from his body, making you suddenly aware of how sweaty you’re becoming yourself.

Dino starts leaning over you, saying something to his friend about car set-ups that you don’t even try to understand, so instead, you lean back in your seat, letting them steer the conversation wherever they want to.

You’re so engrossed in trying to look interested in what they’re saying that you almost don’t notice when Gabriel casually rests his arms behind your seat, his hand dangling dangerously close to your bare shoulder.

Your breath hitch in your throat, and you cough lightly to cover it up, looking discreetly to the side.

To your disappointment, he doesn’t seem to be bothered at all, keeping the talk going all the same, even when Ollie and Kimi loudly come back with six drinks clutched in their hands.

You all look questionably at them, wondering the same. *Had they really failed mathematics that bad?* But they only laugh at your expressions.

“Two for the lady!” Kimi exclaims. “We can’t drink too much with the race tomorrow, so you’ll have to do it for us.”

He eagerly pushes two drinks your way, and you accept them with a laugh. It was going to be a fun night.

—

Five drinks in and you’re beginning to let yourself loose. The boys are not far behind, having seemingly forgotten their promise to hold back as they holler at one another to finish off their drinks and buy more.

They’re a rowdy bunch, you come to discover, once the small edge of PR-training was drunken away, they go absolutely ballistic, and you very much enjoy watching the show unfold.

Though it seemed every time they went into the crowd, Gabriel very quickly found his way back to you. At first, you had excused it, reminding yourself that he probably felt a responsibility to protect you for your father, but as his hand finds place on your back for the second time that night, you decide to allow your thoughts to wander. Allow yourself to become a bit foolish.

Because as you stumble home, all five of you struggling to walk straight, he still makes sure to stay right beside you, keeping you on the inside of the sidewalk, even when it means clumsily dragging you to the other side. And when you reach the hotel, he insists on walking you all the way to your room, even though he’s staying in a completely different hotel and the boys are standing outside, threatening to walk on without him.

So, when he hesitates in the opening of your room, leaning his weight against the door, you want to do more than kiss his cheek briefly and thank him for a great night. You want to do more than promise to text the next morning.

But alas, you don’t. And when you go to sleep that night, warm and cozy beneath the many duvets, but still feeling a small coldness in your beating chest, you can’t help but wonder about what might have happened if you had done it.

—

The next morning comes early and bright with a sickening headache and a deep-rooted nausea pulsing through your body.

When your father comes pounding on your door to fetch you, you had just dragged yourself to the shower, trying to wash away the lingering proofs of the night before.

“You know,” your father starts once you are finally seated in his car. “I was young once too.” He glances sideways at you. “But I was far better at hiding a hangover than you. You know your abuela is going to see you like this?”

You groan at your father’s words, leaning your pounding head against the cold window. “I know. I’m sorry, Papa.”

“No, no, don’t apologise. I’m glad you had fun. Just think about it, mija. You’re going to feel terrible today.”

And as much as you hate to admit it, he’s right.

Not even thirty minutes into the race day, and you already want to go home. The constant smell of food wafting in from the cafeteria makes your uneasy stomach churn, and your grandparents loud chatter turns out to not be so comforting when your head is feeling like exploding from noise.

So when a small knock on the door to the small area reserved for your family startle you, you’re just about ready strangle the culprit. At least that’s until your eyes lock on Gabriel standing hesitantly outside, a sheepish look on his face.

“Hey,” his eyes flits nervously between you and your family members, who are all intensely staring at him. “Can we talk for a moment?”

You’re on your feet in a matter of seconds, stalking towards the door where he’s standing, and when you start walking briskly down the hallway, he follows you blindly.

“What’s up?” When you finally reach your destination of a small meeting room where no one ever goes, you turn around to look at him, your stomach flipping even more when you notice the nervous look on his face.

“I had a great time yesterday,” he admits.

“Yeah, me too.”

He smiles, a wide teeth smile that send your body into overdrive, a blush covering your cheeks as usual when he’s nearby.

“You’re really fun to be around.” He scratches his neck awkwardly. “I hadn’t realised how much I missed being around you. So, yeah, I guess I was just wondering-“

You don’t give him a chance to finish. You don’t even give yourself a chance to finish your thoughts before you’re moving forward, your hand delicately moving to hold his cheek. He immediately freezes, a blush now covering his cheeks as well.

“Oh, um,” It seems as though that’s as far as your confidence goes, because now you’re stuck as well, standing completely still while looking into his eyes.

“Can I,” he clears his throat awkwardly. “Can I kiss you now?”

You barely have time to nod before his lips lower onto yours and you feel yourself melting beneath his touch. One hand on your hips, the other hesitantly placing itself on your neck to lead you closer towards him.

It’s intense. Gentle but so intense, and when you pull away, you’re a little dazed. It’s everything you’ve dreamed off and so much more.

He seems to think the same, staring at you through wide, glazed eyes, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh. He’s quick to follow, and then the two of you are standing together in an abandoned meeting room, with only a short time till he has to be on the track, hangover and maybe still a bit influenced by the alcohol from the night before, laughing between kisses like you’re in middle school.

It's magical, and for once in your life, you’re all in.

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giuseppe-yuki · 2 months ago

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babysitting duty

gabriel bortoleto x reader

the last thing you honestly expect to wake up to is little noemi sky perched in your boyfriend’s arms. inside said boyfriend’s apartment. in the bedroom. with little sparkly bows in her hair. while you look like an absolute mess.

“what the f-” you sputter out, barely halting yourself before you are deemed a bad influence within two seconds of meeting your boyfriend’s coworker’s adorable little daughter.

gabriel sets her down gently, and pushes her encouragingly towards the bed where you sit, tangled in blankets.

“this is my girlfriend over there, noemi,” he says slowly, pointing towards you. “can you say ‘hi’?”

to you, he mouths “babysitting duty,” like that explains anything.

she peers at you, cautious, but when you move on the bed to get closer to her, she bolts like a baby deer into your boyfriend’s legs. she proceeds to grip onto one of his legs like her life depends on it and smashes her face into the material of his pants, as if to hide from you.

“aww, noemi, it’s okay,” gabby laughs, patting her little head, careful not to mess up her bows. “she’s not scary, i promise!”

you roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s words as he hoists the little girl up to comfort her more.

that’s when she starts crying at a piercing decibel.

did you really look that scary after rolling out of bed in the morning?

it seems like the way into a toddler’s heart is through food. after some dinosaur chicken nuggets, applesauce, and a packet of m&ms that you stole from your boyfriend’s secret stash, she all but snuggles up to you on the couch.

“you know, kids sure are cute,” you say, watching noemi giggle as she smashes buttons on gabriel’s phone.

gabriel hmms, next to you, eyes bright.

“yeah, but making them is the-”

the gall of this man.

“gabriel lorenzo bortoleto oliveira-” you hiss out, cutting him off. “in front of the actual child?”

“okay, okay, sorry,” he says, laughing, before smooching a kiss on your cheek. “just saying…”

you shake your head, but there’s a slight smile on your face.

you refocus your attention on noemi, watching her extreme concentration on using her little finger to tap things gabby’s phone.

it’s cute until you realize she has somehow navigated to the messages app.

“wait wait wait noemi,” you say, prying her hands away from the mobile device. “what are you doing?”

you gasp when you see what is on the screen, before laughter starts bubbling up in your throat.

gabby hasn’t seemed to have caught on yet, more invested in making a now distracted noemi giggle by tickling her belly.

when you turn his phone over towards him, his eyes widen the size of saucers before he bolts up from the couch.

“yeah, that was my reaction too,” you snort. “i don’t know how you are going to explain to jonathan wheatley the fifteen poop emojis, one urn emoji, four santa emojis, and one ‘i love you’ text.”

#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf fic #f1 imagine #gabriel bortoleto x reader #gabriel bortoleto x you #📝

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goldsainz · 5 months ago

Text

# GB5 — CONSOLATION PRIZE !

MASTERLIST !

REQUEST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ after a tough dnf in melbourne, your boyfriend feels defeated, but you’re determined to lift his spirits

002. WARNINGS !

✯ none, i think.

003. NOTE !

✯ first gabriel fic and i know it’s short but i’m slowly getting back into it so bear with me��

word count : 563

Gabriel was quiet. Too quiet.

You watched him from across the hotel room, his back against the headboard, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if searching for answers that weren’t there. The post-race exhaustion clung to him, but you knew it wasn’t just the physical toll. It was the DNF. The frustration. The helplessness of watching the race unfold without him in it.

With a soft sigh, you made your way to the bed, crawling onto his side and resting your chin on his shoulder.

“Hey, meu amor.” Your voice was gentle, testing the waters.

Gabriel hummed in response but didn’t turn to look at you. His fingers toyed with the hem of his hoodie, the same one he’d thrown on after his shower, his race suit long discarded.

“I know that hum,” you said, nudging him slightly. “That’s the ‘I’m stuck in my head and brooding’ hum.”

That earned you a small smile, but it disappeared just as quickly. He finally turned his head, his warm brown eyes meeting yours, and the disappointment there made your heart ache.

“It just sucks,” he admitted, voice low. “All that effort, all the preparation… and I didn’t even get to finish. Just like that, it’s over.”

You shifted, bringing a hand up to his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin. “I know, Gabi. I know it hurts.”

He exhaled sharply, shutting his eyes for a moment before leaning into your touch, like he was letting himself find comfort in you.

“You were so good out there,” you murmured. “And yeah, today didn’t go the way we wanted, but you’ll have more races, more chances. This isn’t the end.”

Gabriel let out a bitter chuckle. “Tell that to the championship points.”

“They’ll be fine,” you countered. “You’ll fight back. You always do.”

He sighed again, but this time, it felt like some of the weight on his chest was lifting. You decided it was time for drastic measures, or simply put, your secret weapon.

“Okay,” you declared, sitting up straighter. “We’re going to turn this night around.”

“Oh?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

You grinned, rolling off the bed and heading towards the minibar. “Step one: snacks. Step two: a bad movie we can make fun of. Step three: endless cuddles, whether you like it or not.”

He huffed out a real laugh at that, and your heart soared. “That sounds suspiciously like a trap to get me to stop thinking about today.”

“Guilty.” You threw him a pack of chocolates, which he caught with ease. “But it’s a good trap. One filled with love and sugar.”

Gabriel shook his head fondly, peeling open the chocolate. “Fine, you win. But if we’re watching a bad movie, I get to pick.”

“Deal.” You plopped back onto the bed beside him, curling up against his side as he grabbed the TV remote to browse for the worst-rated film he could find.

The race and its heartbreak faded into the background as the night went on. Gabriel still had disappointment lingering in his chest, but with you tucked into his arms, laughing at terrible dialogue and stealing pieces of his chocolate, the weight didn’t feel so unbearable.

Maybe the Melbourne Grand Prix hadn’t gone his way, but right now, he had you—and that was a victory in itself.

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n0vazsq · 7 months ago

Text

Unstoppable | GB5 x Reader

pairing . . . gabriel bortoleto x f1!academy!driver!gf!reader

summary . . . Winning the F1 Academy Championship was special on its own, but when your boyfriend wins the F2 championship its even more special

request . . . no!!

word count . . . 1.1k

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . okay but why is this so cute?? anyhow yeah one more fic then ill be on the smau grind

. . . It was a day neither of you would ever forget. Gabriel had just secured his title as the F2 champion, and you? You’d claimed the F1 Academy championship after a heart stopping battle that came down to the final race.

The gap between you and Abbi had been tiny all season, and as much as you respected her, you couldn’t deny the sheer relief of crossing that finish line first.

The paddock was chaos; team members shouting, cameras flashing, and celebratory cheers echoing everywhere. But amidst it all, there was Gabriel, standing off to the side, his grin so wide it could light up the entire circuit.

His race suit was tied around his waist, and his champagne soaked hair stuck up in every direction, but to you, he looked perfect.

"There’s my champion," he called out as soon as he spotted you. Before you could respond, he was already pulling you into a hug, lifting you off the ground as you laughed.

"I thought I was gonna lose it out there," you admitted, your voice muffled against his chest. "Abbi was so close, I swear she could’ve reached out and tapped my rear wing."

Gabriel laughed, setting you back down but keeping his hands firmly on your waist. "Close doesn’t count, meu amor. You were unstoppable."

"Unstoppable is a bit excessive," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "I was barely holding it together."

He leaned in closer, his voice soft but certain. "Doesn’t matter how you felt. You did it. And I’m so proud of you."

Your cheeks flushed at the sincerity in his tone, and you couldn’t help but smile. "Guess I had to keep up with you, huh? Can’t let the F2 champion have all the fun."

"Ah, so this is a rivalry now?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Should I be worried about you stealing my fame next season?"

"Maybe," you shot back, grinning. "Better watch your back, Bortoleto."

It was moments like this, when the world around you seemed to blur into the background, that made everything feel so right.

Racing had always been your dream, but sharing it with someone who understood every high and low? That was something else entirely.

The celebrations carried on, and for a while, you were swept up in the whirlwind of congratulations and photoshoots.

But somehow, Gabriel never strayed too far, always finding his way back to your side. It was as if he knew exactly when you needed a steady hand to ground you.

At one point, the two of you ended up sitting on the edge of the garage, your legs laid out in front of you as you watched the party unfold. Gabriel’s arm was draped around your shoulders, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your arm. You leaned into him, finally letting yourself relax after the chaos of the day.

"You know," he said after a while, his voice low and thoughtful. "I’ve dreamed about winning this championship for so long, but I never imagined it would feel this good. I think it’s because you’re here."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you tilted your head to look up at him. "Gabriel…"

He turned to meet your gaze, his brown eyes so full of warmth it made your breath skip a beat. "I mean it. Sharing this with you makes it a million times better."

You didn’t know how to respond, so you leaned up and kissed him instead. It was soft and lingering, the kind of kiss that spoke volumes without saying a word. When you pulled back, his smile was smaller, more private, but just as radiant.

"Okay, your turn," you said, trying to lighten the mood. "What’s next for the F2 champion? Are you ready to take the big jump to F1?"

He laughed, the sound echoing around the empty pitlane. "Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, yeah? Let’s just enjoy tonight."

"Fair enough," you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, soaking in the moment together. Around you, the party raged on, but it felt like you were in your own little bubble, untouchable and perfectly at peace.

Eventually, your team principal found you, informing you that you had to go to inside the garage.

Gabriel nudged you gently. "Go on, star girl. They’re waiting for you."

"Not without you," you said, grabbing his hand and dragging him along.

Your team principal smiled, microphone in hand and a playful glint in his eye. "Ladies and gentlemen, our F1 Academy champion!" he announced, prompting a wave of cheers and applause.

The team parted as the two of you made your way to the front, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves as all eyes turned to you. But then Gabriel gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, and suddenly, everything felt better.

You took the microphone, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. "This season has been incredible, challenging, exhausting, but so, so worth it," you began.

"I want to thank my team, my family, and everyone who’s supported me along the way. And, of course, this guy right here," you added, glancing at Gabriel. "He’s been my support through all of it. I wouldn’t be standing here without him."

The team erupted into cheers, and Gabriel gave you a look that was both full of adoration and pride. He leaned in close, his voice just for you. "You’re amazing, you know that?"

"Takes one to know one," you whispered back, grinning.

The rest of the night was a blur of laughter, champagne, and endless congratulations. But no matter how many people pulled you in for hugs or photos, you always found your way back to Gabriel.

As the night quietened down, the two of you wandered away from the noise, finding a quiet spot under the stars. Sitting side by side on the grass, you looked up at the sky, the weight of the day finally settling in.

"Do you ever think about how far we’ve come?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"All the time," Gabriel replied, his voice soft. "But I think about where we’re going even more."

You turned to him, your heart swelling with affection. "And where’s that?"

“Anywhere we want,” he said simply, his eyes sparkling with determination.

In that moment, with the stars above and Gabriel beside you, everything felt possible.

The future was uncertain, as it always was in racing. But with him by your side, you knew you could face anything.

Together, you were unstoppable.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

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starset21 · 1 month ago

Text

Close Contact |GB5|

Pairing: Gabriel Bortoleto x reader

Trope: Unexpected Romance

Standard disclaimer: I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may found is on tumblr or A03 under the same name. This is all fake. It does not reflect real people, real events or their actual actions or relationships. May contain google translated languages.

The rain came out of nowhere.

Typical Switzerland in the summer—sunshine one minute, sideways wind and expensive chaos the next. You stood under the edge of the overhang, watching as the slick marble terrace quickly transformed into a reflective pool. Crew members scrambled with gear, umbrella poles went flying, and someone was already yelling about delays over the coms.

You were still in full gear, a branded Stake windbreaker over your NASCAR fire suit, drenched up to the calves. You’d flown in for this joint shoot. “A showcase of young motorsport talent,” they said. In reality, you were the token American. Again. And probably the only one here who’d had to fight to get on the invitation list.

“You okay?”

The voice was soft, Brazilian-accented. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Gabriel Bortoleto stood beside you, curls flattened by rain, holding out a black puffer jacket you hadn’t seen before. It was a size too big for either of you and already a little damp around the collar.

You raised a brow. “Do you always carry spare jackets for dramatic weather changes?”

He gave a small, crooked grin. “No. I just thought you looked cold.”

You hesitated. And then you took it.

It smelled like clean laundry, rain, and something underneath—like the inside of a helmet after a hard race. The kind of scent you weren’t supposed to notice, much less like.

“You're not freezing too?” you asked, slipping your arms through the sleeves.

He shrugged. “I grew up in São Paulo. This is just a warm shower with bad timing.”

You scoffed. “Right. Because everyone enjoys rain delays and ruined promo shoots.”

“I didn’t say I enjoyed it.” He glanced at you sidelong, eyes dark and unreadable. “Just means more time to talk.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You’re not what I expected.”

“Same.”

You both leaned on the railing, staring out at the flooded set. His shoulder brushed yours—accidentally or not, you didn’t ask. He wasn’t all over the place like most young drivers, like the ones who tried too hard to charm or overcompensate. Gabriel had a quiet kind of confidence. The kind that made you feel seen.

"Do they overlook you too?" he asked, after a pause. “Like they do me?”

You didn’t answer immediately. You weren’t used to anyone asking the question, let alone someone waiting for the honest answer.

“Every day,” you said. “But I drive like hell, so they can't ignore me for long.”

His smile was soft. “I’ve watched your races. You’re relentless.”

You turned your head. “Stalker.”

“Fan,” he corrected.

Your lips twitched, betraying a smile you tried to hide. The rain blurred everything around you. The cameras were still tucked away, the crew huddled far from earshot. You shifted your weight just slightly, enough that your arm pressed against his. He didn’t pull away.

“You’re different than I thought you’d be,” you said.

Gabriel tilted his head. “How’d you think I’d be?”

“Cocky. Fast-talking. Too polished to be real.”

He smiled at that, slow and deliberate. “And now?”

You looked at him—really looked. The rain had darkened his curls, his lashes spiked with water. His skin still held warmth, like the weather hadn’t touched him the same way it had everyone else. Or maybe it was just the way he carried himself. Solid. Centered.

“Now I think you see more than you let on,” you murmured.

He didn’t respond right away. Just let the moment stretch.

Then: “I see you.”

The words were quiet, but they hit like an impact—clean and precise and right under your ribs.

Your heart jumped. You tried to laugh it off. “That’s dramatic.”

“Doesn’t make it less true.”

Your breath caught. There was no one else on the terrace now. No eyes, no crew, just the endless sound of rain hammering down around you like a curtain. Like the world had pressed pause.

Gabriel reached over—not sudden, not forced—and gently tugged the hood of his puffer jacket up over your head, shielding you better from the wind. His knuckles brushed your cheek in the process. Warm, careful, reverent.

You didn’t move. Neither did he.

“I didn’t think today would go like this,” you whispered.

He leaned just a little closer, voice just as low. “Maybe it’s not a bad thing.”

You were so close now you could see the way his jaw flexed when he swallowed, the slight pink of his lips, the smallest nick on his cheek—probably from a visor clip or seatbelt.

Your fingers curled into the edge of the jacket he’d given you. His eyes dipped to your mouth. Then back up. Then back again.

You didn’t know who leaned in first.

Maybe it was you.

Maybe it was both.

But before your lips could meet—before the pull could finish what it had started—

Click.

The unmistakable sound of a shutter.

You froze. Gabriel’s hand hovered by your waist, your breath mingling in the damp space between you.

A photographer.

One of the crew must’ve circled back without either of you noticing. Too wrapped up in whatever this was. You both stepped apart, quick but not rushed. Just enough to kill the moment, not the feeling underneath. Your pulse was hammering. Gabriel ran a hand through his curls, blinking slowly.

“I guess someone was watching,” he said, almost amused. But there was something else in his tone too. Frustration. Maybe disappointment.

You exhaled. “Great. Can’t wait for that headline.”

Gabriel looked at you, more serious now. “I meant it, you know.”

You blinked. “What?”

“What I said. About seeing you.”

You swallowed.

He looked down, then back up. “They’re going to make it into something it’s not. Unless we tell them what it is.”

Your chest tightened.

“And what is it?” you asked, heart in your throat.

Gabriel smiled again. Not playful. Real. Gentle.

“Something I’d like to keep finding out.”

You didn’t respond right away. You just looked at him.

He’d said it so simply. Like he wasn’t asking for anything from you—just letting you know that he wanted more. Not attention. Not a headline. You.

So you said the only thing you could say, voice soft but steady:

“Come find out, then.”

His eyes darkened—not with surprise, but with something quieter. Like relief. Like permission.

And for a moment, neither of you moved. The sound of the rain softened into background static. The wind rattled a loose umbrella somewhere down the terrace. Somewhere in the distance, a shutter clicked again. But it didn’t matter anymore.

You took a slow step back. Then another.

Gabriel followed.

He didn’t ask where you were going.

He didn’t need to.

HOTEL ROOM – LATER THAT NIGHT

The balcony door was cracked open to let the rain-cooled air drift in. You stood in the center of your hotel room, barefoot, hoodie zipped halfway, his jacket now hanging off the back of the chair like it belonged there.

Gabriel leaned against the doorframe, shirt damp from the walk over, curls a little more wild than they’d been hours ago.

“You sure?” he asked, voice soft.

“I’m not doing this for the press,” you said, matching his tone.

“Good,” he replied. “Because I want the version of you they never get.”

He crossed the room slowly, deliberately. One step at a time, like he was giving you the option to stop him—but silently hoping you wouldn’t.

You didn’t.

You met him halfway.

There was no dramatic music cue. No perfectly timed lightning flash. Just his hands on your hips, your breath catching as he dipped his head close and kissed you like he’d been waiting all damn day.

And the truth?

He had.

Gabriel’s hands moved slowly along your waist, his touch warm and sure, grounding you in the quiet space between the storm outside and the storm building inside. His eyes searched yours, full of a soft question — no pressure, just wanting to know you were with him.

You nodded, breath catching in your throat.

He leaned in gently, lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was tentative at first, like a whisper. Then, as you responded, it deepened — soft and slow, savoring every second. Your fingers threaded through his damp curls, pulling him closer, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch.

His hands slipped beneath your jacket, tracing the curves of your sides with a careful reverence, memorizing the way you felt under his fingertips. You trembled slightly but leaned into him, comforted by his tenderness.

The cool air in the room mixed with the warmth of your bodies pressed together, the world outside fading into silence.

He lowered his lips to your jaw and along your collarbone, each kiss slow and deliberate, awakening a delicious shiver that ran down your spine. Your hands moved over the planes of his back, fingers exploring with quiet awe.

Garments slipped away piece by piece, never rushed, every touch and glance full of meaning — an unspoken promise in every caress.

When skin met skin, it was like coming home — safe, real, and deeply intimate.

Gabriel’s hands cupped your face as he kissed you again, slow and sure, conveying everything words couldn’t. You melted into him, every worry, every barrier dissolving in the quiet intimacy you shared.

There was no urgency, only the steady rhythm of your breaths and heartbeats syncing, the tender exploration of something real and lasting.

And in that moment, beneath the soft patter of rain on the windows, you knew this was more than just desire — it was a connection.

#starset writes #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #gabriel bortoleto x reader #gabriel bortoleto x you #gabriel bortoleto imagine #gb5 #gb5 x reader

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astonmartinii · 5 months ago

Text

mother duck | carlos sainz social media au

pairing: carlos sainz x fem presenter!reader

carlos kissed her goodbye before she went to the rookie round table, he didn’t realise she’d come back with five ducklings of her own

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,439,045 others

tagged: kimiantonelli, isackhadjar, jackdoohan, olliebearman & gabrielbortoleto

f1: head over to our youtube channel now to get to know our crop of new drivers at the rookie round table!

view all comments

user1: i have been moved

user2: more of this type of content please

user3: i think they could’ve gotten at least a couple of hours of footage here those kids love to talk

yourusername: not what i’ve been used to but a blast nonetheless!

kimiantonelli: you will be coming to all of the races, right?

kimiantonelli: right? please!

yourusername: yes, i will be there kimi don’t worry

kimiantonelli: omg yay!

user4: oh no… they’re attached…

user5: someone call carlos sainz, is he aware he’s become a father of five overnight?

carlossainz55: excuse me?

gabrielbortoleto: hi!

carlossainz55: no no no i don’t do all of this grid kid nonsense

isackhadjar: please don’t say that i have abandonment issues :(

carlossainz55: what ???

user6: bro sat back and watched charles adopt all the kids last season but now it’s his turn

user7: ollie is meant to be charles’ grid kid…

charles_leclerc: A ROBBERY?

carlossainz55: you can keep him !!!

olliebearman: you don’t want me 😢

yourusername: carlos don’t be mean to them!

carlossainz55: what the fuck is going on right now ???

user8: carlos left his gf for one 20 minute interview and now has kids ?

user9: ugh i’ve missed this chaos

jackdoohan: can we do all media with you @yourusername ?

yourusername: i don’t think so :(

jackdoohan: so not fair :(((((

jackdoohan: if we don’t have media with you can we at least come to dinner?

kimiantonelli: i’m free for dinner!

gabrielbortoleto: me too

isackhadjar: me three

olliebearman: can we get italian?

carlossainz55: nuh uh it’s date night tonight

kimiantonelli: *our date night

carlossainz55: no?

yourusername: come on carlos…

carlossainz55: fine! but just this one time

user10: it’s going to be a long season for mr sainz i fear

yourusername

liked by kimiantonelli, jackdoohan and 381,945 others

tagged: carlossainz55

yourusername: australia that’s a wrap on qualifying - a few surprises at both ends of the grid!

view all comments

user11: i am an old man who usually hates the fluffy stuff off of track but kimi going in for a hug in the media pen was very cute

user12: i think people forget just how young he is so it’s good he feels he has other people to go to in the paddock!

user13: his poor media handler looked very confused

olliebearman: can we definitely get dinner now :( talking to you in the media pen was probably the only good thing from today

yourusername: of course ollie! i know it was a tough day but you’ll get in the swing of it with the car

carlossainz55: i thought we were going to be able to shake them for dinner :(

olliebearman: CARLOS I AM IN DISTRESS PLEASE PAY FOR MY PASTA

yourusername: he clearly needs comfort!

carlossainz55: he doesn’t need comfort he’s trying to extort us

olliebearman: so you don’t love me enough to let me extort you?

carlossainz55: no?

user14: these rookies are cracking me up

user15: please strap them down in front of a camera and let them yap

gabrielbortoleto: did you see my save?

yourusername: i did! very impressive gabi

gabrielbortoleto: did you @carlossainz55 ?

maxverstappen1: so i mean nothing to you now?

gabrielbortoleto: NO! i love you max - did you see my save?

maxverstappen1: it was very impressive bubbles

carlossainz55: definitely not a ‘b grade’ driver

gabrielbortoleto: OMGGGG THANK YOU

maxverstappen1: i give up?

yourusername: i don’t really know what’s happening right now - but just go with it max, he still loves you he spoke at LENGTH about you to me just this morning

user16: these kids be attaching to anyone who looks at them

user17: they’re just like me for real

isackhadjar: looking forward to debriefing over garlic bread :D

yourusername: you were amazing today isack!

isackhadjar: hehehehehehehehe

carlossainz55: at least this one isn’t shouting at me

jackdoohan: what about me?

carlossainz55: you know what, you’ve bothered me the least so you’re my favourite

kimiantonelli: NOT FAIR

olliebearman: but i cycle?

gabrielbortoleto: but you liked my save?

isackhadjar: all i want is some garlic bread :(

yourusername: carlos! you can’t say one of them is your favourite - that’s not how kids work

carlossainz55: i never asked for this !!!

carlossainz55

liked by isackhadjar, olliebearman and 609,285 others

tagged: yourusername

carlossainz55: back in italy for imola and on a date with my favourite girl

view all comments

user18: carlos went to italy extra early so they could have dinner without the rookies intruding lmao

user19: bro is being haunted by five kids

user20: he’s better than me because i would crumble immediately

yourusername: no one else i’d rather be with

carlossainz55: i’ve missed being with you (just you)

yourusername: we’ve had just enough alone time i think

landonorris: gross

carlossainz55: not you too

landonorris: if you think about it i was technically your first kid…

carlossainz55: ONE NIGHT WITHOUT THIS NONSENSE PLEASE

user21: i think carlos might be losing his mind

alexalbon: oh he definitely is if his loud ramblings i can hear through the driver room walls

yourusername: i think he’s just like that?

carlossainz55: huh?

yourusername: you asked me on a date because you were talking to yourself loudly before our interview about ‘how pretty my smile is’

carlossainz55: my thoughts are loud!

carlossainz55: but in that instance i’m very glad they were screaming in my head

yourusername: i’m very glad too <3

user22: omg that’s such a cute/concerning meet cute

user23: the most carlos sainz thing ever i fear

kimiantonelli: i see our invite got lost in the mail?

olliebearman: and in kimi’s home country… that’s just cruel

carlossainz55: i would like ONE romantic night with the love of my life ALONE

carlossainz55: CAN I PLEASE HAVE THAT? I DON’T THINK I’M ASKING THAT MUCH

isackhadjar: you didn’t need to be that mean about it :(

kimiantonelli: i’m sorry, i just wanted to show you the best places in imola …

olliebearman: does this mean you don’t want to go cycling on thursday anymore?

jackdoohan: can i still go for coffee with y/n?

gabrielbortoleto: we just wanted to see you guys :(

yourusername: no my babies :((( we love you and of course we want to see you! we just need to have some alone time every once in a while

carlossainz55: y/n please stop feeding into this

carlossainz55: STOP SHOWING ME THE PHOTOS THEY’RE SENDING YOU OF THEIR SAD FACES

carlossainz55: FINE! WE’LL ALL GO FOR BREAKFAST TOMORROW NOW LET ME ENJOY MY NIGHT WITH Y/N

gabrielbortoleto

liked by kimiantonelli, olliebearman and 451,058 others

tagged: yourusername & carlossainz55

gabrielbortoleto: that was a big one! i’m sorry to the team but i’m happy to say that i’ll be okay and will be back for the next race. thank you y/n and carlos for coming and keeping me company in the hospital!

view all comments

user24: okay i know we’ve all poked fun at the grid kid thing and how it’s so funny that carlos hates it but for real, i’m glad they were in the paddock and were able to be there for him

user25: that makes all the jokey stuff so much better honestly

yourusername: we’re so happy you’re all okay gabi!

gabrielbortoleto: thank you for coming! i know i’m a bit of a drama queen but my parents couldn’t come from brazil so thank you for not leaving me alone :)

gabrielbortoleto: can we have a ducky sleepover?

carlossainz55: a what?

gabrielbortoleto: y/n calls us her duckies! so a ducky sleepover would be all of us coming over (and getting ice cream)

yourusername: i think that’s an amazing idea

carlossainz55: okay, okay. but i am never calling you guys duckies.

yourusername: just you wait baby :)

user26: his radio just reminded me how young him and all the other rookies actually are

user27: i want to just wrap them all up in blankets and tell them it’s all going to be okay

user28: good thing they have y/n and carlos to do that

alexalbon: he won’t tell you this but he did run back to his drivers room to get gabi a jumper and a blanket, he’s a softy for them really

yourusername: that's my man 🥰

kimiantonelli: we’re the five duckies so please refrain from flipping into the barriers again please and thank you

yourusername: kimi?!

carlossainz55: that’s not how we word these things kimi

kimiantonelli: woah i’m trying to lighten the mood

olliebearman: everyone has been a real debby downer today - like three of us got points! (this is a joke, i am happy you’re okay gabi)

gabrielbortoleto: bring the mood back down, i’ve got some more things i want to get with my sympathy points

carlossainz55: gabi???

gabrielbortoleto: fernando taught me to take advantage of anything and everything

carlossainz55: that sounds about right…

user29: why is fernando still at the scene of the crime

kimiantonelli: he’s old! he won his last championship before i was born!

fernandoalo_oficial: @carlossainz55 control your kid

carlossainz55: excuse me? after what you’ve taught gabi?

fernandoalo_oficial: oh don’t act so innocent carlito - did isack or did isack not steal all of the goodies from the media pen because he MANIPULATED the comms girls

isackhadjar: i DID NO SUCH THING

isackhadjar: i am just a nice guy!

jackdoohan: he distracted them and i took them!

fernandoalo_oficial: scoundrels

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 561,093 others

tagged: olliebearman, kimiantonelli & yourusername

carlossainz55: as much as they’re annoying - i love our duckies and it’s going to take more than one DNF to turn me against them

view all comments

user30: oh wow he is a changed man

user31: i fear this is a real mark of maturity because believe me i’d be crashing the fuck out (pun intended)

user32: i mean now he’s seen it back he defo knows that it wasn’t really any one person’s fault

olliebearman: I’M SO SORRY CARLOS

olliebearman: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FORGIVE ME

kimiantonelli: what about me ????

olliebearman: you are NOT the priority here

kimiantonelli: we have a ship name ??? does that mean nothing?

olliebearman: not right now? not when our cycling sessions are on the line?

carlossainz55: are you guys finished arguing now?

olliebearman: can you forgive me now so we can get back to arguing

carlossainz55: i told you guys there’s no hard feelings, we all got squeezed in the rain - stop stressing

olliebearman: okay thanks

kimiantonelli: thx

kimiantonelli: anyway

kimiantonelli: HOW DARE YOU NOT WANT MY FORGIVENESS FIRST?

olliebearman: omg you’re so self-involved

jackdoohan: you gonna let him say that kimi?

kimiantonelli: ME? SELF-INVOLVED?

isackhadjar: ollie i can hear him bitching from here…

olliebearman: GASP!

gabrielbortoleto: kimi… clearly he doesn’t care about the sanctity of bearnelli

kimiantonelli: i can’t believe this 😖

yourusername: right okay let’s calm it down boys

carlossainz55: no this is quite entertaining let them keep going …

yourusername: so you are the bad influence

carlossainz55: if we have to keep them around i might as well enjoy it

yourusername: really?

carlossainz55: the longer they argue and instigate, the less they are bothering us and i can actually spend time with my girlfriend

user33: this whole comment section is just one big familial domestic

user34: they are everything to me

user35: carlos can never retire now i’m sorry those are the rules

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, pierregasly and 892,304 others

tagged: kimiantonelli, olliebearman, carlossainz55, isackhadjar, gabrielbortoleto & jackdoohan

yourusername: omg all five of our duckies scored points and carlos was on the pdoium this weekend at silverstone!!! what an anniversary weekend, and our duckies remembered!

view all comments

user36: THE DUCKIES

user37: i don’t care how dumb the nickname is i love it so much

user38: free yourself from thinking everything is cringe

jackdoohan: so since you’re from silverstone, can we claim this as a home race so we can all say got points at home

yourusername: i’ve seen shakier logic from oscar so i’ll say yes!

oscarpiastri: RUDE

kimiantonelli: he’s just bitter because no one cares about his lil grid kid stunt in monaco anymore now we have y/n and carlos

oscarpiastri: omg ??? leave me alone

olliebearman: come say that to our faces 😡

jackdoohan: he won’t we out number him

iscakhadjar: 💪

oscarpiastri: you people are all like rabid dogs

carlossainz55: watch what you say about the duckies

oscarpiastri: this is crazy, you were the one who was constantly complaining about them

carlossainz55: yes well now i like them! and i don’t appreciate your tone

oscarpiastri: why weren’t you this nice to me as a rookie?

carlossainz55: eh?

gabrielbortoleto: he just likes us better!

carlossainz55: he’s not wrong…

oscarpiastri: fine! charles is a better grid dad anyway

oscarpiastri: and while we’re at it i’m gonna claim max as well

charles_leclerc: yeah i never complained about oscar, i took him in immediately!

maxverstappen1: i don’t know how i got roped into this but yeah - we’re better!

user39: you know what? sure

user40: i stopped asking questions a long time ago

user41: they got them gifts for their anniversary? that’s too fucking cute i can’t

user42: duckies you are so iconic

carlossainz55: i guess the duckies are good for one thing - gifts

yourusername: it’s definitely a perk!

carlossainz55: but i’ll deal with all of their chaos if it means being with you

yourusername: awwwww i love you too

yourusername: so much we have five kids before being married…

carlossainz55: is this a hint?

yourusername: i don’t know you tell me?

kimiantonelli: PLEASE DON’T PROPOSAL WITHOUT US THERE

jackdoohan: that is a threat

olliebearman: bagsy being a bridesmaid

isackhadjar: i know someone who can get you the eiffel tower?

gabrielbortoleto: omg my first wedding party !!!

carlossainz55: let’s all slow down for a second - i will propose but you little devils will not be involved…

yourusername: but they’re so cute 😢

carlossainz55: maybe… but only because i love you

fin.

note: kinda on fire today? i will be crashing in like two hours so i had to be productive while i could be

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 social media au #f1 #carlos sainz instagram edit #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz f1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz social media au #kimi antonelli #gabriel bortoleto #jack doohan #ollie bearman #isack hadjar

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formulafanfics13 · 1 month ago

Note

can i request some gabriel stuff? i feel like there's a lack of his content on tumblr, in general, 😭.

a suuuuper in love gabi who is dating reader for almost a year when she finally gives him the heads up and, once he starts touching her, he can't stop and ends up both him and her, but she actually loves every second of it, 💔.

I hope this is what you had in mind! I also love writing for all drivers, there are just ones I come up with plots and ideas for more easily than others! It’s not on purpose, I just need ideas, which is why I opened my requests🫶🏼

and then you said yes - GB5 🔥

Masterlist

Summary It happens quietly. Softly. Not in the heat of a club or under camera flashes or champagne buzz, but on the carpeted floor of Gabriel Bortoleto’s apartment — two bowls of popcorn between you, sweatpants on, hearts already halfway given. You tell him you want him. Not just for a moment, not just for fun. For real. And Gabriel doesn’t hesitate. He’s been waiting, loving you in silence, and now that he has you, he takes his time. He carries you to bed like something sacred. He undresses you with trembling hands and kisses you like a promise. He worships every inch of your body, it’s love, written and whispered into every kiss. This is everything. And it’s only the beginning.

Warnings first time, mutual pining, gentle/soft dom Gabriel, emotionally intense sex, oral (f receiving), praise kink, virginity loss, condom use, deeply emotional intimacy, aftercare, crying during sex (happy tears), chest kissing, neck kissing, slow buildup, dirty talk (sweet version), hands shaking, sacred vibes, genuine love, established relationship, soft boy energy, overwhelming desire, worship-level affection, pure smut wrapped in heartache and adoration.

You tell him in a whisper. Not in the middle of some grand gesture. Not over a candlelit dinner or after a showy anniversary surprise. No, you tell him on the floor of his apartment, both of you in sweats, backs against the couch, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn forgotten between you.

“I want you tonight,” you murmur.

Gabriel freezes, spoon halfway to his mouth. His eyes flick to yours. “What?”

You swallow. “I said I want you. Like… really want you. If you still-”

“I do.” His voice is hoarse. Immediate. Like he’s been holding his breath for months. “I do. God, baby. You have no idea.”

You do. You always have.

Because Gabriel Bortoleto has never looked at you like he wanted anything else. Not the cameras. Not the trophies. Not the grid. It’s always been you. You in his passenger seat. You in his arms. You in his future.

But you waited. Held the line. Let yourself be sure.

And now? Now he’s blinking like he might cry, spoon forgotten, popcorn ignored, as he sets the bowl down and crawls over to you on the carpet like he’s scared to spook you. “Are you sure?” he whispers.

You nod. His hands are shaking when he touches your cheek. “Then tell me again,” he breathes.

“I want you.”

That’s all it takes. He kisses you like it’s the first time all over again, slow, reverent, like he’s learning every curve of your mouth in case he only gets this once. His hands cup your jaw, thumbs brushing beneath your ears, and when you shift your knees apart to let him settle between your thighs, he groans.

You feel the heat of him even through his joggers. “Bedroom,” you whisper.

He nods. Picks you up like you weigh nothing. Walks you there with his lips still on yours. Doesn’t stop until your back hits the mattress and he’s kneeling between your legs with the kind of look in his eyes that steals the air from your lungs.

“I’ve waited so long to touch you like this,” he says, almost in disbelief.

You reach for the hem of your shirt and he catches your wrists. “Let me,” he says. “Please.”

You drop your hands. Let him undress you like you’re made of glass.

He lifts your shirt slowly, revealing inch after inch of bare skin, pressing a kiss to every patch he uncovers. When your chest is exposed, he just stares, eyes wide, lips parted, hands trembling.

“You’re… you’re the most beautiful fucking girl I’ve ever seen.”

You can barely breathe.

When he leans down to kiss your collarbone, his lips are so soft it almost tickles. And when his hands slip behind you to unhook your bra, they’re careful. Like this is sacred. Like you’re sacred.

You help him out of his shirt and moan when his bare skin brushes yours. His hands travel down your sides, over your hips, slow and reverent, until they reach the waistband of your underwear.

“Still okay?” he asks.

You nod. “Please, Gabi. Touch me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His fingers slip beneath the fabric and he swears violently under his breath. “You’re soaked.”

You blush. He grins. “For me?”

“All for you.”

He drops to his elbows between your thighs and kisses you just above your cunt, soft, slow, adoring. Then he licks a stripe through your folds that makes you whimper.

“Fuck,” you gasp, clutching the sheets. “Gabi-”

“Let me taste you,” he says. “Please.”

And when he does, he groans like he’s been starving. His tongue moves slow and steady, working you open with a patience that should be illegal. Every flick, every curl, every moan, it’s clear he’s memorized this moment in his head a thousand times. And now he’s trying to make it perfect.

But it’s not just perfect. It’s devastating. You come fast, overwhelmed by the love, the pressure, the heat, your whole body shivering under his mouth. He doesn’t stop until you’re pushing at his shoulder, gasping his name like it’s the only word you know.

“Too much?” he whispers.

“Not enough.”

He grins. Kisses your thigh. Wipes his mouth and shifts up, kissing your lips even though you can taste yourself on his tongue.

“Condom?” he asks.

You nod. He grabs one from the drawer, rips it open with shaking hands.

“Baby,” you say softly. “It’s okay. I want this.”

“I just-” He swallows. “I love you. I fucking love you. And I want it to be good for you.”

You cup his cheek. “It already is.”

He kisses you again as he rolls the condom on. You feel the thick heat of him press against your entrance and tense slightly. “I’ll go slow,” he whispers. “Just breathe.” And he does. He slides in inch by inch, groaning the second he’s halfway in.

“You’re so tight,” he pants. “So fucking perfect.”

When he bottoms out, both of you freeze.

It’s too much. It’s everything. Your nails dig into his back. His face buries in your neck. You’re both trembling. And then he moves.

Slow. Controlled. Every thrust dragging the breath from your lungs.

“I love you,” he keeps saying. “I love you. I love you. Fuck, I love you.”

He kisses you between every thrust. Whispers your name. Worships you with every inch of his body. Until suddenly he’s not slow anymore. Until the rhythm gets sloppy. Desperate. Until he’s fucking you like he can’t stop. Like he won’t stop. Like years of restraint are all shattering at once.

Your legs wrap around him. Your back arches. Your voice breaks. “Gabi-fuck-don’t stop.”

“Never,” he growls. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

You come again with his hand on your chest, his lips on your jaw, your body trembling under his. He follows seconds later, hips jerking, breath catching in a raw, ruined moan of your name.

He collapses on top of you. Sweaty. Shaking. Still inside you.

Neither of you speak. You just lie there. Your fingers in his hair. His arms around your waist.

Until he whispers, “I want every first to be with you.”

You smile. “They will be.”

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 smut #gabriel bortoleto #gb5 #gb5 x reader #gabriel bortoleto smut #gabriel bortoleto x reader #gabriel bortoleto x you #gabriel bortoleto imagine

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clara-a7 · 3 months ago

Text

F1 GRID || 𝙇𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙇𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚

彡CONTAINS ; kimi antonelli, charles leclerc, franco colapinto, isack hadjar, gabriel bortoleto

彡WARNINGS ; fluff

彡REQUESTED? ; No~ (requests are open!)

彡WORDS ; 1,1k

彡DISCLAIMER ; Everything written here is FICTITIOUS.

彡AUTHOR'S NOTE ; sorry if here are any mistakes, english isn't my first language!

⤷Kimi Antonelli

Kimi tries to help you with your Italian.

One night, you’re making pasta together when you try to say something you think sounds right. “Posso aiutarti a… spaghettiare?”

Kimi looks up, trying not to laugh. “That’s not a real word,” he says, shaking his head. “But it's a good start”

He’s actually patient when you ask questions or want help. He doesn’t get frustrated if you mess up. He just explains it quietly or repeats it until you get it. But if you mess up something super simple like "ciao" he won’t let you live it down. You’ll hear him say it back to you ten times a day, always with a small grin.

He really likes it when you try to say sweet things in Italian. When you tell him “sei bellissimo,” he doesn’t say much just smiles and looks at you a little longer than usual. That’s how you know it matters to him.

Sometimes he teaches you with music. He’ll play old Italian love songs while you’re in the kitchen, and he’ll explain the lyrics one line at a time calm. It’s how he shares things with you.

With Kimi, learning Italian isn’t perfect, and it’s not fast. But it’s real. It’s about small moments, shared laughs, and learning by just being together.

⤷Charles Leclerc

Charles tries to help you with your French.

He doesn’t correct you right away when you say something wrong. He lets you finish, then gently repeats it the right way. Never to make fun just to help you hear it.

One morning, you try to ask him if he wants coffee in French. “Tu vouloir… cafer-rr?” He laughs under his breath, walks over, and kisses your forehead. “Nice try. But no, it’s tu veux du café?”

He’s patient. He doesn’t rush you. If you forget a word, he’ll wait until you find it, or quietly give you a hint. And when you get something right, even something small, he gives you this soft, proud smile like he really means it.

He loves hearing you try. Especially when you use words like 'mon cœur' or 'tu me manques'. Even if your accent’s a little off, he never makes fun of it. He just watches you, quietly happy, like it means more than he says.

Sometimes he teaches you while you're doing regular things grocery shopping, walking through the city, cooking dinner. He’ll point to something and say the word in French, then wait for you to repeat it. No pressure. Just small moments, here and there.

With Charles, learning French feels natural. Not like homework more like being let into his world.

⤷Franco Colapinto

Franco helps you with your Spanish.

Sometimes when you’re out, he’ll stop and point to something: “That says ‘helado’ It means ice cream.” Then he nudges you and asks, “How do you say it?” When you say it a little wrong, he gasps. “No ice cream for you until you get it right.” (You get it right fast.)

He teaches you words at random times, when you’re brushing your teeth, walking home, or making dinner. Some words are useful. Some are just slang. “Che, boludo” he says, shaking his head. “It means like… dude. But don’t say it in front of my grandma.” (You do. Once. He still laughs about it.)

When you try full sentences, he never interrupts. He lets you finish, even if you make a lot of mistakes. Then he’ll fix one thing just one and say, “You’re getting better. Really.” And you believe him, because he only says it when it’s true.

In the mornings, he sends you voice notes sometimes with new words, sometimes just him saying, “Buenos días, mi amorrr” dragging the “r” to make you smile.

With Franco, learning Spanish feels fun. It’s full of little jokes, small wins, and real moments. You don’t even notice how much you’ve learned until one day he says something fast in Spanish, and you understand all of it.

⤷Isack Hadjar

Isack tries to help you with your French.

One afternoon, you call him 'frère' just for fun, and he smiles softly. “Frère?” he teases, his eyes lighting up. “Bro? Who taught you that?” You laugh, shrugging. “From you,” you say, making him smile.

It’s the small moments like this that make him happy knowing you’re paying attention, even when you don’t fully understand him.

He’s patient when you mess up, never rushing you or making you feel bad. He’ll softly repeat words, letting you take your time. But when it comes to bad words, he can’t help himself. He teaches you a few, like 'merde' or 'putain' and the two of you share quiet laughs when you get them wrong. “Just don’t say it around my mom,” he says, giving you a playful wink.

There’s something about the way he teaches that makes it feel less like a lesson and more like something you’re sharing together. He gently corrects you, his smile growing softer when you try, and that proud look in his eyes when you finally get it right.

With Isack, learning French is full of warmth, laughter, and easy moments of connection. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about being close, sharing something special, and enjoying each step of the journey together.

⤷Gabriel Bortoleto

Gabriel tries to help you with your Portuguese.

One night, during a late FaceTime, he’s clearly half-asleep but still insists on giving you a word of the day. “Hoje… the word is saudade.” You pause, trying to figure it out. “That’s a hard one.” He smiles, his voice soft. “It means ‘I miss you.’ A lot.” You repeat the word, and it feels like something deeper, something just for the two of you.

He enjoys teaching you words that carry weight, like 'cafuné' (the act of running fingers through someone’s hair). When you trip over the pronunciation, he gently corrects you, never rushing you. “Try again, meu bem.” And when you finally say it right, he grins, looking proud.

Sometimes, he sends you playlists filled with Brazilian songs and quizzes you on the lyrics. When you get one right, he rewards you with a sweet kiss on the forehead. “You're getting better,” he says with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

He calls you 'meu bem' so often, and before long, you start saying it back to him. Every time, it melts his heart just a little more. “You said it just right,” he whispers, his voice full of warmth and affection.

With Gabriel, learning Portuguese isn’t about perfection, it’s about sharing little moments, laughing together, and making memories that go beyond the words themselves.

✿彡did you enjoy this? comments, likes, and reblogs are immensely appreciatedミ✿

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yuyuyukiii · 1 day ago

Text

Adopt Me, Alonso! ⛐

Summary: Y/N Alonso is the paddock’s unofficial mum. She brings snacks, gives hugs, and somehow knows when you're sad before you do. Everyone loves her. But Lance Stroll? He gets pancakes, blankets, and kisses on the helmet. The rookies aren’t having it. Suddenly they're all sick, limping, and dramatically collapsing for her attention. Fernando sees through it. And Y/N? She just wants to know why six boys are fighting over soup.

Content: Fluff, weaponized clinginess, petty rookie drama, emotional fake illnesses, pancake favoritism, soup bribery, Fernando losing the will to live, Lance thriving, and six rookies auditioning for adoption like it’s The Bachelor: Grid Mum Edition.

Author’s Note 🏎️: This story was pure chaos from start to finish and honestly... I don’t even know what happened. I just had the image of Lance eating pancakes in fuzzy socks while six rookies fake-coughed for attention and it spiraled from there.

It’s dramatic, it’s ridiculous, it’s soft and unhinged at the same time. If you’ve ever felt violently jealous over someone getting the last pancake, this one’s for you.

Thanks for reading and enabling my nonsense 💚

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Formula 1 had accepted that Y/N Alonso was more than just Fernando’s wife.

She was the paddock’s comfort person. The one who brought snacks to debriefs. The one who carried spare tissues in her bag and always noticed when someone looked tired. She once hugged Ollie after a rough quali and accidentally made him cry into her shoulder for seven whole minutes. She gave Isack a cookie during a media day meltdown and he nearly proposed.

To the rookies? She was Mother. Capital M.

If you were sick, tired, sore, dramatic, hungry, overwhelmed, underwhelmed, or just needed a hug, Y/N was there. Always warm. Always smelling like jasmine and clean laundry. Always calling you sweetheart and making you feel like you hadn’t just knocked over a $25,000 front wing in FP2.

So naturally, they clung to her like ducklings.

She wasn’t a team principal. She wasn’t even a member of the pit crew. But because she was always around Fernando and Aston Martin, and because her smile made everything feel slightly less terrifying, the rookies started hovering near their garage like moths.

Until they noticed something strange.

Lance.

Lance Stroll, the actual driver for Aston Martin, was getting… extra attention.

“Did she just tuck a blanket around him?” Franco whispered from behind a stack of tires.

“She fed him a grape,” Gabriel replied, eyes wide.

“No. I swear. She just…she just told him he was ‘so brave’ for driving in the rain.”

Ollie, hiding behind a pit board, gasped. “She’s never called me brave.”

Kimi was silent. Which was suspicious in itself, because Kimi was only ever quiet when he was either deeply focused or deeply offended.

“…did she just ruffle his hair?” Kimi asked flatly, blinking like his whole world had been a lie.

The breaking point came when they accidentally overheard something behind the team motorhome.

Y/N was crouched in front of Lance, fixing his helmet with practiced hands. “Alright, baby, go out there and show them hell, okay Lancy poo?” she said sweetly, pressing a kiss to the top of his helmet.

The rookies collectively gasped.

“Did she just call him—”

“She kissed his helmet,” Franco hissed.

“Oh my god,” Ollie whispered, stunned.

Then, somewhere inside the motorhome, someone muttered under their breath, “I’m telling you, Lance has to be their son from another life. That’s why they’re so attached.”

The silence that followed was immediate and devastating.

“We’ve been replaced,” Liam muttered.

“Lance is the golden child,” Ollie said.

“Not on my watch,” Isack declared, eyes glinting with mischief. “We fake sick. All of us.”

———

Phase One: Operation Baby Duck

It started small. A sniffle here. A quiet “I think I’m running a fever” there. Y/N was immediately concerned.

“Oh sweetheart, sit down! You look flushed. Fernando, get the thermometer!”

Fernando, halfway through his espresso, stared at Isack.“You look fine.”

Isack let out a soft, tragic cough that sounded suspiciously like a fake cat hairball.

Y/N gasped. “Don’t be mean, Nando! He’s obviously struggling.”

Struggling to hold in laughter, maybe.

The next day, Liam showed up to the paddock wrapped in a scarf, hoodie, and blanket. In Singapore.

Y/N blinked. “Honey, you’re sweating.”

“I’m battling,” Liam whispered, eyes watery. “Let me hold your hand. It helps.”

By the end of the week, the rookies were limping, coughing, sneezing, and making dramatic groaning noises every time they stood up. One of them even requested homemade soup in the middle of a press conference.

Kimi took it a step further and made Fernando help him limp down the paddock hallway like he had a war injury. When asked what happened, he said “emotional fatigue.”

Fernando had had enough.

“They were literally playing football twenty minutes ago,” he muttered, watching the group pile onto Y/N’s lap like Victorian children dying of the plague.

“No they weren’t,” she said, gently stroking Isack’s hair.

“Yes. They were. I saw it. Isack was doing bicycle kicks. Kimi slide tackled Liam.”

Behind her back, the boys made faces at him. Stuck their tongues out.

Fernando pointed violently. “That! Did you see? They’re mocking me!”

She turned.

Instantly, all five looked like they were five seconds from fainting. Isack weakly held up a tissue. Ollie moaned. Franco blinked very slowly. Kimi closed his eyes like he was awaiting death.

Y/N turned back to her husband. “Fernando. They can barely stand.”

Fernando looked like he aged ten years. “I’m going to commit a crime.”

———

Phase Two: Lance Finds Out

Lance was slow to catch on. For a while, he just thought the rookies were weirdly into heating pads and asking for foot massages.

Then he walked into the driver’s lounge and saw Gabriel curled up under his team jacket, sipping tea with extra honey.

“What… are you doing?”

“Shhh,” Gabriel whispered. “Y/N said I need rest.”

“She knit me socks,” Franco announced proudly from the couch.

“They’re faking,” Lance said, backing away.

“You would say that,” Isack muttered, turning to cough delicately into Y/N’s scarf. “Golden child.”

———

Phase Three: Annoy the fck out of Fernando

Fernando eventually reached his breaking point. Again.

He walked in on five grown boys all dramatically collapsing onto Y/N’s lap like a litter of fainting goats.

“Not this again.” Fernando sighed “This is getting out of hand.”

“They’re sick, Nando!”

“They just ate six pizzas in catering.”

“They’re growing boys.”

“They were playing Mario Kart and screaming three minutes ago!”

Kimi peeked up from under a fuzzy blanket. “That was for morale.”

Isack raised a limp hand. “I need soup.”

Fernando pinched the bridge of his nose. “You said that yesterday.”

Y/N turned to him, concerned. “Do you think I should buy more tissues?”

Behind her back, Ollie dabbed his face with a napkin and whispered, “Bless me.”

Franco fake sneezed directly at Fernando.

Kimi reached out and grabbed Fernando’s pant leg. “Tell my story.”

Fernando stared at the ceiling like it personally offended him. “First it was Max and Charles. Then Lando. Then Pierre. Even Lewis did it once. I thought we were past this.”

“They were trailblazers,” Liam said weakly.

“I’m going to burn the entire hospitality unit down,” Fernando muttered, already turning to leave. “And salt the ashes.”

And yet, the next day, Y/N arrived with six fresh thermoses of homemade soup, custom fluffy socks with their names on it, and a giant blanket shaped like a duck.

“Because you’re my babies,” she smiled.

Fernando watched as six suddenly-healthy rookies fought over who got to hold her hand first.

Lance stood beside him, arms crossed.

“They’re faking.”

“I know.” Fernando hissed.

“They’re just jealous I’m the favorite.”

Fernando sipped his coffee. “You absolutely are.”

From the corner of the room, six boys screamed, “WE HEARD THAT!”

Y/N turned, startled. “Heard what?”

Immediately, Ollie gasped. “Nothing, nothing. My ears are just really sensitive from the fever. It’s probably the... wind.”

“We’re inside,” Fernando muttered.

“I need to sit down,” Liam added, dramatically lowering himself onto the floor like a dying Shakespeare character. “My legs are trembling.”

“You just jogged here.” Lance deadpanned.

“No. That was my twin.” Liam nodded gravely. “He’s much healthier.”

Y/N gently helped him up, worried. “Oh sweetheart, maybe you should lie down.”

“I love lying down,” Ollie chimed in, flopping backwards so dramatically he knocked over a chair.

“Jesus Christ,” Fernando hissed. “It’s like watching a low-budget play.”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

It started with a minor incident.

Just a casual Thursday morning at their home. Peaceful. Birds chirping. Coffee brewing. Fernando, just out of the shower, towel over his shoulder, walked into the kitchen to find…

“What is this?”

Y/N was standing at the stove. In a fluffy green robe. With her hair clipped up. Whisking pancake batter.

She looked up, cheerful. “Morning, love. I’m making Lance pancakes.”

Fernando blinked. “Lance… who is currently sleeping in our so-called guest room?” He air quoted guest room because, let’s be honest, it was basically Lance’s room at this point.

“Yes. He asked for banana chocolate chip with extra crispy edges. So I thought—”

“I thought we had a driver, not a 14-year-old on summer break.”

Y/N kissed his cheek. “He’s both.”

Just then, Lance walked in, wearing Fernando’s old shirt and Y/N’s fuzzy socks. Hair sticking up. Sleepy smile. “Mornin’.”

Fernando stared. “You’re still here?”

Lance yawned. “Yeah. I was too tired to drive after game night.”

Fernando narrowed his eyes. “You’re planning to stay here for race week again?”

“Let him,” Y/N said brightly. “He thrives here.”

Lance nodded solemnly. “Also, the Wi-Fi here’s better.”

Fernando sighed into his coffee mug.

———

It was supposed to be a quiet morning. A simple media debrief in the drivers’ room, nothing more.

And yet, here they all were: Max lounging with his feet up, Charles stealing Oscar’s coffee like it was a blood sport, Yuki arguing with Pierre over which hotel served better eggs, and Lewis humming something old-school under his breath while braiding friendship bracelets he swore weren’t for anyone specific.

All were present and accounted for.

Except one team.

“Where’s Aston Martin?” Oscar asked, looking around with a raised brow.

There was a collective shrug. The Aston Martin duo being late wasn’t new, but for some reason, this time, it had everyone's attention.

“Probably still at home,” Max said, sipping from his smoothie. “Wouldn't be surprised if Lance overslept again.”

“Or maybe,” Pierre smirked, “Lance begged for another game night. Or made them watch that weird documentary about mushrooms again.”

“Bet he asked for Y/N’s pancake recipe this morning,” Carlos added. “She always makes them for him when he’s stressed.”

“She made me chamomile tea once,” Charles sighed dreamily, completely derailing the original topic. “When I had that sore throat. Wrapped the mug in a little napkin like it was a gift.”

“I stubbed my toe before a race and she brought me an ice pack wrapped in a duck-shaped cloth,” Oscar mumbled. “I still have it. I call him Duckward.”

“She once patted my head,” Esteban said solemnly. “I had never felt peace like that.”

Lando nodded gravely. “It’s like… getting hugged by a warm Sunday.”

George walked in right then and blinked. “Are we reminiscing about Y/N again?”

“She’s literally married,” Lewis muttered, sipping his tea. “To Fernando.”

“Yeah, but she’s like… the paddock’s mum,” Nico added. “Except to Lance. He gets the deluxe treatment.”

Max grunted. “I saw her fix his hair once before qualifying. I think she licked her thumb like a real mum.”

Lando burst out laughing. “One time, I saw her pull his hoodie strings tighter because ‘he might catch a chill.’”

Someone asked. “Wait. He sleeps over?”

“Sleep over?” Ocon scoffed. “That guy basically lives with them. He has his own room”

That was it.

A small gasp came from the far side of the room. Six rookies, previously flopped like tired cats on the couch, were now upright with laser focus.

“What do you mean he lives there?” Franco said sharply.

“I thought they just liked him best because of his sad little Canadian eyes,” Liam whispered.

Kimi narrowed his eyes. “Own room?! Has his own room?!?!?”

“Wait. They got heart pancakes?” Ollie whispered.

“Strawberries?” Kimi added with the kind of betrayal usually reserved for soap operas.

Gabriel clutched his chest. “They played board games together?”

Liam clutched the arm of the couch like it had betrayed him. Gabriel blinked at the floor like he’d just discovered the meaning of life. Kimi pouted so aggressively.

“Why do you all look like kicked puppies?”

“He’s the favorite child,” Ollie declared, pointing accusingly at a wall as if Lance might be eavesdropping from behind it.

Charles blinked. “He is their only child.”

“We are too,” Franco said indignantly, like this was a known fact.

Max laughed. “You guys are just getting the kindness treatment. Believe me, we all did what you’re doing now.”

The rookies turned, six heads snapping in unison.

“We all faked it,” Pierre said. “Once I claimed I had shin splints and she massaged my legs for twenty minutes while humming a lullaby.”

“I lied about a fever and got tucked in on the motorhome couch,” George said wistfully. “Two blankets. Cinnamon tea. She kissed my forehead.”

“Kissed your—” Liam choked.

Lando leaned back smugly. “One winter test, I coughed once. Got soup, a throat spray, and got to wear her scarf for the rest of the week.”

“I once pretended I forgot how to open a water bottle,” Pierre admitted.

“I claimed I couldn’t walk straight,” Oscar added.

“I was genuinely sick once,” Yuki muttered. “Didn’t even get a text. She was too busy wrapping Lance in three blankets and calling him her baby boy.”

“He is her baby boy,” Oscar deadpanned.

“Bro,” Franco whispered. “What if… what if we’ve only scratched the surface.”

Gabriel nodded slowly. “We need to go deeper.”

Kimi suddenly gasped. “We fake amnesia.”

“No,” Liam said, deadpan. “Too far. We start with fainting.”

“I want the duck towel,” Ollie declared.

“You can’t just ask for Duckward,” Oscar said, horrified. “Duckward chooses you.”

Fernando walked past the open door just then, paused, looked inside, and slowly narrowed his eyes. “You’re all planning something.”

“No, we’re not,” the rookies said in terrifying unison.

Fernando squinted at them. “Don’t even think about it.”

“They’re sick,” Max said mockingly, nudging Charles.

“They’ll be sick if they try to touch Duckward,” Oscar muttered.

At that moment, the door opened.

Y/N walked in first, carrying a bottle of syrup, a fork, and gently guiding someone behind her with a warm hand on their back, like a proud mum dropping her kid off at school.

Then came Lance, well-rested, smiling, holding a plate of pancakes she’d clearly made for him, and wearing a knitted beanie with Lancey stitched across it in cursive.

Complaints

“There’s the pancake,” Ollie hissed.

“He has a nickname beanie,” Kimi said, near tears.

Ollie, muffled under a blanket, muttered, “I want a nickname.”

“You can be Sicky Ollie,” Max offered.

Liam stared. “She made him pancakes.”

“She made him a custom beanie?” Gabriel whispered, scandalized.

“That’s it,” Franco hissed. “Life is really unfair.”

While staring at Y/N, Who handed him the fork first. Pancakes stacked neatly, syrup already drizzled in a perfect swirl.

He beamed at her and immediately scanned the room for a spot, clearly aiming for the floor, as usual.

And just before Y/N turned to head back out and return the syrup bottle to hospitality, she paused, looked over her shoulder, and said very casually, too casually…

“Sit at the table, Lance. I refuse to have my son act like he was raised in the woods.”

As soon as Y/N left the room, chaos erupted.

The room froze.

Fernando blinked slowly. “Oh no.”

“Son?! Son?! Soooooon?!?” Franco shouted.

“You’re not even the youngest!” Kimi pointed out.

Ollie, voice trembling, whispered, “So he really is the favorite…”

“We’re not even second best,” Gabriel mumbled.

“You’re stealing our sick points!” Isack accused

“I’m her son,” Lance said through a mouthful of pancake. “Cry about it.”

“Stop being dramatic,” Fernando sighed. “She’s literally… oh, for the love of… Franco, get off the floor.”

“No. This is my villain origin arc.”

Y/N returned to see six devastated rookies staring at her like she just announced she was disowning them. Kimi looked like he might cry. Ollie clutched Liam’s sleeve.

Fernando stood in the corner like a man who had seen war. When she turned to him with raised brows, he just gestured at the chaos.

“They heard that,” Fernando muttered. “You called him your son. Now look…back to fake coughs and tragic little expressions.”

“They are sick,” Y/N scolded lightly without looking.

“They were just running down the paddock ten minutes ago.”

“They’re pale now.”

“They’re making faces at me behind your back. Again.”

Y/N turned around. The rookies, with Oscar-worthy performances, had gone limp and lifeless. One gave a weak cough. Another moaned.

Fernando stared. “You’re all little demons.”

Kimi cracked an eye open. “We prefer emotionally neglected children.”

Y/N gasped. “Fernando! Look at them. They can barely sit up straight!”

“They’re lying.”

“They’re adorable.”

“Unbelievable,” Fernando muttered as six clingy “patients” clung tighter to his wife.

Max passed Fernando a protein bar without looking up. “Told you. It’s a phase.”

“I hate this phase,” Fernando muttered. “I want a refund.”

“You got a wife and seven sons,” Charles said. “Congratulations.”

“I’m going to burn that beanie,” Franco whispered to Isack.

“Right after I get my forehead kiss,” Isack muttered back, pulling the blanket tighter.

And Fernando, surrounded by his fake-sick adopted sons, pancake-eating favorite child, and far-too-kind wife, sighed.

He was never going to win.

And thus, the hierarchy was clear.

Lance was the son. The rest were pretending not to be auditioning for adoption.

And from that day on, the fake illnesses doubled in frequency, dramatically increased in flair, and Fernando started carrying a laminated “They’re Faking” sign that he held up every time someone groaned near Y/N.

END.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 5 months ago

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Max's ducklings

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Max one-shot with the rookies. If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

The first time you jokingly referred to the rookies as yours and Max’s ‘kids,’ it had been just that—a joke. A harmless, offhand comment made while watching Kimi tail Max through the paddock like a lost puppy. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but then Gabriel had started tagging along too, and soon, Oliver was trailing after them both.

It became a running gag between you and Max. Every time you saw one of them lingering near your boyfriend, you’d nudge him and whisper, “Your sons are waiting for you.” Max would roll his eyes, grumble something in Dutch under his breath, and pretend not to care. But over time, the joke started feeling a little too real.

You were the one who noticed it first. Max would casually check on them in the garage, making sure they had everything they needed. He’d offer Kimi a few words of advice about tyre management, remind Gabriel to stay out of trouble on the track, and even critique Isack’s qualifying performance like a strict but well-meaning father. And it wasn’t just them—Liam, Oliver, and Jack, who had already taken their first steps in F1, had somehow joined the ever-growing group.

“They’re not my kids,” Max insisted one evening after a race, arms crossed as you teased him about it. “They’re grown men. They don’t need parents.”

You smirked, sipping from your drink. “Oh, really? Then why did you tell Kimi not to overwork his tires like that again? And why did you give Gabriel that pep talk about confidence? And why did you tell Isack to ignore the media when they criticized him?”

Max scowled, grumbling into his beer. “They’re just young. They need guidance.”

“They need parents,” you corrected playfully. “And, like it or not, you’ve become a dad.”

Max groaned dramatically, but he didn’t argue.

The paddock caught on quickly. Social media was soon flooded with memes about ‘Papa Max’ and his ‘ducklings.’ A particularly viral post had an edited picture of Max and you, your faces photoshopped onto a mother and father goose, with Kimi, Gabriel, Isack, Liam, Oliver, and Jack waddling behind you. Even Christian Horner joined in on the joke one day, patting Max on the back and saying, “How’s fatherhood treating you?”

You expected Max to brush it off, maybe even get annoyed. Instead, he just sighed and muttered, “Exhausting.”

The real shift came after a particularly rough race weekend for Isack. He had made a mistake during the race and spun out, leading to a wave of criticism online. Pundits started questioning if he was even good enough for F1, and some of the comments were downright cruel. Normally, Max stayed out of these things. He rarely engaged in media debates that didn’t involve him directly. But that day, in the middle of a press conference, a journalist brought up Isack’s struggles, asking Max if he thought the young driver was cut out for the sport.

Max’s response was immediate. “Isack is a talented driver. He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t. It’s easy to sit behind a screen and criticize, but racing at this level is incredibly difficult. He’s learning, like all of us did when we started.” He leaned forward slightly, gaze sharp. “Maybe people should stop expecting rookies to be perfect and let them grow.”

Your phone buzzed almost instantly with messages. ‘DAD MODE ACTIVATED’ read one from Lando. Another from Liam simply had a bunch of crying emojis.

When you saw Max later that evening, you couldn’t help but tease him. “I think that was the most dad-like thing you’ve ever done.”

Max groaned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. You defended him like a protective father.” You wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I think deep down, you love your little ducklings.”

He huffed, but there was no real irritation in it. “I just don’t like seeing young drivers get ripped apart when they’re trying their best.”

You grinned. “Uh-huh. Sure. And next, you’ll be giving them bedtime stories.”

“If they stop making stupid mistakes, maybe.”

From that moment on, Max stopped fighting the joke. He still pretended to be exasperated when the rookies stuck to him like glue, but he never turned them away. When Liam had a tough weekend, Max was the first to check in on him. When Kimi finally had a strong race, Max clapped him on the back and muttered, “See? Told you it’d come.”

One day, as you watched the six young drivers standing around Max, hanging onto his every word as he gestured animatedly about car setups, you smiled to yourself. He’d never admit it, but Max had fully embraced the role.

Later that evening, as you two walked back to the motorhome, you leaned into him with a grin. “So, how does it feel to be a dad?”

Max groaned, shaking his head. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

He sighed, glancing back over his shoulder toward where the rookies still lingered in the paddock. “Fine. Maybe… maybe it’s not so bad.”

You grinned, slipping your hand into his. “Our little family.”

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #gabriel bortoleto #kimi antonelli #isack hadjar #rookies #oliver bearman

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kenniesf1 · 1 month ago

Text

in burning red | CL16

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: charles needs a date to his brother's wedding and yn is famously obsessed with him

tropes: strangers to lovers, social media AU

ln.yn

liked by yoursibling, lorde, and 801,247 others

ln.yn wrote a song called "red," it's NOT about charles leclerc (trust me chat, i wish it were 😭🙏). out now!!!!

view all comments

user1 she can write the most real songs ever, but her crush on chalres leclerc is the most relatable thing about her

yoursibling stop ruining f1 for me

ln.yn you know what now im gonna ruin it even MORE hoe

user2 im in love with her

user3 and she... is in love with charles leclerc

user4 when the finna is tea but the chile is gag (this music is about to EAT)

oliviarodrigo song of the year!!!!!!

ln.yn that means a LOT coming from youuu 💞

user5 can we collectively make a kickstarter to buy her a paddock pass 😭

ln.yn i would not be opposed to that 🧐

user5 OMG YN YOU REPLIED TO MY COMMENT???

user6 someone inform charles of his #1 fan pls

user7 HELL YEAH YN LN #3

user8 guys if yncharles happens it'll be like tayvis except she's travis

user9 YOU'RE SO RIGHT

troyesivan answer my texts bitch

ln.yn you leave me on read for days stfu

charles_leclerc playing red - yn ln

liked by lando, georgerussell63, and 1,023,184 others

charles_leclerc Leo and I like this song

view all comments

ln.yn HOLDDDDD THE DAMN PHONE

charles_leclerc hello

ln.yn ...hello

user11 focus less on girls and more on winning a race pls!!!

user12 holy annoying ahh

pierregasly shooting his shot

arthur_leclerc he better, he needs a date to lorenzo's wedding

user13 YNCHARLES?!?!?

oscarpiastri Can I petsit Leo?

charles_leclerc maybe, son

user13 il predestinato ❤️

carlossain55 i am more aesthetic than you

charles_leclerc whatever you say 🧎‍➡️

scuderiaferrari Our favorite (and Charles is there too) liked by author

lewishamilton roscoe's waiting on that playdate, mate

charles_leclerc we can't let our dogs become better partners than we are

user14 im concerned for yn

ln.yn posted a story!

ln.yn flying to monaco for the first time!!!

view all comments

user15 im worried for charles leclerc's safety

user16 She's so gorgeous 🥰

user17 omg my queen posted

charles_leclerc cute

charles_leclerc posted a story!

charles_leclerc Se préparer pour le jour du mariage avec les idiots 1 et 2

view all comments

user18 the leclerc brothers 🔥

arthur_leclerc les deux idiots dont vous parlez doivent être vous-même

ln.yn voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?

charles_leclerc lady marmalade

user19 eek!!!! i can't wait for lorenzo's wedding!!!

user20 yn in the comments AND charles replied WHAT

ln.yn

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, and 843,871 others

ln.yn lorenzo and charlotte, i know i just met you, but i need you to adopt me. amazing, amazing wedding with an amazing, amazing date (thank you charles_leclerc)!!! i can't thank all of the leclercs for letting me be here for such an important and beautiful moment. safe to say, monaco is my new favorite place ❤️🤍

view all comments

user21 OMG YN AND CHARLES DATE???

user22 she needs to teach us her ways

user23 hg has been PINING

lorenzo_leclerc Thank you for accompanying Charles (we didn't want him to look lonely)

ln.yn it's okay (just pay me later) 😉

charles_leclerc ☹️

user24 she look so prettyyyy

user25 her and charles look so good together it's wild

user26 yn knew before anyone else did

charlixcx hot

ln.yn im partying 4 u

user27 yesss, we needed her to get new music inspo

user28 the charles songs are gonna SLAP

charles_leclerc thanks for coming with me, chérie

ln.yn thanks for inviting me 😊

charles_leclerc round 2? drinks?

user29 OH HE'S SMOOTH (operator????)

ln.yn yes, round 2, but this time on my turf (you're gonna love manhattan)

lando i ship it 👍

charles_leclerc

liked by scuderiaferrari, yourbestfriend, and 1,029,054 others

charles_leclerc Lorenzo, mon frère aîné, ma plus grande inspiration, et Charlotte, la meilleure belle-soeur de tous les temps, se sont mariés ! Je suis tellement heureuse pour vous deux, vous méritez tout et plus encore. J’ai passé des moments formidables à célébrer avec vous, je vous aime et je vous dois tout à tous les deux.

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carlossainz55 happy wedding, enzo and charlotte!

oscarpiastri Congratulations!!!

lorenzo_leclerc Je t'aime, mon frère

ln.yn charlotte and lorenzo, my pinterest board wedding and couple!!

charles_leclerc girl comment that on their post, on mine say i'm pretty

user30 DOWN BADDDDD

user31 i love them so much!!! i wish i were there

user32 charles looks yummy

user33 is this yn's secret acc?

ln.yn NO i would say on my main that he looks yummy

scuderiaferrari We love the Leclercs in this house

user34 yncharles mention!

maxverstappen1 congrats, guys! i wish you the best!

user35 mad max is being so nice 🥺

arthur_leclerc i looked better than you

charles_leclerc maybe shut up, this is ENZO'S DAY

a week later

charles_leclerc posted a story!

charles_leclerc date #2 with ln.yn 🫶

view all comments

user36 she's so beautiful, can charles fight

user37 i love them together

user38 AWWW i love my yncharles

user39 the next yn album will be a BANGER

user40 cuties!!!

ln.yn hey you're nice!

the first charles fic! hope y'all like it <333

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ynbabe · 3 months ago

Text

Be Untrainable ୨୧ Rookies+grid x Male! Driver! Reader

The one where the rookies are menaces and somehow the worst culprit? Y/n L/n, i.e. the 4 times Y/n caused his Pr manager to cry and the 0 times he got into trouble for it.

It was gonna be 5 but I decided that part could be a standalone with reader x franco so lemme know if yall wanna read that.

F1 was sacred, it was also a battle ground and what would a war be without its soldiers. Unfortunately the youngest, the futures of the prestigious sport, were absolute menaces that couldn’t be media trained by even the best.

The rookies were all walking around, excited for the race, the Australian gp. Interrupting their gossip, an interviewer stopped them, flashing a mic and camera in their faces before they were prepared.

“Hello rookies!” The man started, and the rookies smirked at eachother, interrupting their sacred gossip time could only mean one thing- chaos.

“Uh, hi!” Y/n answered for the group, jumping from behind hanging his arms around Ollie and Jack.

“Oh, hello! Y/n L/n, the boy of the hour!” The mic was shoved to him. “So there’s rumours around that you’ll be sitting out the practice sessions?” He asked vying for scandal and if it was scandal he wanted scandal he was going to get.

Y/n pulled down his shades just a bit, signature smirk on his lips, “oh yes, I’m out for paternity leave!” He laughed, startling everyone around him. The interviewer was awkward not knowing if he hit a gold mine or if he had to shut the camera.

“Paternity?” He asked for clarification.

“Oh yea- Ollie’s the mum,” he nudged Ollie’s hips with his making the rookies cackle and the interviewer peeved.

“OI!” Ollie yelled, “what gender roles are we pushing here?!” He looked from the group to the camera, a fake pout on his face.

The group was uncontrollable at this point, only boldened further by Y/n.

“Who else, sweetheart, you know you’re the only one for me!” He fake kissed, Ollie moving last minute to not let it land on his lips, “what!? Oh come on-”

Gabriel pushed y/n calling him out, Isack yelled over all the voices, “Y/n you’d be a dad many times over if it was possible, yea- Salope!”

Your eyes widened pushing him back, and looked to the camera like it was your own show rather than an interview, “he called me a slut! Did you get that! That was slut in French, right?” You looked around for confirmation.

The interview looked done by this point, scoffing and rolling his eyes, when Kimi waved his hands as if to clear the air, “he has-eh- what do you call in English? Wisdom removal?” More laughter, “Yea! Wisdom teeth removal!” He answered looking proud of himself.

The group had moved on and the interviewer asked to cut the camera.

The next day the clip had gone viral, and Y/n only added to the fire.

ynlnunofficial

ynlnunofficial THEY TOOK MY FUCKIN TEETH- also thanks @/olliebearmen for driving me and giving me a beautiful daughter 🥹😂

userone omg whose child is that 😭

usertwo these rookies don’t play man tfym they actually got a child for the bit-

userthree HELLO? are we sure they aren’t actually dating? Cause wdym he drove him after his wisdom tooth removal

jackdohaan DID YOU STEAL A CHILD

olliebearman NO-

ynlnunofficial YES (it’s his niece) unfortunately I can’t get him pregnant

userfour BRO WHAT 💀

charlesleclerc I am too young to be a grandfather- Oliver explain yourself!

olliebearman uh- I- @/ynlnunofficial!

ynlnunofficial I was joking I swear! Pls don’t tell my pr manager😭🙏

The next time was after the race, Kimi had a spectacular race and the rest of you? Well most had shunted into the wall and you? You had to be sent to the medics, the crash opening the stitches from your surgery, making you bleed from your mouth.

As usual, podcasters and pandits had a lot to say about that. Calling you and the rest of the rookies failed investments, unfit and even some going as far as useless. For you, one woman had even gone as far as calling you dangerous.

“Well, if he focuses more on driving rather than opening his mouth, there wouldn’t be blood or his foot in it right now, ” she’d said, “he’s dangerous! Today it’s him bleeding, tomorrow it’s someone else!” She continued. Y/n tried not to take it to heart, after all, the best drivers were called dangerous, and he had a long career ahead of him, right? Well, no time to ponder life when you had to go to Kimi’s party, well technically it was Lando’s party but rookies gonna support rookies.

kimiantonelli has posted a story

(a thirty-second clip of Y/n and Lando dancing closely and taking shots, pulling each other close and jumping to the music and Y/n turning towards Kimi and flashing a card to the screen pointing to it and screaming, making Kimi and others scream behind the camera as well)

kimiantonelli drinks on Lando for rest of the night!!

ynlnunoffcial

ynlnunoffcial Lando appreciation post + rookie after party!!

landonorris WHY IS THERE A 5000 CHARGE ON MY CARD??

ynlnunofficial ASK LIAM! HE WANTED CHAMPANGE

liamlawson Y/N TOLD ME HE WAS PAYING

ynlnunoffcial KIMI TOLD ME TO TAKE LANDOS CARD

kimiantonelli YOU HAD TO JOIN CREDIT FRAUD CLUB!

landonorris YOU DIDNT HAVE TO DO SHIT!?

userfive mind you, this post is after he stole his card.

usersix this is why he's dangerous!! This is a crime! He shouldn't even be a driver

userfive stfu obviously its a joke, do you think lando would be talking to him if he was actually pissed?

maxverstappen thank you for the g&t's y/n- i mean Lando 😂

ynlnunofficial OMG MAX- i mean you're welcome

landonorris woooowww im telling zak

You had gotten some backlash over the card 'theft', but hey, it was Kimi's idea, so you weren't the only one on the chopping block. Unfortunately, EVERYONE loved Kimi, and while you had a cult following, people definitely didn't like you like they loved the Italian.

After that night, Max had invited you on his jet, an invitation that had got you jumping in your room with joy till you realised you were still violently hungover and had to run to the washroom.

Max was your hero, and everyone had noticed, while most rookies said their idols were Micheal Schumacher or Lewis, you were the opposite; it was always Sebastian, Mark or Max. Your love for Red Bull ran deep, noticable by anyone, and the minute you could get that seat, you were going to jump. Fortunately, it didn't cause much tension between you, Liam and Isack, though.

On the flight, it was you, Max, Liam, and Lando. Yuki and Isack choosing to take their own travel.

You were practically vibrating with excitement. This was Max! Max Verstappen, 4 time world champion and an absolute legend and your idol, and he invited you to travel with him! How could you not be excited?

Liam knew about your slight obsession with Max, choosing to tease you about it on the way over.

“You’re just jealous that after today he’ll be my grid dad,” you puffed your chest with pride making Liam stutter.

“Wh-what? Absolutely not! He’s no one’s grid dad! He’s 26 and why would I be jealous?” He looked like an angry penguin, if penguins could even look angry.

You bounded up the private jets stairs, “See! You’re already jelly- he’s my grid father now, blondie, SUCK IT-” you yelled as you walked, Liam following you shaking his head, looking up to god as if asking ‘why me, man? Why me?’

“You are insane-” he’d begun when he saw you sitting right next to Max, where he’d usually sit, but was interrupted by Lando.

“I agree, Max why is this absolute menace on our plane?” He asked out loud with a grin, showing there was no real heat behind his words.

Max looked at the man across him, amused, “Our plane? I think you mean my plane, that I so graciously allow you on? For free?” He deadpanned, making Lando wave his hands.

“Tomato, potato-” he stopped himself to shake Liam’s hand, where Y/n had forced Max to move so he could sit in the window seat, Liam, even though younger had accepted his aisle seat.

“So, menace, what brings you to Air Max, today?” He smiled at the rookie, who looked like a puppy on caffeine- an unhealthy amount of redbull if Liam had to guess.

The younger blonde had begun to answer when he was promptly kicked, “Free travel and I’ve never been in a private jet before,” he answered animatedly.

He looked around nervously as the plane took off, clutching the arm rests making the rest of the men laugh.

“Aww are you scared!?” Liam cooed, making the rest laugh and Y/n scowl.

“Man, shut up-” he grabbed on harder when some turbulence hit, “it my first time flying without my dad, okay?” You felt like a 10 year old again, not missing the soft looks of pity the older men cast at you.

Thankfully, a stewardess came by with a cart full of drinks, the majority of them being different flavours of Red Bull. You jumped with excitement, both Liam and Max pushing you back in your seat. Lando and you looking at them in surprise.

“Wha-“ you’d begun but Liam interrupted you this time.

“No you gremlin, you’ve already have five!” He yelled, making Lando gasp.

“Five?” He asked,

“Five!” Liam replied like it was a musical.

Y/n looked to Max with pleading eyes, hoping the other redbull addict would understand, but nope.

“Sorry, kid, your Pr manager already told me not not to let you have any, apparently you become a ‘safety risk’ and she doesn’t have time for another ‘international incident’ whatever that means.” He shrugged.

But Y/n was relentless, he pulled his best Leo Leclerc impression, “but you have the new summer edition, the people need to know my thoughts! Think of the people, Maxie!” You yelled.

Lando had a matching glint in his eyes, happy that the target would now be someone else, “Yea, Max, think of the people.”

Max was about to give in, but looking at the panicked look in Liam’s eyes and the strong shaking of his head told him he’d have to listen to authority on this one. He told to stewardess to get them all some water much to Lando’s and y/n’s chagrin.

It turned out to be a blessing in disguise (for y/n atleast,) because when he fell asleep half way through the flight, knees to his chest, head in between his knees, Max couldn’t help his paternal instincts.

“Oh my god, he looks like donut,” he whispered, making the others look at him weirdly, “like Donatello, my cat,” Lando gasped.

“HE DOES-” he yelled, Max immediately shushing him.

“You are going to wake the kid!” He hissed quietly, placing his much larger jacket around the boy. Y/n, who seemed to notice the disturbance, moved but didn’t wake up, instead resting his head on Max’s shoulder. The older man stayed still instead of waking him up.

Liam’s eyes widened, “No fucking way- that Bastard- he actually did it-” he said to himself.

Lando, on the other hand, was taking pics, much to Max’s annoyance.

landonorris

landonorris @/maxverstappen has a new cat @/ynlnunoffical

landonorris just want everyone to know their favouraite war criminal is actually a softie

userseven lol which criminal Max or y/n?

landonorris Max mans didn't move an inch for five hours cause 'the kid's asleep'

userseven omg lando replied to me!! also omg Max and y/n 🥹

liamlawson I was also on the flight???

ynlnunofficial HAH get replaced bitch Max is MY GRID DAD NOW

liamlawson YOURE AN ADULT!!

ynlnunofficial told you you'd be jelly

liamlawson can you just be normal pls

ynlnunofficial @/maxverstappen @/charlesleclerc dad, mom- liam's bullying me!!

charlesleclerc why am i here? and why am i the mother?

usereight omg i love this kid so much

usernine pls their comments are killing me 😭 Liam's getting the full younger sibling experience.

userten not lando calling Y/n a cat 😂

Races weren’t going good. Australia was ofcourse the rookie killer, in the next your tires decided they didn’t want be tires anymore, the third was going well till Nico wanted to feel gravel… and take you with him and Bahrain? Well atleast nothing happened there but you didn’t get points. No where near actually. Hate was at an all time high, one mistake and you were dangerous again. Jay walking? Put him jail, messing around with your friends? You’re a distraction trying to sabotage their races. Post? You’re more focused on being an influencer than a driver.

Everything was getting too much, so of course, you could only think of one thing.

You ran to gather the rookies, Ollie and Kimi were ready, Isack, Jack and Gabi even more so, but Liam looked like you'd dragged him out of bed (you had).

“Men, today were gathered here for a holy purpose-” you began, trying to look as priestly as you could.

“I’d like to go back to bed!” Liam yelled, making Isack shush him, which caused them to start fighting between eachother.

“SILENCE!” You whisper-shrieked, “as I was saying, we’re here on a mission- a mission to steal Leo Leclerc-” another interruption.

“WHAT?” Barked(ironic huh?) Liam, trying to get others to see the stupidity in your actions.

Fortunately, everyone else was just as insane, “no no, let him speak,” said Jack,

“He’s got a point,” shrugged Gabi.

And that’s how there were seven of you outside Charles Leclerc’s room (curtesy of Ollie, of course.)

You heard the water running inside and knew this was the moment.

“fuuuuuckkkk-” you let you, dragging your hands down your face to everyone’s surprise, “the door?” You pointed out to everyone, their faces immediately accepting the information and falling with defeat.

“Well I guess we can go back to bed now,” Liam smirked, happy you looked pissed off.

Gabriel stepped ahead, shoving Liam making him falter, “not so fast,” he cracked his knuckles and pulled a card out his pocket. Everyone’s eyes widened as it actually opened the door.

You were astonished, “wha- how?” Everyone around was in the same shock. You looked into Gabi’s eyes and saw a whole new man looking back… a whole new bunch of opportunities too.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not telling you shit!” He whispered into a cackle as the pushed the handle down.

“If I didn’t want to kiss you right now,” you muttered, pushing him.

The scene was almost comical, seven rookies with their heads peaking through the door, stacked with a Scooby doo scene, and one Leo Leclerc gnawing on what looked like… a sock?

“Psst, pssst, here doggy-” Isack called making the dog look up and honest to God roll his eyes.

Jack smacked him from above,“ he’s a dog, idiot,”

You shushed them both, “none of you are doing this right,” you said pulling out a strip of bacon from breakfast, making Kimi bellow you squirm.

“How long that has been in your pockets?” He asked revolted.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You winked before turning to Leo, still chewing on the sock, “Leo, look what I have! It’s bacon! Doggies love bacon!” You waved it in the air to nothing but a huff and judgmental look… from more than just the dog. “Bougie ahh dog what does Charles feed you-” you began to complain when the shower stopped.

Suddenly everything was completely still- you could see the dust particles fall, and the shallow breathing of the boys above you. You were all currently peeping into Charles Leclercs room-without invitation- right as he was coming out the shower!

Then everything moved, you fell to the ground, trying to shield Kimi from the weight of six others, when you saw a blond run out in front of you and run out a second later. The door closed as fast and quiet as possible and then you all were running back to your room. Panting and staring in surprise.

“What. Happened!?” Ollie screeched, looking at you, and for the first time, you didn’t have an answer.

Then there was a yip, then silence… then jumping on Liam- half to scream about him finally getting involved and the other to get Leo.

ynlnunoffcial

ynlnunoffcial BOYS SLEEPOVERRR + Leo for emotional support @/charlesleclerc you should get him therapy certified atp

charlesleclerc THATS WHERE LEO IS??? I THOUGH I LOST HIM I CRIED

maxverstappen its true he called me

ynlnunoffcial in our defence were about to kill ourselves 😫

liamlawson don't let that picture fool you, kimi and y/n slept for exactly five (5) mins

olliebearman mate i usually love pillow fightsThe- THESE IDIOTS WERE FIGHTING A PILLOW WAR

isackhadjar just to let everyone know my football team won

ynlnunoffcial just to let everyone know Leo chose me (1st pic is proof)

usertwelve THEY STOLE LEO??

Usertwo man why are yall shirtless (my girls on here man chill)

userone bro forget your girl im ovulating

userthree youre literally a man 💀

userfour talking about teenagers btw-

The sleepover had gone wonderfully, and everyone was a bit more relaxed. Leo had chosen to sleep in Ollie's lap after being cuddled by you all night (between the pillow fights).

There was only the quiet hum of the TV, with the occasional TikTok, when there was a loud banging on your door.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" A monacan voice yelled.

"OH SHIT" yelled seven others.

564 notes · View notes

dannyriccsystem · 4 months ago

Text

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER TEXTS

Summary:

Your/Their sibling takes your phone and says some meeeaan things.

Warnings: Insecure drivers! Mostly crack though

Featuring: GB5, IH6, JD7, KA12, LL30, OB87

Requests open! ☆

GABRIEL BORTOLETO - GB5

—

ISACK HADJAR - IH6

—

JACK DOOHAN - JD7

—

KIMI ANTONELLI - KA12

—

LIAM LAWSON - LL30

—

OLIVER BEARMAN - OB87

Thank you for the “request”! @makanirock05

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amg-petronas-princess · 21 days ago

Text

𝔾ℝ𝕀𝔻 𝔻𝔸𝔻 — 𝕄𝕍𝟙

summary: From accidentally becoming the grid’s unofficial dad to preparing for fatherhood for real.

max verstappen x wife!reader smau

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, yukitsunoda0511 and and 1,203,333 others

yourusername apparently @maxverstappen1 has unofficially adopted the 2025 rookies. we’re now running a daycare with carbon fiber flooring and too many helmets. wish us luck. 💀

olliebearman he gave us a lecture on tire wear. it’s day one.

kimi.antonelli do i call him sir or dad?

isackhadjar he yelled at me when i called the halo “the head thingy”..

georgerussell63 weird. no one gave me a tour.

carlossainz55 oh now he’s a mentor. cool. cool cool cool.

danielricciardo Verstappen Family Values™.

alex_albon remember when Max said “I don’t like people”? yeah me too.

maxverstappen1 i’m literally just trying to make sure they don’t break anything.

yourusername too late. ollie already pulled a fire extinguisher.

yourusername

liked by isackhadjar, kimi.antoneli and 940,440 others

yourusername Verstappen Boarding School for Lost Boys🎓

stars of the night: ollie for bringing his helmet. kimi for asking if popcorn has electrolytes.

maxverstappen1 you forgot Liam asked if senna was a director.

olliebearman popcorn DOES have electrolytes idc.

kimi.antonellii still don’t get what an apex is but the movie was good.

pierregasly you are raising them WRONG.

valtteribottas I was once like them...

lando.jpg was it at least good popcorn??

yourusername

liked by liamlawson, olliebearman and 1,230,303 others

yourusername the garage was quiet. then Isack yelled “fight me” and Liam did. ollie and Kimi started a podcast. Gabriel almost drove fernando’s scooter into the pit wall....

isackhadjar I was defending my honor.

liamlawson we agreed there were no rules.

kimi.antonelli wait this isn’t for our youtube channel?

olliebearman my vlog cut out right as max started yelling 😔

gabriel.bortoleto I understand data now (i don’t).

fernandoalo_oficial never again.

maxverstappen1 I booked a one-way flight. don’t wait up.

yourusername this is what happens when i’m on lunch break for TEN minutes.

alex_albon wait they touched the car?!?

lewishamilton not even i would let them near my rear wing.

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, Charles_leclerc and 1,860,867 others

yourusername we hosted “movie night” and somehow ended up with the entire grid in our living room. @maxverstappen1 tried to enforce a lights-out rule. he lost. never again. never ever again.

maxverstappen1 they broke the remote.again.

yourusername you snored through both Cars movies.

lando.jpg okay but that Mario Kart tournament went hard.

pierre_gasly I didn’t even get to PICK a movie.

alex_albon was not me who spilled the soda. allegedly.

Charles_leclerc we forgot someone at the gas station btw...

danielricciardo: was it Logan? it’s always Logan.

fernandoalo_oficial I brought culture. and hummus.

isackhadjar please tell Max I cleaned the sink...

kimi.antonelli can we come back next weekend?

olliebearman if we bring snacks???

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 1,393,848 others

yourusername @maxverstappen1 is officially getting promoted from grid dad to actual dad 💙

olliebearman wait we’re the big brothers now???

kimi.antonelli dibs on teaching the baby apexes 😭

isackhadjar can we get matching baby race suits?

georgerussell63 don’t let them babysit. i’ve seen ollie try to microwave pasta.

lando.jpg baby’s first words gonna be “sector time”.

charles_leclerc I want godfather rights.

danielricciardo uncle Danny reporting for duty🫡

lewishamilton the Verstappens are becoming a dynasty and I'm stressed.

maxverstappen1 someone already tried to buy it a mini helmet. it was Isack.

yourusername it has begun 🍼.

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