#IH6 X reader

[mickyschumacher]

this locker room is a godsend 🙏

[jadore-f1]

Don’t make me wait | IH6

Synopsis ♡ Your relationship with Isack is going extremely well and you're ready to take it to the next level. 4.5k words

A/N ♡ can’t believe that after 10 years in fandom culture, i'm posting my very own fanfic. The writing isn't great, the dialogue is eh and the smut is rushed but i WROTE this. I'm so proud of myself.

Warnings ♡ SMUT! 18+ mdni!!! Fem!reader, Strong language, google translated french, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, switch!Isack (sorta), he has a filthy mouth, p in v, protected sex (pls do this!), grammatical errors, this is barely proofread tbh, probably other things idk

You and Isack had been officially dating for just over a month now, though the two of you had been dancing around your feelings for much longer than that. It all started at the preseason “Meet the Grid” dinner. He was the promising new rookie and you, a wide-eyed media intern just trying to stay out of the way and do your job.

You didn’t even speak to him that night. Just watched from across the room, quietly taking in the way he seemed to slot in so easily with the senior drivers. He was charming, warm, and effortlessly magnetic. It was hard to look away. When he eventually caught you staring, his smile shifted, softening into something less media-trained and more… curious. You turned away quickly, heart pounding, trying to mask the flush crawling up your neck and ignore the flutter low in your stomach.

Yeah. You were immediately smitten.

It continued like that for a while, lingering looks across the paddock, stumbling through interview questions because he’d say something that could’ve been considered flirting if you thought about it long enough. (you didn’t though or at least tried not to, no way he would be flirting with you)

For a few weeks things never went any further than that. You figured he was too busy finding his footing as a rookie to even think about dating, and he was convinced you were either completely oblivious to his flirting or just too kind to turn him down outright.

When the Melbourne grand prix incident occured you felt your heart sink for him. You’d fought with yourself the entire day before finally just deciding to bite the bullet and reach out to him on instagram that night.

@youruser: Hi, I’m not sure if you know me but I work in the paddock

@isackhadjar: yes __ hi! we’ve met before, what’s up?

@youruser: I saw what happened today so i just wanted to check in, you know if you need a friend or a place to vent completely unbiased i’m available!

@youruser: …Not saying you don’t have people, just figured an outside perspective might help. Plus, I’m a pretty good listener

@isackhadjar: lol don’t worry i did not take it that way

@isackhadjar: how about coffee tomorrow morning?

@youruser: sure! Does 8:30 work for you?

@isasckhadjar: perfect, it's a date :)

And the rest was history. He'd asked you out officially somewhere in between the Bahrain and Saudi Arabia races and you’d been basically attached at the hip ever since.

Because the relationship is still so new, there are things you're both still discovering about each other. Little details, unspoken boundaries, milestones you haven't quite reached yet.

The most obvious one is the physical side of your relationship. So far, it's been limited to quick good luck kisses before quali or races, and soft, grounding hugs when the weekend doesn’t go his way. That’s it. And you’re okay with that. You're more than happy to follow his pace. You understand how complicated things can get when you're constantly under a microscope, with cameras everywhere and millions of fans analyzing your every move.

But still… as time goes on, it's hard not to want more.

You're willing to wait—of course you are. You’d wait as long as he needed. In the meantime, you make do with your imagination and the handful of photos tucked away in a private folder on your phone. No complaints. No pressure. Just quiet longing, and the hope that when he’s ready, you’ll be right there.

Then Monaco happens.

You’re waiting in his drivers room like you do after every race, drivers get a 10-15 minute break after each race before they have to enter the media pen so you and Isack use this time to catch up in private otherwise you’d have to wait until the end of the day just for a moment alone. He steps into the room and you’re on him the second the door closes.

“P6 Zack! P6 in Monaco! Baby I can't believe you pulled that off!” you say in between little pecks all over his face, he’s still sweaty but you don’t care at all, too hyped up on adrenaline and something else you don’t want to name yet.

“I know! I can hardly believe it either!” He laughs but he sounds exhausted, hell he looks exhausted, face flushed red and the imprint from his earbuds still visible on his cheeks yet the grin never leaves his face.

When you try to step back to give him breathing room he just makes a small sound of disapproval and pulls you closer, hands tightening around your waist until you're pressed fully against the warmth of him. He lays his forehead gently against your own and just takes a deep breath, like he's trying to ground himself in the moment. You stay like that for a minute reveling in the silence because you know any moment now you're going to have to leave and return to the chaotic world outside your bubble. Eventually you pull back a little just to look at him again.

“I'm so so proud of you Isack” you push his sweat slicked hair back from his eyes and hope he can tell how much you mean it. He leans into you again like he can't bear the small distance you've created.

“Merci mon ange” he whispers before pressing a searing kiss to your lips. It's hot, wet and nothing like any of the kisses you've had before.

One of his hands travels from your waist to the back of your neck, fingers tangling into your hair while his thumb rests on the hinge of your jaw moving your head exactly where he wants it.

His tongue presses against the seam of your mouth and you open up immediately—there's no point in denying it, not when you've been dying to kiss him like this. It makes your brain all fuzzy around the edges.

Your hands move to explore as well, one immediately gripping onto his bicep bulging through that skin tight fireproof shirt that has definitely made a few appearances in your dreams. The other lightly scratched at the short hairs on the back of his neck, causing him to shiver and let out a breathy little noise. Fuck. you want to hear that again.

You pull away from his lips and theres a string of saliva still connecting you together, you wipe your thumb against his bottom lip to remove it and he presses a gentle kiss to the pad it, his hand coming to cover yours and he continues to press kisses up, up your arm until he reaches your neck. He nips and licks up and down your neck and until he finds the spot that makes you arch into him, then he bites down.

“Haah- is-isack no fair I can't do the same to you” you manage with a keen.

“Sure you can, just gotta be somewhere discrete bébé” you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

He sounds so smug you can't help but tease him a bit, moving your leg so it's in between his. you press upwards grazing him with just enough pressure.

“Oh putain” he hisses out, hands tightening on your hips, he thrusts forward seeking out the friction again but you remove your leg before he can get it.

“Ok! Baby i'm sorry just please do something please” he whines out, his hips thrust up again chasing any type of pleasure he can get. He looks so good like this, all desperate just from a bit of teasing.

“Oh poor Isack, you get this hard just from kissing?” you pout at him sarcastically. The power you feel right now is unfathomable, you could get used to this. If only he knew how soaked you are between your thighs.

“Since you did so well today I guess I can't be too mean, what do you want? My mouth or my hands?”

“Your mouth please i-” someone bangs on the door of the trailer and you both jump a mile in the air.

“Hadjar! You're late for post race interviews let's go!” his PR manager yells from outside.

You sigh empathetically. He sighs as well tilting his head back against the door like he can’t believe his luck.

“Can't believe I have to talk about my best race finish with blue balls.” he mutters, adjusting himself so it's not as noticeable. You can't help but giggle. He glares at you with a look that says ‘this isn't over’ and heads out the door.

“We’ll finish this later ok!” you yell after him with another laugh.

Later doesn't come that night (and neither do you) or the rest of that weekend for that matter.

That’s the thing about triple headers. It’s three weeks of non-stop chaos, travel, and work. Between back-to-back races and packed schedules, finding even a single quiet moment alone feels impossible.

The tension from Monaco still lingers though. Looks across the paddock are now charged with something heavy, good luck kisses are a little longer, deeper, hungrier. It feels like you’re a balloon seconds away from bursting.

Things finally settled down after the race in Spain. Isack scored points again, and it was amazing to watch. He was steady, focused, like he was really starting to find his rhythm.

To celebrate, the two of you went out for dinner at a cozy, authentic Spanish restaurant Carlos had personally recommended. The food was incredible, the atmosphere relaxed, and for the first time in weeks, it felt like you could both finally breathe.

Now, back in the quiet of your hotel room, you're winding down for the night, full, content, and maybe just a little bit tipsy on red wine and the heated glances shared over the candlelit table.

Technically it’s Isack’s hotel room, you have your own on another floor with the rest of the media team but what your supervisor doesn’t know won’t hurt them.

You’re freshly showered and in one of his shirts and some boy shorts just scrolling on social media waiting for him to finish up in the bathroom so you guys can cuddle and start a movie.

The bathroom door swings open, and without looking up from your phone you call out

“Zack, I swear if they don’t give you Rookie of the Year, I’m burning the FIA to the ground.”

He laughs, voice warm and easy. “Love the energy, bébé, but then we’d both be out of a job.”

You glance up to respond, but the words catch in your throat.

You’ve seen Isack shirtless before on the occasional social media post—but never like this. He’s standing by the dresser, back to you, rummaging for something, muscles shifting under damp skin. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, clinging just enough to make your mind go blank. His curls are still wet from the shower, starting to dry into that soft, messy wave you adore.

And it hits you.

That’s your boyfriend.

This sweet, ridiculously good-looking, insanely talented man is yours.

How the hell did you get so lucky?

“You’re staring mon ange.” he says softly and you don’t even have it in you to pretend to be embarrassed because now he’s facing you while leaning against the dresser and you can see everything.

Your eyes zero in on the sweatpants again, they’re so low you can see his v-line and the trail of dark hairs leading down beneath the waistband.

You let your eyes trail upwards over the naked skin of his torso, still glistening from the shower practically begging you to lick the droplets of water up yourself.

But honestly it’s the chain around his neck that does you in. It’s shining against his skin and it makes you want to wrap your fingers around it and tug him closer to you like a leash, makes you want to watch it dangle in front of your face, makes want the feel the cool metal pressed against your own heated skin while he poun-

“Ehem” he raises his brows in amusement and your face does heat up this time.

“You just look really good right now” He preens under the compliment, standing straighter and flexing under your gaze.

“Oh? is that why you’re looking at me like you want to eat me?” he steps closer to the bed.

“Amongst other things.” you give a sly smile, scooting towards the edge of the bed.

When he reaches you, you stand up on your knees so you two are face to face. his hands find their place on your waist and yours around the back of his neck. You go to lean in for a kiss but before your lips meet you feel him, solid and warm against your leg.

It’s your turn to raise your brows in amusement now and he scoffs playfully. “I can’t help it, bébé—you’re in my shirt and barely anything else, telling me how much you want me.”

You tilt your head, feigning innocence, though the curve of your mouth betrays you. “I didn’t realize stating facts was such a crime.”

He steps closer, eyes flicking down for the briefest second before settling back on yours, smoldering. “It is when you say them like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you know exactly what you’re doing.” His voice is low, thick with the weight of restrained desire.

You bite your lip, a slow smile forming. “Maybe I do.”

He lets out a soft, breathy laugh, hands rubbing soft circles on the skin of your waist with maddening ease. “Then don’t start something you’re not ready to finish.”

“I’ve been ready since Monaco,” you murmur, fingernails lightly raking down his chest. “And I always finish what I start.”

He lets out a stuttered gasp—your turn to make him breathless.

You tilt your head up and your lips meet in a passionate kiss, all teeth, tongue and weeks of build up.

Isack kisses you like a drowning man gasping for his first breath of air. It's desperate, consuming. Like he’s trying to burrow his way into your very soul. And you’d let him. You’d let him claw through your ribcage and settle into the space you’ve always kept open just for him.

Your lips part ways and you fall back onto the bed, slowly scooting up toward the headboard. He follows without hesitation, crawling over you until he’s hovering above. For a moment, you both pause, eyes locked. There’s no awkwardness, no uncertainty you might expect from a first time, just a quiet heavy knowing that every heated moment before now has been leading to this.

“__ are you sure?” he asks softly. You want to tell him that you’ve never been more certain about anything in your life. That there's nowhere else you'd rather be than right here, taking in every detail of his face, the way the city lights cast golden shadows across his features. But the words catch in your throat, too full, too much.

So instead, you just nod and reach for that damn chain, pulling him back to you once more.

your lips meet the skin where his jaw and neck connect, nipping and sucking there lightly just enough to leave a faint mark.

“I still owe you from Monaco, yeah?” you breathe into his skin.

“No you don’t have too.” he denies but you just scoff playfully and switch your positions so he’s lying on his back and you're on top, legs straddling his hips.

“Gotta finish what I started.” you grin and peck his lips before making your descent down his body. you pause at his chest tugging one of his nipples between your teeth softly just to hear that pretty little whine again before kissing your way down to the edge of his sweats.

The imprint of him is hard to miss and you can’t help but run your hand over the bulge and squeeze. his body jolts like he’s been electrocuted.

“Oh mon Dieu bébé, s'il te plaît, ne me taquine pas!” you don't know exactly what he's saying but the impatience of his tone gives you a clue. Oh my God baby please don't tease me

“Relax baby, I'm gonna give you what you want.” your fingers curl around the waistband of his sweats and you pause there, looking up into his eyes again with a silent question. He nods supportingly, bottom lip tucked between his teeth and his hips raise towards you. His sweats and boxers come down together.

Holy shit.

He’s not overly large, very proportional to his body but the thickness of him takes you aback. He has the kind of width that you know you'll be feeling for the next couple days. The tip is flushed red dripping in precum, your fingers wrap around the base and start kitten licking at his leaking head.

“mph-oh fuck” he makes a sound like the air has been punched from his lungs and your thighs clench together in response. His head falls back into the pillows. He’s so sensitive it’s driving you insane. Normally giving head is your least favorite part of sex but his reactions have you retracting that mindset.

You open your mouth and fully take him in going as far as you can, using both hands to cover whatever you can’t reach. his hips twitch up subconsciously and you gag.

“Putain, je suis désolé mon ange, feels so good” he rasps out. you just moan in response and the vibrations pull another breathless whine from him. Fuck, i’m sorry angel

you pull off of him with a subtle pop, hands continuing to work him over while you catch your breath.

“Do you want to cum like this Zack?” you ask and receive no reply.

He’s too blissed out, eyes closed, thrusting up into your fists.

you stop moving your hands and he cries out pathetically. his upper body bows towards you and when you meet his glistening eyes you almost feel bad for ripping away his impending orgasm. almost.

“I asked you a question.” it takes him a moment to find his senses and respond.

“I want it to be inside.” His voice is several notches deeper and the darkness in his gaze sets fire to your veins. His hands slide up your thigh, under the edges of your (his) shirt.

“Take this off cherie.” tugging it up with his assistance, you're completely bare with the exception of your little sleep shorts.

“C’mere.” he mutters softly, pulling you up to him again. Your lips connect, softer than your previous kiss but just as passionate. Your upper body presses up against his and the coolness of his chain makes you shiver in delight, giving you goosebumps.

You sigh deeply, body sinking into him further in contentment. He groans in response, hands tightening around your hips as he uses his bodyweight to flip your positions so he's on top. He presses up onto his palms beside your head. His biceps are on display like this and you can't help but lean up and bite one of them.

“Eh? What was that for?” he asks with a shocked laugh. You shrug with absolutely no shame.

“I've always wanted to do that.” he laughs again while you just gaze at him lovingly. When he catches your stare he bites his lip and the soft moment heats up again.

“Can I feel you now, cherie?” he asks softly, you nod and he's tugging off your shorts immediately, tossing them somewhere behind him. When you're completely bare for him he sits back on his haunches with a look of awe. You try to close your legs together under his unwavering stare but his hands grasp your thighs firmly keeping them apart.

“Ange, tu es tellement mouillée que ça dégouline sur les draps.” he says, thumbs rubbing warm circles on the underside of your thighs, it's nice but if he doesn't touch you properly soon you might explode. Angel, you're so wet it’s dripping onto the sheets

“Please Isack don't tease” you whine out. He smirk’s fingers lightly grazing over your center.

“It's no fun being teased, is it bebe?” he grins cheekily, “You had such a mouth on you earlier. Use it and tell me what you want.”

“Fuc- I want you to touch me.”

“I am touching you.” his thumb presses into that bundle of nerves rubbing light circles but you’re too worked up, it’s not enough.

“Ah Zack please!” you cry out grabbing his forearm in an attempt to drag his fingers where you really want them.

“Mmm ne pleure pas bébé, tu sais que je te donnerai toujours ce que tu veux.” his fingers slip into you and your vision whites out. Don’t cry baby, you know i’ll always give you what you want

“Oh shit- yes!” you moan, back arching off the bed, hands gripping the sheets. God his fingers are so nice, thick and callused from years of driving.

“Feels good baby? Putain, tu ne sais pas depuis combien de temps j'ai rêvé de ça.” Isack leans down on the arm not between your legs, brushing the sweaty hair from your eyes and laying his forehead against yours. Fuck, you don’t know how long i've dreamt of this

“Look at me, yeah? Wanna see you fall apart on my fingers.” you want to break away from his intense gaze but the hand grasping your hair keeps you right where he wants you. You’re practically drooling while his fingers abuse that sweet spot inside you.

When you feel yourself getting closer you try to warn him but all that comes out is “a-ah Zack i’m comi-ah!” before your eyes roll back and you claw your hands down his shoulders.

“Yeahhh fuck bébé that’s it.” he works you through your orgasm slowing his fingers down when you stop spasming around him. you feel him placing little kisses on your face and chest while you struggle to catch your breath.

You pull him in for a soft appreciative kiss and he melts into you. He slots himself in between your legs and you feel him warm and sticky against your inner thigh. You look down between your bodies and catch a glimpse of him, rock hard and tip fire engine red from lack of attention.

“You know, tonight was supposed to be about you.” you reach down to stroke him, he lets out a sharp hiss and grabs your hand to pin it beside your head.

“Continue comme ça et cette nuit se terminera tôt pour nous deux, making you feel good makes me feel good too don’t be silly.” he chastises you lightly. Keep it up and this night will end early for us both

Your legs raise higher up to his hips, opening yourself up to him more and he positions himself against your core, sliding between your folds covering his cock in your slickness before stopping at your entrance. He reaches over to the nightstand for his wallet for a condom, quickly tearing the wrapper and rolling it into himself.

“Can you give me one more?” you nod quickly and he grins “That’s my girl” The slow press of him into you has your breath catching in preparation of the thickness of him. He immediately clocks your hesitation and links his hand with yours, little pecks placed onto your lips in hopes of distraction.

“I got you mon ange, relax.” you do as he says letting out a deep sigh and he pushes in slow and steady until he bottoms out completely.

“You’re so pretty like this.” he nuzzles his nose against yours lovingly.

“Isack!” you groan out, hips grinding against his own with need “Oh God please move!”

“I know baby I know- just need a second.” he grits out, whole body shaking in barely contained restraint. He pulls his hips back until just the tip is there and then slides all the way in again. His pace speeds up and you’re losing your mind.

All you can focus on is Isack, the look of him all sweaty, lip between his teeth and his abs flexing as he pumps himself inside you again and again. You can’t even tell him how good he’s making you feel, the only thing coming out of your mouth is little ‘ah-ah-ahs!’ and broken intervals of his name.

Isack seems to be having the opposite effect though, his mouth won’t stop running.

“I’ve wanted you like this for so long, since that fucking dinner party.” The hand not still linked in yours slides down onto your stomach and presses down just below your belly button and you scream.

“Fuuuck yeah bébé” he lifts one of your legs over your shoulder, cock reaching into you so impossibly deep.

“Wanted you so bad in Monaco too, would’ve told my manager to piss off just so I could bend you over that sofa in my drivers room.” he grunts out voice rough from exertion.

“And you’d let me too huh pretty girl, let m-oh fuck let me take you in that tiny room where everyone could hear how good I make you feel.” you clench around him hard at the thought. “mph-yes yes Zack please don’t stop!”

“Mon dieu look at you.” he’s babbling more to himself now, getting closer and closer to his peak. “Comment je suis censé penser à autre chose maintenant ? Je pourrais vivre dans ta chatte.” How am I supposed to think about anything else now? I could live in your pussy

His hips switch into a deep grind, pelvic bone brushing against your clit in a way that has you seeing stars.

Your orgasm hits you so quickly you don’t even have time to think let alone warn him. Your cunt spasming around him pushes him to his climax soon after and he wails out hotly against your throat.

“Holy shit.” he whispers before collapsing on top of you, sweaty and spent. He rolls over to toss the condom in the bin before immediately pulling your back into his chest.

It’s silent for a while, you two just basking in the afterglow before he presses soft kisses onto the back of your shoulders and neck.

“That was worth the wait, no?” you have no idea how he can sound so smug so soon after but you can’t help but agree.

“Of course, just never make me wait that long again.” you joke, turning in his arms to face him. Hands tracing over those beauty marks you love so much.

“We can go again if you want.” he says, wriggling his brows with a cheeky smile.

“Isack!” you laugh pushing his head away.

Ending was shit but thank you sm for reading! hope you enjoyed! 🫶🏾

[nottivagos]

Hear me out, free use with Isack, but he's the one offering himself to you. Had a bad day? Why don't you ride his face about it? All he needs from you is a hand down his chest and a please, and he's ready to go. - 🦋

HOLY SHIT 🦋, I AM SO SORRY I NEVER ANSWERED THIS EARLIER. like, it's so obvious that isack can sense the anger and stress radiating off of you, and the way you just are mentally searching for that punching bag you can use to get it all out.

he definitely let's you take control. hungrily kissing and nibbling at his bottom lip as you grind his lap, and he just allows it! at the end of the day, he'll do anything to make you feel better!! soon enough he's whimpering, and normally you'd tease him for this, but today? oh, you want him fucking quiet. soon enough, both of your clothes are discarded onto the floor and you're straddling his chest.

you're just staring down at him, face slick with sweat, hair stuck to his skin, cheeks flushed and breathing raised as your cunt just throbs with pent-up stress. "ride my face, amour," he rasps, pupils blown wide as he just looks up at you in awe of your anger.

and something just snaps in you, you're on his face, rutting your cunt as his mouth latches onto your folds, his large nose bumping your clit as you use him just like he wants you to for the evening <3. (he may even utter a "thank you" as you come on his face, coating him in your juices.)

[cheftsunoda]

wait, what? — ih6

smau + real life

lewis hamilton x !daughter reader

isack hadjar x !model hamilton reader

Isack grew up idolizing Lewis Hamilton — posters on the wall, interviews memorized, the whole deal. But nothing could’ve prepared him for the moment he unknowingly asked out his daughter. One minute, he’s shooting his shot… the next, he’s dating a Hamilton.

fc : halima saadiyah

not proofread — still trying to brainstorm ideas for new series— send me any requests!

—

whotfisnaya

liked by lewishamilton, kikagomes, charles_leclerc & 1,348,308 others.

whotfisnaya : can’t talk rn doing hot girl shit

(also ferrari get your shit together or so help me god😁🔪)

—

kikagomes : my gf lover angel gave me flowers when i landed this morning 💘💋🤩🥹

liked by whotfisnaya

whotfisnaya : take notes pear, this is why she is mine

liked by kikagomes

pierregasly : I lost her to you a long time ago..i just quit fighting

username00 : don’t feel bad pierre, it’s just part of the hamilton charm

liked by whotfisnaya & kikagomes

lewishamilton: Bub. What did we say about threatening the new team already? At least give them a full season.

liked by whotfisnaya

whotfisnaya : my patience is out. i choose violence.

lewishamilton : I will not be making any further comments on that. You look beautiful, princess! Miss you.

liked by whotfisnaya

whotfisnaya : thank you fatherrrr💘 see you this weekend!

liked by lewishamilton

charles_leclerc : welcome to the ferrari family, naya!

liked by whotfisnaya

whotfisnaya : idk how you’ve made it this long leclerc…i would’ve crashed out and burnt everything to the ground like 3 years ago

liked by charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc : I’ve thought about it…but i just keep going back

whotfisnaya : stockholm syndrome. ferrari free my man from these chains

liked by charles_leclerc and alexandrasaintmleux

georgerussell63 : only 6 races into the season and I already miss you (somehow)

liked by whotfisnaya

whotfisnaya : you try so hard to act like you don’t love me but i think you cried harder about me leaving than you did about dad

lewishamilton : can confirm

whotfisnaya : tell big man toto to be prepared because i am coming over next race

liked by georgerussell63

georgerussell63 : mario kart?

whotfisnaya : sigh. yes GR

carlossainz55 : psssst. it doesn’t get any better naya

liked by whotfisnaya

whotfisnaya : im glad you’re free my friend

whotfisnaya : gonna start some mid season contract negotiations for him — im tired

whotfisnaya : WHO WANTS 8 (🖕🏻) TIME WORLD CHAMPION LEWIS HAMILTON ON THEIR TEAM

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, pierregasly, lando, olliebearman, and oscarpiastri

lewishamilton : naya honey there is a reason I have professionals do this

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seen by 12,453,389.

—

There’s something about the Ferrari red that still doesn’t feel real. I’ve spent most of my life watching my dad win in silver, black, even turquoise—but red? It still throws me.

Still, I can’t lie… he wears it well.

I stroll into the paddock, dodging cameras and a few fans with sharp eyes. Sunglasses on, credentials tucked into my jacket, I keep my pace casual. Familiar.

“Look who decided to show up,” Dad calls before I even reach the Ferrari garage. He’s leaning against the wall in his race suit, arms folded, exuding the exact same energy he’s always had before lights out—calm, confident, and just a little smug.

“Didn’t want to miss my favorite guy in red,” I say, stepping in for a quick hug. He pressed a kiss to my temple.

Charles appears beside him, grinning as always. “You mean me, right?”

“You’re definitely top three,” I tease. We share a hug.

We fall into easy conversation—something about tire strategy, Charles’ espresso addiction, and how dad had to clear things with Ferrari after my recent…comments online.

It’s comfortable here. Familiar. But after a while, I shift my weight and check the time.

“I’m gonna go find Ollie,” I say, casually, but I see the way Dad lifts an eyebrow.

“Just friends,” I remind him before he can say anything.

“I didn’t say a word,” he replies with a smirk.

Charles, of course, does. “That’s not what your dad’s face says.”

I roll my eyes and walk backward toward the exit. “You two need new hobbies.”

—

The Haas garage is less polished than Ferrari’s—more wires, more noise, more energy. It feels alive.

Ollie spots me right away, lifting his helmet slightly and grinning. “You’re late.”

“You’re early,” I shoot back.

We fist-bump and fall into step, walking along the edge of the garage. “We’re still on for that sim day next week?” he asks.

“Obviously.”

As we walk, someone else joins us— shorter than Ollie, dark curls, relaxed smile.

“Oh—Naya, this is Isack. Isack, Naya.”

I offer a small smile. “Hi.”

Isack returns it, maybe a little too quickly. “Hey. Uh… sorry, are you new to the paddock?”

Ollie snorts. “You could say that.”

I shrug. “I’ve been around a while.”

He holds out a hand. “Well, it’s cool to meet you. Are you, like… press or PR or something?”

I shake his hand, biting back a grin. “Something like that.”

Ollie coughs pointedly but doesn’t say more. I shoot him a look—don’t you dare ruin this.

Isack turns slightly red, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re probably used to being around all this, huh?”

“Yeah,” I say, eyes flicking back toward the sea of red where my dad is doing media interviews. “You could say it runs in the family.”

—

I didn’t mean to hang around the garage that long. Really, I didn’t. But somehow, after Ollie wandered off to a briefing, I was still there—leaning against a pit wall, sipping on a bottle of water, chatting with Isack like we’d known each other longer than just a few hours.

He was easy to talk to. Surprisingly easy. Funny in a quiet way. Charming in a not trying too hard kind of way.

“So, you’re not press. You’re not PR. But you are paddock fluent,” he says, leaning on the wall next to me, arms crossed.

I smirk. “Observant.”

“And you won’t tell me what you actually do?”

“I like mystery.”

He laughs. “Alright, Miss Mystery. You coming to the after-party tonight?”

I tilt my head. “Depends. Are you going?”

“I might now,” he says, eyes glinting. “If I knew someone cool would be there.”

My smile softens, but I keep my voice even. “I’ll think about it.”

He pauses for a beat, and I can feel the shift—the way his tone gets just a little more serious, like he’s testing the water.

“Okay, real question,” he says. “Do you want to get coffee sometime? Like, not here. Somewhere… quieter. Just us.”

For a second, I just blink at him. He still doesn’t know. Still doesn’t realize who I am.

And it’s kind of… nice.

“Are you asking me out, Isack Hadjar?” I ask, folding my arms with a playful smile.

He grins, a little sheepish. “I think I am, yeah.”

I pretend to consider it, tapping my chin. “Hmm… you’re cute. And bold. I respect that.”

“So is that a yes?”

“Maybe,” I say, letting the word hang. “But only if you promise not to freak out when you find out who I am.”

His smile falters, just a little. “Should I be scared?”

I grin. “Terrified.”

Just then, I hear someone call my name—one of the Ferrari PR girls, waving me over.

“Duty calls,” I say, stepping back.

He watches me go with a slight frown. “Wait, are you actually someone famous or—?”

I shoot him a wink over my shoulder. “You’ll figure it out.”

Lando and Max stood next to Ollie and the rest of the rookies who were watching intently.

“He doesn’t have a clue who she is, does he?” Max asked with a smirk present on his face.

“Nope.” Ollie said with a chuckle.

—

whotfisnaya

liked by olliebearman, isackhadjar, charles_leclerc & 2,277,843 others.

whotfisnaya : i was told no more threatening ferrari so idrk what to caption this paddock dump

—

charles_leclerc : out of all the pictures you chose THAT one naya

liked by whotfisnaya

whotfisnaya : that’s what you get for stealing my phone charles

scuderiaferrari: thank you naya. we appreciate you for trying

liked by whotfisnaya

whotfisnaya: id appreciate you guys trying some actual strategy

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and carlossainz55

username00 : NAYA😭

isackhadjar : so nice to meet you today, naya!

liked by whotfisnaya

whotfisnaya : nice to meet you love!!

olliebearman : and to think you tried to tell me the ears weren’t a fashion statement

olliebearman : i look GOODt

liked by whotfisnaya

whotfisnaya : bitch u look good with a t at the end…or whatever tf saweetie said

georgerussell63 : half of our mario kart time was taken up by you and toto gossiping

liked by whotfisnaya

whotfisnaya: god forbid a girl and her bestie catch up

whotfisnaya : still gave me enough time to beat your ass

georgerussell63 : i demand a retrial

whotfisnaya : you just want to hang again

georgerussell63 : blah blah details

username7 : her and toto gossiping omg

—

whotfisnaya added to her story!

seen by lando, olliebearman, lewishamilton & 2,278,358 others.

lando : does he know yet?

whotfisnaya : girl ur so nosey…and no

olliebearman : get in there isack!!!!

whotfisnaya: hate u 💘

lewishamilton: Hm. Who?

whotfisnaya: I don’t kiss and tell father but you will meet him soon.

lewishamilton : Sigh. I’ll go ask Toto.

whotfisnaya: that man would never spill my secrets, not even to you.

—

I wasn’t even nervous. Okay, maybe a little. But it wasn’t like a real date, right? Just coffee. Just… two people getting to know each other, in a quiet café tucked away from the chaos of race weekends. No pit lane, no photographers, no Ollie looking smug in the background. Just me and Isack and some overpriced espresso.

He was already there when I arrived — black hoodie, cap pulled low, sunglasses on like we were undercover spies instead of two mildly recognizable faces. He stood up when he saw me, smile soft and completely unguarded.

“You made it,” he said, sounding almost surprised.

“I said I would,” I replied, sliding into the chair across from him. “Do I strike you as unreliable?”

“Not at all,” he grinned. “Just… cool enough to bail at the last second if something better came up.”

I shrugged. “You’re lucky I like coffee.”

We talked for over an hour. About everything and nothing. He told me about his first karting crash, the fact that he still forgets to pack socks on travel weekends, and how much he actually hates running, no matter what his trainer says. I told him about the cities I’d lived in growing up, my obsession with baking shows, and my ongoing feud with Ferrari’s coffee machine.

(That part almost gave me away. But he didn’t catch it. Not yet.)

At one point, he leaned back, just watching me over the rim of his cup.

“What?” I asked, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

“You’re hard to figure out.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” he said quietly. “Not at all.”

The silence between us was warm, not awkward. Comfortable. Which is probably why I blurted it out before I could overthink it.

“So… I’m having a birthday thing at the end of this month. It’s kind of a mix of family and friends, not a huge party, but you should come.”

He blinked, like I’d just asked him to join me on a trip to the moon. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. Why not?” I took another sip of my coffee and added casually, “You’re fun. I like you.”

He smiled, and it was the kind of smile that didn’t need any clever reply.

“I’d love to come,” he said finally. “What should I wear? Are we talking jeans or, like, red carpet-level fancy?”

I laughed. “Definitely not red carpet. Just… look nice. And maybe be ready for a few surprises.”

His brow furrowed. “What kind of surprises?”

I smirked. “You’ll see.”

—

whotfisnaya

liked by isackhadjar, georgerussell63, olliebearman & 2,389,294 others.

whotfisnaya: life’s been cute or whateva

—

lewishamilton: I always thought I spoiled Roscoe the most and then I came back and you had ordered him every vegan item off the menu.

liked by whotfisnaya

whotfisnaya : that’s my boy right thurrrr— he asked me for it all and I deliver

lewishamilton : yeah on my credit card

whotfisnaya: duh

georgerussell63 : so honored to be included in a dump alongside your soft launch

whotfisnaya : only added because carms looks so cute

carmenmmundt : love you naya❤️❤️

liked by whotfisnaya

georgerussell63 : BETRAYAL

olliebearman : oh so we’ve moved into a soft launch era?

whotfisnaya: I literally should have never taught any of you men that phrase

—

isackhadjar

liked by whotfisnaya, olliebearman, yukitsunoda0511 & 424,289 others.

isackhadjar : lovin’ life

—

olliebearman : getting close with the in laws I see?

this comment has been deleted

olliebearman : who is the lady?!

isackhadjar : nunya

olliebearman: that’s a weird way to spell naya.

whotfisnaya: oliver stop being a menace

yukitsunoda0511 : 🔥🔥

username00 : him having Lewis’ daughter in his likes and his dad comforting him must feel amazing

—

lewishamilton

liked by whotfisnaya, charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 & 4,397,298 others.

lewishamilton : Happy birthday to my favorite girl in the world. Watching you grow into the woman you are today has been the greatest privilege of my life. You’re smart, bold, kind, and full of fire — just the way I always hoped you’d be. Keep chasing what sets your soul on fire. I’ll always be in your corner. Love you endlessly.

—

olliebearman: ofc the one day isack avoids instagram- sigh. HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAYA LOVE YOU

charles_leclerc : happy birthday mini hamilton! can’t wait to celebrate you.

georgerussell63 : to the biggest most lovable menace on the planet— happy birthday!

susie_wolff : Happy Birthday Sweet Girl!

scuderiaferrari : happy birthday naya!! 🎈🎈

mercedesamgf1 : happy birthday naya! we miss you so much!

—

The thing about hosting your birthday in Monaco is that there’s always a yacht, always a DJ, and always a guest list full of people who look like they belong in a GQ spread.

Mine wasn’t over-the-top — not by Monaco standards, anyway. Rooftop terrace, ambient lights, too many photographers across the street pretending not to be watching.

I spotted Isack the second he walked in, wearing a button-down that was definitely ironed by someone else and looking very out of place in the best way possible.

He kissed my cheek when he found me. “Happy birthday, Miss Mystery.”

“Glad you came,” I said with a grin. “Feeling brave?”

“Honestly? A little nervous,” he admitted. “I’ve seen three world champions already and I’ve been here five minutes.”

“Mm. You might want to stay nervous.”

I took his hand and pulled him gently toward the center of the terrace, weaving past Red Bull engineers, a retired footballer, and a couple of Ferrari mechanics.

And then—there he was.

Dad, standing by the bar, dressed in a sleek suit and sipping on sparkling water.

“Hey,” I said, walking up to him. “Someone I want you to meet.”

Dad turned, already grinning.

“This is Isack,” I said, as casually as if I were introducing him to my barista. “My boyfriend.”

Isack froze. Completely.

“Isack,” Dad said, offering his hand with a knowing smile. “Good to see you again.”

Again.

Isack blinked. Twice. Looked between us. “Wait. Hold on.”

I tried not to laugh.

“You’re…” He looked at Dad. “You’re her…?”

“Father,” Dad said smoothly. “Did she not mention that?”

“I—no. She definitely didn’t.”

I took a sip of my drink, trying not to smirk. “Felt like it would ruin the surprise.”

Isack turned back to me, eyes wide, voice half a whisper. “You’re Lewis Hamilton’s daughter.”

“Took you long enough.”

Dad clapped him on the shoulder, a little too hard. “Welcome to the family, son.”

Isack looked like he was questioning every life choice he’d ever made. I leaned in, voice just for him.

“close your mouth, love. you’ll catch flies.” i said and pushed up his chin.

—

“Oh no,” Isack muttered under his breath. “Why are they all here.”

“Because I have amazing friends,” I said sweetly. “And they love watching you suffer.”

“Hadjar!” Lando called, arms already spreading like he was about to hug him just to whisper something evil in his ear. “So you’re the one dating the princess of Formula One, huh?”

Jack whistled low. “You’ve got some guts, man.”

Kimi, deadpan as ever, tilted his head. “Did you think we wouldn’t find out?”

“I didn’t know!” Isack said for what was probably the seventh time tonight. “She didn’t say anything!”

“He called Lewis ‘sir,’” Ollie chimed in again, grinning like this was the best day of his life. “It was so formal.”

“Wait, did you?” Lando asked, barely holding in his laughter. “Like, a ‘Hello, Mr. Hamilton, may I date your daughter’ type situation?”

“He panicked!” I added, giggling. “Tried to act like they hadn’t met before.”

“I had no idea!” Isack groaned. “You all suck.”

“I’m just saying,” Jack said, nudging Kimi. “If I found out my girlfriend’s dad was seven-time world champion Lewis Hamilton, I’d have walked straight into the Mediterranean.”

Kimi nodded, stone-faced. “We still might throw you in.”

“Please do,” Isack said, face in hands. “End it.”

Lando gave him a brotherly clap on the shoulder. “Look at it this way. You’ve already peaked. Can’t go higher than impressing Lewis Hamilton.”

Ollie leaned into me with a smirk. “You know he didn’t even realize until Lewis introduced himself back?”

I sipped my drink. “Timing is everything.”

Isack looked up at me then — red-faced, wide-eyed, but grinning. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Only a little,” I teased. “But hey — you’re handling it like a champ.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like an F1 champ or…?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Jack said dryly.

Kimi cracked the faintest of smirks. “We’ll see how you qualify next weekend, Hamilton’s boyfriend.”

—

whotfisnaya

liked by isackhadjar, lando, lewishamilton & 4,389,387 others.

whotfisnaya: long story short…i love isack and isack loves my dad (the selfie is warming my heart by the second)

—

username00 : dating your idols daughter?? wasn’t familiar with your game isack

olliebearman: neither was he

whotfisnaya : oliver be nice

lewishamilton : Welcome to the family, Isack. We love you even if you are oblivious sometimes.

liked by whotfisnaya, lando, isackhadjar and olliebearman

olliebearman : is it cheating since he will be mentored by the goat?

lando : he fr just skipped ten levels

isackhadjar: love you the most even if you embarrassed me in front of my goat

liked by whotfisnaya

—

🦋🐞💋🫶🏻🧜🏻‍♀️

[bear-yawns]

　𝗕𝗜𝗚 𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗢𝗡 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗢𝗡.　formula one · #f1

　　　whether the f1 grid prefers being the big spoon or little spoon when cuddling.

genres : fluff ... established relationships ... f1 grid x reader (max verstappen, yuki tsunoda, lando norris, oscar piastri, charles leclerc, ollie bearman, kimi antonelli, isack hadjar, carlos sainz, alex albon, zhou guanyu, franco colapinto included).　word count : 1k.　warnings : not proofread.　 note : ugh i think my brain melted by the end of this it was SO hard to think of how to write these without it being super repetitive and low-key i think it still is repetitive but know i tried my best </3　　　( masterlist )　( taglist )

𝗠𝗔𝗫 𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗡

a big spoon all the time, his arms are like your safe haven. whether in bed, on the couch, or a simple hug in the kitchen, his arms are around yours like it’s the most natural position ever. if you were really truly insistent about being the big spoon, he will attempt being the small one, but he’s not a big fan of it. you need to be in his arms, there’s simply nothing else that will satisfy his itch for physical contact quite like it.

𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗦

he usually starts out as the big spoon, but he always ends up as the little spoon after a few minutes. there’s something so comforting about being nestled in your arms, forehead and curls nuzzling against your shoulder. is always just extremely soft in your arms, but will end up denying that he likes being a little spoon. insists he’d rather have you in his arms than the other way around even when he naturally moves to the smaller position first. 

𝗜𝗦𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗛𝗔𝗗𝗝𝗔𝗥

if you asked him, he would say he’s a big spoon without skipping a beat. but in actuality he always becomes the little spoon with you, even if he doesn’t realize it. he’ll get distracted by your hand gently scratching a spot on the nape of his neck or your arms hugging him tightly. he doesn’t even really register that you’re the one spooning him after he was so adamant he was nothing but a big spoon.

𝗞𝗜𝗠𝗜 𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗜

he likes being a big spoon, but it entirely depends on the situation, and how eager you are to have your hands in his curls. he will happily let you rest your arms around his waist during late night cuddle sessions, but during the day, he’s definitely going to be the big spoon. maybe a little bit of boyfriend protectiveness comes into play as well, but your waist is like a magnet for his hands. he’s always holding you like that, and will rest his chin on your shoulder too!

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗟𝗘𝗦 𝗟𝗘𝗖𝗟𝗘𝗥𝗖

charles is usually the big spoon, because it feels more natural to him. he’d definitely the type to rest his chin on your shoulder as he’s hugging you or trace little circles on your hip. whatever position you’re cuddling in, he needs to have you as close as possible to him. he loves the smell of your perfume and shampoo and it keeps him cuddled as close as possible, face buried in the joint of your neck and shoulder.

𝗬𝗨𝗞𝗜 𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗗𝗔

now yuki hates thinking of himself as the little spoon. he already gets people pointing out how small he is all the time, and admitting that he likes being cuddled up in your arms instead of taking the more “manly” position feels wrong. but he can’t deny it when he’s with you. he loves having his head rested on your chest or shoulder, legs intertwined too if possible. and maybe you also hug your arms around his waist before you go to sleep, but does it really count as a little spoon? (yes, yes it does).

𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗫 𝗔𝗟𝗕𝗢𝗡

alex is tall, making being the big spoon just make more sense. anytime he’s trying to be the little spoon, it just ends up a little awkward and only half spooning. so he’s glad that you’re both content to have him fulfil the role most nights. you fit so perfectly in his arms too! he almost doesn’t want to let you go in the morning when he wakes up with you still snuggled closely to his chest <3

𝗭𝗛𝗢𝗨 𝗚𝗨𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗨

guanyu is good for whatever you want. he doesn’t mind either way! it’s comfortable to be the big spoon or little spoon depending on the situation. usually when you’re falling asleep he will be the big spoon, but regular cuddling could go either way. you like to hug his waist and rest your head against his back, which ends up in him being the little spoon a lot of the time. 

𝗙𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗢 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗢

you can barely count it as spooning, since franco’s favourite way to cuddle is him entirely on top of you, or you entirely on top of him. he likes the weight of your body, and tracing little patterns on the back of your shirt while you cuddle. on the flip side, he appreciates resting his cheek on your chest or having your arms around his waist. he thinks the concept of spooning is a little redundant though. as long as you’re both cuddling, that’s all that matters. he never gives it much thought when he’s pulling you into his arms.

𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗟𝗢𝗦 𝗦𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗭

big spoon. just not a chance he’s ending up the little spoon on purpose. maybe a couple of times he’s woken up as the little spoon after tossing and turning in the night, but he’s 100% gonna fall asleep being the big spoon for you :( and he loves holding you in his arms too! his hands are meant to be around your waist and his shoulders perfectly blanket your figure— truly he has to be the big spoon. there’s just no other way when you fit so perfectly in his arms. 

𝗢𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗥 𝗣𝗜𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗜

big spoon usually, but he doesn’t have much of a preference. he’ll just go along with whatever you want, whether that’s to be in his arms or have him in your arms, he never questions it. he does like it when your hair is close enough to his face that he can smell your shampoo, though. he thinks it smells amazing and it definitely has him pulling you closer and hugging you tighter. 

𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗠𝗔𝗡

big spoon no questions. he’s got long limbs and their purpose is to wrap around your body. he honestly doesn’t know what to do with himself when you’re trying to be the big spoon. you’ve definitely tried before and both come to the conclusion that you being the little spoon is much better. he just feels a lot more comfortable holding you. plus he likes to kiss your forehead and nose and the position gives him easy access!

taglist: @lxvemaze,, @liawleclerc,, @caffeineboi,, @divierses

[littlegrapejuice]

Post Uploaded! | IH6

Pairing: Isack Hadjar x Reader

Summary: Being VCARB's social media admin is definitely not for the weak, especially when you got a chaotic duo to babysit. But maybe it isn't so bad when it means that you can land a cute driver as your boyfriend.

Author's Note: whoever's the actual vcarb admin, ilysm🫶🏻 istg i look forward to watch whatever they post everyday, it's just fucking hilarious + the dynamic btwn isack and liam is🔛🔝 also, huge thank you to my bestie @sk8termikey who beta read this, ily babe<3

F1 MASTERLIST🏎

“Have you seen this trend?” was probably the question that Isack asked you the most. And whether you replied positively or negatively, it was always followed by “can we do that?”.

As part of Racing Bulls’ social media team, it was supposed to be your job to be creative and find ideas for the team’s socials. However, due to Isack being even more chronically online than you, he was always suggesting things before you even had time to edit and post the previous videos you had filmed.

It was certainly a bit calmer now that Liam had replaced Yuki at Racing Bulls – Yuki was as chaotic as Isack, and them being together meant that you were never able to catch a break during race weekends. Still, Liam and Isack made up for a crazy duo.

But even if you let out the biggest sigh known to mankind whenever Isack was walking up to you, far from innocent grin on his face, you were glad that you didn’t have to force your drivers to film content. Social media admins from the other teams often expressed their jealousy, gushing about how lucky you were that you didn’t have to chase your drivers in the paddock just for a ten seconds long video.

You weren’t paid enough for that, though. You loved your drivers, you really did. But God, they were way too energetic for you. You had to listen to them talk about Cars at least twice a day – you loved the film, but not enough to hear about it every time you were with them; and they often argued about who you’d prefer based on whose idea you’d film first – definitely not Isack. But the most draining thing was for sure when they would both follow you everywhere around the paddock as soon as they had a video idea. Hell, you even had to get lunch with them – more like them getting lunch with you actually – while they showed you examples and made you listen to funny audios.

But you loved them, most of the time.

Except right now.

Right now, all you wanted was to relax. Well, relax as much as you could while working. You had your headphones on with some of your favourite songs playing and were looking at some pictures from the latest race as you had to choose which ones to post after having also edited several videos. You were in your little bubble, until Isack sat down in front of you. You tried your best to ignore him for the time being, but you could see from the corner of your eye that he was expecting you to interact with him.

Not removing your headphones, you decided to acknowledge him:

“Please, just give me ten minutes. I’m almost done with this, and then I’m all yours. Been on it for the past hour; I’m dehydrated and I have a headache, but I’ll be free for whatever silly trend you got. Just ten minutes, thanks Isack.”

It could’ve been considered rude from you to not even glance at him, but he understood. Not that you had seen or heard anything, but Isack nodded and told you that he would be back soon. You were focused on your task, and desperately needed to finish it before the next event of the weekend was to happen. You weren’t usually this dramatic, but you were more exhausted than usual because of the triple header, and were therefore more stressed to not fulfill your job within the deadlines.

After ten long minutes that felt like an hour, you were finally done with your editing. Pictures and videos had been posted; they featured both drivers, and all had a nice caption. You sighed as you leaned back on your chair, removing your headphones before putting them around your neck. You then noticed that Isack wasn’t here anymore, and wondered if you had been too mean to him.

Still, you took advantage of the calm and silence that echoed in the room. Everyone else was either downstairs or outside, and you found peace in the quiet around you as you closed your eyes.

Breathing in, and out. In, and out.

You were a bit less tense than earlier, and kept enjoying the silence until you heard someone approach as they seemingly put something on the table. Opening your eyes, you saw that Isack was sitting down once again in front of you.

“You’re back, good. Just five more minutes of peace, and we can film whatever you want.”

“It’s okay,” Isack replied. “This is for you, by the way.” He pointed to the glass on the table.

“Me?” You asked, straightening up and looking at him.

“Yeah, you said that you were dehydrated and had a headache. So I brought you a drink, and some painkillers.”

That’s when you noticed the blister pack next to the glass, and you couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face. Immediately popping a pill into your mouth, you didn’t hesitate gulping down half of the drink right after. You let out a satisfied sigh, which made Isack chuckle.

“Better?” He wondered.

“Yeah, that will definitely help. Sorry about earlier,” you apologised. “Guess I got a bit grumpy, but I’m free for you if you wanna tell me about whatever trend you found.”

Isack dismissed your apology and told you it was fine, before he quickly got his phone out to open TikTok. His enthusiasm was contagious. Soon enough, you were back to your usual self and laughing at the video that Isack was showing you as you both discussed what your take would be for the team’s social media.

…..

You didn’t know what to expect when you accepted that Isack and Liam take control of the team’s socials for a day. You had only agreed to it after Isack kept reminding you how well the video of him pretending to be VCARB’s admin had done, and you had to admit that it had indeed been a popular video.

So here you were, shadowing the drivers for a while until you had to take a lunch break. For once, it was you who offered them to join you. But they politely refused your invitation, claiming that they wanted to film a couple more videos. So you let them do their thing, thinking that it was fine – especially when they kept saying that you would actually be able to rest while eating.

It wasn’t fine.

Well, it was at first.

Before going back to wherever Isack and Liam were in the paddock, you decided to check if they had posted anything since this morning. There were two new videos, crossposted on TikTok and Instagram: one was of them simply notifying the fans that they were taking over VCARB’s socials for the day – simple and efficient, you thought. The other video was already a bit chaotic compared to the first one: the two drivers had tried to sneak into every garage and pretend they were from that team before someone noticed that they were, in fact, absolutely not part of it.

You had to admit, they could come after your job as the videos already had a fair amount of likes and comments. People were clearly enjoying today’s content, and you were glad that they could indeed be trusted.

But of course, something had to go wrong.

After a quick text to your drivers, you found yourself in Isack’s driver room where they had been brainstorming more video ideas. When you opened the door, you saw that Liam was apparently filming something and you were about to apologise for interrupting when Isack noticed your presence.

“Hey!” The French said with excitement. His smile was bright, like a warm ray of sunshine. “Have you seen our videos? Our content is almost better than yours!”

“I did watch them both, yeah.” You nodded, before noticing that Liam had stopped recording and was now looking at his phone with a smirk on his face. “Did I interrupt anything?”

“No, you’re fine. In fact, you helped with something.” Liam was being kind of cryptic, as he put his phone back in his pocket.

“I did?” You wondered while tilting your head in confusion. You had simply entered a room, so you were a bit lost as to how you could have provided anything to his content. “What’s your video about?”

“You’ll know when I post it later”, Liam simply replied.

“Okay…” You were quite suspicious, but decided to trust him. “Can I help with anything else?” You asked them.

“Personally, I’m good. But I wouldn’t mind if you kept us company today,” Isack admitted. “Unless you have other things to do, of course.”

“Isack, you guys are literally doing my job right now. So no, I actually don’t have anything else to do.”

“That’s great, then. You can stay with us for the rest of the day”, Liam concluded.

And so until media day was over, you had followed your drivers around the paddock. They kept having crazy ideas after crazy ideas, and you couldn't help but laugh every time they had to do multiple takes due to one of them not being able to stay in character. This was probably one of the best work days you’ve ever had, and you almost wished that they would do this more often.

Keyword: almost.

Because of course, there had to be that eventual issue mentioned earlier.

Liam had been filming Isack doing whatever he was doing until the French driver tripped on his own feet and ended up face first in a wall. The sudden noise alarmed you, and you immediately rushed to Isack’s side as he was holding his head.

“Are you okay?” You asked, worry evident in your voice.

“I think I’m dying”, Isack dramatically replied.

You chuckled at what was definitely him overreacting. You forced Isack to sit down before you crouched down to his level, making him look up at you.

“Remove your hand, please.” Isack did as he was told, and you carefully inspected his head. “Where does it actually hurt?”

“Like– my forehead,” he said.

You nodded in understanding, and cupped his face to make him stay still – it was probably not even necessary as you being so close to him was almost making him stop breathing, and he didn’t dare make a move. You gently pushed his hair back from his forehead, looking for any kind of bruise as you stroked his skin to feel if any lump had appeared. You were so focused on your task, you didn’t even notice how flustered Isack was becoming with every second passing.

Liam, however, had very much noticed. And unbeknownst to you or Isack, he was absolutely enjoying the scene, still recording for God knows what reason. This was good content for the video idea he’d had since this morning, which he had slowly but surely been filming for throughout the day.

After a couple minutes, you finally released Isack’s face – he couldn’t decide whether it was a good thing or not, given that it had been messing with his heart a lot – and he was already missing the warmth of your hand on his cheek.

“All good”, you eventually concluded. “Might have a slight bump forming, but you’ll survive. You’re a strong guy, right Isack?”

“Y–yeah, of course. Thanks”, he could only reply due to how nervous you were making him.

“Pathetic…” Liam mumbled under his breath, unheard from you nor Isack.

Glad that Isack was fine, you straightened back up with a smile before offering him your hand. He hesitantly took it, and you then pulled him up so he could stand. Not expecting to end up so close to you once again, Isack quickly took a step back with the blush intensifying on his cheeks.

Liam was definitely having a field day, while you were completely oblivious to the effect you were having on the French driver.

“I wish I could trust you to keep playing social media alone, but I’m gonna have to review your next ideas before you start filming them and I’m being put on the spot.”

The drivers both nodded, understanding that you were simply worried about them – and about your job too. So for the rest of the day, you made a compromise with them: you would still give them creative liberty to film – almost – whatever they wanted, but you had the right to veto anything that could seem to eventually end up badly for one of them.

…..

A few hours later, media day was finally over. Isack and Liam had filmed three other videos, while you supervised them like a babysitter from afar. Although they had done most of the job, you still helped them edit their videos and confirmed to them that yes, their caption ideas were funny.

“Well, this was an interesting day for sure. But I don’t think we’ll do that again for a while,” you told the drivers when all their videos were posted.

“Sorry to have wasted your time”, Isack apologised.

“It wasn’t wasted,” you reassured him. “I just didn’t rest as much as you had promised me. But it was fun, I guess.”

“It was very fun, yes. Glad I was able to know more”, Liam said.

“About my job?” You wondered.

“Amongst other things”, Liam vaguely replied.

Although a bit confused at his words, you didn’t think much of it as you knew that Liam had enjoyed the day as well. He had harboured a satisfied grin for most of the afternoon, and you were glad to see it every time you would look at him. You wouldn’t be glad in the near future, but this was another story.

After checking that the team’s social media was doing fine, you announced to Isack and Liam that they were free to leave the track and go back to their hotel. You were actually all staying in the same one, which led to Isack suggesting that you all go back together before he also asked you if you wanted to join him – and Liam – for dinner. You hesitated a bit as it wasn’t really something you often did unless there were other VCARB employees going out with you, but Isack’s excited smile made it impossible to refuse.

…..

So now you were back in your hotel room, about to go downstairs after having changed from your team kit. You were strangely nervous, already picturing the worst that could happen. It wasn’t everyday that you were hanging out with your drivers off track – only the three of you – so you really hoped that the evening would go smoothly.

But once again, you had spoken too soon.

Courtesy of Liam who had apparently come down with a “last-minute stomachache”, you were now looking at your menu with only Isack sitting at the table with you. He had surprisingly dressed up a bit, and you wondered if the supposed stomachache had been planned between the two of them. But with the way that Isack was avoiding your gaze, his cheeks slightly flushed, you truly didn’t know what to think of the situation.

It looked just like a date.

You. And Isack. On a date.

And that’s not even the worst that would happen. The worst had happened right after you and Isack had ordered. The tension had lightened a bit after a waiter had come to your table, bursting the little bubble of nervousness that had surrounded you two. You were now patiently waiting for your food as you sipped your drink, when you heard your phone going off.

You were about to apologise to Isack for not muting it, when you saw what the notification was:

Post uploaded!

Furrowing your brows, it was safe to say that you were confused; because the account that was showing wasn’t your personal one. No, it was the team’s account. And that’s when you started panicking.

“Is everything alright?” Isack asked you, easily noticing your stress.

“Yeah, hmm… it’s just Instagram being weird,” you said. “I don’t know what happened.”

Just to make sure you hadn’t posted anything weird, like a wrongly scheduled video, you opened the application. Nothing had prepared you for the video that immediately played before your eyes. The editing was basic, but the caption was far from being a usual one: 30s compilation of isack having a crush on admin.

You watched the entire video with widened eyes, each clip showing a different version of Isack throughout the day. Your face wasn’t shown, but you recognised the moment from earlier in the afternoon when you were checking on Isack after he had bumped into a wall. He was looking up at you with flushed cheeks, his eyes filled with something you didn’t dare think about.

When the video finished, it automatically replayed and you could only rewatch those clips of Isack’s eyes glancing at you – his face lightening up when you had entered his driver’s room, his smile brightening as he talked about you.

You didn’t know what to think of it. And for a couple minutes, you had forgotten that Isack was actually sitting at the table across from you.

“Are you okay?” He worryingly asked. “Your face has gone a bit red.”

Of course your face had gone red! It wasn’t everyday that you had to see your driver look at you as if you were the prettiest girl in the world – Isack wouldn’t deny that, as if you were the only thing that made him wake up in the morning, the only person he was impatiently waiting to see at every race.

“I’m fine…” That was a lie. “I just think that a certain someone posted a video on the team’s account without consulting me first.”

“Liam?” Isack guessed. He unlocked his phone to go see it himself, and was met with his own face as he clicked on the video. “Oh mon Dieu, putain…”

Isack would definitely kill Liam for that. Setting him up on a date with you was one thing, but a public video that displayed his crush on you for the entire world to see? Isack wanted to die of embarrassment. His face had gone even redder than yours, and he didn’t dare look up from his phone. He was afraid to see your expression, afraid that you’d be mad about the situation.

But you weren’t.

After a few minutes of silence between you and him, you caught his attention.

“Isack”, you called out his name which made him nervously look at you.

“Wait! Before you say anything”, he interrupted. “I’m so sorry for this, I didn’t know Liam had planned that. And I’m also sorry for the dinner, he told me at the last minute that he wasn’t coming. I swear it wasn’t on purpose! And–”

“Isack, breathe!” You exclaimed as you saw him almost hyperventilating. You took his hands in yours, which made him go still for a second. “Calm down, it’s fine.” He raised an eyebrow at you, and you chuckled. “Okay, it could’ve been better. But it’s not the end of the world,” you tried to reassure him.

“Kinda feels like it is for me”, he argued. “Liam just outed my feelings on the team’s socials, out of all places.”

“I’ll admit that was a shit move.” You were definitely giving Liam a lecture tomorrow morning, and removing his access to the VCARB account until the end of time. “I’m actually going to take this down while I think about it,” you said as you quickly deleted the video before focusing back on Isack.

“I’m sorry, again.”

“If anyone should apologise, it’s Liam. You have nothing to be sorry about, unless it’s to tell me the video wasn’t telling the truth.”

“It is…” Isack tried to avoid your gaze once again. “And now it probably ruined our friendship, as well as our professional relationship.”

“It hasn’t, though.”

“Really?” He was confused, but it was kind of getting his hopes up. “You’re not weirded out by me liking you?”

“Nope”, you replied with a grin. “If anything, the video was actually cute.”

“Cute?” Isack repeated.

“Yes”, you confirmed with a nod. “You’re cute, Isack. Sorry I never noticed this until now. Well, I would be blond not to have actually noticed. But I never truly did, I guess”

“You’re cute too.”

“Well, I hope so given how you look at me.”

“You’re never letting me live this down, are you?”

“Got it!” You chuckled and leaned back in your chair. “But there’s something we can do now.”

“What?”

“Liam expected something out of this, right?” When Isack nodded, you continued. “Let’s make it happen.”

“And it is…?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.” You shrugged, a challenging expression making its way on your face. “Maybe you asking me on a real date, so tonight isn’t wasted. Or maybe it’s you being the one to confess instead of Liam doing it for you.”

“I didn't really ask for that to happen in the first place”, he reminded you. “But if you’re actually serious, then I’d love for tonight to be a real date. Let me make it better than how it started.”

“You’re on the right path, don’t worry.” From the corner of your eye, you could see your food finally arriving. “Here’s to our first date!” You said as you raised your glass towards Isack before taking a sip.

“Here’s to our first date”, he repeated with a nervous smile.

And thankfully, it wouldn’t be the last.

…..

The next day, you lectured Liam for at least ten minutes. His head hung low and he apologised countless times to you. You also forced him to apologise to Isack, as the French driver had been the most affected by Liam’s actions. Luckily for him, he was saved by his engineer calling him for FP1 as it would be starting soon and so you had no choice but to let him go.

“It did work, though. Right?” Liam asked with a smirk right as he stood in the doorway.

“Get out Liam”, you only replied. “You’re on thin ice right now, and your social media privileges have been revoked for an undetermined period of time.”

“I know. But being so defensive means that it worked!” He quickly concluded before leaving you and Isack alone.

“He’s not wrong…” Isack smiled at you.

“Doesn’t mean I wanted to admit it to him”, you argued. “But yes, it did help speed up things between us.”

“You know, I would’ve still confessed even without Liam. Maybe not before months,” he admitted, “but I was planning on us becoming closer friends before that.”

“And what would’ve made you confess?” You were now definitely curious about it.

“I wish I could’ve gotten a podium first,” he explained. “I only have points as an achievement right now.”

“That’s enough for me, don’t worry.” You quickly looked at the time, realising how late it was getting. “You better go join Liam by the way, I don’t want to be fired for keeping you away from your job.”

“I would vouch for you, don’t worry. You’re the best admin we could have”, Isack claimed.

“You’re just saying that because I make you look good on our socials.”

“But you think I look good off socials too, right?”

“Get out, Isack.” Your tone was teasing, and your cheeks a bit flushed. “Go drive your little car and let me do my job in peace.”

“Okay, okay!” He raised his hands in defence, before he left his room.

Now that you were alone, your only reaction was to put your head in your hands. You could only giggle as you remembered what had happened from yesterday to just a few seconds ago.

You were just a girl after all.

But right now, you were definitely a happier girl than ever.

…..

You didn’t think that you would see Liam and Isack still in the garage by the time you finally left Isack’s room – it had taken you a dozen minutes alone before you felt comfortable to go out, but they were talking with some engineers while half of the drivers were already on track for FP1.

Taking advantage of the moment, you called out their names and they walked to where you were in between their garages.

“Okay guys, quick picture time if you don’t mind.”

“Both of us or separately?” Liam asked.

“Let’s do three pictures: two individuals and one of you together”, you decided. “I’ll see what I eventually post later.”

The drivers nodded and waited for your directions.

“Do we do anything special or…?” Isack wondered.

“Just stand there and look pretty,” you said without thinking. “Won’t be too hard for you.”

While Isack blushed at your words, Liam’s face was making an exaggerated and disgusted expression.

“I know it’s thanks to me that y’all are finally together, but please refrain from flirting in front of me.”

“That wasn’t flirting!” You tried to argue. “And we’re not even together…”

“Yet,” Isack pointed out.

“You’re not helping,” you told Isack with what you hoped was a stern glare. You sighed and tried to remain professional. “Just smile and give me some thumbs up, please.”

Taking a few pictures of them together first, you then let them go to their respective side of the garage so that they could gear up and get in their car. You took that as an opportunity to take individual pictures of them, starting with Liam.

“You know,” he caught your attention, “I’m actually happy for you two. And I’m sorry again for making it chaotic, but I’m glad y’all can make it work.”

“Thanks, Liam.” Your smile was genuine, and you knew Liam had only wanted to help. “Next time, let’s have private conversations instead of using the public internet.”

“Copy.”

You both exchanged one last smile, before you walked to Isack’s garage as he was about to put on his helmet.

“Wish me luck?” He asked, holding his helmet next to his face while he smiled for a picture.

“It’s FP1, Isack. I’m sure you can manage without me blessing your car.”

“But what if I crash and it’s because you haven’t wished me luck?” Isack was being dramatic, his voice teasing.

“Please don’t joke about that,” a mechanic said. “And definitely don’t crash on purpose to get your girlfriend’s attention.”

“Not his girlfriend”, you mumbled with a faint blush on your cheeks.

“Yet”, Isack said in reference to earlier.

“Get in the car, Isack.” You sighed as you took one last picture before he secured his helmet. You waited for him to get in the car before you spoke again. “Good luck.”

Isack’s head turned so quickly towards where you were, it almost seemed like his neck could’ve snapped. Only his eyes were showing, but you could see in the way Isack looked at you that he was grinning. Your expression was soft, which made Isack almost want to get out of the car and kiss the smile that had appeared on your face.

…..

And he would eventually do so, after getting his first F1 podium. Not wasting any time as soon as he would reach parc fermé, Isack would get out of his car so quickly that you would barely have time to realise that he was in front of you. He would hug you tightly, while everyone cheered around you. He would then struggle to remove his helmet, having only one goal.

And when he would finally succeed, Isack would drop his helmet to the ground without a care and he would get as close to you as the barrier between the two of you let him do so. And this time, his arms wouldn’t be around you; because his hands would reach for your face, cupping your cheeks and pulling you close to him as his lips kissed yours.

Isack wouldn’t give a damn about the podium, or the trophy. Because you were his prize.

In this moment, you would forget about the video of Isack that you were filming. You wouldn’t be VCARB’s social media admin anymore, you would simply be Isack Hadjar’s girlfriend. And for once, you wouldn’t mind being the one in front of the camera.

..........

Tagging the lovely people who expressed a wish to read this, thanks to y'all for motivating me to finish it: @fellowwomenlover @mrssaturday @boke---hinata---boke

HOPE Y'ALL ENJOYED🫶🏻🫶🏻

Kudos again to my bestie who's fr my soulmate bc she literally complimented on the exact thing i had been unsure of (without even knowing i had struggled w that)

Really manifesting an isack podium soon bc pookie is doing so well recently and ik he's on the right path to perform even better🕯🕯

I also wanna say that we've reached 400 followers and it feels absolutely insane, so tysm for supporting me and my silly lil fics🫂

See you soon, take care of yourselves, i love y'all xx

[jungwnies]

bf moments | isack hadjar

୨ৎ : featuring : boyfriend!isack x reader ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : compilation of fluffy boyfriend isack moments

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

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : miami race weekend y'all...the ferrari livery was uhm.. yeah but racing bulls is so cute >.<

boyfriend!isack who playfully tries to out-sass you but forgets who he’s talking to when you raise an eyebrow like, “you sure about that?”

boyfriend!isack who makes dumb little voice memos instead of texting because he loves knowing you’ll laugh at his accent or his weird commentary on life.

boyfriend!isack who gets genuinely offended when your phone autocorrects his name. “what do you mean HADJAR isn’t a real word. i’m a real boy.”

boyfriend!isack who calls you “mon ange” when he’s feeling clingy, but also “brat” when you tease him too well and he can’t think of a comeback.

boyfriend!isack who pretends not to care about matching outfits but 100% changes into a hoodie that matches your vibe the second you’re not looking.

boyfriend!isack who gives you his hat when your hair’s in your face — then immediately takes a thousand pictures of you wearing it.

boyfriend!isack who is the most annoying passenger princess, fiddling with your playlist, turning the AC on and off, and dramatically narrating your every turn like you’re in a rally car.

boyfriend!isack who acts so smug in public but clings to your hoodie sleeves when you're alone. “no i'm not needy. i’m cold. you just happen to be warm and soft. shut up.”

boyfriend!isack who makes you laugh mid-fight on purpose because he cannot stand when you’re mad at him, even if he kinda deserves it.

boyfriend!isack who literally stops mid-moment, forehead pressed against yours, just to mumble “you know i’m obsessed with you, right?” like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

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

[no-144444]

always does- i.hadjar

꩜summary: as isack's best friend, you're a little oblivious until you're not

꩜pairing: isack hadjar x fem! reader

You never understood why Isack kept you so close-by (in a metaphorical sense, of course). You were his best friend, yeah. You didn’t wander away from him, even when he moved. You just… worked through the distance and the time differences, and you were as strong as before. You didn’t pull away too much when he had a girlfriend and you didn’t expect him to pull away too much when you got a boyfriend. When you guys were together, you were there to be together in whatever you were doing. It didn’t matter if it was a simple walk, or a day out at a theme park, time together was few and far between, so you had to make it count. Your other friends stepped back for the day, Isack stood or sat by your side, his hand brushing yours until he eventually took it. And you’d stay like that. Sleep in the same bed. Make morning coffee together. Brush your teeth together. Domestic shit, but it didn’t matter. Isack and you weren’t like that, you never would be. 

Obviously, you knew he was hot. Anyone with eyes and a brain saw the fact that he was conventionally attractive. But you never had that switch in your mind that your other friends had with their guy friends. They spoke about it like some day they just started seeing them differently. Like it was quick. Like it was a snap of fingers, and suddenly you're in love with him. It wasn’t the same for you. Isack was just… Isack. Your Isack. The Isack who bought you ice cream and held your hand walking down the streets of Venice, and that same Isack who would push you into the bushes in his back garden when you raced each other. He hadn’t changed much, just got taller, his voice got deeper, and he was an F1 driver. You hadn’t changed much either, ass and tits, hair longer than when you were five, and you finally didn’t work on the other side of the world, you were in Paris and he was in Monaco. 

“Come to Monaco,” he begged over the phone. “I’m so bored on my own and it’s so weird here.”

“I literally told you so, Isack,” you chuckled. “And anyway, I’ve a date this weekend, so I’m busy.”

He stopped. “A date? Like with a guy?” he asked. “Why do you have a date?”

You scoffed. “Wow, thanks. And it’s just this guy who asked for my number at work. He’s sweet.” 

“Seriously?” he scoffed. You didn’t notice the way his chest tightened and his jaw clenched. You didn’t see the way his breath hitched. “Just reschedule, please. I want you here.”

A younger you would’ve given in with the way he pouted, but you had a date. A date you wanted to attend. “No can-do pretty boy,” you shook your head, and he nearly passed out from the pet name. You didn’t see it, but caught a glimpse of the time. “Oh shit, I better go. Work,” you sighed, getting up. You didn’t wait for an answer. “Love you,” you smiled into your phone camera and hung up, knowing he'd say it back. 

“You’re so fucked for her, aren’t you?” Liam chuckled, sitting beside Isack. It pulled him out of the small world he created on the phone with you. When he saw your apartment, he just thought of the nights he spent there, the smell of the vanilla candles, the warm lights, the wool blankets, you. Isack groaned, putting his phone back into his pocket and looking at his hands. He didn’t like to talk about it. He didn’t really know what to say about it. “Talk,” Liam shrugged. “What’s going on?” “Nothing,” he shrugged. “That’s the problem.” 

“She doesn’t like you back?” he asked, cracking open a can of redbull and handing it to him, then opening one for himself. 

He sighed. “She doesn’t. She doesn’t notice me. I’m just her best friend.” 

“Have you talked to her about it?” Liam asked. 

“How am I supposed to admit something like that?” he questioned. “What if she hates me and doesn’t ever want to talk to me again? What if I lose her completely?”

It was his worst fear. More scary than crashing the car, than losing his seat, than anything. He couldn’t lose you. He refused. 

“I think you need to evaluate what you want and whether or not you can keep going like this,” Liam offered. “And I’m happy to listen more, if you need it.” 

Since when was Liam so philosophical? He listened to Zach Bryan for god’s sake. He got up, tapped Isack on the shoulder, and left him to ruminate. 

He remembered the exact moment he’d fallen for you. You were 15. You had come to visit him at Spa for one of his F4 races, and he’d won. He ran out of the car. You were waiting at the barrier. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. You stood there, looking so proud, so caring, so you. He couldn’t get enough. He’d race the hell out of any car anyone handed him if it meant he saw that look on your face. And you’d hugged him. You’d kissed his cheek. You stayed up all night celebrating and fell asleep beside him. You didn’t question the way he was looking at you, because maybe he’d always looked at you like that. Maybe it was just him realising then.

But you didn’t feel the same, and that was fine. He didn’t care. Well, he cared a lot, but he wasn’t going to make it your problem. 

Quali was long and which was good and bad. Good, because it meant he was starting 4th in Monaco, which was incredible. Bad, because it meant he didn’t have his phone on him to track your location and watch your date play out in real time. Which is a totally normal thing to do, right?

He jumped out of the car, searching for Liam, or Ollie, or someone to talk to about how shitty the tires would be the next day, but he turned his head to the left and caught a glimpse of a face he knew all too well. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” he practically squealed. Ollie would have laughed, but he didn’t care. He wrapped his arm around your waist, lifting you up and against him. “Holy shit,” he breathed into your hair. Like he didn’t believe you were real. Like he couldn’t trust his senses. 

And it was like your eyes opened. 

You liked sleeping in the same bed as Isack. You like brushing your teeth beside him. You like the way he treats you. You liked the way he had kissed you on your 18th birthday when you were both wine drunk in Paris, walking along the river. 

You froze for a moment. You didn’t let him go. He didn’t seem to care, though he untucked his head from your neck and stared at you, confused. “Are you alright?” he asked, his face changing to panic. “Y/n.”

“You’re incredible!” you shook yourself back into the moment, as if you hadn’t just had the most insane realisation of your life. “4th in fucking Monaco!” 

He chuckled, his panic easing. “I know right,” he smirked. “I might just have to be your favourite driver now.”

“Of course you are,” you rolled your eyes. “Always have been,” he didn’t recognise the way you were looking at him, but he welcomed it all the same. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

“You’re quiet,” he whispered, nudging your arm with his own. The paddock was loud and full of his name, but he still noticed you. Well, it would be hard no to, for him. “What’s up?”

You looked down, seeing where your foot collided with his in a constant, soft game of footsies. “Nothing, the sky,” you listed, stifling a giggle. He rolled his eyes and looked up, sighing. It gave you time to look at him. Notice the way his neck had gotten bigger, see the progress he’d made with his training, observe his bulging biceps and arms. Holy shit you had it bad for him, maybe all your mates were right? No, it couldn’t be. Because it wasn’t fast. You’d slowly fallen for him, over a matter of years. Slowly, you’d gotten used to the small things he does for you, you appreciated the hugs and cheek kisses, the protective arm around your shoulder every now and then, that stupid laugh you’d fallen so hard for. It wasn’t this quick, free-fall. It was slow, like a leaf falling down in the autumn wind. It was different. It was Isack. “I don’t know. This weekend just feels… different. Maybe you’ll get on that podium.” 

He chuckled, turning to face you. “I think something’s gone to your head,” he teased. “You sure it’s redbull in that can?”

You scoffed, playfully pushing him. “Never say never. Some things change, even when we don’t expect them too.” 

He stared at you, seeing that look in your eye again. “We’re alright?” he questioned. 

You nodded. “Always.” 

And once again, you walked away, leaving Isack all alone with his feelings. Liam always walked by at the right time, it was disturbing. “She’s in love with you, mate.” 

Isack jumped, not hearing his teammate join him on the bench (he was too busy looking at you longingly). “What the fuck-?!”

“She has it bad for you mate, I know these things,” he nodded. “You should ask her out, she’ll say yes.” 

“Do you remember any of our conversation from the other day?” He stared at him in disbelief as Liam shrugged. “And, I didn’t even think she was coming this weekend so what has changed between then and now, huh?” he questioned, his accent coming out the more he spoke. 

Liam cleared his throat. “Exactly mate, you’re welcome,” he smiled. “Nothing like an unrequited love story in Monaco, anything can happen here.”

“You brought her here?” Isack’s jaw dropped. “For what?!”

“For you, you fucking loser,” Liam chuckled. “Talk to her! Ask her out! Take control of your destiny!” the more he spoke the less Isack knew what he was saying. He stared at him dumbstruck as he walked off, winking at him. 

What a strange weekend. 

Every bone in his body ached to fall into bed, but he just couldn’t sleep. He’d tried everything. Meditation. Breathing exercises. Tea. that navy sleep technique. Visualisations. And now, walking the dark streets of Monaco. The barriers were up. The fanstands were empty, but by tomorrow morning they’d be full. And he’d be in a car on the second row. Part of him couldn’t believe it. Part of him didn’t want to. He had trouble sometimes with taking pride in his work, maybe because in his mind it was an obligation more than an ambition. He didn’t think he’d be truly happy with his career until he lifted that Championship trophy. It didn’t matter how many races he won, how many people called him the goat, or what people said about him. If he didn’t have that trophy it wasn’t worth it. His life’s work wasn’t worth it. And that scared the shit out of him. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” you spoke and he turned his head in disbelief. “Missed me too much already?” 

You had gone to bed earlier than him, and he didn’t have a chance to offer you his bed. Which was fine. But there you were, standing there in the streets he knew like the back of his hand (well, the hairpin he knew like the back of his hand), wearing your pyjamas out in the mild Monaco air. You couldn’t have looked more beautiful. He took a deep breath. “Always,” he smirked, walking up to you. “What are you doing out here so late?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Do you always have to be so protective?” you chuckled. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You started walking in step with each other, your hand wrapping around his arm as you spoke. He cleared his throat. “Worried about tomorrow?” he asked, watching your side profile as you kept your eyes ahead. 

You turned to him. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” 

There was humor in your voice but it fell flat against the tension between the two of you. He was close. Too close. So close. You could feel his breath on your cheek, and he didn’t step back. He just kept staring. Staring and staring at your face as if he hadn’t seen it a thousand and one times. Like he didn’t know the layout of it like he knew the layout of the track beside you. The streetlamps illuminated his eyes, the perfect shade of brown. God, you could’ve just gotten lost in that moment, staring at him, when saying nothing truly meant everything.

He leaned over and his lips met yours. Not like it was planned but, not like it wasn’t either. Just simple, passionate, soft, and delicate. His hand cupped your cheek like he’d bruise it if he touched you too roughly. You didn’t mind. You kissed him back, gently running your hands through his hair as you felt yourself back up against a barrier. He didn’t stop and neither did you. 

“I love you,” he breathed out against your lips, not thinking clearly. He was drunk off the taste of you, off the moment. “I’ve loved you for a long time.” 

You didn’t answer right away, slightly shocked at the confession. People had mentioned it, pointed it out, or blatantly told you that he was in love with you. You didn’t take it to heart. It was hard not to when his hands were on your face as he kissed you against a barrier in Monaco. Your hands fisted his t-shirt, pulling him closer. “I love you too,” your voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard it. He always did. 

He pulled back with that soft smile on his face, fixing your pyjamas slightly. He looked at you with all the care in the world, but then again, he always did. 

navigation for my blog :)

redbull & vcarb masterlist

[whoisraii]

Feeling my way back to you...(IH6)

F1 MASTERLIST

starring: isack hadjar x bestsellingpoet!reader.

social media au.

includes: fluff, romance, friends to lovers, kind of slow burn {im a slowburn maniac ik 😇}, social media chaos ig? yep thats it.

note: This is like my first social media au and first time writing for Isack so like please forgive me if i mess this up slightly 😭. As alwways imma try to deliver the best but just a warning this is my first one 😭 also face claim for olivia rodrigo and louis partridge also a lill messed up dates because i forgot to read them propperly

Music: Lovers - Anna of the North (slowed)

Liked by isackhadjar,user731,and others yourusername Sundays are for poetry, coffee, and race days 🏁 imola didn’t disappoint..

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user1 the multitasking is unmatched user2 guys isack hadjar liked this like IMMEDIATELY user3 wait she watches f1 😭 ⤷ user4 oh you must be new here 🙃 ⤷ yourusername keeps me mentally sane for the entire week 😇 user5 can't wait for the new poetry book to drop 🎀 ⤷ yourusername trying my hardest to finish it within the next few months😭isackhadjar glad you liked watching the gp ⤷ user6 help 😭 he's back at it again

Liked by isackhadjar, scuderiaferrari, and others yourusername thank you scuderiaferrari for the invite, the speed and the sea were good for the soul ❤️‍🔥

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scuderiaferrari come back anytime poet 😇 charles_leclerc glad to have you watching from the paddock today ⤷ yourusername glad I got to meet Leo finally 😭 isackhadjar monaco suits you. ⤷ user3 ISACK. AGAIN. ⤷ user2 you aren't slick 💀 user6 imagine having your favorite team invite you to your favorite driver's home race ⤷ yourusername IKR I happy cried for about half an hour before letting it sink in 😭

yourusername posted a story

yourusername Definitely didn't expect this invite...but not asking twice 🌬️✈️ #vcarb

Liked by isackhadjar,visacashapprb,and others yourusername “wasn’t on the calendar, but surprises are good for the writing process 🇪🇸🌀thank you visacashapprb for the view

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isackhadjar You are a good luck charm L/n ⤷ yourusername thankyou always hadjar 🎀 visacashapprb we are fast learners 👏 ⤷ user3 and matchmakers 😭 user8 slide 3. i am eating the walls. user19 you’re telling me she just CASUALLY showed up at vcarb looking like THAT??? user5 if yall like eachother just say it 😭. end the suffering

isackhadjar posted a story

isackhadjar the world is more peaceful when she's the one yapping

yourusername thanks for not letting me fall face first in the cafe 😞 ⤷ isackhadjar always L/n

yourusername posted a story

yourusername another one? maybeee...😌

Liked by isackhadjar,visacashapprb, and others yourusername slow morning, caffine overdosage and isackhadjar

Veiw all comments

isackhadjar you do drink a very concering amount of coffee ⤷ user4 cant be that much... can it? ⤷ isackhadjar 6 cups a day is concering ⤷ yourusername who let you speak 💀 user8 i am NOT surviving this era user19 her softlaunch game is leathal 😭

Liked byyourusername,visacashapprb, and others isackhadjar too much caffine. yourusername

Veiw all comments

yourusername hey I made it less today 😭 ⤷ isackhadjar 4 cups a day is still concering ⤷ yourusername stop 💀 user8 how long are they going to drag this 😭 user1 its pure suffering at this point.

Liked byyourusername,visacashapprb, and others isackhadjar so we’re both terrible at being subtle and somehow still managed to say nothing until a fan tweet shoved us off the edge yourusername

Veiw all comments

yourusername sounds very us ⤷ isackhadjar very us user3 finallyy stopped beating around the bush 😭😭 user9 we finally made it out the blurry-photo era y’all user4 he fell first. she fell harder. user8 if she writes a poem about their soft launch i’m suing for emotional damage

Liked by isackhadjar,visacashapprb, and others yourusername so apparently ‘just friends’ don’t stare at each other like that isackhadjar. thank you, twitter, for the intervention. 🫶

Veiw all comments

isackhadjar i was just staring in a respectful, slightly obsessed way. that’s legal right? ⤷ yourusername you’re lucky you’re cute. and that you texted first. ⤷ isackhadjar justice for me typing and deleting that text 47 times btw. user9 THEY CONFIRMED??? OH WE’RE WINNING TODAY 🫠🫶 user4 his whole face changes when he looks at her i’m gonna cry on the floor brb user12 this isn’t a soft launch this is a swan dive into endgameuser83 is this why her last poem ended with “maybe the softest thing about love is the way he looked at me across a quiet room” user3 not the caption dragging them both and thanking twitter 😭 you’re welcome ig? user2 can’t believe we went from grainy café pics to full on mutual pining confession arc in a MONTH

©WHOISRAII 2025 ━ do not copy, steal, post somewhere else or translate my work without my permission.

[springintosummerxx]

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀summer lovin' ˖ ﾟ୨𝑒 ﹒

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

ih6 x uni!reader

in which instagram witnesses lovedrunk! isack during summer break

warnings: mildly suggestive

word count: 451

masterlist

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

isack is laying in bed, skin still a bit raw from the sun, scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

he'd just posted a photo dump of the week, spent in the southern french islands on one of the other driver's yacht.

you come through the bathroom door of the hotel suite, humming a pop song, hair wet and carrying a bottle of lotion between your fingers.

before he could offer to help you, he noticed a comment on his post.

"omg slide 4"

obviously, he scrolls to slide four. it's a group picture, all of you an array of burnt, tanned and red. the two of you sit closer to the edge of the group, isack on a seat of the yacht, and you on the back of the seat.

your thigh is slung over his shoulder and onto his chest, and his hand is wrapped around your calf.

he studies the photo, momentarily distracted by the way you look in your bathing suit, and the glow of your skin.

you were mainly what he'd been looking at before choosing it to post, if he was completely honest.

what he hadn't noticed was how pressed up against you he was: his face, smushed into the thigh that was resting on his shoulder, the hand on your calf, the other reaching up to intertwine with yours that was on his other shoulder.

he ignored all of the "can isack fight" comments (there were many, but he didn't regret that the majority of the slides in the post were of you) and scrolled until another caught his eye.

"chill bro no ones trying to take her away from you"

"he's so clingy lmaoo"

he frowned. was he too clingy? he did show up to your apartment after your second date, half-drunk and needy, but...

"do you think i'm clingy?" he asks as you crawl into bed next to him.

"what?" you ask, snuggling up into his chest, peering at the phone he angles at you.

he repeats his question, and your expression turns pensive.

he likes that about you; you always answer his questions and think about them, even if they're kind of stupid.

"yeah," you admit, "but i think we're allowed to be."

he presses a kiss to your temple absent-mindedly, waiting for you to elaborate.

"i mean, we hardly get to see each other. it only makes sense that we make the most of the longer periods of time, right?"

that makes sense. and you cling to him just as much as he clings to you.

"love you, handsome," you tell him.

"love you too, mon chérie."

isack takes extreme care to cling extra to you for the rest of the trip.

[multicohn]

summary: being promoted to f1? awesome! being teammates with your girlfriends insanely overprotective older brother who doesn't know your dating? not awesome.

warnings: yuki being overly protective, cursing

pairing: tsunoda! reader x isack hadjar

genre: smau, established relationship, secret relationship ( at the start )

face claim: naoi rei

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

youruser

liked by isackhadjar and others

youruser: gave me roses and a nice dinner because buying the world is too expensive nowadays 🙄 men…

view all comments

danielricciardo: *gasp* little tsunoda????

| user: little tsunoda aint so little anymore

user: ARE YIU SEEIOUS

user: WHAT TBE H

user: LITTLE TSUNODA HAS A BF???

pierregasly: oh!

yukitsunoda0511: WHAT THE FUCK

| youruser: um i think that’s against the guidelines

| yukitsunoda0511: WHAT THE FUCK

user: not y/n pulling someone before her brother LMAO

user: aw baby’s growing up 💖

| yukitsunoda0511: NO SHES NOT ALLOWED TOO

yukitsunoda0511: TELL ME WHO IS IT

| youruser: no.

| yukitsunoda0511: ILL TELL MUM

| youruser: oh!

| youruser: she already knows 😜

| yukitsunoda0511: WHAT

user: men these days are too cheap 😒 like wdym you can’t give me world????

| youruser: i knew someone would understand

user: yuki is going through it lol 😭

isackhadjar: apple juice?

| youruser: 👀

| isackhadjar: 😅

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

youruser

liked by isackharjar and others

youruser: ☀️🌊🏖🐚

view all comments

yukitsunoda0511: turn your location on. now

| youruser: no

| yukitsunoda0511: what if you get kidnapped? or he sells you?

| youruser: please trust me

| yukitsunoda0511: all men are wolves. i know i am one

| youruser: that’s not a good look for you…

user: oh i know a diva when i see her

francisca.cgomes: gorgeous

| youruser: me or the view???

| francisca.cgomes: both 😘

| youruser: 🫣

user: youre unbelievable

alexandrasaintmleux: text us if you need anything

| francisca.cgomes: and we mean… anything 👀

| yukitsunoda0511: traitors. the both of you’s

user: good genes really run in the family

| youruser: no they passed him

| user: like a true little sister

user: location?

| youruser: beach.

| user: girl 💀

isackhadjar: nice 👍

| youruser: thanks 👍

| user: help why is he so dry

| user: what do you want him to say 😭 most of the grid doesn’t even follow her cause yuki threatened them

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

youruser

liked by isackhadjar and others

youruser: *sees 3rd pic* write that down 📝 📝WRITE THAT DOWN ✍️✍️✍️

view all comments

yukitsunoda0511: FRENCH

yukitsunoda0511: HES FRENCH

| youruser: we finally have something in common 🫶

| pierregasly: keep me out of this

| youruser: i didn’t say that i was talking about you…

| pierregasly: ⁉️

| youruser: sigh. i’ll give you a hint

| youruser: he’s not actually french but he lives here <3

| yukitsunoda0511: WHAT

| youruser: have fun

| yukitsunoda0511: GET BACK HERE I NEED MORE

| yukitsunoda0511: Y/N TSUNODA I SWEAR

user: at least he knows how to take pictures

| youruser: he didn’t. but i taught him

alex_albon: 👀

| yukitsunoda0511: WHAT DO YOU KNOW

| alex_albon: do you want me to be honest?

| yukitsunoda0511: YES

| alex_albon: absolutely nothing lol

| yukitsunoda0511: keep one eye open 🔪

user: i would buy you everything

user: she’s so pookie coded

isackhadjar: disney!

| youruser: disney!

| user: aw they’re getting along

| user: bet it’s cause he’s french too

| user: french you say 👀

| user: girl theyve like just met dont even 💀 plus isack isn’t french he was just raised in france

| user: 👀

| user: ❌

user: yuki crashing out that she’s dating was not on my bingo card but here we are

kellypiquet: p can not stop obsessing over those ears you’re sending

| youruser: anything for her <3

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

viscashapprb and isackhadjar

liked by formula2 and others

visacashapprb: winter break diaries 📖 ( isack’s version ) #f1 #vcarb

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user: hey hot stuff 😏

user: aw the 2nd pic

user: im sorry king i was unaware of your game last year 🙏

user: is he single?

| user: as far as we know

pepemartiofficial: looking fresh

| pepemartiofficial: wonder who for 👀

| user: oh nvm

| user: SPILL PEPE WHAT DO YOU KNOW

user: THE LAST PICTURE????

| user: what about it?

| user: DOES THE BEACH NOT LOOK THE SAME AS THE ONE ON YUKIS SISTERS???

| user: idk every beach looks the same to me?

| user: could be a coincidence. she showed that she was staying somewhere towards the bottom

| user: how are we so sure that it was her room though?

isackhadjar: I forget to properly look through the photos i sent

| youruser: youre a dumbass i cant believe the official team account did your soft launch

| isackhadjar: you love me

| youruser: guilty

| user: HWAT

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

isackhadjar

liked by youruser and others

isackhadjar: i have been given hard launch duties. here is my girlfriend 😊💙

( tagged: youruser )

view all comments

pepemartiofficial: finally

| yukitsunoda0511: YOU KNEW

| pepemartiofficial: 🧍‍♂️

olliebearman: rip isack. you’ll always be remembered for crashing in monza 🙏

| kimi.antonelli: i will sing at the funeral

| gabrielbortoleto_: i will prepare a speech

| jackdoohan: i’ll arrange a casket

| liamlawson30: i’ll get the location

| fernandoalo_oficial: and i will do flowers 👍

yukitsunoda0511: YOU

yukitsunoda0511: DIE

yukitsunoda0511: NOW

pierregasly: there he is

| danielricciardo: never even got a chance to meet him 😔

| pierregasly: it was better this way 🕊

youruser: not yuki beating me when im literally right next to you…

| youruser: this is embarrassing i need to step up my game

| yukitsunoda0511: YOURE WHERE WITH WHO

| youruser: in paris with my boyfriend 😁

youruser: WHY DID YOU PICK THOSE PICTURES

| isackhadjar: cause i like them

| youruser: omg really

| isackhadjar: yes. i like everything about you :)

| youruser: let’s get married

| yukitsunoda0511: WHAT NO

yukitsunoda0511: you’re going to regret ever being in f1

| youruser: yuki seriously chill. i’m not a kid

| yukitsunoda0511: idc YOURE MOT ALLOWED TO DATE ESPECIALLY A DRIVER

| youruser: too bad plus mum loves him

| yukitsunoda0511: WHAT

youruser: i love you

| isackhadjar: I love you more

yukitsunoda0511: ill see you in australia.

| isackhadjar: i feel like this is a threat

| yukitsunoda0511: it is.

| isackhadjar: oh!

| youruser: 🤦‍♀️

[dannyriccsystem]

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

[nottivagos]

an: hihi everyone!! sorry this isn't smut for tonight, i was just feeling the isack hadjar blues and decided to write some fluff for him <3 that being said, you can now request isack hadjar fics if you'd like!!

“isack hadjar is out of the australian grand prix!”

those words loomed over the racing bulls paddock as your wide, shocked eyes fixated on the screen in front of you, broadcasting isack’s crash as a replay. the vision of the vcarb hitting the wall after spinning due to the wet conditions on track haunting you as a pit formed in your stomach, tight knots of uncertainty of his safety following.

your heart shattered. isack’s mechanics groaned out of sympathy, heads in their hands at the horror that your boyfriend had suffered on his debut in formula one's formation lap. he'd been so strong all weekend, really proving himself and pushing himself to his limits to qualify just out of the points zone, keeping himself optimistic and level headed all weekend.

as you watched him jump out of the wreck, hand covering his eyes when he lifted his visor, you felt powerless. how you yearned to hold him in his arms, ever so tightly, just to try and console him after his terrible blunder. you knew how much today meant to isack, the golden chance he had to make a mark in the chaotic world of formula one, maybe even shine above the other 5 debuting rookies on this rainy sunday in melbourne, just to have it taken away by something out of his control.

the aftermath of the crash hung heavy over the paddock, some of the mechanics muttering about how isack’s crash must've “really took a knock out of his confidence” as you watched isack embrace anthony hamilton on his way to the media den. you couldn't help but smile at the sight, not only did he get the selfie he'd always dreamed of getting with the sir lewis hamilton, but now he was being consoled by the man's father.

his head hung low, probably out of embarrassment and upset as his sombre interview became background noise as you placed your headset back on its stand, making your way over to his driver room for after his interviews. you inhaled a shaky breath, clutching your bag slightly tighter on your shoulder as your eyes slightly welled up with tears.

a lump of sadness formed in your throat, the sight of your disheartened boyfriend burnt into your mind as the moment haunted your every step. what if the accident was worse? what if he'd gotten injured before he was even able to prove himself in the car? what if his career had ended in those moments before he'd even fully begun? the ‘what ifs’ plagued your mind, as you carried on down the path.

the muffled voices of isack and his engineer could be heard as you finally made it to his driver's room. gulping back your growing sorrows, a slightly shaky fist came to knock onto the door, with an abrupt silence following.

“who's there?” his engineer called out from the closed door.

you quickly introduced yourself, hoping that you'd be able to see your partner, hoping to hold him in your arms and shower him in much needed kisses. to your relief, a mumbled “let her in,” came from isack, and the door opened.

your eyes lit up as his engineer let you have this moment with him, closing the door on both of you.

“hey honey,” your voice was soft, as gentle as it could be as you took a seat next to him on the edge of the bed. his head hung low, eyes not bothering to look at you as you wrapped an arm around his shoulder, your thumb brushing soothingly against his white fireproofs.

“i thought this was my moment, ma beauté,” a strangled sob escaped isack’s lips, his hand coming to cover his eyes as if he tried to hide his overwhelming sadness and humiliation away from you. “i've let everyone down," he continued as you sighed, sliding off of the bed, removing your arm from his shoulder to stand in front of him.

“oh, mon cher,” you whispered, hand coming to cup his stinging cheek, “look at me. please.”

isack’s head turned upwards, meeting your soft eyes with his own sorrowful expression. “it's okay,” you spoke with a loving smile, “just let me kiss you,” you hummed, lips moving to pepper his face in light kisses.

isack smiled slightly, cheeks turning slightly pink at the unexpected affection from you. his hands found your hips, grabbing them gently as you continued to kiss him all over, giggling sweetly as you felt his heart flutter and his mood change slightly.

“what's this for, hm?” he asked, moving his face away slightly, tilting his head upwards to meet your eyes. “i didn't think you would've wanted to kiss a failure.”

“isack.” your voice became sterner for a second, “you're not a failure at all. this is merely just a little slip up. there's plenty more chances to show everyone just how amazing you are,” you mumbled, arms wrapping around him in a warm, loving embrace.

he chuckled slightly, arms wrapping around you as your bodies fitted beautifully perfectly together. he then sighed, “but what if i don't get any more chances? what if i’m more unlucky. what then?”

“isack, amour, you're overthinking,” you mumbled into his ear with a saddened sigh, pressing a soft kiss on his temple in response.

“i suppose i might be,” he responded, letting you nuzzle into his neck for a moment before you let go from his embrace.

“i almost forgot,” you chuckled, rummaging into your bag before pulling out a tupperware box full of your signature freshly baked croissants. “i wanted to share these with you after the race,” you continued, presenting the box of his favourite baked goods in front of him, “but maybe you'd appreciate them now? it might turn that frown upside down.”

you chuckled softly as isack quickly took the tupperware from you eagerly. “these,” he spoke, eyes glimmering with happiness as he set them down on the bed to his side before standing up, “have just made my whole weekend.”

he added, hands coming to cup your cheeks ever so tenderly, love shining in his eyes as he flashed his signature cheesy smiles. “thank you. for everything, ma chérie,” isack mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“you're welcome, isack,” you giggled lovingly, nose grazing his own, “anything for you.” <3

[cheftsunoda]

what about max sister who is a rookie in f1!?!?!?!

dnf (do not fall) (in love) — ih6

smau + blurbs

isack hadjar x !verstappen rookie reader

max verstappen x !sister rookie reader

being a verstappen meant racing was in yn’s blood— there was no way around that. this is her rookie year with vcarb and the one shot she has to prove herself as not only a female in f1 but max verstappen’s sister. she expects a lot of criticism and a rough adjustment but what she doesn’t expect is to fall in love with her new teammate — isack. the two are inseparable…all until a second seat at redbull opens and she has the opportunity to race next to her brother. will their young love survive?

(a/n) : i wasn’t sure if you wanted the reader to have a love interest or not and according to my polls the most requested rookie is isack and i loved this idea once i came up with it sooooooo. (anon if you want this changed i can absolutely rewrite you another version— just msg me) ps big brother max has me in a chokehold

fc : jazmynmakenna on ig and various f1 academy ladies

—

ynverstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, lando, danielriccirardo and 2,509,875 others.

ynverstappen : they gave yours truly an f1 seat! cannot wait and thank you for the opportunity @/visacashapprb. i have also chosen to race under my brother’s previous number, 33, as i hate to say it but he has been a huge inspiration to me over the years. (ft a picture of maxie when he found out)

tagged : visacashapprb and maxverstappen1

—

view 510,078 comments.

username07 : nonchalant just has to run in the verstappen genes because her announcement that she got an f1 seat as a female is too chill.

username15 : it literally does. this is the most emotion i’ve seen max show recently that wasn’t anger.

isackhadjar : kind of intimidated to share a garage with a verstappen😳

liked by ynverstappen

ynverstappen : promise i don’t bite

liked by isackhadjar

lando : she is lying

lando : i’ve known her for years and her presence still makes me feel inferior

ynverstappen : that’s just because dominant woman give you a boner

liked by lando

username08 : 33 rebirth?? us max fans r in shambles rn

username10 : the video where max found out mid interview and freaked out (and actually showed emotion) and left to call her had me so emotional

lando : cut to me losing to ANOTHER verstappen. when will the suffering end? congratulations love, no one deserves a seat more😁

liked by ynverstappen

ynverstappen : your suffering brings me so much joy <3 but thank you my lando. i’ll try not to lap you x

liked by lando

maxverstappen1 : “huge inspiration” meaning she has copied me since age seven. but i am so proud of you, zusje. it will be an honor to race beside you.

liked by ynverstappen

ynverstappen : copying since age 7, overtaking since age 14 😇 proud to be your little sister— lets make history maxie:)

liked by maxverstappen1

username00 : this is so cute omg

username17 : max has always had such a soft spot for his sisters

victoriaverstappen : endlessly proud of you, ynn! you are incredible and unstoppable ❤️ love you

liked by ynverstappen

ynverstappen : love u sm vic

josverstappen7 : 💪🏻💪🏻

liked by ynverstappen

sophiekumpen : nothing makes me happier than getting to see my babies live out their dreams together. so proud of you, yn.

liked by ynverstappen and maxverstappen1

ynverstappen : love you endlessly mama<3 thank u for giving me the strength to do it

liked by sophiekumpen

danielricciardo : i am so proud of you, bug. you did it! wish i could’ve been around to race with you but being able to watch you live your dream is enough for me.

liked by ynverstappen and maxverstappen1

ynverstappen : omg i miss you sm, danny. i love you:)

username00 : oh this has me in shambles

charles_leclerc : Congratulations! Please go easy on me, Ferrari is hurting me enough.

liked by ynverstappen

yukitsunoda0511 : let’s gooooo mini verstappen 🔥

liked by ynverstappen

susie_wolff : Absolutely incredible!

liked by ynverstappen

lewishamilton : As much as I do not need another Verstappen on the track, this is absolutely incredible and you definitely earned the spot, kid. Congratulations!

liked by ynverstappen

visacashapprb : So excited to have you! 💙

liked by ynverstappen

—

Max tapped his fingers against the armrest, half-listening as Yuki rambled about their latest post-race dinner bets. They were filming a “Red Bull Unfiltered” segment, the kind that always involved way too many inside jokes, mildly concerning questions from fans, and Max slowly losing patience with Yuki’s love for chaos.

“…and then Max tried to pay the bill with an expired hotel key card,” Yuki was saying.

“I was tired,” Max muttered, but his eyes flicked toward the producer walking over, whispering something to the crew behind the camera. One of them held up their phone, waving for Max’s attention.

“Uh,” the producer said carefully, “we just thought you might want to see this. It’s, uh, kind of big news.”

Max furrowed his brows and leaned forward, squinting to read the headline on the screen.

‘BREAKING: YN Verstappen Signs with Visa Cash App Racing Bulls for 2025 — Verstappen Set to Make Her F1 Debut’

He blinked.

Then blinked again.

“…wait. My sister?”

Yuki perked up beside him. “Oh, you didn’t know?”

Max snapped his head toward him. “What do you mean I didn’t know?! She didn’t say anything to me!”

Yuki shrugged. “I figured she wanted it to be a surprise.”

Max stood up so fast his mic wire popped loose.

“She’s in F1?” he repeated, voice climbing with disbelief. “Like—actually? Contract signed? Racing suit and all?!”

The producer gave a helpless nod. “It just went public two minutes ago.”

Max ran a hand over his face, pacing just out of frame. “She didn’t even text me. She just… dropped it on the internet?!”

Yuki was cackling now. “She said she wanted to do it ‘dramatically.’ I support it.”

Max didn’t answer. He was already unlocking his phone, shaking his head with a mix of pride and exasperation.

“Unreal,” he muttered, dialing her contact. “She’s in F1 and she didn’t even call her brother. I’m going to yell at her and then cry. Probably both.”

“Tell her congrats from me!” Yuki called after him.

“Tell her yourself,” Max grumbled. “She’s your problem on track now too.”

And with that, he disappeared off set—phone pressed to his ear, smile creeping in despite himself.

—

your pov

I hadn’t even posted the announcement yet. One second I was sitting in the kitchen, trying to decide if the “I made it to F1” Instagram dump needed one or three selfies — and the next, my phone lit up like a Christmas tree.

Thirty-two missed texts.

Two from Lando.

And three from Max, which was honestly scarier than anything.

I didn’t even get the chance to call him first. My phone started ringing again.

I sighed, braced myself, and answered.

“Hi—”

“YOU SIGNED WITH A CONTRACT AND DIDN’T TELL ME?!”

There it was. Classic Verstappen tone— 40% outrage, 40% disbelief, 20% Dutch dramatic flair.

“I was going to tell you!” I protested. “I just—”

“Oh, so you were gonna call me when? After lights out in Bahrain?!”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Max, relax.”

“I am not relaxing, you absolute traitor. I had to find out from a Red Bull media producer. A media guy, YN!”

“That’s kind of poetic, actually.”

“Don’t be cute! I nearly choked on my coffee!”

“Oh my god,” I groaned, flopping back into the couch. “I wanted to surprise you, okay? It was all super last-minute and I wasn’t even allowed to say anything for a week, and then it just—happened.”

There was a pause on the other end. Static silence. Then.

“…So it’s real? You’re actually—on the grid?”

I swallowed, heart twisting. “Yeah. I signed the contract yesterday. I’m a Formula 1 driver, Max.”

Another beat of silence. This one different.

“You’re a Formula 1 driver.”

And suddenly I felt it — the lump in my throat, the way my chest got tight. Because hearing it from him made it real.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, voice rough. “Even if you’re annoying and disrespectful and stole my number.”

I choked on a laugh, wiping at my eyes. “It was available and iconic. I saw my chance and I took it.”

“You’re the worst,” he muttered, but I could hear the smile.

“I love you too, Maxie.”

He sighed. “Just… don’t beat me too often, alright?”

“No promises,” I grinned. “I am younger, cooler, and statistically more photogenic.”

He groaned. “God help us all.”

—

The second I stepped into the paddock in my team gear, it hit me.

The cameras. The flashes. The smell of tire rubber and stress. The hum of engineers, reporters, PR teams, and mechanics buzzing like bees in a hive. It felt different. Bigger. Louder. Real. And before I could even finish taking a breath—there he was. Max. Walking toward me with his Red Bull attire on, arms crossed like he was already disappointed in someone.

I grinned. “Maxie!”

He stopped a few feet away and just stared for a second. No words. Just Max Verstappen, blinking at me like he’d seen a ghost.

“You look like a child who stole someone’s race suit.”

“Hi, nice to see you too.”

He smirked, finally stepping forward to pull me into a hug—tight, fast, and very Max. Like if anyone blinked, they’d miss it and think he wasn’t actually that emotional about it.

“You’re shorter than I remembered,” he muttered.

“You’re balding more than I remembered,” I shot back, grinning.

He pulled away, rolled his eyes, and nodded toward the paddock walkway.

“Come on. You’re with me.”

“What?”

“We’re doing a lap.”

“Max—”

“Nope. You’re not walking in alone. People are going to ask questions. And stare. And talk. So we’re going to give them a show.”

“A show?”

He smirked. “The Verstappen siblings. Side by side. Deal with it.”

And that was how I found myself being paraded around the paddock by my World Champion older brother, who somehow managed to look both wildly proud and deeply annoyed the entire time. Every five feet, someone stopped us.

“She’s really in F1 now?”

“Yes,” Max would reply, “and no, I had no say in it, which is why I’m coping with sarcasm.”

“Is she as fast as you?”

“No, she’s faster. But don’t tell her that.”

“How’s the family taking it?”

“Dad’s thrilled. Mom’s pretending to be chill. I’m recovering.”

At one point, Christian Horner walked by, gave me a hug, and said, “Don’t let him bully you.”

I smiled sweetly. “Too late.”

Max sighed like he regretted everything.

But as we finally reached the garage, he turned to me with something rare in his eyes—softness.

“You’ve got this,” he said. “I’ll still shove you off track if you come near me, but—you’ve got this.”

I bumped his shoulder. “I’ll wave as I pass you.”

He groaned and walked off, muttering in Dutch.

But I saw it—just before he turned the corner—he looked back. Just for a second.

And he smiled.

—

Max had left me at the door with a clap on the shoulder and a “Don’t crash on your first out-lap,” which, coming from him, was peak affection. But now I was alone. Rookie. Verstappen. On paper, that combination sounded bulletproof. In reality? My stomach was twisting.

“Hey,” a voice said behind me — light, but laced with hesitation. “You’re the other one.”

I turned and found him already looking at me. Isack Hadjar. Soft brown eyes, fireproofs half-zipped, posture relaxed but eyes alert. Another rookie. Another question mark.

“I guess I am,” I replied, folding my arms like I’d been here for years. “You’re Isack.”

“And you’re Max Verstappen’s little sister,” he said with a crooked smile. “Not intimidating at all.”

“I try,” I shot back. “But don’t worry — I only bite on race day.”

He laughed softly, but I could see the nerves flickering beneath the surface. I recognized it. Because I was feeling the exact same thing — only mine was hidden under sarcasm and inherited swagger.

“You excited?” he asked, then quickly corrected himself. “I mean—nervous?”

I shrugged, eyes scanning the garage like it wasn’t swallowing me whole. “Excitement, nerves… same thing with better PR.”

Isack tilted his head slightly, studying me. “You’re good at that.”

“At what?”

“Hiding it.”

I blinked. That hit a little closer than I expected.

“I grew up with Max,” I said after a pause. “You either learn to act unbothered, or you get flattened by a remote-controlled kart before your fifth birthday.”

He chuckled again, but there was something softer in his expression now. Like we’d quietly agreed not to lie to each other about how terrifying this all actually was.

“Same here,” he said. “Well, not the Max part. Just the pretending.”

There was a beat of silence between us. Comfortable. Mutual understanding in the middle of the storm.

Then he nodded toward the hospitality tent. “Come on. I found the best coffee machine already. It’s basically sacred now.”

I grinned, falling into step beside him. “Lead the way, Hadjar. But if you crash before lap three, I’m switching teammates.”

He smirked. “Deal — but only if I get to make fun of your first pit stop.”

“Perfect. I like you already.”

And just like that, the nerves didn’t feel so loud.

—

The second the checkered flag dropped, the radio crackled in my ears with a mess of cheers and screaming engineers — but I barely heard them. My hands were shaking on the wheel. My heart was trying to punch a hole through my chest.

P3. On my debut.

I barely managed to pull into parc fermé before my cockpit was ripped open by a pair of gloved hands.

“Are you serious?!” Max’s voice cracked as he reached in, grabbing my helmeted face like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “P3?! First race?!”

I laughed — breathless, dazed. “Surprise?”

He yanked me out of the car like I weighed nothing, spinning me once before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug, my helmet knocking against his chest.

“You little legend!” he shouted. “Proud doesn’t even cover it!”

The photographers were already swarming, flashes popping like fireworks. I pulled off my helmet just in time for Max to ruffle my soaked hair with his sweaty glove, completely ignoring every PR handler telling us to move.

“I beat half the grid,” I gasped.

“You beat four world champions and Lando, which is more important,” he smirked.

“Lando’s gonna cry.”

“I hope he does. I want to frame it.”

By the time we were pushed toward the podium, I was still floating — running on champagne fumes and Verstappen adrenaline. The announcer’s voice echoed in my ear. “In third place… on her Formula One debut… YN Verstappen!”

The crowd roared. The Dutch flags waved double.

Max was already standing in the middle spot, arms crossed proudly as I stepped up. He bumped my shoulder.

“You good?”

“I might throw up.”

He grinned. “Don’t. I already claimed that corner after turn 7.”

The anthem played, the champagne popped, and Max didn’t even try to wait — he turned his bottle on me first, absolutely soaking my suit while I shrieked and sprayed him right back.

By the time we were dragged off for media, we were dripping, hoarse from laughing, and still grinning like kids who got away with something huge.

“First podium,” Max said, slinging an arm around my shoulders, “and I didn’t even have to slow down to make it happen.”

“Don’t lie,” I teased. “You saw me in your mirrors and got scared.”

He snorted. “Terrified. Genuinely.”

And for once, I didn’t have to pretend I belonged.

Because I did.

—

The second I stepped away from Max and the chaos of the podium, I was ambushed.

“P3?!” Isack shouted, eyes wide, face flushed from the heat and pure disbelief. “Are you joking?! That was insane!”

Before I could even get a word out, he pulled me into a hug — tight, overwhelming, full-body kind of joy. And then?

He picked me up.

“Isack!” I half-laughed, half-screamed, gripping his shoulders as my feet left the ground. “Put me down!”

“Never, podium girl,” he grinned, spinning me once before finally setting me back down. “You drove like a lunatic. I’m in love.”

“You say that to all the girls who finish ahead of you?” I teased, still breathless.

“Only the ones who scare me.”

—

The music was loud, the lighting low, and everyone smelled like champagne and sweat and victory. Max was in the center of it all — holding court like the king of chaos — but I had slipped out to the terrace for air. Or maybe to find him. Isack found me first.

“You disappeared,” he said, stepping up beside me. His curls were damp, shirt unbuttoned just enough to make my heart stumble.

“I needed quiet.”

“You just got your first podium and quiet is what you want?”

I glanced over at him. “I’ve had a Verstappen in my ear all day.”

“Fair,” he said, laughing. Then quieter. “You were unbelievable out there.”

I smiled. “Thanks. You weren’t so bad yourself.”

We stood in silence for a beat, the party muffled behind us, lights from the track still glowing in the distance. The kind of night that buzzed in your chest.

Isack shifted closer, his voice lower now. “You know, I’ve been trying to play it cool since day one.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, tilting my head.

He looked down at me, eyes lingering. “You’ve made it impossible.”

The space between us crackled, the air suddenly warmer. I didn’t move away.

“So stop playing.”

His hand found my waist before I even finished the sentence, and then he kissed me — soft at first, careful, until I kissed him back.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t loud.

It was just ours.

—

ynverstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, isackhadjar, lando & 4,098,022 others.

ynverstappen : kinda gagged you hoes with this one tbh— p3 for me and p10 for isack. @/viscashapprb picked the right rookies ;) 

—

view 403,075 comments.

maxverstappen1 : god i raised you right. congratulations again, zusje. 

liked by ynverstappen

username00 : max pulling her out of the car and into a hug had me in shambles.

lando : kinda shit my pants when i saw you come up beside me

liked by ynverstappen

ynverstappen : how’d i look from behind lando?

liked by lando

maxverstappen1 : do not answer that lando

liked by ynverstappen

visacashapprb : rookie era = domination era

liked by ynverstappen and isackhadjar

mickschumacher : i think max actually teared up. proud doesn’t cover it, sis. 

liked by ynverstappen

pierregasly : iconic caption. terrifying sibling duo.

liked by ynverstappen

danielricciardo : you are not supposed to be able to flex this hard your rookie year. you are insane.

liked by ynverstappen

isackhadjar : ok podium princess. pop off.

liked by ynverstappen

kellypiquet : SO proud of you, yn! P was so proud of her Auntie. 

liked by ynverstappen

ynverstappen : give her a kiss for me <3

—

We were supposed to be at the F1 movie screening. You know — that very important, very serious, very mandatory private event that Liberty Media put together for the drivers. Instead? Max and I were halfway through a jumbo popcorn bucket, watching Tom Cruise sprint across a train at full speed in the new Mission Impossible movie. 

“Why does he always run like that?” Max whispered, squinting at the screen. “His arms are doing too much.”

I shushed him, mouth full of M&M’s. “He’s an action hero, Max. Let him have his dramatic cardio.”

He snorted and stole a handful of my candy. “You realize we’re both going to get fined for this.”

“Not if they don’t know.”

“They’re definitely going to know.”

I shrugged. “Worth it.”

Max tilted his head. “You’d really rather be here than on a red carpet with Lando trying to flirt with himself in a mirror?”

“Obviously.”

“…Okay, fair.”

We sank deeper into the plush seats, pretending we weren’t professional athletes ditching a high-profile media event for Tom Cruise and slushies. Halfway through the movie, my phone buzzed. A text from Lando in the group chat. 

where are you?? and max?? are you together??

I sent back a blurry photo of the movie screen and Max flipping the bird in the background.

family bonding exercise. don’t tattle. i will know.  

Ten minutes later, another text — from Isack this time. 

sigh. i will lie for you both. you owe me thoughhhh

I leaned over to Max. “We need a code word for if anyone asks where we were.”

“Easy,” he said. “We were… at a closed-door Verstappen family strategy meeting.”

“Nice. Sounds important.”

“We’re very professional.”

As the credits rolled and the lights came up, Max stood and stretched like we hadn’t just committed PR war crimes.

“Ready to face the wrath of literally everyone?”

I popped a last kernel into my mouth. “Always. Want to hit up a McDonald’s before we go back?”

He grinned. “That’s the Verstappen spirit.”

— 

ynverstappen added posts to her story!

seen by maxverstappen1, isackhadjar, charles_leclerc and 10,097,004 others.

{caption : mission impossible gets a A- from the verstappens}

danielricciardo : the most verstappen thing i’ve ever seen. so unbothered. so iconic. 

liked by ynverstappen

visacashapprb : this will be brought up at the meeting on monday.

liked by ynverstappen

ynverstappen : ok but max made me so can big daddy redbull yell at him too?

lando : you both r so unhinged i love it

liked by ynverstappen

charles_leclerc : max can get away with this but you doing this your rookie year is so wild that i can’t help but love you

liked by ynverstappen

maxverstappen1 : id say more of a b+ just due to his running

liked by ynverstappen

—

f1

508,090 likes.

f1 : Yuki Tsunoda has had to drop out of the rest of this season due to personal injury. YN Verstappen will be taking his place for the continuation of the season.

—

ynverstappen : get well my yuki pie. kiss that constructors goodbye mclaren. max and i have got it under control now <3

liked by maxverstappen1 and yukitsunoda0511

lando : god damnit 

username00 : YN??? in the redbull seat???? beside her brother??? omg

username15 : from rookie to redbull in half a season?? i love her.

redbullracing : new verstappen unlocked. 

liked by ynverstappen

visacashapprb : once a bull, always a bull. we will miss you, yn! good luck!

liked by ynverstappen

isackhadjar : gonna miss the best teammate on the planet:(

liked by ynverstappen

ynverstappen : oh hush you will still see me all the time. you cannot escape me hadjar

liked by isackhadjar

username10 : little verstappen girlbossing her way to the top. iktr my queen

liked by ynverstappen

username22 : max, yn and christian walking into the paddock like that one mean girls hallway scene

username14 : isack pretending to be ok with his secret love getting promoted is tugging at my heart strings

—

The paddock was quiet. Almost unnervingly so. Most people had already gone home, flown out, moved on. Except us. I found him in the back of the motorhome, still in his fireproofs, sitting on the floor like he couldn’t be bothered to pretend he was fine.

I closed the door behind me. “Hey.”

Isack looked up. Eyes tired. Soft. Too soft.

“Hey, Red Bull.”

I winced. “Don’t call me that.”

He didn’t say anything.

I crossed the room and sat beside him. For a second, we just existed in silence — the kind that sits between two people who don’t know what happens next.

“I didn’t know,” I said quietly. “Not until this morning. I swear.”

He gave me a small nod, but I could feel the weight behind his silence.

“I didn’t ask for this,” I added. “Yuki’s out, and they didn’t want to bring someone from outside. I just… I don’t know. I got the call and everything moved so fast.”

“I know,” he said finally. “I know it’s not your fault.”

I glanced at him. “But?”

He shrugged. “But it still sucks.”

That was fair. Because it did. It sucked. We’d built this little world — a bubble between races and pressure and secrecy. We were in this together. And now, I was leaving. Not physically, maybe. But symbolically, I was crossing the line into something… different. Bigger. Riskier.

“You know I didn’t want this to change us.”

He leaned his head back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. “Yeah. But it will.”

I looked down at my hands. “Do you hate me?”

His head snapped toward me. “What? No. God, no. Don’t ever think that.”

“Then say something real, Isack. Because I’m terrified. I want to be excited, but I feel like I’m losing you at the same time.”

He reached for my hand, fingers brushing over mine, like he was trying to memorize something before it slipped away.

“You’re not losing me,” he said. “You’re just… driving away a little faster now.”

I laughed, watery and cracked. “That was so corny.”

“Yeah, well. I’m dramatic.”

We sat there like that for a while — our hands tangled, our hearts somewhere between celebration and heartbreak. And neither of us said the words that felt too dangerous to speak out loud. But we both thought them.

—

ynverstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, isackhadjar and 5,090,788 others.

ynverstappen : i did not come here to race— i came here to gamble and find aliens.

—

view 120,079 other comments.

redbullracing : your contract says you are here to race 

liked by ynverstappen

ynverstappen : details details

username00 : i just know those pictures are with isack i can feel IT

maxverstappen1 : if the fia doesn’t fine you i might. get my face off that thing. who did you even pay to do that???

liked by ynverstappen

ynverstappen : i never spill my secrets

danielricciardo : yn. i love you so much. never change

liked by ynverstappen

isackhadjar : no aliens so far but big wins at the casino

liked by ynverstappen

ynverstappen : my 25 cents got me a bouncy ball

charles_leclerc : you are the strangest person i ever met and i mean it with love.

liked by ynverstappen

lando : am i going to have to stare at max while i’m driving??

liked by ynverstappen

ynverstappen : sadly no— he has to be taken down tomorrow :(

yukitsunoda0511 : did you get me one of those magnets??

liked by ynverstappen 

ynverstappen : absolutely. also got you a hat 

liked by yukitsunoda0511

georgerussell63 : i would say i am surprised but this seems right on brand for you

liked by ynverstappen

oscarpiastri : aliens, beer, chaos and still managing to be faster than all of us. i respect it.

liked by ynverstappen 

—

Isack leaned in close, grinning as he dropped a coin into one of those cheap slot machines near the back of the casino. It chimed dramatically — a few lights blinked — and nothing happened.

“Wow,” I deadpanned. “We’re really making financial history here.”

He turned to me with mock offense. “Don’t underestimate me. I’m manifesting a $1.25 win tonight.”

“Big spender.”

“Only for you.”

He looked good in the dim casino light — hoodie up, laugh lines crinkling, hands brushing against mine like he forgot we were still supposed to be subtle. We were tucked into a little corner, away from the high-stakes tables and the main traffic, blending in like two tourists with a gambling problem and no adult supervision. Which was ironic. Because we did, in fact, have adult supervision. And he was literally walking toward us.

“Tell me that’s not who I think it is,” I muttered, already bracing myself.

Isack followed my gaze, and then visibly stiffened. Max Verstappen. In a baseball cap. Looking so out of place in a casino that he might as well have worn a sign that said “I’m here to ruin your night.”

“Is this… a date?” Max asked, approaching like a dad discovering his daughter at prom with the neighborhood bad boy.

I blinked at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw your location on Find My Friends,” he said simply, like that wasn’t insane. “And I was hungry. There’s a buffet. What are you doing here with him?”

Isack was trying very hard not to laugh. Max turned to him. “You. Are you corrupting my sister?”

“I’m sitting next to her.”

“Exactly. Corruption.”

I sighed. “Max, we’re literally just playing slots and pretending we’re cooler than we are.”

“You could be doing that with me.”

“You crashed our night.”

“You soft-launched him, YN. On Instagram. That’s not subtle.”

Isack, finally unable to help himself, leaned forward and said, “I can just… go lose a few games and come back if you two need to work this out?”

“No, you stay here,” Max said. “I want to watch.”

“Oh my God,” I muttered, burying my face in my hands.

Max pulled up a chair. “So. Who’s winning?”

“Not me,” I groaned.

Isack slipped an arm around the back of my chair. “Emotionally? I am.”

Max pointed a finger at him. “Keep that energy and I’ll make you drive the simulator for ten hours straight.”

—

I found Max sitting in the far corner of the hospitality suite, feet kicked up, watching an old race replay on mute with a bowl of M&Ms.

“Hey,” I said, slumping into the seat beside him.

He glanced at me, raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here to tell me you broke the simulator again, I swear—”

“I’m dating Isack.”

Max blinked. Then slowly turned to look at me, like his brain was buffering.

“…That’s not the sentence I thought was coming.”

I sighed, tugging my Red Bull hoodie tighter around me. “We’ve been together for a few months. And I want to tell people. I want to post him. But Red Bull said no. PR thinks it’s messy for ex teammates to be public. Especially rookies.”

Max was silent for a beat too long. Long enough for the lump in my throat to make itself known.

“And I’ve been fine with it, really. But now it just… sucks. I’m proud of him. Of us. I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

When I glanced over, Max’s expression had shifted. Still smug, sure — he was genetically incapable of anything else — but softer. Protective.

“You love him?” he asked, suddenly serious.

I hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I really do.”

He exhaled. “Well, shit. That’s gross.”

I snorted. “Thanks.”

“But,” he continued, sitting up straighter, “you’re my little sister. And if you want to go public, then they’re going to have to deal with it.”

“I don’t think they’ll listen to me,” I admitted quietly.

He gave me a look. “They’ll listen to me.”

“Max…”

“No, no. Let me do my big brother thing. I’ll make it sound like my idea. I’ll throw in some nonsense about driver psychology and team chemistry and then threaten to tell everyone Christian once used the company card to buy socks or something.”

I blinked. “Wait—”

He smirked. “It was a lot of socks. Suspiciously soft. But that’s not the point.”

I smiled, for real this time. “You’d really help me with this?”

“Of course,” he said, nudging my shoulder. “You’re my sister. Also, it’s getting weird how often I see you two sneaking around the paddock like you’re in some bad teen soap.”

“We are discreet!”

“You once hid in a tire stack. A tire stack, YN.”

“…Okay, that one was bad.”

“I rest my case.”

He grinned, then stood, tossing a handful of M&Ms into his mouth.

“Don’t worry. Give me 48 hours and I’ll either have Red Bull greenlight your relationship, or Isack will mysteriously be promoted to team chef. Either way, you’ll be together.”

“Max.”

“What? He’d look good in an apron plus he is French, they all know how to cook.” 

—

third person pov

Max walked in like he owned the place — because, in most ways that mattered, he kind of did. No one dared stop him as he bypassed the closed office doors and planted himself at the PR team’s weekly strategy meeting.

“Hi,” he said, dropping into the nearest seat and immediately grabbing someone’s Red Bull can. “We need to talk about something important.”

The PR lead — Anna, a steely woman who’d dealt with three world championships, six major scandals, and Daniel Ricciardo’s press era — narrowed her eyes. “You’re not on the agenda.”

“I am now.”

Anna sighed. “What is it this time?”

Max leaned back, completely unbothered. “My sister and Isack. Let them go public.”

The entire table went still. “Max,” someone ventured, “we’ve already discussed—”

“I don’t care what you discussed,” he said casually. “She’s not just any rookie. She’s a Verstappen. And you’ve built half your marketing around that name, so don’t pretend she’s just another F1 junior.”

Anna pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not about her. It’s about optics. Two rookies, on that were on the same team, in a relationship—if things go wrong, it reflects badly on everyone. Including you.”

Max smiled. It was not comforting.

“Well, lucky for you, it won’t go wrong. And if it does? I’ll handle it. Personally.”

“Max—”

“She wants to support him. She wants to be proud. And if you think the fans don’t already know, you’re delusional. They’re soft-launching harder than Red Bull launched the RB20.”

There was a brief pause as Anna quietly suffered an aneurysm. Max continued, tapping the table for emphasis. “You don’t want a PR mess? Fine. Spin it. Call it a modern motorsport love story. Say they’re the new power duo. Say it’s good for morale. Say I approve.”

“And if we say no?”

Max’s smile turned sharper. “Then I’ll start answering press questions with nothing but increasingly obvious metaphors until everyone figures it out anyway.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I once threatened to tell the world Christian Horner buys cashmere socks with the team card. Try me.”

The table went silent again. Finally, Anna gave a tight sigh.

“Fine. We’ll prepare a rollout plan. But they need to wait until after the next race weekend.”

“Perfect,” Max said, standing. “See? Productive meeting.”

And with that, he walked out—leaving behind only stunned silence, a stolen Red Bull, and the faint scent of smug satisfaction.

—

your pov

I was curled up sideways on the little motorhome couch, legs tossed over Isack’s lap while he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone and occasionally played with the hem of my hoodie. We were both half asleep — the kind of tired that only comes from humidity, media duties, and not enough hydration. It was peaceful. Cozy. Normal. And then Max burst through the door. Like, no knock. No text. Just dramatic, older-brother energy and a swinging door slam that jolted both of us upright.

“Hey,” he said casually, already walking in like he paid rent. “You can go public now.”

I blinked at him. Isack looked like someone had hit him with a tire gun.

“…What?”

He flopped into the armchair across from us, totally unbothered. “I talked to PR. They said yes. Starting next week, you can post your little couple photos and stop sneaking around like badly-written spies.”

“You what?” I sat up straighter, heart hammering. “Max, are you serious?”

He picked up an energy drink off the table and opened it like he was commenting on the weather. “Yes. You’re welcome. Also, the part about me maybe threatening to sabotage their next press conference unless they agreed is not important.”

Isack coughed. “You did what?”

Max waved him off. “Relax, it was charming. Besides, if you’re going to date my sister, you need to get used to this level of intensity.”

I was still trying to catch up. “They actually said yes?”

“Yes,” he repeated. “You’ll be allowed to post him. Or whatever weird Gen Z thing you two do. God help us all.”

I blinked again and then threw a pillow at him — hard. He caught it easily, smug as ever.

“Max,” I said, trying not to cry and also not to laugh. “I’ve been so stressed about this.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” he said. “So I fixed it. Now you don’t have to be sad, and I don’t have to keep pretending not to see your ‘subtle’ Instagram stories of your matching shoes.”

Isack turned red instantly. “You saw those?”

Max grinned. “I see everything.”

I lunged for another pillow. Max was already halfway to the door, dodging with a laugh.

“Love you too, zusje,” he called. “Don’t do anything weird in here. These walls are thin.”

And then he was gone — the door swinging shut behind him, leaving Isack and me in stunned silence.

“…So,” Isack finally said, wide-eyed. “Your brother really is terrifying.”

I grinned, heart full. “Terrifying, chaotic, and unfortunately… kind of my hero.”

—

I could barely breathe when I pulled into parc fermé, hands shaking as I climbed out of the car. The lights of Vegas were wild — flickering, neon, larger than life — but somehow, they weren’t brighter than this. My first win. I won. In Las Vegas. Max was the first one to reach me, already half out of his own car in P2. I barely had time to process the blinking cameras before he pulled me into a crushing hug, lifting me off the ground like I weighed nothing.

“P1 in Vegas?” he shouted, grinning so hard it looked painful. “You’re such a show-off.”

I laughed, clinging to him. “You’re the one who told me to ‘go big or go home.’”

“Yeah, not bigger than me!”

Lando joined us, helmet under one arm, smirking. “I was this close to denying a Verstappen 1-2. Next time I’ll actually try.”

“Save it for the podium,” I shot back, wiping sweat and confetti off my face.

The podium ceremony was electric — loud, glittering, ridiculous. Vegas on steroids. I took my place at the top step, looking out over the crowd, and when the Dutch anthem started playing, I looked down at Max — my brother, my forever teammate — and he saluted me like an idiot, mouthing, This is so annoying for me. I nearly cried laughing. Champagne flew. Trophies gleamed. Gold lights burst above our heads. But the real chaos came the moment I stepped down from the podium and turned — straight into Isack. He was waiting just off to the side, still in his racing gear, eyes shining. No words — just a smile, the kind that hit deep in my chest. I threw my arms around him, and before I could think, he was lifting me off the ground like I weighed nothing, spinning us once before setting me down and—Kissing me. Right there, in front of everyone. The cameras. The teams. The fans. Max. It didn’t matter. Because it felt like the win, the noise, the moment… all crashed together into one perfect second.

When we finally pulled back, Isack grinned. “So, I guess it’s your round at the casino tonight?”

I laughed, cheeks on fire. “Only if you kiss me like that again when I win roulette.”

Max wandered up behind us, champagne bottle still in hand. “Right, okay. I’ll allow the kiss this once because she won. But don’t make it a habit or I’m launching you into the Bellagio fountain.”

Isack just grinned and pulled me closer.

“Worth it.”

—

ynverstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, isackhadjar, lando & 10,075,000 others.

ynverstappen : celebratory vegas win post (hard launch post coming in the next 5 minutes)

tagged : isackhadjar, maxverstappen1, kellypiquet

—

view 420,904 other comments.

kellypiquet : getting a blanket with your face on it next— congrats our race winner ❤️

liked by ynverstappen

victoriaverstappen : the proudest i have ever been:)

liked by ynverstappen

maxverstappen1 : what about my first race win??

liked by ynverstappen

victoriaverstappen : BOOOOOO

maxverstappen1 : i raised this little beast myself, you are welcome world. congratulations zusje, i love you. (but don’t tell anyone)

liked by ynverstappen

lando : not me being third again behind BOTH verstappen’s, one wasn’t enough, huh? congratulations darling:)

liked by ynverstappen

alexalbon : isack giving trophy wife realness

liked by ynverstappen and isackhadjar

charles_leclerc : you and max look like the evil twins from the shining in your matching redbull gear

liked by maxverstappen1 and ynverstappen

ynverstappen : here’s johnnyyyyyy!

—

ynverstappen

liked by isackhadjar, lando, maxverstappen1 & 8,090,007 others.

ynverstappen : everyone say thank you max for threatening redbull so isack and i can go public 🗣️

—

view 110,050 other comments.

maxverstappen1 : i blackmailed my own team just to have to stare at these photos. sigh. best brother of the century.

liked by ynverstappen

ynverstappen : love you maxieeeeee

liked by maxverstappen1

username0 : omg this is such a max thing to do and it warms my heart

lando : the way i saw you both flirting for months and i just thought you both were weird.

liked by ynverstappen

carlossainz55 : just casually won your first f1 race as a rookie and launched your f1 driver bf within the same hour— wild. love it.

liked by ynverstappen

sophiekumpen : soooo cute! bring him home to me soon.

liked by ynverstappen and isackhadjar

lando : wait wait wait— does this make you both WAGS?

liked by ynverstappen and isackhadjar

isackhadjar : yep

isackhadjar : you may have won vegas but i won you and that is the biggest achievement in the world

liked by ynverstappen

maxverstappen1 : redbull i take it back- ban them.

liked by ynverstappen and isackhadjar

redbullracing : two verstappens on our team means we get absolutely no rest.

liked by ynverstappen and maxverstappen1

—

isackhadjar

liked by ynverstappen, maxverstappen1, yukitsunoda0511 & 2,035,078 others.

isackhadjar : the love of my life. ft a throwback pic of me and mad max who saved the day.

—

view 80,074 other comments.

maxverstappen1 : you both owe me dinner and a vacation.

liked by ynverstappen and isackhadjar

ynverstappen : lucky for you we just won 20 dollars at the casino

ynverstappen : my boy<3 love you always

liked by isackhadjar

yukitsunoda0511 : I KNEW ITTTTT. now you guys owe me one of those inflatable alien things from area 51.

liked by ynverstappen and isackhadjar

ynverstappen : already shoved in one of my suitcases

visacashapprb : the cutest. we started this!! 💙

liked by ynverstappen and isackhadjar

username00 : did max give a big brother speech?

ynverstappen : 10 hours of maxplaining

maxverstappen1 : did what was necessary

isackhadjar : i learned that when we get married i will be forced to take the verstappen last name

liked by ynverstappen

maxverstappen1 : damn right

ynverstappen : you said when not if ASDHBDUBDSPA🥺

maxverstappen1 : blocking you both rn.

liked by ynverstappen and isackhadjar

[slowpitstop]

Over my dead body – IH6

summary: in which you pick a fight at the club with a guy who won’t take no for an answer and your bf Isack has to step in

isack hadjar x reader

note: just a very short one, born in my head last night from the classic and cheesy fantasy of his stupidly big protective arms getting in the way ahhhhhhhhhhh this guy just looks so yummy I want to eat him

You don’t even know the girl but you’ve been watching her for five minutes now, being cornered by a random guy a little too insistent. Her drink is pressed against her chest like a shield as he leans in too close. You’re already pushing your way over before you can stop yourself.

You approach and put a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?”

The guy looks at you and frowns.

“Mind your business.”

“I'm talking to her,” you say, eyes locked onto the girl’s.

She nods and whispers a thank you before slipping away into the crowd. The guy turns to you, furious.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

He steps closer, towering over you but before he can say anything else, a familiar muscular arm wraps protectively around your waist.

“Hey, back off,” Isack growls.

The guy laughs.

“What? That’s your bodyguard? If your girlfriend's got enough guts to come and ruin my plans then she should be able to defend herself on her own.”

He is going to put a finger on your chest to support his point but your reflexes kick in before you think and you push him hard. You freeze, terrified. Regaining balance, he goes to take a swing at you when his fist cracks against Isack’s cheekbone who stepped in front of you to shield your body with his.

“Isack!” you shout.

“She had it coming,” says the guy, smirking.

“Over my dead body,” declares Isack dramatically, then slams his fist into the guy’s face before he can flinch.

Security jumps in, dragging the guy out as Isack stumbles, holding his face. Blood runs across his jaw and his fist.

“Putain de merde,” he groans under his breath, spitting to the side like he needs to shake the pain out. “Putain, that hurt.”

Later, you are in a quiet staff room away from the music where the bartender sneaked you into. Isack is slouched on a bench, his head tilted back against the wall. He holds his jaw while cursing in French.

“You need ice,” you whisper, wrapping a few cubes in a towel. You kneel in front of him and press it gently to his skin.

He flinches.

“Aïe. Easy.”

“Sorry,” you say, quieter now. “Does it hurt a lot?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. He looks at you, irritated and full of heat.

“Are you insane?” he snaps. “You pick fights with guys built like trucks now?”

“I didn’t know he was gonna hit someone!”

“You shoved him!”

You look down, guilt rising.

“I couldn’t just watch,” you murmur. “She looked scared.”

He exhales through his nose, wincing as he adjusts the ice.

“You’re lucky I was there.”

“I am,” you say softly as you sit next to him. You let a silence stretch between you before adding shyly: “At least now you look like a real MMA fighter.”

He looks at you, shaking his head like he cannot believe you are joking right now, but his bleeding hand not holding the ice finds its way to your bare thigh.

“You drive me fucking insane.”

You bury your head in the crook of his neck, seeking comfort in his warmth.

“I am sorry, I didn’t want you to get hurt,” you whisper “I just couldn’t let it go.”

He pulls your head up gently until you’re looking at him and you feel the anger has faded.

“It’s okay, I would have stepped in either way. But watching you stand there like you could take him alone… God, you have no idea what that did to me.”

The ice towel hangs from his hand now, drops trailing down his wrist.

“I could have taken him,” you smile.

Isack laughs and the anger on his face cracks into something softer.

“Yeah sure, you and your fifty kilos of rage.”

There’s barely any space left between you. Your fingers brush his shirt and the fabric near his stomach. You look at him, he is bruised and stupidly beautiful in the blue club lights.

His hand cups the back of your head and he kisses you softly at first. Then his hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss deepens, hot and charged with adrenaline as if he needs to make sure you’re really there.

Pulling back to catch his breath, he murmurs:

“Okay, let’s get out of here, time to go home.”

[littlegrapejuice]

Small Friend? | IH6

Pairing: Isack Hadjar x Reader

Summary: You've seen many drivers get a seat at Racing Bulls, but only one managed to charm you. So thank God that it's not for your knowledge of French that the team hired you, because it almost cost you a relationship.

Author's Note: ok so I'm acc posting later than i had originally planned bc i realised i hadn't proofread the fic nor decided on da pics till an hour ago😭 (+ i gotta edit on tumblr so it takes even more time) anywayyyys i hope you enjoy<3

F1 MASTERLIST🏎

Since working for Racing Bulls, there was one opinion you’ve always had over the last couple years: you had seen way too many different drivers go through one single seat. You also thought they’d had too many name changes but this was a whole other thing.

You had first joined the team during an internship for your first year of university. You were starting the engineering degree you’d always dreamt of, and landing an internship in motorsports had been your main goal when your teachers were asking every student to find something before the end of the first term.

You had been lucky enough to end up at AlphaTauri, which had been employing the iconic duo formed by Pierre Gasly and Yuki Tsunoda at the time. You were obviously not working at the track during race weekends, but you had eventually met them after a few months at the factory where you spent every other week. You were over the moon when the team accepted to keep you for your second year of university, glad to have shown them your potential.

You hadn’t expected it, but you were apparently doing good enough of a job that you were one day allowed to assist the team during a grand prix. This wasn’t the first race you attended – having gone to Imola and Monza when you were younger, courtesy of your father who was a big motosports fan – but this was the first race you worked at. It was everything you had expected, but so much more at the same time. The paddock was overwhelming and the garage was even louder than the noise you would hear at the factory, but in a good way. You felt like a kid opening their Christmas presents, and you couldn’t wait to prove to the team that they wouldn’t regret having brought you there.

And it worked. Despite a couple rookie mistakes that were insignificant, you had done your job correctly and you were soon to be rewarded for it.

Having noticed you for your young age, Pierre and Yuki had both wanted to know more about you as they only knew your name from when they had met you at the factory. They asked you questions about your life, your dreams, and how you felt amongst the team. They had both been so nice and welcoming, you were glad that they were the current pairing for AlphaTauri. It seemed that you had also made a good impression on them because several weeks later, you were being called for another grand prix, and another, and another, until you were coming to almost every race for the last half of the season.

The team knew that you had to focus on your studies as well, but they were pulling a few strings that were mysteriously improving your attendance even when you weren’t even present in the classroom. The AlphaTauri duo had eventually let it slip that they had vouched for you to have more responsibilities, and you sometimes wondered if you were really that good at your job or if they just enjoyed your company – both, if someone were to ask them.

So as you spent more time with the drivers, you actually befriended them. They taught you about the spots to hit around certain tracks, recommended you good restaurants – mostly Yuki, and they even forced you to know some basic sentences in their respective native language. Pierre was definitely a better teacher than Yuki, and it also helped that French was easier to learn since you already knew Italian.

The next year, you unfortunately had to say goodbye to Pierre who was joining Alpine and this was the season during which you had seen too many driver changes. From Nyck de Vries starting the year to Daniel Ricciardo who had then replaced him, you had also met Liam Lawson. It was hard for you to actually create a bond with each driver, and you mostly stayed in Yuki’s side of the garage. On the one hand, you wished for Yuki to one day join Red Bull because you knew that he had the potential. On the other hand, you were kind of glad that he was still in AlphaTauri with you.

Eventually you were reaching your fourth year of university, and you still couldn’t believe the fact that you had spent almost the entirety of the first three with the same company. To be honest, it had played in your favour that the F1 seasons and academic years weren’t the same. This meant that every time you were starting a new school year, you were technically still employed for the end of season, and the team didn’t think much about keeping you for the next one.

So here you were, in the last term of your final year, ready to make the 2025 F1 season a success. AlphaTauri had become Racing Bulls the previous year – actually VCARB – and you were still wondering why they needed to change their name so often. Now more than ever, you really hoped that after completing your degree, the team would keep you and offer you a full-time job for the rest of the season. According to Yuki, you were already doing as much of a job as the other employed engineers, but he understood why you wanted the actual validation that came after your years-long internship.

Part of you was still missing Pierre years later, but Yuki having a new French teammate made you think about the Japanese driver attracting them. You hadn’t talked much with Isack since he had been given the RB seat, but from what Yuki told you, he was really nice and always matching his energy.

You had met the F2 vice-champion during the pre-season tests and to say that it was still haunting you was an understatement. You had actually been excited to meet him at first: he was a couple years younger than you, but you were glad that you wouldn’t be the youngest anymore in the garage. You had even practiced your rusty French – which you hadn’t talked much since Pierre left – but when Yuki had introduced you to Isack, your brain had short-circuited for whatever reason. It was definitely not because Isack had the prettiest smile you’d ever seen. You remembered the lack of words coming out of your mouth, as you had then awkwardly settled for a regular greeting in English before Isack replied more confidently with his thick accent.

Following this meeting, you’d had no choice but to give up on speaking French with Isack, too scared that you’d embarrass yourself once again. This fear somehow grew bigger every time you’d hear Isack let some French slip up, force of habit you supposed. You had heard the occasional “putain” (fuck) and “merde” (shit), which meanings were quite easy to remember from the amount of times that Pierre had also said those words.

However, your lack of knowledge regarding actual grammar, conjugation, vocabulary – literally everything, let’s be honest – was soon evident to Isack. Indeed, you had once caught him talking to Laurent Mekies – in French, of course – and the confusion on your face had been so obvious that Yuki had begun laughing next to you. It wasn’t like Yuki had understood anything himself, but he knew that you were supposed to be more familiar with the language than him. Safe to say, he hadn’t wasted any time texting Pierre and talking to Isack about it. On the one hand, the oldest of the two Frenchmen had relentlessly teased you, disappointed that you hadn’t kept learning despite his departure from the Italian team. On the other hand, the youngest driver had thought of another idea.

From one race weekend to another, Isack had started to come up to you more often as the season went by. You were glad for the blossoming friendship, but one of his actions always left you confused at the end of your conversations. It would always start as usual: discussing the race, the possible weather, the choices of tyre strategy… Yuki would be present the majority of the time; but every time it would just be you and Isack, the driver would always end the conversation with something in French. So this was what happened during your most recent one:

“J’adore ton maquillage d’ailleurs (I love your makeup by the way)”, Isack had told you. “Ton rouge à lèvres fait ressortir ton beau sourire (your lipstick highlights your pretty smile)”.

Obviously, you had been completely lost as to what it meant. The only things you were familiar with were “lèvres” (lips) and “sourire” (smile) as you remembered learning how to describe yourself, but that was about it. The next time wasn’t any better as it had been a similar situation: another French sentence, another confusion.

“Tu devrais attacher tes cheveux plus souvent, c’est plus facile pour admirer tes yeux (you should wear your hair up more often, it’s easier to admire your eyes)”.

You wished you could be mad at him every time you asked him to translate, your head tilting to the side with a frown, but the innocent smile he kept giving was always enough to immediately make you forget about whatever he had said to you.

And as the races went by, Isack didn’t stop this little ritual, even pushing it to actual pick-up lines – not that you would notice the change in meanings. You couldn’t even write down what Isack was saying to translate it later; he was speaking so French-y that you had a hard time even picking up individual words. Your only hypothesis was that he was teasing about something – what, you didn’t know – but given his tone and what you knew about him, it could never be something mean or hurtful. 

…..

It had been a few months since Isack had begun the tradition. You had to admit you were a bit frustrated by the fact that you still didn't understand him any better, even though you had started to study French again to improve your level. Talking with Pierre or Esteban was sometimes useful, but they weren’t part of your team and you didn’t want to practice with Isack until you had reached a somewhat acceptable level.

However, it seemed that this milestone would happen sooner than expected as a conversation with Pierre about Isack’s quirk made you realise what had been obvious from the beginning.

“You want to tell me you didn’t get that he was flirting with you for all those months?” If Pierre’s eyes could go any wider than how they currently were, they would. “Oh mon Dieu… (oh my God). You’re unbelievable!”

“I mean… whenever we talk, it’s in English and about racing!” You retorted. “I never understand what he’s saying in French, how would I know it was flirting?”

“The way he looks at you?” Pierre raised an eyebrow. “Avec son sourire niais là (with his stupid smile). This is un-be-lie-va-ble,” he repeated while accentuating each syllable.

“How do you even know what’s he been saying to me?” You wondered. “I don’t remember seeing your bald head lurking around my garage.”

“I’m gonna forget the bald comment and reply anyway.” The driver leaned back on the wall, with a sigh. “You don’t think Isack thought of every pick-up line by himself, do you?”

“They were all pick-up lines?”

“Most of them”, Pierre explained. “It was just compliments at first.”

“Wow, okay…” You didn't know what to think anymore.

Isack had always been friendly, of course. And you liked spending time around him. And you liked whenever he had time to talk to you, something he didn’t do with every member of the team. And yes, you even liked the random French sentences even if you couldn’t understand a word for months. And you liked his smile, his laugh, his determination, his passion for racing, his kindness. And–

“Hello?” Pierre waved his hand in front of your face. “What are you daydreaming about, now?”

“Just thinking about what I should do now…”

“Easy,” someone other than Pierre replied. “You flirt back in a language he doesn’t understand. That way, you’re even.”

Without a care, Yuki – who had been listening to the conversation for a couple minutes – went to stand next to Pierre.

“How long have you been listening?” You asked, confused as to why you hadn’t noticed.

“Didn’t hear everything,” Yuki admitted. “Just from the part when Pierre says he helped Isack flirt with you, which is the most surprising part of the story.”

“Okay, rude? First, please don’t gang up on me. Second, I agree with the idea though. She gotta flirt back now that she finally realised – even if it wasn’t alone – that Isack is in love with her.”

“Let’s not go that far and say he’s in love with me,” you argued.

“Close enough, to be honest.” Yuki thought for a second. “You know I love you, but I cannot stand hearing him simp for you every fucking time I’m with him.”

“Okay, so what? I flirt back, and then?”

“I don’t know, go make out or whatever young people do when they like each other.”

“Respectfully Pierre, absolutely not. Even though it didn’t start like a normal relationship–”

“There’s no relationship right now,” Yuki clarified.

“Seriously?” You glared at Yuki, and kept going. “Anyways, even though it didn’t start – yet – like a normal relationship, I’m not fucking up everything based on Pierre’s stupid idea. But, I guess I can just ask him out directly.”

“You actually like him?” Yuki asked, feigning confusion.

“Yes? I swear to God, you make zero effort to help me.” If you could, you would just leave the conversation. “Pierre, I’ll unfortunately be counting solely on you so please give me like one or two good French pick-up lines so I can kinda get back at him. Not the same that you gave to Isack, though.”

“You can count on me, don’t worry. I’ll coach you on your pronunciation and delivery for the next race, you’ll be ready in no time.”

“Thank you. At least someone is being helpful.”

“Guys this was literally my idea,” Yuki complained. “You’re ungrateful. I hope Isack rejects you.”

“No you don’t?” You argued.

“I don’t, yes. But still you’ll get karma for your disrespect”, Yuki threatened.

“Eh, send it my way.” You shrugged, a smile on your face.

The conversation then ended in a playful atmosphere. You were glad to still have a solid friendship with both –formerly – AlphaTauri drivers, and truly hoped that you would soon be able to share the good news of being successful with Isack.

…..

Fast forward to the next grand prix, you and Pierre had dutifully practiced some pick-up lines for you to use on Isack. Saying that you were nervous was an understatement, and you really hoped that only one of them would be enough to charm Isack. But of course, things wouldn’t go as you had planned.

Waiting until after qualifying to not disrupt him before getting in the car, you had also distracted your own brain from the stress while talking about some strategies for tomorrow with other engineers. When Isack was out of the car, you lingered not far away in the garage in order to find the best moment to come up to him. When he was done talking to Laurent, you jumped at the opportunity of having Isack alone. As he saw you, his smile brightened. You knew he would eventually throw another French sentence at you, but your current goal was to be the one to say it first. So as usual, you talked to him about the weekend and congratulated him on his good qualifying position. Then, as the moment felt right, you went for it:

“Tu sais que si tu étais le temps d’un verbe, tu serais le plus-que-parfait? (you know that if you were a verb tense, you’d be the plu perfect – to be literally translated as more than perfect)” You tried to put on your most innocent smile, as if you hadn’t played him at his own game. Your accent hadn’t been the best, but Pierre had assured you that your words were perfectly understandable and that it was even more charming.

“Quoi? (what)” Isack almost didn’t hear what you had said, not expecting at all for you to speak French. “Wait, what did you say?”

Thinking about what he had always done, you didn’t cave in and didn’t repeat yourself. You were about to continue the conversation in English as if nothing had happened, but fate had other plans.

Out of nowhere, Isack’s PR manager came up to the two of you. She gave you a smile and a nod, before taking Isack’s arm.

“Canal wants a word with you, Isack. You did great today, so they need to interview their country’s driver.”

“What?” Isack was half-listening, still hung up on your words. His manager motioned for him to follow her, which he mindlessly did. His gaze, however, was still on you as he walked towards the media pen. “We’ll talk later!” He exclaimed, almost out of hearing from the other side of the garage.

…..

You hadn’t talked later, not on that same day at least. After Isack had been pulled away from you for his interviews, you had been called by the senior engineers who wanted to share some information about the car with you. Therefore, you hadn’t seen Isack for the rest of the day.

It was now Sunday. The race would start soon, and you knew that you would be thinking about the situation for the next two hours, but you couldn’t go to Isack now and risk disrupting his focus. Your own concentration would have to stay still and not waver. The support Yuki and Pierre had given you yesterday had been helpful, after you had texted them a pretty self-explanatory message:

I think I fucked up lol

Their only replies had been to set a dinner time for the three of you to meet, and you had all spent the entire evening discussing the situation. They agreed that you hadn’t “fucked up”, as Isack hadn’t rejected you. You still had a chance, and it would wait until after the race to be proven true.

…..

The race had gone well for Isack and your friends. All finishing in points, you were proud of their performance. You knew your team would celebrate later tonight, having been asked to join. And you would have accepted, if not for the eye contact that you had exchanged with Isack when he got out of his car. His eyes were still filled with the same determination that fueled him during the race, but there was also another purpose hidden behind.

Like a silent conversation, you and Isack were agreeing without a word to talk later – actually talk later this time.

So after the car was dismantled; after Isack had done every interview he was asked to; after you exchanged about the race with the rest of the team and was finally ready to leave the paddock, you sent a quick text to Isack:

Meet me @ the main entrance, near the parking lot

Isack hadn’t replied, but you didn’t mind as he was walking towards you mere minutes later. You were glad that most people – as in the fans – had left, except for some team employees, as the area was quite empty. You hadn’t expected you and Isack to actually talk there, thinking that you would both go back together to the city, but he apparently had other plans.

“So, what was that yesterday? You’re fluent in French now?”

“Absolutely not”, you admitted. “I still have the knowledge of a toddler, but yesterday was courtesy of Pierre – whom you can also thank I think?”

“Touché”, Isack chuckled with a shrug. “Guess he’s been rooting for both of us, then.”

“Rooting for what, exactly?” You asked, feigning ignorance. Although you had been determined to make the first move this weekend, it hadn’t gone like you had originally planned and you were now more comfortable with letting Isack take the reins as he had been doing so for the past few months.

“For us to ask each other out”, he casually replied. “Or at least for me to do so.”

“And will you do that?” You were faking confidence; but deep down, you were internally giggling and blushing at the situation. This wasn’t everyday that your crush was asking you out, and you had to stay composed.

“If you can already tell me that you’ll accept, then yes I’ll pop the question.” This was Isack’s way to make sure that you were both on the same wavelength.

“If you were to pop the question that actually means getting married, I’d say it’s a tad too soon.” Isack blushed at your words, not realising he had planned your future a bit too far ahead, and scratched his head with a nervous laugh. “But a question regarding a first date? Yeah, I think I’ll say yes to that.”

“Okay, so dinner tonight? You and me?” He flashed you one of those smiles that you adored.

“Lead the way”, you said with a grin.

So Isack did. You thus both ended up at a restaurant not far away from the track, with a beautiful view of the city illuminated by the street lights under the night sky.

Dinner had been more than pleasant. The atmosphere had been friendly like it usually was between the two of you, but something else lingered. You hadn't yet confessed your respective feelings, but it was clear to each of you that the other was sharing the same thoughts.

You complimented Isack on his race, your smile softer than usual. He thanked you for the support you always offered him and the team. You both talked about your graduation that would happen soon, and you hinted at needing a date for the event. He gladly took up your offer, and told you how much he was proud of you for achieving your dream. You then also reminded him that he had been achieving his for so many years as well.

When you were done, Isack walked you back to your shared hotel – where most of the Racing Bulls employees were staying. You hadn’t seen how time flew by until you were in front of your room. Isack had been a floor below yours, but he had argued that he was a proper gentleman and that he should do things right when you mentioned him getting off the lift before you.

So here you were, both awkwardly standing in the corridor. This was the moment of truth: were you supposed to confess right now? Right before going to bed? Would he want to kiss you?

A strange newly-found confidence suddenly rose in you, and you thought of the one sentence that would seal the deal, without ruining the vibe.

“Wanna know something?” You first tried to catch his attention by using English, which worked as Isack looked at you before nodding. “Je viens de me rendre compte que tu ressembles beaucoup à mon futur copain (I just noticed, but you look a lot like my future boyfriend)”.

It took the driver a few seconds to process your words. But when he did, he began laughing and the smile on his face kept getting wider.

“Oh mon Dieu… (oh my God)” Isack put his face in his hands, as he tried and failed to hide how much he was blushing. “Did Pierre give you this one too?” You nodded with a proud smile and Isack couldn’t help but think that you looked really cute right now – more than usual. “Wait, you do mean copain as in boyfriend, right?”

“Is that not what it means?” You didn’t think you had mistaken the word, repeating exactly what Pierre had taught you.

“It does, yeah. But it’s like… slang, I guess?” Isack was unsure how to explain. “Not exactly slang, but usually we would say petit copain for boyfriend, and copain alone is actually just a friend.”

“So like, small friend?” You translated with a chuckle. “It’s quite fitting you, I guess.”

“That’s mean, you’re literally the same height as me!”

“I deeply apologise for my rudeness then, small boyfriend.”

“I didn’t say yes, though.” Isack played pretend, but deep down he was still flustered by you speaking French.

“Yet”, you pointed out. “But I didn’t actually ask a question.”

“Which I’m waiting for you to ask.”

“I like you Isack,” you said with honesty in your tone. “Like… really like you. So, hmm… veux-tu être mon petit copain? (do you want to be my boyfriend?)”

“Je vais pas dire non (how could i refuse).” When you looked at him in confusion, Isack realised that Pierre definitely hadn’t covered that in your French lessons. “I can’t say no to that, so… Yes, I absolutely want to be your boyfriend.”

Despite being in your early twenties, you could now proudly say that you finally had your first boyfriend. And what was even better was that he shared your love for racing. You couldn’t wait to see the look on Pierre’s and Yuki’s faces when you would tell them the news, but for now your focus would still be on Isack for a couple more minutes.

“We kinda have to go to sleep now,” you reluctantly reminded him. “Getting quite late and I don’t know about you, but I have an early flight tomorrow.”

“I actually think I do too. I’ll see you tomorrow before you leave?” Isack knew you had to go back to university until the next race.

“Yeah, of course!” You happily nodded. “We can have breakfast together,” you suggested.

“That’s perfect,” Isack confirmed. “So… good night, then?”

“Good night, Isack.” You gave him a smile and, thinking about how you would regret it if you didn’t do it, closed the space between you and the driver before you kissed his cheek. “Sleep well,” you added before entering your room.

Isack was now left alone in front of your door, unable to properly think or react to your action. His feet mindlessly walked him back to his own room, while he couldn’t help the giddy smile that appeared on his face. Once back in his room, Isack went to the bathroom to get ready for bed and that was when his eyes caught something in the mirror.

A faint trace of pink lipstick adorned his cheek, where you had kissed mere minutes before.

Isack smiled to himself, and he really hoped that tomorrow before you left, you would leave a lipstick mark on his lips.

..........

And that's it🤭 i really liked writing this one, and i hope you liked reading it!!

I was afraid of not doing isack justice so i hesitated a bit ab when i first started my draft, but the amount of vcarb tiktoks + what i had seen ab him during the 2024 f2 season helped a lot

Btw i miss isuki every single day so let's pretend that yuki is still in vcarb w isack for the rest of the season🤗 (there's no real timeline btw bc we're barely 3 races in so)

Also let's pretend ik shit ab engineering and how its degree works lol like that's absolutely not my area of study so i kinda winged it

Please tell me your thoughts in the comments, and don't be shy to like or reblog if you enjoyed this🤍🤍

See you soon, stay safe, have a happy life, love y'all xx