#campos racing

[httpiastri]

more than enough – jmm21

you hate your birthday, but pepe is determined to change your mind.

genre: fluff/a little angsty/comfort

pairing: reader x college!pepe marti, ft christian mansell and sebastian montoya

warnings: uhhh anxiety and such ?? idk

word count: 2.6k

author's note: just like last year, this is merely a very self-indulgent birthday gift to myself (and a bit of a late birthday gift for a friend on here who confided in me about not liking their birthday either), so sorry if you don't relate but i needed to write this for myself despite how painful it was. not happy with how it turned out but, i had to get it out of my system. <3 (also not proofread because i will freak out likely aaaaa)

this is mostly a standalone fic but ig it kinda works as college!pepe so i put that there. i got this idea at my mom's birthday back in march but never actually wrote it until this last week... also loosely based on a tiktok that really spoke to me.

also! this doesn't really work with the headcanon of pepe, seb and chris all sharing an apartment, but i wanted it this way. i also wasn't comfortable including gaby or hermes, so i used the names nora and emma for seb's and chris's respective gfs. :)

"why didn't you tell me your birthday is next week?"

the question is innocent enough, only borderline accusing, but something tightens in your stomach nonetheless. you don't look up from the pot in your hand, however, instead continuing to scrub it with your dishbrush like it's no big deal. "who told you that?"

pepe chuckles as he makes his way over to your side, leaning against the counter as he looks at you. "emma," he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest. "going to answer my question now?"

"i must've forgotten to tell you."

"oh, come on..." your boyfriend shakes his head. "is there a reason i wasn't allowed to know? did i do something? do you not trust me? am i-"

"pepe," you say, his name followed by a sigh as you look over to him in hopes of stopping his rambling. "it's nothing personal."

"what is it, then?" he presses, eyes following your hands as they begin to rinse the pot he'd cooked your pasta in just a couple hours ago. "why don't you want to tell me?"

you take a deep breath, shrugging your shoulders before turning off the tap. "i just... i'm not a big fan of my birthday."

the biggest understatement of the year.

you hate your birthday.

for a number of reasons, really. some to do with your family and childhood; many to do with your own inner thoughts and feelings.

you hate how it reminds you of every bad birthday you had as a kid. you hate how it makes you hopeful that people will remember and congratulate you, because you hate how painful it is when they don't. you hate how you always get reminded of how little people seem to care, and how they always prioritize themselves even on what's supposed to be your day.

it's too much of a mess to explain to him right now – maybe, hopefully, one day you'll have the energy and courage to go through it all.

you hadn't forgotten to tell pepe; you had just been silently hoping he wouldn't address it, and that everyone else would forget, too. but apparently, you have a snitch in your friend group. "what do you mean?" pepe asks.

"i'd much rather not celebrate it." you place the pot on the drying rack, wiping your hands on your towel hanging by the stove before turning to him. "a lot of stuff regarding my birthday just makes me really upset. if i could, i'd just... make it disappear, honestly."

your eyes flicker to the floor, fingers nervously fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. he can tell you don't want to get into it, and he won't push you. instead, he opens his arms wide, taking a step forward. you accept the offer instantly, arms wrapping around his waist as he pulls you close.

the air in your little dorm room isn't as thick as you had expected it to be when telling him all of this – but at the same time, you aren't surprised. pepe has always had a way of grounding you, making everything seem a bit easier. "i can't make it completely disappear, i think," he says, placing his chin on top of your head. "but i can pretend for you."

you hum contently, letting your eyes close for a few moments. "that would be great."

he remains quiet for a couple of seconds, but then he can't stop himself from talking again. "do you really not want anything? no party? you threw me that party for my birthday, i'd feel guilty not doing anything back."

"i did it because you had a fun time and you like those things, and because i enjoyed planning it. but i was really hoping i could skip all that," you answer, pulling away ever so slightly to look up at him with a sheepish expression. "i would honestly rather have dinner with you, emma, nora, sebas, chris... maybe get some takeout from that new indian place down the road?"

to pepe's ears, you sound more than just a tiny bit crazy – but your being so different from him is one of the things that attracted him in the first place. he nods, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "whatever you say, love."

"where did your girl go?" emma asks the second pepe slumps into a free seat by the cafeteria table.

your boyfriend shoots a glance over his shoulder back to the serving line before setting his plate down. "they were out of rice so she's just waiting for a new batch," he says with a shrug.

"okay then, let's be quick before she gets here," emma speaks up again. "what are we doing for her birthday? it's just a few days away, but i think we can pull something off."

"me and seb were talking about throwing her a surprise party," nora says, looking over at sebastian who's nodding excitedly.

pepe, however, lets out a dismissive sound and swats the air with his hand. "no, forget about that," he says, stuffing a spoonful of pasta into his mouth. "she doesn't want any of that."

nora snorts. "what? of course she does."

"you know, pepe," emma counters, eyebrows raised at the spaniard. "every girl will tell you that she doesn't want a surprise party. don't bother, i don't care, you don't have to do all that for me! but in reality, we're all secretly craving it."

pepe considers her words for a few moments; maybe there is some truth in them after all. maybe all you did was try to act modest, to put the idea in his head so he would make the right choice.

but you weren't the one to bring up the subject – he was. he remembers clearly how you were doing your very best to avoid talking about your birthday at all, and the memory of how tough of a subject it seemed like to you is still etched into his mind. he thinks you were so brave to confide in him like that, and so he needs to stand up for you. he can't dishonor your trust.

"trust me, guys. she really doesn't want it." he ignores the groans of the people around him, taking a few sips of his water before continuing. "can't we all just grab some dinner on saturday instead? maybe that new indian place?"

"works for me," christian joins in. "how about presents, then?"

"right, are we all buying something together, or separate gifts?" emma fills in.

pepe shakes his head yet again. "i don't think she wants that, either." his words are followed by a long silence, which makes him unable to hold back a chuckle. "just paying for the food should be enough."

nora sighs dramatically, the palms of her hands pressing into the sides of her face. "and i'm supposed to just trust you, huh?" she asks and pepe merely shrugs, focusing back on his food. "hope you're not messing with us here, marti."

"i have no idea what he said, but he usually is," your voice spreads through the group as you finally take a seat at the table. "fill me in and i'll help you decide if he's just being annoying."

"i was just telling them about what mr. peterson said yesterday," pepe says quickly. "about what he'll do to everyone who fails the exam."

you throw your head back laughing, nodding instantly. "oh my god, that was hilarious. so, it started with someone on the front row asking about..."

pepe loves birthdays. his own, too, but mostly he finds himself looking forward to his friends' birthdays and longing to celebrate the important people in his life. he loves picking out gifts, planning celebrations, and making sure everything is perfect. it just comes naturally for him to be caring and detailed in that way.

but while pepe eagerly awaits your birthday, you couldn't even come close to feeling the same way.

most years, you spend the weeks leading up to your birthday dreading it, and the day of your birthday crying, because your birthday reminds you of everything you try to forget year-round.

pepe wants to make the day perfect for you, but he also obviously doesn't want to do too much. it's a hard task, but he's set on making it work – and the first step is getting a cake.

his first thought was to get you something huge, something to properly convey what he thinks you deserve and how much he loves you. though, it didn't take long for him to realize that something like that would be way too much for you. instead, he settled on a more basic yellow cake with some kind of white coating that the lady in the bakery recommended to him, and dropped by the grocery store near campus to buy sprinkles and a bunch of candles.

the end product is a little messy, but created with so much love, and pepe knows you're going to adore it. what he doesn't know is how he managed to keep you away from his refrigerator and the surprise hiding in it all night yesterday, but it doesn't matter – all that matters is that you're currently still sleeping soundlessly in his bed, with no clue of what's going on over in the kitchen.

pepe's hands are trembling slightly as he lights up the candles; he is a little nervous, he will admit, but he's also excited at the same time. he can't wait to see the look of surprise on your face, so he hurries up and places the cake on a tray along with two cups of coffee.

he silently curses at the way his bedroom door creaks when he pushes it open with his foot, but thankfully you don't move a single muscle. he carefully scoots over to the side of the bed, sitting down next to you and balancing the tray in his lap. he reaches over with one hand to your cheek, thumb tracing along your skin, fingers settling under your jaw. "mi amor," he whispers, a soft hum leaving his lips as he watches your eyelids slowly flutter open. "happy birthday."

it takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the sunshine lighting up the room, but when they do, they can't help but focus on him. the goofy grin on his lips, the messy hair, the-

the cake on his lap.

you push yourself up to sit in bed, rubbing some sleep out of your eyes. you're mistaken, surely? you're still half-asleep, you must've imagined it...

but no amount of blinking makes the cake disappear. the little flames of the candles swaying in the air, the single drop of stearic rolling down the side of a candle, the rainbow sprinkles sticking to the top and sides of the cake – it's all very real.

pepe was so sure this was the right way to go. but seeing the tears begin to seep out of the corners of his eyes makes him horrified. he messed up.

he knew the sprinkles would be too much. and that amount of candles, what was he thinking? he definitely went overboard.

"oh my god," he says, instantly placing the tray on the bedside table before scooting closer to you. "i'm so so so sorry, i thought you would like it... i don't know what i was thinking. here, let me-"

you shake your head as he begins brushing away your tears with his thumbs, and to his big surprise, you chuckle. "don't be sorry," you say, letting out another laugh when you see the confused expression on his face. "i do like it. a lot." you reach up to take his hands in yours, bringing them down to the bed and intertwining your fingers. "it's just... very emotional, for me. as you can see."

he also chuckles now, and he thinks he understands – even though seeing your happy tears is more painful than he'd expected. "okay," he says with a nod. "so..." his eyes flicker back to the cake.

"yes, please. i mean, what could be better than a sugar rush first thing in the morning?"

pepe would've been so happy to shower you with presents to express how much he loves you; it would've made him so proud to invite all your friends to a big celebration, to show you how much you mean to all of them, to change your idea of a birthday. but this – sitting together in bed, eating straight from the cake (no plates needed), pressing sugary kisses to each other's cheeks – is another form of perfect.

he just hopes you think it's perfect, too.

hearing you tell the stories of how you needed to bake the cake for yourself if you wanted one as a child, how you always made sure to buy yourself a gift because the risk that no one else would get you one was too high, and how you always needed to plan out your own parties breaks his heart – but hearing you open up like that also means the world to him. he understands that it's all buried so deep inside of you, but there's nothing he wants more than to help you heal and to prove that you can have much better and bigger birthdays than that.

but for now, a little cake in bed and a ton of kisses will have to do.

baby steps.

"chris, will you pass me the chicken korma?"

he leans over the crowded couch table and holds out the takeaway box to nora, who takes it into her hands and thanks him. "that one is really good," you tell her through your mouthful of bread, nodding to your friend.

"what's the verdict, then?" sebastian asks from his seat over on the couch. "i need a rating from the birthday girl, one to ten."

"food? ten," you say, taking a sip of your soda. "company? ten."

birthday? eleven.

the whole day has been much better than you'd expected; from your wake-up this morning, to the lunch date you shared with pepe over in town after a cute walk along the river, to having your closest friends all gathered in your living room for you. you don't even mind the way your buttcheeks are already starting to hurt after sitting on the floor for too long – you knew you should've invested in more seating for moments like these – because all of this is worth it.

"agreed," pepe chimes in from next to you. "especially about the food."

"speaking of which," says emma. "was there any bread left?"

you're quick to jump to your feet, already turning towards the kitchen. "garlic or plain?"

"ooh, garlic! thank you!"

pepe hurries off the floor right after you, making up some excuse about getting a new spoon for one of the sauces, but no one even bats an eye. you hear him enter through the door, and you smile instinctively. "how are you feeling?" he asks when he reaches your side, hand finding the small of your back as you rummage through the takeaway bag. "is this all enough?"

"it's more than enough. so much more." after pulling out the garlic naan from the bag, you reach up to the side of his face with your free hand, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. "best birthday ever."

you seal your words with a feather-light kiss to his lips, and he's still smiling when you pull away. "you promise?" he asks, eyes searching through yours for any slightest hint of insincerity or uncertainty.

"i promise." another kiss, followed by a gentle hum, and he visibly relaxes. "thank you."

"no, thank you." for opening up, for letting him do all this for you. for existing. "only happy birthdays from now on, okay? i will make sure of it."

"it could never be anything other than a happy birthday with you around."

[planetpedri]

Something great 𖦹 Pepe Martí

Summary: Pepe thought making your first date special by going to an ice rink—something you loved to do, would be a great idea. The only problem was that he had no clue how to ice skate.

Word count: 1.28k

Disclaimer/s: fluff, reader is Christian Mansell’s sister so this is a brothers best friend type ^_^ hella banter and teasing

Bea speaks! THIS MAY BE IT. this may be my favorite plot.

The sharp winter wind that hit your face was unwelcome, but you accepted it. Why? Because you were on a date with the boy you’d had a crush on since you were young. Your brother’s best friend, which, Chris was not all that happy about.. but he accepted it. Pepe wouldn’t tell you, but the ice skating idea was partially Chris’s idea.

Nimbly tying your skates laces, you tilt your head to look at the tan boy. He was nervous, which you were as well, but he seemed nervous for something else.

“You okay?” You question, nudging his shoulder lightly.

Struggling to tie his laces, his hands shaking slightly, Pepe exhales lowly. “Yeah. Yeah.. How hard can this be? I mean, it’s basically just sliding, right? People slide all the time, I slide all the time.” His eyes flicker to the ice warily, trying to swallow back his nerves.

Grinning at him, you nod slowly. “Sliding.. Righttt.. Definitely, exactly what skating is.” Looking over his concerned expression, it dawns on you. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Letting out a nervous chuckle, he shrugs slightly. “Well, uh—no.. but,” he clears his throat and straighten up, “how hard can it be? I race going hundreds of kilometers an hour all the time. Balance, speed, same concept?”

Was be being serious?

A look of disbelief, mixed with amusement forms on your face. “Right. Sure. Because driving has so much in common with two things blades.”

Pepe’s eyes narrow into a mocking scowl. “You’re doubting my skills, is that it? I’m very offended, I brought you here to impress you, y’know? And you’re mocking me.” His gloved hand clutches his coat tightly, adding to his dramatics.

Rolling your eyes, you stand up and offer out your hand. “Oh, I have so much faith in you. I cannot wait to see your impressive skills. Just, don’t fall in the first five seconds and I’ll be very impressed!” Pepe laughs, accepting your hand.

Stepping onto the rink, you begin to skate to the side, letting go of his hand for a split second. When Pepe got onto the ice, he was instantly wobbling, his arms waving about frantically. You couldn’t help but giggle as you skated back to his side and his arm instantly gripped onto your coat.

If his face wasn’t already flushed from the bitter cold, it was definitely flushed now. “Okay. Definitely harder than I imagined.” He huffs out breathlessly.

Shrugging, you place your hand over his. Even through the soft gloves he wore, Pepe’s skin was still heating up at your gentle touch. “Come on speedy. You’ve got this.” You whisper encouragingly, your lips curling upwards—barely holding back a laugh.

“So—“ You almost let go of him, but Pepe’s eyes shoot wide in panic.

His grip tightens on your arm, his other hand clasping over yours. “Wait! Wait! Don’t let go.. not yet. I’m just.. I need to collect my bearings.”

Your eyebrow lifts doubtfully. “You’re gripping my arm like your life depends on it.. seems like you need to gather a little more than just your bearings.”

Slowly moving alongside the edge of the barrier, Pepe glances at you with a sheepish grin. “Uh, because it does? One wrong move and im falling and landing on these skates and well—“

“Okay. That’s… dark.” You laugh lightly, “just relax, bend your knees a little and keep your weight forward, and—“

Before you could finished, Pepe tries to glide forward and stumbles. A soft gasp leaves your lips as you pull him back, stabilizing the both of you.

“Alright, maybe just stick to standing for now.”

Pepe was definitely blushing. This was supposed to be a cute, fun date but, instead he was making a fool of himself. “I’m actually really skilled at this, I’m just holding back for your sake. Don’t want to embarrass you and all that stuff.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

You laugh, shaking your head. “So generous of you, Pep.” The nickname slides off your tongue so easily, you don’t even catch it. Pepe does though, and his stomach flips.

“Come on, I’ll show you.” You smile, nodding towards the barrier, “just keep your hand by that.”

Moving behind him, gently holding his forearms arms to guide him, Pepe slowly skates forward. He was wobbly at first, but eventually got the hang of it, his confidence growing more and more with every inch.

Excitement flashes in his eyes, “hey! Look! I’m doing it! I’m—“

Pepe trips over his own feet, his skates butting into the ice. His hand goes to grab you for balance, but the momentum just pulls them down. Your heart drops the second you feel your balance shift forward.

Landing with a soft thump, you burst into laughter. The loud, unapologetic laughter only makes Pepe groan in embarrassment.

Letting go of you, his hands come up to cover his face. The sight was endearing to you, finding it quite adorable. “Oh God.” He grumbles, “this is it. This is the moment you tell your brother why you never want to see me again.”

Still giggling, your eyes soften as you look down at him. “Are you kidding? This is the highlight of my year—of well, anything ever.” You pause, wondering if some teasing would be appropriate for his embarrassed state.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush this much.”

Moving this fingers to peek at her, “this is not the way I pictured our first date going. This is a mess.”

Smiling adoringly at him, you shake your head in disagreement. “I think it’s perfect.”

Shifting one hand to hold yourself table against the cold ice, you brush a stray strand out of your face. You falter, the both of you realizing just how close you are.

Pepe’s breath hitches in his throat when your head dips only an inch towards him. The tension flowing between you could be cut with a knife. A heated, palpable, tension that had Pepe’s eyes flickering around your face, falling to your lips and back up to your eyes with a nervous, but hopeful look.

Without skipping a beat, Pepe leans up just enough for his lips to hover over hers, his eyes still watching you carefully. When your eyes begin to flutter shut, Pepe takes that as his sign and he closes the short distance.

Your lips move in sink. It’s slow and soft and full of a million different emotions. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest. Despite the freezing outdoor weather, you felt warm. Your lips on fire as they moved against Pepe’s.

When you both finally separate, Pepe’s head falls back against the ice lightly. His face is somehow redder, but you just grin widely.

“Are you going to blame that on the ice, too?” You tease, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Pepe chuckles, your words only worsening his flustered state. “No.” He smiles, eyes disappearing behind his squint. “That one I definitely meant to do.”

Humming, your head tilts to the side as you smirk. “Good. Because, that—that was definitely my favorite part of the date.”

Both of you fall into a short laughter before you roll off of him. Pepe tries to stand and help you up, but stumbles again. Luckily, your reflexes kicked in and you catch him before you two fall again.

Grinning sheepishly, Pepe rubs the back of his neck. “Okay, new goal: stay upright for one whole minute.”

Your eyes widen dramatically, as if he’d said something outrageous. “Baby steps, Pepe. Baby steps..”

The boys eyes roll. “Funny.” He takes your hand in his, squeezing it once. “I definitely got it now.”

“We’ll see about that…”

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pepe posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @spidybaby @n0vazsq @sakashq @h4vertzz @joaoflms

[dedeinthewild]

Omd please if you could do a story where arvids girl is teasing him abt being more boyfriendy with pepe bcos they're in the 'honeymoon" phase and she gets jealous

soo, I'm really sorry 'cause it isn't exactly what you requested but I had an idea with Pepe and I wrote it down. Let me know if you like it anyways, or I will make one just like you wanted it!

pepe martí x reader, established relationship

~ "that's a terrible one"

Pepe was determined, kind, and so intelligent that he could make anyone smile just by meeting him.

But above all, he was dedicated.

He was deeply grateful for his journey in motorsport and always trusted the Red Bull driver academy and his team, despite the terrible luck that had made his season challenging.

With the two-month break from Formula 2, and his girlfriend busy with school, lessons, and studying, he had plenty of time to reconnect with the junior categories and work alongside the academy’s new entries.

Among them was the incredible Formula 3 rookie, Arvid Lindblad, who had left everyone in awe and was set to join Campos in the 2025 season.

In the preceding weeks, the Spaniard had traveled to Barcelona to watch the Eurocup3 and Spanish Formula 4 race weekends, reconnecting with his roots. Then, at the team’s request, he and Arvid attended the final MotoGP race, surprising everyone with their instant chemistry before even racing together.

On one side was the tall, polite, composed Spaniard who listened and responded with a smile. On the other was the whirlwind of words that was the British rookie, dressed in oversized trendy outfits, bringing a fresh vibe to Campos.

They had spent a lot of time together, laughing and creating content around the circuit, perfectly delivering what the team wanted while giving fans exactly what they loved.

A week later, Gaby and Christian had decided to organize a weekend in London with Pepe and his girlfriend.

“He’s got Arvid now; he won’t even look at me” his girlfriend joked to the British woman walking beside her, loud enough for Pepe to hear from ahead where he was walking with Christian.

“Sorry?” the Spaniard turned around, hands buried deep in the pockets of his blue jacket.

“I said you don’t even look at me anymore. You’ve got Arvid now.”

“He’s been cheating on me, and you didn’t care to tell me?” Christian chimed in, clutching his chest dramatically as they strolled through St. James’ Park.

Everyone burst out laughing while Pepe’s girlfriend tucked her hands into her scarf, hiding her nose and cheeks, which were slowly turning red from the cold.

“I’m sorry for cheating; Gaby will treat you right” Pepe teased Christian, pretending to steal his girlfriend while Christian clung to his own.

Pepe’s girlfriend, a petite five-foot-something figure walking beside him, smiled. Her hair was tucked into her scarf, and she breathed in the air of a London she loved.“Are you cold?” Pepe asked, taking her hand and slipping it into the pocket of his Red Bull jacket, his thumb stroking her knuckles.

“I’m always cold, Pepe” she replied, knowing full well that her constant chilliness was something he always took care of.

Pepe and Christian had a strong bond, and seeing them together was a joy. So, when the F3 driver invited them for the weekend, they had packed their bags immediately. Spending time with Christian and Gaby also brought the two women closer, as they, like their boyfriends, perfectly complemented each other, creating a fun and close-knit group.

They loved teasing and joking with each other, and this was the perfect moment to poke fun at Pepe. His girlfriend seized the opportunity without hesitation.

“And what do you mean about Arvid?” Pepe asked, glancing down at her as they walked along the little path that ducks shared with their ducklings.

“He’s all you’ve been thinking about for the past month. Don’t even get me started on those videos.”

Pepe chuckled, raising his eyebrows as if to ask if she was serious. She, however, maintained an honest expression.

“Are you saying that for real?”

“I mean, you’re really boyfriendy with him.”

“And I guess you’re implying that I’m not with you.”

Her head tilted back slightly, the wind brushing her cheeks as she gave him a playful smile. She was joking, and both of them knew it, but they were curious to see how far it would go.

“I mean, you spend a lot of time with him and look at him as if he were the love of your life.”

“And what should I say about you and Gaby?” he retorted, grinning. “You’re always going on your dates; I think she’s a pinned chat on your phone, and—”

She couldn’t help but laugh as Christian and Gaby lined up at a café while she and Pepe stopped, standing face-to-face.

This spot was one of her favorites in London, where she loved walking with a hot chocolate in hand, headphones in, and music blasting.

“I should remind you that it’s only because you’re in your honeymoon phase with Arvid. You’ll see the bad sides later.”

Pepe took her other hand, slipping it into his jacket pocket to warm it with his, moving closer with that sweet look he always wore.

“I have to say, it’s a great honeymoon nonetheless.”

She bit her cheek to keep a straight face, though her playful expression was giving her away.

“And what do you mean by bad sides?” he asked, curious. “Are there bad sides to being with me?”

“Many, many for sure.”

Pepe leaned down slightly, wrapping her completely in his arms and burying her face in his blue Red Bull jacket.

“List them, then,” he teased.

“You’re too nice, and everyone loves you.”

She placed her hands on his shoulders, hugging him back, as Christian and Gaby returned with steaming cups of tea.

“That’s a terrible one" joked the Campos driver, kissing her forehead before handing her the cup Christian had given him.

As they strolled down The Mall, the four chatted, surrounded by a slightly windy but not too damp London, kissed by timid sunshine.

The scent of falling leaves mixed with the sweetness of candied almonds from nearby stands, while some passersby asked for directions, and others watched them laugh and enjoy their time together.

“Pepe and I decided something” his girlfriend suddenly announced, grabbing the attention of Christian and Gaby while Pepe played along.

“We’re splitting up but staying good friends,” she said seriously.

At that moment, the world seemed to crumble for the Australian and the Brit, whose jaws dropped as they stared at Pepe to figure out if it was a joke or the truth.

“We realized we have some differences that the other doesn’t enjoy, unlike with other people, so it’s better this way.”

“What do you mean?” Christian asked, his eyes wide in shock.

“We’ve had some flings” she replied casually.

Gaby, convinced that if those two broke up, she’d never believe in love again, couldn’t process it. Pepe and his girlfriend were the perfect match—two people who effortlessly connected in ways she’d never seen before.

“No, you haven’t” Gaby declared, shaking her head.

Pepe and his girlfriend smiled, struggling to keep the joke going, even though their friends’ sad, confused faces made them feel a bit guilty.

“With who?” Christian asked, earning a gentle smack on the hand from Gaby, who thought it wasn’t the time for such questions.

“Your girlfriend” they replied in unison.

The Australian furrowed his brow, confused.

“Both of you? Pepe?” He was at a loss for words.

“No, stop this nonsense; it’s not funny” he said, visibly upset.

At that moment, Pepe and his girlfriend burst into laughter, exchanging looks as if they had just pulled off the joke of the decade while walking ahead of the group.

“You assholes!” Christian exclaimed, exasperated.

“You actually believed it?” Gaby asked, holding onto Christian’s arm, relieved to see them laugh it off.

“As if you didn’t” Pepe retorted.

That evening, after a lovely dinner at a restaurant near Chinatown, they all headed back to their hotel, trying to teach Pepe how to navigate the Tube using a rule his girlfriend had devised.

“If you miss a train or anything, just get off at the first stop and wait there. We’ll come find you.”

“I’m not a child,” the Spaniard protested, sitting on one of the Piccadilly Line trains with his arms crossed, playfully nudging his girlfriend’s feet as she studied the map.

“I’m quite positive you are” she replied with a smile, focused on the intricate map, unaware that Pepe had taken out his phone and snapped a picture of her.

Later, once they were in their room, changed into their pajamas, and cuddled in bed watching a movie, Pepe sent her the photo.

As she opened the message, he began to speak.

“Honeymoon or not, you’re the only thing about me without bad sides” he said.

She smiled, her eyes soft and warm.

“And I love you like I love yapping about nerdy facts.”

“I think that’s the most thoughtful way you’ve told me you love me.”

Pepe leaned his head back against his hands.

“Still, maybe you’re right. I’m rather boyfriendy with Arvid.”

“Be careful, I’m a little jealous of you,” she said, giving him a quick kiss where his ear met his jawline.

“You said it—everyone loves me,” he joked, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer, breathing in her scent and feeling as though, even fifty years from now, they would still be just like this.

Because, as Gaby thought, if those two ever broke up, no one would believe in love anymore.

Beyond all the jokes and teasing, Pepe and that girl had found each other through some stroke of fate, and they were never meant to let each other go.

~ not proofread or anything so there might be a few errors, I hope you all like it 🍀

(please find me a pepe, thanks)

[turn3tifosi]

VII. andante, andante

pepe marti x classmate!reader

a highschool crush turns into a slow and steady relationship

series masterlist | main masterlist

It all began with your friends’ relentless teasing during lunch break. You were laughing, completely oblivious to the underlying reason for their constant jibes and hints.

“Honestly, how can you not see it?” your best friend Mia said, exasperation lacing her tone.

“See what?” you replied, genuinely puzzled.

“Pepe Marti! He’s totally into you. He’s always watching you in class,” Mia declared, her voice lowering conspiratorially.

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. Pepe was a famous guy in your school. While you guys were spending hours in classrooms learning history and algebra, he was out racing in different countries, and he was doing pretty well. You’d always admired him from afar but never considered the possibility that he might notice you, let alone like you.

“No way,” you said, shaking your head. “He’s got so much going on with his racing. Why would he be interested in me?”

But the seed had been planted. You couldn’t help but replay moments in your mind—Pepe’s lingering gazes, the shy smiles he directed your way. Maybe your friends were right.

Days passed, and the idea that Pepe liked you began to feel less absurd. You started noticing him more, catching his eyes in class, and each time, he’d look away, cheeks slightly flushed. 

One day, after an extremely boring English lesson, you found yourself alone, gathering your books slowly. You glanced up and saw Pepe standing by the door, seemingly hesitant.

“Hey,” he said, his hands playing with the strap of his backpack.

“Hi!,” you replied, almost too quickly for your liking.

He stepped into the classroom. “Can we talk?”

“Sure!,” you were in no actual mood to talk with anyone, but you were curious about what Pepe wanted to say.

Pepe took a deep breath, and for a moment, he thought about just running away, too scared of your rejection. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while now,” he began, his voice gentle. “I like you. A lot. I know it might sound crazy because we don’t get to spend much time together, but it’s the truth.”

You stood there, stunned into silence. Pepe’s face fell, interpreting your lack of response as rejection. He turned to leave, but before he could take another step, you rushed forward and grabbed his arm.

“Wait,” you said, your voice trembling. “I like you too, Pepe. I really do. But…can we take things slow? I don’t want to rush into anything and risk losing you.”

Relief washed over his features, and he smiled, the kind of smile that lit up his entire face, and yours in return. “Of course. I’d love that.”

From that moment on, your relationship blossomed slowly but beautifully. You’d steal moments between classes, share quiet conversations, and text each other late into the night. Pepe’s racing schedule was demanding, but he always made time for you, even if it was just a brief call from a different time zone.

One evening, as you sat together on a bench in the park, you found yourself lost in his eyes.

“There’s a shimmer in your eyes,” you murmured, as he looked at you curiously. “Like the feeling of a thousand butterflies.”

Pepe smiled and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You make everything feel like that,” he whispered.

Despite the growing closeness, a part of you remained fearful. What if the demands of his career pulled him away from you? What if the whirlwind of his racing world left no room for your quiet moments?

“Please, let’s take it slowly,” you’d often say, your voice betraying your insecurities.

Pepe would always hold you close, his embrace reassuring. “We will. I’m not going anywhere,” he’d promise.

Your relationship became a delicate dance, balancing the excitement of new love with the caution of taking things step by step. Pepe continued with his racing career, and you got into university, majoring in mechanical engineering.

And in the moments after the race, when he’d return to you, exhausted but elated, you’d see it in his eyes—the same shimmer, the same butterflies. He was yours, and you were his, moving forward together, one gentle step at a time.

[delusionalgirlswatchf1]

“I think I like you best when you’re just with me and no one else.”[Pepe Marti x reader]

Being a college student and having an internship in f2 was not affecting Y/N well lately. She always valudated academic achievement. And she always loved formula 1. She really wanted to get a job in it,so she really cared about her internship. Her life in last months were totally catastrophic,she didnt even remember when she got some free time to herself. Even though she was frustrated from all of this mess,she never complained. Probably because of a certain someone that her eyes would always look for him first in a room.

Pepe.

She immediately smiled just by thinking about him.

He always took care of her in a way no one did before. The first person to help her in every way thats possible,the first person to make her feel welcomed.

Pepe.

Sometimes she would think he may be feeling the same thing as her. But then,she would blink her eyes to see the reality. A whole paperwork for the Manager and a long school work.

She shaked her head to make this thoughts go away. She felt a jacket on her shoulders and turned to see who was putting it on her.

Pepe.

“Are you trying to get sick? It’s freezing!”

He said with his warm smile.

Ah.Yes.

That smile.

Y/N wanted to say to him that she would never feel cold when his smile was so warm like this.

“You ran away from the team again? It’s becoming a bad habit of yours,Marti.”

“I couldn’t help it,they were being dramatic. Plus,I wanted to see you.”

Y/N smiled slightly. Was he really thinking like that?

“You always see me,dummy.”

Pepe shrugged and got closer to her.

“Yes but with bunch of other people. I think I like you best when you’re just with me and no one else.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. She forced a chuckle.

“You are only saying that to mess with me.”

“Nope,I’m dead serious. I like your company,Y/N.”

Y/N blushed as she noticed how Pepe was looking at her. His intense and determined eyes were on her,with a look she only saw him doing on the races.

“I like your company as well.”

“As much as I like yours?”

“Yeah. Probably more.”

“Pfft. That’s impossible.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and chuckled with him. Pepe checked out to make sure the jacket was standing still. Y/N then realized that it was his usual jacket and it smelled exactly like him. Was Pepe trying to kill her today?

“Thank you for the jacket by the way. Thats uh really nice of you.”

Pepe laughed.

“Stop being formal to me,we already passed that part months ago.”

“I know,I know. Just a habit.”

Pepe reached out to hold her hand. Y/N’s eyes immediately got locked into his.

“You know,I was thinking of taking you on a date. What would you say to that?”

Y/N was screaming inside as she was still trying to understand what was going on.

“I-uh as a real date?”

“I didn’t say fake did I?”

“And-And not a friendly date?”

“Who the hell goes on a friendly date? I want to be with you,Y/N. Go on a date with me,please?”

Y/N took a deep breath and ignored the way her heart was being.

“I-I will go on a date with you.”

Pepe smiled so bright that Y/N thought it was sun for a second.

[panevanbuckley]

stop this is my new favourite f2 red flag 😭

[jasontoddsjuicythighs]

being a prema, campos and paul fan this weekend:

[hadjarwdc]

some of my fav pepe & isack memes I’ve made 😋 (lmk if you want more f2 driver memes)

making these to get me through until barcelona

[sports-talk]

PEPE MARTI WINS THE ABU DHABI SPRINT RACE!!!! GET IN THERE!!! 🥹

[littlemaxv]

So good to see him so high on the podium after a super tough year for him

[jack-doohan]

CHLOE CHAMBERS on the podium after Race 1 of the 2024 F1 Academy Miami Grand Prix

[httpiastri]

sorry i had to

[romantic-stylezz]

Delayed start

2 safety cars

Paul aron first win

Gabi bortoleto first on the road trying to get a 5 sec gap on the last lap so that he finishes in front of isaak hadjar and missing it because his teammate wouldn't let him through

Going into the final round with gabi half a point ahead

And all 4 rookies for this race scoring points??

[dedeinthewild]

PEPE WON THE SPRINT RACE OMG proud gf right here lmao jk (i’m not) can you do an imagine where they celebrate his win and it’s just so cute and there’s tears and all and he dedicate his win to the reader.

It's always so beautiful to see a first win, and Pepe's one was really something. I totally get you on the proud gf part 'cause I felt it in Quatar with Paul's amazing weekend (jk as well lol)💫

I swear I'll work on the other requests but I couldn't let this one sit :)

pepe martí x reader, established relationship

~ “That’s P1! You’re an F2 race winner!”

A flawless start.

A flawless race.

A flawless end to a season that had been anything but generous to the Spanish driver wearing number twenty-one. A season mired in crashes, gravel traps, and botched strategies.

For so long, he had watched his teammate dominate, triumphing over a grid of twenty drivers, all chasing the same dream. And now, under the fading light of Abu Dhabi—a circuit that looked upon him like a loving mother—he was about to take his first step toward that very dream.

He was defying the expectations of those who didn’t know him.

Defying the machine that had dragged him to yellow flags and the back of the pack.

And defying his own hands, which he had often blamed for his failures, as they gripped the wheel that now guided him through the curves of the circuit.

Because, for the first time from start to finish, no one had anything to say about him. No critiques. At the green flag, he’d pulled off a textbook overtake on the first two cars. Lap after lap, he had continued to hold his ground, even as titans clashed behind him in the battle for the championship.

Because he wanted to stand on that podium step, to hear his anthem play, to hear his name echo through the circuit as the sun set behind the grandstands for the season’s final race.

Joseph Maria Martí.

That enormous smile that lit up the entire paddock, the hands that whispered to the car even when it didn’t seem to understand, and the fun facts he memorized late at night just to keep the briefing rooms alive. That boy, only nineteen years old, was about to claim a victory that didn’t matter for points, rankings, or team standings.

But for him, it meant everything. It was his way of climbing back to the top.

“Last lap, Bortoleto two seconds behind,” his race engineer informed him, eyes fixed on the telemetry, waiting impatiently for Pepe to be declared the winner.

Two seconds.

They could have been two tenths, hundredths, or mere thousandths.

But it wouldn’t have mattered. Pepe would’ve claimed this track as his either way.

Because waiting for him, just beyond the finish line, were three people:

His mother, the most important person in his life, his other half, and the child version of himself—the one he’d promised to bring to the highest step of the podium.

“That’s P1! You’re an F2 race winner!” the team radio crackled, and Pepe felt his chest swell with a joy he had rarely known.

One of those feelings so profound, so overwhelming, that it made him feel like he could fly.

He screamed, letting go of all restraint, throwing his head back inside the helmet as he focused on completing his cool-down lap at Yas Marina.

His Yas Marina.

Behind him, three championship contenders had fought tooth and nail for every last point.

And maybe what made his victory even sweeter was the fact that he hadn’t carried the weight of their pressure on his shoulders.

Only wings—the wings that had allowed him to soar.

On the main straight, team media staff and families had already gathered behind the barriers, waiting for the cars to return.

And there was no better feeling than parking behind the marker labeled with a bold “1.”

“Woah, woohoo!” he shouted again, throwing his arms toward the sky as dusk descended. He closed his eyes for a second, savoring the enormity of the moment.

Him, his passion, his talent—towering over everything.

Jumping out of the car, he saw Gabriel and Paul already embraced by their families and trainers while photographers turned their lenses toward him.

He raised his index finger to display a “1,” a number that, today, belonged solely to him.

Then, his gaze landed on two familiar figures.

One, with long blonde hair and a radiant smile—his mother, her pride shining through as she stood next to Paul, who was chatting with someone nearby.

And the other, with carefully styled hair and soft features—the woman he loved, who probably felt the same exhilaration in her chest that he felt whenever he looked at her.

He ran toward them, wrapping his arms tightly around the women in his life, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath to keep his emotions in check.

“Mi bebé,” whispered the stunning señora Martí, patting the blue helmet of her son before stepping aside to let his girlfriend have her moment.

Her hands trembled slightly, and if it hadn’t been for the cameras, she might’ve shed a tear or two. She was so proud she couldn’t find the words to express it. All she wanted was for Pepe to climb that podium and lift the trophy high above his head.

“It was about time,” he said, lifting his visor to reveal the dark eyes she loved so much.

“That I won in front of you.”

She smiled, pulling him into another embrace, letting herself be enveloped by the tall, lean frame of the Campos driver. He rested his head gently against hers.

Minutes later, as they stood under the podium, she watched him step onto the highest tier and accept the trophy beneath the Spanish flag.

Beside her was Isabella, Gabriel’s other half and reigning Formula 3 champion, equally emotional as she struggled to hold her phone steady for a photo.

“It’s comforting to see someone as emotional as me,” she joked to the Brazilian, while señora Martí recorded a video of her son’s celebration.

“I could never get used to this,” the blonde replied, dabbing a tear from her cheek, her exquisite features glowing with emotion.

They both looked up.

And Pepe was smiling. Smiling so much his cheeks must have hurt. He knew, somewhere in the crowd, there was a familiar blue shirt and the most beautiful pair of reading glasses.

His victory off the track.

He never would’ve imagined that, beyond his family, someone could be so proud of him. Someone who would wait for him at the barrier, their heart full.

But she had been there—even on the days when he came home feeling unworthy of his team, the junior program, and the category that had once believed in him.

“I love you,” she mouthed before he could pop the champagne alongside the other two drivers.

And after the celebration and the traditional photos, he leaned against the podium railing, drunk on happiness, with the trophy in one hand and the champagne bottle in the other.

“I love you too,” he replied, pressing the trophy hand to his heart before dashing down the steps to rejoin his team—the team that had never stopped believing Pepe was the right gamble.

Later, as he walked through the F2 paddock flanked by the two women in his life, his mother exclaimed, “You won!” making him laugh as he imagined her group chats, likely brimming with photos of his triumph.

He ruffled her hair affectionately, then glanced at his girlfriend, who was reading the inscription on the trophy he’d handed her earlier.

“Yas Marina Circuit, FIA F2 World Championship, Sprint Race Winner.”

She raised her proud, joyful eyes to meet his.

“The way you’re smiling says it all,” she said, weighing the trophy in her hands while observing just how happy he was.

“How do you always say it?” Her smile widened into a grin.

“Everybody knows who Pepe is.”

He chuckled, cupping her cheek to stroke the skin lightly flushed from the sun as night began to consume Abu Dhabi.

“But only you know the Pepe who won that race,” he replied in his deep voice.

He was talking about the child standing behind the barrier, the boy who never lost hope, and the young man who had pushed to the very end, unseen but always leading.

“Because the only person who could cry under that podium was you.”

She— The one who had stood by him beyond his family.

The one who, in such a short time, had become his compass, guiding him home no matter how far Barcelona might be.

“You managed to get me here.”

“Your talent did.”

“But what would talent mean if I had no one to win for?”

He ran his driver’s hand through her hair, never breaking eye contact.

“This was our win, yours as much as mine,” he said.

“I finally got to the top step, but you’ve shown me what it means to have someone who loves unconditionally by my side.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead before wrapping his arms around her one last time.

No helmet now.

With his face and heart laid bare.

Knowing they would never let each other go.

- not proofread or anything, so there might be a few errors💫

(I really like this one, that makes up for the mediocre last ones lol)

[turn3tifosi]

how abt a pepe college fanfic >< like u developing romantic feelings for e/o while doing a project by pair together hehe love ur works!!!

did i fall in love (with my partner)??

college!pepe marti x project partner!reader

masterlist

You had heard a lot about Pepe before you met him. Whispers of his kindness and undeniable charm circulated through the campus, but nothing could have prepared you for the reality. The first time you saw him, standing by the entrance of the library, his thick, dark hair catching the light just so, you understood immediately why everyone seemed so in love with him.

The professor’s voice echoes in your mind as you walk towards him, repeating the instructions for your paired project. It’s a critical part of your grade, and your stomach is a jumble of nerves. As you approach, Pepe looks up and smiles, a genuine, warm expression that seems to light up his entire face.

“Hey, you must be my partner,” he says, extending his hand. His grip is firm but gentle, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. “I’m Pepe.”

“Yeah, I’m… uh, I’m really looking forward to working with you,” you manage to say, hoping you don’t sound as flustered as you feel.

As you and Pepe sat across from each other in the library, laptops open and textbooks scattered, the air was charged with a mix of tension and focus. You'd been paired together for this semester-long project in your college literature class, and while you initially thought it would be a breeze, you hadn't anticipated how distracting Pepe's smile could be.

"So, what's the plan for tackling this?" you asked, trying to keep your tone professional, despite the warmth that spread through you whenever Pepe looked your way.

He leaned in slightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he explained his ideas. Pepe was more than just good-looking; he was genuinely passionate about the subject matter, and his enthusiasm was infectious. You found yourself drawn to his insights and the thoughtful way he articulated his points.

As the weeks went by, you spent more time together, discussing literature, debating interpretations, and slowly unraveling layers of each other's personalities. Pepe was surprisingly witty, matching your sass with a playful banter that kept you on your toes. It was refreshing to find someone who could challenge you intellectually while also making you laugh.

One evening, while proofreading each other's sections of the project, you glanced up to find Pepe watching you intently. "What?" you asked, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

He smiled softly, shaking his head. "Nothing. Just realizing how well we work together."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get all sentimental on me now."

Pepe chuckled, his gaze lingering a moment longer before returning to his laptop. "Seriously though, thanks for being an awesome partner."

The words hung in the air, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of something unfamiliar in your chest. Maybe it was the late nights spent arguing over thesis statements or the way he always seemed to know when you needed a coffee break, but you were starting to realize that your feelings for Pepe were more than just admiration for his intellect and charm.

As the semester progressed, so did your feelings for Pepe. What started as admiration for his intellect and charm blossomed into something deeper. You found yourself eagerly anticipating your study sessions together, relishing every moment of shared laughter and intellectual debate.

One rainy afternoon, you found yourselves holed up in the campus café, seeking refuge from the downpour outside. Pepe was animatedly explaining a complex literary theory, his eyes alight with passion. You listened intently, captivated not just by his words but by the earnestness with which he spoke.

"You know," he said suddenly, looking at you with a hint of uncertainty in his gaze, "I've really enjoyed working on this project with you. It's been... surprisingly fun."

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "Yeah, who knew analyzing obscure texts could be this entertaining?"

Pepe chuckled, his smile lighting up his face. "It's not just the texts. It's... well, it's you. You make it fun."

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, the noise of the café seemed to fade into the background. There was something in Pepe's tone, something that hinted at wanting something more than what you two had currently. Could it be that he felt the same way?

Before you could muster a response, a notification chimed on your phone, ruining the moment. It was a reminder about an upcoming event on campus—an open mic night. You glanced at Pepe, an idea forming in your mind.

"Hey, there's an open mic night happening this Friday," you said casually, trying to keep your voice steady despite the sudden surge of nerves. "Would you... maybe want to go together?"

Pepe's eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features before a slow smile spread across his face. "Yeah, I'd like that," he replied softly. "I'd really like that."

And just like that, amidst the clatter of coffee cups and the hum of voices around you, something shifted. The project that brought you together had become the catalyst for your potential romantic relationship.

As the weeks passed, your bond with Pepe grew stronger. You discovered shared interests beyond academia, from music tastes to favorite hiking spots. Each moment spent together felt effortless, as if you had known each other far longer than just a semester.

On the night of the open mic event, you found yourselves seated in the front row, fingers intertwined as you watched students take the stage one by one. When it was your turn to perform—a poem you had written during one of your late-night study breaks—Pepe's loud cheers from the audience kept a wide smile on your face.

Afterward, as you walked back to campus under a sky speckled with stars, Pepe stopped suddenly, turning to face you.

"I'm really glad we met," he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity that made your heart swell.

"Me too," you replied softly, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from his face. 

And as you stood there, under the gentle glow of campus streetlights, you knew that with Pepe by your side, the chapters of your own story were just beginning. And you couldn’t wait to read them.

Author's note: ty sm for the request!! i was actually thinking about college pepe and he just seems like the guy who would study literature (as one of his minor subjects) and talk about it all the time , because i read @httpiastri's college!pepe au's and so pepe's forever going to be a STEM guy in my head.