heyyyyy as the monarch of the toprak bulega ship could you please give us some reccomendations for their pairing on ao3 :3
Monarch SINCE WHEN??? Haha, I'm flattered but I think there's OGs out there, yk?
the tag is not exactly extensive, but there's so much good stuff! my personal favourites are probably Carpaccio by hsphinx, maybe love can bloom in most by DropPopSoda and also now the recent addition of if I just tell you? by texasred that was on Tumblr before. as well as my oomf's internship-induced fic! my top re-read list lol
Hello! Just wanted to ask if there was any particular reason why your 5411 fic was titled 'Carpaccio'? Or was this just random?
It's been on my mind since I first saw it lol
-vetil
Not randommm hehe
The whole fic was inspired by Something . Hear me out.
once i was abroad and went with my partner in a little speakeasy, tucked in a grand hotel foyer. The place was SMALL small and we sat down in a dim lit table, trying to hear ourselves as a group beside us ordered expresso martini after expresso martini. Anyways. when the waiter came, i asked him if he had any suggestions on the menu. he promptly replied: our carpaccio wagyu is very famous. carpaccio wagyu it is then.
GOD. When i say that dish were life changing.
think of FAT RAW BUTTERY MEAT dissolving in your mouth. Really dissolving like, coming to pieces w just SALIVA. No spice to season it, just a pinch of salt and a small dash of olive oil.
The idea of tender flesh giving in… with little to no resistance…. I mean, bubi’s resolves also dissolved the moment toprak entered his motorhome. He’s just stubborn to admit it.
Also: finding a gem in a boisterous, noisy place, when u weren’t excpecting it - like them both on the paddock. Also: tasting someting once and ending up being obsessed 4 life.
Also: ordered other carpaccios in cooler/fancier places after that but no one could compare.
It's amazing. For the first time, his dad managed to get him a paddock pass—a gift for his latest win. Nicolo feels starry-eyed as he walks around, seeing the riders up close. He's been to races before—his family always tries to catch at least one each year—but this is different: just him, surrounded by an enormous space. He’s already asked at least half the grid for pictures.
And it was all good and well until, to his embarrassment, Nicolo realized he’d gotten lost. It shouldn’t be possible—it’s just rows of vans—but somehow, he managed, which feels silly. Now he’s in a support paddock he can’t make sense of. That’s when another boy finds him—clearly older, with messy black hair, a pretty face, and decked in rookie cup gear. Okay, he should have seen this one coming.
Guy looks a bit wary of Nicolo, which is not surprising, as he probably looks like a spooked animal, but hey. That's a bit insulting! It's he who should be wary of random people around him.
"Are you.. okay?" The nameless guy clearly has a bit of a struggle with English, but at least he is relatable.
"I lost, I... think" Nicolo tries for his best awkward smile to convey his embarrassment.
"Your parents here?" The guy clearly understands that they're both gonna have a bit of trouble communicating
"No, no, alone" he tries to shrug, awkwardness getting a bit too much.
"What's your name?" What does he have to lose even
"Toprak. You?" Toprak’s eyes look at him curiously
"Nicolo. Do you ride?" It can get worse at this point, so Nicolo is straight up pointing at the rookie cup logo on Toprak’s shirt
"Yeah.. do you ride?" Toprak is probably sick of the awkward air around them, too, trying to find a topic they might have in common at last
"Yes!" Okay, he probably shouldn’t have sounded that energetic. This Toprak probably thinks that he's a loser now.
But to his surprise, instead of the judging glare that he expected, eyes in front of him lit up with excitement as Toprak grabbed his hand and led him even further into the maze of metal that surrounds them with no expectation whatsoever.
Nicolo must admit that this whole situation scared him as much as it did intrigue him. Being led through the paddock rather quickly by a guy he met five minutes ago. But Toprak’s hand was warm in his, and Nicolo decided to let himself go. He can be cautious next time.
They stop when they get to a spacious parking lot not taken up by various cars and vans. Both out of breath, still hand in hand and looking around. There was a bike, nothing powerful, probably standing there waiting for someone to try and have fun with it.
"Do you want to?" Toprak asks, gesturing towards the bike, and who is Nicolo to say no. With a very enthusiastic shake of his head, he goes towards the bike, Toprak somehow already there, showing how to turn it on.
When Nicolo gets on it, all he can think to do is a few easy eights and a small wheelie, far from best, but it should count for something, right?
Evidently not really, because when he gets off the bike, Toprak is already next to him, excitedly saying something and hopping on the bike himself. Nicolo hopes that it's some form of praise, hopefully.
any and all thoughts escape him when Toprak rews the engine and starts his own little show. It's amazing what he can do with this little bike, if not a bit insane. Nicolo's wheelie looks pathetic in comparison, but he can't even think about that too much, too fascinated with a genuine talent show going on in front of him. When Toprak finally stops, almost like coming back to earth itself, Nicolo is next to him in just a few seconds.
"This amazing! Can you teach me?" Somehow, he manages to scramble for whatever bit of English he knows in that moment, desperately wishing that they could talk freely, but at least using what he can.
"Of course!" Somehow, Toprak is matching his excitement, which is comforting, in a way that doesn't make Nicolo feel like an absolute loser.
They spent the next hour or so right there, in that parking lot, with Toprak’s warm hand on his back while he tried to explain how to make a longer wheelie and Nicolo fighting the ridiculously bright blush of his own face. It's amazing and incredibly fun, even if they can't communicate that well, motorcycling somehow becomes their shared language for a fraction of time.
Neither of them notices as time slips by, and suddenly Nicolo's phone is ringing, his father calling him up because it's time to get picked up. Toprak obviously doesn't understand any of the conversation, but he probably gathers from Nicolo's regretful face that it's his time to go. All he does is nod and wordlessly offer to walk him out.
The only time Nicolo was more thankful to someone was probably when his dad gifted him his first minibike, and that should tell you something about just how much he wanted to thank Toprak for today.
When they got close enough that he could see security from their standpoint but still being in a bit of a shielded place, Toprak was finishing saying his goodbyes when something overtook Nicolo, and out of nowhere, he surged to give the other boy a brief hug. Only for Toprak to lock him in place for what felt like forever. Now Nicolo truly was red to his roots with how the warmth of the embrace made him feel. He didn't want to, but it was time to go.
"Ciao! Thank you for everything!" He tried to convey all of the emotions that this strange day brought to him with his voice. Looking at Toprak’s eyes, he probably succeeded. But no matter how nice it was, embarrassment and giddiness didn't let him stay in place, and he needed to move. And now the only way to move was out, so with that last goodbye, he went away.
Nicolo never asked where Toprak was from or what his surname was. Toprak didn't ask him any of those things either. Maybe it was for the best that this one occasion, a weird and amazing day of his life, will stay a bit of a mystery forever; maybe it has more charm like that.
This story kept replaying in Nicolo's head years later, as he was stepping into the WSBK paddock for the first time, also intimidatingly big and unfamiliar. Oh, how he wishes he had someone to guide him through it as there was that day. But no, this time Nicolo is here to race, and he needs to keep his head high by himself to prove his worth.
Or so he thinks, until only a few minutes into his paddock walk, he hears excited "Nicolo!" And finds a set of brown eyes with a familiar glint of excitement in them.
It is so dumb. It shouldn't even affect toprak in any way, whole situation is genuinely nothing more than a coincidence.
It shouldn't even be on his mind, everything else in his adjustment to MotoGP going very smooth, probably better than he would expect even.
It started before the season kicked into a gear and if for most parts toprak could ignore it, right now was one of those moments when homesickness truly kicked in.
He didn't have anything against diogo, he seemed like genuinely cool guy but by some joke of fate they became rookies in the series at the same time and even if their careers are so vastly different that it feel like apples and oranges more than anything else. Nonetheless this simple fact still invites comparisons, discussions and worst of all constant mentions of them together.
It doesn't intimidate toprak in any way, he may even welcome the competition to feel a bit more motivated.
It would all be good if not for how coincidentally diogo chose 11 as his number. Which if you look at it outright shouldn't in any way be topraks business but somehow it is because he again and again sees posts online talking about him and number eleven and it shouldn't bother him but sometimes, when the worst of homesickness kicks in all those posts do is remind him of time when he saw posts about him and nico and it brought pride for noth of them to his heart.
Toprak is very much used to what world wide racing series entail, got used to the travel and distance from everyone around him pretty easily. Once you get a hang of the rhythm it's very straightforward affair.
But since last year, before toprak even signed MotoGP deal something shifted. It was his first relationship with another rider and unexpectedly it was better than anything he could have imagined. Being title rivals helped then stay close by and he couldn't even remember last time he missed nicolo physically in that year. That was the hardest bit of the transition, going long distance after only knowing how to exist in each others orbits.
They did make it work don't get him wrong, now tge calls are nonstop whenever they have a chance and it's clear that the relationship will stay as strong as ever.
It doesn't help waves of homesickness that get to toprak though. Which is why it feels so dumb, he knows that all he needs to do is wait for a bit until they meet again but today the mix of frustrating bike and another mention of him and 11 in one tweet makes his bed feel frustratingly empty. But who knows, maybe nicolo is at least awake right now to talk him through it all. Hopefully
G | established relationship Toprak/Nicolò | WC: 1.3k
It's 2026 and Nicolò accidentally uses a Turkish pet name in the middle of a call at the parc fermé, which the media later speculates that he's been dating a woman from the country through Toprak
on ao3 or read here below
Being far away from each other is something that both Nicolò and Toprak have to get used to when the 2026 racing championship season starts. It isn’t easy of course, when Nicolò is used to look around in parc fermé, finding Toprak there and they’d always hug or give each other a pat on the shoulder, saying good race. However, he still finds himself looking to his side on the podium, even knowing that damn well Toprak is racing across the continent, and he’s leading the championship. Victorious, even.
He likes winning, which every athlete will agree with him on, and he has been winning. However, deep down he thinks it’s not the same, when it’s not Toprak giving him the exciting and thrilling battles on track, fighting for the win until the end. (Also he’ll shower him with praises and kisses, but he can’t get them anymore since they’re away.) So, he’s more than happy when he got handed down his phone at the parc fermé to accept a call from no one other than his boyfriend.
“Congratulations, winner.”
A smile forms on Nicolò’s face. “Mhm, were you watching?”
“Of course. You were amazing, aşkım.”
Maybe a faint blush has appeared on his face, won’t be noticeable though it’ll be brushed off as a post-race effect, the heat and all. He has missed that deep and soothing voice complimenting him.
“It’s not the same without you though, canım.” The sudden Turkish pet name had caught Toprak off on the other side, it seemed that Nicolò had picked up the habit of Toprak calling him every kind of pet name.
“I know, I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.” He hummed at the response.
The call ends some seconds later, because they still have to go to the podium. Despite finishing a very tiring race, the phone call has given Nicolò another energy supply to celebrate wildly on the podium, happiness pouring from all parts of his body. He wishes that Toprak is still watching him too.
Little does he know that such a simple moment at the parc fermé will draw so much attention from the public. Overnight, the phone call has gained the public attention, from fans with all their crazy theories.
There are some other headlines, but the second one makes his stomach drop. Did someone overhear them? That time he himself couldn’t hear Toprak’s voice clearly, so definitely someone couldn’t possibly be—
He clicked on the article.
—round winner, Nicolò Bulega was seen calling someone, who’s supposedly to be his lover. Written under his picture. He continues reading, some sources share his latest trip to Turkey was to meet the 2025 champion, Toprak Razgatlıoğlu. A sweat runs down his back, but he tries to stay calm, yes he went there to spend more private time with his new boyfriend, still who even bothers to trace him all the way there? They were seen going into a bar, leaving with a woman.
He sighs, feeling relieved, he knows where this article is going, and as expected some crazy fans were theorizing that the random woman—who’s actually just Toprak’s acquaintance who shouldn’t meet them at all, because she was asking Nicolò a hell lot of questions—is his supposedly-new-girlfriend. Just because he accidentally used a pet name Toprak has called him many times before. He lets out a loud laugh, tossing his phone aside.
Nicolò shares the article link to Toprak later. That earned him a good amount of laughing emoji from his lover.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. They are at the end of the World Superbike 2026 season. One step left to finalize Nicolò’s championship title. He has been nervous all week, not wanting to lose his focus and fumble this exact moment he’s been waiting for all his life. His friends and family are attending to show their support—even the academy guys are here. It’s only natural for his eyes to trail around, double checking if Toprak is also here, but there’s no signs—he’s a bit disappointed, but nothing should ruin his race, so he quickly follows his team to the grid.
The race wasn’t as exciting as he thought it’ll be, indeed he was nervous all the time—his heart thumping when there were three corners left, the second rider was already too far to overtake him at this moment, the title is practically his. Still, he shouldn’t celebrate too early—last time he had gotten a win over Toprak because the man’s bike was acting up at the last corner. He’s more than happy for the win but he doesn’t want to experience that himself.
At last, he did it.
He took his precious time to perform the celebration the team had helped him to prepare before. It felt amazing. Claps, whistles, and cheers were heard as soon as he entered parc fermé, bringing in his bike slowly. He refs it out, gaining even wilder cheers from his team, the smoke filling out the area. He can’t see that far with the smoke and helmet on, but when he sees that sliver sight of short black hair that’s taller than everyone—among his team members that are all wearing red—he knows. And when he finally gets near enough—unable to hold the emotions in—he nearly jumps over the barricade just to pull Toprak in a tight hug.
Their lips are so close that in someone else’s sight it’ll probably look like they’re kissing. He doesn’t care though, he has just won the championship and even more, his boyfriend is here. He’s here to share this special moment with him, and that’s more than enough to make him tear up—
“You’ve done it, champ.” Toprak pats his back, Nicolò’s breath hot against his.
“Are you proud of me?”
“Always.”
Then Nicolò realizes the amount of cameras and flashes that are directed around them—he coughs, stepping back from the barricade, that makes him able to see Toprak more clearly, with his lovingly-proud smile.
“Go on then, celebrate,” he told him.
Nicolò nods, then he goes to greet the other two riders—gaining congratulations from them too, before having his turn of the interview.
“We’ve seen that the former champion has come here to congratulate you, did your relationship change after his move?”
His ramble about the whole season stopped a little after hearing the question, he thinks—
“Well, it’s great to have him here—with us. Of course it meant a lot for me, since I respect him as a former rival even after his move to MotoGP,” he answered. He internally screams because he wants, wants to tell the world that he’s so happy to have his boyfriend witnessing his WorldSBK title, especially that they were sharing the grid before. Maybe he wishes that he has beaten Toprak instead, but this reality is also very good.
When they all get on the podium, Toprak’s eyes immediately meet Nicolò’s, not bothering to look anywhere else, pride also filling his chest as if he’s also winning the title. The win makes Nicolò glow even more, or maybe that’s just his lovestruck head telling, he doesn’t care, he promises to himself to shower his newly champion with everything, as he deserves. Also to make up with the lack of time they spend together—tonight will be long. He already imagines all sort of things they can finally do together—and maybe he’ll invite Nicolò to the next MotoGP race, just having him in his garage instead of Ducati’s. He doesn’t know how he’ll pull it off, but he will.
The season had ended, and the loud celebrations had gone down, but that doesn’t stop the articles and photos from flooding Nicolò’s socials. He’s now laying down comfortably on Toprak’s bed, in the hotel they’re staying for the MotoGP round weekend. Nothing is really new to him, until—
2026 WorldSBK Champion’s REAL Lover
And a picture of them hugging back from some weeks ago is attached below it.
