#driver academies

[st4rsdoyoulikedem]

I need this with all the driver academies like now.

[luv4estiebestie]

The F1 feeder series masterpost

In recent events, like Oliver Bearman's F1 debut in Jeddah, him, Jack Doohan and Kimi Antonelli joining the grid as rookies in ‘25, Liam Lawson and Gabriel Bortoleto also being discussed to get a seat and the reveal that Franco Colapinto would replace Logan Sargeant at Williams, feeder series’ have gotten more and more attention. A lot of people have no starting point to get into feeder series’ though, and struggle to understand the influence they take on F1, and that's what this post is for. This post includes everything you need to know about feeder series, and if you’re interested, you’ll find discussions and thoughts about common topics between fans and clarification on common misconceptions and anything else one might need on this blog.

Before we start into the topic; this post is incredibly long and detailed, thus there is not only a table of contents below to navigate it easier, but if you want to, you can also read it via the google doc. More discussions and similar posts can be found on my blog under the #wheeltalk

1: What is a feeder series’

2: How to get into feeder series’

3: The history of feeder series’

4: Drivers academies

5: Feeder series and F1

1. What is a feeder series

Feeder series are, in this case for Formula 1, racing series that are supposed to find new talents and develop them, thus the name; feeding them to F1, metaphorically. But in more detail, there are quite a few different feeder series that have developed over the years. They can be compared to stages;

A young driver will usually start their single seater in a series on F4 level, those are the smallest and slowest cars with only 160bhp. There is no worldwide championship, as the drivers are usually very young here and it’s the smallest and ‘cheapest’ of the open wheel series. There are different regional championships in a lot of places, as an example the British F4 or the Italian F4. Interesting to note is though, that these are rather new and there are big differences in the levels, the italian F4 is very popular and bigger compared to others. F4 and most lower feeder series drive by slightly different race weekend timetables to F1 and drive on vastly different circuits due to the regional aspect.

Although it's officially not counted as a feeder series, I would like to add F1 academy, which is a female only championship that follows the F1 calendar. Female drivers participate in that series to gain more attention from sponsors to be able to afford higher categories. Although their cars drive on F4 level, it's international and thus gains a lot more traction than other racing series of that car level.

If a driver is good enough and has the funds, they will progress to the so-called formula regional. Those are, as the name suggests, also regional. Different from F4 though, they are usually on a whole continent. The cars are faster and bigger and the whole event is more expensive. Most well known is probably the ‘Formula Regional European Championship by Alpine’ or short ‘FRECA’. Once again european bias strikes because even non europeans often come to europe to drive here because doing good in FRECA still seems to be better than to do good in another regional series, this is a problem for another post though.

Once again, if a driver is good enough and has enough funds, they can proceed to the next stage. Unlike in F1, they do not get paid to drive for a team but instead have to pay to get a seat, a rather expensive ordeal that can usually only be funded by good sponsors, rich connections or drivers academies that pay up to 100% of the cost. If a driver manages to afford a seat, they can participate in F3. Different from the previous categories, there are only two F3 series, although one is the FIA F3 world cup which is only one event, so most drivers focus on the FIA F3 championship which is not just international, but also follows the F1 calendar.

“Following the F1 calendar” means that they drive on the same circuits and weekends as F1, this helps them not only gain fans but also experience because an F3 race weekend is a lot more similar to F1 than an F4 race weekend and that is not just for the cars. F3 drives a lot less rounds though and almost exclusively in europe.

Last but certainly not least, when a driver graduates from F3 their next step is F2. The FIA F2 championship is arguably the most well known feeder series, almost every F1 driver that has debuted after 2017 has competed in this series, with many having won the championship. The cars are the closest to the F1 cars but it’s also the feeder series that requires most funds, with a seat for a season being estimated to cost up to $3 million. 

With all of this in mind, it needs to be added that all feeder series are spec series, so all the drivers in one championship have the same cars to ensure that the championship is reliant on racing talent, rather than the car. Still, they can change small things on set-ups and some feeder series teams are better than others, some series like F2 suffer under the so called Mecachrome, an engine that is super unreliable, so like any other racing series, feeder series have their problems.

Another important addition for feeder series is, that while there are junior academies the championships are not between the F1 teams that you are used to. I’ll explain junior academies later, but if you are watching feeder series it's important to be aware that there are other teams and rules slightly vary depending on the series. In F3, as an example, a team has three cars, but all of these are dependent on the series and you can easily find them out yourself.

For the race weekends it also slightly varies depending on the series; F2 and F3 have one free practice on friday, then qualifying, saturdays there are the sprint races with reverse grid and sunday the feature race. In the reverse grid the top half of the grid gets turned around after qualifying, the pole sitter for Sunday starts on ten, the driver who qualified for ten starts on one and so on. FRECA on the other hand has two full races with two full qualifyings. As mentioned, while I'd love to share everything, feeder series are (luckily) so broad that it's rather impossible. I’ll most likely post some pre-season guides for F2, F3, FRECA,... for the 2025 season though.

This is only a rough overview to show off how feeder series work. All of these series have official websites, social media sites and are easier to access than F1 so they are a lot more ‘fan friendly’. I will go more into detail on how and why these series have evolved the way they did later on, but I need to admit for myself, that I am a huge fan of feeder series because they are, as mentioned before, not only cheaper to attend but also really great to watch for fans and I hope I can help some people find interest in feeder series with this post.

2. How to get into feeder series

You may have seen the uproar around F2 drivers that could make their way into F1 next year, have read the previous text or decided for yourself, you’d like to watch even more racing, then this is the point where you find all the resources on how to!

I need to preface this by saying, feeder series grids are a lot less permanent than F1. Usually a driver only spends one or two seasons in a single series because they try to make their way up the ladder to F1 but also because it's a waste of money to pay for a seat when they could be in a higher category. Furthermore, sometimes seats just change in the season, with Franco Colapinto graduating from F2 mid season, he has triggered a domino effect; someone had to replace him in F2, that driver had to be replaced in F3,... For this reason, I cannot post a grid on any of the series here, for that you will have to visit the sites of the feeder series you are interested in.

What is pretty permanent though, are the teams. As mentioned, the teams are different from F1. Big feeder series teams like Prema racing, MP motorsports, ART grand prix, Rodin Motorsport, ect are present in most categories. By following them on social media you can easily find out who their drivers are and get to know them. I would also recommend following feederseriesnet on social media, it's the most trustworthy news site that covers everything related to the feeder series. Sadly, many feeder series are only covered in comparison to F1 by typical F1 news which is why those are more often than not untrustworthy.

If you question now how people have favorite drivers, then I have really good news for you; in feeder series everything is a bit more fun and to gain sponsors and fans, both teams and drivers themselves are a lot more active on social media than you’d be used to by F1 drivers. I've mentioned it before; feeder series are amazing for fans. There are good chances that you can even watch a race in person because feeder series are actually global and also super cheap, so just look at the F4 or regional championship closest to you.

In relation to this, I especially want to point out Prema. It's not only the most successful feeder series team but also by far the most popular one. The reason why Prema is so popular is on one side obviously the fact that they have won almost every single title in the past years and almost half the current F1 grid were in that team in their junior career, but also their social media presence. The Prema drivers are always by far the most well known and popular drivers in any series because Prema has been posting successful youtube videos for years now and I’ve found it the best way to get to know the drivers. As mentioned, many drivers were at Prema at some point, in feeder series drivers switch teams a lot more often so you’ll get to know about many drivers if you just look back a bit, even if certain teams post less on social media, their drivers will most likely appear in other videos.

If you want to watch the feeder series race, it depends a bit. Most regional championships you can watch free on youtube, but i’d recommend searching it up before you want to watch it. Some also live stream via official websites, really, it depends. F3, F2 and F1Academy follow the F1 calendar. Although they are not at every race, when they are, they just run via skysports, F1TV or wherever else you are watching F1.

In the end it's important to acknowledge, though, that feeder series and F1 are quite different. Feeder series are a lot more race based and things switch faster. For me, it's part of the fun to see more different types of drivers race, there is always something happening, drivers are younger and thus more bold, hoping to impress F1 teams. If you think F1 silly season is stressful, F2 is a lot worse since every single driver has to actually fear for their seat. One downside though is the fact that feeder series, beside Prema, lack a bit of fandom, there are significantly less fans for feeder series and there is a lot less content, less memes but the fans in general are in my experience a lot nicer.

3. The history of feeder series

Especially if you are a big fan of F1, trying to look at old feeder series races or are interested in the history of racing in general, acknowledging the history of feeder series is important to understand them. Feeder series have greatly evolved in roughly the past two decades; the “FIA Global Pathway from Karting to Formula One” as it has been established by the FIA only exists in the way it does now since 2014. 

Many of the current feeder series have gone through a whole lot of renamings, rule changings and changes in approach; there used to be F3 and GP3 at the same time, with GP3 being somewhat comparable to F3, but the whole problem was that there were many different open wheel racing series without a linear approach to F1. If you look at current F1 drivers' junior careers, you’ll notice how different they look to each other because unlike the way I introduced previously, there was no one pathway. The FIA has established a proper pathway now though, partially to help drivers but also because it's simply needed. If you look at certain drivers like Fernando Alonso, who started his Formula 1 career roughly 25 years ago, you’ll notice that he barely had any previous open wheel racing experience. The reason for that was not only that Alonso is a great driver with potential, but also the fact that F1 cars were simply a lot easier and it was more approachable for young drivers.

Since F1 cars have become more complex, driving has become faster and the F1 championship has become a lot more serious, the evolution of the feeder series have followed the evolution of F1. Racing has changed a lot, from the eighties where you pretty much sat in a car and just raced if you had the money to now, where teenagers train from early childhood on in karts to hopefully join F1 one day, F1 has become a huge sport. 

The biggest changes in recent years, following the FIA pathway program in 2014, are the following; 

In 2014, the Formula 4 series was invented, to bridge the jump from karts to F3 which has become a lot faster in recent years. In 2018, Formula regional was invented for the same reason as F4; to bridge the gap between existing series. Also in 2018, GP3 and the FIA Formula three European championship pretty much merged to what we now know as F3. the year prior, in 2017, GP2 rebranded to F2 leading to the feeder series being uniformed to all go by the formula title. 

I am quite sure we will still see some slight changes in the following years, especially since feeder series are gaining more and more traction as you can see here. All over the world there are also new regional championships starting out, which leads me to one of the most important parts of this; the globalification of feeder series.

Just like F1, feeder series are very european based. Many drivers had to move to europe in order to move up in the motorsport world, but with regional championships like the Formula regional middle east championship gaining traction, i wouldn't be surprised if feeder series become even more internationally, because while they are already a thing all over the world, you can clearly see the difference in F4; the italian F4 is always in focus and drivers from all over the world participate in them, while other F4s are focused more on their use; developing local talents.

4. Driver academies

Now as mentioned before, the F1 teams are not in feeder series, but there are so called ‘driver academies’ but what exactly are those and how do they work?

Well, driver academies are a sort of support system for junior drivers. F1 teams will take good young drivers into their teams. By that, they try to ensure that good drivers get the fundings to become a good future F1 driver. In return, they have contracts with the drivers and (usually) first privilege when it comes to signing them to drive for them in F1. 

But there are more advantages for the young drivers; besides the monetary advantages, being a member of a driver's academie helps them greatly. Depending on the academy they are in, they get help when it comes to personal trainers, contracts and sponsors and just in general, being a member of a driver academy makes it a lot more likely that a driver will actually join F1. 

But just like in racing itself, the different teams have not only different approaches but also different levels of success. While some junior academies like Ferrari can boast of being known to be incredibly loyal to their junior drivers, helping them get sponsors and become popular and having many of them graduate to F1, there are other junior academies who aren't as successful. Best example for a less successful team is Alpine, while they have many drivers, not many of them graduated to F1, even less with them. Still, in my opinion it's not necessarily a bad thing; a team like Alpine that pays for many young drivers is incredibly important and even better, they have a whole category for female racers.

In the next few days I'll post a ranking detailing a bit closer what exactly the driver academies are doing, so stay tuned!

5. Feeder series and F1

The way that feeder series have influenced F1 in recent years should have become a bit more obvious by now. With the establishment of a proper pathway for feeder series the drivers are a lot more likely to know each other and it's a lot easier to follow. F1 has become this huge sport in which everyone is a proper athlete, with feeder series becoming respected, so do their graduates.

Every rookie since 2019 had to go through at least one of the feeder series and although there will still be changes, especially with driver academies now going as early as F4 to recruit drivers, feeder series become more and more important to F1. 

Even if some people aren't as interested in feeder series, many have learned this year that you can't enjoy F1 without keeping the feeder series in mind.

Still, it's a personal wish, but i hope that in the near future (and hopefully by this) there will be more feeder series fans. Although obviously the end goal is F1, not everything in the feeder series has to be about F1. Furthermore, F1 is very different to the feeder series, which is a good thing. 

In the end, this whole post is a lot less detailed than i would have liked, but as mentioned multiple times, i will post even more specific texts in the future, but feeder series are such a broad topic that it would be an impossible task to explain every single feeder series because there are so many, and quite frankly, it would also be a bit boring.

If there are any questions left, or one of you just wants to talk about feeder series, request more info or discuss any thoughts, my DMs are always open and I absolutely love sharing all of these.

@the-prophesied-mouse @eve-will-perceive

sorry guys, this was supposed to be finished sooner but work ruined my life. I originally wanted to post it pre f3 final but live is hard. Also i'll be in so much pain if this fails, please.

[avus-circuit]

Guys the Abbi news is actually so huge. She'll get PAID for that work. LIKE MONEY (very little money, probably, but MONEY). that means that she's made it, essentially. when they ask all the f1a people what their dream is, the ones who don't say "formula 1" say "I would like to make it to a point where I get paid for driving". Like this is actually so important. even if this goes nowhere, she's making money for her talent. (knowing Abbi, though, she really just wants to be in a car and racing lol. she doesn't seem like she'll be satisfied with testing and sim work)

[pastryfication]

hi!!! can we get an ollie x reader, frustrated after he misses out on q3 in baku, and fully melts into his gfs arms when he’s out of the car. until someone from the team has to steer him away to the media pen

i guess that's the best i can do

pairing: ollie bearman x reader

note: i absolutely adore writing hurt/comfort so thank u for this request <33 i know it’s been over a month since u requested, and i’m so sorry for that, but i hope u still like it

the streets of baku were unforgiving that day, the tight corners and narrow straights biting harder than ollie had expected as he got into the car. he knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but missing out on q3—by just a fraction—hurt more than he wanted to admit.

he climbs out of the car quickly, his helmet still on, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. the moment he’s out of the cockpit, the frustration floods him. all those laps, the careful management, and it still wasn’t enough. he slams the steering wheel back in place a little harder than necessary, trying to keep the emotions from boiling over in front of the cameras. the pit crew is busy around him, preparing for the post-qualifying debrief, but all he can think about is how close he came.

he catches sight of you standing just outside of the garage, your face soft with understanding. it’s as if you know exactly how he’s feeling before he even reaches you. you offer a small smile, but ollie’s expression doesn’t budge. he pulls off his helmet and then his baclava, running a hand through his sweaty hair, before walking over to you, his shoulders heavy with disappointment.

as soon as he’s close enough, he drops his helmet onto the ground beside you and crashes into your arms without a word. his hands grip tightly onto your waist, his forehead resting heavily against your shoulder, as if all the tension and frustration can somehow seep out through the contact. for a long moment, he just stands there, holding on, and you can feel the shuddering breath he lets out.

you wrap your arms around him, holding him close, your hand gently stroking the back of his neck, offering silent comfort. his body, taut with frustration and anger just moments ago, begins to sag against yours, melting into your embrace. he’s letting it all go, just for a moment, here with you, where it’s safe to be vulnerable—where he can show his true emotions.

“you were absolutely brilliant out there,” you whisper softly into his ear, trying to sooth the storm brewing inside him. “so close, ollie. you fought so hard.”

he doesn’t say anything at first, his face still buried in the crook of your neck, his arms clinging to you as if he's afraid you'll disappear. you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, deep breaths as he tries to calm down, to find the words he wants to say. his grip on you tightens even further for a second, as if he needs to hold on to something stable, something real, before he can speak.

“i should’ve made it,” he mumbles, his voice thick with frustration. “i had the pace. i know i did.”

you keep stroking his hair, your other hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. “you’ll get them next time. this isn’t the end.”

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes glassy with emotion. “i just—” his voice cracks, and he shakes his head, trying to get the words out. “i wanted it so bad. i was right there.”

“i know,” you say softly, cupping his face in your hands. “i know, love. but this doesn’t change how incredible you are.”

for a moment, he just looks at you, the frustration still simmering beneath the surface but dulled by the warmth of your presence. you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his forehead, and he sighs again, his shoulders finally slumping in defeat—though not the kind of defeat that lingers, but the kind that comes with acceptance, with knowing he did all he could.

but before he can fully disappear into the comfort of your embrace, someone from the team approaches, clearing their throat. you both turn to see one of the pr managers, looking slightly awkward but aware of the time crunch. “ollie,” they say softly, not wanting to intrude too much. “we’ve got to get you to the media pen. they’re waiting.”

ollie groans quietly against your shoulder, his grip on you loosening as reality pulls him back. “right,” he mutters, clearly not thrilled about it.

he pulls back reluctantly, his hands still lingering on your waist for a second longer before he lets go completely. “i’ll be back soon,” he says, the words more for himself than for you, like a promise he’s making to get through this next part.

you offer him an encouraging smile, giving his hand a squeeze. “you’ve got this.”

he nods, though you can see he’s still carrying some of that disappointment with him. just before he walks away, he pauses, turning back to you. “thank you,” he whispers, his voice quiet but sincere. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“you don’t have to,” you reply, smiling softly as you reach up to caress his cheek adoringly. “i’ll always be here.”

with that, he smiles softly and leans down to give you a hurried kiss before finally allowing the team to steer him away, glancing back at you one last time before disappearing into the paddock. you watch him go, knowing that once he’s done with the media, you’ll be there waiting, ready to pull him back into your arms when he needs it most.

[wcters]

SPIN OUT

pairing: lando norris x fem!driver!reader

word count: 1.2k+

summary: your boyfriend is there as you crash out in a race

warnings/contents: pda, some swearing, injury mentions, protective lando, i guessed on some stuff

author’s note: i do not know how certain things work in f1 so if i messed that up i am sorry 😚😔

Your pre-race playlist filled your ears as you leaned the side of your body against the wall of the track barrier. Even though you’d done this so many times before, it doesn’t lessen the nerves in your body. It wasn’t even your first time on this track, yet it had you picking the skin off you fingers as you zoned out.

You were pulled out as someone came up behind you and wrapped their arms around your waist, grabbing your hands and holding them in theirs. You knew who it was right when you saw their hands. You looked behind you to see your boyfriend. You freed your hand from one of Lando’s and took out an earbud. “Stop picking.” Is the first thing you heard out of him.

“Sorry,” you replied as you took the hand still holding his and brining it up to your mouth and kissed his knuckles, “just nervous.” He smiled softly at you and turned you around to pull you into his chest. “I know, but you’re going to do great.” “So I guess you see the future now, yeah?” You joked. He shrugged his shoulders, “one of my many talents.” “Sure.”

Lando had come to see you race because it was the one race that didn’t take place at the same time as his did. The Bahrain Grand Prix had just taken place about three days before. He had taken a day to himself before he came and joined you in Jeddah. It was challenging with both of your schedules but you made it work, you always did. You both knew the risks and the troubles of two F1 drivers dating, and you both were prepared.

He poked your cheek. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” He asked you. “Yeah. Just have a feeling something will go wrong today.” You said lowly as you looked at the cars on the track. “You’ll be fine, y/n. You’ve had this before and nothing happened.” You nodded into his chest as you breathed in and out. Right as you pulled away your race engineer came up to you and told you it was time. Lando kissed you and wished you good luck as you handed him your phone and earbuds and put your mask and helmet on.

Time passed quickly ━━ probably because of the adrenaline ━━ and before you knew it you were in your car watching the lights. Your hands felt sweaty under your gloves as you didn’t dare to blink. You didn’t want to miss it. As the lights went out, your car came to life and you sped ahead. That feeling of something going wrong was still there but you tried to shake it off and focus on the race.

Lando was in the garage with your engineer and mechanics, eyes peeled on the screen. He noticed how shaken up you were and he was worried. Like he said to you, you’d felt this before but this time he could tell something about it was different. His hands were shaking as he kept his eyes on you and talked to your engineer to try to calm himself down.

Your voice interrupted his senses as he watched you enter your 24th lap. “Somethings up with the tires, I’m getting no grip.” His eyes flicked to the man beside him. “Noted. See if you can hold on a little longer.” Your engineer’s voice filled your ears. “Got it.” Lando was left alone after that as your engineer got up to talk to the mechanics.

When the big screen showed your car, Lando got worried. He saw how little traction your tires had and how you were slipping on your turns. He could hear the commentators voice as well commenting on that as you finish the 27th turn and get ready to start your 25th lap.

As he watched you speed up the track, he didn’t even notice until after it happened. As you tried to turn on the first turn, you tires skidded across the track and you couldn’t complete the second turn, causing your car to crash into the barrier. It didn’t look too bad, but all Lando could hear was silence and all he could think about is if you were okay.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Your engineers voice cut into the silence of the radio. He got even more worried when you didn’t answer. “Y/n? Baby?” Lando asked into the headset. More silence. He turned around to see if anyone knew what was happening until he finally heard your voice.

“Doing great.” You grunted. “Nothings broken ━━ I don’t think ━━ but my side does hurt. I think I might’ve bruised it when I hit the barrier.” Lando sighed it relief. He was right, it wasn’t too bad. Nothing was broken and you thought it was just a bruise.

“The safety car’s been deployed and it heading your way. Don’t go running anywhere.” You engineer instructed you. “Not going anywhere,” you joked with a light laugh before a hiss came out. With only some trouble you eventually made it out of the car and sat against the barrier to wait for the safety car. You could tell that Lando was worried by the sound of his voice . . . and because you know him. You and him were on the same wavelength, if you could describe it in any way. You felt things the same, and because of that you knew how the other was feeling. You felt the same when he crashed in the Las Vegas GP. It was almost the same too, you spinning out and hitting the barrier. It was entirely coincidental.

You sighed in relief when you saw the safety car ━━ you were ready to get out of there. Your side hurt like a bitch, way more than it did before, and your legs were starting to get tingly. The adrenaline must be wearing out. Lando never turned his gaze away from the screen as they put you in the safety car. He knew you were in good hands, but it ultimately didn’t matter to him. Anything could go wrong.

Lando was right beside you when you got out of the safety car and taken to the doctors on site before you were taken to the hospital. As you were in getting checked out the the doctors, Lando was rambling. “They should’ve taken you off the tires when you told them. They should’ve taken it more seriously. If they had then ━━“ You interrupted him by putting your hand over the one that was holding yours. “It’s fine. If I had felt more nervous I would’ve boxed anyway. Plus, Will would’ve done the same and you would be acting like me. It’s not their fault.”

He sighed, and you knew he knew that you were right. “I know, I just worry.” You kissed his hand, “I know you do. And I do too when the same things happen to you. But I’m fine. They’ll take me to the hospital where they’ll double check I have no injuries. If it makes you feel better I’ll even let you check.” You joked. He laughed and shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

The doctors eventually told you that you were good to go to the hospital. Nothing looked too bad, but it was standard procedure. You sat up with a groan and Lando immediately made a face. You shot him a look. “C’mon, I’m fine.” He didn’t agree. You rolled your eyes. “Let’s go, you’re coming with me to the ambulance. Maybe they’ll let you turn on the sirens.”

[httpiastri]

this is now my roman empire

"ollie, are you with us?" "ah- i see my team!! but i don't know where… ah, i see them there!!! 😁😁"

[gourmet-soda-pop]

the 'draw your comfort characters as this' idea is really funny actually-

this oneeee ^^^

[heyitspapayaontop]

I'll Be There For You

Request: 🌺

Pairing: Oliver Bearman x WEC Driver!reader

Themes: Minor angst with fluff<3

Warnings: Ferrari winning Le Mans <3 (CADILLAC PLEASE WIN THIS YEAR.)

Summary: In which you lost Le Mans while Ollie was in Montreal for a race and he refuses to let you cry on your own.

The Cadillac driver didn't have time to take off her helmet before the tears fell.

The lights at Le Mans were brutal—too bright, too sharp, shining down on a podium you weren’t standing on. Ferrari had taken it. Again. And this time, you’d made it to the final stint. You had a real shot. You had the lead. And then the car sputtered in pit lane, just once, just enough.

P2. Not even five seconds in it.

And you didn’t want to hear the interviews or the noise or the celebration that wasn’t yours.

So you called him.

Ollie answered on the second ring, still in the Haas hospitality suite in Montreal. His curls were damp from the post-quali rain, face tired from media duties, but the second he heard your voice—broken and trembling—he sat up straight.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

You sniffled, voice small. “I lost, Ollie.”

He paused. “You came second at Le Mans, love. That’s not losing.”

“I was leading with twenty minutes to go,” you choked. “I let them down.”

“You didn’t let anyone down,” he said firmly. “You raced your heart out. Everyone saw it.”

You didn’t answer right away. He could hear you breathing, uneven, trying so hard not to cry harder.

“I just… I really wanted this one.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know, baby. I’m proud of you. So, so proud of you.”

There was silence, soft and heavy, and then you barely whispered, “I wish you were here.”

That’s all it took.

The next morning, before most of the paddock in Montreal had even had coffee, Ollie was on a flight to France. No press. No fuss. Just him, hoodie pulled up, headphones in, watching the clouds blur past the window as he counted the hours until he could hold you.

By the time he got to the circuit, you were still in your post-race fireproofs, sitting on the pit wall with your arms wrapped around your knees, looking more like a ghost of yourself than the fighter he loved.

You looked up when you heard footsteps.

And then froze.

“Hi,” he said simply.

Your lip quivered. “You’re—how—”

“I told you I’d be where you needed me.”

You ran to him like the ground burned, and he caught you without a second thought, wrapping you up in his arms, your face pressed into his shoulder.

You were crying again, all the tears were back and falling into his hoodie.

He just held you, rubbing your back whispering sweet nothings.

“You tried, Love. You tried.”

: - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - :

The next morning Ollie had never looked more serious in his life.

Sitting on the hotel balcony in a hoodie and sweatpants, his curls still messy from sleep, he had one hand around a mug of coffee and the other holding his phone to his ear.

“Pierre, I need your help,” he said, quietly but firmly.

There was a pause, and then— “Bearman?” “Yeah.” “It’s 6:42 in the morning.” “I know,” Ollie whispered, glancing back through the hotel window to where you were still asleep, curled up under the white sheets. “But it’s important.”

Pierre sighed dramatically. “Is this about your car?” “No.” “Your quali?” “No.” “...Are you dying?” “No!” Ollie hissed. “I need a place to take her for breakfast.”

Pierre went silent.

And then, “Ohhh.”

“Yeah.”

“She cried, didn’t she?”

Ollie smiled softly, eyes flicking back to you. “A river.”

Pierre’s voice softened too. “She deserved that win.”

“I know.”

“You showing up was good.”

“I want to do more.”

Pierre was quiet for a moment. Then: “Okay. There’s a bakery in the old quarter. Not touristy. Locals only. You’ll want a table in the back—sunlight comes through the window just right. Tell them Gasly sent you. They’ll know.”

Ollie blinked. “Why do you know that...? ”

“Because I’m French.”

“You’re too French.”

Pierre smirked through the phone. “You’re welcome, mon gars. Let her feel soft this morning. She gave the world everything yesterday.”

Ollie smiled, something warm blooming in his chest. “Yeah,” he said softly. “She really did.”

By 8:30am, you were in one of Ollie’s oversized sweatshirts, hair still a little messy, blinking in the soft morning light as he led you down a quiet cobblestone street, hand in yours.

“Where are we going?” you asked, cheeks still puffy from the night before.

“Somewhere only Pierre would know,” he said mysteriously.

You squinted. “You called Gasly?”

“I needed the inside scoop. I’m on breakfast duty. Don’t question my sources.” He grinned.

And when you reached the tiny café tucked between a flower shop and a bookstore, when you sat in the sunlit back corner, hands wrapped around warm mugs, buttery croissant melting on your tongue…

You smiled.

Just a little.

And Ollie relaxed. Because you were smiling again.

And that was everything.

: - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - :

A/N: THIS IS ONE OF MY MANY FICS TO BE POSTED IN THE NEXT FEW DAYS!! I had a finals test this morning!

[b38rman]

SLOW MOTION, DOUBLE-VISION ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡☾ ﾟ｡⋆ Ollie Bearman

tags - ollie bearman x afab!reader, childhood friends to lovers, reader is in uni, light angst, eventual smut (with feelings), explicit sexual content

synopsis - No matter how many years passed by, it was glaringly obvious that you would never admit to yourself that you’d always wished for Ollie to be the one for you. It was hard back then, and it was even harder now. (OR: Your head knew that your childhood best friend would never be the one for you. Your heart just hadn’t realized it yet.)

rating - explicit

warnings - 18+ minors dni, slight angst (a little bit of arguing), explicit sexual content, unprotected sex

a/n - very obviously inspired by gold rush by taylor swift. ollie IS gold rush to me. highly recommend listening to it while thinking of him.

Whenever Ollie ran, you would chase him. Whether it was through his garden, between classrooms, or around your dinner table, you'd been doing it ever since you could remember. 

That was until he ran far, far away from you to Italy—of course you wouldn't follow (no matter how badly you wanted to.)

It was amidst this chase when you realized that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop longing for him. You'd known this since you were 12 years old, when he grinned from the pew next to you as he caught you falling asleep during a church sermon. After that, you couldn't stop realizing the squeeze in your chest when you made him laugh, or the way he'd look at you at the end of a karting race, and how he'd thank you on those days like your company meant more than the accolades he was collecting. 

At 16 and 17, when he'd just moved and you'd already begun preparing for university, you'd try to keep in contact regularly. You'd watch as your laptop screen filled with the smile that had made your knees weak even from a thousand miles away and promptly force yourself to shut down those feelings.

"Hey you." He'd say, like he always did. "Hi. How was work today?" You'd answer, and he'd beam before talking your ear off for an hour or two, or until he decided he was too tired to keep going. 

Many times you wished you could reach through the screen and trace the freckles on his cheeks. You longed for the certainty of knowing how they felt under your fingertips.

On these calls, you knew that he just needed someone to listen to him. It wasn't that you weren't genuinely interested in what he was saying—of course you were—it was just that maybe your life was getting so bland that you had nothing to share with him, or that all of those things paled in comparison to what he was doing. The distance was far greater than the mileage separating both of you.

"Good night Ollie, sleep tight." You'd say at the end of one of these calls, watching his eyes blink slowly, indicating that he was already drifting off.

"You aren't telling me something." He answered. You felt your stomach twist.

I miss you, was definitely on your mind. I love you and I want you here were more self indulgent options for sure.

"I'm telling you everything." It was a white lie, but you couldn't think of what else to say to that.

You watched as Ollie's face dropped and shifted into an expression you couldn't read. He paused to take a moment, before going back to his own sleepiness.

"Good night." And the screen faded to black.

Over time, the calls became less and less frequent. It was sad, honestly; you went from seeing him basically everyday to feeling like you were barely a part of his life. Ultimately, though, it became clear how you were worlds apart from each other, especially since he stopped coming home for holidays and birthdays, and you didn't have the time to visit Modena no matter how many times you'd promised that to him in the past.

You existed on different planets—entirely different dimensions and planes of reality. He could pick and choose between celebrities and Instagram models, and you were stuck highlighting textbooks living from deadline to deadline.

That was until you got the call. 

“Ollie’s coming home.” Your mom said as soon as you picked up. You were cycling from one building to another between your classes and had three missed calls from her already. 

“What?” You hoped the shock surfacing in your voice wasn’t that obvious, considering how jarring it was in comparison to your mom’s excitement. 

“Yes! Come home for the weekend, it’ll be just like old times.” Your mom answered, thankfully not detecting your nerves.

It would be like old times, but this Ollie  wasn’t. You didn’t know what to do with that. What you were sure of though, is Ollie wasn’t running anymore—and you weren’t sure if that meant you had to stop chasing him too.

Ollie was standing behind his parents when you arrived at their house. It felt surreal, like you were undergoing some kind of half-dream, half-deja vu state. After greeting his parents with the usual pleasantries about how university is treating you and how you grow up so fast, you finally got to lay eyes on Ollie after three whole years. 

All you could see in that moment was him. It was like your mind fell silent and the only sound that cascaded through your body was that of your heart pounding against your ribcage.

In front of him, you were five, twelve, sixteen, and nineteen all at once. 

The silence felt like it lasted a lifetime, but he pulled you in before he could say a word.

The world went silent as you closed your eyes and let yourself stay in that moment. It was as if his parents and little brother weren't in the doorway with you—as if the world was your hometown and Modena was universes away.

"I missed you." Ollie said so earnestly your body was going to explode. He buried his face in your hair and you swore he was a few inches taller than he was when he left you.

"Me too." You replied into his chest, trying to breathe through how overwhelming everything was.

You were on your phone, lying in Ollie's twin-sized mattress, perfectly preserved like a sacred relic from your childhood. You'd remember nights when you'd snuggle together, his touch like a comforting anchor amidst seas that he could calm with his hand. You wondered if it was the same as it had always been. Would it be different now? Was it different now?

You glanced above the screen to watch Ollie reassembling his simulator in silence. It was comfortable, with the only air of awkardness coming from the elephant standing in the corner of the room; that being you not being on conversational terms previously despite being 'best friends.'

"Need help?" You asked, as you watched Ollie furrow his brows at some part that looked like any other part, which was confusing in itself but you were willing to help anyway. 

"No, all good." He chewed his bottom lip, clearly still frustrated and at a loss at what to do. 

You pursed your lips together and calmly asked a second time, "You sure?"

"Yes! I told you I didn't need your help the first time. Why aren't you listening to me?" Ollie let go of the parts he was holding, opting instead to press his eyes into his palms. "It used to be so easy to have you around, I just can't figure out why it's so different now."

"Well maybe it's because you're different now, Ollie." You couldn't help but raise your voice back at him as your heart pounded for entirely different reasons now.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe you were the one who stopped talking to me." His eyes pierced through you, but his glare was so obviously laced with hurt. It hurt you too—of course it did. 

You took a deep breath before replying. 

"You could literally pick any other girl to talk to, I don't know why what I do matters so much to you." You felt the tears well up in your eyes as you tried to stop your voice from fraying at the send of your sentence. You closed your eyes and covered your face in an attempt to stop the tears, but that proved futile as the warm wet streaks soon lined your face.

You felt the side of the bed dip and a hand reach out to gently touch the hands on your face. 

"Hey, I'm sorry, look at me." He wrapped his calloused hand around your wrist and exposed your red, splotchy face in all its glory to him. "You know me, you know I don't care about—" Ollie gestured loosely with one hand "—them. Besides, none of them will ever be you."

You tried not to overthink his statement too much as he moved his hand from his wrist to your cheek, then to your forehead. You held your breath as he leaned forward to press a kiss on your forehead, then down to your right cheek. You felt all the air exit your lungs as he pressed his forehead to yours, so impossibly close to you.

Growing up, you'd always wondered what it would be like to study how perfect every freckle and feature on his face was. Now that it was happening, the overwhelming glimmer in his eyes barely gave away that none of this was a pipe dream that you'd imagined from too many days away from him.

"Can I—" Ollie started. 

You grabbed his chin and smashed your lips together, taking him by surprise before he could even finish his sentence. People describe kissing to be like fireworks going off in your belly, or like butterflies swarming—however, there were no butterflies or fireworks, because those things couldn't even come close to what you were feeling. 

The kiss was hard and deep and neverending. It wasn’t the kind of kiss that came from years of anticipation—it was something else entirely; gentler, more deliberate. You felt Ollie’s hand slide to your waist, pulling you closer as though he was afraid you might disappear. Every inch of space that had once stretched between you over the years seemed to fold in on itself, leaving only the heat of his lips on yours and the sound of your uneven breaths filling the room.

“Ollie,” you whispered against his mouth when you finally pulled away, your voice barely audible. His name hung in the air like a confession.

He looked at you, his eyes filled with something raw, and you almost wished you could look away from how immense it was. “I mean it,” he murmured. “None of them will ever be you.”

Your chest tightened, the weight of those words nearly leading you to collapse. You didn’t need him to explain further because it made sense now. From the moment he grinned at you in that church pew, to the countless video calls where his smile never quite reached his eyes anymore, and even now as his thumb brushed gently across your cheek—it all made sense.

But there was still a sliver of fear inside you. “What happens when you leave again?” you asked softly. Your hand found its way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your palm. “What happens to us then?”

Ollie let out a shaky breath, his forehead pressing against yours again. “I don’t know,” he admitted honestly. “But I do know that I can’t keep pretending it doesn't feel like this to me. I can’t keep running away from this—away from you.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave. For years, you’d chased him, only to stop when you thought he’d never look back. But here he was, tethering himself to you with a kind of sincerity that was so intense it was just on the verge of too much. 

You didn’t say anything more. Instead, you let yourself kiss him again—this time slower, more intentional. His lips moved against yours like he was committing every moment to memory, like he didn’t want to forget a single second of this.

Eventually, the kiss deepened, and his hands roamed cautiously over your back, your waist, like he was overriding the memories he had of you with this one. You felt the mattress shift as he pulled you down with him, your body fitting against his as though it had always been meant to. The warmth of his hands against your skin grounded you, making you feel like this wasn’t just a dream.

“Ollie,” you breathed his name again, your voice trembling as his lips found your jaw, your neck. “I’ve waited so long for this.”

“So have I,” he confessed between kisses, his voice husky and filled with need. “You have no idea how long.”

You stayed on your sides, your head spinning as you continued to kiss. Maybe it was the oxygen that you were losing from kissing for this long, or maybe it was how high you were on the fact that Ollie felt the same way about you. Either way, you knew where this was leading, and you could barely believe that it was happening here, in Ollie's bedroom. You couldn't figure out if it felt sacred or if it unlocked certain fantasies that you didn't dare indulge in. 

Ollie was the one who made the first move, daring to move his warm, calloused hands over your ribcage, tantalizingly close to your breasts. "Please, Ollie," you brought your mouth away from his for a moment to plead. "Need you." You said, punctuated by you moving his hands under your bra. 

You shuddered under his touch as his hand rubbed across your nipples, leading you to jerk your hips forward into the growing hardness in his pants. You knew the moan he let out would fill your ears and mind with yearning long after this.

You toyed with the hem of his shirt as both your movements grew more and more desperate, and that cued Ollie to rid of his shirt altogether. You followed suit with your shirt and bra, making sure to spend enough time admiring just how beautiful all of him was, like he himself was chiseled out of the marble they used to make the statues of demigods.

"You're staring." He said smugly, eyes glistening with mischief and warmth. You chuckled back at him. 

"Well I'm sorry." The apology came out sounding snarky and sarcastic, and it was Ollie's turn to laugh.

"You aren't though." Ollie quipped back before diving into your neck once again, licking and biting just to get some noises out of you. 

He then helped you out of your shorts and underwear, seemingly desperate to run his fingers through your folds. "Fuck, you're so wet for me." You gasped as he ran his fingers over your clit and your hole, spreading your wetness around. 

Ollie made quick work of his own pants and boxers, and you indulged him by wrapping your hands around his dick, hard and leaking pre-cum. After you gave him a few experimental pumps, he was relenting. "Ah—wait—don't want to cum yet." 

Soon after, your hand was replaced by Ollie's as he guided his length into you, inch by inch. He had one hand at the base of his dick, and the other holding your knee up, making the angle better and ensuring that you were properly open for him to lay all of his love into. 

You didn't even have time to think after he bottomed out inside you, because soon after he was setting a pace that could only be described as relentless, like he was trying to repent for the years you'd waited. You couldn't help the moans that escaped your mouth as he pounded into you. 

You held on to him as he laid into you, whimpering as sweat began to form on his brow. 

"Tell me," He said, breathless as the room was filled with the sounds of skin against skin, "Tell me you love me." 

Your heart felt like it was bursting at the seams. "I love you—God, fuck—I love you."

With that, Ollie was burying himself deep into you and reaching his climax, painting your insides with pearly white rivulets. You were not far behind, clenching and cumming around his cock as he ground the last of his orgasm into you. 

As soon as Ollie pulled out, he was grabbing napkins from his bedside table, cupping a wad of them at your entrance as his cum seeped out of you. He seemed focused on it though, how you were practically dripping with his release and yours. 

"I could get used to this." Ollie's breathing turned heavy.

"You're kind of nasty." You replied playfully, shifting the mood as he cleaned you up.

"You love it." He joked, but you knew there was more behind that. 

"Almost as much as I love you." You followed up, laying a kiss on his flushed cheek. 

For the first time in years, you didn’t feel like you were chasing him anymore. He was here—grounded, steady, and most importantly, yours alone.

[aaron04jpg]

Chloe you will always be that girl

[kimis25]

prema core

[your-ace-cousin-clover]

okay so hear me out ...

... okay thank you

[itscalledastrategyfred]

I'll Be There For You

Request: 🌺

Pairing: Oliver Bearman x WEC Driver!reader

Themes: Minor angst with fluff<3

Warnings: Ferrari winning Le Mans <3 (CADILLAC PLEASE WIN THIS YEAR.)

Summary: In which you lost Le Mans while Ollie was in Montreal for a race and he refuses to let you cry on your own.

A/N: This is from my main @heyitspapayaontop, I write there mostly!!

The Cadillac driver didn't have time to take off her helmet before the tears fell.

The lights at Le Mans were brutal—too bright, too sharp, shining down on a podium you weren’t standing on. Ferrari had taken it. Again. And this time, you’d made it to the final stint. You had a real shot. You had the lead. And then the car sputtered in pit lane, just once, just enough.

P2. Not even five seconds in it.

And you didn’t want to hear the interviews or the noise or the celebration that wasn’t yours.

So you called him.

Ollie answered on the second ring, still in the Haas hospitality suite in Montreal. His curls were damp from the post-quali rain, face tired from media duties, but the second he heard your voice—broken and trembling—he sat up straight.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

You sniffled, voice small. “I lost, Ollie.”

He paused. “You came second at Le Mans, love. That’s not losing.”

“I was leading with twenty minutes to go,” you choked. “I let them down.”

“You didn’t let anyone down,” he said firmly. “You raced your heart out. Everyone saw it.”

You didn’t answer right away. He could hear you breathing, uneven, trying so hard not to cry harder.

“I just… I really wanted this one.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know, baby. I’m proud of you. So, so proud of you.”

There was silence, soft and heavy, and then you barely whispered, “I wish you were here.”

That’s all it took.

The next morning, before most of the paddock in Montreal had even had coffee, Ollie was on a flight to France. No press. No fuss. Just him, hoodie pulled up, headphones in, watching the clouds blur past the window as he counted the hours until he could hold you.

By the time he got to the circuit, you were still in your post-race fireproofs, sitting on the pit wall with your arms wrapped around your knees, looking more like a ghost of yourself than the fighter he loved.

You looked up when you heard footsteps.

And then froze.

“Hi,” he said simply.

Your lip quivered. “You’re—how—”

“I told you I’d be where you needed me.”

You ran to him like the ground burned, and he caught you without a second thought, wrapping you up in his arms, your face pressed into his shoulder.

You were crying again, all the tears were back and falling into his hoodie.

He just held you, rubbing your back whispering sweet nothings.

“You tried, Love. You tried.”

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The next morning Ollie had never looked more serious in his life.

Sitting on the hotel balcony in a hoodie and sweatpants, his curls still messy from sleep, he had one hand around a mug of coffee and the other holding his phone to his ear.

“Pierre, I need your help,” he said, quietly but firmly.

There was a pause, and then— “Bearman?” “Yeah.” “It’s 6:42 in the morning.” “I know,” Ollie whispered, glancing back through the hotel window to where you were still asleep, curled up under the white sheets. “But it’s important.”

Pierre sighed dramatically. “Is this about your car?” “No.” “Your quali?” “No.” “...Are you dying?” “No!” Ollie hissed. “I need a place to take her for breakfast.”

Pierre went silent.

And then, “Ohhh.”

“Yeah.”

“She cried, didn’t she?”

Ollie smiled softly, eyes flicking back to you. “A river.”

Pierre’s voice softened too. “She deserved that win.”

“I know.”

“You showing up was good.”

“I want to do more.”

Pierre was quiet for a moment. Then: “Okay. There’s a bakery in the old quarter. Not touristy. Locals only. You’ll want a table in the back—sunlight comes through the window just right. Tell them Gasly sent you. They’ll know.”

Ollie blinked. “Why do you know that...? ”

“Because I’m French.”

“You’re too French.”

Pierre smirked through the phone. “You’re welcome, mon gars. Let her feel soft this morning. She gave the world everything yesterday.”

Ollie smiled, something warm blooming in his chest. “Yeah,” he said softly. “She really did.”

By 8:30am, you were in one of Ollie’s oversized sweatshirts, hair still a little messy, blinking in the soft morning light as he led you down a quiet cobblestone street, hand in yours.

“Where are we going?” you asked, cheeks still puffy from the night before.

“Somewhere only Pierre would know,” he said mysteriously.

You squinted. “You called Gasly?”

“I needed the inside scoop. I’m on breakfast duty. Don’t question my sources.” He grinned.

And when you reached the tiny café tucked between a flower shop and a bookstore, when you sat in the sunlit back corner, hands wrapped around warm mugs, buttery croissant melting on your tongue…

You smiled.

Just a little.

And Ollie relaxed. Because you were smiling again.

And that was everything.

[pastryfication]

Can you pls do an Ollie Bearman with high school sweetheart!reader in Jeddah?

FERRARI SWEETHEARTS, ollie bearman

ollie bearman x high school sweetheart!reader

very short but this was requested back in august(!!!) so i wanted to get it out! i really hope you enjoy it <33

yourusername added to their story

liked by olliebearman and 738 others.

[ hello jeddah 🤍🇸🇦 ]

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yourbsf you guys are so cute 💗

yourusername aw ily 💓

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yourusername posted on their story

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[ and it’s pole position!👆 ]

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olliebearman i love you ❤️ my good luck charm

yourusername i should just come to all your races

olliebearman please do 🥺

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yourusername on instagram

liked by elvirahallqvist, kimiantonelli and 97.393 others

yourusername me and kitty are more than ready ❤️🏎️

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user1 the best wag 😻

user2 ollie is so lucky to have you

olliebearman 🏎️❤️

yourusername 🥰

user3 f2 wag by day f1 wag by night ♥️ liked by author

franciscac.gomes pretty girl 😍😍

yourusername ilyy thank you for giving me such a warm welcome 🥺❤️

user4 enjoy it!!

olliebearman on instagram

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olliebearman thank you for an amazing weekend! p7 and my first points in f1 ❤️ definitely special.

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user1 congrats!! you were amazing ollie 🐻❤️

user2 the future of f1 right there

yourusername so proud of you 😭❤️

olliebearman thank you for all the support my love 🥰❤️

user6 well done!

user3 y/n’s comment?? i love them your honour

user4 the cutest couple ever i swear

user5 they are perfect

[st4rsdoyoulikedem]

Marta handing out the pole position award to Oscar while they raced against each other when they were younger🥹 She also raced against Logan, Felipe, Kush and Christian!

[cloudslou]

chloe grant posted this reel on on insta that i just saw and i know it’s pretty par for the course for girls and women in motorsports but it just reminded me how many talented and driven women r in motorsports who simply do not have the funding or sponsors to compete at the same level as men.