#f1 academy reader

[cheriladycl01]

Female Max Verstappen, Our Little Lioness - F1 Drivers x PlatonicF1Academy! Reader.

Plot: You are in F1 Academy after getting stuck in F3 with no progression so to get onto the scene of bigger teams you join the Academy with Rodin. Your dominance makes people call you the Mini Max Verstappen.

You'd grown up in the world of motorsports, your dad being a racing legend and your mum being a MotoGP engineer.

You grew up with heroes like Jenson Button and Lewis Hamilton at your doorstep. When you expressed and interest in karting at a young age your dad of course made prepartions to help you into your driving career.

And like most children of F1 drivers you had this natural talent in you. You were beating all the kids in your age range and were asked to move up. However, even with a dad known to the motorsport world people were apprehensive to take on girls in this sport.

You competed in many championships, in the UK, in the US, across Oceania and Asia. It was all a bit of a blur if you were being honest. You'd done as much as you could, in order to get yourself closer to F1. You'd driven Rally you'd done test drives in IndyCar, but getting a place in anything higher than Formula 3 seemed impossible.

So when Suzie Wolff offered you a place in the F1 Academy under an Disney Sponsor. You found it hilarious when a company you genuinely loved was wanting to support you. Your race suit was so cool having an overall Blue Colour same to the Disney + sign. And then there were characters splattered across it, ranging from Mickey to Flounder the Fish.

You loved the car as well having a similar style to your race suit being the same shade of blue. And having the Disney Logo plastered on the side.

F1 Academy was to get young women into the eye of the motorsport media, and that'd exactly what you needed. You were driving at the level of an F2 racer, and hated the fact that no-one would progress you.

So, F1 Academy should get you in the picture.

Your first race was in Jeddah, which you stormed through, winning both races there. Celebrations were great on the podium in Race 1 with, Doriane Pin and Abbi Pulling in P2 and P3 and then Race 2 with Abbi Pulling and Maya Weug on the podium with you.

You and Abbi were the same age, both 21 and you'd competed in some other championships with her before when you were younger. So sharing a podium with her twice on the first race was very special.

You were close with all the girls in the F1 Academy but none of them had seen you race and were shocked with the 13 second gap on both your races.

After that and some testing in Germany, it was time for Miami. The minute you touched down on American Soil from Lewis' jet you were so excited. You flew out the week early and Disney as your sponsors drove you up to Orlando with Abbi and Jessica as your teammates in Rodin.

You spent the week before the race going to each park and filming it for content for both Disney, as your sponsor, AMEX where you used an American Express Credit Card for each purchase you guys made as Jessica's sponsor and obviously stuff for Alpine as Abbi's.

You were out of qualifying when Lia Block spun out and went into your car from a bump on track that was later investigated and starting from P16, right at the back of the grid.

You ended up coming P3, still on the podium having made some insane over-takes and had incredible tire management throughout which made it so that you only needed one pit-stop unlike the others with two.

When it came to the second race however, you won as your second fastest lap had been allowed, so sharing a podium with Bianca and Amna. You were very close with the two of them, despite having different sponsors and being from different teams, you guys all gelled really well.

You'd left Miami in P1 of the Drivers Championship with 92 points.

Then you were invited to the Monaco Grand Prix, it was an exciting opportunity where you got to meet a lot of the drivers and constructures who knew who you were.

You also got to meet some of the current F2 drivers, people who hoped would maybe be driving with you next year. Ollie Bearman was the kindest, expressing how driving in F1 was and that it was such an exciting opportunity for him and there were talks of him going to Haas next year to prepare him for the Ferrari seat.

Then you joined the F1 group in Barcelona. It was a circuit you'd driven at before in real life. Not just online in a sim.

However, despite the June sunshine it rained and the hadn't called the flag early enough for visibility. You didn't anticipate how early Lena was going to break and you ended up skidding off into the gravel to avoid her and your race was over, no points in race one for you.

However, despite that it was still raining and you managed to come P1.

In Zandvoort you had won both your races with a 15 second time gap behind you in race one and a 8 second gap in race 2. It was a straining track however, one of your best and you'd proven that.

It was at that point that you had three teams come to you. All of them were F1 Academy teams and were proposing 2025 F2 racing for you. You'd done F3, and yes F1 Academy was a downgrade because the car was slower, but you saw no other way to get yourself on the scene.

And it was working splendidly.

Rodin, your current team, Prema and Campos had all asked if you had any 2025 plans. They were to attempt finding a way into Endurance, Rally or do F3 again, but ... F2.

You accepted the offer to take Zane Maloney's seat who was, by this point pretty set to win the championship. Good Car, Good Driver.

It was said to be annonced in Singapore that you would move into F2, and you were so excited. However, you were made to sign an NDA and couldn't tell anyone about it. You were bursting at the seems to tell someone, anyone. It was such exciting news.

Singapore came, and it was announced on media day that you'd signed a contract with Rodin Motorsport and would be promoted to F2 finally.

"Lewis, what do you think on Y/N Y/L/N moving to F2, after this F1 Academy Season?" an interviewer asks and he smiles.

"I think that F1 Academy is doings it's job really well. I've been watching Y/N for a while and it's definitely long overdue getting her into F2!" he smiles.

"And what do you think on her being referred to as the female Max Verstappen? A lioness?" he asks further making Lewis laugh.

"I'd agree with that statement, she's very strong, very dominant in F1 academy like she was in F3 where she won her championship. I think seeing her in F2 and getting her to that step closer to F1, it's important" he smiles.

"Thank you Lewis, oh here lets talk to Max! Max!" the interviewer shouts over your male counterpart.

"Hello!" he nods fixing his Red Bull hat.

"We wanted to talk to you about Y/N Y/L/N!" he asks and Max looks confused for a second.

"Oh, the Academy Driver?" he asks rubbing the towel across his face from the humidity of Singapore.

"Yes! Did you hear the news of her being promoted to F2!" he asks and Max nods.

"Yeah, I'm proud of her and a lot of people don't know it yet, but she's got lots of F1 teams fighting to get them onto their driver academy. I'd love to have her as in the Red Bull Academy, to mentor her ... as my mini me" he smiles and the interviewers nods before talking to him about the weekend ahead.

"Lando, Oscar. Hello, how are you?!"

"Hello!" Lando grins cheesily, and Oscar nods politely.

"We've just been going round asking people about the current news going around the paddock!" the interviewer asks to see if the McLaren boys are keeping up with the latest news in the paddock.

"About Y/N?" Oscar smiles happily. He and Y/N were pretty close. They'd met at a race and Y/N had ended up stealing Lily for most of the day as they watched the race and ate food. Her and Lily became really close friend after that so it wasn't uncommon for him to see you around.

"Yes! Thoughts?"

"Well, I think it just goes to show how well the F1 Academy is working to promote these young female drivers and it makes me proud of my sport that we are moving forward this way. Y/N is an insane driver and I could see her joining F1 in the next few years as and when a seat comes up. I think getting her into F2 now is really really important and I'm proud of her and everything she's doing!" Lando explains.

"I agree with Lando, it's really important her making these connections and I think she's so loved on the motorsport community that even if she doesn't make it to F1 there will be other top driving series that will be gunning for her. I hope she does get into F1 though!"

He then heads over to Carlos who smiles kindly.

"Hello Carlos!" the interviewer asked looking towards him.

"Hello, how are you!" he asks politely.

"We've been talking to your colleagues about Y/N Y/L/N!" he replied cheerily forcing the mic closer to the Spanish man.

"Ahhh she has done well, no?" he smiles thinking of the cheeky young girl that always brought him a small Tupperware box of Chili Peppers whenever they had race crossovers.

"Yes, we've had a lor of people talk about her driving ability but she's always quite cheeky with you, am i right in saying that?" he asks and Carlos laughs.

"Ahhh yes Y/N is a funny girl. She deserves everything that she has worked for thus far and more, and one day I hope i am still around in F1 to race alongside her" he nods before his PR team usher him off.

"DANIELLLLL" the interviewer shouts having to have the other Aussie in his segment before he was cut short.

"Heyyy what's up mate!" he says with his big smile, that makes anyone feel like melted honey.

"Just wanted to see if you were aware of the news of Y/N Y/L/N!" he asks and Daniel's smile widens even more.

"Oh she's a great driver right. She deserves that place in F2, and I think this is a really good step for her and other women in motorsport, I'm excited to see her progression from her onwards!" he smiles.

You watched each interview of the F1 drivers talking about you and it made tears come to your eyes, just the kind words spoken by your future colleagues and competition... it doesn't get better than that.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[cutieln4]

Pure Chaos Pt. 2 | F1 smau

f1 grid x driver!reader

summary: just more chaotic moments with the gen-z driver

fc: lia block

part 1 part 3 part 4 part 5

[hurtblossom]

Crush ln4

Pairing : Lando Norris x Female!Reader

Summary : Quadrant has a new videographer

Warnings : Angst, quite long, bad english, Lando being clueless (as always)

(Y/N) couldn’t believe she was here—working for Quadrant, his brand. When she’d gotten the offer, she had hesitated for a moment, unsure if being this close to Lando Norris would be a good idea. She’d been a fan of his for years, following his career from his early F1 days, her admiration growing with every race and every glimpse of his playful, goofy personality online. Somewhere along the way, admiration had turned into something more—a quiet, unspoken crush she’d never dreamed of acting on.

But when the opportunity to join Quadrant as a videographer came up, she couldn’t resist. It was a chance to work with an incredible team, hone her skills, and, well, maybe get to know Lando a little better. Not that he’d notice her, she thought wryly. Lando Norris didn’t seem like the type to look twice at someone like her.

Her first day on set, she was practically buzzing with nerves. Max had introduced her to the team, and everyone had been friendly, welcoming her into the fold. But Lando? He hadn’t even glanced her way. Too busy cracking jokes with Max and Ria, his energy filling the room like a spotlight she could never step into.

Still, she stayed in the background, focusing on her work, capturing the chaos of the group with her camera. That was her job, after all—to be invisible, to let the team shine while she stayed behind the lens. She told herself it was better this way. No awkward introductions, no chance to embarrass herself. But even as she worked, she couldn’t help stealing glances at him, her heart skipping every time he laughed or flashed that signature grin.

The shoot that day was arcade basketball, and the Quadrant crew was in rare form—teasing, shouting, and turning everything into a competition. Lando was at the center of it all, of course, trash-talking Max one second and tossing a ball wildly off-target the next. (Y/N) stayed behind her camera, quietly capturing every moment, trying not to let her smile show too much.

It wasn’t until halfway through the shoot that Lando finally noticed her.

“Who’s that?” he asked loudly, pointing at her mid-throw. The basketball clattered off the rim as the rest of the group burst into laughter.

Max rolled his eyes. “She’s been here all day, mate. That’s (Y/N). She’s our new videographer.”

“New videographer?” Lando repeated, his brow furrowing. He walked over, tossing the ball to the side. “And no one told me?”

“I assumed you’d notice,” Max shot back with a grin.

Lando ignored him, stopping in front of her with an apologetic smile. “Hi. Sorry about that. I’m Lando. Welcome to Quadrant.”

She swallowed hard, clutching the camera like a lifeline. Up close, he was even more magnetic, his warm eyes and easy smile making her heart race. “Hi. I’m (Y/N),” she managed, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

“You’ve been filming this whole time?” he asked, tilting his head. “Wow, I didn’t even notice. That’s impressive.”

She blushed, ducking her head. “That’s kind of the goal.”

Lando chuckled. “Fair enough. Well, glad to have you. Hope you’re ready for this lot—they’re a handful.”

“She’s already handling it better than you would,” Ria teased, earning another round of laughter.

(Y/N) smiled, relaxing slightly as the group’s banter filled the room again. But as Lando walked back to his game, she couldn’t help feeling the way her cheeks burned, her mind replaying the brief moment they’d shared.

The rest of the shoot went smoothly, but (Y/N) found it increasingly hard to concentrate with Lando in her peripheral vision. Every joke he cracked, every time he glanced her way, she felt her heart skip a beat. She knew she was being ridiculous—he was just being friendly, just doing his job. But still, she couldn’t shake the tiny flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was something more.

After the shoot, as the team started packing up, Lando approached her again. “Hey, (Y/N),” he said casually, hands in his pockets. “Thanks for today. You did great.”

“Thanks,” she replied, smiling up at him. “You guys made it easy. You’re all… pretty entertaining.”

He grinned. “Entertaining, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

She laughed softly, feeling a bit bolder. “Well, I’ve seen worse basketball skills, if that helps.”

Lando gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow. First day and already roasting me. I like it.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she smiled back, her nerves melting under his playful energy. For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the room, the rest of the team fading into the background. But then Max called out, breaking the moment, and Lando gave her a quick nod before heading off, leaving her heart racing.

In the weeks that followed, (Y/N) settled into her role, quickly becoming an integral part of the team. She captured every wild moment, every inside joke, and every ridiculous stunt with precision, earning praise from everyone—including Lando. But the more time she spent around him, the harder it became to ignore her feelings.

He was just so… him. Funny, charming, effortlessly confident. She found herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t control, her quiet admiration growing with every shared laugh and fleeting glance.

But she kept her feelings hidden, afraid of what might happen if he found out. To him, she was just the camera girl, part of the team but always on the edges. And she told herself that was enough, even as her heart ached for more.

One evening, after a long day of filming, the team had dispersed, leaving just her and Lando in the studio. She was reviewing footage on her laptop when he wandered over, leaning against the table beside her.

“Got anything good?” he asked, peering at the screen.

She smiled, tilting the laptop so he could see. “Plenty of missed shots and bad jokes. Pretty standard.”

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “That’s Quadrant for you.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the footage play. But then Lando turned to her, his expression softer than usual. “You’ve been doing an amazing job, you know. I don’t think we’ve said that enough.”

Her heart fluttered at his words. “Thanks, Lando. That means a lot.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. “You’re really good at this, (Y/N). And… I’m glad you’re here.”

The sincerity in his voice took her by surprise, and she felt her cheeks warm under his gaze. She wanted to say something, to tell him how much his words meant, but the lump in her throat stopped her.

Instead, she smiled, her voice soft. “Thanks. I’m glad to be here.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, the air between them thick with unspoken words. But just as quickly as the moment had come, it passed, and Lando leaned back, flashing her a grin. “Alright, I’ll let you get back to it. Don’t make me look too bad in the edits, yeah?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No promises.”

As he walked away, her heart swelled with both happiness and longing. She knew she couldn’t let herself hope for more—not yet. But for now, she was content to stay behind the lens, capturing every moment, every laugh, every smile, knowing that even if he didn’t see her the way she saw him, at least she could be a part of his world.

Weeks had passed since (Y/N) had joined Quadrant, and every day felt like a mix of joy and heartbreak. Working alongside Lando was everything she’d dreamed of—he was kind, funny, and always made her feel like a part of the team. But the more time she spent with him, the more her crush deepened, and with it, the painful realization that he didn’t see her that way.

Still, she told herself it didn’t matter. Being close to him, even as just a colleague, was enough. Or at least, that’s what she kept repeating.

The team was gearing up for another shoot, and (Y/N) was already busy setting up the cameras and mics. Lando was running late, as usual, and the rest of the group was milling around, chatting and joking. When Lando finally arrived, he wasn’t alone.

“Guys, this is Magui,” he announced, stepping into the room with a confident grin. The girl beside him was striking—beautiful, with long, wavy hair and a radiant smile that seemed to light up the room. “She’s joining us for today’s video.”

(Y/N)’s heart sank the moment she saw them. Magui was clearly close to Lando; the way he stood next to her, the ease of their laughter, the little glances they exchanged—it was painfully obvious.

Max raised an eyebrow. “New guest star, huh? Fancy.”

Magui laughed, her voice warm and melodic. “I’m just here to make sure Lando doesn’t embarrass himself too much.”

“Good luck with that,” Ria quipped, earning a round of laughter.

(Y/N) forced a smile, keeping her head down as she fiddled with her equipment. Her chest felt tight, but she told herself it was nothing. Lando was free to bring whoever he wanted into the group—it wasn’t like she had any claim on him. But as she watched them banter, the way Lando’s face lit up every time Magui said something, the ache in her heart grew.

The video shoot was a nightmare for (Y/N). Not because of technical issues—everything went smoothly on that front—but because every moment felt like a knife twisting in her chest. Lando and Magui were front and center, their chemistry undeniable as they joked and competed with the rest of the team. Magui fit in effortlessly, her charisma matching Lando’s energy in a way that made it impossible to look away.

“Magui, you’ve got to beat him at this,” Max called out during one of the challenges, handing her the controller.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Magui said, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve got this.”

Lando laughed, leaning closer to her. “You think you can beat me? Good luck.”

Watching them, (Y/N) felt like an outsider. She stayed behind the camera, filming their interactions, capturing the moments that everyone else would find entertaining—but for her, it was torture. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like if she were the one standing next to him, sharing those laughs, being the one to catch his attention.

When the shoot finally wrapped up, (Y/N) was the first to start packing up her gear. She wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, before anyone noticed the strain on her face.

But as she was putting away the last of her equipment, Lando approached her, his usual grin in place. “Hey, (Y/N), thanks for today. You made us all look good as always.”

She forced a smile, avoiding his gaze. “Just doing my job.”

He tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “You okay? You’ve been quiet today.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, her voice clipped. “Just tired.”

Lando frowned, clearly not convinced, but before he could press further, Magui called out to him from across the room. “Lando! Come on, we’re heading out!”

He glanced back at (Y/N), hesitating for a moment before nodding. “Alright. See you later?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, watching as he walked away, his attention already back on Magui.

As the door closed behind them, (Y/N) sank into her chair, her hands trembling slightly. She told herself it was silly to feel this way, that she was just reading too much into things. But the truth was undeniable: she had fallen for Lando, and watching him with someone else felt like her heart was breaking in slow motion.

That night, (Y/N) sat in her small apartment, staring at the footage she’d captured earlier. She watched as Lando and Magui laughed, the way he looked at her with an ease and warmth that he’d never shown (Y/N). Her chest ached as she replayed the clips, over and over, the reality of the situation sinking in.

Lando didn’t see her. Not the way she wanted him to. To him, she was just the camera girl, the one who stayed in the background, capturing the moments that made him shine. And while she was proud of her work, proud to be a part of the team, she couldn’t help but feel invisible.

The next day, the Quadrant group chat was buzzing with messages about the next video, everyone chiming in with ideas and suggestions. Lando sent a message saying he wanted to bring Magui back for another shoot, and the rest of the team seemed thrilled.

(Y/N) stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She wanted to be happy for him, to support him the way she always had. But the thought of watching them together again, of filming moments that felt like they were cutting her open from the inside, was almost too much to bear.

Before she could overthink it, she typed out a quick message: “I’m feeling under the weather. Might need to sit this one out.”

Lando responded almost immediately. “That’s okay! Rest up. We’ll handle it.”

His words were kind, but they only made her feel worse. She wanted him to notice, to ask her what was wrong, to care. But he didn’t. And that, more than anything, told her what she needed to know.

As she set her phone down, tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. She’d known from the start that her crush on Lando was one-sided, but seeing it play out so clearly, so painfully, made it impossible to ignore.

For now, all she could do was step back, focus on her work, and remind herself that sometimes, even when you care deeply about someone, the best thing you can do is let them go.

~~~

(Y/N) took the next few days off, staying away from the group chat and ignoring messages from the team. She needed space—not just from Lando, but from the whole world of Quadrant that revolved around him. She threw herself into editing past footage, focusing on the technical details to distract herself from the pain still lodged in her chest.

But avoiding Lando was harder than she thought. Every video she edited, every laugh and playful insult she clipped together, reminded her of him. Of the warmth he brought into every room, of the little sparks of kindness he’d shown her when she thought, for just a moment, that he might see her as more than the girl behind the camera.

Two Weeks Later

(Y/N) was back on set, quietly filming another chaotic Quadrant shoot. Magui was there again, her presence bright and cheerful as always. She was every bit as perfect as (Y/N) had remembered—funny, confident, and effortlessly charming. And Lando? He seemed happier than ever, his energy electric whenever Magui was around.

(Y/N) did her best to stay in the background, focusing on her work and keeping her distance. But it didn’t take long for Lando to notice.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he called out during a break, jogging over to her as the others grabbed drinks. “You okay? You’ve been really quiet lately.”

She forced a smile, adjusting her camera to avoid looking at him directly. “I’m fine. Just busy.”

“Busy?” he repeated, frowning slightly. “You’ve barely said a word to anyone. Did I do something wrong?”

Her heart twisted at the concern in his voice. Of course, Lando would think it was about him, but not for the reason he’d assume. She shook her head quickly. “No, you didn’t do anything. I’ve just… had a lot on my mind.”

Lando studied her, his brows furrowing. “Are you sure? Because if there’s something bothering you, you can tell me.”

The sincerity in his tone made her throat tighten. She wanted to tell him—wanted to say everything she’d been holding back. But as she looked at him, his eyes filled with concern, she knew she couldn’t. He wasn’t hers to confide in. He never had been.

“I’m fine, Lando,” she said softly. “Really.”

He hesitated, clearly unconvinced, but before he could press further, Magui called out to him, waving him over. He glanced back at (Y/N), looking like he wanted to say more, but then turned and jogged toward Magui, his smile lighting up as he joined her.

(Y/N) watched them from behind the camera, the ache in her chest spreading like wildfire. She felt silly, pathetic even, for letting this affect her so much. But no matter how hard she tried to push it down, the pain refused to fade.

Later That Evening

The shoot had wrapped, and (Y/N) stayed behind to pack up her equipment while the others headed out for dinner. She’d made an excuse about needing to finish editing, though in truth, she just couldn’t bear to sit across from Lando and Magui, pretending everything was fine.

The studio was quiet, the only sound the hum of her laptop as she loaded the footage from the day. She tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting, the weight of everything she felt pressing down on her.

“Still here?”

The voice startled her, and she turned to see Lando standing in the doorway, his hoodie pulled up, his hair slightly messy from the day. He looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“I thought you were going to dinner with the others,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, stepping inside. “I was, but… I wanted to check on you first.”

She swallowed hard, looking down at her laptop. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” he said, leaning against the table beside her. “But I don’t believe you.”

His words made her chest tighten, and she felt the tears she’d been holding back threatening to spill. She shook her head, trying to keep her voice steady. “It’s nothing, Lando. Really. I’m just… tired.”

“(Y/N),” he said softly, his tone gentle but insistent. “Talk to me. Please.”

She looked up at him then, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, she considered telling him everything. But the thought of his reaction—of the awkwardness, the pity, the possibility of losing what little connection they had—stopped her.

“It’s not something you need to worry about,” she said instead, her voice cracking slightly. “Just… let it go.”

He didn’t move, his eyes searching hers, and for a moment, she thought he might push further. But then he nodded, stepping back. “Okay,” he said quietly. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

She watched as he left, the door closing softly behind him. And as the silence settled over her once again, the tears finally fell, her heart breaking under the weight of everything she couldn’t say.

A Week Later

The next video shoot was another big one, with the entire team involved, including Magui. (Y/N) tried to focus on her work, but it was harder than ever, especially with Lando and Magui’s playful chemistry on full display.

During a break, (Y/N) stepped outside for some air, her chest feeling tight. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and trying to steady her breathing.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Her eyes snapped open to see Lando standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his expression serious.

“I haven’t—”

“You have,” he interrupted gently, stepping closer. “And I don’t know why, but it’s been driving me crazy.”

She looked away, her heart pounding. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Stop saying that,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “You’re not fine, (Y/N). I can see it. And if it’s something I did—”

“It’s not you,” she blurted out, cutting him off.

He frowned, confused. “Then what is it?”

She hesitated, the words on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to say them. Instead, she shook her head, forcing a weak smile. “It’s nothing, Lando. Forget it.”

He stared at her for a long moment, his frustration clear. But before he could say anything else, Max called out for him from inside, breaking the moment.

Lando sighed, glancing toward the door. “This isn’t over,” he said softly before walking away.

As she watched him go, (Y/N) felt the weight of her unspoken feelings pressing down on her once again. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep this up, but one thing was clear: something had to change—whether it was her feelings for Lando or her place in his world.

And as the door closed behind him, she realized that letting go of Lando might be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do.

~~~

The decision didn’t come easily, but (Y/N) knew it was the right one. Every day with Quadrant had become a painful reminder of what she couldn’t have, of the unspoken feelings she carried for Lando and the unshakable knowledge that he didn’t feel the same. Watching him with Magui, seeing how naturally she fit into his world, was more than (Y/N) could handle. It was time to step back, to take care of herself before the weight of it all consumed her.

Reading his words brought tears to her eyes. She’d grown to love the team, their chaotic energy, and even the endless teasing. It wasn’t their fault she’d fallen for someone who didn’t see her the way she saw him. Still, she felt a pang of guilt as she hit send on her final reply.

~~~

She didn’t tell Lando directly. She wasn’t sure how, or if he’d even care. Max said he’d inform the team, and that felt like enough. Packing up her gear and stepping away from the studio for the last time was bittersweet. She lingered in the quiet space, memories of laughter and camaraderie playing in her mind.

As she locked the door behind her, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when Lando found out she was gone. Would he even notice? The thought lingered as she drove home, a mixture of sadness and relief washing over her.

Two Days Later

The first message came from Ria.

Ria: “What’s this about you leaving? Are you okay? Let me know if you need to talk.”

Then Max.

Max: “Hope you’re doing alright. The studio’s not the same without you.”

She responded to each of them, assuring them she was fine, that she just needed time. But the message she was dreading never came. Lando didn’t reach out—not a text, not a call. The silence was deafening, confirming what she’d feared all along: he didn’t notice. Or worse, he didn’t care.

Weeks Passed

(Y/N) threw herself into freelance work, taking on projects that let her focus on her craft without the emotional baggage that came with Quadrant. Slowly, the ache in her chest began to fade. She stopped checking their YouTube channel obsessively, stopped scrolling through photos of Lando and Magui together. She convinced herself that she was moving on.

But one evening, as she was editing late into the night, her phone buzzed with an unexpected notification.

Lando Norris: Hey. Can we talk?

Her heart skipped a beat, her fingers frozen over her keyboard. She stared at the message, a flood of emotions rushing in. She wanted to ignore it, to pretend she hadn’t seen it, but her curiosity—and the tiny flicker of hope she couldn’t extinguish—got the better of her.

(Y/N): Sure. What’s up?

The reply came almost instantly.

Lando: Are you free to meet? I’d rather do this in person.

Her stomach churned with nerves, but she agreed, setting a time and place for the next day. She spent the night replaying every possibility in her mind, trying to prepare herself for whatever he wanted to say.

~~~

They met at a quiet café, tucked away from the usual chaos of their lives. Lando was already there when she arrived, his hat pulled low, his expression uncharacteristically serious. He stood as she approached, offering her a small, hesitant smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Thanks for coming.”

She nodded, sitting down and folding her hands in her lap. “What’s this about, Lando?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Max told me you left.”

Her throat tightened, but she kept her voice steady. “I needed some time.”

“Why?” he asked, leaning forward, his gaze searching hers. “Did something happen? Was it… me?”

The vulnerability in his voice caught her off guard. She hesitated, unsure how to respond. “It wasn’t you, Lando. Not entirely.”

His brows furrowed. “Then what? You were such a big part of the team, (Y/N). I… I miss having you around.”

Her heart ached at his words, but she forced herself to stay grounded. “It’s complicated.”

“Then explain it to me,” he pressed, his voice soft but insistent. “Because I feel like I missed something, and I don’t want to keep missing it.”

She met his gaze, the weight of everything she’d held back pressing down on her. Taking a deep breath, she finally spoke.

“I liked you, Lando,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I liked you more than I should have, and it made things… hard. Watching you with Magui, being part of the team but always on the outside—it hurt. So I left, because I couldn’t keep doing that to myself.”

His eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face. For a moment, he said nothing, and she braced herself for the rejection she knew was coming.

“I had no idea,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought… I thought you just didn’t want to get close.”

She shook her head, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I couldn’t get close, Lando. Not when you didn’t see me the way I saw you.”

He leaned back, running a hand over his face. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. And Magui… she’s just a friend. I never realized how it must have looked.”

She blinked, his words taking a moment to register. “Just a friend?”

He nodded, his expression earnest. “I didn’t… I don’t feel that way about her. I didn’t even know you felt this way about me.”

Silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken possibilities. Lando reached across the table, his hand brushing hers lightly.

“Is it too late to fix this?” he asked softly.

(Y/N) looked at him, her heart torn between hope and fear. She didn’t know the answer, but for the first time in weeks, she felt the faintest spark of possibility. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late to rewrite their story.

please comment and let me know what you thought of the story

[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.”

[mythicalmaven]

hiya! Could i please have number 1 with charles leclerc from the prompt list please? Extra smutty with a super needy reader please xxx

Racing Pulse - Charles LeClerc (request)

Masterlist ↳pairing: charles leclerc x female!driver!reader ↳word count: 1,9K ↳prompts used: 1 - 'Use my thigh" ↳warnings: reader is an f1 academy driver, charles and her are friends, thigh riding, voyeurism (kind of? if you count charles letting her use his thigh), masturbation (sort of) ↳summary: The reader is a driver for the f1 academy & finds herself very very sexually frustrated before the race, leading to Charles offering her a way to relief herself.

The roar of engines echoes through the garage, a constant reminder of the race ticking closer with every passing second. But no matter how hard you try to focus, your mind keeps wandering, pulled back to the gnawing frustration that’s been simmering beneath the surface. You’re pacing, restless, the usual pre-race jitters replaced by something far more distracting. You’re wound so tight you think you might snap, and it’s only making the tension worse.

Just as you were about to kick against the wall, you catch Charles watching you from across the room. His eyes narrow, noticing your agitation, and before you can look away, he’s already making his way over, concern laced in his steady stride. “You look like you’re about to combust,” he says, his voice pitched low, so only you can hear. “What’s going on?”

You roll your eyes, trying to brush off his teasing, but the tension inside you only tightens. "Nothing, nothing," you huff, attempting to sound normal, but the frustration seeps through. "Everything is going peachy."

Charles raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Yeah, totally, that's why you were about to kick a table, huh?" he quips, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

A frustrated sigh escapes you, and you run a hand through your hair, the pent-up energy making it impossible to stay still. "Okay, fine," you admit, glancing around to make sure no one else is within earshot. "I'm just... sexually frustrated, alright?"

He blinks, then a laugh bubbles out of him, not mocking but genuinely amused by your candid confession. "Seriously? That’s what’s got you all twisted up?"

You huff again, this time more at yourself than at him. "Yes, Charles. And it’s driving me insane. And no, I’m not joking."

His laughter fades, but the smile remains, a little softer now. "I could help with that, you know," he says, surprising you with the seriousness in his tone.

You furrow your brow, tilting your head to the side. "Do you, though? I mean, this isn’t just some casual frustration. I need... well, you know."

Charles steps closer, his expression unreadable, but his eyes are locked on yours. "Yeah, I know," he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. As he looked at you, leaning against the wall, he moved to the table near you, leaning against it with his backside, his hands behind him on the table to hold him up.

You blink, processing his words. "Wouldn't it be weird," you start, hesitating slightly, "You know, most friends don’t just... do that. And besides, we don't even have time to go anywhere private, the race is starting soon"

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. "Friends are supposed to help each other out, aren’t they?"

You open your mouth to protest, but he’s pulling you in by your wrist, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And even if you let me help, you wouldn’t have to go anywhere."

You raise an eyebrow, confusion flickering across your face. "Charles, how—?"

"Use my thigh," he murmurs, his tone calm but with an edge of something darker. His gaze flickers to the shadows around you, the secluded corner of the garage where the angle and low light provide a surprising amount of privacy. "No one would be able to see from here. And with the noise out there, it’ll just look like we’re talking, getting close to hear each other better."

Your breath catches, the idea sparking something deep within you. The tension that’s been gnawing at you suddenly has an outlet, and the suggestion is as thrilling as it is scandalous.

For a moment, you hesitate, the absurdity of the situation battling with the undeniable pull of desire. But Charles's gaze is steady, reassuring, and there's something in the way he looks at you—like this is just another challenge, another hurdle to overcome together.

You swallow hard, nodding ever so slightly. The moment the decision is made, Charles shifts closer, his hands finding your waist as he guides you to straddle his thigh. The heat of his body seeps through the fabric of your suit, and the tension you’ve been battling for hours seems to tighten and ease all at once.

“Just relax,” Charles murmurs, his voice low and husky, the vibration of his words sending a shiver down your spine. He pulls you closer until you’re pressed up against him, the thickness of his thigh positioned perfectly between your legs. “No one can see a thing, I promise.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as his hands settle on your hips. He gives an experimental roll of his thigh, and the friction against your clothed core draws a sharp gasp from your lips. The sensation is maddening, just enough to stoke the fire that’s been smoldering inside you, but not nearly enough to satisfy.

Charles chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your ear. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “I can feel how much you need this.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet, but he’s relentless. His hands guide your movements, encouraging you to grind against him, each subtle shift sending sparks of pleasure through your body. The friction is delicious, the pressure just right, and it’s all the more intense because of how forbidden it feels, knowing anyone could walk by at any moment.

“Charles,” you breathe out, your voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and disbelief. You feel him lean in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Let go,” he murmurs, his tone dropping to a seductive rumble. “No one can hear you over the engines. No one’s watching. It’s just us.”

His words are your undoing. You start to move with more purpose, pressing down harder, seeking out that sweet spot that will tip you over the edge. Charles tightens his grip on your hips, guiding you with a slow, deliberate rhythm that’s both torturous and perfect.

You begin to rock your hips against Charles’s thigh, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. The need that’s been gnawing at you for days flares up, making you desperate, and you can’t help but lean your head on his shoulder, seeking the comfort of his warmth as you move. Each grind sends a wave of heat rushing through you, and you cling to him, trying to suppress the whimpers that threaten to escape.

Charles’s breath hitches slightly, but he stays composed, his hands steady on your hips as he guides your movements. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, lips brushing against your ear. “So needy, so desperate… What’s got you so worked up like this?”

You let out a small, frustrated whine, your voice strained with need. “I-I haven't really had.. any sex lately,” you admit, your words barely a whisper as you press yourself harder against him, trying to find the relief you crave.

Charles chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Poor thing,” he coos, a teasing edge to his tone. “You know, I could always help you with that… if you want. All you have to do is say the word.”

You bite your lip, suppressing a moan as the pleasure builds, the fabric of your clothes rubbing deliciously against your throbbing core. The wetness between your legs is undeniable now, soaking through your panties, your racing suit and onto his thigh. You know he can feel it too, and the realization only makes you grind down harder, your desperation growing with every passing second.

A small, breathless moan escapes you, and in a desperate attempt to stifle the sound, you lean in and bite down lightly on Charles’s shoulder. His grip on your hips tightens, a soft groan escaping his lips as you continue to grind against him.

“Charles, I need more,” you whimper, the words slipping out in a moment of vulnerability. Your voice is heavy with desperation, your body trembling with the effort to find release.

Charles’s breath is warm against your ear as he leans in closer. “Oh, chérie, I’d give you everything you want, mon amour,” he whispers, his voice like velvet. “But you don’t have time, remember? You have a race to win.”

His words are a cruel tease, and the ache between your legs only intensifies. He continues to guide your movements, setting a slow, torturous rhythm that keeps you on the edge, but never lets you fall over it.

“If we had the time,” Charles murmurs, his tone dark and seductive, “I’d have you spread out in front of me, completely bare. I’d take my time with you, taste every inch of you until you’re begging for more.”

Your breath hitches at his words, the vivid image sending a fresh wave of arousal crashing through you. You can’t help but glance down, your eyes widening slightly when you see the clear outline of his erection straining against his jeans. The sight of him, hard and ready beneath you, only spurs you on, and you quicken your pace, grinding down on him with more urgency.

Charles’s breath grows heavier, his chest rising and falling with each ragged inhale. “God, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice laced with need. “I love seeing you like this, so desperate, so willing to take what you need.”

Just as you feel yourself getting close, the heat building to a fever pitch, someone walks past, calling out a quick greeting. You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest as you fight to keep your breathing steady. Charles’s hands tighten on your hips, holding you still as he nods in acknowledgment, a casual smile on his face as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

Once the person is out of sight, Charles relaxes, letting out a breath he’s been holding. “We have to be careful,” he whispers, his tone a mix of warning and thrill. “Can’t have anyone catching us, can we?”

Without waiting for your response, he resumes the slow, deliberate grind, guiding you back into that maddening rhythm. The brief interruption only heightens the intensity, and you find yourself clinging to him, desperate for release.

“Come on,” Charles whispers, his voice both encouraging and commanding. “Go for it. I want to see you fall apart for me.”

His words, combined with the relentless friction and the feeling of his hard thigh pressing against you, push you closer to the edge. You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your body straining for that sweet release.

“I’m… I’m close,” you manage to gasp out, your voice trembling as the pleasure becomes almost unbearable.

Charles responds by leaning in, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck in a barely-there kiss. To anyone watching, it would seem as if he’s simply whispering something to you, but the intimacy of the gesture makes your heart race even faster.

“Come for me, mon amour,” he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. “I want to feel you let go.”

The combination of his words, the sensation of his lips on your neck, and the relentless pressure between your legs sends you spiraling over the edge. Your body tenses, a sharp cry escaping your lips as the orgasm crashes through you, waves of pleasure radiating out from your core. You bury your face in Charles’s shoulder, biting down on his jacket to muffle the sound, your entire body trembling with the intensity of it.

Charles’s hands hold you steady, guiding you through every pulse and shudder, his voice a soothing murmur in your ear. “That’s it,” he whispers, his tone filled with a mix of pride and desire. “Good girl. Let it all out.”

Masterlist

[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.

[papaya-queen]

Papaya Princess – Y/N x Grid dad!Landoscar

When Oscar and Lando adopt the new McLaren development driver.

Oscar and Lando are already together at the beginning. Y/N is 16 years old.

<3

McLaren

McLaren welcome to the family Y/N Y/L/N. She will join F1Academy with PREMA racing as a McLaren development driver. You can also find her in the Italian F4 championship with the same team.

Comments:

User McLaren must have a special requirement in their contract because how are all their drivers so cute?!

Oscarpiastri AUSSIE, AUSSIE, AUSSIE

               User he’s so happy to have some Australian support with him

               Yourusername I mean, we must fight back the colonizers (@landonorris 👀)

User MORE GIRLS IN MOTORSPORTS!!

Landonorris welcome to fam kiddo

User wait she looks familiar…

               User I’m not alone!

<3

<3

Yourusername

Yourusername First F1Academy weekend – good results for the team. I still need to adapt to the car. Looking forward to the next weekend in Imola for F4. PS: thanks to those two weird guys who supported me during the races.

Comments:

User no way they really came to see her

               User Yeah, they definitely weren’t here for her

               User she just wants the attention that comes with them

Prema_team good weekend little tigress 🐯

McLaren 🧡

Dion.gowda see you next week! :)

<3

<3

Yourusername

Yourusername AMAZING weekend in Imola, podium in 2 races and a rookie win! I had so much fun! Thanks team and thanks boys for the support, celebrations and fun we had (but not thank you for all the champagne in my hair 😭)!

Comments:

Tomass_stolcermanis amazing weekend for you! Next time let us win a little…

Oscarpiastri So proud of you! <3

               Yourusername thank youuuu

Landonorris if any of those boys annoys you, tell me and it will end.

               Yourusername please don’t kill my friends

User not Lando playing the protective dad 😭

Alexpowellracing I don’t feel safe anymore in this comment section 😭

               Dion.gowda same

               Kean.nakamura.berta same

               User Lando really scared the f4 boys 😭

<3

Oscarpiastri

Oscarpiastri had a great time in Imola with the family, thanks little bean for the amazing show we saw

Comments:

User well that’s a way to launch your adoption

               User what do you mean launch, everyone knew for weeks now

User landoscar on the main!!!!!

Landonorris thanks love 🧡

               User they’re too cute

Yourusername thanks dad <3

               User the McLaren fam is so sweet

<3

<3

Yourusername

Yourusername Happy Father’s Day to my amazing grid dads. Thank you for guiding me in the world of motorsport, for the support this year and the great time that we have together!

Comments:

User I’m tearing up, they’re so cute

Landonorris thanks you princess you’re the best grid daughter ever

Oscarpiastri 🧡

Alexpowellracing guess I’m gonna cry in the corner without a grid dad 😭

               Logansargeant American boys alliance?

Charles_leclerc does that make me a grandad?

               Yourusername yes grampa

               User Charles Leclerc, grampa at 26

Dion.gowda it’s not fair, why does she have 2 grid dad when I have 0 😭

               Yourusername stop being jealous of my amazing family

<3

Oscarpiastri & Landonorris

Oscarpiastri didn’t expect a Father’s Day gift at 23 but life, you know

Comments are restricted

Yourusername 🧡🧡

<3

Yourusername

Yourusername The end of a chapter. Finishing P2 in the rookie competition, P5 in general, I couldn’t dream of more. Thanks Prema and McLaren for giving me this amazing chance. Thanks, dads, for the support during the season. Thank you, boys, for creating some core memory with me during the year. We had the time of our life!

Comments:

User that’s our girl!!

Landonorris love you little champion 🧡

Oscarpiastri aiming for P1 next year?

               Yourusername of course ;)

Prema_team that’s our tigress

User she’s so talented it’s amazing

Alexpowellracing amazing season with you, hoping we’re still in the same championship next year :)

               Landonorris calm down little boy

Kean.nakamura.berta the only person I let win

               Yourusername I was ahead of you 99% of the time

               Kean.nakamura.berta that’s still 1% where I’d let you pass

<3

<3

private.Y/N

private.Y/N Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me ♥️

Comments:

private.alex 🧡🧡

private.oscar aww young love

private.lando okay yeah I understand (alex if you do anything wrong...)

private.dion stop reminding me that i'm single 😭😭

private.kean wait Alex's not dead ?

               private.tomass he somehow survived lando

               private.alex that's because of my amazing charm

               private.y/n i love you alex but no i just battled for him

[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.”

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

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.

[cutieln4]

Pure Chaos | F1 smau

f1 grid x driver!reader

summary: you're the first woman in modern formula 1. and you're gen z. that makes you just a little bit chaotic

fc: lia block

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

yourusername

Liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri, and others

yourusername i'm here and ready to terrorize the grid!!

View all comments

username1 i love her already

alex_albon oh😀

landonorris mate i'm scared, your teammate is crazy

oscarpiastri Not me though, right?

yourusername we'll see😊

username2 oh- that's not...

username3 you'll probably take them all out in turn 1

yourusername i wish i could take YOU out in turn 1

williamsracing pls delete

username4 they're already trying to pr train my girl😣

[hurtblossom]

Lover ln4

Pairing : Lando Norris x Female!Reader

Summary : In the middle of heartbreak and unspoken feelings, (Y/N) finds her place both behind the camera and in Lando Norris’s life, as they cautiously build a connection worth risking everything for.

Warning : Nothing, just fluff

Part 2 to this

The weeks after Lando’s confession felt surreal. (Y/N) wasn’t sure what to expect after their conversation at the café. It wasn’t as though everything could change overnight—she was still cautious, her heart too bruised to let down all its defenses. But Lando seemed to understand that. He didn’t push. Instead, he found little ways to show her he meant what he’d said.

One evening, as she sat editing footage from their latest shoot, her phone buzzed with a notification. It was Lando.

Lando: What’s the best pizza topping combo? Lando: Asking for a very important debate.

She smiled, shaking her head.

(Y/N): Margarita. Classic and unbeatable. (Y/N): Why?

His response came almost instantly.

Lando: Wrong answer. Lando: Pineapple is the GOAT. Lando: Max agrees. Lando: Ria thinks we’re all insane. Lando: Also, I just wanted to check in. Lando: How’s your night?

Her smile faltered for a moment, her chest tightening at the unexpected warmth in his words. He didn’t have to do this—reach out to her, make her feel seen. But he did.

(Y/N): Busy, but good. Thanks for asking. You?

Lando: Better now that I know you’re not buried in stress. Lando: Don’t stay up too late, yeah?

It was a small exchange, but it left her heart lighter. She didn’t want to admit it, but maybe, just maybe, Lando was trying to prove he cared in ways she hadn’t dared to hope for.

~~~

The next Quadrant shoot was a return to the ridiculous antics the team was known for—a blindfolded cooking challenge. (Y/N) arrived early, as usual, setting up her cameras and prepping the equipment. She was adjusting the lighting when Lando walked in, his hair slightly messy, a lazy grin on his face.

“Morning, chef,” he teased, stopping beside her. “Ready to document the greatest culinary disaster of our time?”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “If by ‘greatest’ you mean ‘most unappetizing,’ then absolutely.”

His grin widened, and he leaned closer, lowering his voice. “You know, I’m pretty sure I can bribe you for some favorable edits. Just say the word.”

“Bribe me with what? Pineapple pizza?” she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He clutched his chest dramatically. “You wound me. But yes, pineapple pizza. It’s the ultimate peace offering.”

Their playful banter caught the attention of the others, who immediately started teasing.

“Oi, Lando, stop flirting and get over here!” Max called out, earning a round of laughter from the crew.

(Y/N) felt her cheeks warm, but Lando seemed unfazed, flashing her a quick wink before heading to join the chaos. She watched him go, her heart fluttering despite her best efforts to stay grounded.

Quiet Moments

The shoot was a success—messy, chaotic, and hilarious, as always. But it was the quiet moments afterward that lingered in her mind.

While the rest of the team celebrated their “culinary masterpieces” in the lounge, (Y/N) stayed behind in the studio, packing up her gear. She was stacking tripods when Lando walked in, a takeaway box in hand.

“Figured you’d still be here,” he said, holding out the box. “Saved you some food. Don’t worry, no pineapple.”

She blinked, surprised. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged, his expression casual but his tone warm. “I wanted to. You always take care of us, so… someone’s gotta look out for you too.”

Her chest tightened, and she accepted the box with a soft “thank you.” They sat together on the edge of the stage, the studio quiet around them.

“You’ve been quieter lately,” he said after a moment, glancing at her. “Not just today—since you came back. Is it… because of me?”

She hesitated, fiddling with the corner of the box. “It’s not you, Lando. Not exactly. I just… I’m still figuring out where I fit in all this.”

“You fit,” he said firmly, his gaze steady. “More than you know.”

The sincerity in his voice made her throat tighten. She wanted to believe him, but the lingering insecurities were hard to shake. Still, his words stayed with her long after they left the studio that night.

~~~

Weeks passed, and (Y/N) began to notice subtle changes in their dynamic. Lando seemed to go out of his way to include her, whether it was during shoots or group outings. He started inviting her to lunch with the team, pulling her into conversations, even teasing her on camera—moments that often left her flustered but secretly thrilled.

One afternoon, during a rare day off, he texted her out of the blue.

Lando: Fancy a karting rematch? Lando: I promise not to go easy on you this time.

The memory of their last impromptu race—a chaotic, laughter-filled mess where she’d somehow beaten him—brought a smile to her face.

(Y/N): Rematch? (Y/N): You’re just mad you lost to me.

Lando: Exactly. Lando: My pride is on the line. Lando: Meet me at 3?

She hesitated for a moment before typing her reply.

(Y/N): You’re on.

When she arrived at the track, he was already there, leaning casually against a kart. He greeted her with a grin, his competitive energy infectious.

The race was as ridiculous as she’d expected, filled with trash talk, near collisions, and plenty of laughter. When she crossed the finish line—barely ahead of him—she threw her arms up in victory.

“Two for two,” she teased, removing her helmet. “You’re losing your touch, Norris.”

He laughed, pulling off his own helmet. “You’ve got a lucky streak, that’s all. Next time, it’s over for you.”

But as they stood there, still catching their breath, his expression softened. “Thanks for coming out today. I needed this.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, the vulnerability in his tone catching her off guard. “Me too,” she admitted quietly.

A Confession Revisited

The real turning point came one evening after a late shoot. The team had gone out to celebrate, but (Y/N) stayed behind, finishing up some last-minute edits. She was so focused on her laptop that she didn’t notice Lando until he spoke.

“You’re always working,” he said, his voice warm.

She looked up, startled to see him standing in the doorway. “I could say the same about you.”

He grinned but didn’t respond, stepping closer until he was standing beside her. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence filled with unspoken tension.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he began, his tone careful. “About why you left.”

Her stomach twisted, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. “Lando, you don’t have to—”

“I do,” he interrupted gently. “Because I hate that I made you feel like you didn’t matter. You do, (Y/N). You always have.”

Her breath caught, and she looked away, her heart pounding.

“I know I was blind before,” he continued, his voice soft but insistent. “But I see you now. And if you’re willing to give me a chance, I’d like to prove it.”

She stared at him, her emotions a whirlwind of hope and fear. “Lando… what if this doesn’t work? What if it changes everything?”

“Then we’ll figure it out,” he said simply, his gaze steady. “But I think it’s worth the risk. Don’t you?”

For a long moment, she said nothing, the weight of his words settling over her. But then, slowly, she nodded, a tentative smile breaking through her uncertainty.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I think it is.”

The smile that spread across his face was brighter than she’d ever seen, and for the first time, (Y/N) felt like she wasn’t just behind the lens anymore. She was finally part of the story.

In the weeks that followed, their relationship grew slowly but surely, filled with small, meaningful moments—quiet conversations, shared laughter, and the steady reassurance that they were building something real. And though (Y/N) still carried traces of her old insecurities, Lando’s unwavering support made her believe that maybe, just maybe, she’d found her place—not just in the team, but in his heart.

taglist : @landossainz , @carloswife , @scopeiguess , @stylesmoonlight12 , @raynetargaryan2 , @rawr-123s-stuff , @myescapefromthislife , @nxk1309 , @bbg-blue-lock , @spooky-librarian-ghost , @lisa24x

[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

liked by dinobeganovic and 1938 others

[ 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!!

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liked by arthurleclerc, gabrielemini and 124.525 others

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

[n0vazsq]

Unstoppable | GB5 x Reader

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

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

request . . . no!!

word count . . . 1.1k

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Together, you were unstoppable.

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

[letterlitter]

Blanket Warm

Lando Norris x F1 academy driver reader

Wordcount: 1k

Tags: fluff

•in which you become unwell after a racing accident and Lando is determined to take care of you.

"Two weeks off the track. Start physiotherapy on week two, then come back to see me. Hopefully you'll be back to racing in no time." The team's doctor smiled and handed you your prescription, along with a paper that said you had to rest and weren't in a condition to race.

Now you were at home all day, trying to keep yourself busy but there wasn't much to be done. Only if you'd been more careful during testing for the F1 academy. The crash wasn't that hard and it didn't ruin the car's livery much, but it sent it spinning several times to finally hit the wall, causing you to strain a neck muscle quite hard. You were okay during the check up, but how you tumbled around whith every step after getting out of bed the next morning scared you.

Lando, who had ran after you to keep you from falling, insisted to drive you to the doctor when the dizziness didn't get better after a couple of hours like you had said to convince him it's nothing. So there you were, having nowhere to go and nothing to do. Thankfully the F1 season hadn't started yet, so you and Lando had the house all to yourself after the briefing session he had to attend. Except, this was no regular holiday.

---****---

"No no, you need to sit down." Lando told you as he pulled you to the couch when he saw you stumbling while trying to make dinner. "I'll take care of things."

"Lando you can't cook" you smiled sarcastically, "I can do it."

Lando gave you a sassy side eye, "what did you say?"

"Well can you? Cook?"

He stood in a defeated silence and finally replied "okay I can't. But I can carry myself. I've got the internet and everything."

You sighed in disagreement.

"Come on babe. I am not letting you do anything. I may not be able to cook but no offence, you're not able to stand straight."

You bit the inside of your cheeks to hide your laughter.

"If you want to get better and go back soon, you have to listen to the doctor."

He waited and stared at you until you agreed. You couldn't resist those ocean blue puppy eyes anyway. And he was correct.

"Alright." You sighed, "but I will sit in the kitchen and tell you what to do."

"Oh no you won't." Lando stood up and pulled your arm to himself, threw it over his shoulder and lifted your body off the couch like firemen do; Making you squeak in surprise, "you're not doing anything but rest sweetheart. Let's get you to bed."

He finally put you on the bed, tucked you in, and you could tell moving you up the stairs was a little bit of a workout for his tiny, F1 driver arms. He didn't complain and you didn't either. It made your heart warm to see how he cared about your well being and the lengths he would go to to make sure you were alright. You were willing to do the same for him any day.

"Get some more sleep. I'll come and wake you up when everything's ready okay?"

Lando responded to your under breath "whatever you say" with a kiss on the forehead and left you to the silence of the room.

When you woke up two hours later, the smell of fried beef and cheese had came up all the way to your room. Surprisingly, it didn't smell as if something was burned or nasty.

Lando walked in all of a sudden with a big tray, pushing the door open with his back,

"Oh shit you're awake." He went right back out, making you laugh.

He came back empty handed and stood right next to your bed.

"Madam..." he helped you sit up eventhough you were capable of doing so yourself. Your head wasn't that dizzy but he still wanted to make sure everything is well.

Lando, who had wrapped a napkin around his waist stood infront of you like a waiter, "now that you are awake my dear lady, dinner will be served." He went back out and grabbed the tray he had left on the floor.

"I couldn't do a longer intro I was afraid it would get cold." And he put the tray on the bed beside you. He had made lasagna.

"Oh wow. Very well executed sir." You wanted to go along with the theme he started.

"Than you madam. Hopefully you'll like it. First..." he handed you the wet towel he had brought. He knew you hated eating before washing your hands and face after you wake up.

"Let's see." You lifted your fork and started slicing the piece.

"Hmmm, this is great Lando."

He smiled with satisfaction. You had never complimented him on his cooking before.

"It's a bit salty to be fair but how the hell did you do this?"

"My mom, a really long video call, many many dirty dishes and one broken one."

You smiled. It was the best you could ask for. Your boyfriend who cares for you, your house you could rest in, and so much comfort. Your life had been passing on such a fast track lately that you couldn't step back to appreciate the little things that were yours. This injury, how frustrating it was, had made you realize how grateful you are for the people who love you.

"What about you?" You said with you mouth half full.

"Oh I have tasted everything so many damn times I am completely full. No no really, that's all yours. My mom kept asking me to describe the taste for her like it's a competition."

You laughed "Well. I think you have won."

"I don't think you would say that if you saw what's going on downstairs."

---****---

The next 10 days went by really quickly. You were trying to get better and Lando was doing his best to keep your dizzy head entertained.

He would help you get dressed, tie your shoes, brush your hair and sit down on the couch to watch a movie with you. He would make you hot chocolate and give you your medication; and when the physiotherapy was due, he would message your neck gently like the doctor had taught him. He kept making you food and finally agreed to get some help from you when he almost burned down the kitchen.

And all he replied when you thanked him was "anything for my girl."

You finally reached full recovery a little sooner than two weeks. The doctor told you "everything seems in place. You must've had quite a good rest."

"I had a good care taker." You replied, looking at your boyfriend with a loving smile.

He really, really was one.

[dedeinthewild]

pepe martì x reader, intrusive thoughts

~ from hand scribbles series (tell me an oddly specific situation/state of mind and I'll rec/write a fic about it)

"Oh—uh—sorry. Intrusive thoughts."

situation : do you ever think about how sweet and gentle the other person is when trying to match your height? and how much their neck just seems so kissable?

-Dos polos, por favor.-

The sun had been scorching all day, and although the beach wasn't noisy, there were a few kids playing with a ball, slapping the waves with bright, beautiful smiles. It was a special time in Barcelona, when most of the young people had gone on vacation elsewhere, and many families had decided to go to the mountains, leaving the beach almost empty, except for a few groups who kept the music low and spent the day enjoying each other's company.

She and Pepe had spread out a towel, dropping their things on the sand, quickly removing their shirts and shorts like people who had no other worries and diving into the water, holding their breath against the cooler September ocean.

The driver had come up with the idea to go to the beach when he brought her to Barcelona for one of the last Red Bull events he had to attend. She pretended not to love it, just to see the look on his face when he realized that she had actually enjoyed it—almost like it wasn’t clear under the sun how happy she was to watch him do his thing.

-Gracias,- he looked up from his popsicle wrapper, a half-step behind her, lingering on the warm smile the man behind the counter gave her as she tried speaking in their language—with those cheeks full of lightness Pepe dreamed of and those special eyes, tickled by the rebellious, salt-sprayed hair that fell over her shoulders.

-I may be envying your accent,- he teased with a gentle smile as they walked outside, the only sounds in the air, besides the distant music and the waves, being the crinkle of plastic as they tossed their wrappers into a trash bin, squinting at the sun that was starting to set, reminding them it was time for a snack.

-It’s the worst,- she laughed, standing beside him, the breeze from the ocean tugging her hair back, revealing her soft features.

-I think it’s cute, actually,- Pepe bit into his popsicle, careful not to let the sticky tropical flavor drip down onto his chin. It was his favorite flavor, one he’d loved since he was a child.

Pepe didn’t need to look at her. He had every detail of her memorized in his brown irises, and he knew exactly what was going through her mind at that moment. She had always been one of those people who cared deeply for the people around her, who felt most fulfilled when she could spend a simple, carefree day with them—talking about a childhood she could never get back and a future so close she could almost touch it. She was one of those people who craved moments, yet missed them while they were still happening. And there she was, standing, wrapped in a sarong around her waist—something she’d been insecure about many times, but with him, it was the last thing on her mind. She stood there, breathing softly, the breeze making the light fabric of her sarong dance, while the sunlight tinted her skin just a bit too much, making her think of how much she disliked the sun, but the smell of sunscreen made her feel at home.

He’d learned to appreciate that expression on her face, and it would always be magical to him. It was like the look on your mom’s face when you tell her about something amazing you’ve done, and she’s so proud of you it shows in every line of her face. Or the expression on your older sister’s face when you tell her you helped someone, and her pride radiates from her. It was like hearing a song too many times, but it always had the same effect on him.

-Say something in Spanish,- he told her, taking another bite of his popsicle.

-Why?- she asked, eating her popsicle slowly, trying not to make a mess with it.

-Because I like it,- he smiled, looking down at the little seashells at their feet, washed up by the ocean but left unbroken.

-Eres muy molesto, Pepe,- she laughed, looking up at him from the bottom of their significant height difference, making her already sweet face even cuter.

And she couldn’t say something like that to him, expecting him not to laugh at the obvious misunderstanding of the phrase in Spanish, which could easily be interpreted in a negative way.

-Pero te encanta, ¿a que sí?- he looked at her, with one of those laughs that made you want to laugh along, fixing his gaze on hers as if she were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She had a little popsicle drip on her lips, looking so young.

-Tal vez,- she didn’t look away, biting the inside of her cheek to hide the smirk that was creeping up from her chest as she heard how Pepe’s voice dropped when he said that.

The air smelled like salt, and seafood from the nearby restaurants started to drift through the breeze, preparing for the evening’s service, while a group of boys a little farther down from them had grabbed a guitar and were strumming it, chewing on their popsicle sticks, improvising lyrics to a song they didn’t know by heart. And at that moment, she understood why the Spaniard felt at home there, why he loved coming here when he visited Barcelona. Because this place felt like youth. Like having too many worries, yet none at all. Like knowing what the future would bring, yet having no idea at the same time.

-Dilo otra vez,- he said.

-What, ‘maybe’?- she asked, as they continued walking, playfully nudging each other with their hands and feet, stumbling a little but laughing loudly in the middle of Barcelona.

-No. Anything. Just—keep talking,- he suggested, looking at the horizon, trying to let her know that he didn’t just like hearing her try to speak in his language. He loved hearing the way she finished her sentences with a slight question in her tone, almost as if asking for his approval, and the fact that it was her speaking made it even better.

She started saying something, looking down as she tied her hair with the elastic she’d kept in the crook of her elbow, her skin still warm from the sun, her voice growing more confident. But the ocean had other plans, and with the sound of a wave crashing against the pier, accompanied by the voices of the boys nearby, it stole her voice.

Pepe lowered himself slightly, bringing his face closer to hers so he could hear her better, with such a soft, disarming sweetness that it made her stop in her tracks for a moment, stealing her breath away with the minty scent of his skin. His slightly olive-toned skin highlighted his squared jaw, which wasn’t too prominent, and framed his face in harmony, along with his smooth, black hair that fell gently onto his pilot’s neck. The way he had crossed his arms behind his back, completely focused on her, letting go of the distance between them like there was nothing else but them at that moment.

And in that moment, it happened. Yes, it happened.

Her cold lips pressed just below his jaw, leaving a gentle, almost shy kiss on his skin. Without her thinking about it, dictated by the moment, and desired deeply.

-Did you just—?- Pepe froze, like a computer malfunctioning at the most crucial moment, the almost-finished popsicle stick in his hand, the sensation of cold still on his neck, making him lick his lips as he realized what had just happened.

-Oh—uh—sorry. Intrusive thoughts.-

She laughed, brushing away that tiny hint of shyness caused by the insecurity she’d always had.

Her eyes were happy, her body light, as though she wasn’t even touching the ground, while the breeze played with her sarong and the sunlight made her figure seem almost ethereal. She hadn’t thought about it. She hadn’t spent the last hour calculating the pros and cons, letting the fear of missing an opportunity hold her back. She had done it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Like walking. Like breathing. Like laughing.

-…Intrusive thoughts?- Pepe was failing to hold back his smile, still with a piece of his cheek between his teeth.

-Yeah! You know, like, sometimes your brain just—just tells you to do something, and you—- she gestured with her hands—and you do it before you can stop yourself? That. That’s what happened.-

-So just to clarify… your brain told you to kiss me and you just listened?- he asked, letting himself smile fully, not touching her as he wanted to, because everything he wanted to say to her was in his eyes, and the way they were looking at each other with such ease.

-Technically, I kissed your jaw,- she smiled, leaving a hint of her dimples on her expression, as she smiled genuinely, without worrying about having the right expression or holding back.

The driver shook his head, the guitar in the background strumming their soundtrack, as it captured both of them and wouldn’t let go so easily.

-I’m onto you,- he teased, while his mind replayed the image of her cool minty lips just under his jaw, so naturally that neither of them had realized what had happened.

-Oh yeah?-

-That’s so you,- he said, looking at her, trying to imprint on his mind the image of her on the shore, the sarong low on her waist, the black swimsuit hugging her in a way her usual clothes never did, and a few strands of hair tickling her forehead.

-So… do you get a lot of intrusive thoughts about kissing me?-

I do, actually. I mean, not with pepe, obviously, but he suited the situation I had in mind so well I could not let it go. I'm desperately longing to be loved, is that reflecting in my fics?