#formula 1 academy x reader

[babybearnation]

I could really do with some Abbi Pulling fluff if you're down to write that! :D

hi bestie, i'm here to serve you your lesbian content - this is the only time y'all will see me writing female!reader, btw!

abbi pulling x female!reader (fluff headcanons)

cw: briefly suggestive

abbi isn't super clingy or cuddly, but she can pretty much always be found holding your hand

the simple, small acts of affection like holding hands really ground abbi and so she'll always seek you out when she's stressed

she has to kiss you before every race otherwise she feels unable to go ahead and get in the car

she absolutely love kissing you, tbh, and will always seek you out for kisses whenever she wants them

very mischievous with her kisses though

she'll wind you up with them before running off and leaving you all hot and bothered

loves seeing you in the paddock/garage during race weekends but will never force you to come and support her if you're busy

if you show up without telling her you're coming, she'll be so happy and will abandon everything (if possible) to come over and kiss you

all wins/podiums for her have to be celebrated how she wants it to be celebrated so expect her to take control during the evening

sometimes she gets really demotivated and will shut down, going quiet and refusing to speak until she's ready to

she'll appreciate any comfort you can offer her - cuddles or food or just yapping away about something

she'll really appreciate it all and, when she feels ready to speak, she will thank you for being patient with her

the best way to cheer her up, once she's ready to speak and not as upset as before, is to remind her of how much she's accomplished in such a short amount of time

loves dressing you up and doing your makeup, even if she swears you don't need it to be the prettiest girl ever

if she's sat on your lap whilst doing your makeup, don't expect it to stay on very long because she will make out with you and smudge your makeup

(especially if you're trans and she feels you get hard underneath her)

rock her team gear and you might not get very far out of the door

because she wants to avoid the media storm and rumours, you can't mark her up in visible places, but your neck? oh yeah, she's turning it red & purple

do her hair for her and she'll turn so sleepy but very appreciative

loves slow dancing with you even if (especially if) you don't know how to - the more chaos the better

she also loves to take you karting for the exact same reasons

if you ever somehow beat her, she'll go down on you as a reward

lifts you up not only because it allows her to flex her strength but also because she loves the way it flusters you

cute couple photos are a must

proud of you even though she's the f1 academy champion - nothing can dull her pride in you, nothing

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[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

[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!

[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.

[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

[httpiastri]

ollie bearman x crawford!reader

the instagram story was subtle enough. or, at least, so you thought.

ollie didn't seem to agree.

it was a video of you in the newly bought sundress you'd decided to wear to the sprint race today; twirling around in your hotel room, the geotag of "silverstone circuit" in the top right corner. but none of this is what ollie cares about: it's the choice of background music.

they say home is where the heart is, but god i love the english. you know i love a london boy…

the poor boy nearly had a heart attack when he saw it in the paddock. he thought it was super obvious; "i love a london boy" could only mean one thing.

your relationship with ollie is still secret from everyone, including your brother, to ensure that people won't get involved in your private business. besides, once the news is out even in just the racing world, you know it will spread and get big in no time; that's the way it usually is with formula drivers. especially fan-favorites like ollie. so, for the moment, you've decided to just enjoy wherever this takes you, without caring what anyone else thinks. but now, he's scared you've blown it.

your instagram account is on private, so you aren't afraid of fans snooping around and seeing it. but still, it worries ollie; your brother follows you, and that is much worse than fans, he reckons. when you first started going out, you thought it would be natural to tell your twin brother about it, considering the fact that ollie is one of his best friends – but ollie disagreed. the whole dating your best friend's sibling-thing never went well in the movies, and that's all he had to go after.

the song echoes in his brain all morning. during the driver meeting, his pre-race briefings, even as he watches the f3 sprint. he likes my american smile like a child when our eyes meet; darling, i fancy you. all morning leading up to the race, he's distracted and can't think of anything else, though his mechanics and engineers think he's just focused on the race ahead of him. ollie needs some kind of closure, and it isn't until he spots you walking down the f2 paddock that he finds an opportunity.

it's not long before ollie is supposed to get into his car that he sees you on your way to the dams garage. the sundress you showed off in your instagram story looks even better in the real world, and he can't help but swoon at the sight of your smile lighting up the paddock just as much as the sun. he snaps out of it just in time, because when you walk past the prema garage, he swoops out and grabs your wrist, pulling you in.

"ollie-" is all you can get out because now he's pulling you along with him so fast that you can barely even keep up. you manage to nod and greet a few of the prema workers on your way – most people recognize you as jak's sister since you spent a lot of time in the paddock with them last year – but soon, ollie has managed to find you a secluded corner far in the back with no one around.

you rest one hand on his shoulder as you try to catch your breath, looking up at your boyfriend with pinched eyebrows. "you..." he starts, letting out a sigh. "your story on instagram..."

"what about it?"

you weren't usually one to tease him, so he assumes you are actually sincere in your current confusion. the thought of your story may have been etched into his mind for the last few hours and the reason behind his displeasure might be totally clear in his head – but you never were one to read thoughts, which he sometimes forgets. "jak is going to know."

you don't look any less confused by now, which makes ollie feel even more impatient. "why would he know?"

"the song choice. london boy, really? it's so obvious." he pauses for a moment. "you can't do that."

his words are meant as a warning, but the smile on his lips tells a whole other story. no matter how scared he is that your brother will find out that you've been hiding this relationship from him, he can't stop himself from finding it just a bit amusing. and with the way that you're still watching him with such an innocent look and your other hand is also reaching for his shoulder, there's no way he can hold back a grin.

"sweetheart, it's one of the most popular songs out right now. in the entire world. no one will even bat an eye. plus," you tilt your head. "i'm an american girl in england, so london boy is an obvious choice."

"you could've chosen so many other songs about england, but you had to choose that one?"

the chuckle leaves your throat instantly. "you're not even a london boy, ollie."

he knows he's lost. he knows he's just worrying about nothing, he knows there's a much bigger risk that someone finds out about you being here with him in the prema garage than jak connecting the dots from just your story. but he can't give up just yet.

"i'll forgive you. but on one condition," he says, and you immediately nod at him. "give me a kiss. for good luck."

there's not even a second of hesitation before you get onto your tippy toes, reaching up to him. your lips are pressed onto his once, then twice, then thrice. you're both smiling into it, and his hands cup your cheeks, holding you close when you part for the last time.

"you know," he starts, thumbs drawing circles into your cheeks. "i fancy you."

the giggle that leaves your lips is like music to his ears. did he actually study the song? "oh, oliver," you say, trying to pull off your most british accent. "darling, i fancy you, too."

[theyungihven]

🚨 BREAKING: Ferrari shock the paddock with a bold move

Carlos Sainz is out, replaced by a rookie with zero F1 experience. But the real story? It’s personal.

"She didn’t just take my seat. She took my dream, my future, the only thing I ever wanted."

"I didn’t steal his seat. I earned it. I fought for this moment, clawed my way through every impossible wall."

Would you take your enemy’s seat if it meant achieving your dream?

📖 Red Flags & Checkered Hearts – coming soon.

[33-81]

I try to live in black and white, but I'm so blue

I'd like to mean it when I say I'm over you

But that's still not true

[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!!

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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😣

[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 🤍🇸🇦 ]

view all story replies

yourbsf you guys are so cute 💗

yourusername aw ily 💓

twitter

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 🥺

twitter

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]

─── ୨୧ 𝑨via's 𝑴otorsport 𝑴asterlist !

oneshot ── ★

smau ── ⯌

── ★ includes f1, f2, f3, f4, f1a, wags and others !

���� 𝐹ORMULA 1 ::

୨ৎ oscar piastri #81

. . . way of the heart ★

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. . . lando norris masterlist !

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୨ৎ charles leclerc #16

. . . forever mine? forever yours ★

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. . . underneath the (ice) sheets ⯌

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. . . meant to be ★

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. . . romantic homicide ★

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. . . end ★

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. . . forgotten wishes pt.2 ★

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. . . chivalry is dead ⯌

୨ৎ lily muni he

. . . nothing yet!

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. . . nothing yet !

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୨ৎ jann mardenborough (movie ver.)

. . . nothing yet !

[dedeinthewild]

rafa camara x reader, short fic

—You can’t be in here—

summary : Rafa has an outstanding debut in f3, dominating the weekend and showing everyone how he's made, but he's more than the determinated driver...

Rafa had his own way of standing out in the motorsport world, with that sweet and reserved air that, however, made room for a solid and unbeatable driver on track. And he had managed to make his name known even in his first weekend in Formula 3, alongside drivers with much more experience than him, asserting himself on a Melbourne that had been anything but forgiving, and making his white, red, and blue single-seater emerge from the puddles that turned the track into nothing more than a blurred memory. But then again, Brazilians had always made themselves heard, especially when the rain came. And he had never been any different.

He had a car that had left nothing but scraps for his rivals for years now, and his red helmet was the fleeting sight the others caught from behind his rear wheels—a reminder that talents like his were rare and that he had no time to slow down, as if his dream and his goal would simply stop and wait for him. Yet, he was also the kind of person who, after dominating without mercy, would go to the fans or the interviewers, laughing along with them, chatting like any other boy his age would, forgetting the ruthless leader he became between the corners and the scorching asphalt. It was almost as if there were two people inside him, seamlessly blending into the sweet and clean-cut face of a boy who was special—both as a person and as an athlete.

He had parked behind the number one marker, finishing an absurd and chaotic race due to the many mistakes of the other drivers, who had taken trips into the gravel or ended up in the wall, causing yellow flags that, in a way, had robbed him of the chance to truly shine—without the first place coming to him behind the safety car. He had gone a little long on the stop, as if the emotion had made him hit the brakes a second too late, nudging the number one sign with the nose of the Trident before taking his time, waiting for the other two drivers in the top three to park their single-seaters beside his. Then, he grabbed the steering wheel, detaching it to stand up and climb out of the cockpit, rising victorious with his arms in the air and his eyes visible through the open visor—his smile leaving little to the imagination.

—Rafa! Give us a one!— Every photographer shouted as his team and the academy he was part of celebrated him, ignoring the fact that the season was still long and focusing instead on how he had started on the right foot, showing exactly who had to be beaten.

And everything around him was a blurred bubble, almost muffled by the massive, menacing clouds watching from above. Everyone was humming, laughing, smiling at him, patting his shoulders and helmet for the first time in a race weekend he shared with the queens of motorsport. He could feel the entire race in his body—every lap in his hands and knees as he melted into every hug, a little awkwardly as always, unsure whether to shake hands, throw friendly fist bumps, or just let them decide how they wanted to celebrate.

—Come on, weigh time— a steward took him, leading him toward the podium scales for the post-race weigh-in, making him look around with that strange, confused air, as if he were searching for something amidst all the people in parc fermé. Or someone.

His brown eyes were scanning the crowd, looking for a pair of glasses so familiar that they always made him smile, and a smile that reminded him of the Brazilian sun, the very one he carried in his irises. She had to be there, somewhere. She had never missed a race since the day they had met.

Everyone was trying to talk to him while he did his best to satisfy all the photographers with different poses, and the men from the Ferrari Driver Academy were speaking to him, raising their voices to be heard above the chaos reigning in pit lane—from the preparations for the upcoming F2 feature race to the crowd gathering to watch the F3 podium. But all he saw was her standing a few steps back, leaving him his moment. Huddled under an umbrella with his lead mechanic.

—Let’s go, Rafael— the same steward took him, Theophile, and Noah, leading them toward the makeshift cool-down room on the back balcony of the podium, while the three walked up, huge smiles on their faces as they chatted about the race and the miserable conditions that had made it such a challenge.

He looks at her again, like maybe she’ll be gone if he doesn’t, but she’s already giving him the smallest nod, like go on, I’ll be here.

A few minutes later, after discussing the car with his teammate and confirming with the engineer who would be joining them on the podium, the Brazilian was leaning against the wall next to the Van Amersfoort Racing driver, adjusting the cap with the number one on it. A huge smile was still stretched across his face, unable to stay quiet as he laughed—almost like he needed it to burn off the adrenaline from his first-ever Formula 3 race.

—I thought you’d be happier about winning— a voice said, appearing in front of him before he could even register it.

—You can’t be in here— he blurts out, even though his grin is already giving him away.

It was the same one he always had when she was around—when she held his helmet while he signed autographs for fans or when he drove the team’s quad around the paddock, badly singing along to whatever song she had made him listen to during their lunch breaks under the tents.

—I won’t stay long— she smiled, hands full of cables and driver cards she should have been taking to the garage instead of sneaking up the podium stairs to reach him, while Noah and Theophile drank some water and waited for the signal to step outside and collect their trophies. —I just had to remind you how much you amaze me every time—

He got that usual expression, a little confused and unreadable, typical of someone young, sweet, and a little hard to pin down. But she knew him like the back of her hand, though it had taken her a while to pick up on the smallest details of the Brazilian.

She had barely stepped inside before he started yapping, his words coming out in rapid bursts, barely making sense but not caring if they did. He was always like this when she was around, because with her, there was no need to worry about keeping up the sweet and reserved good-boy image—he could be anything he felt like being, whether it was the unbeatable driver, the unshakable athlete, or the guy who couldn’t shut up even if he tried.

—and did you see the way I almost lost the car in turn 3? I swear, I felt it slipping and I just— he said, speaking quickly, knowing their time was limited. —My heart stopped. Like—actually stopped. I knew it was going to be okay, but it was thrilling—

And his passion was so pure. That all she could do was lean against the wall, listening to every tiny detail, without reminding him that after the podium, they had all the time in the world to talk about it over eggs and a glass of water in hospitality.

—You’re doing the thing again—

—What thing?—

—The thinking thing— she said, knowing how confident he was but also how he always demanded the absolute best from himself and his races, even though nothing could change the way he saw himself as an athlete.

—Well, yeah, my brain kinda works like that— he joked, adjusting his cap again.

—I mean, it isn’t the race you wanted, but it was the best debut you could have had in these conditions— she stopped for a second, fixing the collar of his fireproof suit, smoothing it just below his Adam’s apple. ��And I’m proud, as always—

—I know— he smiled, that bright, sincere one that made his dimples stand out.

It’s ridiculous. They’re standing in the cool-down room, moments before he’s meant to step onto his first-ever F3 podium, laughing over nothing. But that’s how it always is with them. No matter where, no matter when—he just finds her. Always.

—I should go before someone finds me in here— she said, noticing the steward moving with that professional air, the accreditation device hanging from her neck, an earpiece in her ear as she approached them.

—Are you, uh… representing the winning team on the podium?— the steward asked, sounding bored, knowing only one team member could go up and celebrate with the top three.

—Oh, no, I’m actually leaving— she said apologetically, before stepping back.

—We’re two idiots, Rafa— she laughed, grabbing his shoulders and hugging him tightly, her face resting in the crook of his neck while he rubbed her back, right where the Trident logo stood proud, their hearts beating almost in sync, knowing this was only the beginning.

—I’m, like, really sweaty right now— he muttered, inhaling the garage scent in her hair, mixed with the same perfume she had always worn.

—Believe me, I know— she chuckled.

Rafa held her a little tighter, allowing himself to enjoy the moment, just this once. And he laughed into her hair, his entire body shaking with the weightlessness of it all. Then he stepped onto the podium, lifting the trophy high. Happy. A winner.

If it wasn't for yesterday's unfortunate crash, he'd have had the perfect weekend, but even with that he's just shown again how much he can do. He's going to be the next Bortoleto, mark my words. Would you like more of these short stories? do you like them?