#ob87x reader

[vivace-formulala]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒: 𝑺𝒐 𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑶𝒏 𝑻𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 (𝑶𝑩𝟖𝟕 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

🫵: “ AFAB ; same-aged ; you can drive ; you’re British ; you like Taylor Swift ; you fix cars ; ”

⌛️: around winter break 2024

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That night, you sit on your bed, the hum of your laptop breaking the silence. Your fingers hover over the keys—unsure at first—but curiosity wins. You type his name into the search bar: Oliver James Bearman.

And then it happens. You fall down the rabbit hole.

First stop: his Wikipedia page. The guy is famous famous. You scroll past the basics—his birthday, early career, teams he's driven for. But it’s the photos that really catch your eye. Young Ollie, barely fifteen, smiling wide after a race win. And then, an older Ollie, still flashing that toothy grin, but with a face stronger jaw and neck that’s seen more of the world.

You click on the links to his racing highlights, watching old footage from PREMA Racing—raw and unpolished, from when he was just starting out.

You laugh too much at some of the behind-the-scenes, especially the ones where he looks embarrassed but is forced to wear a ridiculous bunny costume or gets a bucket of ice water dumped on him mid-interview, or even carving onions. There's one clip you like particularly of him saying goodbye to PREMA Racing after his final Formula 2 race, hugging his junior team with more emotion than you'd expect. Ollie’s a big softie.

You can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be wrapped up in one of his hugs.

Hours fly by as you binge-watch video after video. By the time you close your laptop, the clock has long since passed midnight. You reluctantly shut it down, but now, Ollie’s not just the guy next to you in driving lessons—he’s more. He’s an athlete, driven, ambitious. And his journey is only beginning.

Day 4 of driving school arrives with an unexpected sense of ease.

You're already in the car, engine, and stereo humming low, waiting for Ollie. He slides into the driver’s seat, flashing his usual grin. “Ready to go?”

You nod, cracking the window to let the morning air rush in. When Ollie’s in a joking mood, you know the lesson’s going to be fun.

Today’s driving is smooth. Ollie’s relaxed, confident even. And you? You’re relaxed too. For once, you don’t feel like you’re in the passenger seat of a car that could flip over at any moment. You just watch as he handles the road, navigating the streets with care. It’s almost impressive how quickly he’s gotten the hang of it.

"So," you say casually, "I stalked you last night."

“I appreciate your honesty,” Ollie laughs.

You nod in agreement. “I practically know everything about you now.”

“Do you?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Yep.” You say popping the P. You tell him everything you discovered—from his early media days to his impressive race wins. Reading about the boy who's been giving you a hard time over the past few days was fun, but hearing it straight from him? Even better.

“Then what about Saudi Arabia last year?” You ask eagerly. It was a beautiful drive and a beautiful day and you were catching up to the present and recent events of his career.

“I got the call maybe,” he pauses, “two? Three hours before the race.”

“No way.” Your jaw drops. “Good thing you were just casually in the area, huh?”

Ollie laughs. “I was there for my F2 race. But I had to race in F1 instead, so I missed out on some career points.”

“Oh, screw that,” you laugh, nudging his shoulder. “You finished 7th in F1, for the top dog. That must’ve been worth it.”

He fights a smile before giving in, nodding. “Yeah, it was worth it.”

The only time your yapping was put on pause was when Taylor Swift came on the radio.

“Oh my God, I love this!” You laugh, turning up the volume as the opening guitar riff of You Belong With Me fills the car.

To your surprise, Ollie sings along to the first verse.

“You know this song?” you ask, eyes wide.

“There was a whole video PREMA made. I thought you stalked me,” he teases.

You both sing at the top of your lungs, swaying to the music, completely caught up in the joy of the moment. It’s a beautiful drive, a beautiful day—and you and Ollie are singing your hearts out.

Soon, you plug your phone into the speaker and play all the hits—indoctrinating Ollie into the essential Swiftie catalog.

“And this one?” you ask, as Sparks Fly starts playing. “Always makes me swoon.”

“The way you move is like a full-on rainstorm— And I’m a house of cards,” you start, way too caught up in the fun to care about how silly it is.

“Is this your favorite?” Ollie asks, but you don’t see his eyes as he watches you, taking in your unfiltered happiness.

It’s ridiculous, but you’re having the time of your life, driving through familiar streets with your voice blending with Taylor’s, while Ollie’s thinking that he definitely likes seeing you so carefree. Loves seeing you happy.

“Yeah,” you laugh, “it’s just so fun to sing.”

You reach for the wheel to adjust the car when Ollie drifts too close to the white road markers. “Focus on the road, Ollie, not my beautiful voice.”

Ollie thinks your voice is wonderful.

The conversation drifts back to Ollie’s time at PREMA Racing—his teammates, the people who’ve been there from the start. You casually ask about his relationships with them.

“So, what’s it like, having your teammates double as your worst enemies?” you ask, leaning back in the seat. “Seems a little… conflicting.”

Ollie shrugs, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, I mean, on the track they drive hard and really challenge you, but off the track we go out and try to live as normal teen lives as possible.”

“That was such a PR answer.” You snort.

“You’d be surprised how often that question comes up.” He smiles as he upshifts the car.

“But no, they’re solid back at Prema. Dino, Kimi, Arvid, Maya... We all travel the world together for races and try to really connect just outside of racing.” Ollie smiles fondly at the thought of his friends that he grew up with.

“So, what I’m hearing is, you have no friends except other drivers,” you tease.

“No!” Ollie says defensively but quite amused. “I take full offense to that.”

“Name one other friend who isn’t a driver,” you challenge.

He pauses, thinking for a moment. Then two. Then three.

“Your silence speaks volumes, Ollie.”

“Shut up, I’m thinking.”

You laugh, looking out the window. You feel strangely honored to be part of his exclusive non-driver friends list. As Ollie switches lanes, you can’t help but admire the way he handles the car.

And Ollie? He’s enjoying the ride with you. He briefly entertains the idea of taking you around London—driving you through the city you grew up in, letting you play more Taylor Swift songs, and turning you into his official passenger princess.

Then, without warning, you throw him off with a teasing question: “By the way, before I forget—are any of your friends from PREMA single?”

Ollie’s smile falters for just a moment, his eyes darkening as he glances at you. He doesn’t answer immediately, and when he does, his voice is quieter than usual. “Why?”

You blink, surprised at the sudden shift. You didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a joke, one of those harmless questions that popped into your head. But maybe it was a little too silly.

“I mean,” you continue, trying to keep things light, “I wouldn’t mind paddock passes.” You laugh.

“I can get you paddock passes. What do you need my friends for?” Ollie’s voice tightens.

You hum, keeping it playful. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind dipping my toes in WAG culture. The Formula 1 WAGs are apparently top-tier.” You smile, but Ollie won’t meet your eyes. “Gabriele’s single, right? Arvid too?”

Ollie’s grip on the wheel tightens. “Yeah. They’re both single.”

The air shifts, thickening with something you can’t quite place. Ollie’s mood is suddenly different—defensive, maybe?

You brush it off, thinking maybe he’s just tired, or maybe he’s just a little sensitive about his friends. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just asking. Saw them in the videos.” You say quietly to justify yourself.

But something in the air has shifted. Ollie’s mood is different, defensive almost. You try to lighten it up by cracking a joke about their Pico Park gaming episode, but it doesn’t land the way you expect. His eyes stay on the road, a frown etched into his features.

“Right,” he mutters, and the tension is palpable now. The conversation feels awkward, heavier than it should be.

It’s quiet for a few more meters, and you feel extremely uncomfortable.

“You…. You okay?” you ask, trying to figure out what just happened. You didn’t say anything wrong, did you?

Ollie doesn’t answer. Instead, he shifts in his seat, his jaw clenched, and the rest of the drive goes in silence. Every time you try to break the ice, it feels like he’s pulling further away.

As you pull into the parking lot of the school, you can’t ignore the heavy tension. It feels like you’ve crossed some invisible line, though you can’t figure out where or why.

“Well,” you say, trying to break the silence, “guess we’re done for today.”

Ollie nods stiffly. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

He gets out, walking away without another word. You watch him go, stomach twisting with confusion. What just happened? A simple question, and yet the mood shifted so abruptly.

You drive home, mind racing, trying to make sense of it. Why did he react that way? Was it something you said?

You’ll probably have to wait until tomorrow to find out. Because whatever it was, Ollie’s definitely not admitting it today.

Maybe. You were supposed to invite him for some boba for a job well done too.

© ｖｉｖａｃｅ－ｆｏｒｍｕｌａｌａ

[vivace-formulala]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY OLLIE BEARMAN 🐻🎂

🍰♡ ༘*.ﾟfrom stressing on feeder series to watching your dreams come true, happy 20th b.man! 🧸🎈

Read my short n’ sweet 5 parter x reader to celebrate!

so please hold on tight ♡ ob87

(if you see this and want to join, say i tagged you <3 feel free to tag me back!)