#eishicreations

Toto’s Favorite Intern 1

Platonic! F1 x Gen Z!Reader

– Where you, Y/N Wolff, Toto’s niece who became the Social Media Intern in Mercedes, turn the paddock upside down. How will they handle this hellion?

When you were still a tiny bundle of chubby cheeks and wobbly steps, you had already made up your mind about one thing, your favourite person in the entire world was Toto Wolff. It did not matter that he was a towering figure with a naturally serious expression. The moment he walked into the room, you lit up like a sunrise.

Your family often joked that you had a built-in Toto radar. No matter how quietly he arrived, the second his footsteps reached the hallway, there you were, a determined little figure toddling after him on unsteady legs, clutching a toy in one hand and wearing the expression of someone on a very important mission. You followed him everywhere: from the kitchen to the living room, from the balcony to the garden. If Toto sat, you sat beside him. If he stood, you stood right there, your tiny hand ready to grab his trouser leg to keep him close.

The moment that sealed your bond forever came unexpectedly one quiet afternoon. Toto had crouched down to your level, offering a rare, gentle smile. You looked at him with wide eyes, opened your mouth, and out came your very first word.

“Toto.”

For a man known for his composed, often stoic demeanour, his reaction was almost uncharacteristic. His eyes softened instantly, and he let out a genuine, warm laugh, one the family rarely heard. From that day forward, Toto was not just your uncle. In your little world, he was your favourite person, your safe place, and your first word all rolled into one. And though he rarely showed his emotions so openly, everyone could tell that the bond you had formed in that moment was unshakeable.

As the years passed, you grew from the toddling shadow who followed him everywhere into a young woman with your own spark of talent and individuality. You were still fiercely attached to your uncle, but now your connection went beyond childhood fondness. You had discovered a deep love for the arts, especially dancing and video editing. In school, you even dabbled in digital art, designing posters and editing photos for announcements.

It began innocently enough. A simple dance routine you recorded for a school project ended up making the rounds among your classmates, who swore you had an instinct for movement and rhythm. From there, you began experimenting, editing your own videos to match the beat of songs, blending transitions so seamlessly that the clips looked as if they belonged in professional campaigns. Social media became your stage, and you navigated it with the precision of someone who understood the fast-changing digital world like the back of your hand.

Toto, despite being a man rooted in the traditional aspects of motorsport, could not help but notice your growing influence online. Over time, he began to seek your advice on small but important things, what kind of captions might appeal to younger audiences, what style of video would capture attention without seeming forced, which trends were worth adopting and which should be avoided entirely. You would sit beside him with your laptop, explaining algorithms and engagement strategies with the same patience he once used to teach you how to ride a bicycle.

One spring afternoon, after yet another discussion about content ideas, Toto leaned back in his chair, studying you with that calculating expression he often wore during team meetings.

“You know,” he said in a measured tone, “we could use someone like you on the team. You understand how to connect with people. You understand how they think.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Are you… saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I am offering you an internship,” Toto confirmed, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “Mercedes AMG Petronas. Social Media PR team. You will not just be editing videos of drivers waving at the camera. You will be learning how a world-class team manages its image.”

Your heart raced. This was not just a casual favour from your uncle this was an opportunity to work inside the paddock, to be part of something you had only ever watched from the outside, a responsibility.

Within weeks, you found yourself stepping through the sleek, glass doors of the team’s headquarters in Brackley, wearing your brand-new staff badge. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the faint, oily tang of machinery. The energy in the air was electric, a perfect blend of engineering precision and competitive ambition.

And while most interns might have felt overwhelmed, you carried yourself with quiet confidence. After all, this was your uncle’s world and now, it was yours too.

Meanwhile, in the Mercedes garage…

The air buzzed with the hum of machinery and the quiet chatter of engineers. You were not there yet, but your presence or rather, your influence, was already being noticed.

It started when George, in the middle of a slow day between practice runs, Did a tiktok script from the team saying “Skibidi toilet Baku, my dudes.”

Normally, Toto would have given him one of those sharp, unimpressed looks that could make even a seasoned driver rethink his life choices. Instead, Toto barely blinked, replying in a calm, almost neutral tone, “Interesting choice of words, George,” before turning back to a monitor.

George froze, convinced he had imagined it.

A few days later, Kimi tried his luck. He tossed a handful of Gen Z slang into a casual conversation with Toto, expecting the man to be confused, maybe even annoyed. But no — Toto simply nodded along as though the words made perfect sense to him.

Kimi glanced at George, whispering, “He… he understood that?”

George’s brow furrowed. “Yeah. And I don’t know whether to be impressed or scared.”

From there, the garage crew began to talk. Quietly, of course. Was Toto secretly spending his nights on TikTok? Did he have a burner account? Was he… lurking in comment sections? No one dared to ask him outright, but the curiosity simmered.

The truth came out during the next team meeting. Drivers, engineers, and PR staff gathered around the long conference table as Toto entered, his presence instantly commanding the room.

“I have an announcement,” he said, his tone carrying that usual weight of authority. “We have a new intern joining our Social Media PR team. Please welcome my niece, Y/N Wolff.”

You stepped into the room, offering a polite smile as you made your way to a seat beside your uncle. The shift in atmosphere was immediate. It was not just the fact you were family, it was how different Toto seemed with you there.

His gaze softened when it landed on you. His voice lost some of its sharpness as he explained things to you directly. He leaned in when you spoke, nodding along to your suggestions about TikTok engagement and Instagram reels as if every word was worth gold.

From across the table, George leaned toward Kimi, muttering, “So that’s why he knows all the slang.” then George smirked. “She’s the one teaching him.”

By the end of the meeting, everyone in that room had learned something important — you were not just another intern. You were the one person in the entire paddock who could make Toto Wolff smile and understand whatever “Skibidi toilet Baku” was supposed to mean.

Inspired by @cheftsunoda and all the yandere batfam, neglected sister fics I've been consuming.

Moved Account: @rosiel-leclerc04

Face Claim: Liz from kpop group IVE

Word Count 3.9k

Love is for those who are present

Ollie Bearman x Estrange!Leclerc! Reader

-Where Ollie Bearman accidentally revealed his 2 year relationship with global soloist from SM Entertainment based in UK, and apparently she's a Leclerc?

The pasta was overcooked again, but neither of them cared. Ollie sat on the kitchen counter, legs swinging lazily, while she stood barefoot by the stove, singing under her breath—something unreleased, something soft. Her voice filled the flat the same way it had filled his head that very first time.

“You said you’d watch the timer,” she teased, turning with a raised brow.

“I was,” he said, helplessly smiling. “Then you started singing and... yeah, I forgot everything else existed.”

She tried to look annoyed, but it didn’t stick. “You’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love,” he added, smug.

She groaned, but her cheeks were warm. It had been two years of this... Nights in, tangled routines, too many burnt dinners, and a kind of quiet love neither of them needed to broadcast. She turned the stove off and walked over, fitting between his legs like it was the only place she was ever meant to be.

“You know,” he murmured, fingers brushing up her back, “first time I heard you sing, like really sing, was in that tiny café near Soho. You didn’t even know I was there.”

She blinked. “Wait—when?”

“Our second week talking. You were waiting for your coffee, just humming at the window. No mic, no stage. Just you.”

“You’re serious?”

“You made the whole place go quiet. Including me.”

She laughed, burying her face in his chest to hide how hard she was blushing. The memory, the honesty, the way he remembered it so clearly—it made her heart ache in the softest way.

“I’m glad I didn’t scare you off.”

“Terrified me, actually,” he said. “But it was the good kind.”

Olliebear uploaded a story!

Comments in the stories:

wifeyofbearman: NO CAUSE HE’S IN LOVE

charles_leclerc: ollie.

arthur_leclerc: hold on.

oscarpiastri: this just got interesting

carlossainz55: rookie mistake

jakebegovic: someone’s in trouble 💀

pierregasly: main account ollie. main.

liamlawson30: bro did NOT just drop a hard launch and disappear

isthisrlyf1: wait who is she she’s GORGEOUS

paddockgirlie: is that the soloist who went viral for that sparkly wink last month??

arthur_leclerc: tell me this isn’t who I think it is

charles_leclerc: call me now.

ferrariforpasta: WHOEVER SHE IS SHE MAKES HIM SO SOFT

fanacc45: the way he deleted it so fast 😭

5 mins later

Story: Deleted.

Meanwhile in the house of Leclerc in Monaco...

It started with Arthur. He hadn’t even been online when Ollie’s story went up, but the screenshots landed in his group chats before he could open Instagram. At first, it was the blurry concert photo that made his chest tighten. He knew that silhouette. He used to grew up with that silhouette.

Then came the mirror selfie.

He zoomed in, slowly. Once. Twice.

The girl in the photo had her face partially hidden behind her phone, but there were things you couldn't fake. She used to dye her hair when she wanted to piss off their mother during last few times she was forced to visit them, The way she got shipped off to her godmother in england at a young age.

He stared at it for a full minute before calling Charles.

“She’s with Ollie.”

Charles sounded half-asleep, but snapped upright instantly. “What?”

“Go on Instagram. Now. Check Ollie’s tagged photos if someone reposted it.”

There was silence on the line for a moment, then Charles cursed low under his breath.

“No way.”

“That’s her, right?” Arthur’s voice was tight.

Charles didn’t answer right away. Because the truth was- he hadn’t seen her in years. Not since she got kicked out by their parents for being a "problematic child" years ago and disappeared into the chaos of the music industry. They hadn’t even known she was still in Europe. They didn’t know anything....

And now, apparently, the world did.

He exhaled slowly, jaw clenched. “Yeah. That’s her.”

Top Comments:

formula\_wives: the kiss on the cheek??? he’s so in love it’s insane

leclercupdates: wait WAIT THAT LOOKS LIKE-

charliebaby16: charles leclerc’s little sister no i’m sweating

itsyagirlie: wait who's charles leclerc? Is that a chocolate or sum

arthurzone: nah cause if this is who we think it is… this whole grid is not ready

paddocktea: Ollie hard launched their own soap opera and i am eating it up

ynation_uk: HOLD ON THAT’S OUR GIRL???? THE HAIR THE DIMPLES?!

ynvocalsupremacy: SHE WAS SO QUIET THIS ERA AND THIS IS WHY???

k-idolf1edits: YN and Ollie Bearman soft-launching after TWO YEARS is not on my 2025 bingo card

ynsbackstagecrew: he posted a video of her singing in the kitchen... do you people realize he’s living our dream???

ynstarlight: as a longtime fan, i just want to say... GET IT GIRL but also... explain immediately

ynintl: there was literally a rumor she was dating a producer? OLLIE IS THE PRODUCER??

wayenint: @ynintl His actually a F1 Racer!

soloistprincess: the way her fandom and the f1 fandom are now in an accidental alliance is sending me

Retweets from K-pop fan pages now saying:

“So we’re all just supposed to pretend we didn’t recognize her voice in that kitchen video huh”

“Ollie Bearman. F1 driver. Kpop boyfriend. King.”

“If this is real, their couple visuals are actually unfair to the rest of us.”

olliebearman

olliebearman not a soft launch. two years, multiple album releades, and one very overcooked pasta later.

hi.

❤️

Tagged: @YnOfficial

Top comments:

ynation_uk: CRYING SCREAMING SLIDING DOWN WALL

charles_leclerc: we’ll talk later.

arthur_leclerc: i need 5-7 business days to recover from this, is this actually yourname?

oscarpiastri: congrats on surviving the internet

ynintl: TWO. YEARS. AND YOU HID IT THIS WELL???

carlossainz55: i’ve never seen a man post and immediately risk his life like this

oscarpiastri: oh so this is what you meant by “I’m busy this weekend”

landonorris: glad you finally told us... with the rest of the internet

georgerussell63: congratulations, mate. very brave.

alex\_albon: i give it 2 hours before she’s on trending.

gabrielbortoleto: bro hid her like she was a race strategy

kimiantonelli: Pls their gonna be even more insufferable (Free food tho...)

estebanocon: didn’t even tell me. i’m hurt

danielricciardo: the way you’ve been lying to all of us... proud.

ynation\_uk: girl your taste is EXQUISITE we approve

f1girliex: enemies to lovers with the leclercs incoming

ynvocalsupremacy: THE HARD LAUNCH? THE FOREHEAD PIC? I’M NOT OKAY

tifosigf: she wears his race shirt. he calls her his favorite voice. this is peak romance

wifeybearman: imagine your boyfriend being soft AND fast

soloistkween: i’m in shambles but supportive, also who's this Charles leclerc people are talking about?

charles16fan: @soloistkween her brother! People dig something up and it turns out she's a leclerc!

soloistkween: @charles16fan??? She has been an only child of YourGodMotherName YourLastName thats why she's Yourname Lastname

paddockcursed: netflix NEEDS to cover this in drive to survive.

Top comments:

lrookiepaddock: not ollie dating a whole kpop soloist and keeping it quiet, his just a chill british guy

yntruthers: SM ENT?? THIS IS IDOL BLOODLINE

leclercapologist: charles is gonna pass out when he sees she’s more famous than him in korea

haasgossipxoxo: she trained under sm and dated ollie while dodging the media like a spy

kpopxf1editz: she was literally built for global stage

ynationintl: this isn’t just a girlfriend reveal this is a career timeline drop.

maknaomadness: SM??? AS IN SM ENTERTAINMENT??? as in “we eat, drink and snack cd" SM???

fanofallthings: ollie didn’t just soft-launch a girlfriend. he hard-launched A LIVING LEGEND

genzjournalist: her dating a Ferrari junior (apparently his known as a mini charles?) while singing in ball gowns is such peak second gen energy

notmariahhoney: girl trained in korea, debuted in the UK, and fell in love with a haas driver??? be serious this is fanfic ever does she go to jackson wangs party?

traineeteadropper: no cause she was in the same showcase lineup as aespa once. she was never just a background girl

teamsolosupremacy: what do you MEAN she was SM’s global soloist and dated Ollie Bearman at the same time

_multistanfiles: sm didn’t push her enough now she’s in her “lowkey muse dating an f1 driver” arc

haashive: imagine going from sm monthly evaluations to watching your boyfriend fight for points in a f2💀

leclercsisterfiles: so she had a career, left monaco, trained in korea, debuted solo, dated ollie, and didn’t tell her brothers???

ynintern: @leclercsisterfiles unfortunately, we just found out she is a leclerc, she is known as Yourname Lastname this whole time.

kpopxf1memes: this crossover is SO unserious and i’ve never been more entertained.

Meanwhile somewhere in Monaco....

It started with a quiet question at the dinner table.

“Maman… did you ever contact her? Check on her?”

The silence that followed was heavier than either Charles or Arthur expected. Pascale didn’t look up from her plate.

“No.”

Arthur frowned. “Not even a message? A birthday?”

“She made her choice,” Pascale said simply, like that was enough.

It wasn’t.

Later, Charles tried to contact your godmother. He thought maybe.. just maybe... she’d have spoken to you, kept some hidden bridge intact. But when he asked about meeting you again, she shut it down quickly. Said it wasn’t a good idea. That you were busy. That you’d moved on. You never cared before so why are you asking now?

The rejection stung, but it was the implication that gutted them: you didn’t want to see them.

That night, Charles sat in his room with his phone glowing in his hands. He didn’t mean to, but he searched your name. The results were endless- award speeches, sold-out concerts, interviews in languages you’d learned after leaving Monaco.

You looked radiant in every frame, the kind of confidence and light they’d never seen in you back home. And it hurt.

Arthur found him hours later, sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching a performance clip on loop.

“She’s… amazing,” Arthur said quietly.

“She always was,” Charles replied, his voice rough.

But the more they watched, the more it twisted inside.

You were smiling in every photo. Laughing in every clip. Thriving in a life that didn’t include them. And for the first time, it sank in—they weren’t part of your story anymore.

Arthur’s voice cracked. “Do you think she even thinks about us?”

Charles swallowed hard. “…Not the way we think about her.”

Because you had taken every dream they once teased you for and turned it into reality. And somewhere along the way, you’d left them behind- not out of spite, but because you had to.

And now, all they could do was watch from a distance, wondering if they were too late to matter again.

Arthur didn’t speak for a long time after the phone call ended. He just sat there, hands clenched in his lap, staring blankly at the muted TV where the same image flashed over and over—a screenshot of Ollie’s story, her laughing in a hoodie far too big, his cap on her head, looking… happy.

So effortlessly happy.

“Why didn’t we look for her?” he asked suddenly, voice small. Raw.

Charles didn’t answer.

“Did you think she’d just come back one day?” Arthur kept going, like if he stopped talking he’d collapse. “That she’d realize we missed her and show up in the paddock like nothing happened?”

Charles still didn’t speak.

Because the truth was uglier than that.

They hadn’t looked because it hurt. Because watching her walk away had felt like betrayal, and calling it “distance” was easier than admitting they didn’t know how to reach her without tearing open the very thing that had driven her away.

And now she was out there—brilliant, unbothered, untouchable. Singing in front of thousands, while they watched from behind a screen.

Charles opened a fan edit someone had sent him. He didn’t even realize he’d clicked it. It was her. Center stage. Hair windswept, mic clutched in her hand like she was born to hold it. The bridge hit, her voice cracking just slightly with emotion—and his heart broke open in the quiet.

He remembered her humming that same melody in their hallway at fifteen. Before she had proper vocal training. Before SM. Before she learned how to leave.

He remembered thinking: *she’s going to be someone.*

He never thought it would be someone they didn’t recognize anymore.

“She didn’t even call,” Arthur said, choked. “Two years. Not a message. Not even for Maman’s birthday.”

“She had every right not to,” Charles replied quietly, voice shaking. “We left her first.”

Arthur looked at him like he wanted to fight it. But he couldn’t.

Because they both remembered.

The way their family had shut her down every time she talked about music. The way they teased her at dinner for chasing idols and pop dreams. The way no one stood up for her when she packed a single suitcase and walked away from the Leclerc name.

And now?

Now she was headlining shows, breaking charts, signing global brand deals—and smiling like she didn’t miss them at all.

That hurt more than anything.

They spent the night watching her career like outsiders. Clicking every video. Reading every article. Noticing the moments she looked tired. Or lonely. Or like she was pretending not to be.

But they had no right to ask.

No right to call.

Not when she had spent all her lige turning herself into everything they never believed she could be.

Charles thought he’d gotten good at hiding it, years in the public eye had taught him how to keep his face calm, his voice steady. But in the silence of his apartment, when Arthur had gone home, the mask slipped.

The phone was still on the floor, the paused video frozen on your smile. His chest ached like something sharp was lodged there, an ache he couldn’t push away.

He remembered the last time he saw you-smaller, quieter, unsure of yourself. You’d been clutching a notebook full of half-finished lyrics, humming under your breath, afraid to sing in front of anyone. He’d teased you about it, promised he’d be there to watch your first big stage.

And then… life happened. Or maybe it was him. Or all of them.

Now he was just another face in the crowd. Another stranger watching you from behind a screen.

He scrolled further, and the headlines started to blur:

“Global Soloist Breaks UK Streaming Records"

“SM Entertainment’s Global Star Talks About Chasing Dreams”

In one interview clip, the host asked if you had anyone back home you wanted to thank. You beamed and said, “I’m grateful to the people who supported me along the way. Godmothername, for supporting me when I had no one, to a certain bear who has been by my side, to my bestfriends who may be chaotic but is alwayd there to fall on, to my team for always guiding and helping me in this journey, to the choreographers and to the producers who made all of this happened by helping me produce these songs, and to my darlings thank you for your support! I promise to make you all proud, and lastly I WILL BE RELEASING A NEW ALBUM NEXT MONTH!”

No names. Not his. Not Arthur’s. Not even Maman’s.

His breath came shorter. He didn’t know if it was guilt, regret, or the raw sting of realizing you’d learned to live without them.

By midnight, Charles was pacing. By one, he was sitting on the floor again, knees pulled to his chest, hands over his face. The quiet of the apartment felt suffocating, the distance between you unbearable.

He’d driven Monaco’s streets a thousand times, but now they just felt like reminders of birthdays missed, of phone calls never made, of the promise he’d broken without even realizing it.

And the worst part?

He didn’t know if you’d even want him to fix it.

olliebearman

olliebearman front row tickets >>> any podium

🖤 proud of you, love.

Tagged: @YnOfficial

Top comments:

ynation\_uk: CRYING SCREAMING SLIDING DOWN WALL

haasf1team: welcome to the family 🤍

ynupdates: THIS IS MY MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS

estebanoconn: bro, admit it—you're just here for the free lightstick

georgerussell: okay but where’s my signed album?

carlossainz: so THIS is why you kept dodging dinner invites

f1gossip: he’s literally the loudest kpop boyfriend right now 😭

ynworldtour: boyfriend of the year award 🏆

alexalbon: what in the wattpad

landonorris: Staring at your girlfriend in awe >>> pit stop practice

paddockcursed: he’s just living the wattpad boyfriend dream

olliebearman

olliebearman she says i’m only useful for carrying her bags and making sure she eats after.

probably true.

🛍️🍜

Tagged: @YnOfficial

Top comments:

ynation\_ph: THIS IS DOMESTICITY AT ITS PEAK

haasnation: the way he just exposed her 💀

nicohulkenberg: professional bag holder. proud of you.

liamlawson: that’s true love right there.

ynation_home: THIS IS DOMESTIC BLISS

liamlawson: the coffee’s probably the only thing that saved you

georgerussell: relationship goals right here

landonorris: i expect a cookbook soon

Meanwhile in the grand prix...

The paddock was already alive with noise when they arrived.

Camera shutters clicked in rapid bursts, mechanics hurried past with equipment, and the air buzzed with chatter from media crews. Through all of it, Ollie’s hand stayed firmly in hers. His thumb brushed the back of her knuckles in a steady rhythm, a silent reminder that she was not alone.

“Deep breath, love,” he murmured, bending down just enough that only she could hear. “In and out. I am right here.”

She nodded, but her gaze stayed low. The brim of her cap cast a shadow over her face, blocking the world from seeing more than she wanted to show. The familiar tension sat in her chest, coiled tight. The Haas motorhome was only a few steps away when it happened.

They were impossible to miss.

Charles. Arthur.

Standing just off to the side of the walkway, mid-conversation until their eyes found her. Their voices stopped. The noise of the paddock seemed to fade for one brief, unbearable second.

She froze. The years of history she had tried so hard to bury came rushing back, uninvited and sharp. She could not bring herself to meet their eyes.

Ollie felt the way her hand stiffened in his.

Without hesitation, he moved closer, his shoulder brushing hers as he stepped just enough to block her from their line of sight.

“Eyes on me,” he said quietly, tipping his head until her gaze lifted to meet his instead. “You are not here for them. You are here for me.”

Something in her chest loosened. She gave him a small smile, faint but real, and he returned it without missing a beat. He guided her forward, his hand steady on the small of her back. Neither of them looked back.

Inside the Haas motorhome, the noise of the paddock was replaced by a calm hum of activity. Ollie led her straight to his driver’s room, closing the door behind them. The moment it clicked shut, she felt herself exhale for the first time in minutes.

He sat her down on the small couch and crouched in front of her so they were eye level. His eyes softened.

“I am proud of you,” he said, no hesitation in his tone, like it was the most important truth in the room.

She laughed softly, the tension melting under his steady gaze. “You are always proud of me.”

“Of course,” he said, a small grin tugging at his lips. “But today I am proud of you for holding your head up. And I am selfishly glad that I get to keep you all to myself.”

Her smile widened as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple. It was not a rushed gesture, but one filled with quiet affection, his lips lingering just long enough to make her heart settle in a way nothing else could.

Out in the paddock, the Leclerc brothers were left standing with unspoken questions and an ache they could not name.

Inside this small, quiet room, Ollie had her tucked against his side, their hands still linked, the warmth between them stronger than anything the past could pull apart.

YnOfficial

YnOfficial Not sure how I got so lucky, but I am so, so glad it’s you.

Sometimes I think about how different my life would be if I had never met you.

How quiet the days would feel without your laugh echoing through them. How many moments I would’ve faced alone without your hand quietly finding mine.

You are not just my boyfriend. You are my safe place in a world that can be too loud.

When things get overwhelming, you don’t just tell me to breathe- you breathe with me. You never make me feel like a burden, even when I am in pieces. You’re patient in ways I didn’t know people could be. You listen, really listen, and make me feel heard every single time.

You celebrate my smallest wins like they’re championships. You make the ordinary feel extraordinary, grocery runs, lazy mornings, coffee on the balcony before the world wakes up. You’ve taught me that love isn’t just grand gestures; it’s showing up, every single day, without question.

I know you don’t need to hear this to keep being who you are, Ollie, you are my best decision, my favorite hello, and my happiest “what if” that became a “thank God I did.". You drive me insane, Ollie Bear. But you also make me laugh until my cheeks hurt. You always grab my favorite snacks without me asking. You give me the jacket off your back when you notice I’m cold before I even say anything. You know how to pull me out of my worst moods with one look.

You are the only person I’d willingly share my fries with (even though you steal them anyway). The only one who can convince me to watch an F1 race at an ungodly hour. And the only one who somehow makes even a grocery store run feel like an adventure.

A little thank you to Kimi too I guess, but for real thank you for being Ollie's friend, especially in the grid as rookies.

Tagged: @olliebearman

Top Comments:

olliebearman: 🧡 You’re making me blush in front of the whole internet. (Also I don’t steal fries, they migrate to me.)

kimiantonelli: this is cute and all but where’s my appreciation post?

YnOfficial: you got one sentence. be greatful olliebearman: yeah mate, you should be happy you even got a mention.

kimiantonelli: wow. this is how you treat your day one?? The one who taught ollie italian cooking?

YnOfficial: day one?? please. you didn’t even like me at first. Also it was your mom not you

kimiantonelli: …okay maybe. but i do now, also stop making heart pizzas im still single 🥀

olliebearman: aw look at you two bonding in my comments.

YnOfficial: don’t get jealous bear, you’re still my favorite.

kimiantonelli: nuh uh Kimi x Ollie 4evaaa

olliebearman: kimiiii 😭

YnOfficial: You might have a ship with MY MAN but he comes home for me.

kimiantonelli: YOU TAKE THAT BACK

YnOfficial: ok fine big thank you, Kimi 😭

olliebearman: also Kimi, thanks for not letting me starve apparently

kimiantonelli : You’re welcome. Now both of you owe me dinner.

YnOfficial: Lets.. Not go too far

landonorris: crying, throwing up, screaming-

carlossainz: So this is why Ollie’s been smiling all day.

georgerussell: wholesome overload. my teeth hurt.

pierregasly: 🫡 keep this energy forever.

ynation_uk: CRYING SCREAMING SLIDING DOWN WALL

f1tea: when is it my turn 😭

olliebearmanupdates: brb SOBBING in the corner this is so soft

gridgossipf1: anddd the award for most whipped couple goes to…

charlesfans: i’m crying this is so sweet omg 🥹

kimiupdates: not kimi turning up in the comments 💀

I finally finished this fic there might be error and stuff because english is not my first language also I'm like sleep deprived so I might have missed some details mwah

Moved accounts in @rosiel-leclerc04

She's Real!

Oscar Piastri x Reader

-Where the grid didn't believe Oscar has a girlfriend.

The McLaren garage had never seen this kind of energy. Everyone chalked it up to the usual pre-race buzz, mechanics zipping around, engineers muttering into headsets, and fans packed along the paddock lines, phones at the ready. But there was something else in the air. Something electric.

It started with murmurs.

“Who’s that?”

“She’s so pretty. Wait, is she famous?”

A woman no one recognized stood at the back of the McLaren setup, copper-orange hair glowing beneath the garage lights, dressed in an understated outfit that somehow made her stand out even more. She didn’t talk to anyone, didn’t flash a paddock pass or introduce herself to the crew. She just stood there, hands clasped in front of her, eyes scanning the garage like she was searching for someone.

(Face Claim: Huh Yunjin from Le Sserafim, 2023 Mama Performance, 1st pic is the look hair and make up, 2nd pic is the fit)

The broadcasters caught on quickly, cameras panning discreetly to her figure. Social media blew up in seconds.

Everyone thought it was just another influencer or maybe a celebrity guest. That was until Oscar Piastri walked in.

He didn’t even glance at the car, didn’t acknowledge the engineers waving him over, didn’t take off his race suit or check the monitors. The second he saw her, he stopped mid-step.

Then everything about his face changed.

The calm, almost unreadable Oscar that fans were used to completely melted away. His eyes widened, lips parted in disbelief, and then he broke into the kind of grin no one had ever seen on him before. It wasn’t just joy. It was something deeper. Relief. Love. Absolute awe.

“You’re here,” he breathed, practically running over to her.

Before anyone could react, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest. His face buried into her neck as he spoke again, muffled but unmistakably emotional.

“You’re actually here. I thought your flight got canceled.”

By now, half the garage had stopped working. Lando was frozen mid-sip of his water bottle. Carlos stared like someone had just dropped a unicorn into the garage. A mechanic from the neighbouring garage dropped a wrench.

She laughed softly, arms around his back, fingers curling into the fabric of his fireproofs. “I made it. I wasn’t going to miss this.”

Charles, watching from nearby, turned toward Lewis with narrowed eyes. “Wait. That’s her?”

“Who?” Lewis blinked.

“His girlfriend,” Charles hissed. “The one he’s been talking about for months. I thought she was imaginary.”

Lando approached with a dramatic gasp. “Wait wait wait. That’s her? The girlfriend? The one from Australia? The reason Oscar leaves our group chats on delivered for six hours?”

Oscar pulled back slightly, hands still on her waist. He didn’t even try to hide the dopey grin on his face.

“Yeah,” he said, beaming. “That’s my girlfriend.”

Chaos ensued.

“No way.”

“You weren’t lying?”

“I feel so betrayed. I thought we were best friends, Oscar,” Lando said, hands on his heart like he’d been personally wronged.

Oscar just laughed, squeezing her hand. “I told you all. You just didn’t believe me.”

Charles was already scrolling his phone. “Group chat’s gonna explode.”

Lando crossed his arms. “You said we were close. Best mates. And you didn’t even tell me she was coming.”

Oscar shrugged, barely paying attention. His eyes were still on her. “Was gonna be a surprise.”

As the others began to crowd, asking questions, trying to get her name, her socials, anything, Oscar leaned in and whispered something that made her cheeks flush and her smile soften.

The grid could buzz all they wanted. She was here. That’s all that mattered.

Smudge of Biscoff

Kimi Antonelli x Reader

You’ve been dating an F1 driver since before his f2 career, and now that he’s in the thick of the championship fight, your relationship is the calm in his storm. The world sees a rookie competitor; you see the boy kimi, who loves your baking.

The paddock was buzzing with the familiar pre-race energy, the air thick with the scent of fuel, rubber, and faintly of coffee from the hospitality suites. The Mercedes garage gleamed under the soft morning light, its walls echoing with voices, the clink of tools, and the low hum of machinery being checked for the day ahead.

You slipped in quietly, an insulated carrier held carefully in your arms. A few crew members noticed you immediately, not just because of your presence, but because of the sweet, unmistakable scent trailing with you.

"Morning," you greeted warmly, setting the carrier down on the long counter near the refreshments area. You unzipped it to reveal three perfectly baked cheesecakes: creamy vanilla with a golden crust, one crowned with a swirl of raspberry compote, and another rich with dark chocolate shavings. Then, from a smaller container tucked in the side pocket, you carefully lifted a fourth — a biscoff-topped cheesecake, its glossy caramel layer gleaming under the light.

"This one’s for Kimi," you said with a soft smile, sliding it toward a plate marked with his race number. "He’ll know why."

A few chuckles rose from the nearby mechanics, and you caught sight of Toto walking past mid-conversation with an engineer.

You reached into your bag again, this time producing a small, lidded cup. "Toto," you called lightly, catching his attention. He paused, eyebrow raised.

"I know you’re not much for overly sweet things," you continued, stepping closer, "so I made you a coffee tiramisu. Strong, a little bitter- just the way you like it."

For a moment, his sharp expression shifted into something warmer, almost amused. "You didn’t have to do that," he replied, though the faintest hint of a smile betrayed his appreciation. He accepted the cup carefully, giving you a small nod that for him was as close to a thank-you as words. Despite people's expectations of Toto, His actually not that spikey, She knows Kimi has been taken care by Toto at a young age if those videos of him visiting the Mercedes didn't tell the whole story.

Not long after, Kimi wandered in, hair slightly messy from his cap, scanning the counter like a hawk. His eyes landed on the biscoff cheesecake, and his whole demeanor brightened.

"You’re kidding me," he said, already leaning over it. "I can’t eat this now- you know I can’t eat this now." He whines as he take a big sniff of the very fragrant biscoff cheesecake.

"You can smell it and think about it while you’re racing," you teased, watching him shake his head but grin all the same as he gives you a brief peck on the lips as he walk back to the garage.

Around you, the garage worked on, but you felt the warmth of the small smiles from the crew, the way they noticed these gestures, quiet, consistent, and filled with a kind of affection you didn’t need to announce.

The roar of the crowd still echoed faintly in your ears as the race wound down, the tension in the Mercedes garage gradually melting into relief. Mechanics clapped each other on the back, engineers exchanged quick smiles over data screens, and you lingered near the back, waiting for the moment you knew was coming.

Kimi stepped inside, his race suit damp from the heat, hair sticking slightly to his forehead. His cheeks were flushed from the adrenaline, from the effort and his grin was unmistakable. He found you immediately.

"You know what I want," he said without preamble, walking straight toward you.

"You mean congratulations for your p3?" you asked with a teasing tilt of your head as you give him a chaste kiss on his sweaty cheek scrunching up a little at the sweat.

"I mean my cheesecake." His voice was mock-serious, though the sparkle in his eyes gave him away.

You’d kept the biscoff cheesecake covered during the entire race, tucked safely in the corner of the counter. Now, you slid the lid off, revealing the . His eyes lit up in a way that almost made you forget he’d just been driving at over 300 kilometers per hour.

"You’ve been thinking about this the whole race, haven’t you?" you said, handing him a fork.

"Lap fifteen I was wondering if I could fit a slice in during a pit stop," he admitted, already cutting into it.

The first bite earned a soft hum of satisfaction from him, his shoulders relaxing like every ounce of stress had finally drained away. You leaned on the counter, watching as he took another forkful without even looking away from you.

"It’s perfect," he said between bites, almost reverently. "You’re perfect."

You rolled your eyes at the dramatics, though you couldn’t help smiling. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a few mechanics watching with amused grins, and even Toto walking past with his coffee tiramisu, giving the faintest shake of his head like he’d seen it all before.

When Kimi finally slowed down enough to actually breathe between bites, you reached over and stole a tiny piece from his plate.

"Hey!" he protested, eyes wide.

"You wouldn’t even let me have a bite if I didn’t take it now," you replied, savoring the sweetness.

He shook his head, pretending to be scandalized, but the way he pulled you closer by the wrist said otherwise. The garage was still alive with celebration, but in that moment, the two of you had your own little world- one where victory tasted like biscoff cheesecake and every smile felt like home.

The podium ceremony had been the usual blur of champagne spraying, national anthems, flashes of cameras catching every smile and every lift of the trophy. You watched from the side, heart swelling with pride, but your attention was already on the fact that the biscoff cheesecake already had a slice taken from an eager Kimi who prioritised eating a slice before his podium.

When Kimi stepped down from the podium, he was intercepted almost instantly by a trackside interviewer. The microphone was shoved toward him, the reporter grinning brightly.

"Kimi, an incredible drive today," they began. "Talk us through that race, the pace, the strategy, what was going through your mind?"

Kimi adjusted the brim of his cap, his voice carrying mischief. "Honestly?" he said, glancing briefly toward the camera with bright eyes. "I just kept thinking… the faster I finish this, the faster I can get to my cheesecake made by my beautiful girlfriend."

The crowd erupted in laughter, and even the interviewer stumbled for a second before laughing along.

"Your cheesecake?" they echoed, clearly amused.

"Yeah," Kimi replied with absolute seriousness. "Biscoff. Waiting for me in the garage. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since this morning."

The camera zoomed closer, and you almost choked when you noticed it- a faint smudge of caramelized biscoff on the corner of his mouth. You could see exactly when the interviewer noticed too, their eyes flicking to the spot before politely ignoring it.

"He’s already had a bite," one of the mechanics murmured beside you, grinning.

Kimi, blissfully unaware, wrapped up the interview in record time, giving short but polite answers before waving to the fans. The moment he stepped off camera, his eyes immediately started scanning for you.

When he reached you, you raised an eyebrow, tapping your own cheek with a knowing smile.

"What?" he asked, confused for half a second until you reached up and wiped the smudge away with your thumb.

"You couldn’t wait, could you?" you teased.

"One bite," he admitted sheepishly, leaning in so only you could hear. "It was worth it."

"He had a whole slice" I mock whisper to the cameras that was still trailing after us. "Don't let his lies fool you" As he shouts in mock offence as we went back to Mercedes.

I LOVE BISCOFF 🥀 its so pricey every damn time tho whyyyy :(((( i like it with the drinks but like imagine normal ones are like 180 and the biscoff is like 280, i dont have money for that big guy. Thats more than my allowance for the day

Dividers from @enchanthings

Moved accounts to @rosiel-leclerc04

Princess of Boten

Charles Leclerc x Haitani!Reader

-Charles never connected that his girlfriend is actually related to the Haitani twins of Boten, But one morning in his home race to his surprise heart attack he sees his beautiful girlfriend flanked by the said Twins.

The Monaco sun was unforgiving that day, bouncing off carbon fiber and glittering cars as mechanics buzzed around like bees. Everyone was on edge. It was race weekend. But nothing could have prepared the paddock for what happened next.

Security stiffened. Phones slipped from hands. Conversations died mid-sentence.

Walking side by side, dressed in black like they owned the circuit, were Ran and Rindou Haitani.

Their presence alone felt like a declaration of war.

People stepped back as they moved through the paddock with calculated calm, drawing stares from drivers and teams alike. Whispers filled the air.

"What the hell are they doing here?"

"Aren’t they from Japan’s underground? Why Monaco?"

"Who are they here for?"

And then they stopped. Right in front of you.

You had just jogged out from the motorhome in a rush, panicking because you’d left your pass inside. You were supposed to be heading to Charles' garage but couldn't get past security. You didn't even notice the chaos behind you until—

"Princess," Ran said, tone low and smooth, as if it was perfectly normal to call you that in the middle of the paddock.

Rindou stepped beside him, offering your paddock pass like he’d carried it for you the whole time. "You always forget something. Told you we should've walked you here."

Everyone was staring now. Not at the Haitanis, but at you. You, looking like you’d just rolled out of Charles Leclerc’s bed (because you had) in your oversized hoodie, messy hair, and socks in slides.And then they stopped. Right in front of you.

You had just jogged out from the motorhome in a rush, breath caught in your throat, heart racing faster than the cars. Panic bloomed in your chest. You had left your paddock pass behind. Security was already raising a brow, holding a firm arm out to block your path toward Charles’ garage.

You opened your mouth to explain, fumbling for words, when the world behind you fell silent.

The heavy click of expensive shoes met the pavement. Calm, measured. And then—

"Princess," Ran said, his voice a deep murmur that curled through the air like smoke. He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitching into a lazy smile, like this was the most natural thing in the world.

You turned, blinking once, then again.

There they were. Ran, tall and composed, standing like he owned the entire grid, while Rindou came to a stop beside him with a slight huff, eyes trained on you with something dangerously close to exasperated affection.

Rindou held out your paddock pass with two fingers, letting it dangle in front of you. "You always forget something," he said, voice cool but soft, more amused than annoyed. "Told you we should’ve walked you here."

Your hand reached out on instinct, cheeks heating with embarrassment as you took the pass from him. The moment you touched it, he curled his fingers gently around yours for just a second — warm, grounding — before letting go.

"I didn’t think I’d need a full escort," you muttered, trying to make light of it, but your voice came out quieter than you intended.

Ran chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with a gloved hand, uncaring of the sea of eyes around you. "Look at you. Wearing that hoodie like you didn’t just sneak out of someone's bed."

He leaned down slightly, voice lowering like he was sharing a secret. "Charles still asleep?"

Your breath caught. Rindou elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

"Don’t tease her," he said, rolling his eyes. But his hand moved to the small of your back anyway, steady and protective, nudging you forward toward the gate. "Come on. Let’s get you to the garage before someone tries to take a picture."

And just like that, the Haitani brothers flanked you on either side, a wall of designer black and dangerous warmth. No one dared speak. No one dared move.

There you were, standing between two men the paddock had no business seeing this side of town, Ran and Rindou Haitani. And they weren’t just there, they were close, flanking you with the casual danger of men who didn’t need to announce themselves. Everyone around had already taken several steps back, clearing a path like nature itself knew better than to get in their way.

Ran leaned forward, unfazed by the growing silence, and gently brushed something invisible off your cheek with the back of his fingers. The motion was slow, deliberate. Protective in a way that made people’s skin prickle.

The paddock collectively held its breath.

Rindou followed up just as casually, reaching over to adjust the hood of your oversized sweatshirt — the same one Charles had tossed you this morning before he left. He smoothed the fabric at your shoulders, eyes flicking around to make sure it sat right, fingers brushing against your neck like he’d done it a thousand times before.

"You good?" Ran asked, voice low and smooth, as if you weren’t in the middle of one of the most watched venues in the world.

"Did Leclerc feed you?" Rindou added, eyes narrowing just slightly as his gaze finally cut to the Ferrari driver approaching.

You blinked, confused by the sudden sharpness in their tone until you realized what they were really asking. "Yeah. He made crepes this morning."

Charles barely had time to react before you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him, your face buried in his chest.

"There you are," you mumbled, voice muffled against his race suit. "I was distracted by my brother's visit and forgot my pass, and security wouldn’t let me through, and it’s your home race, and I didn’t want to be late—"

You kept rambling, eyes bright with worry and sleepiness, completely unaware of the way Charles had gone stiff in your arms.

Not because of you. Because behind you, two very dangerous men were staring him down like they were already calculating how deep the harbor was.

Ran’s arm had dropped from your shoulders, now resting loosely in his pocket, but his stare was anything but relaxed. Rindou stood just a step behind, arms crossed, watching Charles like he was a threat no one had fully dealt with yet.

The driver’s hand hovered awkwardly in the air before resting carefully at your waist, offering a small, nervous smile to the brothers.

But then, like a switch had flipped, the tension dissolved.

Ran’s features softened first. He exhaled, long and slow, then looked down at the two of you with a lopsided grin. "Alright. Guess we can let this slide. You do look happy."

Rindou gave a quiet snort, unfolding his arms and nudging Ran with his elbow. "We’ll head out. Don’t wanna spook the poor grid any more than we already have."

You peeked over your shoulder, still clinging to Charles’ side. "You're not staying?"

Ran raised a brow at you, feigning offense. "What, and hover like watchdogs? Nah, princess. We came to check on you, that’s all."

"Besides," Rindou added, glancing at Charles one last time, "he should be the one hovering now."

Then, with all the mischief of someone who knew exactly how terrifying his reputation was, he stepped forward and clapped a hand on Charles’ shoulder.

"Take care of her," he said, tone light but undeniably firm. "You’re not just dating some girl from the paddock."

Ran leaned in as well, voice dropping just low enough for Charles to hear. "You’re dating our sister, The princess of Bonten."

Charles, brave as ever, managed a small nod. "I know," he said. "I will."

The twins exchanged a look of approval.

"Good man," Ran said, giving you one last affectionate glance before turning away.

Rindou offered a two-finger salute. "Don’t forget your pass next time, princess." As he hold out his black card to you, while Ran shoves him off and hold his card to you, before they start a fight because of their you like one of them better bribe, you pluck the two cards and shoo them away.

And just like that, the Haitani brothers slipped back through the paddock crowd, leaving stunned silence in their wake.

You turned back to Charles, tugging at his sleeve. "They’re not that scary, right?"

He gave a weak laugh, still processing everything. "They… definitely love you."

"Of course they do," you said, grinning. "I’m their favorite."

And in a distance, the paddock finally remembered how to breathe.

Meanwhile in the gc...

Lando:

Guys… WHO GOT THE Haitani TWINS IN THE PADDOCK?!

Oscar:

Security legit looked like they were about to scrap the entire grid out of fear.

Carlos:

I locked eyes with Ran for like a blink and thought I saw my life flash before me.

George:

Same. One of them looked through me like I was scenery.

Then they were pacing next to Y/N like she was royalty and she was glowing.

Kimi:

Rindou gently fixing her hoodie and calling her "princess"? My brain malfunctioned.

Charles:

I… I don’t even remember slipping my arm around her. I just… froze.

Max:

I want a meeting with security. My soul nearly left my body. And people calls me mad max...

Lewis:

Pretty sure they only left after giving Charles that “take care of our sister” look?

Carlos:

They were doting on her like she was heir to a throne. And Ran dropped the “princess of Bonten” line. I still can’t.

Lando:

I thought I was here for F1, but now I'm just here to witness Charles... Bag the princess of Japan's most feared crime syndicate...

Kimi:

Guys... I think I saw Yuki fainted...

Ollie:

I saw that too....

Guys I don't know how to actually do this but hopefully people like it

NEW ACCOUNT : @rosiel-leclerc04

WILL BE TRANSFERRING ACCOUNTS

As of aug 11,2025 i will be transferring my fics to another account that I will attatch here later. So all the current fics will be edited to link to my new account and new ones especially the series will be updated there.

NEW MASTERLIST

F1 Masterlist

Princess of Boten

Charles Leclerc x Haitani!Reader

-Charles never connected that his girlfriend is actually related to the Haitani twins of Boten, But one morning in his home race to his surprise heart attack he sees his beautiful girlfriend flanked by the said Twins.

She's Real!

Oscar Piastri x Reader

-Where the grid didn't believe Oscar has a girlfriend.

Love is for those who are present

Ollie Bearman x Estrange!Leclerc! Reader

-Where Ollie Bearman accidentally revealed his 2 year relationship with global soloist from SM Entertainment based in UK, and apparently she's a Leclerc?

Smudge of Biscoff

Kimi Antonelli x Reader

-You’ve been dating an F1 driver since before his f2 career, and now that he’s in the thick of the championship fight, your relationship is the calm in his storm. The world sees a rookie competitor; you see the boy kimi, who loves your baking.

Toto’s Favorite Intern

Platonic! F1 x Gen Z!Reader

– Where you, Y/N Wolff, Toto’s niece who became the Social Media Intern in Mercedes, turn the paddock upside down. How will they handle this hellion? - Fic updated in @rosiel-leclerc04