ollie bearman x reader, tripping over thin air
~ from hand scribbles series (tell me an oddly specific situation/state of mind and I'll rec/write a fic about it)
"Hey, be careful! Wouldnāt want you tripping over more air!"
situation : "trying to be nonchalant and mysterious in front of ur crush and tripping on air and falling face down"
Three lettersāthe signature of both a blessing and a curse for Ollie Bearman.
Maybe it wasnāt that dramatic from his point of view. After all, the Brit was one of the sweetest and most easygoing guys on the grid, and his relationship with that girl felt like the most natural thing in the world.
But without even realizing it, when a distant switch flicked in his headāone he never even thought existedāshe became his biggest problem.
They had been through everything together. Ever since they met, it was clear they completed each other perfectly, in their shared similarities and their many differences, bringing a lighthearted atmosphere wherever they went.
Whether it was grabbing a questionable kebab from the little spot near the school where he had studied after training with Thomas, or heading off for a weekend getaway togetherāsometimes with Kimi, or the friends they had in common.
And the best part? There was never any need to impress each other. No last-minute outfit upgrades, no spraying on the most expensive cologne, no planning vacations in luxury resorts or dining in Michelin-starred restaurants.
Because all they needed was their bondāthat invisible thread that tied them together, woven through sweet smiles and effortless laughter.
But that switch had flipped in Ollieās head, and from the moment it did, he couldnāt ignore the voice reminding him that he had fallen for her. That he wanted only her by his side.
And that was a massive problem.
Because when youāve known the simplicity of friendshipāthe unspoken words, the inside jokes that make you laugh in a crowd of a millionāyou also know that most people who fall for their best friend, especially one they spend so much time with, feel like itās the end of the world.
In a way, it was the end of the world for the Brit. He stopped texting her as freely as before, second-guessing every word at least a thousand times. His laughter turned nervous when she was around. He found himself trying to impress her at every chanceāonly to earn the sharp, teasing remarks that were so characteristic of her.
Whether it was about friendship, life goals, or simply the championship he was competing in.
He wouldnāt admit it out loud, but he needed to prove himselfānot just to the world, but to her.
And if that meant playing it extra cool, then so be it.
"Youāve been awfully quiet," she said, hands buried in the pockets of her jacket, a scarf wrapped around her neck, and a small bag of M&Ms tucked in one of them as they walked along the row of team tents.
"Me?" Ollie furrowed his brows, rolling the family pass Hitech GP had given him between his long fingers as they waited for his little brotherās British F4 race at Brands Hatch.
"You have. Which is weird, because you never shut up," she teased.
"Maybe Iām just focused."
She looked up at him, her gaze meeting his deep brown eyes. He was much taller than her.
The wind had tousled her hair, which still looked impossibly soft despite being tied back in a small bun. She tucked her chin deeper into her scarf, shielding herself from the crisp autumn air that made spectators in Englandās racing season prone to sore throats.
"Or maybe youāre just stressing."
"About what would I be?" he asked, wetting his lips, his thick accent making her nose scrunch up in that way she always did when he spoke.
"I donāt know, maybe the championship," she said with a shrug. "Hadjar, for example."
"Isack? What has he got to do with me?"
"Iām just assuming, itās cool," she relented, shrugging again as the wind picked up. Mechanics rushed to secure the team tents as the cars rolled in from qualifying, and the first drivers jumped out for a quick debrief before the afternoon race.
"So whatās your pre-race ritual these days? Aside from stressing," she asked with a playful grin, her eyes flickering toward the rising stars of the sportāthe same eyes that had led him straight into the most dangerous trap of all.
"Oh, you know, just the usual. A little stretching, mental prepā¦ getting in the zone."
Was he really just making small talk? Missing her playful cue entirely?
And what was that tone?
"Mental prep."
"Getting in the zone."
"Mmm. And the āzoneā is working for you?" she teased, confused by his behavior.
"Clearly," the driver answered with a fake, cocky grin just as, in the distance, Thomas and Leo Robinson approached, helmets in hand, coming to say hi.
The great curse that bore the name of that girlāwith her sweet smile, her youthful eyes, and the carefree spirit of someone who lived life as if nothing was too big to weigh her down.
Ollieās foot caught on absolutely nothing.
No cracks. No cables. No loose pavement. Nothing.
Just pure, unfiltered betrayal.
And so, his six-foot-something frame lurched forward, as if shoved by an invisible outfielder standing on the sidelines, watching his demise with a chest full of satisfaction.
Anyone else, sensing an imminent fall, would have thrown out their hands, relying on reflexes developed after too many childhood tumbles.
It was happening both too fast and unbearably slow, and she had to bite her lip to keep from bursting into laughter. The thud of his body hitting the asphalt was so loud that a few mechanics turned around to check if whoever had fallen was still in one piece.
"ā¦Is ātripping over airā part of the ritual?" she asked as Thomas walked up, giving her a playful nudge on the shoulder.
"Yes. Itās for balance," the younger Bearman quipped, watching his brotherāwho had fully surrendered to fateālie face-down on the ground, one cheek pressed against the cold pavement. A lifeless sprawl, as if he were the tragic victim of an unsolvable crime.
He had just eaten pavement in front of the entire paddock.
And, worst of all, in front of her.
"Mmm. Seems very effective," she grinned, offering him a hand.
As if the last shred of dignity he had left begged him to get up on his own, brushing the dust from his knees with great determination.
Her eyes sparkled with amusement, a smug grin plastered on her young face, and he knewāhe knewāthat she would never let him live this down.
"Maybe thatās why you lost traction in the last race. Shouldāve tripped in the garage before qualiā" Thomas smirked, setting his helmet down on a cart in their teamās tent while Leo sipped from his water bottle.
"You are literally the worst person I know."
As the boys kept talking, she walked a few steps behind them, hiding her laughter in the warmth of her scarf while a painfully embarrassed Ollie scrambled to come up with an excuse for what had just happened.
As if she didnāt already know.
As if she couldnāt see that it was just a dumb, desperate attempt to prove he was on the level of those fighting for a championship, the ones who passed their driving tests on the first try, the ones who could always be there for the people they loved.
He had nothing less than them.
Just like they both knew that, sooner or later, for one reason or another, that switch would become something more than a curse.
And it would finally become what they both truly wantedāsomething that didnāt need to impress or prove itself.
Thomas and Ollie turned, just in time to see her stumble, struggling to keep her balance with wide eyesārealizing, too late, that the invisible outfielder wasnāt done messing with them.
"Hey, be careful! Wouldnāt want you tripping over more air!" Ollie taunted.
She flipped him off in response.
this is such a me thing... (requested!)
