#Australian Grand Prix

[cadillacjohnf1]

highkey this little guy was the real Driver of the Day... p16 to p4 AND one of just 2 rookies to finish the race? Impressive

[leaawrites]

Bad Luck

Isack Hadjar x fem!reader

Summary: after his crash in Australia, she's there to console him and cheer him up again.

Warnings: mentions of Helmut Marko, angst, fluff, mentions of car crashes, swearing, friends to lovers, I feel so sorry for him

Wordcount: 2.3k

Masterlist

The rain was slowly falling from the sky. Little drops were hitting the roof every now and then, but no major storm had been announced yet. It couldn’t even be classified as class 1 rain.

The track was wet though, no racing line developing yet as all twenty cars were lined up in their starting grid, waiting for the formation lap to start.

Standing in the middle of the VCARB garage, Y/n had her hands clasped together in front of her mouth, watching the screen as the lights turned on and Lando Norris began slowly driving in front, leading the field. Her eyes were focused on another car though. A white car standing in the box for P11. Inching forward, ready to start.

The camera switched, showing the front, Lando warming up his tires and Oscar following suit. Her eyes were frantically searching the screen, trying to find his car, making sure he was okay. Until he was directly in the middle of the screen. The back of the car in the pit wall.

Letting out a breathless gasp, she focused entirely on him. Isack was still sat in the car as the Marshals came running towards him, all of the other drivers slowly getting back into position.

“Shit,” she mumbled as she watched the montage of footage playing in front of her. His car on the track, doing good, then his wheels hit the white stripe and he looses control of his car, crashing into the barriers.

Different angles were shown, all indicating the same: this wasn’t all his fault. The track was slippery, this was his first race, his first time on inters. It was bound to happen, it wasn’t ideal but foreseeable. Still it made him feel miserable.

Standing at the side, surrounded by Marshals, watching his car being towed and the track being cleared, his head hung low the whole time. Hand on his helmet, his visor up enough so he could see properly. But she couldn’t see him. She saw his emotions in his posture, his shoulders slumped down, heavy breaths falling in and out of his lungs. But she couldn’t see him.

Taking the headphones from her head, she didn’t wait for more information from him over the radio or from Pierre, his race engineer before she made her way out of the garage and towards the paddock. Trying to catch a glimpse of him walking towards the motor home.

Soon enough, she caught sight of cameras focused on someone walking. Taking pictures and videos of the scene unfolding. Stalking towards him, she tried reaching his side as quickly as possible, though someone was faster. Anthony Hamilton walked by his side, patting his back, hugging him, telling him that it was alright, that he was better than that. He knew what it was like for drivers to fail, having to console his son more than once under the immense pressure of the sport.

His hand still holding onto his eyeport, shoulders sinking with every step he took further away from the track. He wasn’t alright at all.

She knew how much he loved Lewis as a driver, this was as special to him as it hurt that it happened like that. His endless talks about being able to drive with his idols over the summer break seemed unnecessary now. All his animated words tasted bitter sweet all of a sudden.

Following him suit into the motorhome, she tried stopping his fast step by calling out to him. But he was basically running away from her. Walking faster every time he could hear her voice calling out for him to slow down so she could catch up to him. She couldn’t see him like this. Not after he told her he would get points for her today.

Shutting the door to his driver room behind him, Isack leaned against it, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath in. Finally taking off his helmet and letting himself fall to the bottom of his emotions. Tears falling from his eyes with him.

“So, so stupid,” he mumbled under his breath. Squeezing his eyes to stop them from tearing up, but nothing made the tears stop falling. Especially not her voice on the other side of the door.

Softly trying to get him to open the door and let her in. Let her console him like she’d done countless times over the years after a bad race in F2 or F3. Though this was different. This was F1. This was where he was supposed to show the world that he deserved the seat he was given and not someone else. He knew how quickly it could be over, he’d seen it countless times before. This sport wasn’t easy, it wasn’t forgiving.

“Isack, please,” her voice rang through.

He could see her behind his closed eyelids, forehead leaning against the door, trying to get her own tears from staying inside, hand pressed against the door as if she could push it open, but she couldn’t.

His hand searched for the lock, fingers straying over it. He could make her understand that he didn’t want her there so easily, that he was fine on his own and didn’t need her soft tone as she held him. But he knew that wasn’t as easy, because he wanted her. Over their years of friendship, it was her who calmed him down the best. It was her who made him feel secure in himself and his abilities. It was her who got him through every set back.

Standing in front of the door for a few more seconds, she waited for the click of the lock falling on her ears. But it didn’t come, and when he didn’t try getting her to go away as well, she slowly pushed down the door handle, peeking inside to see if he was still leaning against the wall.

Her eyes found his body slumped over itself on the small seating area. He didn’t look up at her as she closed the door and sat next to him. Her hand falling on his back, rubbing slow circles over his fireproof. Laying her head on his shoulder and leaving a kiss on his back, she tried settling his breath by breathing with him.

“It was so stupid,” he broke the silence between them, finally lifting his head to look at her. His eyes were red and puffy. Rimmed with sadness and disappointment.

“It was your first time out in the rain in an F1 car, Isack. You’re not the first one it happened to. Even Stroll crashed in the formation lap and he’s been here way longer than you,” she tried reasoning with him. “Nobody blames you for anything.”

“Are you serious? Have you not seen the pictures? I was totally shit out there, I don’t even know why I’m still here,” he said, looking at her with angry eyes.

She knew how he could get, how his anger got the best of him when he was under stress and frustrated. It wasn’t meant harmful, it was a fight or flight reaction.

“C’était tellement stupide,” he muttered, standing up and pacing around the small room. “How can anyone be so stupid and crash in the formation lap? It’s the easiest part of the race.”

“I was 11th, do you understand that? I qualified the best as a Rookie and people were expecting something good from me and I completely destroy everything.”

“I couldn’t even get the points I promised you,” he mumbled, his voice growing smaller as he looked her way. Seeing her own gaze laced with tears.

“That doesn’t matter, Isack.” Standing up, she walked over to him, holding his shoulders before pulling him into a hug. “All that matters is that you’re alright.”

Feeling his arms tighten around her waist, she held him closer, letting him decide when he was ready to let go. They stood close like that for a few minutes before he lifted his head to look at her, still holding her close though.

“You’ll do better next week,” she whispered, wiping away a tear that escaped his eye. Holding his cheek, she couldn’t help the rapid beating of her heart as they were so close, neither giving a sign of wanting to move away.

“What if I won’t?” He asked in the same hushed tone.

“You will. You’re too talented not to.”

A small smile creped on his face at her words, a blush rising up his neck as her fingertips slipped into his hair, slowly brushing through it in comfort.

“What about you changed out of your race suit and we go back to the garage?” she asked, stepping back. Leaving a hollow ache in both their chest at the loss of contact.

“Alright.” Isack nodded his head as he watched her retreat from the room. Letting out a deep breath that collected itself in his lungs over the last couple minutes.

He looked better as he came out of his driver’s room, seeing her already waiting with her back leaned against the back of the wall.

“You ready to go back?” she asked, putting her phone away and standing up straight.

As they were on their way out, walking side by side, his manager stopped the two of them.

“I know it’s shit right now, but you still need to go to the media pen for interviews,” he told them, two umbrellas in his hand, making Isack nod.

“Can she come with me?” he asked as they made their way outside, the rain still falling steadily, falling down on the fabric of the umbrella. Him and her were sharing one while his manager walked beside them under his own.

“Of course,” he answered, smiling at her.

Isack wasn’t one of the big guys, so not every journalist tried getting a word out of him as they entered the media pen, but he was the main attraction for interviews at the moment, so a good amount was already waiting for him. He was answering every question as calmly as he could, glancing to his left every now and then to make sure she was still waiting for him.

‘This isn’t the time to cry again,’ he tried telling himself as he felt the emotions coming back up his chest.

Finishing up his media duties, he walked to her side again, feeling her hand taking his own in comfort. She could identify his thoughts without having to look at him. She knew him good enough that this would still haunt him as long as he didn’t do better.

The rest of the grand prix was quiet for them. Shortly after the restart, Jack and Carlos crashed and after the rain came back heavier towards the end, chaos broke lose on track. They watched it all happen from the garage, his arm draped over her shoulders to hold her close, even as he talked with his race engineer he made her stand close enough so he could hold her fingertips in his.

Yuki finished just out of the points at the end of the race, but the team was still proud of the progress they made over the off season. They were confident they were going to get a good amount of points this season.

Walking out of the paddock, on their way back to the hotel, Isack was stopped by a few fans and even a journalist or two, but one took a bit too far in her opinion with his question.

“What are your thoughts on Helmut Marko saying, that he finds it embarrassing for you to cry after the crash?” One of them asked, holding the mic directly in his face.

She could see the hesitation in his reaction as Isack took the words in.

Cutting into the space between the mic and Isack, she answered, “He’s a pussy for being afraid to cry, or saying that it’s embarrassing to cry. Also sexist in that sense, he wouldn’t say the same about a woman I bet,” before pulling him away from the crowd. Holding his hand in her own and tracking him towards a quieter part outside the paddock, away from all the prying eyes and hungry journalists.

“Thanks,” Isack mumbled, looking down at his shoes, his gaze flickering over to their hands still intertwined, not moving an inch to keep her by his side like this.

It wasn’t a secret in his close circle that he had been feeling more than friendship and with his clinginess throughout the race, everyone at VCARB was already suspecting that things would change between them sooner or later.

“Don’t worry about that,” she said, swinging their hands back and forth. “I meant what I said earlier, you’re too talented to let this get you down. It’s also not your first set back and see where you are now. A proper F1 driver.”

“A F1 driver without a proper start though,” he chuckled dryly.

“Who cares about starts anyway? Nobody will remember that by at least the end of the season.”

“You’re too nice to me,” he mumbled. “I just yelled at you two hours ago.”

“I know that you don’t mean it that way. I know you too good,” she mused.

“I’m glad you do. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably have a hundred breakdowns a day.”

“Probably.”

Looking at her, his voice was quieter even with the laugh escaping his mouth after her answer. Her eyes never straying far from his own gaze until they flickered lower, settling on his lips for a short second before flying up again. Swallowing hard as she saw the small smile form on his lips in the corner of her eyes. He’d caught her slipping up.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you too,” she whispered, before leaning up towards him. Connecting their lips and making him forget all about the events that took place a few hours ago.

[takimakiiiii]

comforting oscar after the australian gp 💔

oscar piastri x fem!reader

themes: angst, comfort

wc!: 711 words (short because im still processing this entire race)

a/n: WHAT IF I DIED HUH KILL ME NOW. mb yall 😞 guys let me tell you i SOBBED when oscar spun out and it made my heart break when he managed to get back into the race. I KNOW HES GOT THE POTENTIAL OF A WDC NEXT THIS YEAR WILL BE HIS YEAR‼️‼️

enjoy this little angsty blurb i made whilst half crying 🤪

The car ride to the hotel was bitter in silence. You knew better than to try and start a conversation after what had just happened. He was absolutely devastated, not a word left Oscar’s lips on the ride back. With a heavy heart you led him inside the hotel and back to your room. 

The second the door shut behind you Oscar was in your arms, tears streaming down his face. Grief overtaking him. The two of you collapsed onto the ground as you pulled him into your arms. Shaking and sobbing, Oscar cried into your shoulder. Your heart clenched in agony seeing him in such pain. 

He had everything in the palm of his hand and out of nowhere it vanished and he’d spun out. Everything he’d been fighting for in those 53 something laps had been lost in less than a second. It was harsh and cruel and he didn’t deserve it at all.

All the hype that had build up to be an enormous pressure on his shoulders that weekend had left him drowning in the deep end. 

It was so unfair.

He didn’t deserve it and certainly not at his own home race. Everything had been against him and with the entire world there watching, everything had exploded. 

You wished you could make it all disappear. That the spin out had never happened and Mclaren finished with a double podium . . . but here you were. 

You patted Oscar on the back soothingly, pressing kisses to his forehead as he continued to sob uncontrollably. Your heart breaking as he hugged you tighter. 

“I’m so, so sorry, Oscar.” you whispered, tears welling up in your own eyes. Pressing another kiss to his temple you hugged him tighter, running your fingers through his hair soothingly.

“I was so stupid,” he looked down miserably, “I shouldn’t have pushed it so far.” 

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to keep your tears at bay. Cupping Oscar’s face in your hands, you rested your forehead to his, tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. 

“Don’t say that, Oscar. You did amazing out there, the weather was awful and you had Max on your ass the entire time, you were under so much pressure.” you whispered, voice cracking. 

He leant into your touch, his hands finding yours as he gazed into your eyes. He looked so destroyed it made your heart clench. 

“Why are you crying?” he whispered, voice fragile and desperate.

His cheeks were flushed pink and his eyes still glazed with tears. He managed to force a smile but you could tell there was nothing but disappointment and sadness behind it. You cupped his cheek in your hand and caressed it tenderly. Your heart broke for him, you wished you could kiss him and make it all go away.

“Oh, Oscar,” you whispered because he was the one now comforting you instead of the other way around. A small gasp left his lips as you pulled him into a hug, wrapping your arms around him so tight it felt like if you let him go he’d disappear. 

“You deserved that win, you worked so hard for it and I’m so sorry it had to turn out like this.” you whispered, holding back a sob as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He nestled his face in your neck, his sobs reduced to sniffles against your skin. You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You’re amazing, Oscar. I’m so proud of you and how much you achieved this weekend.” you said, pulling away to admire his face. You pushed the hair out of his eyes and wiped away stray tears. Blotches of pink were splattered across his nose from crying and his eyes were still swollen and puffy. You knew that next year it would be his year, he would win the Australian Grand Prix. This year had been unlucky and he’d fought relentlessly to climb back into the points. If anyone could do it, it was Oscar, you were positive of it. 

“Next year I know it’ll be your year, okay?” you promised, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He nodded, meeting your eyes and managing a small smile. But it was enough.

a/n: thanks for reading! sorry if it’s short :)

[cemeterygrace]

badges for your australian grand prix weekend needs

[oscar-piastri]

CHARLES LECLERC after the Australian Grand Prix

[httpsserene]

me, laying in bed, hearing the words “lando norris you are the championship leader,” after dealing with an offseason full of everyone bashing him after last season:

(i know it’s only the first race but i don’t give a fuck. i will carry this under my belt like i carry charles winning at monaco.)

[trashytracktales]

Can't wait for you to see the one lil video of Lando walking into the paddock.

In my defense. It looked at me first!!!

GUYS!! He looks so good I’m sobbing. What’s in the Melbourne air I’m so fr 🫵🏻😐

Look at that criminal walk, and the way that sweater hangs off him, knowing damn well there’s nothing underneath?? Also the curls?? The lack of respect for MY well-being I swear.

[lewisarchive]

Sir Lewis Hamilton and Fernando Alonso during the drivers' parade at the Australian GP (2017)

[monzaaasharl]

Mama McLaren

A/n:: Mark is my favourite F1 dilf. During the making of this I accidentally posted it so this took me even longer than it should have 😝, I also had an insane writer's block, i got this request many months ago and I've only just got around to finishing it. Mixed with this request here!

Pairings:: Mark Webber x Reader, Oscar Piastri x Reader, Lando Norris x Reader

Summary:: Y/n Webber starts to act very motherly towards the McLaren boys

Genre:: Fluff

Warnings:: There aren't any

@pear-1206

Driver x Reader Masterlist Monzaaasharl

It was the third race of the season, but it wasn't just any race, oh no, it was the Australian Grand Prix. Not only was it your husband's home race but also the driver he manages.

Oscar, he was like a son to you with the amount of time he spent with your little family. Well little as in you, your husband, your 21 year old son Noah, and your 17 year old daughter Jasmine.

The Australian Grand Prix was something that the Webber family always looked forward to. And this year, just like the last, you'd be watching the race from the McLaren garage.

"Have you got everything both of you?", you asked your two kids knowing they would forget something.

"Yeah, we've got everything, mum", you received as a response.

"Come on, we don't want to be late now", Mark said knowing fully well there was not a possibily they would be late, but wanted them to get there early to cha to the McLaren boys and give them a small pep talk.

After a peaceful drive in the car through the city, you finally arrived at the paddock.

You made your way through the paddock in your small group, and ended up in the McLaren hospitality.

"How's it goin' you two?" Mark said when he spotted the papaya drivers.

Oscar and Lando both turned around when they heard the familiar voice of the older aussie man.

"Yeah not too bad"

"Everything's going pretty well so far"

"Well we'll just be around if you boys want us", Mark said to both the McLaren boys, not wanting to distract them too much before the race.

"Good luck boys, i know you're going to do amazing", you always felt quite protective over them both.

"Yeah, good luck mate", Noah

"Good luck"

"See ya"

"See you after"

⋆˚✿˚⋆

After an intense Grand Prix and a mix of emotions after seeing Max was out, you found yourself still in the McLaren garage after your husband had left you quickly for the podium ceremony.

Lando had finished third which definitely made you proud, but seeing Oscar so close and just missing out on the podium positions it made you just the slightest bit sad.

When you saw him come back to the garage you made sure to tell him how proud you were of him. He ended up staying with you, Jasmine, and Noah while watching the podium celebrations.

"You did amazing this race, I hope you know that"

"Thank you, I just wish that I could've got onto the podium"

You knew it made him a bit upset knowing he was so close to a podium finish for his home race.

When Mark came back from the podiums he made sure to congratulate Oscar on his race and tell him how well he did even if Oscar didn't feel like he did good enough.

"You did good mate, don't let it bring you down"

"I won't, don't worry"

Oscar made his way to his own family leaving you lot alone.

"Y'know, I always thought after you retired I wouldn't have to worry about someone else racing"

Your husband laughed at your comment and gave you sweet kiss, much to your kids disgust. It didn't matter how old they got, they still didn't like it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are all appreciated!

[formulaforza]

mark webber on oscar piastri: "the absolute standout, the global standout. the way he came through these categories with such speed, giving the opposition a really hard time, he just seems to have this level of maturity. He’s very calm, very mature, very calculating, with a big capacity for information."

[racingliners]

Andrea Kimi Antonelli talks with race engineer Peter Bonnington during the press day of the Australian Grand Prix - Thursday 13th March 2025

(Image taken from Mercedes' instagram story)

[cadillacjohnf1]

[scuderia-hamilton]

imagine if those cars weren’t driven by Lewis and Charles they wouldn’t have made it to Q3 😭

[4l0n50141310]

i can be your angle 😇… or yuor devil 😈

based on the fp1 graphic from the aus gp. bro literally had the devil and angel on his shoulder

[gordonstanheight]

marko spent all week talking shit on other drivers (jack, gabriel, yuki) only for them all to do better than his red bull 2nd seat. as if i needed another reason to discredit his senile opinions

[oscar-piastri]

KIMI ANTONELLI after the Australian Grand Prix