I'm not really sure what I want but I absolutely LOVED the fic "you live in Monaco, but it's not home". It just felt so amazing reading about "my country" (kind of) and the guys making us feel better. I guess you could see this as a kind of part 2 (maybe).
But maybe just a fic where reader is proud of their country, where reader sings their national anthem so proudly when they wins, where they get relived when they meet journalists from their country so they can speak their native language.
Maybe where there's a football game going on where reader's country is facing England, Spain, Italy or whatever! Maybe at one race she sees fans from her country wearing their nations colors!
Again I don't really know what I want, but I loved when we got to embrace our country's I guess.
You can use your creativity on this, and try to come up with more scenarios, I'm sure it'll be fantastic!
Byeeeee 🫶🫶🫶
for japan.
pairing: f1 2025 grid x platonic!japanese!driver!reader
genre: wholesome, emotional, chaotic grid family, national pride, comfort
warning: none just feelings
there was something incredibly emotional about watching Y/N during a podium ceremony.
not because they cried.
not because they were dramatic.
but because every single time the Japanese anthem played, Y/N sang it like they were trying to pour their entire soul into it.
hand over heart.
eyes shining.
voice soft at first before growing stronger.
every.
single.
word.
and the first time it happened, the entire grid noticed.
it was their first win.
chaotic wet race.
everyone expecting a more experienced driver to take victory.
instead, somehow, against all odds, Y/N crossed the line first.
the radio exploded.
their engineer screaming.
the garage losing their minds.
and Y/N?
silent.
completely silent.
just breathing shakily as realization hit.
“P1, Y/N. P1.”
a pause.
then the softest, most broken little:
“…for Japan.”
and honestly?
half the garage nearly cried immediately.
the podium ceremony felt surreal.
champagne spraying everywhere.
crowd roaring.
drivers laughing.
but then the anthem started.
and Y/N immediately straightened.
the shift was instant.
because this wasn’t just about winning for them.
it never was.
they sang quietly at first.
then louder.
eyes fixed somewhere far away.
and the camera caught everything.
the tiny tremble in their smile.
the pride.
the emotion.
the overwhelming realization that after years and years of Japan waiting for another driver to stand at the very top—
someone had finally done it.
the clip went viral immediately.
especially because while everyone else usually stood respectfully during their anthem, Y/N sang.
with their entire chest.
fans online started calling it:
“the most patriotic podium moment in years.”
Yuki understood immediately.
more than anyone else on the grid.
because he knew what it felt like carrying an entire country’s hopes into a sport dominated by Europe.
he knew what it felt like hearing your language in the paddock and instinctively turning toward it because it felt familiar.
safe.
home.
so when Y/N joined the grid, Yuki became protective almost instantly.
not in an obvious way.
but in quiet ways.
making sure translators were available.
checking if they ate properly.
switching to Japanese whenever interviews became overwhelming.
rolling his eyes whenever international media asked weird stereotypical questions.
and Y/N absolutely adored him for it.
there was one moment during media day that the internet never recovered from.
a Japanese journalist had approached Y/N after a brutal triple-header weekend.
the poor reporter looked nervous, probably expecting a rushed answer in English like most drivers gave international press.
instead Y/N’s face lit up instantly.
like instantly.
the exhaustion vanished.
their posture relaxed.
and suddenly rapid Japanese filled the air so quickly that half the nearby drivers physically turned in confusion.
Y/N was smiling so hard.
laughing.
using hand gestures dramatically.
the journalist started laughing too.
and from across the paddock, Lando blinked.
“…i have literally never seen them speak that fast before.”
Oscar nodded slowly.
“I don’t think they’ve breathed once.”
even Yuki was laughing nearby because Y/N looked so relieved.
like after days of forcing themselves to think and speak in another language, they could finally let their brain rest.
later someone asked why they looked so happy during that interview.
Y/N answered honestly.
“sometimes hearing your own language feels like taking a deep breath after holding it in for too long.”
the entire internet collectively went quiet after that.
they were incredibly proud of being Japanese.
not in a loud arrogant way.
but in a deeply sincere way.
they carried small omamori charms in their bags during race weekends.
they bowed instinctively when greeting older team members.
they brought Japanese snacks for mechanics constantly.
they made the entire grid obsessed with convenience store egg sandwiches.
and every time Formula 1 raced in Suzuka?
Y/N became unbearably emotional.
Suzuka weekend genuinely changed them.
the second they landed in Japan, everyone noticed the difference.
they smiled more.
laughed louder.
talked faster.
their eyes practically sparkled the entire weekend.
because this was home.
fans lined the streets holding Japanese flags and homemade signs.
children screamed their name everywhere.
older fans bowed respectfully when they passed.
and Y/N looked overwhelmed by it every single time.
the drivers loved seeing that side of them.
especially because the Japanese fans adored the grid too.
Carlos got gifted snacks by grandmothers.
Charles got called handsome approximately every three seconds.
Kimi looked terrified but honored when fans gave him tiny handmade keychains.
and somehow Y/N became everyone’s unofficial tour guide.
“NO NO YOU HAVE TO TRY THIS.”
“Y/N it is 11 p.m.”
“AND?”
“...fair point.”
one night before Suzuka qualifying, Y/N dragged half the grid to a tiny ramen place they loved growing up.
Max was skeptical.
George asked seventeen questions.
Lando nearly burned his tongue immediately.
and Yuki just sat there watching Y/N laugh so hard they cried.
because he knew how important this was.
for once, Y/N wasn’t adapting to everyone else.
everyone else was stepping into their world.
the anthem thing became emotional for the grid too.
because after a while they started expecting it.
waiting for it.
if Y/N won or got a podium, the cameras automatically cut toward them during the anthem because everyone knew they’d sing every word proudly.
sometimes mechanics sang along quietly too.
sometimes Yuki did.
once, after a particularly emotional home race podium, the camera caught Yuki looking at Y/N during the anthem instead of the flag.
his expression looked almost soft.
proud.
because they were doing it together.
two Japanese drivers on the grid.
representing home together.
carrying that flag together.
there was also this unspoken thing where Japanese journalists became weirdly protective over Y/N.
especially after difficult races.
if international media got invasive or frustrating, the second a Japanese reporter asked a question, Y/N visibly relaxed.
their shoulders dropped.
their voice softened.
and they always bowed slightly afterward in thanks.
one older Japanese journalist once said:
“They carry Japan very gently.”
and honestly that sentence fit perfectly.
because Y/N never treated representing Japan like branding.
they treated it like an honor.
one of the most emotional moments happened after a difficult race where Y/N retired early with a mechanical issue.
they looked devastated.
head lowered while walking through the paddock.
trying not to cry.
then suddenly a little Japanese boy near the barriers yelled:
“Y/N-SENSHU!”
Y/N looked up immediately.
the child was holding a tiny Japanese flag.
“YOU STILL DID YOUR BEST!”
silence.
complete silence.
and Y/N’s expression cracked instantly.
they walked over immediately, crouching near the barrier while the little boy rambled excitedly in Japanese about wanting to become a driver too someday.
by the end of the conversation, Y/N was crying openly.
the next day the photo of them kneeling by the barrier while holding that tiny flag was everywhere online.
captioned:
“representation matters.”
the grid understood that too.
especially younger drivers.
because Y/N inspired people in ways statistics couldn’t explain.
Japanese kids suddenly started karting more.
more fans attended races.
more people believed they belonged in motorsport.
and Y/N carried that responsibility carefully.
sometimes the drivers teased them for it too.
mostly affectionately.
like whenever Y/N started passionately explaining Japanese culture and accidentally turned it into a thirty minute presentation.
or when they aggressively defended Japanese convenience stores.
or when they made everyone remove shoes properly before entering certain places during Suzuka week.
Oscar adapted suspiciously fast.
Lando kept forgetting.
Max got scolded once and looked genuinely ashamed afterward.
but the most emotional moment?
probably Singapore GP.
another win.
another podium.
another anthem.
except this time, near the end of the song, the crowd started singing with them.
not perfectly.
not fluently.
but trying.
thousands of voices softly following Y/N’s lead.
and when the anthem finished, Y/N looked completely overwhelmed.
hands shaking slightly.
eyes glossy.
because in that moment it didn’t feel like they were carrying Japan alone anymore.
the world was singing with them too.
later that night someone asked Yuki what he thought about Y/N representing Japan.
I am officially closing requests for a while! I am so incredibly grateful for all your amazing ideas, but my current to-do list has grown to about 50 requests. 📝✨
To make sure I can give every single one the love and quality it deserves, I need to take a big step back and work through my backlog. Because of this, it’s going to be a long time before I open them up again.
Thank you so, so much for your endless patience, support, and understanding! I can’t wait to share these upcoming pieces with you all. 💌
I am back. I was the one that requested Charles knowing BTS.
So my next request and again if you don’t want to do it that fine, is Stray Kids reader driver during media day a fan asked if they could sign a postcard of their self for them.
I can just imagine the amount of confusion that would happen
With wishes that your inspiration never drys out, 🍁(if it hasn’t been taken yet)
“Wait… That’s YOU?”
Pairing: Stray Kids x Platonic!9thMember!Reader, platonic!F1 Grid x Driver!Reader
A/N: Hey 🍁, and no it hasn't been taken yet :)
Media Day in Formula 1 was, unfortunately, one of Y/N’s least favorite inventions.
Not because she hated fans.
Not because she hated interviews.
But because Formula 1 had somehow created an environment where twenty drivers stood under fluorescent lighting answering the exact same questions fifty-seven times in different wording.
“How are you feeling for this weekend?”
“What are your expectations?”
“How difficult is Turn 3?”
Y/N had perfected the art of smiling politely while mentally dissociating.
She sat in the paddock lounge in full team kit, flipping through briefing notes while the rest of the 2025 grid slowly gathered around.
Lando was already causing problems.
Oscar was pretending not to know him.
Kimi looked like he’d accidentally wandered into a university lecture hall instead of Formula 1.
Ollie was eating something that suspiciously looked like plain bread.
And Y/N?
Y/N was trying to survive.
“Media starts in ten,” her PR manager warned.
She sighed dramatically.
“I suddenly understand why retired drivers disappear into mountains.”
Lewis laughed from across the room.
“You’re twenty-one.”
“And already exhausted.”
“Valid.”
Now, the important thing to understand was this:
The Formula 1 grid knew Y/N was an idol.
Technically.
They knew she was in Stray Kids.
Sort of.
But none of them truly understood the scale of K-pop fame.
To them, it was just:
“Oh yeah, she sings too.”
None of them had processed that Stray Kids were massive.
None of them understood that Y/N wasn’t just “a singer.”
She was the ninth member of Stray Kids.
Maknae.
Professional menace.
And globally recognizable.
Which is why the incident happened.
Media Day was going relatively smoothly.
Y/N answered questions. Did sponsor obligations. Smiled for cameras. Pretended she enjoyed standing still for thirty minutes while photographers screamed her name from seventeen different angles.
Then the fan session started.
Usually harmless.
Usually quick.
Usually.
Fans lined up behind barriers holding hats, posters, mini helmets, photos-
Normal things.
Y/N signed patiently, chatting softly.
Then one fan approached holding a postcard.
“Can you sign this for me?”
“Of course,” Y/N said automatically, reaching for it.
Then she looked down.
And froze.
Because staring back at her-
Was herself.
Not a racing photo.
Not a team portrait.
No.
It was a Stray Kids postcard.
Specifically from a comeback photocard set where she had silver hair and was staring into the camera like she personally knew everyone’s secrets.
Y/N blinked once.
Twice.
The fan smiled innocently.
“Can you sign it?”
Behind her, Lando leaned over curiously.
“…Is that you?”
Silence.
The fan nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes! It’s from the Oddinary era!”
Oscar looked over Lando’s shoulder.
Then immediately started laughing.
“No way.”
The confusion spread through the paddock like a virus.
Charles walked past, paused, and slowly reversed.
“…Why are there two versions of you?”
“It’s a postcard,” Y/N deadpanned.
“Yes, but why do you look like a supervillain?”
“That was the concept.”
Carlos grabbed the postcard next.
“You have photocards?”
The fan gasped.
“YOU DON’T KNOW PHOTO CARDS?”
“Oh no,” Y/N whispered.
It escalated immediately.
Within five minutes, half the grid had surrounded the barrier examining Stray Kids merchandise like archaeologists discovering ancient civilization artifacts.
Kimi held up another photocard carefully.
“She’s glittery.”
“That’s the limited version,” the fan explained seriously.
Ollie frowned at the back.
“There are… collectible poses?”
“There are hundreds,” another fan chimed in.
George looked horrified.
“Hundreds?”
Y/N quietly considered walking into traffic.
Then Lando found the albums.
“Oh my God, there’s more.”
The fans, thrilled beyond belief that Formula 1 drivers were interacting with K-pop merchandise, immediately began showing them everything.
Mini posters.
Albums.
Photocards.
Tour inclusions.
A tiny SKZOO plushie attached to someone’s bag.
Lewis picked up an album carefully.
“This is genuinely impressive packaging.”
“THANK YOU,” the fans cried collectively.
Meanwhile, Y/N had both hands over her face.
“This is the worst day of my life.”
“No,” Oscar corrected calmly, “this is the funniest day of mine.”
And then it somehow got worse.
Because one fan shouted:
“ASK HER WHO HER BIAS IS.”
The drivers blinked.
Charles frowned.
“What’s a bias?”
The fans screamed.
Y/N actually choked on air.
Lando looked delighted.
“Oh this is dangerous.”
“No,” Y/N warned immediately.
“Yes,” Carlos said instantly.
The fans explained.
And suddenly the Formula 1 grid discovered the concept of favorite members.
The betrayal in their faces was immediate.
“So you rank each other?” George asked.
“It’s not ranking!”
“It sounds exactly like ranking,” Max said.
Kimi pointed at Y/N.
“Who’s your favorite?”
Y/N looked personally offended.
“I literally live with them.”
“That didn’t answer the question,” Oscar noted.
The fans were losing their minds now.
At that exact moment, as if summoned by pure chaos-
Bang Chan called.
On speaker.
Because the universe hated Y/N specifically.
“Hey, did media go well-”
Lando grabbed the phone.
“WHO’S HER BIAS?”
There was a long silence.
Then Chan sighed the sigh of a man who had suffered for years.
“Why are race car drivers bothering me?”
“ANSWER THE QUESTION,” Carlos yelled.
Y/N lunged for the phone while the fans screamed louder.
“Give me my phone!”
Chan, traitor that he was, laughed.
“Oh, this is finally happening?”
“CHAN.”
“She likes Hyunjin’s photocards best.”
The paddock exploded.
Y/N looked ready to evaporate.
And because Stray Kids apparently shared one collective brain cell, the rest of the members started joining the call.
Changbin yelling in the background.
Han laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe.
Felix asking if the drivers wanted albums.
Seungmin immediately choosing violence.
“She organizes her photocards by aesthetic.”
“I HATE ALL OF YOU.”
The next hour became complete anarchy.
Fans taught Charles how to pose like an idol.
Lando attempted finger hearts incorrectly.
Kimi carefully examined a photocard like it was an FIA regulation document.
Lewis remained the only calm person present.
“This,” he said thoughtfully, “explains a lot about Y/N.”
“No it doesn’t,” she argued weakly.
“It absolutely does.”
Then someone made the catastrophic mistake of showing the drivers performance videos.
Specifically fancams.
The paddock fell silent.
Because the calm, composed driver they knew-
Was apparently capable of turning into a completely different person on stage.
Can you write something were reader is the younger sister of Charles. She is very close to Charles, Arthur and Lorenzo and often comes to the race. She is also very close friends with the other drivers. She is always smiling and happy but lately she is being more quiet. Reader is feeling a bit more anxious and she is missing their dad...but she doesn't want to tell her brothers about it. They are worried and so are the other drivers. Maybe during one day after the qualification some drivers find her sitting somewhere alone. They talk to her and she starts to open up. They convince reader to talk to Charles and Arthur.
Thank you
"you don’t have to pretend"
Pairing: platonic!f1 grid x leclerc!reader
genre: platonic, comfort, family angst, found family, protective grid
warning: grief themes/missing a parent
a/n: writing this honestly made me tear up a little. grief is such a strange thing because sometimes it gets quieter, but it never fully leaves you. a part of this fic was inspired by losing my own father, and while writing Y/N missing hers, it reminded me a lot of myself. i also kept thinking about Charles Leclerc losing his father at 19, which is close to the age i experienced that loss too. seeing someone continue chasing their dreams, continue living, smiling, loving people, and pushing forward even after something so painful makes me feel like maybe everything will work out eventually. maybe grief never fully disappears, but maybe one day it becomes lighter to carry. 🤍
everyone on the grid knew one thing for certain:
if Y/N Leclerc was in the paddock, you’d hear her before you saw her.
usually it was laughter.
sometimes it was her arguing with Charles over snacks. sometimes it was her stealing ollie's cap and sprinting away while he yelled after her. sometimes it was kimi dragging her around the paddock because they both spotted a dog at the same time.
she was always there.
always smiling. always bouncing between garages. always somehow convincing the drivers to take blurry group selfies at the worst possible moments.
the younger sister of Charles had practically become the grid’s collective little sister too.
Charles spoiled her endlessly.
Arthur let her sit in the Ferrari hospitality kitchen at 2 a.m. while he listened to her ramble.
Lorenzo checked if she ate properly every race weekend.
the grid adored her because she adored them first.
she remembered birthdays. she brought snacks. she congratulated rookies after rough sessions. she sat with drivers who had bad races so they wouldn’t be alone.
and maybe that’s why everyone noticed the change so quickly.
because Y/N going quiet?
that wasn’t normal.
it started small.
she stopped running into Charles’ driver room after sessions.
she stopped posting silly paddock photos.
during media day, instead of sitting with Kimi and laughing at something on his phone, she just smiled faintly and stared off somewhere else.
Lando noticed first.
“she’s tired,” he’d said.
but then Oscar noticed she barely touched her lunch.
Pierre noticed she’d started sitting alone after sessions.
Carlos noticed she flinched whenever someone asked if she was okay.
and Charles—
Charles noticed everything.
he noticed how she forced smiles now.
how she lingered outside the Ferrari garage like she wanted to come in but changed her mind every time.
how she kept saying “I’m fine” too quickly.
he tried asking gently.
“you okay, bébé?”
and she smiled immediately.
“yeah!”
too fast.
too bright.
too fake.
Charles exchanged a look with Arthur from across the paddock.
because that wasn’t their sister.
qualifying in Monza was chaotic.
Ferrari fans were loud as always, the paddock was crowded, emotions were high, and Charles was frustrated after narrowly missing pole.
everyone was busy.
engineers talking.
media running around.
drivers heading back to hospitality.
and somewhere in the middle of all that chaos—
Y/N disappeared.
“has anyone seen her?” Charles asked suddenly, looking around Ferrari hospitality.
Arthur frowned immediately. “I thought she was with Kimi.”
“She wasn’t with me,” Kimi said, already pulling out his phone.
the mood shifted instantly.
because normally Y/N was easy to find.
she gravitated toward people naturally. someone always saw her.
but now?
nothing.
it was actually George who spotted her first.
he’d gone outside to get some air after media obligations when he noticed someone sitting behind one of the paddock buildings near the barriers.
knees pulled to chest.
Ferrari jacket zipped all the way up.
head lowered.
alone.
George slowed immediately.
“…Y/N?”
she looked up too quickly, wiping at her face before he could fully see.
that alone made his chest ache.
because this girl never cried in front of people.
ever.
“hey,” George said softly.
a few seconds later Kimi appeared too, having followed George after overhearing Charles asking around.
the second Kimi saw her expression, his face dropped.
“oh,” he said quietly. “something’s really wrong.”
Y/N immediately tried smiling.
it looked painful.
“I’m okay.”
George crouched slightly in front of her.
“you don’t have to do that.”
“…do what?”
“pretend.”
and that—
that nearly broke her immediately.
Kimi sat beside her first.
not too close.
just enough.
quiet enough that she didn’t feel cornered.
George leaned against the wall nearby, arms folded loosely.
neither of them pushed.
which somehow made it worse.
because Y/N realized they were waiting.
patiently.
gently.
like they actually cared.
and she was so, so tired.
“Charles is worried,” Kimi said softly after a while.
her eyes dropped instantly.
“I know.”
“Arthur too.”
“…I know.”
George tilted his head slightly.
“then why are you hiding from them?”
and her lips started trembling before she could stop them.
“I don’t want them to worry more.”
the words came out cracked.
small.
Kimi frowned immediately. “More?”
and suddenly tears were sliding down her face no matter how hard she tried stopping them.
“I just…” she whispered shakily. “I miss my dad.”
silence.
heavy silence.
because instantly they understood.
not fully—not really—but enough.
grief didn’t disappear just because time passed.
sometimes it waited quietly before crashing into you all over again.
and race weekends made it worse.
because motorsport was everywhere.
Ferrari was everywhere.
family memories were everywhere.
her dad should’ve been there for all of it.
for Charles.
for Arthur.
for her.
“I didn’t wanna say anything because Charles already has so much pressure and Arthur’s trying so hard and Lorenzo worries about everyone and I just—”
her voice broke completely.
“I feel bad because they’re trying to be okay and I’m not.”
Kimi’s expression cracked immediately.
because Y/N was always the one comforting everyone else.
seeing her like this felt wrong.
George sat beside her now too.
“You know,” he said carefully, “your brothers would probably be devastated hearing you felt like you had to hide this from them.”
she wiped at her face angrily.
“I know but every time I think about saying it out loud I feel guilty.”
Kimi shook his head immediately.
“You missing your dad isn’t something to feel guilty about.”
and that sentence—
that one sentence—
made her cry harder.
eventually more drivers quietly joined them.
not because they wanted drama.
but because the grid had become weirdly protective over this girl.
Lando arrived with snacks.
Oscar brought water.
Pierre sat nearby without speaking.
Carlos rubbed her shoulder gently when she cried too hard to talk.
it became this silent little circle of people just…being there.
no cameras.
no headlines.
just family.
the kind you’re born with.
and the kind you accidentally find.
“you should talk to Charles,” Carlos finally said softly.
Y/N immediately shook her head.
“I can’t.”
“yes, you can,” Pierre replied gently.
“He loves you too much to want you hurting alone,” Oscar added quietly.
and honestly?
they were right.
when Charles finally found her, Arthur right behind him, both of them looked terrified.
Charles’ expression changed immediately the second he saw her crying.
“bébé?”
Y/N broke instantly.
because that was her brother.
that was safety.
that was home.
Charles crossed the space so fast she barely had time to stand before he wrapped his arms around her tightly.
Arthur joined them a second later.
and for the first time all weekend—
she stopped trying to act okay.
“I miss him,” she cried into Charles’ shoulder.
Charles held her tighter immediately.
his own eyes watering.
because he understood.
of course he did.
“I know,” he whispered shakily. “I miss him too.”
Arthur pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“You never have to hide that from us.”
and somewhere nearby, the grid quietly looked away to give them privacy.
because sometimes love looked like this.
not podiums.
not trophies.
not cameras.
just siblings holding each other together in the middle of a loud paddock after the world got too heavy again.
later that night, someone posted a blurry photo on instagram.
Charles, Arthur, and Y/N sitting together in Ferrari hospitality long after everyone left.
Y/N tucked between them.
all three smiling softly.
safe again.
and the comments under the post were filled with one collective thought:
the paddock would protect that girl with their lives.
I found you last year and live for all your writings and I have three ideas in which you could write on...any one you can pick from.
1. Driver! Reader being the wedding planner for Charles x Alex.. I mean she full on goes JLo wedding planner movie and the funny and sweet antics that ensue.
2. Reader playing matchmaker for lewis in the gf dept. I mean we have George with the power points giving stats as well as the grid giving their contributions.
3. Driver!Reader spazzing out like most females on the planet for heated rivalry and she's actually seeing/ dating Connor Storrie. Like the grid could've busted in on her watching the show pre/ post race and it just so happened to be a spicy scene.
Thanks so much and have fun
“Operation: Find Lewis Hamilton a Girlfriend”
(platonic!2025 f1 grid x driver!reader
chaotic grid dynamics | george russell and his cursed powerpoint | matchmaking disaster)
author’s note:
before anybody says anything YES this was inspired by the rumors about Lewis Hamilton dating Kim Kardashian and i’m so sad about it 😭 anyway in this fic the grid takes matters into their own hands because apparently they think they know lewis better than he knows himself.
summary:
Y/N decides that Lewis Hamilton deserves somebody who genuinely understands him—not somebody flashy or temporary. Unfortunately for Lewis, this spirals into the entire 2025 grid creating investigations, presentations, statistical analyses, and “candidate evaluations” about what exactly Lewis Hamilton’s type is. Featuring George Russell weaponizing PowerPoint, Charles being dramatic, Max pretending he doesn’t care while contributing anyway, and Lewis realizing way too late that the paddock has turned his love life into a full FIA-regulated operation.
warnings:
none. just emotional support matchmaking and george russell abusing google slides.
The entire thing started because Y/N made one innocent comment.
One.
Tiny.
Comment.
And somehow the entire Formula 1 paddock spiraled into chaos because of it.
The Comment
It happened during media day in Monaco.
Y/N had been sitting in the Mercedes hospitality area, legs tucked underneath her while absentmindedly scrolling through her phone.
Nearby, Lewis was finishing an interview.
George was eating somebody else’s snacks without permission.
Charles was somehow already in Mercedes hospitality despite driving for Ferrari.
Normal paddock behavior.
Then Lewis walked in, exhausted from back-to-back media obligations, and dropped dramatically onto the couch beside her.
“I’m retiring from interviews,” he announced.
“You say that every weekend,” George replied.
Lewis ignored him completely and leaned his head against the back cushion.
Y/N looked over at him for a second before sighing.
“You know what?” she said thoughtfully. “You deserve somebody nice.”
The room went quiet.
George blinked.
Charles lowered his espresso.
Lewis looked suspicious immediately.
“…what does that mean.”
“It means,” Y/N continued casually, “you’re always taking care of everybody else. I think you need someone who takes care of you too.”
Charles immediately pointed at her.
“She’s right.”
George gasped.
“Oh my God,” he whispered. “We need to find Lewis a girlfriend.”
Lewis sat up instantly.
“No.”
Too late.
The operation had already begun.
George Creates a PowerPoint
The first mistake was allowing George Russell access to presentation software.
Because less than twenty-four hours later, Y/N walked into Mercedes hospitality to find George standing in front of a screen with a remote clicker.
The title slide read:
LEWIS HAMILTON ROMANTIC COMPATIBILITY ANALYSIS
Compiled by George and Contributors
Lewis looked physically ill.
“No,” he said immediately. “Absolutely not.”
“Too late,” George replied. “We’ve already gathered research.”
Y/N nearly choked laughing.
“You actually made slides?”
George looked offended.
“There are charts.”
Of course there were charts.
The Contributions Begin
The problem was that everybody on the grid got involved.
Everybody.
Even drivers who pretended they didn’t care somehow contributed.
Slide 4: Personality Traits Lewis Needs
George clicked dramatically.
“Candidate must be emotionally intelligent.”
Charles raised his hand immediately.
“And patient.”
“Correct,” George said.
Oscar spoke up from the back.
“Also someone calm. Because have you seen this man during strategy disasters?”
Lewis pointed accusingly.
“Why are you here.”
Oscar shrugged.
“Free food.”
Max Somehow Participates
The most shocking contributor was probably Max Verstappen.
Who claimed he wanted “nothing to do with this.”
Yet somehow—
He still submitted notes.
Y/N found out when George switched slides.
OBSERVATIONS PROVIDED BY MAX VERSTAPPEN
Lewis stared.
“…Max contributed?”
Max crossed his arms defensively.
“You’re all idiots. Someone had to provide useful information.”
“What useful information?”
Max looked directly at Lewis.
“You need someone who doesn’t care about fame.”
The room went oddly quiet for a second.
Even Lewis blinked at that.
Because underneath the usual Verstappen bluntness—
It was honest.
Y/N Takes the Assignment Too Seriously
At first, Y/N thought the whole thing was funny.
Then she accidentally became emotionally invested.
Which was dangerous.
Because now she was taking notes.
Literal notes.
She had pages dedicated to things like:
Lewis likes meaningful conversations
probably someone compassionate
definitely someone who loves animals
needs patience for race weekends
cannot be weird about fashion
must understand he adopts random people emotionally
“Why do you have a notebook,” Lando asked one afternoon.
Y/N snapped it shut immediately.
“Classified information.”
The Grid Begins Suggesting Candidates
This was where everything became unmanageable.
Because suddenly everybody had opinions.
Carlos suggested someone artistic.
Pierre thought Lewis needed somebody adventurous.
Charles insisted he needed “a hopeless romantic.”
Lewis hated every second of this.
Especially because nobody would stop discussing him like a documentary subject.
Meanwhile, Lewis is Horrified
“You’re all insane,” Lewis said for probably the fiftieth time that weekend.
Nobody listened.
George had now upgraded from PowerPoint to spreadsheets.
Y/N was interviewing people hypothetically.
Oscar and Lando were ranking “green flags.”
Charles somehow started talking about soulmates.
Lewis looked ready to fake his own disappearance.
The Turning Point
It became slightly less funny when Y/N sat beside Lewis later that evening after the chaos died down.
“You know we’re joking around,” she said softly.
Lewis snorted.
“George made pie charts.”
“Okay, mostly joking.”
He laughed quietly.
Then she tilted her head.
“But seriously… I think people just want you to be happy.”
That caught him off guard.
Because underneath all the chaos and teasing—
That was true.
The entire grid adored Lewis.
Not just as a driver.
As a person.
The PowerPoint Presentation Escalates
The next race weekend, George announced there would be “updates.”
Lewis nearly walked out immediately.
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh yes,” George said proudly. “We have new data.”
The screen lit up again.
LEWIS IDEAL PARTNER ANALYSIS: VERSION 2
Y/N laughed so hard she almost fell off the couch.
The Drivers Contribute Again
This time, even more people added opinions.
Charles insisted Lewis needed someone who would support his passions outside racing.
Lando contributed absolutely nothing useful except:
“Must tolerate random music at 3am.”
George actually added it to the slide.
Oscar contributed:
“Needs emotional maturity.”
Max added:
“Must survive British sarcasm.”
Carlos added:
“Probably elegant.”
Yuki shouted from the back:
“And funny!”
Lewis covered his face with his hands.
“I regret mentoring all of you.”
The Interview Segment
At some point Y/N started casually asking Lewis questions.
Very casually.
Suspiciously casually.
“What’s your ideal date?”
Lewis narrowed his eyes immediately.
“Why.”
“No reason.”
“You’re investigating me.”
“Maybe a little.”
“You’re worse than George.”
She gasped dramatically.
“That’s rude.”
The Grid Decides Y/N is in Charge
Eventually the drivers collectively decided Y/N was now the official “Lewis Happiness Coordinator.”
She did not ask for this title.
George made her a fake badge anyway.
It literally said:
LEWIS RELATIONSHIP TASK FORCE
Lewis threatened to quit Formula 1.
Nobody believed him.
The Real Reason
Later that night, after another ridiculous team dinner where the grid debated Lewis’ “type” like they were discussing race strategy, Y/N found Lewis standing outside overlooking the paddock.
Quiet.
Calm.
She walked beside him.
“You okay?”
Lewis smiled softly.
“You know… this is ridiculous.”
“Very.”
“But it’s also kind of sweet.”
Y/N bumped her shoulder against his.
“That’s because everybody loves you.”
And that was the truth.
Every driver there had grown up looking up to Lewis Hamilton.
He was family to half the grid.
Of course they wanted somebody who would love him properly too.
Even if their methods were completely insane.
The Final Disaster
The final straw came when George attempted to hold an official meeting.
With printed packets.
Lewis walked into the hospitality room, saw the title page—
OPERATION: GET LEWIS A GIRLFRIEND
—and immediately turned around to leave.
Y/N grabbed his arm while laughing uncontrollably.
hii, i recently found your account and i've been genuinely loving everything you write. i was wondering if i could request something with rookie driver reader who grew up with ollie and kimi, who doesn't have a good family life especially with her dad who's like out of the picture now and maybe they're at a race and her dad shows up trying to see her and get her to stay with him now that she's eighteen and not under court laws and she freaks out and the other drivers like oscar and charles and stuff catch on to what's happening and protect her and when them and the rookies ask if she's fine she tells them yes but it throws her off and she gets into a really bad crash, like car flipping and wheels on fire and her being unresponsive, then when ollie and kimi hear it on the radio they both do something thats never happened before and they actually turn back on the circuit to get to her and pull her out of the car and she's not answering so they take her to get medical attention and while she's out her dad shows up at the hospital and kimi and ollie and the other drivers protect her then when she wakes up they comfort her and make her feel better. im sorry if this is like really long and really specific, you totally don't have to write this if you don't want to but i feel like you could seriously do it justice. anyways, keep up the amazing writing!!!
“You’re Not Alone”
(platonic!2025 F1 grid x driver!reader)
childhood friends with Ollie Bearman & Kimi Antonelli | found family | protective grid
summary:
Y/N grew up alongside Kimi Antonelli and Ollie Bearman, but unlike them, home was never safe. When her estranged father suddenly shows up in the paddock, everything she’s worked to hold together starts to crack. The grid notices. They always do. And when things spiral, they remind her—loudly, fiercely—that she doesn’t have to face anything alone.
tw: family conflict, non-graphic crash, injury, hospital setting, anxiety
The paddock was loud.
It always was on race day—engines in the distance, engineers shouting, cameras flashing—but Y/N usually thrived in it. It was noise she understood. Predictable chaos.
Safe chaos.
She had just stepped out of the garage, helmet tucked under her arm, when she felt it.
That shift.
That feeling of being watched.
And then she saw him.
Her father stood just beyond the barrier line, talking to a staff member like he belonged there. Like he hadn’t disappeared years ago. Like he hadn’t left her to figure everything out on her own.
Y/N froze.
Her grip tightened around her helmet.
“No…” she whispered.
They Notice
It was Oscar who noticed first.
He had been mid-conversation when he saw her go still. Completely still.
Not normal.
“Y/N?” he called, stepping closer.
She didn’t answer.
Her eyes were locked on something behind him.
Oscar followed her line of sight—and immediately his expression changed.
“…oh.”
That wasn’t a fan.
That wasn’t media.
That was something else entirely.
Within seconds, more of the grid picked up on it.
Charles moved closer, instinctively stepping just slightly in front of her line of sight.
“Do you want to go inside?” Charles asked quietly.
Y/N shook her head quickly. Too quickly.
“I’m fine,” she said.
She wasn’t.
Everyone there knew it.
The Confrontation
Her father called her name.
Loud enough that heads turned.
Loud enough that the cameras nearby shifted.
Y/N flinched.
“You’re eighteen now,” he said, stepping closer. “You don’t have to stay with them. You can come with me.”
The words hit like a punch.
Stay with them.
Like she hadn’t fought for her place here.
Like the people around her weren’t her family.
Before she could respond, someone stepped in front of her.
Then another.
And another.
Suddenly, she couldn’t even see him anymore.
Just the backs of the grid.
A wall.
Solid.
Unmoving.
“No,” Oscar said simply.
Charles’ voice was calm but firm. “You need to leave.”
There was no shouting. No scene.
Just quiet, controlled protection.
And somehow, that made it feel even stronger.
“I’m Fine”
Later, back in the garage, Kimi and Ollie found her.
Kimi crossed his arms, watching her carefully.
Ollie leaned against the table, eyes narrowed slightly.
“You okay?” Ollie asked.
Y/N didn’t even hesitate.
“Yeah.”
Kimi didn’t believe her for a second.
“You’re lying,” he said bluntly.
She forced a smile. “I said I’m fine.”
Silence.
Ollie sighed softly. “We’re not pushing. Just… don’t shut us out, yeah?”
She nodded.
But her hands were still shaking.
The Race
When she got into the car, everything felt… off.
The track blurred differently.
The radio chatter felt too loud.
Her thoughts kept drifting back.
To his voice.
To his words.
“You can come with me.”
Her grip tightened on the wheel.
Focus.
She had to focus.
The Incident
It happened fast.
Too fast.
A misjudged corner.
A slight loss of control.
The car spun.
The world flipped into motion.
And then—
Stillness.
The radio crackled with urgent voices.
But Y/N didn’t respond.
They Break Protocol
Back on track, Kimi’s heart dropped.
“Red flag?” he asked, voice tight.
No answer came fast enough.
Ollie had already slowed.
“Where is she?”
The location came through.
And something in both of them snapped.
They didn’t wait.
Didn’t think.
They turned back.
Something drivers don’t do.
Something that had never happened like this before.
Getting to Her
By the time they reached the scene, marshals were already there—but Kimi and Ollie were out of their cars before anyone could stop them.
“Y/N!”
No response.
Ollie’s hands shook as he reached her first.
“She’s breathing,” he said quickly, voice tight with relief.
Kimi stayed right there, refusing to move even when staff told them to step back.
“No,” he said. “We’re staying.”
The Hospital
The waiting room was too quiet.
Too still.
The entire grid had shown up.
Nobody said it, but nobody was leaving either.
When her father tried to enter—
He didn’t make it past the door.
Max.
Charles.
Oscar.
Even others stepped in.
“Not happening,” someone said.
Firm. Final.
When She Wakes
The first thing Y/N noticed was the quiet hum of machines.
The second—
Voices.
Familiar ones.
“…she’s waking up.”
Her eyes fluttered open.
And there they were.
Kimi, right next to her.
Ollie, leaning forward instantly.
“You scared us,” Ollie said, voice rough.
Kimi didn’t say anything—he just reached out, squeezing her hand.
And then the rest of the room filled in.
Oscar.
Charles.
So many faces.
All there.
All worried.
All hers.
“You’re not getting rid of us,” Oscar said lightly.
Y/N blinked, her throat tight.
“…okay,” she whispered.
After
Later, when things calmed down, she finally said it.
Quietly.
“I didn’t want him there.”
Kimi nodded immediately. “Then he won’t be.”
Ollie added, “You don’t deal with that alone. Ever.”
please aaany fic that the reader is bts 8th member + f1 driver
🎤🏎️ “THE GIRL WHO DIDN’T CARE”
pairing: BTS x platonic!8th member!Driver!reader x F1 grid
genre: found family, comfort, defiance, self-worth, fame pressure, chaotic humor, BTS x F1 crossover
warnings: mentions of media criticism / public hate (no violence), lots of supportive chaos, language
summary:
When the world decided to doubt her, Y/N didn’t fight back — she just performed. And with one song, one stage, and seven brothers behind her, she reminded everyone exactly who she was.
🌍 The World Turns Ugly
It started small — whispers in interviews, snide comments on social media.
“She only got that F1 seat because of her fame.”
“She’s not serious about racing — she’s an idol first.”
“She’s too soft for this sport.”
Then came the think pieces.
Clips from her rookie mistakes, slowed down and dissected.
Reporters who smiled to her face, then wrote paragraphs about “the decline of professionalism in F1.”
You didn’t react.
Not once.
Which, of course, made them angrier.
🗞️ The Media
They tried baiting you every race weekend.
“Y/N, how do you respond to the criticism that you’re more performer than driver?”
“Do you think BTS fame distracts from your racing career?”
“Some say you’re taking up a seat more deserving of a ‘real racer’—care to comment?”
Your replies were polite, short, and devastatingly boring.
“I just focus on driving.”
“I’m grateful for my team.”
“Next question?”
🏎️ The Grid Fights Back
You didn’t need to speak.
The drivers did for you.
Lewis on Sky Sports:
“She’s training harder than half the grid. I’ve seen her telemetry. She’s the real deal.”
George to a journalist:
“If she was a man, no one would question her focus.”
Charles:
“If you don’t respect her, that says more about you than her.”
Carlos:
“She’s been consistent all season. Consistency doesn’t come from marketing.”
Lando, during a Twitch stream:
“People act like she sings in the car mid-race. Bro, she’s literally out-qualifying veterans. Calm down.”
Max:
“Let her drive. She’s not here for your approval.”
Daniel:
“If she ever wants to give them an F-you, I’ll print the T-shirt.”
The fandoms went feral.
#WeStandWithYN trended worldwide.
ARMYs and F1 fans joined forces for once — and that never happens.
But you?
Still silent.
💬 [BTS GC: “protect the child”]
Jin: i swear if i read one more nasty article i’m calling dispatch myself
Yoongi: let them talk. she’s working.
Namjoon: agreed. her results speak louder.
Hobi: she’s fine, but i hate how cruel people get.
Tae: should we post something supportive?
Jimin: maybe just emojis.
Jungkook: she’s pretending not to care but she’s definitely heard it.
Y/N: i can see this chat, geniuses.
All: …
Y/N: don’t worry about it. i’m fine. really.
Yoongi: you’re planning something aren’t you
Y/N: maybe :)
🎤 “IDOL” Announcement
When HYBE dropped the teaser, the internet combusted.
“BTS — IDOL (2025 Reimagined)”
Performance debut: Seoul Grand Prix weekend.
The same week F1 came to Korea.
The same week the criticism was at its peak.
Coincidence? Yeah, sure.
🧃 BTS PRESS CONFERENCE
Reporter: “The new version of IDOL—does it have a message?”
Namjoon: smiling softly “It always has.”
Taehyung: “It’s about pride. Confidence. Being yourself no matter who doubts you.”
Yoongi: “It’s not a response. It’s a reminder.”
The cameras flash.
The headlines spin.
You don’t say a word.
🏁 SEOUL GRAND PRIX WEEKEND
You arrive in your black Mercedes race suit, BTS logo stitched on the collar.
Fans scream your name.
Reporters hover like flies, desperate for comment.
You give them the same small smile as always.
Then disappear into the paddock with your earbuds in.
🎤 The Performance: “IDOL (2025 Version)”
The lights go out.
Drums roll.
And the stage explodes with color.
BTS appears in bright hanboks, the beat heavy and defiant.
The crowd screams.
And then —
You step out.
Wearing your racing gloves, mic in hand, grinning like a storm.
Jungkook hits the first verse.
Taehyung spins.
Hobi jumps.
The crowd’s wild — but it’s when you join the chorus that the internet dies.
“You can’t stop me lovin’ myself!”
You shout it like a challenge.
Like a battle cry.
Like the response you refused to give to reporters for months.
The camera zooms in as you rap Yoongi’s verse beside him, eyes sharp, tone playful:
“They point fingers, I could care less — my world, my rules, my success.”
The crowd goes feral.
ARMYs crying. F1 fans screaming. Toto Wolff somewhere in the crowd, clapping slowly with a look that says “I told you she was unstoppable.”
And when the final chorus drops — all eight of you jump, lights flashing, hands raised, shouting together:
“You can’t stop me lovin’ myself!”
🕶️ AFTERMATH: THE INTERNET MELTDOWN
ARMY Twitter:
“She didn’t clap back. She performed back.”
“That’s how you clear a rumor — with choreography.”
F1 Twitter:
“She basically told the entire paddock she doesn’t care and then qualified P2.”
“The line between idol and driver doesn’t exist anymore. She’s both.”
Reporters:
“Perhaps we misjudged Y/N’s focus.”
“Her statement through art was louder than any interview.”
💬 [F1 GC, after the performance]
Lando: i got goosebumps
Charles: i teared up ngl
Carlos: her confidence is scary. in a good way.
Lewis: that’s how you handle hate. elegance.
George: she didn’t even say a word. queen behavior.
Max: i would’ve yelled back. she just… danced??
Daniel: and won the weekend.
Oscar: legend behavior.
Alex: we’re getting BTS merch now right
Pierre: already ordered
💬 [BTS GC AFTER STAGE]
Jin: did you see the crowd??
Yoongi: she killed it.
Hobi: SHE’S OUR STAR!!!
Namjoon: that was everything we wanted it to be.
Jimin: she didn’t just sing it. she lived it.
Tae: our little sister just told off the world with one lyric.
Jungkook: i’m stealing her gloves.
Y/N: i told you i didn’t care :)
🏎️ POST-RACE INTERVIEW
Reporter: “Y/N, IDOL seemed like a bold statement. Was it a message to critics?”
You laugh. “No. It was just fun. I like that song.”
You wink at the camera.
“Besides, I don’t need to explain who I am. I already know.”
🌟 ENDING SCENE
BTS and the Mercedes team wait at parc fermé.
You park the car, step out, helmet off — smiling, hair damp, pride blazing.
Jungkook’s first to hug you.
Taehyung lifts your arm like you just won a world title.
Yoongi pats your shoulder, muttering, “That’s our maknae.”
The crowd chants your name.
Every headline screams your quote.
“I don’t need to explain who I am. I already know.”
Pairing: Platonic! Max Verstappen x little sister!reader, F1 grid x platonic!driver!Reader
Genre: Chaos, sibling energy, crack, fluff, found family
Warnings: Competitive unboxing, Max pretending not to care, drivers confused by blind boxes
A/N: I know absolutely nothing about Skull Panda except that they are cute and addictive and I know for a FACT Y/N would absolutely get the entire grid involved.
@yukihimetenshi16 reqs: Could you make a Max Verstappen x Reader story where the reader is a Skull Panda fan? I love watching blind box unboxing videos ₍₍⚞(˶˃ ꒳ ˂˶)⚟⁾⁾
The paddock learns very quickly that Y/N Verstappen has two main personality traits.
She is terrifyingly competitive on track.
She is completely obsessed with Skull Panda figures.
It starts small.
One tiny figure sitting on the counter in your driver room.
Then another.
Then another.
Then suddenly your entire engineering table has little Skull Panda figures lined up in perfect order like they are part of race strategy.
By Monaco, you have them clipped to your bag.
By Silverstone, you have a special display shelf in the garage.
By Spa, even your mechanics know which ones are your favorites.
And Max?
Max pretends he does not know a single thing about them.
“Why does this one have a tiny umbrella?” Max asks, staring suspiciously at a figure.
You snatch it away immediately.
“Don’t touch her.”
“…You named it?”
“Her name is not important. Her vibes are.”
Max stares at you.
“You are so weird.”
You grin.
“You drove a GT car under a fake name for fun.”
“…Fair.”
Eventually your team decides this obsession is too funny not to use for content.
So someone in media comes up with an idea.
A challenge.
Every driver on the grid—including the rookies—has to go out and buy one random Skull Panda blind box.
Then they all bring them back for one giant unboxing video with you.
The second you hear the idea, you nearly fall out of your chair.
“You’re serious?”
Your media manager nods.
“We already sent the drivers.”
“Oh my God.”
The Shopping Trip Disaster
Not a single driver knows what they’re looking for.
Which makes the footage ten times funnier.
Lando walks into a toy store and immediately looks overwhelmed.
“There are too many tiny people in boxes.”
The employee asks if he needs help.
“I need emotional support.”
Oscar picks the first box he sees.
“Statistically they’re all the same.”
The employee tries to explain the rare figures.
Oscar nods politely.
Still picks the nearest one.
Charles is weirdly invested.
“This one has stars. She would like stars.”
He spends fifteen minutes choosing the “perfect vibe.”
George researches the whole thing beforehand.
He has notes.
He knows the names of the collections.
He arrives with three boxes because he “wanted to maximize the odds.”
You stare at him in awe.
Kimi asks someone in the store:
“Which one would a Verstappen like?”
The employee laughs.
Kimi is completely serious.
Ollie buys one because the box was purple.
“That seems like something she’d enjoy.”
And honestly?
You do.
Then there’s Max.
Max absolutely refuses to participate at first.
“I’m not buying little dolls.”
“Yes you are,” you tell him.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Then somehow, two days later, there is footage of Max standing in a shop in Monaco holding two Skull Panda boxes and looking deeply annoyed.
“I still don’t understand what these are.”
The employee asks if he wants gift wrapping.
“They are not gifts.”
The Unboxing Video
Your team sets everything up in the paddock during race week.
There’s a table.
A giant pile of boxes.
And you sitting in the middle already vibrating with excitement.
“This is the best day of my life.”
Max is sitting beside you looking like he regrets every decision that led him here.
First box: Lando.
You open it dramatically.
It’s a cute sleepy figure with stars.
You gasp.
“Oh my God. She’s adorable.”
Lando beams.
“I knew you’d like her.”
“You picked this?”
“No, actually I panicked.”
Oscar’s box is next.
You open it.
Blink.
Then burst out laughing.
It’s one with the most blank expression imaginable.
You hold it up beside Oscar’s face.
The resemblance is terrifying.
Even Oscar laughs.
“That’s fair.”
Charles gets a super pretty rare one.
You nearly scream.
“CHARLES!”
“What? Is it good?”
“IT’S SO GOOD.”
He smiles proudly like he personally handcrafted it.
George’s turn is somehow even worse.
He got the exact one you had been hunting for for weeks.
You stare at it.
Then at him.
“You have no idea what you’ve done.”
George looks terrified.
“Is that good or bad?”
“I’m stealing it.”
Kimi’s box has one with little racing goggles.
You immediately point at him.
“You did that on purpose.”
Kimi shrugs.
“I guessed.”
Then finally—
Max’s turn.
You narrow your eyes suspiciously.
“You better not have picked a boring one.”
“I literally just grabbed one.”
You open it.
Pause.
Then slowly look up.
It’s one of the rarest figures in the collection.
The prettiest one.
The one you’ve wanted forever.
The entire room erupts.
“No way.”
“You’re kidding.”
“THAT’S THE ONE?”
You are actually speechless.
Max looks at the figure.
Then at you.
“…Is that good?”
You launch yourself at him so hard he nearly falls out of his chair.
“YOU GOT ME THE SECRET ONE!”
Max is laughing now.
Actually laughing.
“Okay, okay!”
The video goes viral instantly.
Fans love it.
The comments are full of:
“Max pretending not to care but getting the rare one is sibling magic.”
“George did RESEARCH.”
“Oscar picking the one that looked exactly like him is so on brand.”
“Charles choosing based on vibes is killing me.”
And most importantly:
“Y/N Verstappen forcing the grid into her hyperfixation is the best thing to happen to Formula 1.”
By the end of the season, half the grid has accidentally gotten into Skull Pandas too.
Lando has three.
Oscar has one sitting on his desk.
Charles buys one whenever he sees them.
And Max?
Max still claims he doesn’t care.
But when you show up to the paddock one day missing a figure from your collection, he quietly hands you a small box.
Can you write a F1 fanfic with all the drivers were reader gets a lot of hate because lately people say that she is so closed off. But it's actually because reader is struggling with anxiety. The drivers also noticed that and are there for her and are very supportive. When they see the hate online, they defend reader. Could you write it that Oscar and Lando are close friends with reader?
Thank you in advance!!
🏁 “She Wasn’t Cold—She Was Just Trying to Breathe.”
Pairing: Platonic! 2025 F1 Grid x Fem!Driver!Reader
Genre: Angst → Comfort, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Soft Grid
Warnings: Anxiety, online hate, emotional distress (handled gently)
A/N: This one is softer, a little heavier, but with a lot of comfort. Y/N isn’t “cold”—she’s overwhelmed. And thankfully, she’s not alone.
At first, no one really notices.
Because on the outside?
You look fine.
Calm.
Quiet.
Composed.
You answer questions politely in interviews.
You nod during debriefs.
You keep your head down and do your job.
If anything, the media calls you “mature for your age.”
Reserved.
Focused.
Professional.
But then the comments start.
Not in the paddock.
Online.
“She’s so boring.”
“No personality.”
“Why is she always so stiff?”
“She acts like she doesn’t even want to be there.”
“Compare her to other drivers—no charisma.”
At first, you ignore it.
You’ve been trained to.
Media training.
PR guidelines.
“Don’t read comments.”
But curiosity is a dangerous thing.
And one night, in a hotel room halfway across the world, you scroll.
Just a little.
Just enough.
And it sticks.
It’s Not That You’re Cold
It’s just that your brain never really… quiets.
Race weekends are loud.
Engines.
Radios.
Crowds.
Expectations.
Your thoughts layer on top of it all:
Don’t mess this up.
They’re watching.
You’re not doing enough.
Say the right thing.
Don’t be awkward.
Don’t be wrong.
And suddenly, something as simple as answering a question feels like navigating a minefield.
So you keep it short.
Safe.
Controlled.
Because if you don’t say much—
You can’t say the wrong thing.
Lando Notices First
Lando has known you long enough to tell when something’s off.
It’s small things.
You laugh less.
You hesitate before speaking.
You overthink even simple questions.
One day, after a media session, he catches up to you in the paddock.
“Hey,” he says casually. “You okay?”
You nod immediately.
“Yeah.”
Too fast.
Too automatic.
Lando tilts his head.
“…You sure?”
You force a smile.
“I’m fine.”
He doesn’t push.
But he doesn’t believe you either.
Oscar Sees It Clearly
Oscar notices in a different way.
He sees it in the pauses.
The way you rehearse answers in your head before speaking.
The way your hands fidget when you think no one’s looking.
The way you go quiet when too many people are around.
He doesn’t ask immediately.
Oscar isn’t like that.
He just starts… staying nearby more.
Sitting next to you in briefings.
Walking with you to media.
Standing close enough that you don’t feel alone in crowded rooms.
The Breaking Point
It happens after a race weekend.
Not a bad one.
Not a great one.
Just… average.
You finish P9.
Decent points.
Nothing dramatic.
But online?
The comments are worse.
“She has no presence.”
“Why is she even here?”
“She looks miserable all the time.”
“Replace her.”
That night, you sit on the floor of your hotel room.
Phone in your hand.
Chest tight.
Breathing shallow.
You try to take a deep breath.
It doesn’t work.
Try again.
Still doesn’t work.
Your thoughts spiral.
Faster. Louder.
Too much.
You Don’t Realize You Called Lando
But you did.
And he answers immediately.
“Hey—?”
He hears it.
The silence.
The uneven breathing.
“Y/N?”
You try to speak.
“I’m— I don’t— I can’t—”
Your voice breaks.
And suddenly you’re crying.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just quiet, overwhelmed tears you’ve been holding in for weeks.
“I don’t know why it’s so hard,” you whisper.
“I’m trying. I just— I can’t… breathe right.”
There’s a pause.
Then Lando’s voice softens instantly.
“Hey. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
They Show Up
You don’t expect it.
But twenty minutes later, there’s a knock at your door.
You open it.
And there’s Lando.
And Oscar.
You blink.
“You didn’t have to—”
“We did,” Lando says simply, walking in.
Oscar closes the door gently behind him.
“No arguments.”
They don’t overwhelm you.
They don’t bombard you with questions.
They just sit.
One on either side of you.
Grounding.
Present.
“Breathe with me,” Lando says quietly.
“In… and out.”
He does it slowly.
You follow.
It takes a while.
But eventually—
Your breathing steadies.
The Truth Comes Out
You stare at the floor.
“I think something’s wrong with me.”
Oscar shakes his head immediately.
“No.”
You frown.
“I can’t even talk normally without overthinking everything.”
Lando nudges your shoulder.
“That’s called anxiety. Not failure.”
You swallow.
“…It doesn’t feel normal.”
Oscar speaks this time.
“It doesn’t have to be normal to be real.”
The Next Day
You don’t expect anything to change.
But it does.
Subtly.
Quietly.
Lando stays glued to your side during media.
Cracking jokes.
Taking attention off you when he can.
If you hesitate, he jumps in.
If you go quiet, he doesn’t make it awkward.
Oscar keeps things steady.
If interviews get overwhelming, he redirects questions.
If you seem tense, he changes the topic.
If you need space, he creates it without making it obvious.
The Grid Notices
It doesn’t take long.
Lewis sees it in your posture.
Charles notices how Lando hovers a little more.
Max notices how Oscar never leaves you alone in crowded areas.
They piece it together.
And just like that—
You’re not alone anymore.
The Silent Support
No one makes it a big deal.
They just… adjust.
Lewis checks in quietly.
“Take your time with answers,” he tells you. “No rush.”
Charles smiles at you before interviews.
“You’re doing better than you think.”
Max, in his own way, says:
“People talk. Doesn’t mean they’re right.”
The Online Hate
It doesn’t stop.
But the response changes.
Clips start circulating of Lando stepping in during interviews.
Fans notice Oscar always sitting beside you.
Lewis defending “quiet personalities” in press conferences.
Charles praising your work ethic.
Max shutting down criticism bluntly:
“She’s fast. That’s what matters.”
The narrative starts shifting.
Slowly.
But it shifts.
The Moment
One day, during an interview, you pause.
Same as always.
The question sits in the air.
Normally, you’d panic.
Overthink.
Rush.
But this time—
You hear Lando beside you, casually humming.
Oscar taps the table lightly.
Grounding.
You breathe.
And answer.
Clearly.
Simply.
Confidently.
Afterward, Lando grins.
“See? Easy.”
You roll your eyes slightly.
“It wasn’t easy.”
Oscar shrugs.
“Still did it.”
Epilogue
You’re still quiet.
Still reserved.
Still you.
But now?
You don’t feel like you’re drowning in it.
Because you’ve learned something important.
You’re not “too much.”
You’re not “not enough.”
You’re just someone learning how to exist in a very loud world.
And thankfully?
You’re surrounded by people who will sit in the quiet with you.
hiiii, i’m literally obsessed with your writing and i was wondering if you could do another stray kids story? reader is the maknae and a driver and she and hyunjin maybe have a very close relationship like on and off stage and have the drivers see it in either the paddock or during a performance? i loved your other stray kids fics so much:)
“Front Row Seats to Something They Don’t Understand”
Before the grid ever knew her as a driver, before commentators learned how to say her name properly, before cameras caught onto the way she carried herself like she belonged—
Y/N was just a kid in a uniform, sitting in a classroom at SOPA.
And two rows over, leaning back in his chair like rules were more of a suggestion than a requirement, was Hwang Hyunjin.
They didn’t become friends instantly.
It started with familiarity.
Shared schedules.
Same building.
Recognizing each other in passing.
Hyunjin was already known for his visuals, his presence, the way people naturally gravitated toward him.
Y/N was quieter—but not unnoticed.
There was something about her. Something steady. Something focused.
She’d leave early sometimes, bag slung over her shoulder, muttering something about “training.”
Hyunjin noticed.
One day, he followed her—not in a creepy way, more in a curiosity finally winning kind of way.
What he found wasn’t a dance studio.
It was a track.
Not Formula 1—not yet—but enough to understand.
Helmet. Gloves. Speed.
Hyunjin stood there longer than he meant to.
When she finally noticed him, she pulled off her helmet, hair messy, eyes sharp.
“You’re lost,” she said.
He blinked. “You’re insane.”
She laughed.
That was the start.
BEFORE STRAY KIDS, BEFORE F1
Their friendship grew in the gaps between schedules.
Hyunjin would complain about choreography, and Y/N would listen while stretching sore muscles from training.
Y/N would rant about lap times and racing lines, and Hyunjin would nod like he understood (he didn’t, but he tried).
They didn’t need to be the same to get along.
They just needed to understand what it meant to chase something relentlessly.
When Hyunjin debuted in Stray Kids, Y/N showed up quietly.
No cameras. No announcements.
Just a hoodie, a mask, and a small smile backstage.
“I told you you’d make it,” she said.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re next.”
She didn’t say anything.
But she was already working toward it.
ENTER: STRAY KIDS’ 9TH MEMBER
When Y/N was announced as the ninth member of Stray Kids, the reaction was… loud.
Confusion. Curiosity. Skepticism.
But one thing grounded everything:
Stay already knew her name.
Because Hyunjin had mentioned her before.
Not directly. Not loudly.
But enough.
Enough for fans to connect the dots.
The SOPA friend.
The one he always seemed relaxed around.
The one who showed up quietly but stayed consistently.
Their dynamic became something fans adored instantly.
Not romantic.
Not forced.
Just… familiar.
THE GRID MEETS HER
Fast forward.
Rookie season.
The only girl on the grid.
Y/N stepped into the paddock like she’d been there before—even though she hadn’t.
The drivers clocked her immediately.
Oscar: observant.
Kimi: curious
Ollie : slightly intimidated.
Charles: respectful
Lewis: not even phased
But what confused them?
Was when Hyunjin showed up.
PADDOCK CONFUSION
The first time Stray Kids visited a Grand Prix, it felt like two completely different worlds collided.
The paddock was used to celebrities.
They were not used to this energy.
Eight chaotic, loud, affectionate members—and one Y/N in the middle of it, somehow both grounding them and being the source of half the chaos.
Hyunjin spotted her first.
He didn’t wave.
He just walked straight up to her, like muscle memory.
“You’re late,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even part of this world.”
“I still got here before you.”
“Debatable.”
The grid watched this interaction like it was a foreign language.
Lando leaned toward Oscar. “Why is he talking to her like that?”
Oscar shrugged. “He’s not scared of her.”
“Should he be?”
“…Yes.”
THEIR DYNAMIC (ACCORDING TO THE GRID)
Hyunjin adjusted her collar absentmindedly before she went to interviews.
She stole his water bottle without asking.
They bickered constantly—but never seriously.
It wasn’t loud affection.
It was comfortable.
Familiar.
The kind of closeness that didn’t need to be explained.
Kimi blinked. “They act like siblings.”
Ollie frowned. “But also like rivals?”
Lewis smiled. “They grew up together.”
And suddenly, it made sense.
THE PERFORMANCE THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
The grid had heard Y/N was an idol.
They hadn’t seen it.
That changed when Stray Kids were invited to perform before a race weekend.
The drivers expected something like… background music.
They got a full-scale performance.
Lights. Bass. Precision.
And Y/N?
She wasn’t the calm rookie driver anymore.
She was sharp. Intense. Magnetic.
Her movements hit every beat with exact control.
Her expressions shifted effortlessly—confidence, playfulness, power.
And Hyunjin?
Matched her.
No—challenged her.
There was a moment in the choreography where they faced each other.
Not touching.
Not interacting dramatically.
But the energy between them?
Competitive. Electric.
The kind of silent “keep up” they’d been doing since SOPA days.
The grid noticed immediately.
Max crossed his arms. “They’re competing.”
Charles shook his head. “No. They’re pushing each other.”
Lewis just nodded. “That’s history.”
BACKSTAGE AFTER
Hyunjin found her first again.
“You missed a beat,” he said casually.
She scoffed. “You were off-center.”
“Excuses.”
“Projection.”
They stared at each other for a second—
Then both laughed.
Chan walked by, shaking his head. “They’ve been like this for years.”
Felix nodded. “It’s kind of scary.”
THE GRID UNDERSTANDS (SORT OF)
After that performance, everything clicked.
The discipline.
The control.
The quiet confidence.
It wasn’t just Formula 1.
It wasn’t just K-pop.
It was the same mindset in two different forms.
Ollie approached her carefully later.
“So… you’ve always been like that?”
She tilted her head. “Like what?”
He gestured vaguely. “Good at everything.”
She laughed. “No. Just stubborn.”
FULL CIRCLE
Back in the paddock, Hyunjin leaned against the barrier while she got ready for qualifying.
“You nervous?” he asked.
She adjusted her gloves. “No.”
“Liar.”
She smirked. “A little.”
He nodded. “Good. Means you care.”
She looked at him then—really looked.
From SOPA classrooms.
To debut stages.
To world tours.
To Formula 1 grids.
“You came far,” she said.
He shrugged. “So did you.”
EPILOGUE
To Stay, they were a story years in the making.
To the grid, they were something fascinating.
To each other?
They were just… consistent.
Through everything.
Through every version of themselves.
And when the lights went out on Sunday, and Y/N launched off the line—
Somewhere in the paddock, Hyunjin watched with a small, knowing smile.
(enhypen x platonic!8th member!reader, 17yo so maknae)
A/N: Some of you guys are questioning me, but to me, it feels more accurate to the group dynamic for her to refer to the other members using the same term they use with each other: hyung. It's a way of highlighting that she's part of the brotherhood and an equal member of the group. Either way Enhypen will always be 7 in my eyes.
8:00 AM – dorm chaos
the first sound of the morning was you groaning into your pillow.
“five more minutes…” you mumbled.
“yah, y/n, we have class before practice today.” jungwon’s leader voice cut through the air like an alarm clock.
you sat up, hair sticking out in every direction, blinking at the worksheet jay had dropped on your lap. “particles? now?”
jay smirked. “yes, now. breakfast and grammar. it builds character.”
“i hate you.”
jake popped his head in from the kitchen, holding up toast. “cheer up, kid. at least you get food bribery.”
you stared at the toast suspiciously. “do i have to conjugate verbs before i get that?”
jay: “yes.”
you: groans louder
10:30 AM – language class
your teacher had just finished explaining sentence endings when she asked you to read a line from the textbook.
“저는… 어… 커피… 좋아해요,” you said, stumbling.
the members sitting behind you in disguise as “supportive siblings” snickered.
ni-ki whispered, “you sound like me when i was twelve.”
sunoo clapped sarcastically. “congratulations, baby! you can order coffee now!”
you threw your pencil at him.
the teacher just smiled. “she’s improving. good job, y/n.”
2:00 PM – dance practice
halfway through learning formations for bite me, you messed up the count again.
“sorry!” you yelped, switching sides too late.
heeseung laughed, pulling you into position. “you’re fine. just don’t run into me again or i’m filing a complaint.”
“file it in korean then,” you shot back.
the whole room gasped like you’d roasted him into oblivion.
sunghoon: “ooooh, maknae got jokes now.”
4:00 PM – vlive moment
sunoo went live, dragging you with him. chat immediately filled with:
“y/n speak korean plssss.”
“test her language skills!!”
sunoo grinned. “okay, introduce yourself in korean. go.”
you froze. “uh… annyeonghaseyo… jeoneun… enhypen maknae… y/n-imnida… i’m 17 years old… oh wait, i wasn’t supposed to say that in english, right?”
sunoo wheezed. “guys, subtitles for y/n please.”
the chat exploded with hearts and crying emojis.
6:30 PM – fansign event
a fan leaned forward, speaking fast. you caught “favorite,” “dark blood,” and “song,” but then your brain blanked.
“…uhhhh…” you panicked. “i… like… um, my favorite… 노래… is—”
jungwon immediately leaned over. “she’s saying her favorite song changes, but right now it’s chaconne.”
the fan nodded sweetly and told you you were cute. you beamed, cheeks red, and whispered to jungwon, “leader-nim saves my life again.”
he ruffled your hair. “always.”
9:00 PM – interview madness
the mc turned to you. “y/n-ssi, how was preparing for this comeback?”
you smiled nervously. “연습… was very hard… 근데 fun! 우리 team… work… 열심히.”
the boys exploded into laughter.
jake quickly translated: “she means, practice was difficult but fun, and we worked very hard as a team.”
the interviewer chuckled, “ah, subtitles for y/n.”
it trended online later.
11:30 PM – back at dorms
you sat on the floor, surrounded by worksheets. ni-ki lay upside down on the couch, quizzing you half-heartedly.
“say apple.”
“사과.”
“say i eat apple.”
“…나… 사과… eat?”
ni-ki clapped like you’d just won a medal. “perfect!”
“that’s wrong!” jay shouted from the kitchen.
you pouted. “he’s nicer than you.”
jay sighed, walking over. “come on, baby. one more try. say: i eat apples.”
“저는… 사과를… 먹어요.”
jay froze. “…that’s actually right.”
the whole dorm erupted into cheers, sunghoon shaking your shoulders, sunoo screaming, jake lifting you off the ground like you’d won survival show again.
and you? you grinned so wide your cheeks hurt.
because yeah, maybe you still needed subtitles, but you were getting there. and enhypen—your chaotic, teasing, protective older brothers—would be there every step of the way.
International Edition
1:00 PM – airport chaos
staff had warned you to keep your answers simple when reporters called questions, but did you listen? absolutely not.
reporter: “y/n! how do you feel about flying overseas?”
you: “uhhh… 비행기… scary… but also cool… i bring… snacks?”
jay literally facepalmed. “she said: flying is scary but cool, and she brought snacks.”
the fancams went viral. caption: subtitles for y/n: airport edition.
7:00 PM – first intl fansign
an american fan greeted you in english. you lit up instantly.
“oh my gosh hiiii!” you chirped, forgetting you were supposed to stick to short greetings. “thank you so much for supporting us! your nails are so cute by the way, where’d you get them done?”
the translator sitting next to you just stared, overwhelmed. meanwhile, sunghoon leaned over like, “see? this is her true form. talkative menace.”
the fan left crying happy tears, and sunghoon muttered, “she’s unstoppable in english.”
10:00 PM – backstage with txt
soobin had heard the rumors. he found you backstage and asked, “is it true you mix korean and english in one sentence?”
you blinked. “…yes?”
he grinned. “say something.”
you thought for a second. “오늘 무대… was so fun! 내 energy… like boom-boom.”
txt collapsed laughing. yeonjun immediately posted on weverse: y/n invented a new dialect. we’re all switching to it.
enhypen scolded them later: “don’t encourage her!!”
12:00 AM – vlive after intl tour stop
chat: “y/n what’s your fav part about performing abroad?”
you: “umm… the fans! their energy is… 너무 crazy. and also… 음식… delicious. i ate like, three burgers yesterday.”
heeseung: “stop exposing yourself.”
chat lost it. clips titled “y/n: professional idol, professional eater” trended within hours.
2:00 AM – dorm convo with staff
manager hyung sighed while updating your schedule. “y/n, your korean is improving, but—”
“but subtitles still necessary?” you asked innocently.
he chuckled. “yeah. but it’s your charm now. fans love it.”
from across the room, sunoo shouted: “see?! you’re a walking k-drama with subs!”
bonus: other idols roasting you
le sserafim’s eunchae once told you on a show, “unnie, i think i speak better korean than you.” you almost cried. enhypen laughed for 10 minutes straight.
newjeans’ hanni whispered in english, “don’t worry, i’ll be your translator if you’re mine.” instant besties.
seventeen’s hoshi tried speaking to you slowly in korean like you were five. you squinted at him and answered in full english just to spite him. enhypen cheered.
closing scene
back in the dorms, you were scrolling through fancams of yourself with “subtitles for y/n” edits.
“look,” you giggled, showing ni-ki. “they literally wrote ‘maknae language unlocked.’”
ni-ki laughed. “that’s your superpower.”
jay peeked over your shoulder. “no—it’s our curse.”
but when you aced a full sentence in korean the next day, the whole group erupted into cheers again. because yeah, subtitles might still follow you everywhere, but enhypen wouldn’t have you any other way.
Variety show Legend
knowing bros filming
you sat nervously in your uniform outfit while the hosts fired questions.
“y/n, introduce yourself!” kang ho-dong said.
you grinned. “안녕하세요… i’m y/n… maknae of enhypen… i’m… 17 years old… and… i like… chicken?”
the entire cast burst out laughing. lee soo-geun banged the desk. “did she just say she likes chicken?”
sunoo was already crying with laughter. “yes, that’s her fun fact.”
later, they asked you to do aegyo in korean, and you panicked:
“oppa… 사랑해… uh… very much!”
they had to stop filming for five minutes because everyone, including the staff, couldn’t breathe from laughing.
idol radio
dj: “y/n-ssi, what’s your favorite song right now?”
you: “uhh… honestly? it’s… um… ‘attention’ by newjeans. the beat is… 너무… catchy. and the chorus… makes me… dance crazy.”
jay leaned into the mic, deadpan: “translation: she loves the beat, it’s catchy, and it makes her dance a lot.”
dj: “ah, subtitles for y/n again.”
the whole broadcast studio cracked up.
weekly idol segment
time for random play dance. you tried your best, but halfway through you forgot the move.
“야야야!! not there!” heeseung shouted, dragging you to the right spot.
you pouted. “sorry, my brain… lagged.”
the hosts laughed so hard they replayed your “brain lag” moment three times on screen with big comic captions: “lagging maknae.exe.”
then came the korean quiz segment.
host: “y/n, say ‘i will eat delicious food’ in korean.”
you: “…저는… 맛있는… 음식… eat.”
everyone: explodes.
ni-ki clapped like a seal. “legendary answer!”
the hosts literally announced, “this is a new dialect. we will call it y/n-ese.”
closing chaos
a month later, clips of you on these shows went viral internationally. fans edited together a whole “y/n variety show compilation” with subtitles. the title? “the girl who made subtitles mandatory.”
during a live, you read a comment: “y/n, your subtitles are our favorite thing.”
you laughed. “maybe… one day… i’ll be… fluent… and no subtitles needed!”
jungwon glanced at the camera. “don’t worry. we’ll still tease her even when she’s fluent.”
jay added, smirking: “yeah, subtitles or not, she’s our baby.”
and honestly? you didn’t mind. because whether in english, korean, or your chaotic mix of both—enhypen understood you better than anyone.
Pairing: Formula 1 Grid x Driver!Blackpink5thMem!Reader
Genre: Platonic, humor, fluff, a sprinkle of pride and chaos
Warnings: Mild language, chaotic F1 boys, mentions of fame, overwork (lighthearted tone), proud besties
✦ “You don’t have to pick one dream.”
Y/N had always been fast.
Not just on the track — though the roar of her Porsche F1 engine could shake stadiums — but in life.
Fast in thought.
Fast in dreams.
Fast in the way she lived, laughed, created, and sometimes even crashed.
And somewhere between Seoul and Silverstone, between late-night vocal rehearsals and tire strategy briefings, the idea for Lifestyle began to form.
It started on a flight.
She was hunched over her notebook, headphones on, the glow of her tablet dim in the cabin. The rest of the Porsche crew was asleep, scattered across seats after another chaotic Grand Prix weekend.
But Y/N couldn’t sleep. Her head was too full — of music, of engines, of noise.
Her race engineer had told her earlier that day:
“You’ve got to slow down sometime, Y/N. You can’t keep chasing both roads.”
And Y/N had smiled, tight and small. Because she’d heard that a lot.
From producers.
From team principals.
From journalists who smiled too wide when they asked how she balanced being both a world-class driver and a global idol.
It always sounded like a compliment — but it felt like a warning.
So she wrote instead.
“Jet to Seoul, I barely breathe / Life moves quick, but I don’t leave / They say I can’t, I say I will / My world don’t stop, it just stands still.”
✦ “The garage is my green room.”
The next morning, she was back in the Porsche garage. Helmet on. Hands steady. The crew shouting, engines firing.
Lewis passed by with a grin. “Morning, superstar.”
Y/N laughed, tightening her gloves. “Says the man with seven world titles.”
Max walked past and threw her a look that was half amusement, half disbelief.
“Didn’t you drop a teaser for a song like… twelve hours ago?”
She nodded, smirking under her helmet. “Yeah. Had to finish recording it before FP1.”
Carlos, from across the paddock, yelled, “¡Imposible!”
And Lando’s voice followed,
“Bro, she’s probably gonna debut the live version during the cooldown room.”
The entire garage erupted in laughter, and Y/N just shook her head.
They teased, but they didn’t mean it badly.
The grid had seen her drive through exhaustion, perform through jet lag, and somehow stay soft-hearted through it all. She wasn’t just their colleague — she was their reminder that passion doesn’t have to fit one lane.
✦ “I made this for me — but I hope it helps someone else.”
When Lifestyle officially dropped, it wasn’t just a release — it was a declaration.
Y/N stood backstage at the M Countdown studio, her race suit half-zipped under her stage jacket. Porsche’s logo peeked through the sequins.
The beat hit — deep, metallic, like the sound of engines warming. Her voice flowed with that same precision she used on corners at Spa.
“Don’t slow me down, I’m born to move / Fast life, full heart, nothing to prove.”
The crowd roared.
But somewhere in that noise, she heard something quieter — her own heartbeat.
After the performance, she posted a photo on Instagram:
Helmet in one hand. Mic in the other. Caption: “This is what balance looks like. #Lifestyle”
✦ “She really did it.”
The grid saw it first.
Charles texted their group chat — “She’s trending #1 in twenty countries. Also P2 in quali. Are we sure she’s human?”
George replied, “Pretty sure she’s made of espresso and glitter.”
Then came Lewis again, quoting her song on his story:
“Fast life, full heart. Keep shining, lil sis.”
Even Max — famously allergic to sentiment — commented on her post:
“At least your music’s faster than your pit stops 😏.”
Y/N replied,
“Don’t make me lap you twice.”
✦ “This song isn’t about luxury. It’s about life.”
Weeks later, during a press conference in Austin, a reporter asked:
“Y/N, Lifestyle seems like a celebration — but also… a message. What do you want people to take from it?”
Y/N smiled, pausing before answering.
“Everyone talks about slowing down. About balance. And yeah, I get tired too. But… maybe balance isn’t always stillness.”
“Maybe it’s motion — choosing to chase the things that make you feel alive, even if it’s messy. Even if it’s fast.”
The room was silent for a moment.
Then the flashbulbs started again.
Lewis nudged her after. “That was powerful, kid.”
She grinned. “I learned from the best.”
✦ “Fast doesn’t mean fleeting.”
Months passed. The world kept moving, and so did Y/N.
Between podiums and encores, between early mornings and late flights, she never stopped writing. Never stopped racing.
Her crew joked that she probably mixed her own songs during pit stop briefings.
Her producers joked she probably visualized sound in lap times.
But the truth was simpler.
She loved both — the music and the motion.
She wasn’t splitting herself in two; she was expanding into more.
✦ Epilogue: The Monaco Night
After the Monaco GP, long after the champagne dried and the cameras left, the Porsche team stayed behind on the empty pit wall.
Y/N sat with her legs dangling over the edge, looking at the lights reflecting off the water. The city still hummed, soft and far.
Her race engineer sat beside her, quiet for a while before saying,
“You know, when I said you couldn’t do both…”
She looked over.
“Yeah?”
“I was wrong.”
She smiled — the tired, honest kind that didn’t need an audience.
“Good,” she said softly. “Because this is my lifestyle.”
✦ The world catches up to her speed
Lifestyle didn’t just go viral — it became a phenomenon.
It became the anthem of morning runs, late-night study sessions, and anyone trying to juggle too much but refusing to give up.
F1 adopted it too, unintentionally turning the grid into her unofficial promo team.
✦ “Fast life, full heart” — the new paddock phrase
At the next race in Singapore, the Porsche team rolled her car into the paddock with Lifestyle blasting through the speakers.
Y/N covered her face with her hands, laughing.
“Guys, please—”
“It’s for morale!” her mechanics shouted back.
Later, during the drivers’ parade, Carlos leaned toward her and sang off-key,
“Fast life, full heart, nothin’ to proveee~”
Lando chimed in, pretending to hold a mic. “And she’s still faster than you!”
The cameras caught it, of course.
#LifestyleChallenge trended that weekend.
✦ “She’s performing at the paddock?!?”
When Porsche announced Y/N would perform Lifestyle during the Abu Dhabi season finale — her home team’s event, in front of every driver — the world nearly combusted.
The stage was set near the pit lane, neon lights blending with the sound of engines cooling.
Y/N stood center stage, wearing her Porsche team jacket over a glittering outfit, mic in hand.
She took a deep breath.
“This one’s for everyone who’s ever been told they couldn’t handle more than one dream.”
The beat dropped.
The crowd — drivers, engineers, fans, and even the FIA officials — cheered like they were at a concert and a race.
Lewis was recording.
Charles was dancing.
Max… was actually smiling.
By the last chorus, every driver was shouting the lyrics.
“Fast life, full heart, nothing to prove — this is my lifestyle!”
✦ “The finish line isn’t the end.”
That night, as fireworks exploded over Yas Marina, Y/N stood at the pit wall again. The same view, same quiet hum in her chest.
But this time, she wasn’t wondering if she could keep doing both.
She knew she could.
And she knew that every fan, every little girl watching, every person who ever loved two things too much to choose — they knew it too.
I just read your seventeen maknae reader adopting TWS AND I JUST NEED MORE OF THAT IM BEGGING YOU
🐥 “maknae of maknaes – part 2”
Summary: Y/N might be the youngest member of SEVENTEEN, but somehow she has become the unofficial leader, emotional support human, and snack provider for rookie group TWS. Now they follow her everywhere like baby ducks… and SEVENTEEN is slowly realizing they have accidentally become a very chaotic extended family.
Warnings: none. just ducklings, exhausted hyungs, and Y/N accidentally building a daycare center inside HYBE.
PART 1
THE DUCKLINGS DISCOVER THE PRACTICE ROOM
It started innocently.
Y/N had mentioned once—once—that SEVENTEEN’s practice room had better speakers than the other rooms in the building.
That was her second mistake.
Because three days later she opened the door to their dance studio and found all of TWS sitting neatly on the floor like they were attending a lecture.
Seven pairs of eyes turned toward her.
“NOONA!!”
She blinked.
“…why are you all here.”
One of them held up a sports drink like an offering.
“We brought hydration.”
Behind her, Dino leaned against the wall and whispered, “You’ve created a cult.”
SEVENTEEN WALKS INTO THE SITUATION
The rest of SEVENTEEN arrived five minutes later.
Seungcheol stopped in the doorway.
There were seven rookies sitting cross-legged around Y/N while she explained stretching techniques like a tiny dance instructor.
“Okay, listen carefully,” she said, pointing at someone’s knee. “If you don’t warm up your joints properly you’ll regret it in five years.”
The room was silent.
Everyone was listening.
Even Woozi.
Seungcheol slowly turned to Jeonghan.
“…why are there 6 children in my practice room.”
Jeonghan shrugged.
“Our maknae adopted them.”
DUCKLING BEHAVIOR LEVEL: MAXIMUM
Once practice started, things somehow got worse.
Because the TWS members began copying everything Y/N did.
She stretches → they stretch.
She drinks water → seven bottles open.
She ties her hair → suddenly there’s a hair-tie crisis.
Hoshi noticed it first.
“…they’re literally mirroring her.”
Joshua laughed.
“They think she’s the leader.”
Y/N clapped once.
“Okay! From the top!”
The ducklings immediately jumped to their feet.
Dino stared.
“…I trained under these people for years and they listen to you better than they listen to us.”
THE SNACK INCIDENT
After rehearsal, Y/N opened her bag.
Inside were snacks she had secretly hoarded for herself.
Granola bars. Gummies. Banana milk.
Immediately seven heads turned like radar.
“Noona…”
She sighed dramatically.
“You’re all terrible influences on my grocery budget.”
But she passed them out anyway.
Mingyu watched in disbelief as she distributed snacks like a kindergarten teacher.
“You realize,” he said, “you’re feeding an entire group.”
She shrugged.
“They’re growing boys.”
Seungkwan whispered, “You’re literally not that much older than them.”
“And?” she said.
THE VARIETY SHOW MOMENT
A week later, they all ended up on the same variety show.
The MC noticed immediately.
“Y/N, why are TWS members sitting around you like bodyguards?”
Because they were.
They had somehow formed a semi-circle around her.
One of them answered proudly.
“We’re protecting noona.”
The audience laughed.
Seungcheol buried his face in his hands.
“This is my fault,” he muttered.
THE DANCE CHALLENGE
During filming, the producers suggested a dance challenge.
SEVENTEEN vs TWS.
The rookies looked terrified.
Until Y/N clapped her hands.
“Okay ducklings,” she said calmly. “We practiced this.”
The entire SEVENTEEN team froze.
“…we?”
Then the music started.
And suddenly TWS executed the choreography perfectly.
Sharp. Clean. Confident.
Hoshi’s jaw dropped.
“WHEN DID YOU TRAIN THEM.”
Y/N smiled.
“Lunch breaks.”
Woozi stared at her.
“You’ve been secretly running a dance academy.”
THE FAN DISCOVERY
It didn’t take long for fans to notice.
Soon there were compilation videos online titled:
“TWS FOLLOWING Y/N LIKE DUCKLINGS FOR 7 MINUTES STRAIGHT.”
Clips included:
• them carrying her bags
• them cheering the loudest at SEVENTEEN stages
• one of them holding an umbrella over her in the rain
• another one running across the hallway just to give her a snack
Seungkwan watched one of the edits.
“…we raised a leader.”
Vernon nodded.
“She’s powerful.”
THE DAY THEY VISITED SEVENTEEN’S DORM
This was the moment things officially spiraled.
Because Y/N casually mentioned the dorm once.
“Yeah our couch is super comfortable,” she said.
That was all it took.
Two days later she opened the door to find TWS standing outside with snacks.
“…no.”
They bowed politely.
“Noona please.”
Behind her, Mingyu peeked out.
“…why are there six teenagers at our door.”
Y/N sighed.
“Field trip.”
SEVENTEEN VS THE DUCKLINGS
The dorm became chaos within minutes.
DK started teaching them vocal warmups.
Hoshi started teaching tiger poses.
Jeonghan started convincing them to prank Mingyu.
Within an hour the living room looked like a youth camp.
Y/N sat in the middle of it all eating chips.
“This is fine,” she said.
Seungcheol stared at the ceiling.
“I am aging rapidly.”
THE MOMENT THAT MADE EVERYONE SOFT
Later that night things quieted down.
The rookies sat around the living room talking.
One of them spoke shyly.
“Noona helped us a lot when we were nervous before debut.”
Another nodded.
“She always tells us we’re doing well.”
Y/N immediately covered her face.
“Stop being emotional.”
But the room was silent.
Even SEVENTEEN looked soft.
Joshua smiled gently.
“She does that for us too.”
Dino nodded.
“Our maknae takes care of everyone.”
THE REALIZATION
As they walked the rookies to the elevator later, Seungcheol crossed his arms.
“You know something.”
Y/N looked up.
“What?”
“You didn’t just adopt them.”
She tilted her head.
“…what do you mean.”
He gestured behind her.
Where the TWS members were waving goodbye enthusiastically.
Could you write about reader looking and behaving alot like a certain driver (old or current) that people think their related and the rest make theories as to how
P.s i love your writing style
"the grid vs the oscar piastri clone"
Pairing: platonic!2025 F1 grid x driver!reader
Warnings: none, just chaos and confused drivers
A/n: someone sent two requests about this concept so i decided to combine them into one because they worked too well together 😭 enjoy!
There are two things the Formula 1 paddock knows for certain.
Racing is unpredictable.
Y/N L/N looks suspiciously like Oscar Piastri.
No one knows when the comparisons actually started.
Maybe it was the first press conference of the season when the rookie driver sat quietly in her chair, hands folded neatly in her lap, staring forward with the exact same calm, mildly disinterested expression that Oscar always had.
Maybe it was during testing when someone asked her a question and she answered with the most painfully dry response imaginable.
Or maybe—according to Lando—it was when she accidentally walked into the McLaren garage and nobody noticed for five whole minutes.
“Mate,” Lando says one day, staring between the two of them like he’s watching a tennis match. “This is getting ridiculous.”
Oscar, completely unbothered, sips his coffee.
Y/N stands beside him, equally unbothered.
They even sip at the same time.
The entire nearby group of drivers collectively pauses.
Max squints.
“Are we sure they’re not related?”
“I’ve asked,” Lando says immediately. “Multiple times.”
“And?” Charles asks.
“They both just stared at me.”
Oscar shrugs slightly.
Y/N shrugs in the exact same way.
George physically turns around and walks away because he refuses to deal with whatever weird simulation glitch this is.
The thing is, it’s not just the looks.
Yes, they already share an unfortunate amount of similarities there.
Same calm expression.
Same “perpetually unimpressed” eyes.
Same posture.
Same energy of someone who looks like they’re quietly judging the world.
But it’s the behavior that really freaks people out.
Because Y/N is a rookie.
Yet she behaves like a slightly smaller, slightly younger version of Oscar Piastri.
Example number one:
Press conferences.
A journalist asks a question.
“Y/N, how did the car feel today?”
She pauses.
Thinks.
Then says flatly,
“It moved forward when I pressed the throttle.”
The entire room bursts into laughter.
Oscar nods approvingly.
Example number two:
Media day.
A reporter tries to stir drama.
“Do you think you can beat the more experienced drivers?”
Y/N blinks once.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s the goal.”
Silence.
Somewhere in the background, Lando collapses against a wall laughing.
Oscar, meanwhile, looks like a proud older brother.
Or possibly like he’s watching a very successful science experiment.
But the true chaos begins when the fans notice.
Because Formula 1 fans have two main hobbies:
Watching racing
Creating the most unhinged conspiracy theories imaginable
And once they noticed the Y/N and Oscar situation?
It was over.
Theory #1: Secret siblings.
“Maybe their parents kept it hidden.”
“Maybe they’re half siblings.”
“Maybe they only just found out.”
Alex Albon reads this theory aloud in the driver’s room.
Oscar looks mildly confused.
Y/N just says,
“My parents would’ve mentioned that.”
Theory #2: Long lost cousins.
“Okay but what if their families are related somehow??”
Fernando, who has seen a lot in his life, sighs deeply.
“Formula 1 fans are something else.”
Theory #3: Clone experiment.
This one becomes Max’s personal favorite.
“I’m telling you,” Max says during a drivers’ dinner, pointing between them. “Red Bull secretly cloned Oscar and released version two.”
Y/N raises an eyebrow.
Oscar doesn’t even react.
“Version two?” Y/N asks.
Max nods seriously.
“Yeah. Improved rookie model.”
Lando nearly chokes on his drink.
Theory #4: Oscar trained her.
This one actually gets surprisingly popular.
Fans start making long threads online analyzing their behavior.
Their posture.
Their interviews.
Their sarcasm.
Even their radio messages.
“See? Same tone!”
“Same energy!”
“This is clearly mentorship!”
Which leads to the funniest moment of the entire season.
Because during a press conference someone actually asks it.
“Y/N, fans think Oscar might have influenced your driving style and personality. What do you think?”
The room goes quiet.
Oscar slowly turns his head toward her.
Y/N thinks about it for a moment.
Then she says calmly,
“I learned sarcasm from the internet.”
Lando loses it instantly.
But despite the jokes, the grid actually finds the whole thing kind of hilarious.
And weirdly wholesome.
Because the two of them end up getting along really well.
They sit next to each other in briefings sometimes.
They have similar humor.
Similar calm personalities.
And both of them seem perfectly content letting the rest of the grid spiral into confusion around them.
One weekend in Monaco, the resemblance finally causes the ultimate mix-up.
Oscar is supposed to go to a McLaren media session.
Y/N is supposed to go to hers.
Instead, Y/N accidentally walks into the McLaren garage.
No one notices.
Not the engineers.
Not the cameras.
Not even Lando.
For an entire three minutes.
Until Andrea walks past.
Stops.
Walks backwards.
And says slowly,
“…You’re not Oscar.”
Y/N blinks.
“No.”
Lando turns around.
Sees her.
And immediately drops to the floor laughing.
Oscar, standing a few garages down, receives a text from Lando.
“THERES TWO OF YOU.”
Later that day, someone lines them up side by side again.
Max walks in.
Looks at them.
Shakes his head.
“I still think you’re clones.”
Oscar shrugs.
Y/N shrugs.
Charles points accusingly.
“STOP DOING THAT.”
By the end of the season, the theories never actually stop.
Fans keep debating.
Drivers keep joking.
And occasionally someone in the paddock still gets confused for half a second when they see them walking around.
But honestly?
Neither of them really minds.
Because if there’s one thing the grid agrees on, it’s this:
One Oscar Piastri is already dangerous enough on track.
O Hi, could you write a story where Yn is Sebastian Vettel's 2 or 3 year old daughter and she's in love with Raikkonen (obviously a childhood crush)?And it would be like her following him (Raikkonen) everywhere, asking to be picked up by him.
DSorry if it's not written correctly, English is not my first language.
🏁 “The Iceman and the Tiny Shadow”
Pairing: Platonic!F1 Grid x Toddler!Vettel!Reader x Father!Sebastian Vettel
Genre: Wholesome fluff, paddock humor, childhood crush, found family
A/N: Set during the years when Sebastian Vettel and Kimi Räikkönen were both racing on the grid together. Imagine the paddock discovering that a tiny Vettel has decided the quietest man in Formula 1 is her favorite person in the world.
The Tiny Vettel
Everyone in the paddock knows two things about Sebastian Vettel’s daughter.
She is two years old and fearless.
She has decided that Kimi Räikkönen is the greatest human being alive.
No one understands why.
Not the drivers.
Not the engineers.
Not even Seb.
But the moment she waddles into the paddock in her tiny Ferrari jacket, there is only one name on her lips.
“Kimi?”
The Beginning
It starts innocently.
One afternoon in the Ferrari garage, you’re sitting on a toolbox swinging your little legs while your dad talks with engineers.
Across the garage stands Kimi.
Arms crossed.
Quiet.
Expression neutral.
You stare.
He stares back.
Your eyes widen like you’ve just discovered treasure.
You slide off the toolbox and toddle directly toward him.
“Up.”
No greeting.
No hesitation.
Just up.
Seb nearly drops a tablet.
“Kleine Maus— wait—”
Too late.
Kimi looks down at the tiny human tugging on his race suit.
“…Okay.”
He picks you up.
Just like that.
And apparently that decision seals his fate forever.
The Shadow Begins
From that day forward, the paddock notices something strange.
Wherever Kimi goes…
There is a very small Vettel following him.
He walks toward the motorhome.
Tiny footsteps behind him.
He heads to the drivers’ briefing.
Little voice calling:
“Kimi! Wait!”
He tries to grab a coffee.
A tiny hand grabs his sleeve.
“Up again.”
And Kimi—who barely talks to grown adults—just sighs and lifts you onto his hip like it’s completely normal.
The Grid Finds Out
The other drivers notice immediately.
Daniel nearly chokes laughing the first time he sees it.
“Mate,” he says to Seb, pointing.
“Your kid’s got a crush.”
Seb groans.
“She’s two.”
Daniel shrugs.
“Still counts.”
Lewis crouches beside you once.
“Hey, you wanna come say hi?”
You shake your head firmly.
“Kimi.”
Lewis laughs.
“Fair enough.”
Kimi’s New Job
Kimi pretends not to care.
But the paddock starts noticing things.
Like how he automatically slows his walking speed when you follow him.
Or how he lifts you up before you even ask now.
Or how he lets you sit in his lap during quiet garage moments while he drinks coffee.
You play with the zipper of his suit.
“Kimi car fast?”
“Yes.”
“Vroom?”
“Yes.”
Conversation over.
You are thrilled.
Sebastian’s Confusion
Sebastian watches this whole situation with increasing disbelief.
One afternoon he kneels beside you.
“You know Papa drives a race car too, right?”
You nod.
“Kimi faster.”
Seb sputters.
“Excuse me?”
Across the garage, Kimi smirks just slightly.
The Drivers Tease Him
The grid absolutely refuses to let this go.
Daniel: “She’s chosen her favorite uncle.”
Lewis: “You’ve been replaced, Seb.”
Even Fernando laughs.
“You cannot compete with the Iceman.”
Seb sighs dramatically.
“I carried her for nine months.”
Daniel corrects him.
“…Your wife did.”
Seb points accusingly at Kimi.
“You did nothing!”
Kimi shrugs.
“She likes me.”
The Famous Lap Walk
One Sunday before a race, the drivers walk the track.
Kimi is halfway down the straight when he hears the familiar tiny voice behind him.
“Kimi wait!”
You’re waddling across the asphalt in your little sneakers.
Seb is jogging behind you, completely defeated.
Kimi stops.
Turns around.
And automatically crouches so you can climb into his arms.
You point down the track.
“Walk!”
So now Kimi Räikkönen—world champion, professional racing driver—is carrying a toddler around the circuit while the rest of the grid laughs behind him.
The Purest Moment
After one race, Kimi climbs out of his car and heads toward the garage.
You’re already there.
Waiting.
The second you see him you sprint (as much as a toddler can sprint).
“KIMI!”
He kneels just in time to catch you.
You wrap your tiny arms around his neck.
“I watched!”
He nods.
“Good.”
Then you whisper proudly:
“Kimi best.”
Behind you, Sebastian clutches his chest dramatically.
“I’m right here!”
You wave at him.
“Hi Papa.”
Then go back to hugging Kimi.
The entire Ferrari garage erupts in laughter.
The Unspoken Truth
Kimi will never admit it.
But everyone sees it.
The quiet patience.
The tiny smiles when you ramble.
The way he always makes sure you’re safe before handing you back to Seb.
And whenever someone jokes about your little crush…
Kimi just shrugs.
“She’s good company.”
Which, coming from Kimi Räikkönen, is basically the highest compliment in the world.
The Legend of the Tiny Shadow
For the rest of those seasons on the grid, the paddock gets used to the sight.
A legendary Formula 1 driver.
And the tiny Vettel who decided he was her favorite person.
No one questions it anymore.
Because honestly?
The Iceman having a tiny, giggling shadow everywhere he goes might be the cutest thing the paddock has ever seen. 🏁
may i request for platonic grid x female rookie driver reader who is ABSOLUTELY CHAOTIC AND HYPE. since its her first year, she wants to be social with all the drivers she grew up watching on the tv. like after a race shes hyping up the drivers who got on the podium and is such fun during interviews with other drivers. and during races, shes listening to the most random playlist of songs ever on the radio, like shes grooving to joyride by kesha and is shouting out the lyrics the way lando shouts out "its friday then, its saturday sunday WHAT". like shes just fun, chaos, and hype rolled into one and the grid loves her for that!
thank you in advance! ^^
🏁 “The Grid Adopts a Human Energy Drink”
Pairing: F1 2025 Grid x Platonic!Rookie Driver!Reader
Genre: Humor, chaotic rookie energy, found family, wholesome paddock vibes
A/N: Every grid needs one unhinged hype person. In 2025… it’s you.
The Rookie Problem™
When the new rookie joined the grid this year, everyone expected the usual.
Quiet.
Focused.
Maybe a little nervous around the veterans.
What they didn’t expect…
Was you.
A walking tornado of excitement, chaos, and pure enthusiasm who had apparently waited her entire childhood to meet these people.
Because to you?
These aren’t just competitors.
These are the drivers you watched on TV growing up.
And now you’re racing them.
Which means you have decided to befriend every single one.
Immediately.
The First Race Weekend
Your first driver parade.
Everyone is politely waving.
Smiling.
Professional.
And then there’s you.
Standing up in the truck, pointing excitedly across the lineup.
“OH MY GOD THAT’S MAX!”
Max turns slowly.
“…We’re racing against her.”
You’re already leaning across the seats.
“Hi! Big fan! Not of the losing part though!”
Max blinks.
Then laughs.
“Good luck.”
Your Life Mission: Hype Everyone
Post-race celebrations quickly become your favorite part of the weekend.
Because while most drivers are cooling down…
You are sprinting toward parc fermé like someone just announced free pizza.
Podium drivers step out of their cars—
And suddenly you appear.
“LET’S GO!!!”
You’re clapping like a proud sports mom.
“THAT WAS INSANE!”
Charles is laughing as you shake his shoulders.
“You were flying! Sector two? Crazy!”
Charles grins.
“You watched my sectors?”
“I watch EVERYTHING.”
The Interview Chaos
Broadcasters quickly learn that putting you in a joint interview guarantees chaos.
One weekend you’re standing beside Lando after a race.
The interviewer asks:
“So Y/N, how was the battle today?”
You immediately point at Lando.
“THIS GUY.”
Lando groans.
“Oh no.”
“You scared me on lap 32!”
“You locked up!”
“YOU BRAKED EARLY!”
The interviewer tries to continue.
You’re still arguing.
Then suddenly you both start laughing.
The clip goes viral instantly.
The Music Situation
But the real chaos happens during races.
Because most drivers listen to calm instructions on the radio.
Strategy.
Tyres.
Fuel numbers.
Meanwhile your engineer is fighting for their life.
Lap 18 — Radio
Engineer:
“Y/N, we need to focus—”
Music blasting faintly through your helmet.
You’re singing.
LOUDLY.
“YOU’RE MY JOYRIDE!”
Your engineer sighs.
“…Please tell me that’s not playing right now.”
“IT HELPS THE VIBES.”
Lap 25
You’re stuck in traffic behind Lando.
Suddenly you shout:
“ITS FRIDAY THEN—”
Across the track, Lando hears it faintly through his radio.
He bursts out laughing.
Engineer:
“Lando what happened?”
“THE ROOKIE IS SINGING AGAIN.”
Lap 41
You make a clean overtake.
Immediately screaming into the radio:
“THAT WAS SICK!”
Engineer:
“Yes… but maybe less singing now.”
“No promises!”
The Grid’s Reaction
At first the other drivers think it’s a phase.
A rookie trying to hide nerves.
But then it keeps happening.
Race after race.
You are:
• hyping podium finishers
• dancing in the cooldown room
• fist-bumping mechanics from other teams
• congratulating rivals mid-interview
Eventually the grid accepts the truth.
You’re just like this.
All the time.
The Cooldown Room Incident
After one race you’re watching highlights with the other drivers.
You suddenly jump up.
“OH MY GOD LOOK AT THAT OVERTAKE!”
Everyone turns.
You’re pointing at a replay of Lewis.
“That was SMOOTH.”
Lewis laughs.
“Thank you.”
You bow dramatically.
“Masterclass.”
Max’s Diagnosis
One weekend Max watches you sprint across the paddock yelling congratulations to someone who finished P7.
He shakes his head.
“She’s like… a golden retriever.”
Charles nods.
“But for Formula 1.”
The Unexpected Effect
Slowly the grid realizes something.
Your energy is contagious.
Bad qualifying?
You’re cheering someone up.
Hard race?
You’re congratulating the effort.
Awkward interviews?
You turn them into chaos comedy.
The paddock actually feels lighter with you around.
The Moment That Seals It
After one chaotic race, you finish P8.
Good result.
You climb out of the car and immediately run over to the podium drivers.
“YOU GUYS WERE INSANE!”
Champagne spraying everywhere.
You’re cheering louder than half the crowd.
Someone hands you a bottle.
You start dancing.
The other drivers are laughing.
Later That Night
In the drivers’ lounge, Max shakes his head.
“You realize you’re racing against us, right?”
You grin.
“Yeah.”
Pause.
“But I also grew up watching you guys.”
Lewis smiles.
“That never changes.”
Grid Verdict
By the end of the season the grid has officially decided:
You are not just a rookie.
You are:
• the hype squad
• the paddock DJ
• the chaos generator
• the emotional support extrovert
And honestly?
Formula 1 might never be the same without you.
Because every time the cameras catch you dancing in parc fermé…
