#f1 x driver!reader

[internetmultifandomfangirl]

Trying to find f1/ lando norris fic where reader is a driver and she's in her hotel room and a crazy stalker fan breaks in and holds her hostage and the othe drivers save her

[jadeittic]

— driver!yn and lewis hamilton having a older brother/younger sister dynamic where he constantly protects her from media pressure

Nobody in the paddock noticed it at first.

Now when YN first entered F1 all sharp edges and impossible confidence, walking into garages like she owned them despite being barely old enough to rent a car in some countries.

Not when she started fighting wheel-to-wheel with champions without a flicker of hesitation. Not even when she started becoming one of the most talked-about drivers on the grid almost overnight.

What people noticed first was how quickly the media turned on her.

One bad qualifying? Headlines. One aggressive overtake? Dangerous. One radio outburst? Emotional. One confident interview? Arrogant.

Meanwhile half the grid could slam helmets around and call strategy "fucking terrible" over team radio and be praised for passion.

Fans noticed immediately, and so did Lewis Hamilton.

The first time the public really saw it was during a Thursday media day. YN jad just gotten out of a disastrous press conference.

Three journalists in a row had asked variations of the same question.

"Do you think the pressure is getting to you?"

"Are you worried your emotional reactions are hurting the team?"

"Do you think you need to mature a little as a driver?"

She was twenty years old. A race prior, another driver had literally shoved a photographer after retiring from the race, and the headlines had called him "fiery."

YN sat there under blinding camera lights gripping her water bottle so hard her knuckles went pale.

"I think," she said carefully, "people are allowed to have emotions in this sport."

One reporter smiled in that awful, patronizing way.

"Yes, but don't you think women in motorsport are judged differently because emotional reactions stand out more?"

The room went quiet. Not because they disagreed, but because they knew what kind of answer would generate views and clicks.

YN's jaw tightened and before she could answer, a voice cut through from the side of the media pen.

"I think that question answers itself."

Lewis was still in his race suit, sunglasses hanging from his collar, media handler looking vaguely panicked three steps behind him.

The reporter blinked. "Sorry?"

He leaned one hand on the back of YN's chair casually. "You guys ask her questions you'd never ask the rest of us," he said.

"Then you write articles about her reactions afterward."

The clip exploded online within an hour. Fans replayed it endlessly not because Lewis raised his voice, but because he sounded tired.

Like he'd seen this exact cycle happen before.

After that, people started noticing everything. Like how Lewis always seemed to appear whenever interviews got too invasive.

How he'd interrupt questions with "She already answered that," or "You're asking the same thing three different ways."

They dynamic became impossible to miss especially during race weekends. Lewis checking whether she'd eaten after difficult sessions, Lewis physically steering her away from hostile interview clusters, Lewis grabbing her phone during one particularly bad media day and muttering "Nope. You are not reading that today."

Fans adored it. Entire compilations started appearing online.

Lewis Hamilton being protective of YN LN for 12 minutes straight

LewYN never beating the sibling dynamic allegations

Lewis once again adopting another rookie

But underneath all the jokes was something fiercely genuine. Because when the pressure got unbearable, when the headlines got cruel, when social media turned vicious after a bad race, Lewis was always the first person checking on her.

And YN, despite pretending otherwise, always answered his calls.

[ladybunny44]

| Hello. Here is another oneshot that i created from this morning, today the lucky category is F1.

Word Count : 1512

Rigged  -  Arvid Lindblad

She is the reserve driver for Racing Bulls who, of course, get hates and backlash from being the female driver and dating the rookie, Arvid Lindblad who’s the official driver for F1 Racing Bulls. 

It was qualifying season in Miami, and Liam Lawson somehow got hospitalized for sudden food poisoning. She was chosen to be his replacement for this race. 

But, something in her guts telling something will happen and it’s not a good feeling but a bad one. She kept it to herself and focused on winning the race. 

Come the race day, her teams are readying her car and Arvid's car. While doing that, she and Arvid were talking to each other about the strategy that they had been practicing for weeks.

“ You okay, darling? You look uneasy. “ Arvid gently holds her hand discreetly so they would not  be caught on camera.

“ Yeah, I'm okay. Just thinking. “ She replied, squeezing her lover's hands gently to reassure him. Arvid just stares at her not believing her.

“ Don’t think much, okay? You can do this, you have been breaking records and earn half of the grid respect. Even Liam agreed that you should be the one replacing him this season. “ Arvid gently reassures her and kisses her forehead quickly before their team calls them to gear up.

They both went different ways and started to suit up, when she wore her helmet, she felt the buckle of her helmet a bit loose, and before she could ask, she was ushered to her car quickly by a pit crew member.

She entered her car and started wearing her gloves, suddenly a steering wheel appeared in front of her and was put on before she could say anything. She looks surprised and about to call him out until the team told her to be released.   

At first, she seems to be in control well and the race is about to start, but still, the steering wheel looks more different than she usually gets. She was behind the Haas team, Ollie Bearman and besides and beside her, Sergio Perez from Cadillac. Behind her, is Esteban Ocon from Haas as she’s in the P6.

The light turned green and all of the drivers accelerated and launched their car onto the track. She immediately overtakes Ollie in the second corner, and overtakes the others, making her in P5. 

In her 36th lap, something happened, somehow when she pressed the radio button to communicate with her engineer, the steering seemed to be controlled by its own. Her eyes widen as the steering rams onto Oscar's car and brakes, making Gabriel's car crash onto her. 

“ Oh look, there seems to be something going on with our new rookie from Racing Bulls, she seems to be causing some accidents there. “ One of the commentators said as he watched her car moving left and right as the other driver tried to avoid her.

The camera panned towards the Racing Bulls engineering pit wall seeing how panicked everyone looked and her engineer seemed to be trying to call on her but failed.

While the rest of her crew were panicking, her car suddenly swerved towards the right hitting Max and Lewis while her car accelerated towards the wall at full speed. Her eyes widened in panic and everything turned pitch black.

“ Oh no! The rookie seems to hit the wall and it’s on fire!! Someone help her!! “ The commentator said with his eyes widened and concerned.

The red flag had been brought out as all the other drivers slowly entered the pit lane. Arvid quickly climbs out from his car and runs towards you. He avoided his crew and the team nearby her. The other driver also has the same ideas and quickly goes to her. 

The closest one is Oscar who had been taken out by her, quickly pulled her out as the fire slowly emerged and managed to drag her out with the help of Lewis. Both of them dragged her away from the scene as the medical team member and fire crew immediately put out the fire.

They gently lay her down and immediately took off her helmet shouting for help as there was a lot of blood covering her face. The medical team immediately arrived and started to treat her wounds and only to realize, her white suit is covered in blood meaning there could be a wound inside her suit. They immediately loaded her up inside the ambulance as Arvid climbed up not caring about others and followed her to the hospital. 

It’s been a few hours since the accident and the whole grid somehow manages to enter the hospital room which had been upgraded to a bigger one, thanks to Max who thought of her as his little sister. 

They all conversed with each other and even Liam managed to come despite the doctor’s orders. Arvid stays by her side and does not let any of the crew enter as they are all waiting outside. 

Suddenly, he felt her fingers twitch and she suddenly woke up in panic, making Arvid quickly cupped her face whispering gently.

“ Baby, calm down, we’re here. You’re safe, darling, you’re safe. “ She sobbed when she managed to calm down and look around, seeing all the drivers, even the one she took out, making her cry more.

“ Calm down, dear. We’re all okay. “ Lewis spoke softly, giving her a soft hug as she sobbed onto his shoulder, he had been with her from the start and the one who officially adopted her. 

Suddenly, the door opened revealing a doctor and the Racing Bulls CEO, Laurent Mekies. The doctor checks her eyeballs and her reflexes before concludes the whole thing. 

“ She got a little trauma, especially on her rib, head and her legs. The crash was big and the impact was too big for a body like her to handle. She also got a few cuts which caused some internal bleeding, one of it is on her stomach due to some parts of her car that must have hit her during the crash. I would suggest for her to take a short leave for 3 months at least as her body still needs proper healing. “

Arvid listened intently and nodded his head, “ I will make sure of it, thank you Doctor. 

The doctor gave a small smile and wished her well before leaving her with her CEO and other drivers. 

“ Now, dear. Can you tell me what happened, we tried to contact you and suddenly your car looked out of control. “ Lauren asked softly, placing a small bouquet on her bedside before taking place besides her.

She looked at her hands recalling the moments, “ I, myself, not sure exactly. Before we started, I was given my helmet with my buckle loosened and a crew member ushered me to my car before I could say anything. And then, the same staff also put my steering wheel on suddenly prior minutes before we were released. The steering wheel looks a bit different from mine though. That’s when during the race, the steering wheel moves on its own like someone was controlling it. I tried to contact but it came out with static. “ 

“ This is sabotaging, ain’t it? “ Lando who kept quiet voiced out with a stern expression.

“ Not sure, unless we get evidence.” Lauren said while deeply thinking. 

“ Evidence?! Isn’t this enough evidence, look at her. She’s badly injured. “ Max said angrily, pointing at you. 

“ I will ask for CCTV surveillance during the time that she mentioned and let’s see if we can find the culprit. “ Lauren suggested trying to defuse the situation. 

“ Make sure to notify me if you do. I’m not letting anyone get away after hurting my girlfriend. “ Arvid said grimly, holding her hand tight. 

Lauren nodded and pats her legs gently, “ I will get going now but rest assured, you will get the justice you needed. “

Her eyes tear up and nodded solemnly apologizing again. 

“ Stop apologizing now, we’re all fine and mad after hearing your story. But rest assured, all your brothers here and even the girls are spamming our phone to check on you. “ Charles said softly, wiping her tears like a brother.

“ Now rest, tomorrow I will bring Lily as she is also worried about you. “ Oscar mentioned pulling her onto a hug and steps outside followed by other drivers who also gave her small pats, hugs and comforting words. 

Now her and Arvid are alone. 

Before she could utter another word, she was pulled into a tight hug by her boyfriend. She felt his shoulder shakes and her hospital gown wet by his tears. 

“ You don’t know how scared I was when I saw your car and no response from you. “ 

Her eyes tear up again as she cries out hugging him tightly, Arvid pulls back wiping her tears and kisses her softly as she sobs between the kisses. They both pulled away and she lays down pulling Arvid with her. 

“ Rest, I will always be here for you. “ Arvid muttered, kissing her forehead.

@ladybunny44, do not plagiarised. Feel free to request.

[jadeittic]

hi, can write you something about driver!reader imagine, has Sebastian Vettel as her manager or mentor (like Oscar Piastri and Mark Webber)

lewyn this, totoyn that, what about sebyn???

Sebastian Vettel had promised himself he was done with Formula 1.

Done with politics. Done with the cameras. Done with the constant noise that came with being Sebastian Vettel.

When he retired, people thought he would disappear completely. And for a while, he did.

No paddock appearances. No interviews. No rumors about a comeback. Just silence.

Which was why the entire F1 world losts its mind the first time he walked back into a paddock.

Not in team kit. Not in FIA gear. Not even as a commentator.

Just him. Just Sebastian. Basball cap pulled low, coffee in hand, walking through the paddock like he'd never left.

Questions started before he even reached the Mercedes garage.

"Sebastian, are you consulting for Mercedes?" "Are you returning?" "Why are you here?"

And Sebastian just smiled slightly and said, "I'm here for someone."

Nobody expected "someone" to be YN LN.

The rookie. The ex-MotoGP rider the entire paddock had spent months doubting before she even touched an F1 car completely.

But then people started noticing things.

How Sebastian watched every one of her sessions from the garage. How he stood behind the engineers during debriefs without speaking unless necessary. How she unconciously searched for him after every run.

And the biggest thing is that YN listened to him.

Not to be polite. Not to be professional. But because she trusted him. Which said everything.

The truth came out during an interview after qualifying. She'd just dragged the car to P3 in mixed conditions, still flushed from adrenaline when a reporter asked:

"So how much has Sebastian Vettel been helping you?"

"A lot," she said quietly. "I wouldn't really be where I am now without him."

The room went silent.

Because Sebastian Vettel didn't do this. He didn't mentor publicly. He didn't attach himself to drivers. He barely came back to the sport at all.

And yet here he was. For YN LN.

What people eventually learned was that Sebastian had first met her years earlier in MotoGP. Back before F1 was even a possibility for her.

YN was younger then. Faster than every expected. Angry at the world in the way prodigies often are.

Sebastian saw it immediately. Not just the talent, but the pressure. The loneliness of being exceptional too early.

He recognized because he'd lived it.

Four world championships before thirty years old. A media microscope before adulthood had even settled. An entire sport deciding who he was for him.

So when it was announced YN was driving for Mercedes, Sebastian was one of the very few people who didn't laugh.

Instead, he called her. And according to paddock gossip, the conversation lasted four hours.

The media loved painting YN as fearless, but Sebastian knew better.

He knew about the nights she called him after testing because she thought that maybe everyone was right about her. He knew about the articles she pretended not to read, He knew her hands shook before press conferences even though she walked in looking completely composed.

The was one night where the pressure finally cracked through. YN had a terrible sim session after FP2. Tiny mistakes piling up into frustration until eventually she just sat on the floor staring at the telemetry with glassy eyes.

Most people had already left. The mechanics kept pretending not to notice.

Sebastian walked in quietly, took one look at her, and sat beside her on the floor without saying anything.

Then, "You know what your problem is?"

YN sighed tiredly. "This should be good."

"You think you need to prove you belong here every second."

She didn't answer because he was right.

"They have you here for a reason," he said. "Stop driving like they're about to change their minds."

That stayed with her.

The paddock slowly started understanding what this actually meant to Sebastian too.

Because he wasn't just visiting. He was returning to a world he walked away from. And F1 had not been kind to heam near the end.

There were easier things he could've done with retirement than emotionally adopt a rookie under the brightest spotlight in motorsport.

But somehow, with YN, the sport looked softer around him again.

And fans noticed all of that. Sebastian was smiling more. Laughing during clips. Standing by pit walls with that old intensity back in his eyes.

Not because he missed driving.

But because he cared about YN LN driving.

[jadeittic]

can we get a remake of the protective!toto & driver!reader hcs pleaseee! one of my favs of the og series 🫶🫶

early toto and driver!yn has my heart :( like that's his daughter right there !!!

Toto never meant to get attached.

At first, YN was just another junior driver with terrifying pace and a tendancy to terrify engineers every time she opened the radio.

Then she became his driver.

And somehow, somewhere between her first podium and her first media scandal, Toto Wolff startef treating her like something dangerously close to family.

And it wasn't in that soft way, but in that terrifyingly protective, "I will personally ruin your career if you hurt her" kind of way.

It started with the little things. Like Toto appearing beside her during interviews whenever journalists started asking questions that crosse the lines.

YN would be sitting there after qualifying, tired and sweaty and already irritated after a rough sessin, and someone would ask:

"So do you think being a woman makes wheel-to-wheel harder?"

And before she could even answer—"No," Toto would cut in flatly.

Every head would turn. He'd stare directly at the report like he was deciding whether security cameras would catch him commiting murder.

"The only thing making her job harder," he'd continue calmly, "is people asking stupid questions instead of discussing her driving."

Toto always knew when something was wrong with YN before anyone else did.

He could tell from her posture. The way she took her gloves off. How hard she closed her visor.

One time, she stepped out of the car and said, "The rear feels unstable."

An engineer immediately replied, "The data looks fine."

YN didn't argue, nodding once. But Toto's head snapped up from across the garage.

"Then find why it doesn't feel fine."

The entire garage went silent because everyone knew that tone. That tone meant somebody was about to get verbally executed.

And sure enough, two hours later they found a suspension issue. After that, nobdy dismissed her feedback again.

Protective!Toto also meant standing between YN and angry media scrums after crashes. It meant watching her onboard footage ten times if another driver raced her too aggressively.

It meant calling the FIA at 2 AM because someone nearly forced her into a wall and they didn't catch it at the time. It meant glaring at people in the paddock if they made her uncomfortable.

The funniest part was that Toto insisted he wasn't protective. "People exaggerate" he says.

Meanwhile George once watched Toto nearly start a diplomatic incident because a cameraman shoved too close to her after qualifying.

"You're acting like her father," George told him.

Toto looked offended. "I am much calmer than a father."

Then came the media. And Toto became genuinely terrifying.

A reporter had asked if the crash from an earlier race proved YN was "too emotionally reactive under pressure."

Toto stared at him for a full five seconds. "You know what I think?"

The room went dead quiet.

"I think questioning the capability of a driver who was setting purple sectors before a mechanical instability is unbelievably disrespectful."

The reporter tried to interrupt, but Toto kept going.

"And I think some people were waiting for her to fail because it fits a nicer narrative for them."

Another silence.

Then, "YN is one of the most talented drivers I have ever seen. That will be all."

Sometimes, it was just tired of having to prove you deserved to exist there, and Toto understood that better than most people realized.

"You know what your problem is?" Toto asked one night after a grueling weekend.

YN sighed. "I'm sure you're about to tell me."

"You think surviving this sport means becoming harder."

She frowned slightly.

"But the reason you are fast, really fast, is because you feel everything."

His voice softened as he looked directly at her. "Do not lose that because other people cannot understand it."

That was the thing about Toto. He loved through protection. Through fury. Through defense. Through standing between her and the world when it became too cruel.

He'd never say "You're like my daughter."

But sometimes after brutal races, when the paddock lights dimmed and the garage finally emptied, he'd squeeze her shoulder once before leaving and say:

"Good work today, kid."

And somehow that meant more.

[jadeittic]

driver!yn and lando constantly getting caught in chaotic livestreams together

i am a firm believer that driver!yn and lando were roommates at some point send tweet

The first livestream incident happened completely by accident, which somehow made it worse.

Lando had been streaming a late-night sim session from his apartment in Monaco, headset crooked over his curls, hoodies sleeves shoved up to his elbows while chat spammed BRAKE LATER every five seconds.

"Okay, okay, relax," he groaned, laughing as he missed an apex. "I heard you the first twelve times—"

A door slammed somewhere behind him. Chat immediately noticed.

what was that

LANDO U GOT COMPANY???

whos putting up w your bs this time

Lando didn't even look up. "That's probably just—"

Then your voice echoed through the apartment. "Lando, why is there no food in this house?"

The stream exploded. Lando froze. Slowly, he turned toward the camera with the expression of a man realizing his life was over.

"Oh," he said weakly.

You appeared in the background wearing one of his oversized hoodies and fuzzy pajama pants, holding the refrigerator door open.

"There's almod milk, expired strawberries, and six Monsters. Are you surviving entirely on sponsorships?"

YN?????

THAT IS LITERALLY YN

is she wearing his hoodie i've seen that b4

LANDOYN ARE ROOMMATES CONFIRMED??

Lando muted his mic in panic. Unfortunately for him, he only muted discord.

"You were supposed to be asleep!" He whisper-yelled.

You blinked at him. "You were literally screaming."

"Because I'm streaming."

"Oh."

Then you looked directly into the camera. "Oh my God."

Chat lost its collective mind. You slowly backed away like a startled deer before disappearing offscreen.

Lando dropped his head into his hands. "I'm never streaming again."

The second incident was objectively worse because this time you knew he was live. You just didn't care.

Lando was doing an IRL stream during a race weekend in Singapore, walking through the paddock while talking nonsense to chat.

"People think drivers are super disciplined," he was saying. "But honestly most of us are just tired and dehydrated all the time."

You suddenly appeared beside him out of nowhere, sunglasses on despite it being nighttime.

"Speak for yourself. I'm disciplined as fuck."

Lando snorted. "You ate ice cream for breakfast."

You leaned toward the phone camera. "Hi chat!"

MOTHER

why are we wearing shades at this hour

LANDO LOOKS SO HAPPY AROUND HER

Lando kept walking while you stole his iced coffee without asking. "That's mine."

"Was," you corrected.

"You're unbelievable."

"C'mon, you like me."

"No one said that."

You gasped dramatically. "After everything we've been through?"

"What exactly have we been through?"

You both nearly got run over by a scooter because neither of you were paying attention.

Then there was the infamous cooking livestream, which fans still referenced years later. It started because chat dared Lando to cook an actual meal instead of ordering takout.

"Fine," he sighed dramatically. "I'll prove I can cook."

You were sitting on the kitchen counter eating shredded cheese directly from the bag. "You absolutely cannot cook."

"Excuse you, I can make pasta."

"You burned garlic bread last week."

"That was one time."

The stream only got worse from there. You criticized his knife skills. He accidentally spilled sauce everywhere. At one point, the smoke alarm started blaring.

Lando stared at the pan in betrayal. "Why is it doing that?"

"Because the oil is literally black."

"You said medium heat!"

"That is not medium heat, Lando."

The smoke alarm kept screaming. Chat count climbed higher and higher. You grabbed a dish towel and started fanning the detector while laughing so hard you nearly fell over.

Lando was doubled over against the counter. "This is so humiliating."

"You told the internet you could cook!"

"I believed in myself!"

"That was your first mistake."

The stream ended with both of you eating cereal because the pasta had become inedible.

The internet became obsessed with the two of you after that.

Not because either of you confirmed anything, but because every livestream turned into chaos.

There was the one where Lando was trying to do a serious racing Q&A and you walked behind him wearing a facemask like a ghost.

The one where he accidentally revealed your number along with your contact name that was literally just "menace."

The one where you joined his stream for "five minutes" and somehow ended up exposing half the grid.

"Who's the worst texter in Formula 1?"

You answered immediately. "Charles."

Lando nodded. "Oh, definitely."

"He responds like a divorced father."

The best livestream happened during winter break.

Lando was building lego on stream while talking to chat when you wandered in holding a tiny puppy someone had brought to a gathering earlier that day.

The second chat saw the dog, the stream descended into madness.

"Oh no," Lando murmured. "Don't show them the dog."

Too late. You sat beside him cross-legged on the floor, cradling the puppy like it was a newborn child.

"Look at her little face," you whispered.

Lando looked over then softened instantly. Like instantly.

"Can we keep her?" you asked hopefully.

"No."

"She chose me."

"You can't even keep plants alive."

"That's irrelevant.

The puppy promptly fell asleep in your lap. You gasped quietly. Lando leaned closer automatically so the camera could see.

For once, neither of you were yelling. Neither of you were arguing. You just sat there shoulder-to-shoulder while the puppy snored softly between you.

Until Lando ruined it by reading a donation aloud. "Blink twice if you want to keep the puppy."

You immediately blinked aggressively at the camera.

Lando shoved you away while laughing so hard he nearly knocked over the lego set.

[jadeittic]

ever since the old version of driver!yn i like to think she was so happy, so smiley in her motogp era bcs that is her dream and she's living it. even thought there are criticism left and right you can see the difference in her living her dream and living her job (f1). even after the crash it won't change the fact that motogp is her first love and it always will be

oh totally. people noticed it long before she did. how i MOURN motogp!yn before she left :(

Back in MotoGP, she smiled with her entire body.

It lived in the way she ran through paddocks with her helmet tucked under her arm, hair still damp from a shower.

In the way she laughed too loudly during interviews and nearly fell off scooters because she kept turning around to talk to her mechanics.

It made her look alive. People used to joke that nobody could ever tell whether she finished P1 or P15 because she walked into every garage with the exact same bright-eyed energy.

She loved the bikes too much to pretend otherwise. She loved the violence of it. The closeness. The danger.

She loved leaning so far into corners her knee sliders screamed against the asphalt. She loved the ache in her wrists after long races. She loved the chaos on the grid, the elbows, the insanity of riders throwing themselves with absolutely no regard for survival.

And God, she loved the freedom.

There was a video fans still reposted years later. Seventeen year old YN after her first podium, helmet off, cheeks flushed red with adrenaline while her team screamed around her.

A reporter had shoved a microphone in her face and asked, "Did you expect this result today?"

And she laughed. Big, breathless, disbelieving laughter.

"Are you kidding?" she said. "I got paid to ride motorcycles today. This is literally the best day of my life."

That clip haunted people now.

Because when they looked at current YN, the Formula One driver standing beneath garage lights in perfectly pressed Mercedes uniforms, they strugged to find traces of that girl.

She still smiled, just differently. Like she'd learned cameras could turn happiness into weakness if she wasn't careful.

The transition to F1 changed everything. At first, everyone called it history. People treated her like a phenomenon before they treated her like a person.

And at first, she tried to love it. She really did.

There were moments she genuinely enjoyed. The absurd precision of F1 strategy, the speed through high-speed corners that made her vision blur.

She liked fighting wheel-to-wheel. She liked proving people wrong.

But F1 never felt like home to her. It felt like work.

A job she happened to be very good at. And maybe nobody would've noticed if there hadn't been old footage everywhere online to compare it to.

Fans began making compilations without meaning to be cruel.

MotoGP!YN practically vibrating with excitement before races and F1!YN sitting silently at the front of the grid staring into space.

Old interviews where she talked over reporters because she was too excited versus newer press conferences where every answer sounded rehearsed down to the syllable.

Even her celebrations changed. Back then, victories looked explosive. She hugged everyone within reach. She climbed fences. She screamed into radios.

Now, after wins, she mostly just exhaled. Like relief mattered more than joy.

There was a photo Lewis once found while scrolling online during a race weekend. It was old. Years old.

YN was maybe nineteen. Still in her MotoGP leathers, helmet balanced on her knee while sitting on the pit wall after a night race.

She was exhausted, sweaty, and grinning so hard her eyes disappeared. Lewis stared at it for a long time, then he looked up.

Across the garage, current YN sat with engineers around screens. She was professional. Composed. Too tired for someone her age.

He looked back at the picture again. The difference hit him so hard it physically hurt.

Later that evening, he found her alone outside the paddock.

"Do you ever miss it?" he asked quietly.

YN didn't pretend not to understand. MotoGP was the one topic she never lied about.

"Every day."

"Then why does it sound like you're talking about someone's who not there anymore?"

YN went still. Because maybe that was exactly what it felt like.

"Sometimes I think everyone preferred after F1 happened."

Lewis frowned immediately. "That's not true."

It was true. MotoGP fans loved her, but F1 fans evaluated her. Every race felt like an exam she had to pass to justify being there.

In MotoGP, recklessness had made her exciting. In F1, mistakes became proof people were right about her all along.

She missed being allowed to be messy. She missed joy without consequences. She missed the bikes so badly it physically ached sometimes.

And people noticed that. The difference in her smile. The exhaustion. The way old riders still hugged her like family whenever she visited MotoGP paddocks.

The reason she always lingered near the bikes during crossover events. The reason her eyes still followed motorcyles instinctively whenever they passed.

F1 had made her famous. But MotoGP had made her happy.

And no championship, no headline, no amount of success could erase that first love.

[jadeittic]

I have an idea for driver y/n!

She makes an appearance in a music video Harry styles recently released or or she goes to the met gala and doesn’t tell anyone she’s gone and their reaction is priceless.

GOLDEN — driver!yn who shows up in harry styles's music video

— believe it or not, YN LN has many friends that are in the music industry. her bestest and strongest being harry. (also this js made my heart happy because i truly js love harry styles)

harrystyles

liked by bellahadid, florencepugh, and 8,293,273 others

harrystyles GOLDEN. IN AMALFI. TONIGHT.

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username now why did mercedes like this post within 1 minute of it going up

username THE VINTAGE VIBE??? THE SHIRT??? THE FACE???

username no way is that an alfa romeo

username i'm reaching but HEAR ME OUT. this is so yn ln coded

username the framing... the color grading... oh this is gonna develop my frontal lobe

The call came three days after the Monaco Grand Prix. YN was in the simulator room, half out of her race suit, when her phone buzzed across the desk with a contact photo of curls.

You answered without looking up from the track glowing on the monitors.

"Please tell me you're not asking me out for a drink. I'm on a 'no alcohol' diet."

"I have a better idea," Harry said immediately.

That tone already meant trouble.

"That sentence has always ruined my life. You know that."

"I'm rereleasing Golden."

"That song came out years ago."

Harry ignored her. "I want you in the video."

In the background she could hear gulls, wind, distant traffic. He was already somewhere warm and coastal while she was trapped inside a Mercedes building under harsh lights.

"You want me," she said slowly, "YN LN, who's currently obligated to avoid unnecessary risk—"

"Actually, it's creative risk," Harry corrected.

"—to appear in a music video."

"Yes."

"No."

"C'mon, you haven't heard the concept."

"Harry, I don't need to hear the concept."

"You're gonna drive me around the Amalfi Coast in a vintage Alfa Romeo."

Pause. "...What year?"

She could feel Harry grin through the phone. "1967."

YN sat up immediately. "You are one manipulative son of a bitch."

By the end of the call, she had somehow agreed.

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yourinstagram remembered my ig password

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username aint this the amalfi cliff from harry styles's teaser???

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Italy in late summer looked unreal. Everything glowed gold. The cliffs, the water, the tiny villages stacked into the hillsides.

There was production crew was everywhere the moment she arrived. Stylists everywhere, cables acorss the pavement, camera operators hanging out moving vans, assistants yelling in italian.

And parked near the edge of the road was the Alfa Romeo.

YN walk straight past the producers and crouched beside the car instead.

"Oh, you are gone." Harry said from behind her.

He was dressed entire in soft cream and gold tones, sunglasses tucked into his shirt collar, curls destoryed by the sea wind already.

"She's beautiful," YN muttered, staring at the Alfa.

Harry put a hand dramatically over his heart. "Thank you."

"I was talking about the car."

"Cruel."

Filming started at sunset. The director wanted authenticity.

Which became a problem almost immediately because authenticity for YN meant driving someone who had spent her entire life controlling vehicles at terrifying speeds.

The first take lasted maybe forty seconds before the camera car behind them started panicking over the radio.

"She's too fast!"

YN blinked. "I'm doing sixty."

"That's sixty on a cliff road!"

Harry, meanwhile, looked delighted. "This is the best day of my life."

By the third take, Harry had stopped acting entirely. Harry was laughing helplessly every time she downshifted. Arguments over music. Harry singing dramatticaly outside the window while the locals stared. And the way she checked his seatbelt automatically before pulling onto the road.

At one point the director yelled, "Harry! Look at the camera!"

"How am I supposed to that when this is happening?"

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username I OPENED IG FOR FIVE SECONDS

username this is not a drill this is not a drill

username IM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS???

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username i dont care abt pop music or racing but i care abt THIS apparently

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username came for a music video and left w a personality crisis

harrystyles posted on his instagram story!

caption: Same time tomorrow? yourinstagram