AND AWAY WE GO ⭑ enhypen f1 driver headcanons
WHERE sim jaeyun just so happens to be the driver's world champion ⭑enha's 심재윤 x reader, wc: 4.0k, f1!au, fluff, very light angst content warnings: lots of mentions of homesickness, probably some grammar/spelling errors whoops
author's note: i have a confession to make.. i was rereading my enha college!hcs and i wasn't really happy with them i fear so in the meantime i have decided to post my f1 hcs while i reformat everything else huhu anywyas !! i cannot describe to you that absolute FLOW STATE i was in typing this all out. laying stomach down on my bed typing away at one in the morning, thinking about f1 driver!jake, im not even joking i was kicking my feet and giggling to myself. me being my own target audience once again JSDJSDJ but i hope you enjoy and happy reading <33
other members: jay
⠀⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏ ⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏⠀ ͏· · ୨୧ · ·
formula one driver!jake moved from his hometown of brisbane to europe at only fourteen years old to start racing in the feeder series. a decision that sounded exciting on paper but was honestly the most terrifying thing formula one driver!jake has ever done in his entire life.
there were nights where formula one driver!jake questioned whether he was making the right decision, especially during those early years where nothing felt stable yet. he often jokes about it in interviews teasing his parents on why they let him move to another continent all on his own.
but looking back on it now, formula one driver!jake wouldn’t change it for anything. as difficult and lonely as those first few years were, they shaped him into the person he is both on and off the track.
there’s a quiet kind of pride formula one driver!jake carries whenever he thinks about how far he’s come. from being a homesick fourteen-year-old all alone in europe to standing on the formula one grid. it’s the kind of accomplishment that never fully sinks in for him, even at his grown age.
ironically, formula one driver!jake never originally dreamed of becoming a racing driver at all. if anything, he thought he’d grow up to become an engineer someday because building things fascinated him far more than anything else.
as a kid, formula one driver!jake spent hours racing remote control cars with other children around his neighborhood in brisbane, constantly taking apart his rc cars afterwards just to figure out how to make them faster. formula one driver!jake loved the process of tinkering almost as much as the racing itself, always wanting to understand why something worked the way it did.
the thing that changed everything for him was actually a complete coincidence. one afternoon, his older brother had plans to go go-karting with friends, and formula one driver!jake wasn’t even supposed to come along until their parents insisted his brother take him too. it’s the kind of story formula one driver!jake laughs about now because nobody in his family could’ve possibly known that one last-minute decision would end up changing the course of his entire life.
because the second formula one driver!jake got into a kart for the first time, something immediately clicked into place for him. what started as curiosity quickly turned into obsession, and that obsession only grew stronger after attending the melbourne grand prix with his family not long after.
formula one driver!jake still talks about remembering the sound most vividly—the first time he heard the roar of the engines echoing through the circuit, loud enough to shake through his chest. and standing there in the grandstands, watching the cars fly past for the first time, formula one driver!jake realised that building cars was no longer enough for him anymore.
formula one driver!jake first caught the attention of a senior member of the mercedes team during his time racing in british f4. he didn’t even win the championship that year, but the thing that stood out about him was how quickly he improved. race after race, he adapted faster than everyone expected him to which earned formula one driver!jake a spot in the mercedes development program.
formula one driver!jake was defintely a prema kid through and through. all eyes were on him with everyone expecting that he would be the next driver to graduate from the formula 2 series and make his way to the grid. formula one driver!jake did end up winning the f2 championship in his rookie season which basically cemented what everyone had already suspected for years: that he was destined for formula one.
honestly formula one driver!jake's career followed the classic mercedes driver pipeline: junior academy driver, then a stint at williams, before eventually making his way onto mercedes itself.
despite growing up in brisbane, formula one driver!jake made the decision early on in his career to compete under the south korean flag rather than the australian one. it confused a lot of people at first—especially because he was often labelled as "the aussie kid" during his time competing in the feeder series—but for formula one driver!jake, the choice had never really been about rejecting where he grew up. if anything, it was about embracing a part of himself that he felt people often overlooked.
formula one driver!jake has talked about what it felt like growing up as a diasporic asian kid in motorsport spaces. there weren’t many people around him who looked like him, and there definitely weren’t many drivers at the highest level that he could point to and say, “that could be me someday.” choosing to race under the south korean flag was formula one driver!jake's way of becoming that representation for someone else.
more than anything, formula one driver!jake wanted younger asian kids to see someone like them succeeding on one of the biggest stages in the world. he wanted them to feel like they didn’t have to separate parts of themselves to belong somewhere. even now, years into formula one driver!jake's career, he still says one of the most meaningful things to him is hearing from fans who tell him they started karting or got into motorsport because they saw him racing. because at the end of the day, that was always the point.
formula one driver!jake is fast—i know that seems like stating the obvious since we're talking about formula one drivers but let me cook! formula one driver!jake is the kind of fast that catches people off guard even when they’re expecting it.
there’s something incredibly sharp about the way formula one driver!jake drives with every movement feeling immediate and precise. one of the reasons why engineers love working with him so much is because formula one driver!jake rarely hesitates once he commits to something on track.
formula one driver!jake's reflexes are honestly considered some of the best on the grid, which naturally makes his race starts one of his biggest strengths. formula one driver!jake is notoriously difficult to defend against in the opening seconds of a race because he reacts almost instantly to the lights going out.
if you searched “jake sim best moments” on youtube, half the compilation would probably just be clips of him launching off the start and overtaking two or three cars before the first corner even approaches. commentators always talks about how aggressive yet controlled he can be during starts, because somehow formula one driver!jake always seems to know exactly where the gap will open before everyone else does.
honestly, that’s what makes formula one driver!jake terrifying whenever he qualifies on pole. because if he already has clean air ahead of him, most drivers know there’s a very real chance they won’t see the back of his car again for a good portion of the race. once he gets into rhythm at the front, formula one driver!jake becomes incredibly difficult to pressure.
even now, years into formula one driver!jake's career, that little kid who loved taking things apart and figuring out how they worked never really disappeared. one of the reasons engineers love working with formula one driver!jake so much is because he’s genuinely obsessed with understanding every part of the car beyond just driving it quickly.
formula one driver!jake spends an insane amount of time with his mechanics and engineers in the garage, constantly asking questions, studying data, and wanting to know exactly why the car behaves the way it does in certain conditions.
while some drivers prefer to leave the technical side to the team, formula one driver!jake throws himself fully into it. he’ll spend countless hours running simulations, staying late after sessions to go over the data, and sitting with engineers discussing setup changes in ridiculous detail.
because to formula one driver!jake, finding speed has always been just as much about understanding the machine as it is driving it. there’s almost something obsessive about the way formula one driver!jake approaches it sometimes—but it’s also the exact reason why mercedes trusts his feedback as much as they do.
bonus time! despite being one of the fastest drivers on the grid, formula one driver!jake is unsurprisingly still an enormous nerd at heart, which becomes painfully obvious every time grill the grid rolls around at the start of the season. while most drivers treat it like a funny little media obligation, formula one driver!jake approaches it with an almost concerning level of competitiveness because he genuinely wants to win. he rewatches old races, remembers the most random statistics imaginable, and gets weirdly locked in over questions nobody else takes seriously.
okay back to business. formula one driver!jake is a media darling DOWN. and honestly, the fans eat him up every single time. there’s something about the contrast between who he is on track versus who he is off it that people find endlessly charming. because while formula one driver!jake is ruthless once the visor comes down, the second he steps out of the car, he’s all soft smiles, awkward laughter, and boyish charm that somehow makes even the most rehearsed media segments feel natural.
the nickname “mercedes’ golden boy” started as something the media threw around jokingly, but it stuck almost immediately because it fit him so perfectly. formula one driver!jake has that polished image mercedes loves: talented, composed, and incredibly marketable. but still approachable enough that fans feel attached to him.
and honestly, it also helps that formula one driver!jake is ridiculously good-looking (wbk dafuq). people online are constantly talking about his sharp features, jet black hair, and ridiculously chiselled jaw like he walked straight out of a campaign shoot instead of the paddock.
interviewers enjoy talking to formula one driver!jake because he always knows exactly what to say without sounding robotic, sponsors adore him because he photographs ridiculously well, and fans love him because despite all the glamour surrounding him, formula one driver!jake still comes across as genuinely sincere.
formula one driver!jake is naturally expressive in a way that makes him impossible not to watch. whether it’s the little grin he gives after stealing pole position, the way he instinctively reaches to hug his mechanics after a win, or the clips of him laughing uncontrollably during team content, people just swoon every single time.
while formula one driver!jake pretends the attention doesn’t affect him much, everyone in the paddock knows he secretly enjoys being loved by the crowd. not in an arrogant way—more like he still hasn’t fully gotten used to the fact that people care about him that much. underneath all the polished interviews and perfectly curated media appearances, there’s still a part of formula one driver!jake that feels like the same fourteen-year-old kid from brisbane who boarded a plane to europe with nothing but talent and the desperate hope that he was good enough to make it.
maybe that’s why people love formula one driver!jake as much as they do. because beneath the “mercedes golden boy” image and all the glamour that surrounds him, there’s still something incredibly human about the way he carries himself. every achievement feels earned and there's this quiet sense that formula one driver!jake is grateful to be there.
nothing captures that feeling more than the moment formula one driver!jake finally wins his first world drivers’ championship. because suddenly every story people had ever told about him comes full circle all at once. the homesick fourteen-year-old who left brisbane alone, the prema prodigy everyone pinned their expectations on, the williams junior trying to prove he deserved a seat at the front of the grid—they all feel like different versions of the same kid standing on top of the world.
the broadcasts replay old clips of formula one driver!jake karting as a child while commentators talk about how far he’s come, the cameras keep cutting to his parents crying in the garage, and somewhere over the radio his engineers and toto are practically screaming with excitement. but formula one driver!jake himself almost looks overwhelmed climbing out of the car, like even after everything he’s accomplished, part of him still can’t fully believe this is real.
formula one driver!jake never carried himself like someone who thought success was guaranteed. every step of his career felt like something he had to earn. and maybe that’s why formula one driver!jake's first championship becomes such an emotional moment not just for his fans, but for the paddock as a whole. it doesn’t feel like watching a driver simply win a title—it feels like watching years of sacrifice finally paying off.
from leaving home at fourteen, to going through the mercedes journey, to becoming one of the most beloved drivers on the grid, formula one driver!jake's career was built on proving that he belonged in spaces people like him weren’t always expected to occupy. and in the end, maybe that’s what defines him most—not the trophies or the talent, but the fact that somewhere along the way, that kid from brisbane really did make it.
⠀⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏ ⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏⠀ ͏· · ୨୧ · ·
a little bonus scene because i totally forgot about the "x reader" part until i was editing all of the hcs:
The music in the ballroom is too loud by the time you finally sit down.
The bass pulses beneath the floor hard enough to vibrate through your heels while groups of former classmates crowd around the open bar, laughing too loudly over champagne and stories that sound rehearsed from years of retelling. The entire reunion feels strange in a way you can’t fully explain. Familiar, but distant. Like walking back into a life that stopped belonging to you a long time ago.
You regret coming a little already. Not because it’s awful, but because being back at your old boarding school feels oddly disorienting. Like stepping into a version of yourself you barely recognize anymore.
Across the ballroom, your old friends are screaming lyrics to some early 2000s throwback near the dance floor, arms linked together while someone records blurry videos for Instagram stories nobody will watch twice. Meanwhile, you stay tucked away at your table near the edge of the room, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone while nursing a drink and finally giving your feet a break.
You’re halfway through replying to your roommate’s text when a shadow falls over the table.
“Is this seat taken?”
The voice catches you off guard enough that you glance up immediately.
And—Oh.
Jake Sim.
For a second, your brain genuinely struggles to process it. Because the last time you’d seen him properly, the two of you were seventeen years old and buried somewhere in finals season. He’d walked into class late with messy hair, glasses slipping low on his nose, and his school blazer hanging off one shoulder while half asleep from another flight back from... Honestly who knows?
Now he’s standing in front of you in a black suit that probably costs more than your university tuition ever did, somehow broader now, sharper around the edges, stupidly handsome in the kind of effortless way magazines love.
And yet somehow still unmistakably Jake.
You blink once. Twice.
Jake’s expression shifts almost immediately, a sheepish smile tugging at his mouth like he thinks he interrupted something important.
“Oh—sorry,” he says quickly, glancing toward the empty chair. “I thought—”
“No,” you interrupt a little too fast, your eyes widen slightly.
Heat crawls up your neck almost instantly. “No, it’s free,” you clarify, your voice much softer as you gesture toward the seat beside you. “My friends are just over there.”
You motion vaguely toward the dance floor where your classmates are collectively losing their minds. Jake follows your gaze before laughing quietly under his breath and sliding into the chair beside you.
Up close, he smells faintly like expensive cologne and something clean. You hate that you notice.
“Y/N, right?” he asks after a moment.
Your eyebrows lift before you can stop them. It’s not like you and Jake were strangers back in school exactly. Your circles overlapped enough that you saw each other constantly, but most of your memories of him involve watching him leave. Flying out for race weekends across Europe while everyone else stayed behind stressing over assignments and university applications.
Karting Championships. F3. F2. Always gone.
Yet somehow still ending every semester on the honour roll like some academically gifted cryptid nobody could fully explain.
“Yeah,” you answer, unable to hide your surprise completely. “Nice seeing you, Jake.”
This time, he looks slightly caught off guard.
You notice the tiny shift in his expression and laugh softly. “What?” you ask.
Jake rubs the back of his neck almost shyly. “I just didn’t think you’d remember me.”
You stare at him flatly for a second.
“Jake,” you deadpan. “You’re literally the reigning world champion.”
That makes him laugh properly. Not the polished, media-trained laugh you’ve seen clipped into interview edits online, but something quieter than that. Warmer, even. His head ducks slightly like he’s embarrassed by the reminder.
“Right,” he mutters. “Fair point.”
And suddenly there’s that strange disconnect again. Because this is Jake Sim. World champion. Mercedes driver. The face plastered across billboards and magazine covers and sports edits all over social media. Millions of people know his name now. But sitting beside you, he still somehow feels familiar. Like the same quiet boy who used to sit near the back of class with dark circles beneath his eyes after flying back from race weekends halfway across the world.
“You look different,” you admit before thinking too hard about it.
Jake glances over immediately. “Different good or different bad?”
You pretend to consider it carefully, “Different expensive.”
His laugh comes out embarrassingly loud this time, drawing a few glances from nearby tables.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant to be.”
A comfortable silence settles between you after that. Not awkward, just easy.
You take another sip from your drink before glancing toward him again. “So,” you say carefully, “how does it feel being back here after all these years?”
Jake leans back slightly in his chair, eyes drifting around the ballroom.
“Honestly?” he admits quietly. “Weird.”
You hum softly in agreement.
“I spent most of high school leaving this place.”
“You were barely here.”
“I know.” His smile turns sheepish again. “Sometimes I think half the teachers forgot I existed.”
You snort softly. “Mrs. Bennett definitely didn’t.”
Jake’s eyes widen immediately.
“What? Why?”
“Look at him," you laugh under your breath, mimicking your former teacher dramatically, "Racing across Europe and still getting higher scores than all of you.”
Jake physically groans, dropping his head into one hand.
“Oh my god.”
You laugh quietly into your glass, and for the first time that night, you realize you’re not checking your phone anymore. The conversation just… flows, easy in a way you didn’t expect. Maybe because neither of you really knew each other well enough back then to have expectations now. There’s no pressure to recreate an old friendship or pretend you were closer than you actually were. It’s just two people talking, catching up, and existing beside each other without forcing it into something nostalgic.
“So what have you been up to?” Jake asks after a while, turning slightly toward you in his chair. “Besides surviving this reunion.”
You laugh softly. “Barely surviving, actually.”
His mouth tugs upward.
“I’m graduating uni this year,” you explain. “Assuming my thesis doesn’t kill me first.”
Jake’s eyebrows lift immediately, “Seriously?”
You nod. “And hopefully graduate studies after that.”
“Oh my god, congratulations! That’s insane,” he says genuinely, leaning forward slightly now. “What are you studying again?”
The fact that he seems sincerely interested in what you've been up to sends warmth curling unexpectedly through your chest. So you tell him. About your field. Your research. The professors you love and the ones you avoid. The late-night study sessions that somehow turn into existential crises at three in the morning. The possibility of moving abroad eventually if further studies work out.
And Jake listens, actually listens. Not politely waiting for his turn to speak, not distracted by his phone or scanning the room over your shoulder. His attention stays entirely on you, occasionally asking questions that catch you off guard because they’re thoughtful. Curious in a way that feels genuine.
His chin rests lightly against his hand while you ramble, eyes fixed on you so steadily it almost makes you self-conscious. “Wow,” he murmurs once you finally finish. “You’re really passionate about it, huh?”
You smile a little into your drink. “I guess I am.”
“I think it’s cool,” he says quietly. “The way you talk about it.”
Something about the sincerity in his voice suddenly makes you very aware of how close he’s sitting. You clear your throat lightly before nudging the conversation away from yourself.
“What about you?” you ask. “Besides casually becoming one of the most famous athletes on the planet.”
His ears immediately start turning pink.
He shakes his head, smiling to himself before finally answering properly. “I don’t know,” he admits after a moment. “I just really love it.”
The way he says it makes your teasing fade almost immediately. Because suddenly he isn’t Mercedes’ golden boy or the face constantly splashed across sports headlines.
He’s just Jake, and for the first time that night, you see how much he means it.
“There’s honestly nothing else like it,” he continues softly, eyes drifting somewhere distant for a moment. “The speed. The adrenaline. The pressure.” A quiet smile pulls at his mouth. “Being in the car just makes sense to me.”
You watch him carefully as he speaks, noticing the way he relaxes the more he talks about racing. Like this is the version of himself he understands best.
“I can only imagine,” you say quietly.
Jake glances toward you again,“You’ve never been to a race before?”
You shake your head. “No, actually.”
His eyebrows lift in genuine surprise.
“I mean,” you admit sheepishly, “I’ve watched compilations on YouTube. But that’s about it.”
Jake stares at you for a second like he genuinely can’t process the information, “You’ve never watched a full race?” he asks again, leaning forward slightly.
“Listen,” you laugh softly. “Not all of us can burn a few hundred bucks to watch fast cars.”
That earns another laugh from him, before something shifts slightly in his expression. A tiny spark behind his eyes that you notice immediately.
“Silverstone is coming up soon,” he says after a moment, trying—and failing—to sound casual.
You blink slowly. “Yeah, I heard,” you reply with a small smile. “Good luck.”
Jake inhales quietly. And despite the dim lighting spilling across the ballroom, you still catch the faint pink creeping across the tips of his ears beneath his dark hair.
“I…” He pauses briefly before looking at you again.
Suddenly shy in a way that feels strangely endearing for someone photographed in front of millions of people every weekend.
“I’d really love to invite you to watch.”
Now it's you who feels that familiar warmth on the tips of your ears as your breath catches slightly.
Jake scratches the back of his neck again as a familiar flush paints his cheeks, before adding quickly, “I promise I’ll do my best to make it worthwhile.”
⠀⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏ ⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏⠀ ͏· · ୨୧ · ·
please do not repost, reupload, or translate my work anywhere else on the internet. i also do not approve uploading my work on any ai site. salamuch <33
© ikeuverse, 2026
