Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Hey !!!! I love your stories. Could you please write about a rookie reader but in times of like hamilton or seb or maybe around the mark webber time ? And how she is their grid kid and then Max and Carlos and charles are her grid kids. Thank you so much
"the grid's kid⌠until she accidentally became the grid's mom."
Pairing: Platonic!F1 Grid Ă formerRookie!Reader
Genre: Found Family ⢠Humor ⢠Fluff ⢠Slice of Life ⢠"Everyone accidentally adopted each other"
Warnings: Feelings. Lots of paddock chaos. Mild language. Drivers forgetting they aren't actually related.
A/N: really sorry i haven't posted in a while, 've kinda been caught up handling my bio class
There are rookies.
There are young rookies.
And then...
...there was Y/N.
Nobody remembered when the nickname started.
Some claimed it was Mark.
Lewis insisted it was Jenson.
Fernando swore it had been Sebastian.
Kimi claimed he never gave anyone nicknames.
Nobody believed Kimi.
What everyone did remember was the first day the seventeen-year-old rookie wandered into the paddock looking completely overwhelmed.
Helmet in one hand.
Backpack slung over one shoulder.
Hair still damp because she'd apparently overslept.
She stopped in the middle of the paddock, looked at all the motorhomes, then quietly muttered to herself,
"...they all look the same."
She immediately walked into the wrong hospitality unit.
Ferrari.
She didn't drive for Ferrari.
Five minutes later she emerged with a croissant.
"...wrong building."
"How did you leave with food?"
"They were really nice."
She became the unofficial little sister before she'd even driven a race.
Not because she was the youngest.
Because she had the uncanny ability to make every veteran simultaneously sigh and smile.
She'd forget where she'd left her gloves.
Someone would find them.
She'd leave her water bottle on top of a pit wall.
Someone would return it.
She'd wander into another team's garage because she was following the smell of coffee.
Someone would gently point her back toward her own.
It became routine.
Mark Webber caught her staring at a setup sheet upside down.
"You know that's upside down, right?"
"..."
"...I was testing you."
"Mhm."
"You passed."
Lewis found her asleep on a stack of spare tires between practice sessions.
Not hiding.
Actually asleep.
Her helmet had somehow become a pillow.
Lewis stood there for a second.
"...comfortable?"
She opened one eye.
"It was until you woke me up."
Sebastian quickly discovered that Y/N collected random things.
Bottle caps.
Old paddock passes.
Interesting rocks from different circuits.
Broken wheel nuts.
Tiny flags.
One particularly shiny bolt.
"Why?"
"They're neat."
"You know..."
He smiled.
"I used to collect things too."
That was how Sebastian accidentally became the person everyone expected to solve her problems.
Couldn't find her passport?
"Ask Seb."
Need help carrying luggage?
"Seb."
Someone stole her fries?
"...actually, that's probably Fernando."
Fernando denied everything.
He absolutely had stolen one fry.
Only one.
Jenson once walked into the driver's briefing to discover Y/N trying to braid Mark hair.
Mark had simply accepted his fate.
"She said it'd make me faster."
"It won't."
"We don't know that."
Even the mechanics adored her.
Mostly because she'd spend hours sitting beside them asking questions.
"What does that do?"
"This?"
"No, that."
"What about this?"
"Why?"
"Can I hold it?"
"No."
"...okay."
Five seconds later.
"...can I hold it now?"
The engineers quickly learned that if Y/N went suspiciously quiet...
...she was definitely doing something.
One afternoon an entire garage went into panic mode because nobody could find the rookie.
They searched everywhere.
Garage.
Hospitality.
Medical center.
Media pen.
Nothing.
Eventually someone looked underneath the strategy table.
There she was.
Curled up with a notebook.
Writing.
"What are you doing?"
"I had an idea."
"For the car?"
"...no."
"What then?"
"A dinosaur comic."
"..."
"...fair enough."
Years passed.
Not all at once.
Little moments.
Tiny traditions.
The kind that quietly become memories.
Lewis always saved her a seat during driver's parade.
Sebastian always remembered her birthday.
Mark still stole half her fries.
Fernando still denied stealing them.
Jenson still called her "kid."
Even after she'd started beating some of them on Sundays.
Especially then.
When retirement announcements started happening...
...the paddock felt different.
Mark left first.
The farewell hugs lasted forever.
"You'll be alright."
"You sound like I'm twelve."
"You'll always be twelve."
Then more changes came.
New faces.
New helmets.
New rookies.
The paddock kept moving.
It always did.
The first one she really noticed was Max.
Young.
Ridiculously quick.
Trying very hard to look intimidating.
He wandered into the paddock with that familiar expression she'd worn years earlier.
Everything is huge.
Everyone knows everyone.
Please don't let me embarrass myself.
Y/N smiled.
"...hey."
He looked up.
"Ohâhi."
"Nervous?"
"No."
"..."
"...yes."
She laughed.
"Come on."
"Where?"
"Breakfast."
"I already ate."
"Second breakfast."
That became tradition.
Carlos arrived.
Then Pierre.
Then Alex.
Then Charles.
One by one.
The next generation.
She never meant to become the responsible one.
It just...
...happened.
Charles once spent twenty minutes looking for his phone.
Y/N silently reached into his backpack.
Handed it over.
"You knew?"
"You've done this six times."
Carlos forgot his accreditation.
Twice.
She kept spare lanyards in her bag.
"For emergencies."
"I'm the emergency, aren't I?"
"...yes."
Alex texted her from the wrong hotel.
"I'm lost."
"How are you lost?"
"I took the wrong shuttle."
"...stay where you are."
Pierre showed up to media day with mismatched shoes.
Nobody noticed.
Except Y/N.
She quietly handed him the matching one she'd rescued from the hospitality lounge earlier that morning.
"...how?"
"I know you."
Then came George.
Organized.
Prepared.
Checklist for everything.
He'd arrive with folders.
Spreadsheets.
Color-coded notes.
Y/N looked at him once.
"You're carrying too much."
"I have backups."
"You have backups for your backups."
"...yes."
She grinned.
"You'll fit right in."
Lando was different.
He had endless energy.
She had endless patience.
Mostly.
He'd burst into her driver's room.
"Come look at this meme."
"I'm in a debrief."
"It'll take two seconds."
"It never takes two seconds."
"..."
"It took six."
Oscar joined later.
Quiet.
Observant.
The first week he simply watched.
By the second week he asked,
"...why does everyone ask you where things are?"
She blinked.
"...I don't know."
Lewis walked by.
"Y/N?"
"Yeah?"
"Have you seen my sunglasses?"
She pointed toward his race bag without looking up.
"They're in the front pocket."
Lewis checked.
"...how did you know?"
"I packed your autograph cards yesterday."
Oscar just stared.
"Oh."
"I think..."
"...you're the paddock's older sister."
The realization spread.
Slowly.
Then all at once.
Lewis still called her "kid."
Sebastian still texted to ask if she was eating enough.
Mark still sent photos from cycling trips.
But now...
Max was asking if she'd seen his charger.
Charles wanted advice before difficult interviews.
Carlos called to vent after rough weekends.
George asked her to proofread charity speeches.
Lando appeared whenever he needed someone to laugh with.
The grid's kid had quietly become the person everyone leaned on.
Not because she was the oldest.
Not because she had the most championships.
But because someone had once done the same for her.
One generation had taught her that Formula 1 wasn't just about racing.
It was about looking after the people beside you.
So she passed it on.
The way Lewis had.
The way Seb had.
The way Mark had grumbled while handing her the last fry anyway.
And every now and then, when the newer drivers forgot their passes, misplaced their phones, or wandered into the wrong hospitality unit...
She'd smile.
Hand them what they were looking for.
And think to herselfâ
"Yeah... I get it now."
Because the paddock always had room for one more kid.
And if they were lucky...
One day that kid would grow up and take care of the next one
could you maybe write something about like a hyperactive toddler/rookie (maybe a drivers niece or little sister) who never seems to be tired out and like gives the drivers a hard time but at the same time is like annoying as glitter sometimes but also lost like a baby cub and unfocused (like a bit of an ADHD character)
Love your writing đ
đď¸ they said "keep an eye on her" (the grid failed immediately)
Pairing: Platonic! F1 Grid Ă youngkid!Reader
Genre: Comedy ⢠Found Family ⢠Fluff ⢠Slice of Life ⢠Toddler Chaos ⢠Paddock Shenanigans
Warnings: Excessive cuteness, sleep-deprived adults, sticky hands, zero impulse control, drivers getting outsmarted by a four-year-old, one (1) exhausted race engineer, glitter
Everyone assumed she'd get tired eventually.
Everyone.
Including her uncle.
Including the entire Mercedes garage.
Including the security guards.
Including Toto Wolff, who had looked everyone dead in the eye at 8:00 a.m. and confidently declared,
"She woke up at six. She'll probably nap before qualifying."
He was wrong.
Spectacularly wrong.
By 8:17 a.m., she'd already:
climbed onto three toolboxes,
stolen someone's radio headset,
asked Lewis if race cars could fly,
accidentally walked into Ferrari,
forgotten why she was there,
discovered a butterfly,
followed the butterfly,
forgotten the butterfly,
found a puddle,
and announced she wanted pancakes.
She had not eaten breakfast.
She had simply remembered pancakes existed.
Lewis found her sitting underneath George's car.
Not trapped.
Just...
sitting.
Looking at a bolt.
"Whatcha doing?"
She looked up.
"I'm thinkin'."
"About what?"
"...I forgot."
Lewis nodded.
"Fair enough."
The entire grid had accidentally developed a shift schedule.
Nobody admitted it.
Everyone participated.
9:00 a.m.
Lando's turn.
Lando had been told to watch her "for five minutes."
Four minutes later he couldn't find her.
Panic.
Actual panic.
He searched McLaren.
He searched Mercedes.
He searched catering.
He checked underneath tables.
He checked bathrooms.
He nearly called security.
Oscar quietly pointed upward.
Y/N was sitting on top of six stacked tire blankets.
Somehow.
No one knew how she'd gotten there.
She waved.
"Hi Lan."
"...how did you get up there?"
"I climbed."
"Using what?"
She looked around.
"...forgot."
Oscar inherited babysitting duty.
Which mostly consisted of following ten feet behind her while she wandered with complete confidence.
She would march in one direction.
Stop suddenly.
Spin.
Walk another way.
Become fascinated by absolutely nothing.
Then announce,
"I was goin' somewhere."
Oscar asked,
"Where?"
"I dunno."
"...okay."
Five minutes later she proudly arrived at the exact place she'd started.
Mission accomplished.
Charles made the mistake of showing her stickers.
Now she wanted stickers.
All stickers.
Every sticker.
She decorated:
her shirt,
his sleeve,
Carlos's water bottle,
Fred's clipboard,
a camera tripod,
and one completely innocent mechanic.
Fred didn't notice until media day.
Carlos arrived carrying glitter.
Which, in hindsight, was a terrible decision.
"Want to do arts and crafts?"
Every adult within hearing distance shouted,
"NO."
Too late.
There was glitter.
Everywhere.
On the tables.
On the floor.
On Lewis.
Inside a helmet.
On Christian's shoes.
Nobody understood the physics involved.
Glitter had somehow reached the Aston Martin garage.
Fernando stared at it.
Looked at the toddler.
Looked back at the glitter.
Accepted fate.
"Sorry."
"Did you spill it?"
"No."
"...then why are you apologizing?"
"I forgot."
The paddock collectively decided she possessed the attention span of a hummingbird.
She would begin sentences like:
"I'm gonna go tell Maxâ"
Then stop.
See a pigeon.
Spend fifteen minutes attempting diplomacy with the pigeon.
Never remember Max.
Max discovered this firsthand.
She marched over determinedly.
"Maxie."
"Yeah?"
"I hafta tell you somethin'."
He crouched.
"What is it?"
Long pause.
Tiny frown.
"..."
"..."
"...I forgot."
Max waited.
She gasped.
"I LIKE DINOSAURS."
Then sprinted away.
Max looked after her.
Then looked at the nearest camera.
"I think I just got side-quested."
Kimi Antonelli became her designated drawing buddy.
Mostly because he was patient.
She drew circles.
Declared they were race cars.
One looked suspiciously like a potato.
She insisted it was George.
George was offended.
"Why am I the potato?"
"It has hair."
"I have hair."
"It funny."
"..."
"...fair."
Oliver Bearman made the mistake of letting her borrow his cap.
She disappeared.
Again.
Twenty minutes.
Entire paddock searching.
Found asleep.
Under a hospitality couch.
Still wearing the cap.
One sock missing.
Nobody ever found the sock.
Yuki introduced her to bubble wrap.
Disaster.
For thirty straight minutes:
POP.
POP.
POP.
POP.
POP.
Mechanics thought something was broken.
It wasn't.
Just Y/N.
Very happy.
Pierre taught her rock-paper-scissors.
She immediately invented "rocket."
Rocket beat everything.
She won every game.
Declared herself champion.
Fernando applauded.
Alex Albon discovered she liked piggyback rides.
Unfortunately.
She never wanted to get down.
For almost an hour.
Every time he crouched:
"Again!"
"Y/N..."
"Again!"
"...okay."
Logan found her crying.
Immediate concern.
"What happened?"
"I lost my dinosaur."
"Oh no."
They searched.
Lewis searched.
Charles searched.
Oscar searched.
Lando checked catering.
Security checked lost and found.
Thirty-five minutes later...
The dinosaur was in her pocket.
She'd forgotten.
She hugged Logan anyway.
"Wuv you Loggie."
Worth it.
Lunch presented a new challenge.
Because she wouldn't sit still.
One bite.
Run.
Come back.
Half a grape.
Run.
Return.
Drink juice.
Leave.
Wave at helicopter.
Forget sandwich existed.
George eventually carried her around while she absentmindedly ate crackers.
It was the only successful feeding strategy all weekend.
Then came media day.
Big mistake.
Huge.
One reporter asked Lewis,
"What's the biggest challenge this season?"
Before he could answerâ
Tiny voice.
"ME."
Everyone looked.
Y/N had climbed into the empty chair.
Lewis nodded solemnly.
"Correct."
She also interrupted Charles mid-interview to whisper,
"I found bug."
He immediately followed her outside to inspect the bug.
The Ferrari PR team nearly cried.
The race engineers were worse.
They adored her.
One handed her a dry-erase marker.
Now she had access to strategy boards.
She drew smiling suns.
One giraffe.
And what she insisted was "downforce."
Nobody questioned it.
Near sunset, her uncle finally sighed.
"I think she's slowing down."
The entire grid watched hopefully.
She yawned.
Eyes drooping.
Tiny wobble.
Lewis smiled.
"Nap time."
She climbed into his lap.
Closed her eyes.
Silence.
Finally.
Peace.
...
Thirty-seven seconds laterâ
Her eyes snapped open.
She pointed across the paddock.
"ICE CREAM."
And she was running again.
Lewis didn't even try to stop her.
He simply stood up.
Looked at Charles.
Charles looked at Oscar.
Oscar looked at Max.
Max looked at Fernando.
Fernando sighed.
The entire grid, without saying a word, collectively jogged after the world's tiniest, loudest, most distractible little human.
Because someone had to make sure the baby cub didn't accidentally wander into the pit lane chasing a butterfly.
Pairing: BTS (platonic!ot7) x 8th member!reader, F1 grid x platonic!reader
Genre: Platonic fluff, comedy, idol!au, sports!au, chaotic crack fic, found-family vibes
Warnings: Excessive sibling-style teasing, Mild swearing/chaos, Y/N flying across a stadium on a harness (drivers lose their minds), Karaoke crimes committed by the F1 grid, Reader being a dual menace on stage and on track
Present â The Korean GP, Nightfall
The Korean GP wasnât just another race on the calendarâit was a festival. The crowd was bigger, the lights brighter, and the noise? Deafening.
And tonight, the drivers werenât the only stars of the show.
On the massive stage built by the pit straight, the crowd roared as the opening notes of Euphoria began.
The F1 grid was squeezed into the VIP section like schoolkids on a field trip. Lando was practically bouncing in his seat, Daniel had his phone out already, and Charles was squinting at the stage as if he could decode what was about to happen just by staring hard enough.
âSo this is it, huh?â Lewis smirked, leaning back with his arms crossed. âOur girlâs big idol life.â
âDonât trip on stage, lilâ sis!â Pierre yelled toward the darkened stage, though you couldnât hear him.
And thenâspotlight. Jungkookâs voice filled the air.
âYou are the cause of my euphoriaâŚâ đś
The crowd screamed.
And then you walked into the light, your voice joining hisâstrong, steady, and in perfect harmony.
âTake my hands now~ You are the cause of my euphoriaâŚâ
The drivers? Absolutely gobsmacked.
Landoâs jaw dropped.
âWait. WAIT. She can SING like that?!â
Carlos side-eyed him.
âSheâs literally in BTS, hermano. What did you think she does, play tambourine in the back?â
Charles blinked.
ââŚI sang Celine Dion in front of her at karaoke.â
Flashback , Monaco, Two Months Ago
The karaoke bar was small, cheap, and perfect. Post-race tradition at this point. Half the grid crammed inside, the smell of beer and fried food filling the room.
George had the mic first.
âHit me baby one more tiiimeââ
It was both earnest and painfully off-key. Lando was howling. Daniel had his phone out, recording blackmail material.
Then Charles got sentimental. He picked a French ballad, pouring his heart into it while Carlos muttered,
âHere we go again.â
By the time it got to you, the drivers were rowdy.
âGo on then, Y/N,â Lando grinned, shoving the mic into your hand. âLetâs hear what the K-pop idol has got.â
They expected fun. They expected decent.
What they got was Adele.
And not just Adeleâyou nailing Adele. Every note, every run, flawless.
The room went dead silent.
Lewis blinked.
ââŚOh. Sheâs actually good.â
Seb shook his head into his beer.
âOf course sheâs good. Some people get all the skills.â
Daniel threw his arms in the air.
âNo. CHEATING. Youâre banned. This is unfair advantage.â
Charles clutched his chest.
âYou let me suffer through Celine Dion in front of you while hiding THIS?â
You just shrugged.
âShouldâve asked.â
Back then, they thought you were talented. But they had no idea what was waiting for them at the Korean GP.
Present , Korean GP Performance
The chorus swelled. Jungkookâs harness lifted first, and suddenly he was soaring over the crowd, still singing like nothing was unusual.
The drivers lost it.
Max grabbed his head.
âNO. NO, NO. WHY IS HE FLYING?!â
Daniel wheezed.
âBro, imagine if one of us did this at a podium ceremony.â
And then the crew clipped you in.
The crowd erupted, and before the drivers could process it, you were in the air, swinging across the venue opposite Jungkook.
âEuphoria! Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah~â
Your voice carried flawlessly through the stadium, your body suspended above thousands of fans, harmonizing with Jungkook as you crossed paths midair.
The grid collectively screamed like nervous parents.
Pierre:
âSHEâS GONNA FALL, MON DIEUââ
George:
âIs this even safe?!â
Charles whispered like he was praying:
ââŚEuphoriaâŚâ
Daniel yelled,
âSHEâS GONNA DIE BUT SHEâS STILL SLAYING.â
Meanwhile Lewis was smirking proudly, arms folded.
âThatâs our girl.â
Flashback, Karaoke Night, Continued
Your Adele performance had ended, but the drivers werenât letting it slide.
Lando tried to wrestle the mic back.
âNope. Youâre out. Disqualified. Never singing again.â
âBig words,â you teased. âWant me to pick another song?â
The room erupted in âNO!âs, but you grinned and queued up Dynamite.
Ten seconds later, the grid was trying (and failing) to do BTS choreography, half-screaming lyrics, and falling over each other. You just stood there, cackling.
Jungkook later found the video. You nearly died when he showed it to the other members.
Present , After the Performance
The lights went out. The crowd thundered.
You and Jungkook bowed, sweaty and breathless, grinning at each other before jogging off stage.
The drivers were silent.
Thenâ
Lando:
ââŚShe murdered us at karaoke and we thought that was it. But THIS?â
George shook his head.
âWeâre never living this down.â
Charles pointed accusingly at you as you came backstage.
âYou betrayed me. You let me sing badly in front of you. Betrayal!â
Max, still pale:
âForget the singingâWHO LET HER FLY OVER THE CROWD?!â
Daniel threw his hands up.
âSheâs banned from karaoke forever. Done. Over.â
You grinned, still catching your breath.
âWhat can I say? Dual champion. Track and stage.â
Cue the groaning. Cue Jungkook collapsing with laughter. Cue BTS laughing even harder watching twenty grown men implode.
And that was the night the F1 grid realizedâ
You werenât just their little sister.
You werenât just fast on the track.
You werenât just good at karaoke.
You were a stadium-level powerhouseâand theyâd never let you live it down.
The daughter of single dad Lewis hamilton who just made it too F1 and took his spot in Mercedes after he moved to our darling Italian Stallions (sorry kimi, we love you tho). Despite the Hamilton name backing her, she ends up getting worse prejudice than Lewis did in her rookie year, because she's a girl and most likely the product of a grid girl and Lewis. Anyways, after many a trial and tribulation- she gets her first race win, and dedicates it to her dad in the media pen, where hes right next to her, and they ask her the meaning behind her number (her number is 22). And she says its because "my dad will always be twice the person I am" đĽş. Just Lewis's reaction to that, and the flashbacks he gets of wanting to give the baby up, then meeting her for the first time, then absolutely falling in love with the little bean. And on the podium, maybe they show a picture of young Lewis bringing baby Hamilton onto the podium, 18 years ago, then her standing at the top spot, all grown up?
Sorry if this is alot of writing and detail, but I just ADORE this idea. I love your work, and tysm, have a good day (or night)!
the meaning of twenty-two. | lewis hamilton x daughter!reader
pairing: lewis hamilton x platonic!duaghter!driver!reader
a/n: i loved writing the father-daughter relationship in this story, as being a daddy's girl myself. I also know that Yuki # is 22 but just bear with me :)
There had always been one thing your father taught you.
"People are going to decide who you are before you ever get the chance to introduce yourself."
You were six years old when he first said it.
At the time, you didn't understand.
By eighteen, you knew exactly what he meant.
The day Mercedes announced you as their newest driver, the internet exploded.
Some celebrated.
Many didn't.
The headlines weren't about your junior career, your karting championships, or the thousands of hours you had spent behind the wheel.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Hi i was wondering if you could do something like female 14th member of seventeen, that's also in F1, and she has a bad habit of digging her fingers in her arm that leaves bruises and maybe blood if your ok with that, and the f1 people and the svt members find out and try to distract her or something so she dosen't do it anymore. If you can maybe write a couple different scenarios? If you can't do it, it's alright and i completley understand. I absolutely love your works!!! Hope you have a great day!
âKeep Your Hands Busy, Please.â
Pairing:Seventeen x Platonic!14thMember!Reader, platonic!F1 Grid x paltonic!Driver!Reader
The first person to notice was Vernon.
Not because it was obvious.
Actually, Y/N had gotten very good at hiding it.
Years of schedules, cameras, interviews, and media training had taught her how to keep her expression neutral even when her brain felt like it was moving a thousand miles an hour. Between F1 weekends, comeback preparations, dance rehearsals, sponsor events, recordings, flights, meetings, and performances, she had learned how to function while overwhelmed.
That didnât mean the stress disappeared.
It just⌠went somewhere else.
Usually into the crescent-shaped marks in her arms.
At first it was unconscious.
Her nails digging into the skin of her forearm while sitting through long debriefs.
Her fingers pressing too hard into her wrist while waiting for qualifying.
Tiny grounding habits that slowly became worse over time.
The problem was that Y/N never realized she was doing it until afterward.
Until she looked down and found bruises.
Or little broken marks where her nails had pressed too hard.
Or blood.
And by then it was already done.
So she hid it.
Long sleeves. Hoodies. Gloves. Bracelets. Anything.
She thought she was subtle.
She underestimated Seventeen.
It happened during dance practice.
The members were sprawled across the floor after running choreography for almost three hours straight. Hoshi was still somehow standing despite sweating through his shirt. Mingyu had collapsed dramatically near the speakers. Seungkwan was complaining loudly about âhuman rights violations.â
And Y/N sat against the mirrored wall, quiet.
Vernon noticed because she wasnât participating in the chaos.
Usually she laughed at Seungkwanâs whining. Usually she threw water bottles at Hoshi when he got too intense.
Today she was silent.
Her right hand was gripping her left forearm hard enough for her knuckles to turn pale.
Vernonâs eyes narrowed slightly.
Then he saw it.
Her nails pressing deeper.
Again.
Again.
Like she didnât even notice.
Before he could think too hard about it, he reached over casually and handed her a sports drink.
âHold this.â
Y/N blinked, startled from whatever spiral sheâd been in.
âWhat?â
âHold it,â he repeated.
Automatically, she let go of her arm to take the drink.
The red marks remained.
Vernon didnât say anything.
But later that night, he quietly told Jeonghan.
And Jeonghan noticed everything.
After that, it became impossible not to see.
Not because Y/N was careless.
But because the people around her loved her too much.
The F1 grid noticed different things than Seventeen did.
Seventeen noticed the emotional signs first.
The way her shoulders got tense during stressful comeback periods.
How she sometimes went completely quiet after difficult practices.
How she picked at her skin while memorizing schedules.
The drivers noticed it during race weekends.
Oscar noticed her clenching her fists during red flags.
Charles noticed her gripping her own arm during media scrums.
Lewis noticed because Lewis noticed everything.
He saw her absentmindedly digging her nails into her skin during a strategy briefing and gently slid a pen into her hand instead.
âHold this for me,â he said casually.
Y/N blinked.
ââŚYou literally have another pen.â
âYeah. But I want you to hold this one.â
His voice was so normal that she didnât argue.
Only later did she realize she hadnât touched her arm for the rest of the meeting.
The first time Seventeen fully realized how bad it had gotten was accidental.
It was after a concert.
Everyone was exhausted, still buzzing with adrenaline backstage while staff rushed around trying to organize exits.
Y/N had changed quickly into an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, hair still damp from sweat.
Joshua was talking to her while she searched through a bag for her phone when her sleeve slipped down slightly.
And he saw the bruises.
Small purple marks scattered along her forearm.
Some faded.
Some fresh.
One still angry red.
Joshua stopped mid-sentence.
Y/N immediately pulled her sleeve back down.
Too late.
His expression changed instantlyânot judgmental, not angry.
Just quietly heartbroken.
ââŚY/N.â
âIâm fine.â
That answer came too fast.
Which made it worse somehow.
Joshua looked at her for a long moment before gently saying:
âYou donât have to say that automatically, you know.â
That nearly made her cry on the spot.
The thing about Seventeen was that they never approached problems alone.
The moment one member knew something serious, somehow all thirteen eventually knew too.
Not in a gossiping way.
In a âhow do we help?â way.
Suddenly, without directly mentioning it, they started intervening.
Hoshi shoved stress balls into her hands during rehearsals.
âGrip this instead,â he said.
Woozi started pulling her into the studio more often just to sit quietly while he worked.
Minghao taught her grounding exercises during flights.
Jeonghan distracted her whenever he noticed her zoning out.
Seungkwan became aggressively attentive.
âHands,â heâd say suddenly.
âWhat?â
âUse them for something else.â
Then heâd shove snacks, phones, water bottlesâliterally anythingâinto her hands.
Sometimes it annoyed her.
Sometimes it embarrassed her.
Mostly it made her emotional.
The F1 grid handled it differently.
Drivers werenât exactly known for openly discussing feelings.
So instead they adapted quietly.
Lando started tossing random objects at her during meetings whenever he noticed her picking at herself.
âCatch.â
âWhy are you throwing things at me?â
âYou looked bored.â
Oscar began sitting beside her during debriefs because he noticed she fidgeted less when someone was there.
Carlos would randomly drag her into conversations to keep her distracted.
Kimi -surprisingly observant despite being a rookie himself- started carrying little fidget toys in his pockets.
The first time he handed her one awkwardly, he nearly died of embarrassment.
âI heard these help,â he muttered.
Y/N stared at the tiny cube in her palm.
Then at him.
ââŚThank you.â
He shrugged aggressively.
âDonât mention it.â
Lewis handled it best.
Not because he magically fixed anything.
But because he never made her feel ashamed.
One night after a particularly brutal qualifying session, Y/N sat alone outside the paddock garage, still in partial race gear.
Her hands hurt.
Everything hurt.
She hadnât even realized she was digging into her skin again until Lewis quietly sat beside her.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then he held out a pair of gloves.
She frowned slightly. âWhy?â
âKeeps your hands busy.â
âYouâre making it sound like Iâm a toddler.â
Lewis smiled softly.
âNo. Iâm making it sound like youâre stressed.â
That hit harder than she expected.
Because nobody had said it that simply before.
Not weak.
Not dramatic.
Not difficult.
Just stressed.
Human.
The hardest part for Y/N wasnât stopping.
It was realizing how many people cared enough to notice.
Because she genuinely thought nobody saw.
Then suddenly-
Hoshi was grabbing her wrists dramatically during practice.
Jeonghan was linking arms with her during schedules.
DK kept making her hold his microphone for no reason.
Mingyu absentmindedly rested things in her hands constantly.
And the drivers?
The drivers were worse.
Lando physically slapped her hand away once.
âStop attacking yourself.â
âI wasnâtââ
âYou literally were.â
Oscar handed her iced coffee during interviews because both hands had to hold it.
Charles started squeezing her shoulder whenever he passed by.
Tiny reminders.
Tiny interruptions.
Tiny ways of saying:
We see you.
Eventually, Y/N broke down.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
Just one quiet night in Seventeenâs dorm living room after everyone else had mostly gone to sleep.
She sat curled into the couch while Woozi worked on music nearby.
âYou know what the stupidest part is?â she whispered suddenly.
Woozi glanced up.
âI donât even notice Iâm doing it half the time.â
There was a long pause.
Then Woozi saved his project file and walked over.
âYou know how many times Iâve seen the members mindlessly destroy themselves over stress?â
Y/N looked down silently.
Woozi sat beside her carefully.
âYouâre not weird for struggling.â
That sentence cracked something open in her chest.
Because for months sheâd felt ashamed every time someone caught her.
Like she was difficult to take care of.
Like she was becoming a burden.
But nobody around her treated her that way.
Not Seventeen.
Not the grid.
Not once.
The improvement wasnât immediate.
There were still stressful days.
Still moments where her hands wandered automatically.
But now people caught it sooner.
Now she caught it sooner.
And instead of hiding immediately, sheâd sigh and let someone help.
Sometimes that help looked ridiculous.
Like Seungkwan forcing her to peel tangerines because âyour hands are occupied now.â
Or Lando making her play stupid mobile games before qualifying.
Or Hoshi grabbing both her hands during rehearsals yelling:
âNO SELF-DESTRUCTION DURING DANCE PRACTICE.â
Which, unfortunately, became a recurring sentence.
One particularly rainy Grand Prix weekend, Y/N sat in the garage wrapped in a team jacket while watching the storm outside.
Her fingers twitched anxiously against her sleeve.
Then suddenly-
A hand shoved into hers.
A tiny squishy toy.
She looked up.
Kimi stood there awkwardly.
âI found another one.â
Behind him, Charles was holding coffee.
Oscar had snacks.
Lando had somehow brought a deck of cards.
And her phone buzzed simultaneously with messages from Seventeen:
Hoshi: HAND CHECK!!!
Seungkwan: DONâT START.
Jeonghan: Occupy yourself or Iâm calling you.
Vernon: You good?
Y/N stared at the messages for a second before laughing quietly to herself.
Not because things were magically fixed.
But because she wasnât carrying it alone anymore.
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 đŤśđŤśđŤś
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.
âP1, Y/N. P1.â
a pause.
then the softest, most broken little:
ââŚfor Japan.â
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 wasnât 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 topâ
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:
âthe most patriotic podium moment in years.â
Yuki understood immediately.
more than anyone else on the grid.
because he knew what it felt like carrying an entire countryâs 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/Nâs 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.
ââŚi have literally never seen them speak that fast before.â
Oscar nodded slowly.
âI donât think theyâve breathed once.â
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.
âsometimes hearing your own language feels like taking a deep breath after holding it in for too long.â
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 everyoneâs unofficial tour guide.
âNO NO YOU HAVE TO TRY THIS.â
âY/N it is 11 p.m.â
âAND?â
â...fair point.â
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 wasnât 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 theyâd 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:
âThey carry Japan very gently.â
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:
âY/N-SENSHU!â
Y/N looked up immediately.
the child was holding a tiny Japanese flag.
âYOU STILL DID YOUR BEST!â
silence.
complete silence.
and Y/Nâs 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:
ârepresentation matters.â
the grid understood that too.
especially younger drivers.
because Y/N inspired people in ways statistics couldnât 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/Nâs lead.
and when the anthem finished, Y/N looked completely overwhelmed.
hands shaking slightly.
eyes glossy.
because in that moment it didnât 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. đâ¨
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, itâs 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 canât wait to share these upcoming pieces with you all. đ
I am back. I was the one that requested Charles knowing BTS.
So my next request and again if you donât 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, đ(if it hasnât been taken yet)
âWait⌠Thatâs YOU?â
Pairing: Stray Kids x Platonic!9thMember!Reader, platonic!F1 Grid x Driver!Reader
A/N: Hey đ, and no it hasn't been taken yet :)
Media Day in Formula 1 was, unfortunately, one of Y/Nâs 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.
âHow are you feeling for this weekend?â
âWhat are your expectations?â
âHow difficult is Turn 3?â
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 heâd 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.
âMedia starts in ten,â her PR manager warned.
She sighed dramatically.
âI suddenly understand why retired drivers disappear into mountains.â
Lewis laughed from across the room.
âYouâre twenty-one.â
âAnd already exhausted.â
âValid.â
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:
âOh yeah, she sings too.â
None of them had processed that Stray Kids were massive.
None of them understood that Y/N wasnât just âa singer.â
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.
âCan you sign this for me?â
âOf course,â 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 everyoneâs secrets.
Y/N blinked once.
Twice.
The fan smiled innocently.
âCan you sign it?â
Behind her, Lando leaned over curiously.
ââŚIs that you?â
Silence.
The fan nodded enthusiastically.
âYes! Itâs from the Oddinary era!â
Oscar looked over Landoâs shoulder.
Then immediately started laughing.
âNo way.â
The confusion spread through the paddock like a virus.
Charles walked past, paused, and slowly reversed.
ââŚWhy are there two versions of you?â
âItâs a postcard,â Y/N deadpanned.
âYes, but why do you look like a supervillain?â
âThat was the concept.â
Carlos grabbed the postcard next.
âYou have photocards?â
The fan gasped.
âYOU DONâT KNOW PHOTO CARDS?â
âOh no,â 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.
âSheâs glittery.â
âThatâs the limited version,â the fan explained seriously.
Ollie frowned at the back.
âThere are⌠collectible poses?â
âThere are hundreds,â another fan chimed in.
George looked horrified.
âHundreds?â
Y/N quietly considered walking into traffic.
Then Lando found the albums.
âOh my God, thereâs more.â
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 someoneâs bag.
Lewis picked up an album carefully.
âThis is genuinely impressive packaging.â
âTHANK YOU,â the fans cried collectively.
Meanwhile, Y/N had both hands over her face.
âThis is the worst day of my life.â
âNo,â Oscar corrected calmly, âthis is the funniest day of mine.â
And then it somehow got worse.
Because one fan shouted:
âASK HER WHO HER BIAS IS.â
The drivers blinked.
Charles frowned.
âWhatâs a bias?â
The fans screamed.
Y/N actually choked on air.
Lando looked delighted.
âOh this is dangerous.â
âNo,â Y/N warned immediately.
âYes,â 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.
âSo you rank each other?â George asked.
âItâs not ranking!â
âIt sounds exactly like ranking,â Max said.
Kimi pointed at Y/N.
âWhoâs your favorite?â
Y/N looked personally offended.
âI literally live with them.â
âThat didnât answer the question,â 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.
âHey, did media go well-â
Lando grabbed the phone.
âWHOâS HER BIAS?â
There was a long silence.
Then Chan sighed the sigh of a man who had suffered for years.
âWhy are race car drivers bothering me?â
âANSWER THE QUESTION,â Carlos yelled.
Y/N lunged for the phone while the fans screamed louder.
âGive me my phone!â
Chan, traitor that he was, laughed.
âOh, this is finally happening?â
âCHAN.â
âShe likes Hyunjinâs photocards best.â
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 couldnât breathe.
Felix asking if the drivers wanted albums.
Seungmin immediately choosing violence.
âShe organizes her photocards by aesthetic.â
âI HATE ALL OF YOU.â
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.
âThis,â he said thoughtfully, âexplains a lot about Y/N.â
âNo it doesnât,â she argued weakly.
âIt absolutely does.â
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 donât 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. đ¤
everyone on the grid knew one thing for certain:
if Y/N Leclerc was in the paddock, youâd 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 gridâs 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 wouldnât be alone.
and maybe thatâs why everyone noticed the change so quickly.
because Y/N going quiet?
that wasnât normal.
it started small.
she stopped running into Charlesâ 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.
âsheâs tired,â heâd said.
but then Oscar noticed she barely touched her lunch.
Pierre noticed sheâd started sitting alone after sessions.
Carlos noticed she flinched whenever someone asked if she was okay.
and Charlesâ
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 âIâm fineâ too quickly.
he tried asking gently.
âyou okay, bĂŠbĂŠ?â
and she smiled immediately.
âyeah!â
too fast.
too bright.
too fake.
Charles exchanged a look with Arthur from across the paddock.
because that wasnât 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 chaosâ
Y/N disappeared.
âhas anyone seen her?â Charles asked suddenly, looking around Ferrari hospitality.
Arthur frowned immediately. âI thought she was with Kimi.â
âShe wasnât with me,â 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.
heâd 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.
ââŚY/N?â
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.
âhey,â 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.
âoh,â he said quietly. âsomethingâs really wrong.â
Y/N immediately tried smiling.
it looked painful.
âIâm okay.â
George crouched slightly in front of her.
âyou donât have to do that.â
ââŚdo what?â
âpretend.â
and thatâ
that nearly broke her immediately.
Kimi sat beside her first.
not too close.
just enough.
quiet enough that she didnât 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.
âCharles is worried,â Kimi said softly after a while.
her eyes dropped instantly.
âI know.â
âArthur too.â
ââŚI know.â
George tilted his head slightly.
âthen why are you hiding from them?â
and her lips started trembling before she could stop them.
âI donât want them to worry more.â
the words came out cracked.
small.
Kimi frowned immediately. âMore?â
and suddenly tears were sliding down her face no matter how hard she tried stopping them.
âI justâŚâ she whispered shakily. âI miss my dad.â
silence.
heavy silence.
because instantly they understood.
not fullyânot reallyâbut enough.
grief didnât 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 shouldâve been there for all of it.
for Charles.
for Arthur.
for her.
âI didnât wanna say anything because Charles already has so much pressure and Arthurâs trying so hard and Lorenzo worries about everyone and I justââ
her voice broke completely.
âI feel bad because theyâre trying to be okay and Iâm not.â
Kimiâs 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.
âYou know,â he said carefully, âyour brothers would probably be devastated hearing you felt like you had to hide this from them.â
she wiped at her face angrily.
âI know but every time I think about saying it out loud I feel guilty.â
Kimi shook his head immediately.
âYou missing your dad isnât something to feel guilty about.â
and that sentenceâ
that one sentenceâ
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 justâŚbeing there.
no cameras.
no headlines.
just family.
the kind youâre born with.
and the kind you accidentally find.
âyou should talk to Charles,â Carlos finally said softly.
Y/N immediately shook her head.
âI canât.â
âyes, you can,â Pierre replied gently.
âHe loves you too much to want you hurting alone,â Oscar added quietly.
and honestly?
they were right.
when Charles finally found her, Arthur right behind him, both of them looked terrified.
Charlesâ expression changed immediately the second he saw her crying.
âbĂŠbĂŠ?â
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 weekendâ
she stopped trying to act okay.
âI miss him,â she cried into Charlesâ shoulder.
Charles held her tighter immediately.
his own eyes watering.
because he understood.
of course he did.
âI know,â he whispered shakily. âI miss him too.â
Arthur pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
âYou never have to hide that from us.â
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.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
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
âOperation: Find Lewis Hamilton a Girlfriendâ
(platonic!2025 f1 grid x driver!reader
chaotic grid dynamics | george russell and his cursed powerpoint | matchmaking disaster)
authorâs note:
before anybody says anything YES this was inspired by the rumors about Lewis Hamilton dating Kim Kardashian and iâm so sad about it đ 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 himânot somebody flashy or temporary. Unfortunately for Lewis, this spirals into the entire 2025 grid creating investigations, presentations, statistical analyses, and âcandidate evaluationsâ about what exactly Lewis Hamiltonâs type is. Featuring George Russell weaponizing PowerPoint, Charles being dramatic, Max pretending he doesnât 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 elseâs 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.
âIâm retiring from interviews,â he announced.
âYou say that every weekend,â 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.
âYou know what?â she said thoughtfully. âYou deserve somebody nice.â
The room went quiet.
George blinked.
Charles lowered his espresso.
Lewis looked suspicious immediately.
ââŚwhat does that mean.â
âIt means,â Y/N continued casually, âyouâre always taking care of everybody else. I think you need someone who takes care of you too.â
Charles immediately pointed at her.
âSheâs right.â
George gasped.
âOh my God,â he whispered. âWe need to find Lewis a girlfriend.â
Lewis sat up instantly.
âNo.â
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.
âNo,â he said immediately. âAbsolutely not.â
âToo late,â George replied. âWeâve already gathered research.â
Y/N nearly choked laughing.
âYou actually made slides?â
George looked offended.
âThere are charts.â
Of course there were charts.
The Contributions Begin
The problem was that everybody on the grid got involved.
Everybody.
Even drivers who pretended they didnât care somehow contributed.
Slide 4: Personality Traits Lewis Needs
George clicked dramatically.
âCandidate must be emotionally intelligent.â
Charles raised his hand immediately.
âAnd patient.â
âCorrect,â George said.
Oscar spoke up from the back.
âAlso someone calm. Because have you seen this man during strategy disasters?â
Lewis pointed accusingly.
âWhy are you here.â
Oscar shrugged.
âFree food.â
Max Somehow Participates
The most shocking contributor was probably Max Verstappen.
Who claimed he wanted ânothing to do with this.â
Yet somehowâ
He still submitted notes.
Y/N found out when George switched slides.
OBSERVATIONS PROVIDED BY MAX VERSTAPPEN
Lewis stared.
ââŚMax contributed?â
Max crossed his arms defensively.
âYouâre all idiots. Someone had to provide useful information.â
âWhat useful information?â
Max looked directly at Lewis.
âYou need someone who doesnât care about fame.â
The room went oddly quiet for a second.
Even Lewis blinked at that.
Because underneath the usual Verstappen bluntnessâ
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
âWhy do you have a notebook,â Lando asked one afternoon.
Y/N snapped it shut immediately.
âClassified information.â
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 âa hopeless romantic.â
Lewis hated every second of this.
Especially because nobody would stop discussing him like a documentary subject.
Meanwhile, Lewis is Horrified
âYouâre all insane,â 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 âgreen flags.â
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.
âYou know weâre joking around,â she said softly.
Lewis snorted.
âGeorge made pie charts.â
âOkay, mostly joking.â
He laughed quietly.
Then she tilted her head.
âBut seriously⌠I think people just want you to be happy.â
That caught him off guard.
Because underneath all the chaos and teasingâ
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 âupdates.â
Lewis nearly walked out immediately.
âAbsolutely not.â
âOh yes,â George said proudly. âWe have new data.â
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:
âMust tolerate random music at 3am.â
George actually added it to the slide.
Oscar contributed:
âNeeds emotional maturity.â
Max added:
âMust survive British sarcasm.â
Carlos added:
âProbably elegant.â
Yuki shouted from the back:
âAnd funny!â
Lewis covered his face with his hands.
âI regret mentoring all of you.â
The Interview Segment
At some point Y/N started casually asking Lewis questions.
Very casually.
Suspiciously casually.
âWhatâs your ideal date?â
Lewis narrowed his eyes immediately.
âWhy.â
âNo reason.â
âYouâre investigating me.â
âMaybe a little.â
âYouâre worse than George.â
She gasped dramatically.
âThatâs rude.â
The Grid Decides Y/N is in Charge
Eventually the drivers collectively decided Y/N was now the official âLewis Happiness Coordinator.â
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 Lewisâ âtypeâ like they were discussing race strategy, Y/N found Lewis standing outside overlooking the paddock.
Quiet.
Calm.
She walked beside him.
âYou okay?â
Lewis smiled softly.
âYou know⌠this is ridiculous.â
âVery.â
âBut itâs also kind of sweet.â
Y/N bumped her shoulder against his.
âThatâs because everybody loves you.â
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 pageâ
OPERATION: GET LEWIS A GIRLFRIEND
âand 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!!!
âYouâre Not Aloneâ
(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 sheâs worked to hold together starts to crack. The grid notices. They always do. And when things spiral, they remind herâloudly, fiercelyâthat she doesnât have to face anything alone.
tw: family conflict, non-graphic crash, injury, hospital setting, anxiety
The paddock was loud.
It always was on race dayâengines in the distance, engineers shouting, cameras flashingâbut 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 hadnât disappeared years ago. Like he hadnât left her to figure everything out on her own.
Y/N froze.
Her grip tightened around her helmet.
âNoâŚâ 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.
âY/N?â he called, stepping closer.
She didnât answer.
Her eyes were locked on something behind him.
Oscar followed her line of sightâand immediately his expression changed.
ââŚoh.â
That wasnât a fan.
That wasnât 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.
âDo you want to go inside?â Charles asked quietly.
Y/N shook her head quickly. Too quickly.
âIâm fine,â she said.
She wasnât.
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.
âYouâre eighteen now,â he said, stepping closer. âYou donât have to stay with them. You can come with me.â
The words hit like a punch.
Stay with them.
Like she hadnât fought for her place here.
Like the people around her werenât her family.
Before she could respond, someone stepped in front of her.
Then another.
And another.
Suddenly, she couldnât even see him anymore.
Just the backs of the grid.
A wall.
Solid.
Unmoving.
âNo,â Oscar said simply.
Charlesâ voice was calm but firm. âYou need to leave.â
There was no shouting. No scene.
Just quiet, controlled protection.
And somehow, that made it feel even stronger.
âIâm Fineâ
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.
âYou okay?â Ollie asked.
Y/N didnât even hesitate.
âYeah.â
Kimi didnât believe her for a second.
âYouâre lying,â he said bluntly.
She forced a smile. âI said Iâm fine.â
Silence.
Ollie sighed softly. âWeâre not pushing. Just⌠donât shut us out, yeah?â
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.
âYou can come with me.â
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 thenâ
Stillness.
The radio crackled with urgent voices.
But Y/N didnât respond.
They Break Protocol
Back on track, Kimiâs heart dropped.
âRed flag?â he asked, voice tight.
No answer came fast enough.
Ollie had already slowed.
âWhere is she?â
The location came through.
And something in both of them snapped.
They didnât wait.
Didnât think.
They turned back.
Something drivers donât do.
Something that had never happened like this before.
Getting to Her
By the time they reached the scene, marshals were already thereâbut Kimi and Ollie were out of their cars before anyone could stop them.
âY/N!â
No response.
Ollieâs hands shook as he reached her first.
âSheâs breathing,â he said quickly, voice tight with relief.
Kimi stayed right there, refusing to move even when staff told them to step back.
âNo,â he said. âWeâre staying.â
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 enterâ
He didnât make it past the door.
Max.
Charles.
Oscar.
Even others stepped in.
âNot happening,â someone said.
Firm. Final.
When She Wakes
The first thing Y/N noticed was the quiet hum of machines.
The secondâ
Voices.
Familiar ones.
ââŚsheâs waking up.â
Her eyes fluttered open.
And there they were.
Kimi, right next to her.
Ollie, leaning forward instantly.
âYou scared us,â Ollie said, voice rough.
Kimi didnât say anythingâhe 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.
âYouâre not getting rid of us,â Oscar said lightly.
Y/N blinked, her throat tight.
ââŚokay,â she whispered.
After
Later, when things calmed down, she finally said it.
Quietly.
âI didnât want him there.â
Kimi nodded immediately. âThen he wonât be.â
Ollie added, âYou donât deal with that alone. Ever.â
please aaany fic that the reader is bts 8th member + f1 driver
đ¤đď¸ âTHE GIRL WHO DIDNâT CAREâ
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 didnât fight back â she just performed. And with one song, one stage, and seven brothers behind her, she reminded everyone exactly who she was.
đ The World Turns Ugly
It started small â whispers in interviews, snide comments on social media.
âShe only got that F1 seat because of her fame.â
âSheâs not serious about racing â sheâs an idol first.â
âSheâs too soft for this sport.â
Then came the think pieces.
Clips from her rookie mistakes, slowed down and dissected.
Reporters who smiled to her face, then wrote paragraphs about âthe decline of professionalism in F1.â
You didnât react.
Not once.
Which, of course, made them angrier.
đď¸ The Media
They tried baiting you every race weekend.
âY/N, how do you respond to the criticism that youâre more performer than driver?â
âDo you think BTS fame distracts from your racing career?â
âSome say youâre taking up a seat more deserving of a âreal racerââcare to comment?â
Your replies were polite, short, and devastatingly boring.
âI just focus on driving.â
âIâm grateful for my team.â
âNext question?â
đď¸ The Grid Fights Back
You didnât need to speak.
The drivers did for you.
Lewis on Sky Sports:
âSheâs training harder than half the grid. Iâve seen her telemetry. Sheâs the real deal.â
George to a journalist:
âIf she was a man, no one would question her focus.â
Charles:
âIf you donât respect her, that says more about you than her.â
Carlos:
âSheâs been consistent all season. Consistency doesnât come from marketing.â
Lando, during a Twitch stream:
âPeople act like she sings in the car mid-race. Bro, sheâs literally out-qualifying veterans. Calm down.â
Max:
âLet her drive. Sheâs not here for your approval.â
Daniel:
âIf she ever wants to give them an F-you, Iâll print the T-shirt.â
The fandoms went feral.
#WeStandWithYN trended worldwide.
ARMYs and F1 fans joined forces for once â and that never happens.
But you?
Still silent.
đŹ [BTS GC: âprotect the childâ]
Jin: i swear if i read one more nasty article iâm calling dispatch myself
Yoongi: let them talk. sheâs working.
Namjoon: agreed. her results speak louder.
Hobi: sheâs fine, but i hate how cruel people get.
Tae: should we post something supportive?
Jimin: maybe just emojis.
Jungkook: sheâs pretending not to care but sheâs definitely heard it.
Y/N: i can see this chat, geniuses.
All: âŚ
Y/N: donât worry about it. iâm fine. really.
Yoongi: youâre planning something arenât you
Y/N: maybe :)
đ¤ âIDOLâ Announcement
When HYBE dropped the teaser, the internet combusted.
âBTS â IDOL (2025 Reimagined)â
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.
đ§ BTS PRESS CONFERENCE
Reporter: âThe new version of IDOLâdoes it have a message?â
Namjoon: smiling softly âIt always has.â
Taehyung: âItâs about pride. Confidence. Being yourself no matter who doubts you.â
Yoongi: âItâs not a response. Itâs a reminder.â
The cameras flash.
The headlines spin.
You donât say a word.
đ 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.
đ¤ The Performance: âIDOL (2025 Version)â
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 â
You step out.
Wearing your racing gloves, mic in hand, grinning like a storm.
Jungkook hits the first verse.
Taehyung spins.
Hobi jumps.
The crowdâs wild â but itâs when you join the chorus that the internet dies.
âYou canât stop me lovinâ myself!â
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 Yoongiâs verse beside him, eyes sharp, tone playful:
âThey point fingers, I could care less â my world, my rules, my success.â
The crowd goes feral.
ARMYs crying. F1 fans screaming. Toto Wolff somewhere in the crowd, clapping slowly with a look that says âI told you she was unstoppable.â
And when the final chorus drops â all eight of you jump, lights flashing, hands raised, shouting together:
âYou canât stop me lovinâ myself!â
đśď¸ AFTERMATH: THE INTERNET MELTDOWN
ARMY Twitter:
âShe didnât clap back. She performed back.â
âThatâs how you clear a rumor â with choreography.â
F1 Twitter:
âShe basically told the entire paddock she doesnât care and then qualified P2.â
âThe line between idol and driver doesnât exist anymore. Sheâs both.â
Reporters:
âPerhaps we misjudged Y/Nâs focus.â
âHer statement through art was louder than any interview.â
đŹ [F1 GC, after the performance]
Lando: i got goosebumps
Charles: i teared up ngl
Carlos: her confidence is scary. in a good way.
Lewis: thatâs how you handle hate. elegance.
George: she didnât even say a word. queen behavior.
Max: i wouldâve yelled back. she just⌠danced??
Daniel: and won the weekend.
Oscar: legend behavior.
Alex: weâre getting BTS merch now right
Pierre: already ordered
đŹ [BTS GC AFTER STAGE]
Jin: did you see the crowd??
Yoongi: she killed it.
Hobi: SHEâS OUR STAR!!!
Namjoon: that was everything we wanted it to be.
Jimin: she didnât just sing it. she lived it.
Tae: our little sister just told off the world with one lyric.
Jungkook: iâm stealing her gloves.
Y/N: i told you i didnât care :)
đď¸ POST-RACE INTERVIEW
Reporter: âY/N, IDOL seemed like a bold statement. Was it a message to critics?â
You laugh. âNo. It was just fun. I like that song.â
You wink at the camera.
âBesides, I donât need to explain who I am. I already know.â
đ ENDING SCENE
BTS and the Mercedes team wait at parc fermĂŠ.
You park the car, step out, helmet off â smiling, hair damp, pride blazing.
Jungkookâs first to hug you.
Taehyung lifts your arm like you just won a world title.
Yoongi pats your shoulder, muttering, âThatâs our maknae.â
The crowd chants your name.
Every headline screams your quote.
âI donât need to explain who I am. I already know.â
đ âThe Grid vs. Y/Nâs Skull Panda Obsessionâ
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 âââ(ËśË ęł ËËś)ââžâž
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.
âWhy does this one have a tiny umbrella?â Max asks, staring suspiciously at a figure.
You snatch it away immediately.
âDonât touch her.â
ââŚYou named it?â
âHer name is not important. Her vibes are.â
Max stares at you.
âYou are so weird.â
You grin.
âYou drove a GT car under a fake name for fun.â
ââŚFair.â
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 gridâincluding the rookiesâhas 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.
âYouâre serious?â
Your media manager nods.
âWe already sent the drivers.â
âOh my God.â
The Shopping Trip Disaster
Not a single driver knows what theyâre looking for.
Which makes the footage ten times funnier.
Lando walks into a toy store and immediately looks overwhelmed.
âThere are too many tiny people in boxes.â
The employee asks if he needs help.
âI need emotional support.â
Oscar picks the first box he sees.
âStatistically theyâre all the same.â
The employee tries to explain the rare figures.
Oscar nods politely.
Still picks the nearest one.
Charles is weirdly invested.
âThis one has stars. She would like stars.â
He spends fifteen minutes choosing the âperfect vibe.â
George researches the whole thing beforehand.
He has notes.
He knows the names of the collections.
He arrives with three boxes because he âwanted to maximize the odds.â
You stare at him in awe.
Kimi asks someone in the store:
âWhich one would a Verstappen like?â
The employee laughs.
Kimi is completely serious.
Ollie buys one because the box was purple.
âThat seems like something sheâd enjoy.â
And honestly?
You do.
Then thereâs Max.
Max absolutely refuses to participate at first.
âIâm not buying little dolls.â
âYes you are,â you tell him.
âNo.â
âYes.â
âNo.â
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.
âI still donât understand what these are.â
The employee asks if he wants gift wrapping.
âThey are not gifts.â
The Unboxing Video
Your team sets everything up in the paddock during race week.
Thereâs a table.
A giant pile of boxes.
And you sitting in the middle already vibrating with excitement.
âThis is the best day of my life.â
Max is sitting beside you looking like he regrets every decision that led him here.
First box: Lando.
You open it dramatically.
Itâs a cute sleepy figure with stars.
You gasp.
âOh my God. Sheâs adorable.â
Lando beams.
âI knew youâd like her.â
âYou picked this?â
âNo, actually I panicked.â
Oscarâs box is next.
You open it.
Blink.
Then burst out laughing.
Itâs one with the most blank expression imaginable.
You hold it up beside Oscarâs face.
The resemblance is terrifying.
Even Oscar laughs.
âThatâs fair.â
Charles gets a super pretty rare one.
You nearly scream.
âCHARLES!â
âWhat? Is it good?â
âITâS SO GOOD.â
He smiles proudly like he personally handcrafted it.
Georgeâs turn is somehow even worse.
He got the exact one you had been hunting for for weeks.
You stare at it.
Then at him.
âYou have no idea what youâve done.â
George looks terrified.
âIs that good or bad?â
âIâm stealing it.â
Kimiâs box has one with little racing goggles.
You immediately point at him.
âYou did that on purpose.â
Kimi shrugs.
âI guessed.â
Then finallyâ
Maxâs turn.
You narrow your eyes suspiciously.
âYou better not have picked a boring one.â
âI literally just grabbed one.â
You open it.
Pause.
Then slowly look up.
Itâs one of the rarest figures in the collection.
The prettiest one.
The one youâve wanted forever.
The entire room erupts.
âNo way.â
âYouâre kidding.â
âTHATâS THE ONE?â
You are actually speechless.
Max looks at the figure.
Then at you.
ââŚIs that good?â
You launch yourself at him so hard he nearly falls out of his chair.
âYOU GOT ME THE SECRET ONE!â
Max is laughing now.
Actually laughing.
âOkay, okay!â
The video goes viral instantly.
Fans love it.
The comments are full of:
âMax pretending not to care but getting the rare one is sibling magic.â
âGeorge did RESEARCH.â
âOscar picking the one that looked exactly like him is so on brand.â
âCharles choosing based on vibes is killing me.â
And most importantly:
âY/N Verstappen forcing the grid into her hyperfixation is the best thing to happen to Formula 1.â
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 doesnât 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!!
đ âShe Wasnât ColdâShe Was Just Trying to Breathe.â
Pairing: Platonic! 2025 F1 Grid x Fem!Driver!Reader
Genre: Angst â 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 isnât âcoldââsheâs overwhelmed. And thankfully, sheâs 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 âmature for your age.â
Reserved.
Focused.
Professional.
But then the comments start.
Not in the paddock.
Online.
âSheâs so boring.â
âNo personality.â
âWhy is she always so stiff?â
âShe acts like she doesnât even want to be there.â
âCompare her to other driversâno charisma.â
At first, you ignore it.
Youâve been trained to.
Media training.
PR guidelines.
âDonât read comments.â
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.
Itâs Not That Youâre Cold
Itâs just that your brain never really⌠quiets.
Race weekends are loud.
Engines.
Radios.
Crowds.
Expectations.
Your thoughts layer on top of it all:
Donât mess this up.
Theyâre watching.
Youâre not doing enough.
Say the right thing.
Donât be awkward.
Donât 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 donât say muchâ
You canât say the wrong thing.
Lando Notices First
Lando has known you long enough to tell when somethingâs off.
Itâs 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.
âHey,â he says casually. âYou okay?â
You nod immediately.
âYeah.â
Too fast.
Too automatic.
Lando tilts his head.
ââŚYou sure?â
You force a smile.
âIâm fine.â
He doesnât push.
But he doesnât 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 oneâs looking.
The way you go quiet when too many people are around.
He doesnât ask immediately.
Oscar isnât like that.
He just starts⌠staying nearby more.
Sitting next to you in briefings.
Walking with you to media.
Standing close enough that you donât 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.
âShe has no presence.â
âWhy is she even here?â
âShe looks miserable all the time.â
âReplace her.â
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 doesnât work.
Try again.
Still doesnât work.
Your thoughts spiral.
Faster. Louder.
Too much.
You Donât Realize You Called Lando
But you did.
And he answers immediately.
âHeyâ?â
He hears it.
The silence.
The uneven breathing.
âY/N?â
You try to speak.
âIâmâ I donâtâ I canâtââ
Your voice breaks.
And suddenly youâre crying.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just quiet, overwhelmed tears youâve been holding in for weeks.
âI donât know why itâs so hard,â you whisper.
âIâm trying. I justâ I canât⌠breathe right.â
Thereâs a pause.
Then Landoâs voice softens instantly.
âHey. Itâs okay. Iâve got you.â
They Show Up
You donât expect it.
But twenty minutes later, thereâs a knock at your door.
You open it.
And thereâs Lando.
And Oscar.
You blink.
âYou didnât have toââ
âWe did,â Lando says simply, walking in.
Oscar closes the door gently behind him.
âNo arguments.â
They donât overwhelm you.
They donât bombard you with questions.
They just sit.
One on either side of you.
Grounding.
Present.
âBreathe with me,â Lando says quietly.
âIn⌠and out.â
He does it slowly.
You follow.
It takes a while.
But eventuallyâ
Your breathing steadies.
The Truth Comes Out
You stare at the floor.
âI think somethingâs wrong with me.â
Oscar shakes his head immediately.
âNo.â
You frown.
âI canât even talk normally without overthinking everything.â
Lando nudges your shoulder.
âThatâs called anxiety. Not failure.â
You swallow.
ââŚIt doesnât feel normal.â
Oscar speaks this time.
âIt doesnât have to be normal to be real.â
The Next Day
You donât 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 doesnât 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 doesnât 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 thatâ
Youâre not alone anymore.
The Silent Support
No one makes it a big deal.
They just⌠adjust.
Lewis checks in quietly.
âTake your time with answers,â he tells you. âNo rush.â
Charles smiles at you before interviews.
âYouâre doing better than you think.â
Max, in his own way, says:
âPeople talk. Doesnât mean theyâre right.â
The Online Hate
It doesnât stop.
But the response changes.
Clips start circulating of Lando stepping in during interviews.
Fans notice Oscar always sitting beside you.
Lewis defending âquiet personalitiesâ in press conferences.
Charles praising your work ethic.
Max shutting down criticism bluntly:
âSheâs fast. Thatâs what matters.â
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, youâd panic.
Overthink.
Rush.
But this timeâ
You hear Lando beside you, casually humming.
Oscar taps the table lightly.
Grounding.
You breathe.
And answer.
Clearly.
Simply.
Confidently.
Afterward, Lando grins.
âSee? Easy.â
You roll your eyes slightly.
âIt wasnât easy.â
Oscar shrugs.
âStill did it.â
Epilogue
Youâre still quiet.
Still reserved.
Still you.
But now?
You donât feel like youâre drowning in it.
Because youâve learned something important.
Youâre not âtoo much.â
Youâre not ânot enough.â
Youâre just someone learning how to exist in a very loud world.
And thankfully?
Youâre surrounded by people who will sit in the quiet with you.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
hiiii, iâm 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:)
âFront Row Seats to Something They Donât Understandâ
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 belongedâ
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 didnât 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 quieterâbut not unnoticed.
There was something about her. Something steady. Something focused.
Sheâd leave early sometimes, bag slung over her shoulder, muttering something about âtraining.â
Hyunjin noticed.
One day, he followed herânot in a creepy way, more in a curiosity finally winning kind of way.
What he found wasnât a dance studio.
It was a track.
Not Formula 1ânot yetâbut 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.
âYouâre lost,â she said.
He blinked. âYouâre insane.â
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 didnât, but he tried).
They didnât 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.
âI told you youâd make it,â she said.
He rolled his eyes. âYouâre next.â
She didnât say anything.
But she was already working toward it.
ENTER: STRAY KIDSâ 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 sheâd been there beforeâeven though she hadnât.
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 membersâand 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 didnât wave.
He just walked straight up to her, like muscle memory.
âYouâre late,â he said.
She raised an eyebrow. âYouâre not even part of this world.â
âI still got here before you.â
âDebatable.â
The grid watched this interaction like it was a foreign language.
Lando leaned toward Oscar. âWhy is he talking to her like that?â
Oscar shrugged. âHeâs not scared of her.â
âShould he be?â
ââŚYes.â
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 constantlyâbut never seriously.
It wasnât loud affection.
It was comfortable.
Familiar.
The kind of closeness that didnât need to be explained.
Kimi blinked. âThey act like siblings.â
Ollie frowned. âBut also like rivals?â
Lewis smiled. âThey grew up together.â
And suddenly, it made sense.
THE PERFORMANCE THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
The grid had heard Y/N was an idol.
They hadnât 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 wasnât the calm rookie driver anymore.
She was sharp. Intense. Magnetic.
Her movements hit every beat with exact control.
Her expressions shifted effortlesslyâconfidence, playfulness, power.
And Hyunjin?
Matched her.
Noâchallenged 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 âkeep upâ theyâd been doing since SOPA days.
The grid noticed immediately.
Max crossed his arms. âTheyâre competing.â
Charles shook his head. âNo. Theyâre pushing each other.â
Lewis just nodded. âThatâs history.â
BACKSTAGE AFTER
Hyunjin found her first again.
âYou missed a beat,â he said casually.
She scoffed. âYou were off-center.â
âExcuses.â
âProjection.â
They stared at each other for a secondâ
Then both laughed.
Chan walked by, shaking his head. âTheyâve been like this for years.â
Felix nodded. âItâs kind of scary.â
THE GRID UNDERSTANDS (SORT OF)
After that performance, everything clicked.
The discipline.
The control.
The quiet confidence.
It wasnât just Formula 1.
It wasnât just K-pop.
It was the same mindset in two different forms.
Ollie approached her carefully later.
âSo⌠youâve always been like that?â
She tilted her head. âLike what?â
He gestured vaguely. âGood at everything.â
She laughed. âNo. Just stubborn.â
FULL CIRCLE
Back in the paddock, Hyunjin leaned against the barrier while she got ready for qualifying.
âYou nervous?â he asked.
She adjusted her gloves. âNo.â
âLiar.â
She smirked. âA little.â
He nodded. âGood. Means you care.â
She looked at him thenâreally looked.
From SOPA classrooms.
To debut stages.
To world tours.
To Formula 1 grids.
âYou came far,â she said.
He shrugged. âSo did you.â
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 lineâ
Somewhere in the paddock, Hyunjin watched with a small, knowing smile.
Because heâd seen her long before the world did.
(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:Â 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 â dorm chaos
the first sound of the morning was you groaning into your pillow.
âfive more minutesâŚâ you mumbled.
âyah, y/n, we have class before practice today.â jungwonâs 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. âparticles? now?â
jay smirked. âyes, now. breakfast and grammar. it builds character.â
âi hate you.â
jake popped his head in from the kitchen, holding up toast. âcheer up, kid. at least you get food bribery.â
you stared at the toast suspiciously. âdo i have to conjugate verbs before i get that?â
jay: âyes.â
you: groans louder
10:30 AM â language class
your teacher had just finished explaining sentence endings when she asked you to read a line from the textbook.
âě ë⌠ě´âŚ 읤íźâŚ ě˘ěí´ě,â you said, stumbling.
the members sitting behind you in disguise as âsupportive siblingsâ snickered.
ni-ki whispered, âyou sound like me when i was twelve.â
sunoo clapped sarcastically. âcongratulations, baby! you can order coffee now!â
you threw your pencil at him.
the teacher just smiled. âsheâs improving. good job, y/n.â
2:00 PM â dance practice
halfway through learning formations for bite me, you messed up the count again.
âsorry!â you yelped, switching sides too late.
heeseung laughed, pulling you into position. âyouâre fine. just donât run into me again or iâm filing a complaint.â
âfile it in korean then,â you shot back.
the whole room gasped like youâd roasted him into oblivion.
sunghoon: âooooh, maknae got jokes now.â
4:00 PM â vlive moment
sunoo went live, dragging you with him. chat immediately filled with:
ây/n speak korean plssss.â
âtest her language skills!!â
sunoo grinned. âokay, introduce yourself in korean. go.â
you froze. âuh⌠annyeonghaseyo⌠jeoneun⌠enhypen maknae⌠y/n-imnida⌠iâm 17 years old⌠oh wait, i wasnât supposed to say that in english, right?â
sunoo wheezed. âguys, subtitles for y/n please.â
the chat exploded with hearts and crying emojis.
6:30 PM â fansign event
a fan leaned forward, speaking fast. you caught âfavorite,â âdark blood,â and âsong,â but then your brain blanked.
ââŚuhhhhâŚâ you panicked. âi⌠like⌠um, my favoriteâŚ ë ¸ë⌠isââ
jungwon immediately leaned over. âsheâs saying her favorite song changes, but right now itâs chaconne.â
the fan nodded sweetly and told you you were cute. you beamed, cheeks red, and whispered to jungwon, âleader-nim saves my life again.â
he ruffled your hair. âalways.â
9:00 PM â interview madness
the mc turned to you. ây/n-ssi, how was preparing for this comeback?â
you smiled nervously. âě°ěľâŚ was very hardâŚ ęˇźë° fun! ě°ëŚŹ team⌠work⌠ě´ěŹí.â
the boys exploded into laughter.
jake quickly translated: âshe means, practice was difficult but fun, and we worked very hard as a team.â
the interviewer chuckled, âah, subtitles for y/n.â
it trended online later.
11:30 PM â back at dorms
you sat on the floor, surrounded by worksheets. ni-ki lay upside down on the couch, quizzing you half-heartedly.
âsay apple.â
âěŹęłź.â
âsay i eat apple.â
ââŚë⌠ěŹęłźâŚ eat?â
ni-ki clapped like youâd just won a medal. âperfect!â
âthatâs wrong!â jay shouted from the kitchen.
you pouted. âheâs nicer than you.â
jay sighed, walking over. âcome on, baby. one more try. say: i eat apples.â
âě ë⌠ěŹęłźëĽźâŚ 먚ě´ě.â
jay froze. ââŚthatâs actually right.â
the whole dorm erupted into cheers, sunghoon shaking your shoulders, sunoo screaming, jake lifting you off the ground like youâd 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 enhypenâyour chaotic, teasing, protective older brothersâwould be there every step of the way.
International Edition
1:00 PM â airport chaos
staff had warned you to keep your answers simple when reporters called questions, but did you listen? absolutely not.
reporter: ây/n! how do you feel about flying overseas?â
you: âuhhh⌠ëší기⌠scary⌠but also cool⌠i bring⌠snacks?â
jay literally facepalmed. âshe said: flying is scary but cool, and she brought snacks.â
the fancams went viral. caption: subtitles for y/n: airport edition.
7:00 PM â first intl fansign
an american fan greeted you in english. you lit up instantly.
âoh my gosh hiiii!â you chirped, forgetting you were supposed to stick to short greetings. âthank you so much for supporting us! your nails are so cute by the way, whereâd you get them done?â
the translator sitting next to you just stared, overwhelmed. meanwhile, sunghoon leaned over like, âsee? this is her true form. talkative menace.â
the fan left crying happy tears, and sunghoon muttered, âsheâs unstoppable in english.â
10:00 PM â backstage with txt
soobin had heard the rumors. he found you backstage and asked, âis it true you mix korean and english in one sentence?â
you blinked. ââŚyes?â
he grinned. âsay something.â
you thought for a second. âě¤ë 돴ë⌠was so fun! ë´ energy⌠like boom-boom.â
txt collapsed laughing. yeonjun immediately posted on weverse: y/n invented a new dialect. weâre all switching to it.
enhypen scolded them later: âdonât encourage her!!â
12:00 AM â vlive after intl tour stop
chat: ây/n whatâs your fav part about performing abroad?â
you: âumm⌠the fans! their energy is⌠ë돴 crazy. and also⌠ěě⌠delicious. i ate like, three burgers yesterday.â
heeseung: âstop exposing yourself.â
chat lost it. clips titled ây/n: professional idol, professional eaterâ trended within hours.
2:00 AM â dorm convo with staff
manager hyung sighed while updating your schedule. ây/n, your korean is improving, butââ
âbut subtitles still necessary?â you asked innocently.
he chuckled. âyeah. but itâs your charm now. fans love it.â
from across the room, sunoo shouted: âsee?! youâre a walking k-drama with subs!â
bonus: other idols roasting you
le sserafimâs eunchae once told you on a show, âunnie, i think i speak better korean than you.â you almost cried. enhypen laughed for 10 minutes straight.
newjeansâ hanni whispered in english, âdonât worry, iâll be your translator if youâre mine.â instant besties.
seventeenâs 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 âsubtitles for y/nâ edits.
âlook,â you giggled, showing ni-ki. âthey literally wrote âmaknae language unlocked.ââ
ni-ki laughed. âthatâs your superpower.â
jay peeked over your shoulder. ânoâitâs our curse.â
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 wouldnât have you any other way.
Variety show Legend
knowing bros filming
you sat nervously in your uniform outfit while the hosts fired questions.
ây/n, introduce yourself!â kang ho-dong said.
you grinned. âěë íě¸ě⌠iâm y/n⌠maknae of enhypen⌠iâm⌠17 years old⌠and⌠i like⌠chicken?â
the entire cast burst out laughing. lee soo-geun banged the desk. âdid she just say she likes chicken?â
sunoo was already crying with laughter. âyes, thatâs her fun fact.â
later, they asked you to do aegyo in korean, and you panicked:
âoppa⌠ěŹëí´âŚ uh⌠very much!â
they had to stop filming for five minutes because everyone, including the staff, couldnât breathe from laughing.
idol radio
dj: ây/n-ssi, whatâs your favorite song right now?â
you: âuhh⌠honestly? itâs⌠um⌠âattentionâ by newjeans. the beat is⌠ë돴⌠catchy. and the chorus⌠makes me⌠dance crazy.â
jay leaned into the mic, deadpan: âtranslation: she loves the beat, itâs catchy, and it makes her dance a lot.â
dj: âah, subtitles for y/n again.â
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.
âěźěźěź!! not there!â heeseung shouted, dragging you to the right spot.
you pouted. âsorry, my brain⌠lagged.â
the hosts laughed so hard they replayed your âbrain lagâ moment three times on screen with big comic captions: âlagging maknae.exe.â
then came the korean quiz segment.
host: ây/n, say âi will eat delicious foodâ in korean.â
you: ââŚě ë⌠ë§ěë⌠ěě⌠eat.â
everyone: explodes.
ni-ki clapped like a seal. âlegendary answer!â
the hosts literally announced, âthis is a new dialect. we will call it y/n-ese.â
closing chaos
a month later, clips of you on these shows went viral internationally. fans edited together a whole ây/n variety show compilationâ with subtitles. the title? âthe girl who made subtitles mandatory.â
during a live, you read a comment: ây/n, your subtitles are our favorite thing.â
you laughed. âmaybe⌠one day⌠iâll be⌠fluent⌠and no subtitles needed!â
jungwon glanced at the camera. âdonât worry. weâll still tease her even when sheâs fluent.â
jay added, smirking: âyeah, subtitles or not, sheâs our baby.â
and honestly? you didnât mind. because whether in english, korean, or your chaotic mix of bothâenhypen understood you better than anyone.
