F1 Grid x Platonic!FemDriver!Reader
Featuring: F1 Grid – Ollie Bearman, Kimi Antonelli, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, and more
Genre: Humor, Drama, Platonic Fluff, Slice of Life, Hero Moment
Warnings: Mentions of injury, mild medical emergency, protective drivers
Word Count: 770
A/N: @just-tingz-virgo, @alltypesofanimallover, @dakotapaigelove, @alltypesofanimallover Here is the part 2 you guys requested.
PT 1 PT 3
Singapore GP – Saturday
Singapore was hot.
Not just “turn your visor into a sauna” hot, but “the paddock feels like a steam room” hot.
Y/N had spent the morning alternating between qualifying sims and sipping electrolytes like her life depended on it.
By now, everyone on the 2025 grid knew her routine:
Walk fast.
Avoid conversations.
Only stop if someone said the magic words.
“Doctor Y/N to the paddock please,” Carlos had joked into his radio earlier.
Y/N had responded without missing a beat:
“Hydrate. You’re sweating like an overworked kidney.”
Qualifying started smooth. The sun dipped. The track lights glowed. Y/N was P8 after Q1, casually outpacing both Ferraris.
Then chaos hit.
On the big screen in the garage, she caught the tail end of an AlphaTauri spinning into the barrier during Q2. The car crumpled just enough to send a chill down everyone’s spine.
“Red flag. Driver radio silent.”
Y/N froze, helmet still on. Her stomach twisted.
“Is that…?” Kimi whispered over the team comms.
“Ollie,” someone said.
Her heart lurched.
By the time she pulled into the pit lane, adrenaline had wiped out all traces of rookie nerves. She sprinted across the paddock before anyone could stop her.
“Y/N, wait!” Toto Wolff’s voice called, but she ignored it.
She reached the crash site just as medics were arriving. Ollie’s car was smoking lightly. He was conscious but slumped sideways, his helmet tilted.
“Ollie!” she called, kneeling by the cockpit as marshals began to clear debris.
His eyes fluttered. “Y/N…?”
Her voice went calm, like a switch flipped.
“Hey, you’re okay. Just stay still. Can you hear me?”
He groaned, wincing as he tried to move his arm.
“Shoulder pain?”
“…Yeah.”
She quickly assessed what she could through his suit—her human biology instincts overriding the panic.
“No neck pain?”
“No…”
“Good. Stay still anyway.”
She looked up at the arriving medical team.
“Probable shoulder dislocation. He’s alert, vitals stable. No loss of consciousness.”
The FIA doctor blinked at her, impressed. “Are you—?”
“Driver, human bio major, trust me,” she said in one breath.
Together, they carefully extracted Ollie from the car and got him onto the stretcher. His hand found hers instinctively, grip shaky.
“You’re good,” she said firmly. “You’re okay, Ollie. Breathe with me.”
[🎥: F1 TV Broadcast Clip]
Commentator 1: “Is that… Y/N Leclerc at the scene?”
Commentator 2: “It is! She’s actually helping the medics. That’s the Mercedes rookie—remember she’s pursuing a human biology degree.”
Commentator 1: “Talk about brains and bravery. Look at that composure.”
Back in the medical center, after the shoulder was relocated and cleared as a minor injury, Ollie sat propped up with an ice pack.
Y/N hovered by the bed, still in her fireproofs, hair damp with sweat and rain.
“You saved me,” Ollie mumbled, a little dazed from the painkillers.
“You weren’t dying,” she said softly, finally letting herself smile. “But you’re not allowed to scare me like that again.”
He grinned weakly. “Doctor Y/N to the paddock… actually worked.”
She rolled her eyes, but her hand squeezed his gently.
When she finally stepped outside, she was met with a wall of drivers.
Charles, Arthur, Lando, Oscar, Kimi, George—basically the entire grid plus half the team principals—waiting by the medical center doors.
The moment they saw her, a cheer went up.
“Y/N!” Lando whooped.
“Doctor Y/N in the flesh!” Logan added.
Even Max clapped her on the shoulder. “Not gonna lie… that was badass.”
Toto approached, expression a mix of stern and proud. “You’re lucky the FIA didn’t drag you away. But… you handled that like a professional.”
Carlos grinned, holding up a bottle of water like a trophy. “For the paddock’s favorite doctor.”
She flushed under the attention, heart still racing from the adrenaline.
“I just… did what I could.”
“Exactly,” Charles said, pulling her into a crushing big-brother hug. “And you were amazing.”
[📸: Paddock Photographer]
[Photo of Y/N in her fireproofs outside the medical center, helmet under her arm, smiling tiredly as Ollie gives her a thumbs-up from the bed behind her.]
Caption: Singapore’s real MVP.
#DoctorY/N #rookiehero #f1family
That night, the Mercedes team quietly stitched “Dr. Y/N – Emergency Response Unit” into the inside of her race suit.
Because from that day on, she wasn’t just the rookie.
She was the paddock’s heartbeat.
End.
A/N: If you want, I can make a Part 3 where the grid literally starts calling her over the radio mid-race for every tiny problem, and the FIA has to step in because she’s basically the unofficial paddock medic.
Do you want me to make that chaotic and funny Part 3 next?
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.
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It’s been an utterly manic week this week thanks to Goodwood and the British GP but I wouldn’t have it any other way! Spent the weekend on the stand at Goodwood working, chatting to the public and some of the drivers too before heading up to Silverstone yesterday for what could only be described as a day from my dreams. Going around the motorhome, pit, and garage. Team kit now sent to be washed while I get to stand down for the weekend and actually enjoy the British GP. I cannot believe this is my job!
Formula 1 Grid x Driver!Reader (Platonic)
ft. Gen Z reader, chaotic slang, Lulu bag supremacy, Max being confused, Charles being emotionally unstable
🔢 Part 3 of a multi-post fic series — goal is 10k+ words
🎧 vibe check: “Did Something Bad” by Taylor Swift (but like a nightcore version lol)
📍 Silverstone, Quali + Race Weekend
🧃 Word count (part 3): 847
📎 previous parts: Part 1 | Part 2
🧢 tag list: chaos, found family, F1 x platonic!reader, media interviews, group chats, roasting the entire grid, Gen Z slander
A/N: @omgsuperstarg Here it is
🏎️ CHAPTER 3: “Delulu Is the Solulu”
In which you roast the grid on live TV, Charles learns what “delulu” means, and Max contemplates retirement (again).
Saturday – Grid Walk Chaos
Silverstone Circuit
You’ve got your headphones on. Again.
Your pre-quali playlist today is a mix of sped-up hyperpop edits and one suspiciously aggressive Doja Cat song. Your walk to the grid is more of a strut. Lulu bag slung across your chest. Hood up. Giant sunglasses. A menace to society.
And then someone hands you a mic.
Bad idea.
F1TV Crew Member (nervously): “Y/N, can you join us for a quick grid walk segment? Just a few fun driver roasts?”
You smile. “Say less.”
You turn to the camera like you’re a TikTok influencer on live.
—
🎥 CLIP: “Y/N ROASTS THE 2025 GRID (AGAIN)”
(2.7M views in 4 hours)
🎤 You (to camera): “OKAY so I’m gonna give you a ✨vibe check✨ of everyone’s Spotify Wrapped based on nothing but their energy.”
🧢 Lando Norris:
“His top genre is definitely something like ‘future garage house-core sad-boy ambient.’ And his #1 song is that weird frog noise remix that’s like ‘wub wub wub’.”
👔 George Russell:
“He listens to classical music and calls it ‘relaxing’ but we all know he’s plotting world domination.”
💄 Charles Leclerc:
“Definitely Taylor Swift. But like...the break-up albums. Charles has cried to ‘All Too Well (10 Minute Version)’ and I will not be taking questions.”
🎮 Max Verstappen:
“His top song is the F1 theme. On repeat. He is the villain soundtrack.”
🥹 Oscar Piastri:
“Lofi hip hop to study and dissociate to. He’s just trying to survive.”
🍣 Yuki Tsunoda:
“Anime intros and Gordon Ramsay yelling.”
🌶️ Carlos Sainz:
“Reggaeton. But like only Bad Bunny. And he doesn’t know the lyrics. He just vibes.”
😌 Pierre Gasly:
“R&B. Slow jams. I don’t know how I know. I just know.”
💀 You finish with a wink: “As for me? My top song is probably a cursed Nightcore edit of Nicki Minaj yelling. It’s the only thing that hypes me up before quali.”
—
Back in the paddock…
Charles corners you by the Red Bull ice cream stand.
“You told the world I listen to Taylor Swift.”
You blink. “Do you not?”
“…I do. But now the fans are editing me into Sad Girl Autumn TikToks.”
You grin. “You’re welcome, bestie.”
He crosses his arms. “And what is this ‘delulu’ thing?”
You pat him on the shoulder.
“It means you believe in things that don’t make logical sense. Like Ferrari strategy or your love life.”
“Y/N—!”
—
📱TEAM RADIO – LAP 3, QUALI
Engineer: “Gap to P1 is 0.142. Push.”
You: “I AM the drama.”
Engineer: “Push confirmed.”
You: “It’s giving pole position or hospital.”
Engineer: “…Copy.”
—
📢 Group Chat: “Y/N’s Slay Cult”
Charles: i googled “delulu”
Y/N: and?
Charles: i am...very delulu
Lando: he just told a fan he’s in his “red flag arc”
Max: he is
Oscar: we need to stage an intervention
Yuki: make a powerpoint
Y/N: can i host the slideshow
Pierre: oh god
George: no
—
🧃Race Day Morning
Your breakfast? One iced matcha, half a bagel, and pure spite.
You show up to the paddock in:
Black parachute pants
Tee that says “SPEED DEMON IN LULU”
Your signature Lulu crossbody
Lip gloss
Matching black nail polish with glittery flames
And of course: sunglasses that are way too big
Max looks at you and sighs.
“Do you ever wear anything normal?”
You sip your matcha. “Define normal.”
He blinks. “Like…a team shirt?”
You hold up a vintage 2014 Vettel Red Bull tee you found on eBay.
“…Okay,” he mutters. “That’s actually kind of iconic.”
—
🎙️Media Zone Quote of the Day:
Interviewer: “Y/N, how are you feeling heading into the race?”
You: “I’m hydrated, delusional, and morally unhinged. So...business as usual.”
Interviewer: “Right. Um. Strategy?”
You: “Yeah, I plan to simply not get overtaken. Ever. Periodt.”
Pierre (off-camera): “This is why she has a fanbase of 14-year-olds and chaos goblins.”
—
📻Team Radio – Final Laps
Engineer: “You're P3 if you hold this. Norris behind, 1.3 seconds.”
You: “GATEKEEP. GASLIGHT. GIRLBOSS.”
Engineer: “…okay??”
You: “He’s not touching this podium if I gotta drive sideways.”
—
You finish P3. First podium of the season.
You jump out of the car, wave at the crowd, then immediately hand someone your Lulu bag and say:
“Hold this, I gotta be dramatic.”
Cue champagne spray and slow-motion sunglasses adjustment.
The crowd goes feral.
Charles holds up a sign that says “DELULU FOR P3 🖤”
You wink at him.
—
📱POST-RACE IG DUMP – @paddockslayqueen
📸 1: You on the podium holding your trophy like a purse
📸 2: Yuki and you doing finger hearts
📸 3: You captioning your tire deg chart with “she’s cooked but still slayed”
💬 caption: “p3 bbs 😌 the slay never sleeps 💅 #deluluera #maincharacter”
🧃 comments:
@charles_leclerc: proud delulu
@oscarpiastri: i’m so tired
@yourteamofficial: please stop changing your radio name to "hot girl telemetry"
@danielricciardo: keep slaying kid
@f1girlieshub: she’s so unserious and SO powerful
Formula 1 Grid x Reader (Platonic)
ft. chaotic Gen Z female driver!reader, lots of slang, many confused men
Word Count: 794
(this is part 1 of a multi-post fic adding up to 10k+ words!)
🧃 genre: platonic, humor, team bonding, slow build
📎 tags: gen z reader, reader is a driver, chaos, confused F1 drivers, gen z slang, lulu bag supremacy, baggy outfit energy, reader has a mouth on her, no romance, found family vibes
🎧 rec song while reading: "Cool Girl" - Tove Lo
🏎️ CHAPTER 1: “YOLO and Other Racing Strategies”
where Y/N shows up to the paddock dressed like she’s headed to a thrift store run, and the grid realizes they don’t have Google Translate for Gen Z.
"Y/N."
You don’t look up from your phone, thumbs moving way too fast for a normal human. TikTok brain had fully rotted your attention span, and you weren’t mad about it. You were chilling on a bean bag in your team’s hospitality tent — baggy cargos, massive graphic tee that said “SLAY MODE: ACTIVATED,” and your trusty black Lululemon crossbody slung across your chest like a seatbelt. Even your headphones were shaped like little cat ears.
Carlos Sainz blinks at you. “Are you listening?”
“Bro. I am listening. I’m literally absorbing your vibes through osmosis,” you reply, taking a sip of your iced matcha. “You just gotta trust the process.”
Carlos gives you the most Spanish™ look possible. "That means nothing."
“Okay boomer,” you mutter.
“…I’m literally 30.”
—
Your F1 debut was one for the books.
You were the first female full-time driver on the grid in years, a prodigy snatched out of F2 after doing one (1) illegal double overtake that made the entire internet scream. The media called you "electric." Fans called you “iconic.” Your engineers called you “a walking headache but somehow effective.”
The other drivers? Still trying to figure you out.
—
🧃 paddock fit check:
Baggy light-wash jeans that hang off your hips like you're from a 2003 Avril Lavigne music video
Huge tee that says “Hot Girl Lap Times”
Lulu bag. Always.
Headphones on. Music: Doja Cat or a random sped-up TikTok edit of a 2000s emo song
Lip gloss poppin’
Phone charged. Posts like “me n my intrusive thoughts 💅”
And your signature: three tiny silver rings and nails painted black with sparkles
—
"Y/N, please tell me you’ve done your track walk," Lando says, eyebrows drawn tight as he stares at your legs — which are definitely crisscrossed on the floor like you’re at a sleepover, not a GP.
You blink. “Oh babes, I touched grass. I just didn’t, like, study the grass. Y’know?”
“I don’t,” Lando replies honestly.
“You don’t need to memorize the turns,” you shrug. “Just manifest the apex. Visualize the drip. Slay the lap.”
Pierre chimes in from behind his phone: “I feel like I need subtitles.”
“Facts,” Logan mutters.
“Wait wait wait,” you say, standing up and adjusting your Lulu bag like it’s holding state secrets. “Are y’all telling me you don’t drive by vibes?”
They all stare at you.
Kimi Antonelli looks terrified.
—
📱Live Stream Highlight: “Y/N Explains the Grid”
user: @slaymodey/n
caption: “u ever look at a group of men and realize ur the only one with a braincell”
“You guys, I’m gonna say it. Charles is the main character, but he’s also an NPC. It’s the duality.”
Charles (off-camera): “What does that mean!?”
“Oscar is giving ✨youngest child who got ignored✨ energy. Like someone hug him.”
Oscar (somewhere behind you): “I don’t need a hug??”
“George is definitely the kind of guy who answers emails with ‘per my last message.’”
George: “Oi!”
“Max is just...a cat. Like he would knock over your water glass and then say it was your fault.”
Max, deadpan: “That’s because it was your fault.”
—
🏁 Pre-Race: Grid Walk
Martin Brundle approached you with a mic and a raised brow.
"Y/N, how’s it feel being the youngest and most unbothered person out here?"
You grin. "Martin, I’m just here so I don’t get fined."
"Right. So, how’s the car handling this weekend?"
"It’s giving… banana peel on Mario Kart. But like, we move."
Martin stares at you.
You stare back, biting your lip to hold in a laugh.
"Anyway shoutout to my fans, my iced matcha, and to the people in my DMs pretending to know about tire strategy. Love y’all."
—
🛠️ Post-Race Debrief
"Y/N," your race engineer sighs. "We really need to work on your radio comms."
“What do you mean ‘too casual’?” you reply. “I was just describing the understeer as ‘a lil bit sketchy, not gonna lie.’ That’s descriptive!”
“You also said the car felt like ‘a sad shopping cart at Target.’”
“I stand by that,” you say, crossing your arms. “It did.”
—
📩 Team Group Chat: “y/n’s 2 fast 2 slay”
Fernando: Y/N, why did you just send a pic of your helmet on a cat
Y/N: aesthetic.
Carlos: please focus
Y/N: I am focused on the ✨vibe✨
George: I’m begging you to speak English
Y/N: ok mr. per-my-last-email
Charles: I am scared but also impressed
Y/N: thanks bbg 😌
Logan: i’m deleting WhatsApp
Max: good. do it.
Yuki: wait i like the cat pic
Y/N: SEE?? yuki gets it 😤
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Formula 1 Grid x Driver!Reader (Platonic)
Genre: chaotic platonic friendship, gen z slang, found family vibes, humor
🧃 Word count (part 2): 861
🎧 vibe check: “Money” by Cardi B or any sped-up song on your TikTok FYP
🔗 Part 1 ↩️ click here
📎 reader is a Gen Z F1 driver with big baggy fits, Lulu bag, and lingo no one else understands
🚨 warning: Max tries to decode slang. Charles cries. Kimi Antonelli panics. Again.
🏎️ CHAPTER 2: “It’s Giving… Slipstream Slay”
where you use Gen Z slang in the garage, confuse the engineers, and Yuki becomes your only translator
Race Weekend: Silverstone 🇬🇧
Friday – FP2
Location: Your Team Garage
“Okay, so the telemetry is showing a bit of degradation in Sector 2—” your race engineer begins.
You nod, but your attention is already split between the data screen and the literal fit check selfie you just snapped in the reflection of your helmet visor. The lighting? Chef’s kiss.
“Y/N? Are you—”
“Yeah, I heard,” you reply, pulling off your gloves. “It’s giving medium-soft-mid.”
Everyone blinks.
“…Sorry?” your engineer asks.
You take a deep breath. “Okay, like. The tires are kinda pop off, but also flopping by lap 10. It’s a soft slay, but not a hard one. Mid slay at best.”
A silence so heavy falls over the pit lane that even the Mercedes garage looks over.
Fernando Alonso peeks into the garage with his hands on his hips. “What does that mean?”
Yuki appears from literally nowhere, sipping a juice pouch. “She means tire good at start, then garbage.”
“SEE?” you shout. “Yuki’s bilingual.”
Yuki bows with pride. The two of you fist-bump.
—
🎙️Team Radio Moment:
Lap 12, FP2
Engineer: “Y/N, how are the tires?”
You: “Mmm… they’re cooking too hard rn. Like overcooked pasta energy. Flop central.”
Engineer: “Copy. So... high temps?”
You: “Yeah babes. Burnt to a crisp.”
Engineer: “…copy that.”
—
Later that day, you join the rest of the drivers for media duties. Everyone’s in team polos. You’re in:
Oversized brown zip hoodie that says “I survived another day of being iconic”
Baggy parachute pants
Lulu bag still strapped across your chest like you’re going to war
Giant bubble tea in hand
Sunglasses indoors
One AirPod in blasting 100 gecs
You look like a TikTok influencer who wandered into the wrong building.
Charles Leclerc stares at your outfit for a full five seconds.
“…Are you going to the track or to Coachella?” he asks.
“Slay either way,” you say, sipping your drink.
Oscar and Logan snort.
—
🎤Media Pen Shenanigans
Interviewer: “Y/N, how would you describe your weekend so far?”
You: “Chaotic good.”
Interviewer: “What’s your strategy for qualifying?”
You: “Full send. No thoughts, just vibes.”
Interviewer: “Um. Any thoughts on track limits?”
You: “I don’t see limits. I only see opportunity.”
Charles, in the background, whispering to George: “I think she’s broken.”
—
📱IG POST – @paddockslayqueen
📸: 3 pics of you in your hoodie + helmet, Lulu bag on
📍: Silverstone
💬 caption: “qualified P7 and spiritually I’m in Ibiza”
🧃 comments:
@landonorris: what does that even mean
@pierregasly: tell me you didn’t say that to the press
@yukitsunoda0511: i back this
@yourteamofficial: can we… talk
@kimiante22: i am scared but impressed (again)
@danielricciardo: iconic behavior
—
🧃 Back in the Drivers’ Briefing…
“So we all agree that Turn 9 is tricky under low fuel,” George says. “We should probably bring it up.”
“Facts,” you nod.
Everyone turns.
“…Did you just say facts?” Alex asks.
“Yeah,” you say. “Like… it’s true. No lies detected. Straight facts.”
“Okay,” Lando mutters, scribbling something on his notes, “I need a Gen Z-to-English dictionary.”
“I gotchu,” you say, flipping open your iPad and starting a Notes app guide:
Y/N’s Slang Dictionary – v1.0
Slay – good, awesome, cool
Flop – failure, bad, not working
It’s giving [x] – It reminds me of, has vibes of
Mid – average, not impressive
Ratio’d – got owned on the internet
Main character – person everything revolves around
Side character – supporting cast energy
Soft launch – subtle hint
Hard launch – obvious reveal
Vibe check – assessment of energy
Delulu – delusional
BFFR – be f***ing for real
Hits different – stronger emotional impact
Charles reads it over your shoulder. “So when you said ‘Oscar’s giving side quest energy’…”
“Exactly,” you say. “He’s like a bonus level in a video game.”
Oscar: “Should I be offended?”
Max, deadpan: “Yes.”
—
🧃 Pre-Quali Vibes
You’re bouncing around your garage like a gremlin. AirPods in. Music blasting. Pre-race ritual: TikTok dance, peppermint gum, and one sip of Red Bull that you immediately regret.
Mechanic: “You ready, Y/N?”
You: “Ready to be the problem.”
Team Principal: “…What does that mean?”
You grin. “I’m about to give them sleeper pick with main character energy.”
He just sighs.
—
📻 Radio During Q3:
Engineer: “Purple first sector, keep pushing.”
You: “Copy that. I’m in my villain arc now.”
Engineer: “Pardon?”
You: “Full chaos. Zero hesitation. Don’t wait up.”
You cross the line in P4. The garage erupts.
Pierre stares at the timing sheet. “Wait, she’s… fast?”
You blow a kiss as you walk past. “Main character behavior, baby.”
—
📱TEAM GROUP CHAT: "slaymode.exe"
George: I can’t tell if Y/N is joking or if she’s actually insane
Y/N: por qué no los dos 😌
Oscar: she just quoted a taco commercial
Max: focus. qualifying tomorrow.
Y/N: i am focused. focused on the slay
Charles: she qualified higher than me and said “oop”
Yuki: i think i love her
Lando: i give up
Kimi: is this what high school is like
Pairing: Formula 1 Grid x Platonic!gn!Reader (Y/N), K-pop Idol!Reader, BTS OT7 + Y/N (as 8th member)
Word Count: 868 words
Genre: Platonic, Wholesome, Slice of Life, RPF/Real People Fanfiction
Pronouns: Gender-neutral (they/them)
Timeline: Formula 1 season, Monza Grand Prix
Warnings: None, just fluff and chaotic driver energy
You had the world’s biggest stages in the palm of your hand and somehow still found time to obsess over aerodynamics.
It was supposed to be a break year.
With Jin, J-Hope, RM, SUGA, Jimin, V, and Jungkook all enlisted in the military, HYBE had insisted you take time for yourself. Travel, rest, write music. Not that anyone ever expected you to write a global summer hit about Formula 1.
But there it was—
"Ferrari (페라리)"
A synth-heavy, bass-dropping, borderline techno K-pop anthem with lyrics all about speed, chassis, turbo engines, red flags, and emotional heartbreak disguised as a racing metaphor. It charted #1 in 12 countries within 48 hours.
You didn’t even mean for it to blow up. You just missed the racetrack.
Your obsession with F1 wasn’t new. BTS fans already knew about it—there were compilation videos of you doing deep dives into carbon fiber strength on V-Lives and explaining the 2022 porpoising crisis on Weverse.
But when you were offered to perform "Ferrari" live at the Italian Grand Prix in Monza?
Yeah. That made it real.
The sun was setting over the paddock, golden rays kissing the tops of every team garage, the scent of fresh rubber and motor oil oddly comforting. You stood next to your performance tent near the Ferrari hospitality suite, still breathless from your soundcheck.
Someone cleared their throat.
You turned around to see Charles Leclerc.
"Hi," he smiled, hands in his fire suit pockets. "You’re Y/N, right? The one who sings about my car."
You grinned. "Only if you’re the one who drives like heartbreak."
He laughed, shoulders relaxing. "Touché. Can I say something slightly crazy?"
You tilted your head. "Go for it."
"I watched your MV four times. I was trying to figure out if you actually understood the ERS system or if it was just for the lyrics."
You blinked. "I built my own PC. I modded it with an F1 sim wheel. I’ve been watching telemetry since 2019."
He looked visibly impressed. "D'accord. That’s legit."
"Ask me anything."
Charles raised an eyebrow. "Okay, what’s the weight limit on a 2025 car, including the driver?"
"798 kilos. Unless you’re Lance and brought a baguette onboard."
Behind you, Lewis Hamilton burst out laughing. Apparently, he’d been listening in.
It didn’t take long for the rest of the drivers to find you.
Franco Colapinto was the first to ask for a selfie. "My sister is ARMY. She’s going to cry when she sees this."
Isack Hadjar tried to keep it cool. "So, you, uh, like the Red Bull aero this year?"
"Downforce balance is solid but the floor edge design might be too exposed," you replied casually.
He blinked. "Wait. How do you know that?"
Ollie Bearman came running, dragging Kimi Antonelli behind him. "I told you she knew! She predicted Ferrari’s tire strategy last week!"
You laughed, palms up. "What can I say? I study."
Logan Sargeant stared in awe. "Are you secretly an engineer disguised as a K-pop idol?"
"I mean, music and motorsport both require rhythm."
"Fair."
You’d barely made it to the performance stage before Esteban Ocon stopped you with a question about fuel flow limits. Lando Norris wanted to know what mic brand you used. Fernando Alonso asked for your thoughts on Honda’s engine revival.
The performance itself? Electric. You danced in a custom red racing suit-dress hybrid with Ferrari’s prancing horse stitched on your boots. Pyrotechnics flared behind you as you hit the high note in "Shift me into overdrive, love’s a redline I can’t survive".
Half the pit wall was filming.
After the performance, you found yourself on a bean bag in the McLaren motorhome, legs curled up under you as Oscar Piastri handed you a juice box. "You’re honestly one of us."
"An honorary driver?"
"More like a paddock gremlin. The best kind."
Kimi Antonelli flopped beside you. "If I ever forget the diff settings, I’m calling you."
You grinned. "My fee is one lap in the sim rig."
Carlos Sainz walked by and laughed. "She’s gonna take all our seats."
You had dinner in the Mercedes motorhome that night. Toto Wolff pulled up a chair across from you.
"So. BTS. F1. Hit songs. And you still managed to know the difference between toe angle and camber."
"My brain’s weird," you said with a shrug.
"Your brain is brilliant. You remind me of someone."
You tilted your head.
He smiled. "My daughter, before she started lecturing me on downforce at the age of eight."
You chuckled. "I memorized Ferrari’s engine layout before I could read."
You didn’t expect to become a regular in the paddock.
But weeks later, there you were: dropping by the simulator at Red Bull’s factory, FaceTiming George Russell to argue about tire deg, playing Mario Kart with Lance Stroll during a rain delay, sitting on a stack of tires next to Zhou Guanyu as he translated Chinese F1 slang for your next single.
They’d pulled you into their chaos.
And somehow, you fit perfectly.
Your next solo track?
It was called "Chicane".
Lewis smiled when he heard the demo. "You know, Y/N, you might just be the fastest pop star alive."
Genre: Fluff, Found Family, Humor, Female Empowerment, Slice of Life
Word Count: 870
[Header:] 🖤📸💅🏽From Runway to Paddock: F1's Newest Obsession? Y/N Colapinto💅🏽📸🖤
They called her the Vogue Venus.
Y/N Colapinto was known in every fashion capital across the globe. Whether it was Balenciaga's haute couture runway or a moody Paris photoshoot with Louis Vuitton, she was the face. The world saw her as the soft-spoken twin of rising Formula 1 driver Franco Colapinto—a model, a darling of the fashion elite, and the muse of brands from Tory Burch to Miu Miu.
But nobody knew she could identify a front wing's downforce potential from a glance.
And they definitely didn’t know she subscribed to F1TechWeekly and spent her weekends watching race replays at 0.5x speed to study floorboard designs.
Race Day - Argentina GP - Franco's Home Race
"Y/N! Over here, look this way!"
"Who's your dress by today? Balmain again?"
"Rumors are you're in talks to walk for Chanel next season, can you confirm?!"
She smiled politely, oversized sunglasses hiding the fact that her eyes were darting around for the Aston garage.
"No comment," she replied sweetly, offering a wave and a subtle duck behind one of the security barriers.
As she moved deeper into the paddock, her heels clicked against the smooth concrete—but she wasn’t looking for a photo op. She was looking for DRS talk. Aero package updates. Someone who could show her the undertray modifications for the weekend.
She pulled off her shades and swapped them for a pair of paddock-issued safety glasses she tucked in her purse, adjusting the laminated pass around her neck.
Time to disappear from the spotlight and become just another nerdy girl in love with cars.
Mercedes Garage
"Is that... wait, isn't that Franco's sister?"
"The model? The Vogue girl?"
Ollie Bearman blinked as Y/N leaned casually over one of the pit lane dividers, staring intently at a mechanic fitting on the rear wing.
"You changed the beam wing this race, didn’t you? I saw you ran a different profile in Monaco," she said, pointing with two perfectly-manicured fingers.
The engineer did a double take.
"Uh—yeah. You're right. Slightly higher angle this time to balance the grip loss."
Kimi Antonelli stifled a grin.
"Wait, you know about beam wings?"
She smirked. "I follow the FIA technical directives like bedtime stories."
Kimi let out a laugh. "That's metal."
Ferrari Hospitality
Charles Leclerc sat with a cappuccino, scrolling through his phone.
"Bro, you're going viral again," Isack Hadjar said, sliding into the seat beside him and flipping his iPad around.
A clip was circulating of Y/N Colapinto in the paddock, crouched beside a mechanic with grease on her Dior sleeves, pointing at the brake ducts and asking questions.
The caption? "Supermodel or Supernerd? Either way, she eats."
The comments were a riot:
"How does she look THAT good asking about tire blankets???"
"She’s giving… F1 Princess Diaries reveal."
"YES QUEEN. Get that downforce."
Charles chuckled. "She’s cooler than Franco."
Isack agreed. "Don't tell him I said that."
McLaren Garage
"Hey, you're Y/N, right?" Lando called out as she peeked into the McLaren garage.
She turned around, beaming. "Hi! Yes, sorry, just wanted to look at the new front wing. It looked different in FP2."
Oscar Piastri blinked. "You noticed that?"
"Slight change in the endplate curvature. I think you're playing with airflow over the tires, no?"
Lando whistled. "I thought you were here for fashion week."
She rolled her eyes. "I am the fashion week. But this is more fun."
Oscar handed her a headset. "Stick around. You're more qualified than some of the journalists."
Online Reaction
The internet did what the internet does best: freaked out.
"Y/N Colapinto, twin to F1 rookie Franco, is not just a model but apparently a full-on motorsport savant."
"Are we about to witness a runway girl become the next female technical director in motorsport?"
"Why does she know more about diffusers than half the grid?"
"This is what women in STEM look like."
"Her Dior got brake dust on it and she didn’t even flinch. ICON."
But Y/N didn't care about the headlines.
When she was in the paddock, all that mattered was the smell of the tires, the hum of the garage, and the sweet symphony of torque and telemetry.
A Moment with Franco
Franco found her sitting on a stack of unused tires behind the Williams garage, eating an empanada with brake dust on her sleeve.
"You know," he said, dropping down beside her, "you're more famous than me right now."
"That’s because I look better in carbon fiber."
He laughed.
"People are talking. Like, 'how can a runway queen also be into motorsport?'"
She wiped her mouth with a napkin.
"They can keep talking. I’ll keep learning."
He bumped his shoulder into hers. "You know, I wouldn’t mind if you did this for real one day. You’re kind of brilliant."
She smirked. "Maybe I will. After I walk for Gucci in Milan."
Epilogue
Later that weekend, she posted a picture.
Caption: Face full of grease. Heart full of horsepower.
The F1 world never looked at Y/N Colapinto the same again.
And she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Reblog if you believe girls can love fashion and floor diffusers. ❤️🏎
[Author’s Note:] I just think Y/N being a high fashion model with secret motorsport obsessions is the perfect combo of slay and slay harder. Also, Franco is the best twin ever. Let me know if you want a part two where she guest hosts an F1 Tech Show!!
