Chapter Text
Being the youngest Toretto sibling had its unique perks, and it certainly came with a blend of freedom and restrictions. (Y/N) grew up with her older siblings, Mia and Dom, each shaping her world in their own way. Mia took on the role of mentor and friend, guiding (Y/N) through the maze of growing up with all the charm and warmth of a big sister. They spent countless weekends together, with Mia taking her to the mall, filling the hours with advice on everything from clothes to handling the inevitable boy problems. Mia had a knack for helping (Y/N) navigate those things that only sisters really understand, and for a while, those outings felt like an escape from the roar of engines and grease-stained days at the garage.
Dom, on the other hand, was a different story. He loved his youngest sister fiercely, and that love came with layers of rules and restrictions. Dom was as protective as he was stubborn, especially when it came to anything involving cars or racing. Growing up in a world where cars were life, (Y/N) naturally gravitated toward them, but Dom kept her away from the core of that life. In his eyes, she deserved a different future, one beyond the oil-streaked wrenches and late-night races. Instead, he pushed her to pursue an education, insisting that she attend university. For Dom, that was the only way he’d feel she was truly safe and had the opportunity to make her own path, a path away from the dangers he knew all too well.
Mia, though, saw the spark in (Y/N)’s eyes whenever she talked about cars and motorbike. She noticed how (Y/N) would hang around the shop, watching the others work, itching to do more than just observe. So, Mia became her silent advocate, nudging Dom here and there, planting the idea that maybe their youngest sibling should be allowed to help in the shop. Maybe even let her build her own motorbike, something she could call hers without crossing the line into racing. Eventually, Dom relented; it was hard for him to say no to his little sisters, especially when Mia teamed up with (Y/N). He set his boundaries, though: working on cars was fine, or motorbike but racing? That was off-limits. And (Y/N) was fine with that—she loved the work, the satisfaction of piecing together an engine, tuning parts, or handling the coding for car electronics. Racing was a world apart, something that held no appeal for her. She found her joy in the mechanics, in understanding how things worked and seeing her own progress on the cars she worked on.
With her family’s support, (Y/N) went on to study at university, following Dom’s hopes for her to find a career that would take her beyond the garage. She became a veterinarian and now works in a small local clinic, dedicating her days to helping animals. The world of cars is still close; she often stops by the garage to help out or tinker on her own motorbike, skills she’s kept polished through the years. And even though Dom still looks at her like she’s his kid sister who he wants to keep safe, she knows he’s proud of her. Mia, too, with her knowing smiles, seems proud that (Y/N) found a way to live with one foot in the Toretto legacy while building a life that’s truly her own.
(Y/N) always felt like an odd piece in the family puzzle. It wasn’t just that Dom was twenty years older, with Mia trailing behind him by only five; it was that, by the time she was born, her siblings had already lived whole chapters of their lives. Dom was already an adult, and Mia was a teenager with a life of her own. The age gap sometimes felt like a canyon between them, a difference in experience that (Y/N) could never quite bridge. And to top it off, she looked different, too. Where Dom and Mia shared similar features that practically declared them siblings at first glance, (Y/N) sometimes found herself searching her own reflection, wondering where she fit into it all. Not only that, but she prefers motorbike more than cars in her honest opinion, being on the bike every day is like what Dom always says about cars: free.
In those early years, it was her elderly neighbor who gave her a taste of normalcy Dom would always say. (Y/N) called her “Grandma,” and that elderly woman became a second family to her. Dom saw the importance of having someone there for his little sister, someone who could give her a sense of normalcy, and he made sure (Y/N) was under her care during the day. Her grandma taught her simple but meaningful things—how to bake cookies from scratch, how to sew up a small tear in a shirt, how to tend a little garden patch on the woman’s porch. It was a quiet life, full of soft, slow moments that grounded (Y/N) in a way nothing else did.
But then, when (Y/N) was in junior high, her grandma passed away. The loss hit hard, and it left her adrift for a time, forcing her to confront the feelings she’d pushed down for years. The ache of missing someone who had been there through so many of her childhood days mixed with something deeper—this quiet, persistent feeling that she was different, that maybe she didn’t belong in her own family. There were other differences that tugged at her sense of self. (Y/N) didn’t look like the Torettos—not in the way Dom and Mia did, with their lean frames and piercing eyes that spoke of strength and quiet intensity. She’d look at Dom, his solid frame and his fierce, determined eyes, and wonder if she could ever share his confidence. (Y/N) had a softer frame, a body she’d once thought of as “chubby” and wished she could change. When she looked at Mia, she’d notice how everything seemed to come effortlessly to her older sister: the grace in the way she moved, the ease with which she seemed to fit into the world, both fierce and beautiful. (Y/N) spent years trying to find the same confidence, but in her own reflection, she only saw doubts and insecurities., and wonder how they had come from the same place. These were questions she never dared voice aloud, doubts she kept to herself, gnawing at her in those silent moments between family gatherings and days spent on her own.
But Dom and Mia saw it, even when she thought she was hiding it well. Mia had a way of understanding, of offering quiet reassurances that were like a balm on her insecurities. She’d tell (Y/N) that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes and beauty must come from within. Mia told her that family wasn’t about looking alike, or about being the same age or sharing identical interests. Family was about the bond that went deeper than appearances or differences, and no matter what doubts (Y/N) had, she was a Toretto through and through.
Dom’s approach was different. He was the kind of big brother who tackled her doubts head-on, with blunt honesty and fierce love. He’d tell her that she was beautiful and who dared say the opposite will have to answer to him. He said that she is family, period—there were no questions about it. He’d tell her stories about their father, about the legacy and strength that ran in her veins. “You’ve got the heart of a Toretto,” he’d say, looking at her like that settled everything. And, in some way, it did. Over time, (Y/N) began to let go of the doubts that once weighed her down. The bond with Dom and Mia are stronger throughout the years, because she knows that her siblings will always have her back.
It was (Y/N)’s favorite kind of day: the shop was quiet, the garage bays were all hers, and it was just her and the cars. Weekends meant “me time,” and in her mind, that translated to hours spent tinkering without interruption. She had her headphones on, music blasting, with her hair pulled up in a messy bun. The tank top and cargo pants she wore fit perfectly, letting her move comfortably while flattering her shape. For her, it was the uniform of focus, a subtle “do not disturb” signal to anyone who might wander by.
Today’s project was a customer’s car with a busted AC. The guy had complained that it just wouldn’t cool, so she popped open the trunk and leaned over to investigate. After a moment of inspecting, she chuckled to herself. The last mechanic had forgotten to remove the filling plugs from the AC unit—a rookie mistake. It was no wonder it had leaked.
Just as she laughed, something caught her attention in the corner of her eye. She turned, startled, to see a well-built, bald man standing a few feet away. He had a serious look that immediately told her he wasn’t a customer.
“The shop’s closed,” she called out, barely sparing him a second glance as she turned back to her work. “If you’re looking for Dom, you can text him and let him know you’re here.”
“Thanks, pet,” he replied, and (Y/N) caught a hint of an accent, British maybe? She pulled her headphones down, more curious now, just in case he was here for trouble. The man seemed completely unbothered by her response and only leaned in slightly, as if he was genuinely interested in what she was doing.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at the screen and saw a message from Dom: Tell the guest to enter through the back door.
“Dom said you can go to that door in the back,” she replied, setting her headphones down on the desk.
“Nah,” he replied with a smirk, folding his arms as he watched her, “you seem more fun.”
(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, surprised by his easy confidence. “Tell me, pet, what got you laughing?” he asked, his voice laced with intrigue.
Clearing her throat, she shrugged, a small smile returning. “Whoever worked on this last forgot to pull the AC plugs after filling it. That’s why it leaked.” She glanced at him, amused at the oversight, and he seemed to find it entertaining, too.
Before he could respond, the door opened, and Dom walked in, his eyes instantly locking onto the stranger with a hard expression. “You lost Shaw?” he asked, his deep voice carrying a subtle threat.
Shaw, as (Y/N) now guessed the man’s name must be, met Dom’s gaze without flinching. “I was just asking her what’s going on with this car,” he replied smoothly, barely a hint of defensiveness in his voice.
Oblivious to the tension between the two men, (Y/N) looked up at Dom, eyes bright with excitement. “Amore, you’re not gonna believe this—come see what they did with the AC here,” she said eagerly, waving him over. Dom’s expression softened as he joined her, listening patiently as she explained the mechanic’s mistake. When she finished, he gave her a fond smile and a gentle pat on the head. “Don’t stay here all night,” he reminded her, his voice warm with concern.
Finally turning back to Shaw, Dom gestured for him to follow. Shaw looked at (Y/N) one last time, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “I have a feeling we’re going to be good friends,” he said, throwing her a wink before following Dom out of the shop.
(Y/N) rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips as she watched them leave. She had a feeling Shaw might be right—trouble or not, it didn’t seem like this would be the last time they crossed paths.