Thin Walls - Sebastian Vettel X Reader

I don't know if you're accepting writing requests, but I thought about it just now.

I don't know if you know that people are talking about Sebastian's “possible return” in 2025 with Mercedes. So I thought you could write part 3 of "a shared story"? Sort of like if the two of them came back, their son appeared. Anyway, it's up to you to write, that's all that came to mind.

A SHARED HISTORY: THE RETURN| S.VETTEL

Pairing; Sebastian Vettel x Wife!driver!reader

Summary; With the news of Lewis moving to Ferrari in 2025, the formula one world is in chaos and Mercedes is left to find a driver, why not ask their for their best to return?

Warnings; Lewis is perceived as a bit of a dick.

F1 Master List , Part 1, Part 2

When something was a constant in your life for so long it was hard to part with the routines that came with it which is why Y/N found herself in her and Seb’s home gym at five in the morning even over a year after retiring and only a few months after having a baby.

It was working well in her favour though because with the addition of the working out she did during her pregnancy she pretty much had her body back the way it was pre-baby.

She was scrolling through her phone to try and find a song to start her workout with when she got a notification from her f1 app and her face dropped as she clicked on it.

LEWIS HAMILTON TO JOIN FERRARI IN 2025

The message filled her screen as she simply stared in shock.

Workout forgotten, Y/N turned around and ran up the stairs. "Seb."

She jumped on their bed and aggressively shook him, "Sebastian, wake up!" She whisper shouted, not wanting to wake the baby. "Sebastian!"

He turned his head over to look up at her with half-closed eyes, "what time is it?" He muttered.

"Who cares? Lewis is moving to Ferrari."

That woke him right up, he pulled the top half of his body into a sitting position and forced his eyes fully open, looking at Y/N in disbelief. "What?"

"It’s everywhere, he’s driving for them in 2025."

Seb continued to look at her in shock, "Is he okay? How could he be so stupid?"

His words struck something within Y/N, knowing how rough her husbands time at Ferrari had been, how she had watched his demeanour shrink throughout the years he spent there, how guilty she felt winning near enough every race whilst the love of her life felt like he was getting nowhere.

It also caused her to think about Lewis himself and the things he had said about his team last season, as though Mercedes hadn’t made him who he was and now he was leaving after one particularly rough season. "Apparently he only told the team two days ago," she muttered.

"No," Seb uttered, not believing that Lewis would tell the team only two days before the entire world knew. "Poor Carlos," he added, knowing how Ferrari treated their drivers when they had found a replacement for them.

"You’d think Lewis wouldn’t have taken that seat considering he knows how toxic that environment is, I hope he doesn’t think he’ll be number one driver just because of his experience," Y/N thought aloud.

"He’ll be very disappointed if that’s what he does think," Seb scoffed, the resentment he felt towards Ferrari breaking through, it was hard not to with not only the way they treated him but the way the fans did too. Their refusal to accept that he was in fact not the problem but it’s in fact the poor communication and leadership within the team.

"I think I’ll ring Toto later, it’s four am in England right now, I doubt he’d be impressed if I rang him now." Y/N smirked.

Sebastian smiled "He’ll probably be up with the news being released."

Y/N hummed in agreement before reaching up to push Seb’s hair back from his forehead, "I’m going to go start this workout before Ansel wakes up, you can go back to sleep, sorry for waking you," she leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips.

"It’s okay, liebe." Sebastian laid back down and watched Y/N walk out the their bedroom, there was no chance he was going back to sleep now that she’d woken him up but she didn’t have to know that.

Later in the day.

"Hi, baby!" Y/N cooed to her son who she held in up in the air, loving the loud uncontrollable giggles that he let out. In the past two and a half months he hasn’t lost those beautiful blonde curls he got from Sebastian, bright white coils sprouted in every direction and with his bright blue eyes, baby Ansel would no doubt be a heartbreaker when he was older.

She laid him back down on the floor and tickled his belly, enticing another round of laughter to burst from him. "God I love you so much, you’re so cute."

"Liebe?" Seb walked into the living room with her phone in his hand.

"Yeah, who is it?" Y/N paused her tickling and allowed Ansel to catch his breath.

"Toto," her brows shot up in surprise at Sebastian’s response, she didn’t have to give him a call after all. "I’ll watch him whilst you speak to him," Seb handed her the phone before picking Ansel up from the floor with an over dramatic grunt and leaving the room.

Y/N places the phone against her ear, "Hello?"

"Y/N! Hi, how are you doing?" Toto’s thick Austrian accent sounded through the phone.

"I’m doing amazing, I’d ask you the same question but I’ve seen the news and I can’t imagine you’re doing great," she sympathised.

"It’s been chaotic to say the least," Toto replied honestly, "I only found out two days ago and I was surprised if I’m being honest."

"He only told you two days ago as well?" Y/N was surprised. "I saw that he told the team two days ago but I thought he would’ve told you sooner."

"I thought he would have too but he didn’t, I’m going to be straight with you, Y/N, I am calling for a particular reason."

Y/N stared at the blank wall in front of her, curious as to what he might’ve called for. "Go on…"

"Have you done much training or simulator work since retiring?" Toto asked absentmindedly.

His question shocked her into silence for a moment before replying. "I trained all throughout my pregnancy and I’ve still been training, I’ve cut back on the neck training but other than that it’s remained the same really and I’ve done a bit of simulator work but not much, I haven’t really found the time to keep that up."

"I understand, you’ve probably been very busy with a newborn, it can be hard," Toto said understandingly.

"I think we’ve been lucky to be honest, Ansel’s quite calm."

"I’m going to be blunt here," Toto told her, "what do you think of becoming a seven time world champion?"

Y/N froze completely at his question.

She knew what he was asking but she just couldn’t allow that idea to simmer in her mind, not when it had taken her so long to become content without racing in her life. "I have a son to take off."

"I know," Toto responded, "and I would never ask you to give that up, I understand completely how he is your number one priority, you have a family to take care of and I don’t expect you to put racing above your family but Y/N, you are the best driver Mercedes has ever had and I don’t believe you’ve accomplished everything you could."

"That’s a very big ask, Toto," Y/N released a heavy breath.

"It’s for 2025, you can sit on it until half way through the season but I can promise you if you agree, it will be a championship winning car." The confidence in Toto’s voice was impossible to miss.

"You’ve already started designing it, haven’t you?" She mused.

"Yes, we aren’t taking any chances of losing in 2025, we want you back Y/N, we didn’t want you to leave in the first place. George is a great driver but he’s only been with us one season and he is not number 1 driver ready yet."

"I’ll think about it but I am not promising anything," she iterated, wanting him to acknowledge that the chances of her returning were very very slim.

"I’m glad you’re at least considering it, take as long as you need," Toto repeated his earlier words and Y/N ensured she would be taking all of the time she was given before they bid their goodbyes.

As the call ended, Y/N felt a heavy wait in her chest, the idea of returning to formula one hadn’t even crossed her mind because she never thought the opportunity would even arise and her and Seb were making their family, the family they always wanted.

She pushed the idea out of her mind and pulled herself up from the floor, she walked into the kitchen and began looking through the fridge for ideas on what to make her and Seb for lunch.

"What did he want?"

Y/N jumped and snapped her head to the doorway where Seb was stood, holding a sleeping Ansel against his chest. He frowned at her reaction because she wasn’t one to be easily frightened.

"Uhm," Y/N cleared her throat and closed the fridge. "He was just asking how we were and telling me about the whole Lewis situation, the parts the media didn’t know."

Her response set off alarm bells in Sebastian’s mind that made him thing there was something else, something she hadn’t been anticipating. "Anything else?" He asked,

Y/N swallowed and looked down at the floor, she could never lie to him about anything but especially not something this big. "He, uhm, he asked me to come back. He wants me to drive for Mercedes again."

Sebastian’s hands subconsciously tightened around Ansel’s body at the news, he stood frozen in the doorway with a blank face as he processed what that could mean. "Wow," it was the only word that expressed what he was feeling right now.

Y/N scoffed out a laugh and nodded. "Yeah."

The lost look on her face tugged at Seb’s heart and he stepped across the threshold into the kitchen and walked closer to her. "Would you want to?" He asked in an almost whisper.

Y/N shrugged weakly. "I have no idea," she replied honestly. "When I retired, I felt lost and I thought that feeling would never leave and I convinced myself I had made the worst mistake I could ever make. I had everything, I was still at the height of my career and to suddenly not be racing anymore…. It was hard, you know that, but then Ansel was born and this new life we have made it all worth it to me. I accepted I wouldn’t be going back but now Toto is literally holding out that seat in the palm of his hand and i don’t know what to do."

Sebastian adjusted Ansel so he was holding him in one arm and wrapped the other around Y/N’s shoulder, pulling her into his body. She rested her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around her boys, smiling as Seb pressed a kiss to her head. "How long do you have before you need to make a decision?" He asked.

"Until about halfway through the season, I told him I’d probably need every bit of that time," Y/N muttered before looking up at him. "Can I ask you a question?"

Sebastian smirked, "you just did," he teased causing her to roll her eyes. "Go on." He added seriously this time.

"Would you be okay with it if I did say yes? I’m not saying I want to but I definitely wouldn’t if you want things to stay how they are, without all of the travelling."

It was one of the things that truly made their marriage work, they both understood that it was in fact a partnership and would never agree to something that the other person wasn’t a hundred percent on board with.

He thought about her question for a moment before answering. "I didn’t retire because of the travelling, I retired because I wasn’t enjoying it anymore. I wasn’t meant to be a midfield or back of the field driver and that’s the only place I ended up. If you find that you do want to return then Ansel and I will follow you."

The two of them left the conversation there, not speaking of it anymore for the next couple of weeks as Y/N didn’t want to stress herself with feeling the need to make a decision as quick as possible.

February 2024

"OH FUCK OFF!" Y/N groaned loudly the minute she saw Danica Patrick appear on the screen.

Sebastian tilted his head back against the sofa and laughed at her reaction.

They weren’t even half way through the first episode before she showed up onto the screen and YN wasn’t impressed to say the least. "Why the fuck is she here?"

"She wants to tell everyone what the mindset of an f1 driver is like," Sebastian teased and YN scoffed.

"Oh yes please, let this woman who knows nothing about f1 tell me how I felt when I was in that car for fifteen years. I mean, if they want a woman, ask Susie!"

"I doubt she’d say yes after last year." Sebastian snorted.

"Yeah, that’s true," YN agreed, reaching for the remote to skip until Danica was no longer on the screen.

2nd March 2024

In case Y/N did choose to return to formula one in 2025 she had returned to her full training and diet so that she would have as much preparation as possible which was why the coffee table was filled with healthy snacks, much to Seb’s dismay, as the pair of them snuggled up on the sofa with a now four month old Ansel between them, ready to watch the first race of the season.

The entire weekend her eyes hadn’t left the W15, it hadn’t surprised her that they had incorporated part of the iconic silver design that Mercedes was famous for since it was Lewis’ last season. She had watched the launch of the car and it felt awkward for her, knowing that Lewis was leaving made it feel tense but that could’ve just been her imagination.

The RedBull was a rocket which wasn’t surprising after their success last season, she doubted they had changed much, they hadn’t needed to but what was fascinating was how the W15 didn’t seem so bad in comparison, George was driving that car as if they were one.

Now being able to see the improvement from last year, the confidence she heard in Toto’s voice for next year made sense to her. She believed him in his promise that next years car would be capable of earning her a seventh title and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t now tempted.

"It’s looking good," Sebastian commented lightly, subtly side eying her.

"Yeah it is," She replied, her eyes not leaving the tv screen as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

A month later

Sebastian apprehensively walked into the living room, smiling at the sight of Y/N lying on the sofa with Ansel asleep against her chest, her hands resting on his back protectively.

She looked up at the sound of his light footsteps and smiled before noticing the wary expression on his face. "Hey, are you okay?"

Sebastian swallowed thickly. "You’re not going to believe this…."

Y/N rose a challenging brow, "yeah? Try me."

"Christian just called."

"Horner?"

Sebastian nodded, walking over and sitting on the sofa by Y/N’s feet. "He isn’t resigning Perez next year, he’s offered me a seat."

If it wasn’t for the seriousness of the conversation, the look of shock on Y/N’s face would’ve been laughable. "Seriously!?"

Sebastian nodded and Y/N let out a small laugh, "Wow," she whispered. "Do you want it?"

"I don’t know," he replied honestly. "I understand the pressure you feel under now, to make a decision. I asked if I could think it through, I also have till mid season to give an answer."

His words caused her to smile as a memory flickered through her mind.

"Seb and I entered formula one together and it feels right to leave it together too, it's great knowing that we quite literally went through the entire thing with each other"

The pair of them had never driven in formula one without the other, if they both returned then that connection between the two of them would remain too. It was a beautiful connection that meant a lot to Y/N for a reason she couldn’t really think of.

She didn’t want to lose that.

That one flicker of a memory had solidified her decision in a mere second.

"If you were in that RedBull would it return your drive and passion for racing?" She asked softly.

Seb set his eyes on his sleeping son for a moment as he thought about her question before returning his gaze to hers. "I think it would."

"Would it ignite a hunger for a fifth title?"

"Yes," Sebastian answered immediately and Y/N smiled.

RedBull was an important part of their careers, it was where she had started out and won her first title and it was where Seb had achieved all of his records and titles.

"I think you have your answer, Seb. You just haven’t convinced yourself it’s real."

Three months later, Austria 🇦🇹 (30th June 2024)

Sebastian and Y/N walked through the Spielberg paddock, a seven month old Ansel was attached to Sebastian’s chest in a baby carrier, his face covered from the cameras with a hat.

They waved to the fans as they walked by but didn’t stop to speak or take photos because they had places to be, they entered the pits and walked past eight team garages, parting once they reached the Mercedes garage, Sebastian continued towards RedBull.

Toto Wolff, the man she was looking for, was standing in the entrance and seemingly waiting for her.

Y/N walked up to him with a cheeky smile on her face and stood beside him in silence, the pair of them looking inside of the garage to where the mechanics were working on the car.

"You weren’t lying to me," she eventually spoke, keeping her voice quiet from prying ears.

Toto looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, not understanding what she meant.

"The car," she explained. "It’s going to be worthy of a title, isn’t it?"

She wasn’t talking about the car in front of her, she was talking about the W16, the one that hadn’t been built yet.

"Yes," he responded surely.

"Okay," she nodded, only now removing her eyes from the car to look him in the eyes. "Well, I want to look over your numbers and speak to the designers because I will not be driving a car that looks like a four year old picked it out and I get to choose how the news is released."

She watched as the realisation slowly took over his features, the shock that riddled his face would forever be ingrained into her mind. "Seriously?" He asked, voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and hope.

"Unless you’ve found someone else?" She asked teasingly, knowing he most certainly hadn’t and even if he had, he wanted her more.

Toto quickly shook his head as a smile grew on his face, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist, lifting her feet from the floor as he took her into a bear hug, the pair of them laughed as he spun her round once in utter joy before setting her back down.

No doubt the media would soon be filled with suspicions and theories about what their conversation had been about and what she had said that had caused Toto’s overly happy reaction.

Just over a month later (beginning of August 2024)

With both Sebastian and YN now giving Toto and Christian the verbal agreement that they would drive for Mercedes and RedBull in 2025, it caused for both them and Ansel to make the move back to their property in England.

The summer break had now begun so it was the perfect time for them to sign their contracts and go through all of the necessary things to get prepared for next season and to get back into the swing of things.

This included deciding on when to announce the information of their return.

Both Sebastian and Y/N had given Christian and Toto the conditions that they wanted the news of their return to be together which meant a combined photoshoot and social media post from both Mercedes and RedBull teams.

It also meant that the two team principals and their heads of social media needed to work together to come to a compromise that everyone was happy with for the release.

They weren’t very happy having to work so close together but both were eager for their star drivers back that they pushed through.

It also meant that both teams were holding a shared secret about the other team.

As of right now the only people that knew Sebastian and Y/N Vettel were returning to Formula One were Christian, Toto and each teams head of social media, and family of course.

As neither team principal wanted to step into enemy territory, it left the announcement photoshoot to happen in the Vettel household.

The pair of them were stood in their living room in front of a black backdrop with their race suits on and since they didn’t have their 2025 helmets yet, they used the helmets they retired with.

Both their visors were up as they rested their foreheads against each other and stared into each other’s eyes with serious looks on their faces, preparing to show to the world that they were back and they weren’t playing around.

"Just cause you have your good luck charm back doesn’t mean you’ll be able to catch up to us."

Y/N and Seb rolled their eyes simultaneously,

"You’ve gotten very cocky after a short lucky streak, get to seven in a row and then we’ll start talking." Toto didn’t hesitate in replying.

"How about instead of comparing cock sizes, you two can figure out a date that we launch this news because you still haven’t came to an agreement." Y/N smiled sarcastically causing Sebastian to laugh at the way they promptly shut up.

"Great. If I have to listen to you two go at it next year then I will whip both your arses, got it?"

The two team principles nodded at her words so she turned back to Sebastian, who was looking at her in amusement, so that they could continue with the photos.

November 2024

It was Ansel’s first birthday today and you and Seb were refusing anything formula one today, the entire day was for your son and you both would give him every bit of your attention.

You and Seb were still 100% serious that he came above everything else and you both would remain stern on that, both Christian and Toto understood that yours and Sebastian’s conditions were that your son came first and that was the only reason you agreed to return.

Ansel didn’t at all understand the purpose of a birthday or opening presents so it left you and Seb to open his gifts but he did have the time of his life playing with all of his new toys.

Y/N still couldn’t believe this was her life. Sebastian and Ansel were her everything and to think if Christian Horner out of all people hadn’t taken a chance on her that she wouldn’t be where she is now is crazy and now she had been given the opportunity to return to the sport that had young drivers lining up to be a part of, she knew how lucky she was and she would never take it for granted.

December 2024, Abu Dhabi

If there was one thing that Christian and Toto had in common it was their flare for dramatics, both wished for the news of the Vettel’s returning to take the world by storm and so they were announcing it the day of the last race of the season which was in two days.

Barely any of the team even knew, George now did which he was thrilled about but Toto didn’t want to tell Lewis the news, Y/N thought he was feeling a bit petty and still a bit hurt from how long it took Lewis to tell him about him moving to Ferrari and just wanted to maybe get one up on the driver.

In the meantime, Y/N was going to take George’s car out for a couple of laps today before free practice and none of the team knew it yet but that was about to change.

The garage privacy barriers were up as the team watched in shock and building excitement as Y/N got into George’s car. She smiled as an immediate feeling of content mixed with anticipation built within her, her body knowing this is exactly where she belonged.

She had her 2022 helmet on so if anyone looked carefully they would definitely know that it was not George inside the car.

"Can you hear me, Marcus?"

"I can hear you loud and clear, Y/N. It’s good to have you back."

"Let’s do this then." She put a thumbs up towards one of the team members to move the barriers, gave a nod to Toto who was watching her with a blank expression on his face, (she thought he might be worried that she’d change her mind after giving this apparent shit box a drive) before she pressed down on the accelerator and left the garage.

Leaving the pits, Y/N grinned as best as she could beneath her helmet as she pressed down further on the throttle, smoothing through the gears as she increased her speed.

As she got onto the straight after turn 5, she heard Marcus in her ear. "How are you feeling, Y/N?"

"Great! Just like riding a bike." She replied, the tone of her voice making it clear that she had a large smile on her face.

"Nice to know you’ve still got it, we never doubted you for a second." Marcus told her before cutting the connection.

Up in the commentary box where David Croft and Martin Brundle were setting up for the weekend, they both looked out onto the track in confusion at the sight of the Mercedes, they hooked up their microphones before speaking.

"And that’s the Mercedes of George Russel on the track, free practise hasn’t started yet so I’m not sure if they’re allowed to be doing that…." Crofty’s voice sounded through the track speakers.

"That Mercedes seems to be driving better than it has all season, they haven’t put any updates on for the final race, have they? Is that even allowed?" Martin Brundle continued.

"Let’s see, are we able to take a closer look at that?" Crofty asked, followed by the screens on the grandstand zooming in on the car as it drove on the track. "…..that is not George Russell’s helmet…."

"Isn’t it? Who’s driving his car?" Martin questioned.

"I’m not sure, I’m also not sure this is actually allowed."

"I don’t think Mercedes actually care at this point- sorry, I’ll rephrase that actually. I don’t think Toto Wolff even cares what is allowed at this point."

"Okay, Y/N, if you could bring it into the pits now, we’re going to keep you in the car until the barriers are back up." Marcus instructed.

"Copy," Y/N replied.

The mechanics wheeled her into the garage and put the shutters down so that no one could see inside as she got out of the car.

As soon as her feet hit the ground she was embraced with pats on the back by happy team members.

George approached her with a smile on his face and was shaking his head at her. "I’m not sure how I feel about this anymore, you’d have managed to put that shit box on the second row with that second lap time." His tone made it clear that he was just joking and he was actually more than looking forward to have her as a team mate.

"I’ve still got it then, that’s good."

"It’s great," Toto’s voice from behind her made her jump and then around. "You think we should tell the team?"

"Now?" Y/N asked in surprise and Toto nodded, gesturing that she could do the honours.

Y/N gave him a toothy smile before stepping forward and climbing on top of George’s car, standing just in front of the halo, drawing the attention of everyone in the garage.

"Hey everyone! I know this season has been quite rough on you all, not just with the lack of results the team is used to but also with the fact that we all know Lewis has made the decision to leave Mercedes and join Ferrari which was as much of a surprise to me as I’m sure it was to you guys and it’s honestly been hard for me to see a lot of you feel a bit lost as to how the team can make a comeback and be on top but I do hope that next year you’ll all be able to see just how great Mercedes is and to hopefully regain that hunger because I know I’m hungry for a seventh title and I have every bit of faith that this team can help me achieve that when I come back and drive for you next year…."

The garage filled with a series of gasps followed by cheers that would definitely be heard from outside.

"…this is a finalised decision, Toto and I have been speaking all year and we’ve both signed the contract and I do hope you’re happy to have me back."

The team clapped and the garage was filled with whistles and cheers again as she finished and climbed down from the car.

"The news is going to be released Sunday morning so if you could all keep it on the down low until then it would be greatly appreciated!" She finalised before turning to Toto and George with a raised eyebrow. "There you go, no turning back now."

And for the rest of the weekend, the entire paddock could see the change in the Mercedes team, it seemed every member had a spring in their step as they walked through the track and they all seemed to have a permanent smile on their faces.

When asked about it they all seemed to give generic answers like ‘they were just happy to be here’ but no one believed it, not even Lewis who was left in the dark and when he asked about it he just got the same response.

But as Sunday morning came, both Mercedes and RedBull was filled with anticipation as the news of the Vettel’s return to the sport was shared across four Instagram accounts; RedBull, Mercedes, Y/N’s and Sebastian’s.

The world was taken by storm that morning, not only by the news of the return but also the fact that both teams had seemingly worked together to keep it under wraps.

Seb, Y/N, Christian and Toto entered the track together that morning and were bombarded with cameras and questions making both Vettel’s glad they had left Ansel at the hotel with Fabian who was going to bring him later in the day.

"Seb! Y/N! When did you decide to rejoin formula 1?"

"Christian, did you boot Perez before signing Sebastian or did tell him you were terminating his contract after you had already asked Sebastian to return?"

"Toto, did you ask Y/N to come back to get back at Lewis for leaving Mercedes?"

"Lewis said he had no idea of Y/N taking his seat, is there a reason you told the team but kept him in the dark?"

The four ignored the questions and continued their way into the track, not batting an eye at the other teams who watched as they walked by, astounded to see the four of them together.

"Feels good, doesn’t it? Success…." Christian smirked arrogantly causing Y/N, Seb and Toto to roll their eyes.

"I’d even go as far as saying we make a good team, us four." Toto added and Y/N scoffed.

"Please, this would’ve been a complete disaster had Seb and I not mediated the last year. The pair of you are a ticking time bomb."

Both team principals sent her affronted looks at her words which she ignored, once they reached the Mercedes garage, Seb leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Y/N’s temple. "I’ll come and get you later before the race and we’ll watch it together."

Y/N nodded with a smile and bid him goodbye.

Both her and Toto walked into the Mercedes garage and were met with whoops and cheers from the team causing her to laugh at their dramatics but she soon stopped at the sight of Lewis.

He was approaching her and he looked quite disgruntled.

"Both of you returning?" He asked.

Y/N shrugged. "Toto asked me and then Christian asked Seb a month later, it was purely a coincidence."

He didn’t look like he believed her but it didn’t bother her too much. "I thought it would’ve been off the cards now that you have a child."

Y/N looked at him in confusion. She thought it was a bit rude that he was bringing her son into a conversation that they were clearing having because he felt left out of the news.

"I wouldn’t have returned if Seb didn’t get approached by Christian, we’ve always been in F1 together and as soon as he was offered I knew that I wanted to come back."

"When was this?"

"I got asked in January, after your move was confirmed." Y/N replied honestly.

"You’ve kept that under wraps for a while then." He said in a tone that could only be described as bitter.

"Because we weren’t sure that we were actually going to return. It was a shock to us as well but it felt right and so we accepted. Toto and Christian agreed to wait until closer to the end of the season for the release so that the press would focus on this season and not next."

Which in her opinion is what he should’ve done.

"The team already knew." He stated.

Y/N nodded. "I told them on Friday that I would be driving for them, it’s really upped their motivation for 2025."

"Why didn’t I know?" He eventually just came out and asked.

Y/N looked at him strangely. "Because you chose to leave the team, Lewis. After today, you have to accept that Mercedes is no longer your team and whatever concerns them is no longer your business either. The teams plans for 2025 have no impact on you whatsoever."

Lewis bit his lip and nodded before walking away, nothing else to say.

Y/N watched after him for a moment. They had been teammates for eight years and had an amazing friendship through that but for some reason she had a feeling that was about to end since she was driving for Mercedes.

Had he really thought Toto wasn’t going to find a driver to replace him?

Just before the race.

Seb and Y/N were standing between the first two rows on the grid so they could be nearby Max and George as they got ready as Martin Brundle approached them for his grid walk.

"Sebastian! Y/N! Could I have a quick word?"

"Go on then," Y/N nodded.

"So, you’ve surprised us all this morning by announcing that you’ll both be returning next season, Sebastian you’re going to RedBull and Y/N you’re returning to Mercedes. We want to know something, anything about the process cause nobody was expecting this."

Sebastian smiled. "It’s nothing exciting. After the news of Lewis going to Ferrari, Toto wondered if there was a chance for Y/N to return and then about a month later Christian also called and asked me if I would be willing to come back."

Martin nodded before turning to Y/N. "After Mercedes’ rough two year since you left, do you think they’ll be able to get back on top next year."

Y/N smirked. "I wouldn’t be returning if there wasn’t a chance for me to become a seven time world champion, Martin."

He seemed to be delighted by the news and nodded, thanking the two of them before walking away to hopefully find some of the drivers.

Sebastian wrapped his arm around Y/N as they started walking back towards the garages. "Where do you want to watch it from?"

Y/N thought for a moment. "We’ll watch it from RedBull."

2025

"Okay, state your name, occupation and your team." The woman behind the camera instructed.

Y/N smiled at the camera and began speaking. "I’m Y/N Vettel and I’m a Formula One driver for Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula One team."

She then leaned forward and stared directly into the lens. "I’M BACCKKKKKK!"

Bahrain. 🇧🇭

"Okay, Y/N, are you ready to become a seven time world champion?" Bono asked over the radio.

"You bet I am." She replied confidentially.

"Are you going to become a five time world champion, sunshine?" Hugh asked Sebastian, using the nickname from when Seb won his first all those years ago.

Seb smiled. "That depends on how nice Y/N is feeling."

Y/N kept her gaze on the lights as each one appeared and as soon as they disappeared she let up off the break and slammed her foot down onto the accelerator, both her and Seb driving along side each other as they approached the first corner.

2025 was certainly going to be an interesting season.

do you regret it?

Charles Leclerc x Lando's Girlfriend!Reader count: 2.2k words summary: You're dating Lando, but a whirlwind of a night finds you waking up in Charles's bed, with a mountain of consequences and decisions to make - and realities you need to face about your relationship. a/n: some mentions of smut, but 18+ only please!

You wake with a throbbing headache, a parched mouth, and sheets that smell of familiar-but-not-enough cologne. Your eyes flicker open and shut immediately, the light blinding you. Why is there light? The shutters are set to automatically go down once the sun sets.

Next to you, a body stirs. The weight of an arm rests on your waist, underneath the covers, and you feel them snuggle closer, nuzzling their nose in the back of your neck.

Lando never holds you in the morning.

Memories of last night flash before you—a club, salt burning on your tongue with the aftertaste of tequila, hungry lips on your neck, wandering hands under your miniskirt, the pleasant ache of a body pounding into yours—and for a moment you’re fine, thinking it was just another night out, until you remember your boyfriend isn’t even in the country.

It wasn’t your home you went back to – it was Charles’s.

“Stay,” you hear a murmur, a deep voice still laced with sleep. “Let’s just pretend, for a few more minutes.”

“Charles—”

“Please.”

He pulls you even closer, kissing your neck, and more memories flash before you. He held you last night, he pulled you back together when you told him about your troubles with Lando, he showed you what it meant to be—

Safe, you realise.

What it felt like to be safe with another person. Loved and cherished. Devoured. Worshipped.

Your shoulders relax against your will and his hand finds your arm, holding you. He kisses your neck again before you hear him snore a few moments later, his arm falling limp again.

This wasn’t right. This was—

What you have with Lando might not be the best, or even good, most of the time, but this is another thing entirely.

“This shouldn’t—This shouldn’t have happened.”

Charles stirs awake, pulling you gently until you’re facing him. His hair is ruffled and you remember tugging at it last night, screaming his name in pleasure. Your centre gives a little throb at the memory. You can’t tear your eyes from him – sleepy, dazed Charles, looking at you like all he wants is you.

“We can feel bad about it later,” says Charles. “What’s done is done.”

You wait a beat. “Do you regret it?”

He laughs; you can’t help but smile at the sound. “I’m not an idiot to regret something like that. Do you?”

There’s an ache in your chest and you turn away. He clears his throat and gets himself out of bed, and you know you’ve made yourself clear. Just because it was good doesn’t mean you shouldn’t regret it.

If he’s hurt by your silence, Charles doesn’t show. He hands you some of his clothes and a glass of water with a smile. He talks about his plans for the day, too – there’s a gala he’ll be attending later, with a few interviews before that and a photoshoot scheduled in a few hours. The more he talks, the less it feels like what happened last night really happened, and you find yourself going back to it, almost as if making sure you remember it.

It started at the club. There was a text from Lando, contents of which you can’t recall, and your phone is dead on the nightstand. It brought you spiralling, whatever it was – you’d been arguing a lot, lately. Over the smallest things. He’d been staying away from the flat you shared more, too, with friends or at conferences you were only invited to if there was a need to show the two of you as a couple.

Charles was there.

It’s not like it was the first, or even the hundredth time you spoke. He was always around, at the periphery of everything going on, and you’ve seen him walk past during some of the heated exchanges you’ve shared with your boyfriend. You didn’t even need to say what happened before he was at your side, a consoling arm over your shoulder in the VIP section of the club.

Lando was the reason you went out in the first place. Have fun without me. You didn’t want to, but it didn’t matter, because he wasn’t coming home.

That was the text, you remember. Lando said he’d be staying elsewhere for the next few weeks.

“You alright?” asks Charles.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got…”

He reaches forward and wipes your cheek with his thumb, a black stain marring it.

Neither of you speak, for a while.

“You deserve better.” He doesn’t look at you while he says this. “He doesn’t—He can’t treat you right.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” you snap back.

His eyes find yours. “That wasn’t the case last night.”

“Last night was…”

“Different?” he offers. His hand makes its way to your thigh, still bare. “Good?”

Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him like this, at the memory of him in the cab, where you should’ve gone to yours, when you kissed him and asked him if you were worth it, and he said—

“You’re worth everything, if you ask me,” Charles says again. “You could—We could have everything.”

You never ended up going back to yours, last night. You drove straight to his and then he fucked you on this bed, better than Lando’s fucked you your whole relationship. When he looked at you, deep inside of you, you could tell that he was looking at you. He was present. He was savouring every moment.

Lando only ever fucks you from behind.

Charles’s hand finds yours, pulling you back to the present. “I meant every word I said last night.”

“You mean, when you were fucking Lando’s girlfriend?”

He looks as if struck. “I couldn’t care less about Lando.”

“You said all the right things last night,” you say. “All the right things to get me in your bed.”

“If you tell me you regret it, I’ll know you’re lying.”

“That doesn’t ma—”

“You wanted it,” Charles says, pushing himself across the bed until you’re against the headboard, his face inches from yours. “You needed it as much as I did. You know there’s more between us than there is between you and him.”

“There’s a relationship—”

“Sure. But the way you were moaning my name last night, nobody’s made you feel that good in a while.”

His mouth is on your neck again and his hand is slipping up your thigh, gentle and slow but determined. You want to push him away—you need to—but you don’t. You let him touch the spot between your legs, kiss your neck, grab your hair at the nape of your neck, and you let him do so with a shudder, a moan.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers.

And you are, you realise. When did it start? You’ve been orbiting each other for years, like twin suns, laughing at each other’s jokes in the paddock and during press events, but it was never like this.

But you knew. Deep down, you’ve always known. His jaw would harden at the sight of you and Lando arguing, he’d always hold the door for you when Lando left you in his wake. He’d always be the gentleman by your side.

Until he was no longer the gentleman, nor by your side, but on top of you when you needed him the most.

“Charles,” you breathe out, and he stops. “We shouldn’t.”

“Do you want to?”

You can’t say no.

His phone rings, saving you, and he backs away from you with a heavy sigh. Through the fabric of his sweatpants, you can see the bulge – it’s only hours since you had it in your hands, in your mouth.

Your mouth goes dry again.

Charles talks on the phone in another room, but you hear the grunts, the apologies, the anger rising in his voice. When he comes through you’re all dressed, ready to see yourself out, only the look on his face freezes you in place.

He opens his mouth, then closes it.

“What’s going on?”

He’s pale, now.

Some part of you already knows. You brace yourself, one hand on the door, the other twirling a loose thread in your pocket.

He doesn’t say anything, though. He just hands you his phone.

You scroll through the photos and your heart sinks to your stomach. There’s that cheeky grin on your face, the dazed look, smudged mascara on your cheeks, but your hand is in Charles’s, and then in his hair, and then his lips are on yours. Breaking news, it says. The article outlines the events of last night in a wrong, disorderly fashion, but close enough to the truth that you know it’s game over.

You’ve gone and fucked it all.

Charles holds you and you realise your knees are shaking, giving in. He guides you to the couch and you sit there, breathing deeply, scrolling through the photos as if they’d change, tell a story that wasn’t so incriminating.

All you can manage is, “How?”

“Some people knew I’d be there,” he says. “They probably just got more than they bargained for.”

“Lando must be blowing up my phone by now.”

Even as you say it, you know it’s not true. You know it as you knew what Charles would show you – certain truths don’t need to be acknowledged to be true. Lando might be pissed, but he won’t show. He won’t care to show.

“I’ve ruined everything,” you whisper.

“Maybe this—It could be a good thing. It could be a fresh start.”

You laugh.

“I mean it,” says Charles. He comes closer, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against him. “We don’t have to hide what happened.”

“Do you expect me to just drop my whole life?”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes.”

“Do you?”

The whole time you’ve known him, Charles has never been anything but sincere with you. He’s never questioned anything you didn’t want questioned, when the paddock seemed to breathe in relief once Lando made things official, the story of childhood friends turned sweethearts. He didn’t ask when he caught you preparing to be Lando’s girlfriend, to act different, to enjoy the changes between you.

It was always meant to be. That’s what everyone’s been saying your whole life. You grew up with Lando, you travelled with him when you could, of course you’d be the one. Of course you’d spend the last three years of your life going through the motions, doing what’s expected, not once asking yourself if you really love him.

“I do,” you say.

He’s always been there for you.

When you were friends. When you were younger. When there was no expectations, at least not vocal ones, when the world didn’t care for who you were.

You feel Charles stiffen, but you hold onto his arm. “But not as a boyfriend,” you admit. “I don’t know if—I don’t think I ever did.”

He lets the statement hang in the air, but not for him – for you. By the looks of it, he’s known this for a while.

His hand finds your face and you lean into it. “We can deal with the media. The whole thing. It’s—I can talk to the right people and make it disappear. Tell a different story.”

“Lando would want—”

“I don’t care. I don’t. He lost the right to you a long time ago. He never should’ve had it in the first place.”

“He didn’t have the right to me,” you snap. “No one does. Not him, not you.”

Charles sighs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. You know what I’m talking about.”

You do, you have for a while, but that doesn’t mean you can bring yourself to say it, too.

It doesn’t seem to matter, because his thumb brushes your cheek and his eyes gaze into yours with so much affection and care and desire that you realise you’ve known about how he’s felt about you, too.

Another one of those truths.

“We could have it, you know,” he whispers. “We could have it all. If you want to.”

“If I want what?”

“Me.”

This – this is what it boils down to. You can walk out that door and deal with the aftermath by yourself, knowing there’ll be no one to tell you to hold your head high as you collect your belongings, because there’s no going back. Even if the situation could be salvaged, Charles has shown you what you’ve been hiding from yourself. This wasn’t a relationship you wanted to salvage.

Or you could let him take you through that door. Show you to the world as his, kiss you like nothing else matters, fuck you while moaning your name just as loud as you moan his. You could have it, all of it.

All you have to do is give in.

You kiss him, instead of an answer, but the way he kisses you back, you know he doesn’t need one.

rbr seb having a whole enemies to lovers with his teammate!reader

and they basically have hate sex together cus seb causes a crash leading to them both losing the race

Pride & Ego - Sebastian Vettel (RBR)

Themes/warnings: unprotected sex, rough sex, aftercare, car crash

If there's one thing Sebastian Vettel can't be accused of, it's going easy on his teammate because she's a woman. If anything he pushes her to the limit and beyond.

"Y/n don't-"

"You bastard! This is a free practice and you impede me!" Y/n exclaims marching across the the garage to the other side. "If you feel like your title streak is threatened by a rookie female, then say so! Rather than trying to embarrass the whole team on the track."

"I was off the racing line princess, perhaps you need to spend more time on the sim if you don't know where to place the car." Sebastian chuckles completely uncaring of her angry that is seething from her. "You need to learn not to let your emotions get the better of you."

Y/n rips off her helmet storming away with a thunderous exit that is caught on camera since the broadcasters are always eager to capture the growing tension between the teammates.

Christian sighs looking at the German driver who is certainly amused over the whole thing.

"I'll speak to her." Y/n's trainer, Gordie sighs moving to find where the young woman has disappeared to.

Christian nods moving to speak with Sebastian since they are confident in both the drivers for bringing results and success but y/n is young, she is only 22 and Red Bull have already seen the media say they are taking a big risk with such an inexperienced driver. But she's already got podiums and is closing in on a win if Sebastian stops making her life so difficult.

The problem is that she refuses team orders because she wants to win of her own abilities.

"Sebastian, this is a team and a team does not sabotage each other. You cannot keep this going, she is not going anywhere and you two cannot keep being enemies if we want to get the best results."

"She is being dramatic and she was not-"

"Y/n does not always follow the same racing line as you and we both know you planted yourself in the middle of that road." Christian states making Sebastian roll his eyes. "She won't allow team orders even when we offer them because she wants to fight you without our interference. You could at least learn to respect her as a driver."

-

Sebastian, of course, didn't listen when it came time to the race.

"You can get him, y/n." Alex states in her ear. "10 laps left. You can take this win."

Her blood is burning with adrenaline as she goes through another corner. Finally a straight and her DRS is enabled.

It takes focus and effort but finally she gets past him at the end of the straight with the aid of some late braking.

"You got it, keep your head down and don't set out for trouble." Alex instructs while she laughs a little in relief then pressing the radio button.

"No mistakes. I've got this." Y/n promises beginning to push since her tyres of fine and can definitely take her to the end of the race on push laps.

"Sebastian is going to fight, team orders is free to fight. You can hold this."

She expected no less. Christian may like her, but to deny the reigning world champion the right to fight is wishful thinking for y/n.

The move feels like she's stops her heart just flatline. She takes her hands off the steering wheel when the car begins to spin seeming to lose no momentum before it all stops all too quickly and pain shoots up and down her body.

Y/n pants dropping her head back as she tries to ease her own pain.

"Y/n? Are you ok?"

Her body is trembling from the shock of the hit. Everything hurts.

"Y/n? Can you hear me? Please tell me you are ok."

She knows how these radio messages always sound on broadcast. She's going to sound weak.

"Y/n?"

Finally she raises a shaky hand to the steering wheel and press the button.

"I'm ok. Sorry."

"So long as you are ok. the car is safe, turn off and get out if you can. Take your time if you need. Medical car is dispatched." Alex sighs while she continues to pant through gritted teeth.

"Ok. I just need a minute." Y/n murmurs feeling tears gathering in her eyes, unplugging her radio to cut communication because right now she just doesn't want to talk. She wants to be left alone.

Slowly she appears from the cockpit seeing the other Red Bull car already abandoned and apparently having mirrored her car in the crash since Seb's car looks pretty smashed up too.

The doctor from the medical car helps her out since they arrived promptly and get her helmet off to try and give her a proper once over. They take her to the medical centre for checks where Seb has already arrived and there's a brief glance between them.

She's almost certain she sees guilt and regret behind Seb's eyes but it's masked with a frown of annoyance on his expression. Which makes her blood boil in a rage that she's never felt before.

He took her first win. He has no right to be angry. No right to be upset. He ruined her race and there is never going to be a point that she forgives him.

She gets a rid back to the paddock where she just pushes her whole team away before locking herself in her driver's room. That's when she falls apart, literally crumpling down to the floor in tears. She allows herself a few moments of weakness before making an attempt to clean up

By the time y/n opens the door to leave she's met with another body.

"I'm not feeling well. I think I'll do the debrief in the morning if that's ok?" Y/n swallows thickly trying to keep herself from crying again as she looks at Christian.

"Y/n, you did nothing wrong. He will be spoken to...he pulled a dangerous move that could've taken you out for the next race." Christian states in a tone that nearly weakens her attempt to be made of stone right now.

"I'm fine. These things happen. I'll rest tonight, debrief tomorrow and improve the next race. I'm getting that win whether it's at the cost of his pride and ego." Y/n promises cooly. "But that crash did hurt and right now all I want to is sleep."

"Ok, you go rest and take care of yourself." Christian nods seeming almost proud of her confidence and mentality.

She exits the unit and paddock in quick succession while Christian gets to the debrief room where Sebastian is waiting with the engineers and team.

"Y/n won't be joining us." Christian states simply sitting down and watching Sebastian frown.

"Is it not required for her to be here?" Sebastian questions, always seeming to want to find a reason to pick on her.

"She needs to rest and recover from the impact of the crash. You'll be able to see just how much worse her crash was compared to what you managed for yourself."

-

Sebastian couldn't help himself from having to intrude and badger y/n. Since he knows which hotel room she is in, he has no shame as he knocks on the door.

Y/n appears after nearly 2 minutes knocking and it's one because she wants him to stop that she finally answer the door at all.

"What?" Y/n huffs opening the door since regardless of it being Seb or not, whoever it is, is an unwanted guest. "You have some serious balls showing your face here."

"We need to talk."

"No. You need to leave. Stay far away from me, both in person and on track from here forward." Y/n spits then nearly growling when Seb places his hand to her chest to push her backwards and walk in, closing the door behind himself.

"If you are going to be irrational while opening your mouth, sit and be quiet while I talk." Seb instructs earning yet another glare.

"You don't deserve to be listened to." Y/n states in a tone so cold that Sebastian can feel the sheer hatred just radiating off of her body. Tears shine in her eyes as she tries to swallow back some of her hurt. "You don't deserve anything from me."

Y/n had actually started this season thrilled to be paired with THE Sebastian Vettel, the youngest world championship in F1. She was abuzz about it. A fan of his and now all she feels is disappointment. As if she was lied to because being his teammate feels like the worst thing to happen to her.

"But you deserve to be given a free win from me?" Sebastian questions nearing her in a way that she almost steps back from but his finger knuckle catching under her chin forcing her to meet his gaze and keeping her in place as she swallows thickly.

The unresolved tension and anger is thick between them as they stare at each other.

Almost in the same speed as the crash, y/n feels the next few seconds happen at such a speed that she can't comprehend anything but Seb's lips on her own as he presses her body against the nearest wall as he pulls her legs up to his waist.

"Christian says we need to find an outlet. I think I have a solution." Seb states moving to speak in her ear. "Unless you want to oppose it?"

"Don't stop." Y/n swallows thickly not even completely sure this is what she wants. Especially when her body is still feeling so sore from the impact.

Seb moves her to the bed, throwing her onto the soft surface of the bed, which she sinks into only moving to help Seb undress her. His hands making quick work of it. Then he pauses and she frowns as she leans up onto her elbows.

"If you aren't going to do anything then you can leave."

"You never know when to just stay quiet do you?" Seb scoffs while knocking her legs apart. "You will know exactly what your position is between the two of us by the time we finish."

"A lot of confidence about finishing giving you already stopped me once today."

There's a glimmer of annoyance behind his eyes at her comment but he doesn't reply, remaining silent as his eyes redirect like he's studying her body.

Now that's when the self-conscious thoughts begin to poke into her mind. A shiver rippling down her spine under his gaze. If there's one thing Sebastian has a talent at it's quick analyse of something from just looking into it.

"You are not hard to turn on, are you? Dripping on the sheets already." Seb comments making her swallow down before she feels his fingers gathering her wetness with enough pressure and touch that it somewhat dawns on her just how much she really needs him right now.

"Seb." Y/n whimpers knowing that she's pathetically needy and while she could easily handle it herself and get herself off. She knows that is Seb does keep to his word, then it's going to feel so much better getting off from someone else.

Y/n's hands curl into fists around the sheets feeling his fingertips move to brush at her clit.

"Say please."

"Don't push your fucking fuck. I'll kick you out."

"If you believe you are still in control here, you need to look at which one of us is naked." Seb hums making he swallow thickly since he's really not wrong. But she's not about to admit that. "We'll work on your manners. I can feel how frustrated you are."

"Then stop wasting time."

Really Seb had came here to apologise, he'd even felt bad but this attitude is not going to earn much of an apology. So he'll have to fuck the attitude out of her and then maybe if he feels up to it, he'll give her the apology he intended to say.

"If you insist." Seb states finally getting his cock out which is more than ready to be inside the young woman.

He'd admittedly thought about what her body might look like under the slightly bulky suit. But he has to say that seeing it so bare and vulnerable. He can't stop himself from needing to really be inside her.

So that's exactly what he does.

Thrusting inside of her making them both moan without thought of volume or consideration for those in the surrounding rooms. Y/n takes a moment to really try and adjust but Seb is moving.

"Jesus, Seb." Y/n mumbles as he pulls her closer to himself at the edge of the bed, reaching down to rub at her clit while she feels herself completely gushing around him.

The additional pressure of her clit is pushing her towards the edge. But just as she feels herself about to hit that peak, his fingers are gone and not only that but he’s completely removed himself from her.

“You didn’t think i’d make it that easy, did you?” Seb questions making her jaw actually drop. Her mind in a buzz of anger and neediness, torn between slapping or begging him. “I’ll decide when you get to finish and for someone so certain I couldn’t manage it. You did look close.”

Seb pins one leg up as he thrusts with no warning back into her and grips a hand around her throat, not too tightly that there's a cut on air but it does have the intended effect that Seb has clearly aiming for while he pounds into her.

It takes a while for Seb to locate her g-spot but her tensing upon him finding the right angle leads to him to completely abuse it. Again pushing her closer and closer as she whines eager to finally finish but just as it's about to hit and wash over her.

It's gone again.

His body removed from his own.

"What the fuck?" Y/n growls feeling her blood boil in sheer frustration.

"I think you should work for it." Seb smiles clearly very smug about edging her and feeling a victory in it.

He repositions them so she's on top straddling him and she quickly catches on that while she might have some control, he's allowing her to do this. But regardless of him having the control here, she's going to take full advantage to finally get the orgasm she so desperately needs.

Much to her relief as soon as she's bouncing up and down on him, the angle is hitting her g-spot perfect and his hand moving to pay plenty of attention to her clit. She feels finally the build up and this time she's determined not to lose it.

Thankfully Seb doesn't seem to be intending to let up on this occasion and actually the whole feel makes her orgasm smash through her, but she finally finishes, shuddering in aftershocks as she realises that Seb also came but she was too lost in her own orgasm to even notice that she's been filled up.

Thank god for birth control.

Although the asshole didn't know that.

She drops forward on him, allowing herself the comfort of his body against her own for only a few seconds.

This is not the beginning of a romance between them, it was purely an outlet for their anger towards each other.

So she rolls off of him and sighs lying down beside him, both of them in a silence and she almost doesn't want it to be broken. Ignoring him is far easier that addressing him.

"I actually came to apologise." Seb states suddenly, catching her attention in the most effective way and very visibly shocking her. "I caused you pain in that crash, I robbed you of your first win because you were just performing better than me. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right and I know that."

Y/n sighs feeling her eyes watering because it's hard to hear. Knowing it happened and being able to be mad about it is one thing but for Seb to come fuck her then apologise.

"Just know Seb. I choose not to fight you most of the time...but if you get in my way of a win again. I'll make sure you never see P1 in a race or at the end of a race again. Whether it's at the cost my own race or not." Y/n promises as she turns her head and finds he's already watching. "I don't want to go down in history as an inter-team rivalry that took out both drivers (*cough* brocedes *cough*). So stop making it like that."

Seb looks at y/n for a moment before smiling.

"I think we might have to continue this post-race sex as a matter of diffusing any tension."

Y/n tries to hide her smile before he stands up and moves.

"Do not move, we need to clean you up."

Y/n doesn't move and when Seb returns cleaning her up and handing her a bottle of water from the mini bar. She has to try and stop her heart from outweighing her brain which tells her to remain rational and not convince herself that this might just be the beginning of a relationship between them.

"You are staring." Seb comments earning an eye roll. "I can assume that you didn't fake your orgasm for my benefit then. Something tells me you wouldn't bother yourself to save my feelings like that."

"Don't let it go to your head. I'm touch-starved."

"Not anymore you're not and you won't be in the foreseeable future."

Such A Mystery - Part 1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry) 

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Currently thinking this will have like 5-7 parts?

- series masterlist - series masterlist - series masterlist -

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

Have you ever heard about the girl who got frozen? While time moved on for everyone else, she stayed trapped in a single moment, lost in a fantasy of what could have been. She’s still 23, clinging to the life she thought she’d have, the one where everything was “just right.”

This is the story of a woman living in delusion, unable to let go of the exact moment her world fell apart. Breakups happen every day, but for her, it was more than that. Sitting cross-legged at a restaurant table, under the dim light, across from him, everything felt perfect—until he said, “I met someone else.” The shatter of glass on the white tablecloth marked the death of their love, but not the end of her story.

While everyone else moved on, she stayed behind. In that restaurant, in that moment, with those words echoing in her mind, her heart suspended in a “forever” that never came.

A poignant romance about heartbreak, grief, and the lives we leave behind when we can’t move forward. If you ever wonder if you got it all wrong, remember:

“I’m right where you left me. You left me no choice but to stay here forever.”

⌞ BOOK INDEX ⌝

✎ chapter one: "love is short but forgetting is so long"

✎ chapter two: "did the love affair maim you too?"

✎ chapter three: “you kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath”

✎ chapter four: "help, I'm still at the restaurant"

✎ chapter five: "there'll be happiness after you but there was happiness because of you too"

✎ chapter six: "i see it for what it is"

⚠️ [on the making. this could change so many times] ⚠️

tag list: @a-beaverhausen , @priniya , @annaluna12 , @thehoplessromanticclub , @emryb , @hadids-world , @kaztheemyth , @freyathehuntress , @diorbrxtz , @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136 , @leila-030304 , @charlesgirl16

sweet spoiled schatzi ! sebastian v. x ofc (filipino!ofc)

summary: there’s nothing more rewarding for bel and sebastian’s patience than a gift in a form of a two-year-old.

content warning: tooth-rotting fluff, mentions/talks of infertility and struggling to conceive, adoption and immigration. made-up article at the beginning and messages in the instagram post (full view to read it clearly) uncle mick!!!!! introducing our new character: little kimuel vettel <3

note: i need some sugary content so i made this sweet little blurb

masterlist

liked by mickschumacher, lewishamilton, ginaschumacher

user1 OMG WELL DESERVED 🫶

user2 KIMI IS HIS NAME TOO 😭 i love that so much

user3 when mother is now mothering

lewishamilton looking forward to spoiling that little man ❤️ liked by belongvettel

belongvettel he already is spoiled 😂 seb hasn’t stopped with the constant scrolling through the f1 store website and telling me that “kimi needs this team’s car”

lewishamilton don’t worry, i’ll make sure kimi collects all of his mini mercedes cars and merch 😉 all for free

user4 grid’s new favourite vettel liked by belongvettel

ginaschumacher ughhhh what are the chances of me dropping by to say hi to him?

belongvettel seb says high chances 😁 you’re welcome to see kimi any time, tita gina!!!

user5 a new scuderia ferrari driver???

belongvettel seb would have to wait in the next thirty years before he can put kimi in a formula one car 😅

mickschumacher i can’t wait to introduce angie to him!!!

belongvettel i’m certain she and hi-ro will be the bestest friends of kimi!!!

liked by lance_stroll, charles_leclerc, georgerussell63

user1 UNCLE MACKIE— i might die of diabetes bc that is soooo sweet

belongvettel he was so excited seeing you mick! you’ve been a good godfather to him so far and i hope it stays like that forever ❤️ liked by mickschumacher

ginaschumacher i wasn’t aware we were allowed to do matching shoes with the little man 🤨

mickschumacher hehehe 🙈

user2 a little scooter for little seb. i repeat: little scooter for little seb 🥶

lance_stroll i’m gonna one up you next time mick 😈

mickschumacher i’d like to see you try; i’m the best uncle so far, according to kimi himself 😊

charles_leclerc i’m also gonna one up you mick; i’m gonna get the little man a tiny piano so he and i can play together😁

lewishamilton sorry guys i already sent some mercedes merch otw to switzerland so there’s really no point of trying if uncle lewis already won 🏆

user3 are the drivers just going to compete to win over little kimi’s heart???

user4 as of this point you might as well do the donut with him in the car- see how that’ll turn out for you all 🤣

Hi can I request from lab 2, a boiling flask with a sticker on it and in it nitrogen, sulphur, gallium , rubidium,silver, tin and antimony with lemon juice and fruit as catalyst with Sebastian Vettel pls!!!!!

partners in crime (sv5)

pairing: rbr!sebastian vettel x rbr driver!reader

nitrogen "the problem is, if i kissed you, i don't think i'd be able to stop." + gallium "are you trying to flirt with me?" "is it working?" + rubidium "you’re starting another cult. you bitch" + silver "i don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow.” + tin "i know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that" + antimony "after all this time and you still can't look me in the eye" & lemon juice driver!reader + fruit married couple/established relationship

warnings: seb is a bit mean to reader, hints of misogyny at red bull and 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut ft. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), angry sex, makeup sex, size kink, rough sex

wc: 3300

a/n: this was definitely a plentiful mix of chemicals (but couldn't manage to fit sulphur in T_T), but i still hope anon enjoys :P

[masterlist] [requests]

the roar of the engines echoed through the pit lane as you stepped out of your comforting blue and red racing suit, sweat-dampened hair clinging to flushed cheeks. you had followed this routine to perfection before, as a once promising young driver in the red bull junior program. but life had taken an unexpected turn - marrying your childhood sweetheart sebastian vettel had come at the expense of the seat which was once yours, falling through after intense media backlash and a lack of sponsors.

until today - mark had fallen ill at the last minute - red bull had no other choice but to throw open the door for you to reclaim your place. your heart had raced with a mix of excitement and trepidation at christian’s phone call. this was a chance to prove yourself all over again, to show everyone what you were capable of.

following the free practice session, you strode confidently through the bustling paddock, the flashing cameras and eager reporters and fans swarmed around you like a whirlwind. despite the chaos, you held your head high, a dazzling smile plastered across your face as you basked in the spotlight.

"y/n, how does it feel to be back in the hot seat?" a journalist called out, their microphone thrust forward, "and tell us what this means for your relationship with sebastian - you are both finally racing against each other…”

you laughed affectionately, slinging an arm around sebastian, who had sidled up beside you, "we of course work well together with each other and the team…" you replied, resting a hand on his arm affectionately.

"but well we all cant be the red bull golden boy,” you smirked playfully at your comment, while sebastian stuck out his tongue at you. "your wife’s got to keep you humble, huh" you retorted, poking him in the chest, "can't let that ego of yours get too big now, can we?"

he chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "with you around, i doubt that's possible." his gaze drifted to the throng of fans still calling out your name, snapping photos and waving eagerly. "they really love you, don't they? my little celebrity."

with a blush creeping up your neck, you waved at the adoring crowd, their enthusiasm infectious. you preened under the attention, reveling in the admiration. being in the limelight, having people look up to you... it was exhilarating. addictive, almost. you knew sebastian understood that pull all too well.

"you’re starting another cult. you bitch," sebastian teased fondly.

you laughed, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him close. "guilty as charged," you purred, your lips brushing against his ear. "but you know you love it. being married to the most popular driver on the grid has its perks, doesn't it?"

“don’t let lewis here you say that,” sebastian muttered gravely, “speak of the devil…”

you both turned to see lewis approaching, his signature grin wide and charming as ever. he waved at the gathered crowd before zeroing in on you and sebastian. "well well well, if it isn't the couple of f1," lewis drawled, pulling you into a friendly hug, before shaking hands with sebastian. "good to see you back in the game, y/n. those red bull boys must be thrilled to have you filling in."

sebastian rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "careful what you say, lewis. y/n might start a bidding war at mercedes."

lewis winked at you conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "oh, i think she'd be worth every penny. just imagine the sparks flying between us on track... the whole world would be talking about the 'hamilton-y/n show'."

you giggled, batting your eyelashes coyly at the suggestion "are you trying to flirt with me? maybe we should stage a mock battle during qualifying to give the fans a real spectacle." lewis grinned, “is it working?” sebastian groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose as the two of you bickered.

leaving lewis chuckling to himself, you and sebastian made your way back towards the garage, the sound of busy team members growing louder with each step. the air was thick with the scent of gasoline and rubber, mingling with the hum of anticipation that always seemed to permeate the atmosphere in the hours leading up to a race.

you glanced around at the garage, soaking in your place at the helm of the team, finally, just finally able to put yourself out there and onto the track. "all this time waiting for a chance to get back behind the wheel, and now i get to share it with you," you murmured to sebastian.

our heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins. this was it. the moment you'd been longing for. sebastian led you over to the sleek car, its livery gleaming in the bright lights. he placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "you've got this, babe. just like old times."

leaning in, you wanted to give sebastian a kiss, but you teasingly pulled away as he leant back towards you, “hey!” he called out indignantly, trying to wrap his arms around your waist. 

"the problem is, if i kissed you, i don't think i'd be able to stop. and as much as christian loves you, i dont think he wants his star driver fucking his wife against their multimillion dollar cars,” you giggled, as sebastian pinned you against your car.

“we’ll do it after the race then,” he eagerly asserts, planting one last kiss on your forehead before heading into his car.

as the lights went out, you felt a surge of energy coursing through your body. the rush of adrenaline was intoxicating, the roar of the engines drowning out everything else. this was what you lived for - the thrill of competition, the challenge of pushing yourself to the limit. 

and you had finally, finally reclaimed that chance for yourself.

sebastian pulled alongside you as you navigated the first lap, exchanging a glance filled with competitive fire. the two of you had always pushed each other to be better, both on and off the track. and now, with the entire world watching, the stakes were higher than ever. as the laps ticked by, you found yourself locked in a fierce battle with him, the two of you trading places and fighting for every inch of track. the tension between you was palpable, an bubbling undercurrent that threatened to boil over at any moment.

your earpiece crackled to life, the voice of the engineer piercing through the din of the engine and the crowd. "y/n, horner wants you to back off on sebastian," he urged. "we don't want to risk damaging the car or jeopardising our chances at either championship." but even as the words registered, you couldn't bring yourself to let up on your lead. the urge to win, to prove yourself superior to both your husband and the team, was too strong. you ignored the warning, focusing instead on maintaining your narrow lead.

as if fate itself had intervened, sebastian's car suddenly locked up, causing him to clip the barrier and sending him careening into the wall. the crowd gasped in shock, watching sebastian climb out of the smoking wreck of his redbull, your car sailing off into the distance.

you hurriedly asked your engineer if your husband was ok, frantically trying to peer into the mirrors to see if you could see any sign of him walking out of the wreckage. you breathed a heavy sigh of release when he reported that sebastian was in fact ok, and heading back to the garage, but urged you to continue on and win the race.

you were now desperate to win, lewis’ mclaren approaching faster than you hoped from behind. you needed to do it. for yourself. for sebastian. but fuck redbull, you cheerfully giggled, clenching your hands harder against the wheel.

you were going to win it.

your heart raced as you crossed the line, the checkered flag waving triumphantly above you. you had done it. finally. you had become a grand prix winner. the first woman to win a grand prix in formula 1 history. the elation was overwhelming, a rush of power and dominance that left you breathless, as you sat in the car, your head in your gloved hands. 

with the roaring crowd, you leapt into the arms of the mechanics, your name finally being shouted across parc ferme, the joyous sound ringing in your ears as hands slapped against your back in glee. 

but sebastian wasn’t there among the team's well-wishers. only as you finally stepped on top of the winner’s podium besides lewis and fernando, your heart pounding in your chest, did you catch his eye from below, a tight smile plastered on his face.

after the ceremony, you found yourself alone in your- well mark’s driver’s room, the bustle of activity fading into the background. the ache in your muscles from the physical exertion of the race mixed with a different kind of tension, one that seemed to vibrate through every cell of your being. the tension between you and sebastian was palpable, the usual banter and playful jabs were absent, replaced by a heavy silence that hung in the air like a challenge. you could sense the unspoken words, the simmering resentment, but you refused to back down.

sebastian stood in the doorway, his usually confident and loving stride tempered by a hint of frustration. "congratulations," he said, his tone measured. 

you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down, "what’s with the attitude? i drove my ass off out there. you know as well as i do that i earned this win." his eyes narrowed, the air between you growing thicker with unspoken hostility. "maybe so, but we're teammates today. we're supposed to support each other, not sabotage each other's chances. i’m in it to win the title this year, you’re not,"

“say that to my fucking face vettel. just try me,” you snarled, pulling your husband into the room. sebastian stumbled forwards, catching himself against the bed. his eyes widened in surprise at your sudden aggression, but a smirk soon curled his lips. "oh, so now you want to play rough?" he taunted, straightening up and closing the distance between you.

before you could react, he grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "after all this time, and you still can't look me in the eye. you think you can handle me, babe?" his thumb brushed against your lower lip, sending a shiver down your spine despite the anger burning within you.

without breaking eye contact, he leaned in, his hot breath washing over your face. "because i'm more than happy to show you exactly what happens when you cross me.” with a growl, you wrenched free from sebastian's grasp, spinning around to face him fully. your chest heaved with pent-up fury, the fabric of your racing suit straining against your breasts. "you think you're so much better than me, don't you?" you spat, hands clenched into fists at your sides.

sebastian chuckled darkly, the sound sending a chill down your spine. "better? no, i just know how to handle a brat like you." he took another step closer, his presence dominating the small space. "you want to play dirty? fine. let's see who comes out on top." in a flash, he pinned you against the wall, his body caging yours in. you struggled against him, but his grip was unyielding. "you're mine, y/n," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. 

"i don't want to be able to walk tomorrow. bet you can’t do it," you hissed, grinding your hips against sebastian's thigh in defiance. the friction sent sparks of pleasure through your core, despite the anger fueling your actions.

sebastian's eyes flashed with desire at your boldness, his grip tightening on your wrists. "is that so?" he purred, leaning in to nip at your earlobe. with a wicked grin, sebastian released your wrists, only to grab a fistful of your racing suit and yank it down, exposing your bare skin to the cool air of the garage. he muttered dirty things, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip before dipping lower to cup your sex through the damp fabric of your underwear.

you bit back a moan, your body betraying your resolve as his touch ignited a flame of lust within you. "fuck, sebastian," you breathed, arching into his palm. "you always knew how to push my buttons." he chuckled, the sound husky with arousal. "that's because i know you, darling. i know exactly what gets you going." with a swift motion, he tore your panties aside, his middle finger plunging deep into your slick channel without preamble.

"ah, fuck yes," you groaned, your inner walls clenching around sebastian's invading digit. the sudden intrusion sent a jolt of pleasure through your core, making your knees buckle slightly. sebastian's grip on your hips steadied you, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing firm circles around the sensitive nub.

"you're so wet for me already," he praised, pumping his finger in and out of your dripping pussy. "i bet you've been thinking about this all day, haven't you? wondering what i'd do if you beat me." his words struck a chord, and you nodded frantically, unable to deny the truth. "yes, goddammit! i wanted to win, but...but i also wanted you to punish me for it."

sebastian's grin was pure sin as he added a second finger, stretching and filling you further.

"punish you?" he repeated, his voice low and husky with desire. "oh, i intend to, darling. but first..." withdrawing his fingers from your soaked cunt, he brought them to his mouth, licking them clean with relish. "mmm, you taste even better than i imagined."

your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal as you watched him savor your essence. when he finished, he grasped the hem of your suit and pulled it down further, exposing your pert nipples to the chilly air. they pebbled instantly, begging for attention.

"beautiful," sebastian murmured, cupping your breasts and rolling the hardened tips between his thumbs and forefingers. "just like i remember." he leaned in, capturing one nipple between his lips and suckling firmly, sending shocks of pleasure straight to your throbbing clit.

moaning, you threaded your fingers through sebastian's hair, holding him close as he lavished attention on your breasts. the dual sensations of his tongue and fingers working in tandem had you teetering on the edge of climax, your body trembling with need.

but sebastian wasn't done yet. with a final, possessive kiss to your nipple, he released it and straightened up, a wicked glint in his eye. "time to put your money where your mouth is, darling," he purred, reaching for the zipper of his own racing suit.

you watched, breathless, as he revealed his chiseled physique inch by delicious inch. his cock sprang free, hard and thick and beautifully erect, the tip glistening with pre-cum. your mouth watered at the sight, and you licked your lips unconsciously.

sebastian's eyes followed the movement of your tongue, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "look what you do to me, sweetheart," he said, his voice heavy with lust. "you have no idea how long i've fantasized about bending you over and taking you right here, in front of everyone."

with that, he stepped forward, pressing you harder against the wall. his hand slid down to grip your throat, applying just enough pressure to assert dominance while still allowing you to breathe. "tell me you want it," he commanded, his cock brushing against your stomach, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. "tell me you need me inside you, claiming you as mine."

the roughness of his touch, combined with the raw desire etched on his face, left you weak in the knees. you nodded frantically, desperate for release. "yes, goddamn it!" you choked out, your voice strained from both his grip on your throat and the intensity of your arousal. "i want it, i need it. please, sebastian, fuck me!"

emboldened by your submission, he released your neck and spun you around, pinning you face-first against the cold metal of the bed. you felt the press of his muscular body against your back as he reached around to spread your thighs apart, baring your dripping sex to his hungry gaze. "mmm, look at you," he groaned, his fingers trailing through your slick folds. "so ready for me. you're going to feel every inch of my cock, darling."

you whimpered, pushing your hips back in an attempt to impale yourself on his thick member. sebastian chuckled darkly, enjoying your desperation. "patience, sweetheart," he cooed, his breath hot against your ear. with deliberate slowness, he pushed forward, the broad head of his dick parting your slick folds. you cried out at the sensation, your walls clenching reflexively around the intrusion. sebastian paused, giving you time to adjust, before gradually sinking deeper, inch by glorious inch.

"fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his pace increasing as he filled you completely. once he was buried to the hilt, he stilled, letting you acclimate to the feeling of being so thoroughly stuffed.

you panted heavily, your mind reeling from the sheer size of sebastian's cock inside you. it stretched you to the limit, the slight discomfort only adding to the intense pleasure coursing through your veins.

after a moment, sebastian began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained nestled within your entrance before surging back in, driving deep once more. the rhythm was relentless, each powerful thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through your core. "take it, darling," he growled, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. "take every fucking inch of my cock."

you could only moan in response, lost to the primal sensations consuming you. the slap of flesh against flesh echoed through the room, punctuating the obscene sounds of your bodies coming together in carnal union.

"i know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.” he smirked, the bench creaking beneath your combined weight, the metal frame straining against the force of his thrusts. you braced yourself against the surface, your fingers digging into the cold steel as he drove you closer to the brink of climax with every stroke.

suddenly, he shifted his angle, hitting that sweet spot deep within your pussy that made stars explode behind your eyelids. "sebastian!" you wailed, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. your inner muscles spasmed wildly, milking his cock as waves of intense pleasure washed through you.

through it all, sebastian didn't relent, continuing to rut into you with abandon, chasing his own release. "fuck, i'm gonna cum," he snarled, his movements becoming erratic as he neared the edge.

with a final, brutal thrust, sebastian pushed himself fully inside you, his cock pulsing as he spilled his hot seed deep into your fluttering channel. you could feel each thick spurt painting your insides, marking you as his. "fuuuck, take it all," he groaned, grinding against your ass as he emptied the last drops of his essence into your well-used pussy. the sensation of his warm cum filling you, combined with the aftershocks of your own intense orgasm, left you boneless and trembling.

“ughhhh still fuck you seb, you could’ve at least cut your wife some slack for racing you. after all, who else was going to,” you huff, trying to tug back on your racing suit, fingers brushing against your now soaked mound, as sebastian smirked behind you.

“i know you love me, my partner in crime,” he teased, sweeping you into a hug, as you grinned back.

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© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

passenger princess / ln4

established relationship lando norris x fem!reader

no use of y/n, as always.

in which the weekend takes a twist, and all you want is a baby.

prompt⋯ hi! first of all, i absolutely ADORE your writing. i’ve been reading all of your stuff for the past few days!! second, i was scrolling on pinterest and i rediscovered the lando daddy bracelet pic. that combined with THE dutch gp pic made me be down even worse for him. with that i request a fic with an established reader x lando relationship. that’s set during the weekend of the 2024 dutch gp. where he wears the bracelet over the course of the weekend and it gets you(? or me? idk how to phrase that) really worked up, and after he wins they fuck while he’s still wearing it. and it’s like the most rough feral sex known to mankind. but at the end you want him to come in you and he’s like “oh you wanna make me a daddy”. like yes it is a slight breeding kink but it’s more of the idea of the bracelet and how he definitely knew what he was doing when he wore it (in the fic and irl too tbh). that’s the general idea but feel free to put your own spin on it!! i am incredibly down bad for him and that photo did something to me. ty 🤗🧡

a/n ⋯ yeah tbh i got no excuse for this one chat...like...how could i not resist a breeding kink...i know y'all want it too. but for real--- thank you anon for being patient. i had a lot of fun writing this in between doing work. writing is an escape for me. thank you to all for the continued support, and i'll be continuing to get through asks as time moves along. comment below to be added to my taglist, or comment in general! i love replying to all of them as much as i can.

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, breeding kink, impregnation, teasing, possessiveness, jealousy, creampie, begging, mating press-- allat shit tbh. if i miss a warning, let me know.

wc ⋯ 8.5k (unedited.)

things had begun to be different between you and lando. you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the gears shifted, the stars aligned, though you only cared how good it made you feel with him. 

but he knew. he knew exactly when.

you’d been dating lando for two years now. it was two years of pure bliss— the exciting lifestyle that you’ve craved, the love and care, the passion that you shared with him was exquisitely yours. he is yours. and you are his.

that morning in the paddock he was speaking to max, chattering about the post collision from hungaroring. they seemed to make up in due time, finding it easier to call one another “brother’s” again, despite the damages done to their cars and the media in an uproar about their impish, punitive behaviors. you didn’t spare any glance towards the comments made about it, knowing that lando had been in a rough shape that weekend. 

you played with penelope, p, as they were talking, squatted on the ground with colored pens in your hand. kelly loomed behind, on her phone, thankful enough that you could occupy her for the time being. you had no issue entertaining her. you loved being around children…most of the time. 

“this one?” you held out the red pen for p, as she was pointing to with a bashful look. she was shy– especially around you, given your ethereal, wanderlust nature. you carried yourself in such an elegant way that could facilitate a ray of sunlight through the most tepid storms. 

she nodded and you handed it to her. she latched her smaller hand around it, coloring in the rb20 from her sketchbook. your hand fell beneath your chin as you watched her carefully color inside the lines, dreading falling out of it. you smiled as she did, the dress you wore crinkling fashionably around your thighs. 

p flashed the page at you nervously, awaiting her input. your eyes glowed, sparkles falling onto the page as you scanned it. she really did do a good job.

“beautiful, p!” you commented, your palm splaying over her upper back. “you’re really good at this, you know?”

a shade of red filled her cheeks, warming her skin. you hadn’t meant to embarrass her, nor make her nervous. 

“do you want to color one with me?” you asked her, pointing to the pages in the book. she hesitated for a moment, as if she didn’t hear you properly, but ended up nodding with the same excitement that she did when she’d see max on the podium. “you pick. something…pretty.”

the gears were turning in her head as she flipped through the pages, trying to find the perfect one for you and her to work on. you, on the other hand, were focused on how her brows scrunched together as she furiously searched through her booklet. it was cute the way she perceived things. she was a cutie. it made you think about your own future, what you wanted. 

what you wanted,

your eyes drifted from the carpeted floors inside the hospitality room, to the shoes that he wore, and up his black jeans to the papaya livery he sported for the day. you lingered on the expanse of his chest, the tan skin peaking through the v-neck of his unbuttoned collar. your mouth watered instinctively, thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like lando love you so deeply.

as you glanced further up towards his chin, the unshaved rigid surface that sparked electricity over your body, you found him already looking down at you. he wasn’t even paying attention to max at this point, already giving you all of his attention and you didn’t even need to ask. 

you gave him a smile, covering your lips afterward to stifle your giggle, and turned back to p once she tapped you that she’d found a picture for the two of you to color.

“mate?”

lando was lost in a daze staring at you. gawking at your figure, the dress you decided to wear. it was a denim colored sheath that you’d twin with alexandra with. she’d wear the gia dress in a pomegranate hue, whereas you took the navy. 

lando’s hand was cupped against his chin, rubbing over his stubble, keen on watching how you interacted with p. 

your relationship had progressed further than he’s ever gotten to before in his life. he was at a point where he knew he didn’t want anyone else, to explore someone else’s body the way he did yours. he knew you, inside and out, and he didn’t think another connection was even fathomable. 

you appeared to be so gentle with her, taking the time to listen to what she wanted you to do, how to color, maneuver the pens. there would be no outside the line coloring on her watch, that was for sure. 

he found himself smiling bright. 

do you want kids? 

he knew that he did. he always knew that. but he’d never broach the subject to you directly. your relationship with him was secure, but was it eligible to be taken to the next level? would you be frightened by his sudden urge to create a life with you? a product of him, and the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?

“yeah? sorry.” lando looked back towards max. but it was too late, and max was looking over his shoulder towards you and p.

when he looked back towards lando, he threw his hands up in defense. max rolled his eyes. “don’t know why you haven’t proposed to her yet. what’re you waiting for?” 

lando bristled. he waited a moment to answer, wondering the same fucking thing. what was he waiting on? the perfect time, perhaps. summer break was rapidly approaching, and he certainly had a ring picked out. 

the papaya clad driver pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos, settled on the right one, and handed it to max. the other driver took it, zooming in, not that he needed to. 

“when?”

lando shrugged. “summer break. greece, maybe.” 

max cheered, slapping his hand over his mouth in shock. “you’re serious, mate?” lando nodded. max pulled him in for a hug, slapping him over the back. he couldn’t be happier for his best friend in this moment, starting to jump up and down. lando settled him down and slid his phone back into his pocket. 

“keep it quiet. i want her to be surprised.” 

max made a motion of a lock and key. “surprised about what?” 

lando felt giddy.

you hadn’t been paying much attention to what lando nor max were chittering about. you’d been so hyper focused on coloring with p, that you were absent minded of the conversation behind you. 

p had picked out a cartoon illustration of max and lando smiling towards the viewer. you’d thought it was an adorable choice, and it showed that p was more aware than what she led on to be. she, of course, started coloring in max. with his neutrally blonde hair, redbull cap, she was fast working. 

but then she shoved the book towards you, politely anyways, and pointed at lando, who was yet to be colored in. 

“my turn?” she nodded her head, handing you the orange marker. 

you grinned, carefully coloring in the lines of the drawing before p took a deep breath. “are you and lando married?” 

the question had you freeze momentarily, taken back by her question. “no, p, we’re not.” 

you continued to color, whilst she continued to question. “why not?”

“because he hasn’t asked me.”

“why don’t you ask him?” 

“i’m not sure that’s what he wants.”

p raised a brow. she looked towards lando and max, giggling together like school girls, then back to you and your focused coloring.

she handed you a brown marker for lando’s curls. “i think you should.”

now it was your turn to be inquisitive, “really, now?”

she nodded her head without hesitating. “then you’d be my aunt!” she giggled. 

you colored in lando’s curls, carefully, diligently, thinking of how they felt beneath your fingertips. your breath hitched thinking about the thought of him proposing, wondering if he had ever even thought about it. you knew what your answer would be. it wouldn’t even take a beat of your heart to give him in answer, if he chose to ask. if he chose you. 

with one final stripe of a black marker, your drawing of lando had been finished. you stood up, and so did p. 

“are you going to have babies?”

“p!” you gasped, mouth dropping. “that’s none of your business, young lady.” 

she laughed, twirling around. “what? that’s what mama says happens when you love someone.” confident, wasn’t she? “do you love lando?”

“of course i do, p.”

she gasped.

“is there a baby in there right now?!” she seemed concerned, becoming so bold as to touch your stomach. it was a little higher than where your womb sat beneath your skin, but close enough. 

you shook your head. “no, honey. i am not having a baby right now.” 

she looked disappointed. taking her hand back, she crossed them over her chest. 

“penelope, what are you going on about?” kelly finally chimed in, rubbing p’s back with her hand. 

“nothing.” 

but it wasn’t nothing.

lando appeared behind you, a hand on your lower back. you leaned into him, recognizing his touch, and you got a brief wave of panic wondering if he heard your conversation with p. 

“p,” lando said over your shoulder. she looked up. “do you still have your bracelet making kit?” 

she nodded again, though you weren’t quite sure what he’d need it for. you guessed you’d find out eventually, because lando uttered, “it’s a secret, sorry baby.”

and he followed p to her small table, pulling out the kit from her backpack. she had taken lando’s hand to guide him, and you watched fondly. 

too fondly, you thought, and knew you were in deep shit.

the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be. 

in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.

you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress. 

relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs. 

your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other. 

“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on. 

“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling. 

and a good one at that. 

qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.

flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.

lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car. 

“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter. 

you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit. 

“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief. 

he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized. 

‘daddy’

you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. is this the bracelet he had made with p? 

lando let out a short laugh. “like it?” 

you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger. 

“wore it for you.” 

the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded. 

and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.” 

you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door. 

the following day was race day. you were dressed flawlessly, curating perfection with your outfits to match the same prestige that lando had with his fans. also, you enjoyed feeling pretty. looking pretty, as lando would often say to you. he didn’t forget this morning either, arriving to the paddock with you in tow, hand wrapped tightly with yours.

as he took selfie after selfie, signed hat after hat, he didn’t forget to remind you, “you look beautiful,” that always brought a smile to your face, a blush fanning your cheeks. 

when the two of you made it inside of mclaren’s hospitality, you were greeted by both lily and oscar. you gave her a warming hug, and she returned it with the same affirmation. when you separated, she danced on her tip-toes. lando and oscar side stepped toward the tea and coffee station, chatting amongst themselves. 

“wow!” you were confused, raising a brow. “front row for him, hmm? told you, had nothing to worry about.” 

you rolled your eyes, still holding anxieties for the race. you were always concerned going into a weekend. no matter how many grand prix’s you’ve attended, seen lando come out safe and sound, you still picked at the skin of your fingertips. anxious habits die hard. 

lando’s managers came in alongside oscar’s beckoning both mclaren drivers to follow them to get ready for the race. lando found you instantly, his hands finding the handles on your hips, squeezing inward. you tensed at the action, wondering what had him on such edge. 

you spun, hands running from his chest up to his neck, his cheeks. you cupped his face in your hands, sheepishly smiling. 

“you’ll win this for me?”

he scoffed, “always.” 

you smiled harder—if that was possible— and connected your lips with his. he returned your kiss, diving deep into your mouth. he held you close by your lower back, as if this was the last time that he’d ever kiss you. he sought to deepen your kiss by the clacking of your teeth, his tongue incessantly searching the inside of your mouth. 

you separated yourself, still holding onto his cheeks. lando dipped his forehead against yours, seeking another kiss, but you pulled away. “go. they’re waiting for you.” 

“don’t care.” 

you flushed, allowing him one last peck before you patted his cheek. “seriously. go.” 

he chuckled to himself, kissing the top of your head, uttering a soft “i love you,” before being swept away. 

“i love you too.” you mouthed, returning your attention back to lily. she was in awe of how you and lando behaved, carving such a rugged, playful boy into a man of posture and mannerisms that were only reflected by your good nature. 

“what?”

“nothing…” she looked away.

“lily.” 

“you’ve got that man on a leash,” she broke into a fit of giggles. you looked back to where they were walking out. lando had been looking for you, then at you. he gave a wave, you returned it, then looked back at lily. 

“i prefer the term ‘free-roaming.’” 

the race was coming to an end with a single lap left. lando led the race with a twenty-two second lead, and your hands were clasped tightly together with your headset on. you listened carefully to his radio messages, sassy and revving, and had your eyes locked onto the screen in front of you. with lily by your side, the two of you were anxiously awaiting the end.

your face suddenly appeared on screen, displaying your glistening eyes, perfectly done makeup and hair. a chic smile grew on your cheeks. you turned towards the camera man and allotted a small wave. your name appeared under the screen, lando norris’ partner. 

god…

was there anything more prideful than that?

surely there was, but it didn’t matter to you. you were there to support your boyfriend, lando, your lando, and it was more than enough to see that you were recognized as that. 

the checkered flag appeared and lando was on the headline for crossing. you had to clutch your heart, hoping to grip it from the inside out to slow its beating, and it didn’t cease when his mcl38 zipped past the flag. 

there was an eruption of cheers throughout the garage and you were swarmed with love by the fellow mechanics and lily, too, who was happy for you to witness such a grand victory. a more than well earned victory. 

a second one in the books for him. you couldn’t have been happier. 

the podium gathering didn’t take long, and you managed to be at the front of the barricade, shoved forward by the team. you stood there, graceful and beautiful as he always saw you, and you were the loudest to clap and cheer as he walked out from the cool down room. 

“your winner, lando norris…!” and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, the camera picking up your emotional feedback on the big screen. his eyes caught to it from the bannister, stepping up onto the tallest podium, and found you right at the front. his heart melted, dripped a red hot flame that burned for you. to see you there for him, emotional above all, solidified his feelings. what he wanted in his future. 

you. you above anything else. you above racing, his career, his everything. he had nothing if you weren’t by his side. 

he took off his pirelli hat and let the national anthem play. the camera panned away from you then to zak brown. you swayed gently to the anthem, lost in your own world of loving him. you saw him through clear glasses, though he was always your rose. there was nothing more that you wanted in the future than to be with him. you and lando. 

after his attributed champagne pop, the crowd dissipated from the pit lane and you engaged in conversations with different women, friends, and coworkers of mclaren. you were jovial with your presence, engaged as much as you could be, though your thoughts kept tracing back to him. lando, lando, lando. 

you ended your evening in conversations with the ferrari women— alexandra, rebecca, and one of charles’ friends, marta. you’re a recent acquaintance, meeting her only just a few moments ago. she was noticeably pregnant, and you wondered if that was just the recurring theme of the day. 

“how far along are you?” rebecca chimed in. 

“about twenty weeks, i think.” she smiled, holding her bump and leaning back into one of her heels to get a more comfortable angle. 

“half way there! are you excited?” you asked her, sipping your sparkling water. 

“of course,” she grimaced, though there was joy behind her eyes. “it can be hard, but it’s worth it. always worth it to see my husband with my daughter, and now it’ll be brand new with this babe.” 

you gave her a heart-warming smile. 

“they kick every so often—” she grimaced again, reeling her face into a tight knot. “like right now. do you want to feel?” she was looking at you. it took you a second to understand that she was referring to you, but you jumped at the opportunity.

“are you sure…?” 

marta nodded. “put your hand here,” she placed your hand on her right side. you waited a moment before there was a small lurch beneath your palm. you looked up at her in pure disbelief, marveled by such a feeling. you wondered what it’d feel like to feel your own baby kick. 

“so…” alexandra leered mischievously, “do you plan on having children? with lando?” 

is everyone asking that today?

you stood up straight, embarrassed by the question, and brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “for sure. there’s no one else i want. whenever the time is right.” 

“he’d be such a good dad.” alexandra added, and you couldn’t agree more.

“you should’ve seen him earlier with penelope—” the girls were reeling at your story. “making bracelets with her. almost tripped over my own dress,” you covered your mouth to laugh, attempting to keep your voice down.

“someone has baby fever.” marta commented. 

“ugh,” rebecca groaned. “you two are picturesque. alex and i were just talking about it.” 

“oh?” you wished to know more by their insinuation. it wasn’t often that you listened to anything about you or lando’s relationship. half of the time it was negative comments from fans across social media, and you didn’t want the other half to get to your head. you knew you were lucky as is, the least you could do was stay humble. 

“ohhhh most definitely.” alexandra nodded. “you’ve been together for what— ever? we’re waiting for an engagement post.” 

you were floored. it has been a good amount of time. “so am i,” it came as a laugh. you wondered if lando thought about it. if the thought ever crossed his mind— the possibility of you becoming his wife. 

it did. 

he was watching you. he’d been done with his interviews for a good ten minutes now, but he was gripped by the scene unfolding before him. he had distracted himself by glancing at his phone, pretending to be scrolling through notifications. but he was staring. hard. 

your hand was so tender-loving as it grazed marta’s baby bump. you looked up at her with a graceful smile, asking her important questions about her pregnancy. why were you so interested? 

fuck, he hoped the answer he wanted was what you were thinking. 

you, pregnant in your floral dresses, pleated gowns, traipsing around the halls of your joint home. barefoot, glowing, effervescent. he could see it now. the vision coming to life, coming to fruition from just a mere fantasy. he felt his dick twitch in his pants, his groin running hot.

he overheard the conversation, too. 

“do you plan on having children? with lando?” 

for sure. there’s no one else i’d want. 

fuuuuck. lando had to turn around, attempting to calm himself down. his entire body was aflame, an eternal gloss of bliss for wanting you. needing you. he needed to feel you. your touch. your skin beneath him, the way you curl effortlessly against the shape of his body.

yeah, he’s fucked. 

after a few calming deep breaths, he was at least presentable. with his calmed down cock, he immediately made a beeline in your direction. he wanted—no, needed to get his hands around you as soon as possible. it was a world-ending feeling that suffocated him, gripped him by the throat. 

you heard him approach before you saw him. lando’s hands were warm around your hips as he pulled you close. you felt the outline of his cock in his pants as he jut his hips forward. you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing up at him. 

his nose found a home in the curve of your neck. you giggled when you felt his stubble tickle your skin, a hand coming instinctively to hold the side of his face tight against your skin. he breathed soundly against you, finding eternal peace of mind plastered against your body.

“it was nice seeing you alex, rebecca.” you began to bid your farewells. “marta, it was a pleasure to meet you.” marta leaned in for a hug, which pulled you away from the warmth of lando’s body. you felt like a snail ripped from its shell— hollow, cold. 

“the same for you,” pregnancy looked good on her. though, you can’t recall the last time you’ve seen her without a baby blooming inside her. “if you ever need advice…alex has my number.” 

you blushed, feeling lando’s hand around your lower belly tense. “thank you. i’ll be in touch.” you glance towards rebecca and alexandra, following lando’s pace back to the car.

lando’s eyes were hot as they drilled holes into the side of your head. you could feel it, though you weren’t even looking at him. “i can feel your urge to talk, lan.” 

he laughed, holding your hand tight in his. “no. no, it’s nothing.” 

you stopped dead in your tracks, pulling your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“okay, okay,” he apologized, taking your hand back into his own, bringing it to his lips to kiss. his lips were warm and wet against your skin. your breath hitched.

“well, go on, then.” 

“this is the congratulations i get? damn, baby, you’re rugged.” 

you shoved his face away, beginning to walk back to the car once more. “you know i’m proud. don’t be silly, now.” 

“i know, i know,” there was a brief silence. “you can show me in other ways.” 

“lando!” you gasped, and he broke into a fit of laughter. “dirty bastard.” you mumbled. 

“what was that, baby?” 

“nothing. nothing. just like what you wanted to tell me, i guess.” two can play at this game. you heard him scoff, but ultimately relent. 

“alright, alright. i just…” he became shy with the tone of his voice. you could recognize it instantly. “heard your conversation with the girls, is all.” 

you attempted your best effort to still your facial expressions from annoyance, shock, embarrassment, and all of the fucking above. 

 “you heard…all of it?” 

“the gist.” 

you tried to cover your face to shield yourself from the world. god, that was your fucking nightmare. you hadn’t ever even touched upon a subject like that with him before. and now he had heard it from you talking to your girlfriends? oh, you just felt like the worst girlfriend in the world right now. 

“fuck. i didn’t mean to—” 

“no, baby,” he opened the car door for you to slip into the passenger seat. you stepped in, gripping his forearm to sit down. 

when he climbed in himself and turned over the engine, you shifted to face him. before you could even open your mouth to speak, he cut you off. 

“i want kids, too, you know. with you.” 

“oh.” a weight lifted from your shoulders in that moment, and then you felt utterly stupid for thinking that he would’ve reacted badly. this is your lando you’re talking to. a man you can share anything with. “you do?” 

he looked flabbergasted. “you’re joking, right?”

you shot your hands up in defense. “i don’t know! children aren’t exactly…temporary. i just— i didn’t know if you thought of me—”

“you’re permanent, love.” his hand wrapped around your thigh as he pulled out of the driver’s lot, whipping past the fans that were keen on snapping a picture of him. 

though you’ve known that, deep down, it still hit you like the first time he told you that he loved you. a jaw-dropping epiphany that had been right in front of you the whole time. you’d been short-sighted, enjoying every moment that you had with him, and had become unknowing about the future you’ve been perpetuating with him.

you covered his hand with your own, playing with the bracelets around his wrist. the charm bracelet ‘daddy’ dangled between your fingers, rolling the beads over and over again. 

“you’d make a good daddy, wouldn’t you?” you said the words under your breath, but even he could hear them like you’d shouted them in his face. he tightened his grip around your thigh.

“don’t say things like that,” he shook his head, eyes locked on the road ahead. 

the air became heavy between you two. when wasn’t it? not only did passion run through your veins, but heinous desire breathed life to your souls. 

“why?” you stroked the top of his hand with your nails. “you heard what i said to the girls.” his head lolled against the back rest. “what’s different now?” 

you felt the car accelerate. it vibrated the cushion you were nestled atop of, sending shockwaves through your cunt.

“driving me fucking nuts, darling.” 

you knew you were. it was the secret to your relationship— the two of you understanding what made you tick. seethe with lust until there was no other option for you to climb him like a tree.

it didn’t take long before he reached the hotel, pulling up to the front. you were getting your things to get up, but he was lost on his phone, pretending to be busy. “coming?” you asked.

“pfft—” you could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror. “i wish. give me a second.” you couldn’t help but huff to yourself under your breath, stepping out of the car with your heels clinking to the ground.

 with your purse over your shoulder you stepped up onto the curb, but was distracted by a small voice echoing over your shoulder. 

down the sidewalk was a mother and a stroller. you smirked lowly, taking only the few steps it’d take to reach the mother and child. 

“oh my gosh,” you squealed. the mother was taken back, but by your demeanor and eyes on her baby, she returned a smile. by her pink bonnet and bunny swath, you knew she was the cutest thing you’d ever laid eyes on. “she is just the cutest thing!” 

“thank you,” the woman said.

“she looks just like her mama,” you heard lando’s car door open, most definitely within earshot. “don’t you, sweet thing? yes you do!” you cooed at the baby, who erupted in a fit of louder giggles and mumbles. 

the mother was flushed, but happy. “you’re too kind. you’re good with children? do you have any of your own?” 

jackpot..!!

you clutched your purse as you stood up straight. you played into your theatrics, “oh gosh, i wish! my husband and i have been trying for ages, but he’s just so busy with work…” 

the woman tsked with disappointment for you. “you’d make a beautiful mother,” 

“you think so?” 

she nodded her affirmation. 

“that’s so sweet of you.” you were really milking this scene, especially that you knew lando was listening. 

“is that your husband there?” she pointed to over your shoulder. and there he was, your husband, watching the two of you from behind the ajar car door. 

“mmm, yes, it is.” you offered a cordial wave to him. he stuck two fingers up for a lazy wave, waiting for you to return to him. “i should go. it was a pleasure, ma’am. your baby is adorable.”

she nodded a thanks, and you took your sweet time walking back to the car. you could hear lando tapping the windshield incessantly. before his head dipped down back into the car he called, “get back in.” 

you…admit, you were confused. brows furrowed, you opened the passenger side door and bent down, “why—?”

“get in the car,” your name was a rumble in his chest. you still didn’t know what he was doing nor going, and your stubborn self wouldn’t settle for a verbal answer.

you took too long for him. gripping your arm, he pulled you into the passenger seat, and you landed on your ass with a ‘thump’. 

he fired up the engine again and pulled out of the traffic circle of the hotel. he radiated with heat— you could feel it from where you sat. “where are we going?” 

he didn’t answer you. 

you crossed your arms and legs, looking out the window. the area was unknown to you, but lando always seemed like he knew where he was going. 

it took only a minute for him to pull into an empty level of a parking garage, dimly lit with only one overhead light at the entrance of the ramp. he put the car in park. 

“what are we—”

you couldn’t finish your sentence until you were on his lap, hands gripping your waist so tightly that you had to gasp for air. 

“husband?” 

oh

oh…!

well, this was a change you welcomed with open arms. 

he lowered the seat back until you were straddled atop of him, fingers aimlessly toiling with the zipper of his jeans. 

“don’t know what you’re—”

he snapped upward, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “baby,” he breathed, and you shivered. “what do you want?”

your hips naturally moved back and forth against his own, dress hiked well above your stomach. his hand snaked between your legs, feeling the wet patch in your underwear. he hummed when you didn’t reply, flicking his finger upward to graze your clit. 

you mewled. 

“what was that?”

your hand twisted around the hem of his shirt. you were already breathless, clenching around nothing except the sound of his words. 

“tell me,” he muttered, staring up at your disheveled state. he made quick work of sliding your panties to the side, massaging the folds of your cunt between his fingers. you continued your writhing against him. 

“want you,” was what you managed to breathe out, hips rutting against his palm. he tsked, but allowed you this moment. a moment for him to bask in the way that you move your hips, writhe against his clothed cock that was egregiously hardening by the second and each amount of pressure you applied. 

he slid his fingers in and out of you with ultra maneuvering, in and out, all around. he was a mastermind when it came to feeling you up, exploring you both on the outside, and the in. you were in heaven, ultimately, when he curled his fingers so deeply upon thrusting them. your cunt tightened so viciously around him that he groaned, his head falling back and his hardened cock thrusting upward. to no avail, his dick was strained against the cloth of his pants.

“fuck,” he cussed, curling his fingers over and over again. your body began to shiver, and only began to fall from grace when his thumb traced against your clit. stimulation grew hotter and hotter, until you let out a piercing moan from the depths of your throat. he angled his fingers differently, making you squirm.

“lando!” you breathed, feeling your climax creeping up on you faster than you could even blink. your core tightened, a coil of veracious flames churning around each other manifesting a slew of energy that released sparks from your nerves. your folds were inflamed, puffy, beating hot that you couldn’t think straight. lando was touching you with his other hand anywhere that he could reach. he palmed your breasts through your dress, twisted a nipple to earn a delicious squeal. 

“come on, sweet thing,” he encouraged you with that stupid lopsided smile of his, you were looking down on him, sweat beading at his forehead, pupils blown dark and wide. his hand that was groping your breast moved upward, threading around the column of your throat. “show daddy what you’re made of.” 

his hand tightened, and you felt the coil snap. he continued to pump his fingers in and out, maneuvering so perfectly, hitting that exact spot with precision. 

he knew you came when your eyes rolled back into your head, legs quivering around his waist. god, you’re a sexy thing. 

his hand loosened from around your neck, dropping to your chest, fiddling with the van cleef necklace he had gifted you. it reeked of possession, marking you as his with the “l.n.” initials engraved on the back of the golden surface.

the moment of bliss passed before he was pulling the zipped down from your dress and throwing it from over your head. your panties were next, though the fabric was thin as is. there you were, bare and glistening, before your so-called ‘husband’ as you had worded it. he wouldn’t forget it, a spark igniting within him that was lit by the phrase leaving your tongue. he didn’t think that it would affect him so much—

but it did. 

he made quick work of his own pants, shoving them down to his knees beneath you, breathless and needy. 

you gripped the hem of his shirt. he lifted his arms to hasten the process, and the shirt went to the back seat. with his skin exposed, you couldn’t help but run your hands along his tan, toned chest. it made you dripping wet, though he was barely touching you now. 

with your skin atop of his, carnage was sure to ensue. he took a drag of his fingers against your wet cunt and brought it to his lips. he sucked on them, releasing with a ‘pop.’ your mouth hung open in anticipation for what he was going to do next. he always kept you on your toes. 

but this…this is not what you expected. 

he took a ring from his index finger, plated in silver, and slid it onto your ring finger on your left hand. the wedding finger. 

it stuck to your sweaty palm, sure enough to not slip off. 

“let’s make it official then, pretty girl.” 

you sat upon him astonished, looking down at the adornment that he had given to you. it dazzled on your finger. 

“if you’re my wife, what does that make me?”

the words trembled from your lips, thighs tightening around his own. you could feel his dick sprung to life against your backside. “my husband.” 

“good, baby, you learn fast.” 

you gulped, finally taking a look at him from his propped upright position. he was downright smitten with you, guzzling everything about you inside of him. you were his, so much fucking so, that he was going to ruin you. and he didn’t even feel bad for wanting it. 

“my husband…” you repeated, lowering your face down to meet his own. he smelled so good—a mix of sweat and his cologne. 

his hand tangled into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail to meet your eye level. 

“makes me fucking crazy when y’say it…” 

you knew that was the truth. you’d known the minute you sat down in the car. his demeanor had changed, shifted to something darker that you didn’t quite understand. it was insane enough as is that you’d discovered so many things about him within a short period of time. 

“husband, daddy…what’s the difference?” you cooed, kissing up and down his neck. he groaned, landing a smack on your ass that had you giggling. 

“‘ll just make you a mommy if you keep throwin’ that word ‘round.” 

you grinned ear to ear. against his cheek, you took a deep breath in, before letting go. 

“daddy.” 

if you’ve ever made a good decision in your life, this has to be the best. a switch flipped. gears started to turn in his head. the spark plug burst into flames. 

you were his undoer,

the key to his shackled restraint,

the sun to his universe.

it was always you. you’d been right in front of him for the past two years. two years to get to this point. two years for the woman he loved most in this world to be sucking his neck whispering ‘daddy’ into his ear. 

lando sat upright in the seat. with a hand at the back of your head, he forced eye contact with you. this was different. this look. you could feel it in your heart, your folds, as they began to beat synchronously. life with him was euphoria, and sex had been the serendipitous release for both of you. 

but seeking the future together?

heaven incarnate.

despite being locked inside such a tight space, lando managed to swap your position with a suave move. you were on your back, shocked by his carnal rampage, as he hooked your legs upward. your toes scathed the ceiling of the car, pressed deep into the metal chassis. 

“kiss me,” you demanded with the breath that you could take. he didn’t waste a second, leaning down to your lips and capturing you with the most breathtaking press that he could muster. his tongue and your own fought for dominance over one another; you lost, quickly, unable to match his revered pace. 

he wanted to eat you from top to bottom. devour your insides, carry you with him every day of his life. you would be his, one way or another, and he didn’t care how it was. 

lucky enough, you were more than willing to be his bride, his lover, his person. 

because he was yours. 

then he was inside of you. braving the treachery of your tight walls, he hissed when the tip of his cock slipped through your folds. you’d been dripping on the leather seat. 

“fuck, baby…” his head fell to the crevice of your neck and collarbone. 

“oh my goddd…” the moan you both let out was terribly lewd, grotesque, even, with how he didn’t start a pace. you both savored this sweet moment of lust, passion, and a figurative toast to a lifelong commitment to fucking one another. 

with each thrust he took, he aimed to make a statement. deeper and deeper he penetrated you, his cock crafted of divine measure with how he quartered your g-spot. 

you could never stay still beneath him. it had him on edge the way you squirmed. dare say it was one of the most favorite things about you, though the list would be never-ending. you shiver from pleasure, leaning into him as your cunt squelches beneath you. 

echoes of moans bounce off the interior of the car, whilst a smile of greed and possession conceives on his own cheeks. the angle he has you at is deeper than any that you’ve had before— it left no room for noncommittal nature, no room for you to complain about wanting him closer, more, more, more. 

“y’feel me here?” his hand rest on your lower belly, your womb, as he applied pressure. you do feel him there. the indent of his cock is poignant, bulging out from the skin. 

“mhm…!” you whine, trying to keep your mouth shut from the onslaught of moans pouring out. 

his attention turned to your tits as he swallowed a nipple whole with his tongue, sucking feverishly at the sensitive bud. it had you weak, dribbling to puddy. 

he could only think about how you’d look pregnant. swollen tits, round belly, glowing with his child. 

“this what you wanted?” he grunted, his pace quickening. you were too dumb to speak, a droplet of drool leaking from your mouth. “hm? fuck you—fuck, fill you up?” 

your back arched at the sentence, not knowing that his words could have such an arousing effect on you. this arousal was different. the way you clench around him was different. your actions spoke a lot louder than your words. 

“yeah? i can feel you, darling.” sounds of skin slapping and your hoarse voice could only be heard. he fucked you so good, treated you even better. fuck it, you’d rather be pregnant than anything else. 

“please, please…” you didn’t know what you were pleading for, in truth— he was already fucking you like he’d been in a rut. 

“yeah? that what you want? want a baby?” 

your head nodded furiously up and down, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks. lando bent down to kiss them away, followed by a capturing of your lips. he swallowed your breaths, your moans. he trailed kisses down the column of your throat; your collarbones, breasts, nipples, nothing went untouched by his mouth. 

“god…these…” he muttered against your tits, voice sending shockwaves through your body. “imagine how big they’d be.” he managed to chuckle to himself. “swollen and beautiful,” he kissed the top of your abdomen. 

“lando…”

his head shot up from his daze. 

“the time is right. please, please—” your words seemed to hit him like a truck. the foreplay had turned reality, and he was more than ready to lurch into fate. 

“what, pretty girl?”

your face flushed, biting your lip. “give me a baby, need it—lan, need it so bad.” your hand found the back of his neck, tugging on the strands of his hair. 

he tsked, his pace evening out to a level throttle. your lips formed a sweet pout, and he stroked your chin with his index finger. “give you?” he mocked. “oh, don’t think that’s how we ask, do we?”

“lan…please, please, can i have your baby? need it so bad lando, need it…” you swallowed your breath. “daddy…wanna make you a daddy…please.” 

it was more than enough for him. “atta girl.” he grunted, deepening his lackluster thrusts into thrilling rides on his cock. “y’learn fast…kids ‘r gonna be so smart.” 

“yes, yes! so good, lan.” you heaved, the heat in your cunt finding a boiling point, and he felt it by how tight you became around him. 

“go on, baby, take it. be a good girl and take it all.” you’d do anything to hear your lando call you a good girl. it had been more than enough to send you over the edge into a spiraling orgasm that had slick seeping around his cock. your vision whitened, and you could only see the shadow of your ‘husband’ through the light. 

with sloppy thrusts, lando came with ease. he didn’t pull out urgently, letting his cum soak inside of you. he peppered kisses along your ankles, your calves, and let them fall to the seat. 

out of breath, your chests rose and fell at a rapid pace. lando’s forehead connected with your own, and through the haze of post-sex, he smiled at you. 

you smiled back. the two of you broke into a laugh. 

“fuckin’ knew that was gonna happen today.” he commented lazily into your chest. a hand of yours threaded through his brown curls. 

“your mastermind plan to babytrap me.” 

he raised a brow. “did you plan on leaving?”

you gave him a knowing look. “not in the slightest.” 

he became embarrassed and sheepish as he hid his face into your ribs. “no chance of it, now.” 

you chuckled, flexing your fingers to see the ring still there. “i want a real proposal, by the way.” 

his head shot up. “what? this wasn’t good enough?”

you palmed his face with one hand, and tugged the back of his curled head with the other. “bastard.” 

it only took you two ten minutes to get your clothes back on from such a leisurely excursion from the empty parking garage. covered in his spit, sweat, and cum, you didn’t feel….dirty. 

when he finally pulled up to the valet and opened the door for you, you stepped out as graciously as possible. though your hair was a tangled mess— you tried your best. lucky enough it was late enough to where minimal paparazzi were gathered. thank god. 

you shifted on your feet, shimmying the dress down, but lando came to your rescue. he pulled the dress down where it was crumpled at the back, caught between the hem of your soaked underwear. 

“that was a rental, wasn’t it?” you pointed out, looking over your shoulder.

“they should auction it.” 

you spun around and laughed in his face, gagged by the ego he has. “you have a big head.” 

“need all that room for you.” 

“cheesy.” 

lando’s eyes lit up— though exhausted from the day and your antics, the sun still rose for him— “almost forgot—” he reached into his pocket whilst you waited patiently. 

he pulled out a bracelet.

a friendship bracelet. 

“thought it suited you.” he put it around your wrist, and you analyzed it clearly. in white, capitalized letters it read:

“MOMMY”

“you really had this thing planned.” you were impressed. 

he shifted on his heels, throwing his hands up as if saying ‘what can i say?’ “p thinks you’re pregnant now.” 

you gasped. “lando!” 

“i mean…hopefully.” he winked as you fiddled with the jewelry, still not bothering to take off the ring from your finger. 

“well…” you brought a finger to your lips, thinking, “we have to be certain, don’t we?” 

lando was catching your drift as you walked backwards towards the entrance of the hotel, luring him in with your charisma. “perhaps…”

“so…we need to try again.” he wasn’t going to argue with that. “and again.” or that. “and again, for good measure.” 

“you’re gonna kill me, baby.” he whined, chasing you up the steps. you squealed, running forward. inside the elevator you two went, clicking the floor for your room. 

after further inspection, lando’s brows furrowed after he glanced over you. “what?” 

he covered his mouth to shield his devious smile. 

“what, lando?” 

he coughed to hide his amusement, but it was a very bad act. “you’re…”

“what?” 

“you’re dripping.”

you looked down at your thighs and saw the glistening reflection of his cum seeping out of you. fuck. maybe the first time was the charm, but you hoped it wasn’t. 

you really hoped it wasn’t. 

tags ; @landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

For Her - Lando Norris x Reader

summary: She came to support him. Instead, she was met with hate and a paddock full of people who acted like she didn’t exist. But if there was one thing about Lando Norris, it was that he loved out loud (3.2k words)

content: protective boyfriend, public relationship, public displays of affection, romantic grand gesture

AN: happy new season guys!!! what a race, I hope china will be kinder with my heart :') here's another fic for our race winner! muah <3

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The first race of the season should have been magical.

It should have been the kind of morning you’d always imagined—walking through the paddock with the giddy excitement of someone witnessing greatness up close, feeling the electricity in the air, the intoxicating mix of tire smoke, adrenaline, and champagne already waiting for its moment in the podium spray. You had thought of how proud you would feel watching Lando, how thrilling it would be to see him in his element, how belonging you might feel in a world that, until now, had existed for you in stories and through screens.

You had not imagined being denied entry.

"Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to step back."

The security guard barely spared you a glance, already moving on to the next person in line, his voice impassive, as if he had done this a hundred times before and you were simply another face in a sea of hopeful girls who had tried to talk their way into the paddock.

You gripped your lanyard a little tighter, your heart skipping slightly. "I have a pass," you said, voice gentle but firm as you lifted it to eye level, the McLaren logo glinting in the sunlight.

The guard exhaled sharply through his nose, unimpressed. "We've had a lot of fans trying to sneak in today. If you don’t have the right accreditation, I can’t let you through."

Your stomach twisted.

"I do have the right accreditation," you tried again, as kindly as possible, despite the heat creeping up your neck. "I’m with McLaren. My boyfriend-"

"Yeah, that’s what they all say."

The words were clipped, dismissive, and spoken with the kind of flat finality that suggested he had already decided you were lying.

Embarrassment coiled in your chest, wrapping itself around your lungs, making it suddenly difficult to breathe.

You stood there, cheeks burning, as people brushed past you, throwing curious glances your way. The seconds stretched endlessly, each one more excruciating than the last.

It wasn’t until a McLaren staff member recognized you—"Oh, she’s with Lando," they had said offhandedly—that the security guard finally stepped aside, not bothering with so much as an apology.

By the time you walked through the gates, the joy you had carried that morning had dulled into something smaller, something fragile.

And then, somehow, it got worse.

...

The McLaren motorhome stood like a beacon in the paddock, its sleek glass windows reflecting the bustle of team personnel moving inside. You exhaled slowly, shaking off the earlier embarrassment, and made your way toward the hospitality lounge, longing for something warm and familiar.

A latte, perhaps. Something to reset the day.

You stepped up to the hospitality counter with a practiced sort of grace, the kind that had been instilled in you from your childhood—shoulders back, chin lifted, a polite smile even when you wanted to disappear.

The woman behind the counter was stunning in a sharp, effortless way, her McLaren uniform crisp, her dark eyes shrewd, assessing. She barely looked up when you stepped forward.

"Good morning," you greeted, your voice light, pleasant. "Could I get an oat latte, please?"

The woman’s gaze flicked to you then, sweeping over you in a way that wasn’t unkind but wasn’t exactly warm, either.

"Are you with media?" she asked, already sounding bored.

You shook your head, still polite. "No, I’m—"

"Hospitality is for team guests only," she interrupted, her words clipped, a polite but unmistakable dismissal.

There was something about the way she said it, the way her lips curled just slightly, that sent something sharp down your spine.

You held up your accreditation again, your expression kind but unwavering. "I am a team guest. It is my first race though! I'm with Lando."

A pause. A flicker of something in her gaze.

And then, a small, almost imperceptible smirk.

"Ah," she said slowly, like she was only just now realizing. "Of course you are."

There was something else behind her tone, something you recognized.

You had met people like her before, in glittering lobbies, at perfectly curated events, in spaces where perception was everything. People who measured others in careful glances and quiet, ruthless judgments.

The woman tilted her head, her smile suddenly saccharine. "I’m afraid we’re only serving certain guests at the moment."

The words landed with the soft cruelty of a velvet dagger.

She wasn’t saying no outright.

She was refusing you while pretending it was about something else entirely.

You stared at her for a moment, your fingers tightening slightly over the strap of your bag.

You could have fought. Could have pointed out that this was ridiculous, that you had every right to be here, that her behavior was as transparent as it was petty.

But instead, you simply let out a soft breath and smiled.

Not the kind of smile that was warm and grateful.

The kind of smile that veiled the frustration you were feeling.

"No worries," you said gently, dipping your head, your voice smooth, graceful. "I wouldn’t want to trouble you."

And with that, you turned and walked away, back straight, head held high, because if nothing else—you were not the kind of woman who begged.

But it still stung.

...

The hotel room is quiet except for the faint murmur of the city outside. The occasional car passes beneath the window, the distant noises of Melbourne nightlife drifting in through the small gap in the balcony door. Inside, the glow from the bedside lamp casts soft golden light over the pristine sheets, the half-finished cup of tea resting on the nightstand, and my phone—face-down, untouched for the past hour.

I had set it aside like it burned me.

And in a way, it had.

I don’t need to look at the screen to know what’s waiting for me there.

The photograph was simple. A candid, taken at a cruel angle, just slightly off-guard—me walking alone through the paddock, my hands delicately adjusting the strap of my bag, my gaze flickering off to the side.

The caption beneath it, however, was anything but subtle.

"Classic gold digger. No personality, no job, just another wag looking for a paycheck."

The replies were worse.

"She looks so full of herself. I bet she spends his money like crazy."

"Lando deserves better. She looks disgusting."

"Does she even like racing or just his wallet?"

A part of me had expected this. I’m not naive—this is the cost of being seen.

But expectation doesn’t soften the blow.

It doesn’t make the words less sharp. It doesn’t stop them from settling in the quiet places of my mind, the ones that whisper in the dark when the world is still.

I exhale slowly, smoothing my hand over the sheets, willing away the tightness in my throat.

It’s fine.

I was raised to handle things like this with grace, with an understanding that women who stand beside successful men are often reduced to spectators, accessories, footnotes in their own stories.

I know I am my own person and that is what matters.

A keycard beeps at the door.

Then, the soft sound of it swinging open, of footsteps—light, easy, carrying a kind of restless energy even now.

"Hi darling," Lando’s voice fills the space before he does.

I don’t turn immediately, letting myself blink once, twice, composing myself in the quiet before offering a small smile as he steps inside.

He looks effortlessly disheveled—his hair still damp from the rain outside, his McLaren polo slightly untucked, the fabric creased like he’d run a hand over it one too many times.

He is still buzzing—from the high of the weekend, from the thrill of being back in the car, from the sheer joy of doing what he loves.

And then he looks at me.

And everything shifts.

His grin falters. His brows pull together.

"Hey," he says again, but softer this time, slower. "What’s wrong?"

I hesitate, fingers brushing against the sheets. "It’s nothing."

Lando stills.

"You’re upset."

It’s not a question.

I exhale, tilting my head slightly, lips curving in something almost amused. "No big deal, this is your weekend."

But Lando doesn’t smile.

Instead, he moves—crossing the room in three long strides, sinking down in front of me, his hands warm against my thighs, his gaze level, intent.

"Tell me," he says, quiet but firm.

All day, I have been ignored, dismissed, treated like an inconvenience. And yet, here he is, giving me his undivided attention, his entire world narrowing down to this moment, to me.

I hesitate. Then, finally, I murmur, "People weren’t exactly kind today."

His grip on my legs tightens just slightly.

"Security thought I was a fan trying to sneak in. Hospitality wouldn’t serve me." I let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking my head. "And now there’s a photo of me online. People saying I’m a disgusting gold digger."

Lando doesn’t move.

Doesn’t even breathe.

Then, slowly, he reaches for my phone, flipping it over with careful precision before scrolling. He doesn’t need me to guide him-he finds it immediately.

His jaw tightens.

And then, in a tone so low and steady that it makes my stomach flip:

"Are you joking?"

I open my mouth, but he’s already shaking his head, pushing himself up, pacing now, running a hand through his curls.

"Such bullshit," he starts, turning sharply, voice too controlled, too even, "that after everything—after how much effort you’ve put into being here, after how much of your life you’ve adjusted for me—these people had the nerve to treat you like that?"

I shift under his gaze, biting my lip. "Lando, it’s not—"

"No, no, hold on," he interrupts, hands in the air like he needs a second to process. He lets out a short, disbelieving laugh, but there’s nothing amused about it. "Because from where I’m standing, you’re the easiest person to love in any room, and I genuinely don’t understand how anyone could be that dense."

He exhales sharply, shaking his head, jaw tight. "Honestly, I don’t even know whether to be pissed or impressed by their level of dickheadness."

He stops, inhales sharply, then turns back to me.

"Tomorrow," he says, voice steady now, decisive. "We fix this."

I raise a brow. "We?"

Lando tilts his head, giving me a look like I have just asked if the sky is blue.

"Obviously."

...

There are very few things in life that can silence an entire paddock.

Lando Norris walking in hand-in-hand with me is apparently one of them.

The usual morning commotion—the hurried strides of engineers, the murmured strategy discussions, the distant hum of espresso machines—all of it seems to slow, the air shifting as one by one, heads turn.

Eyes follow us as we move through the paddock, curiosity crackling in the air like static before a storm. Conversations taper off, whispers trailing in our wake, phones discreetly lifted, cameras capturing the moment in real-time.

Lando, of course, is unbothered.

If anything, he thrives under the weight of their attention. His grip on my hand remains firm, steady, unwavering, his strides unhurried, his smirk bordering on self-satisfied.

He wants them to see.

It’s deliberate—the way he holds me close, the way his fingers brush over mine in soft, thoughtless patterns, the way his head tilts toward me slightly every time I speak, like I am the only thing worth listening to.

There is no question about what this is.

There is no question about where I belong.

He makes sure of it.

And then, with perfect, almost cinematic timing, he steers me toward McLaren hospitality.

Right to the coffee bar.

The barista from yesterday stands behind the counter, the same sharp-cut uniform, the same perfectly applied lipstick, the same calculating gaze.

Only now, it falters.

She sees Lando before she sees me, her posture straightening, professional mask slipping into place like second nature. But then, her eyes flick toward me—toward our hands, toward the subtle, unspoken intimacy of the way he keeps close.

I watch as realization dawns.

Oh.

Lando leans against the counter, effortless, grinning.

"Two oat lattes," he says, voice bright, easy, amused. "One for me, one for my girl."

The silence that follows is exquisite.

The barista hesitates—just for a fraction of a second, just long enough for me to see it.

Panic.

"Of course," she says, voice smooth but not quite as sharp as before.

And just like that, there are no shortages, no waiting, no excuses.

The coffees are made within seconds.

Lando watches, humming thoughtfully, tapping his fingers lightly against the counter as she slides the first cup toward him. He lifts it to his lips, taking a slow, exaggerated sip before letting out a long, obnoxiously satisfied hum.

"Mm," he muses, shifting his weight, sparing her a glance. "Tastes better today."

His smirk is dangerous.

"Must be the service."

The barista’s lips press together just slightly.

I take my coffee, cradling the cup in my hands, offering her a soft, serene smile.

"Thank you," I say lightly.

I watch as she winces.

And Lando, the ever-efficient instigator that he is, takes it one step further.

"You know," he muses, as if the thought has just occurred to him, "I think I should make this a tradition."

He turns to me then, eyes bright with mischief, voice just loud enough for the surrounding staff to hear.

"Morning coffee," he says smoothly. "Every race weekend. For the foreseeable future."

The barista looks like she wants to disappear.

I, on the other hand, can't help but smile.

...

The checkered flag had waved, the roar of the crowd still echoing through the air, but none of it mattered—not the celebrations, not the flashing cameras, not the McLaren team swarming the pit wall in victory. Because the moment Lando climbed out of the car, eyes scanning the chaos, he found me.

When he saw me, he ran.

Straight toward me, helmet discarded, race suit half-unzipped, curls a disheveled mess from the heat of the cockpit.

I barely had time to react before he collided into me, arms wrapping around my waist, lifting me off the ground like I weighed nothing.

I shrieked—a real, actual shriek—as my feet left the pavement, the entire world tilting as he spun me in circles,laughter spilling from his lips like he couldn’t contain it.

And then—he kissed me.

Right there, in front of thousands of fans, in front of cameras, reporters, his entire team.

Hard. Fierce. Like he’d won the race and me in the same breath.

I felt the world erupt around us—cheering, chanting, Oscar groaning dramatically in the background. But none of it mattered.

Because Lando was grinning against my lips, breathless, victorious, mine.

When he finally set me back down, he didn’t let go.

Didn’t even try to.

Instead, he beamed down at me, cheeks flushed, curls damp with sweat, voice all cocky, all Lando.

"So, did I impress you or what?"

I rolled my eyes, fond and exasperated all at once. "Eh. You were alright."

He gasped. Actually gasped.

"You’re kidding. You’re joking." He turned toward the cameras, mock-betrayed. "Did you guys hear that? I win a Grand Prix, and she says I’m ‘alright.’"

I bit my lip, pretending to consider. "You were pretty fast, I guess."

"Pretty fast?" he repeated, positively scandalized. "Babe. I am literally the fastest man in Australia right now."

I burst out laughing. "I was kind of rooting for Oscar."

"Lies." He pulled me back in, forehead resting against mine, his voice dropping into something softer, something just for me.

"Say you’re proud of me."

I sighed dramatically. "I guess I’m—"

He nipped at my bottom lip.

"Say it."

I grinned, heart pounding. "Fine. I’m proud of you, Norris."

He hummed, satisfied, smug, still absolutely glowing. "Thought so."

...

Lando was still riding the high when he got to the media pen, his race suit unzipped to his waist, curls damp with sweat, and that stupidly charming grin still plastered across his face.

It wasn’t just a ‘first win of the season’ grin.

It was a ‘my girlfriend is here, and I just won arace for her’ grin.

The interviewer barely got a word in before Lando pointed directly at me, standing just off-camera.

"Her."

I blinked. "Me?"

"Yeah, you!" He turned back to the cameras, nodding enthusiastically. "Let’s just get this straight—I did this for her. Like, entirely. One hundred percent. Full motivation. If she hadn’t shown up, I probably would’ve parked it in a gravel trap on lap ten."

The interviewer laughed. "So, you’re saying she’s your good luck charm?"

"Absolutely," Lando replied, dead serious. "I mean, have you seen her? Look at her."

The camera did not pan to me, thank god. The poor guy running the live feed probably had no idea what to do.

But Lando? Oh, he was just getting started.

"She walked into this paddock today looking like an actual goddess, completely unaware that she is, in fact, the sun incarnate, and people want me to talk about tire degradation? No. I want to talk about her."

The interviewer tried so hard to stay professional.

"You—uh, you had great pace today—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Lando waved him off.

"Lando, I don’t think—"

"Listen, I need to emphasize something." Lando leaned in, tone conspiratorial. "Do you know how lucky I am? Not only is she breathtaking, but she’s also, like, annoyingly smart. Like, did you know she reads all the time? Real books. Not just memes and Twitter threads like me."

He gestured vaguely, suddenly overwhelmed by his own emotions.

"She doesn’t even realize how much people admire her. But I see it. I see everything. And I just think the world needs to start appreciating her at my level."

"That is… very sweet." The interviewer was visibly struggling to keep up.

"Just had to get that out there."

"Well, congratulations on the win, Lando," the interviewer finally managed, skimming over his list of unanswered questions he had prepared.

"Thank you." He nodded seriously, finally letting go of the mic. "And big thanks to the team, of course."

I rolled my eyes from behind the cameras, suppressing a smile.

...

The internet had seen many things, but no one was prepared for Lando Norris using his post-race interview as a full-blown love letter. 

"Lando’s race pace was great, but his girlfriend propaganda was even stronger."

"THE WAY HE JUST POINTED AT HER IMMEDIATELY I CAN’T."

"Lando Norris said ‘this win is for my girlfriend’ and proceeded to recite a romantic sonnet on live TV. My standards are ruined."

Later, as we curled up in the hotel room, finally away from the cameras, Lando buried his face in my neck with a content sigh.

"You know," he murmured, voice sleepy, warm, full of love. "I really did win that for you."

I ran my fingers through his curls. "I know."

"I meant every word, too."

I smiled. "Don't you think it was a bit much?"

"I don't think it was nearly enough," he said, already half-asleep, grinning like he had never been happier.

the golden years

fernando alonso

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (22/43), sugar daddy au, ditzy!reader, rough sex, daddy kink, doggy style, chokehold, dirty talk, mean!fernando, age kink (?)

fernando knew that it had been a good few years since he won a world championship. the two time world champion felt the crawl of age when you looked at him with such innocent eyes and said,

"two-thousand and six? i was like... four years old!"

fernando could feel the grey hairs as you said that. you were twenty-two years old, you were born the year that fernando started in formula one. he knew what he was getting himself into, but to put in that sort of perspective made him feel old.

he ran a hand through your hair and said, "i guess that is right, my love." then patted your cheek, "why don't we get started on dinner."

you ciripus looked at him as you put your hand on his thigh. you said to him tenderly, "but, daddy... it's only one in the afternoon? we don't have to make dinner that early!"

fernando watched you by the pool in his yard. he had watched you in that little green bikini clean out the leaves from the pool earlier. you looked adorable as he eyed your behind as you bent over to shake the leaves from the net. you cutely scolded the leaves when they ended up in the grass. you were just a little airhead, weren't you? you were at times painfully innocent, and fernando enjoyed being a guiding hand in your life. especially when his hand was in your hair and had you bent over.

today he had invited you over, anything to get you away from the little shoebox you refused to move from. he enjoyed the sight of you in his space. to have you in his home. it was where you belonged. it didn't help that you were to die for in the little outfits that showed off a lot of skin and all of your curves. all clothes bought with fernando's credit card. he happily bought you clothes that he could eye fuck you in.

he liked you in pastels, in cuts that showed off your breasts and skirts that he could flip up easily, preferably with no panties underneath. you were his questionably younger lover, but fernando couldn't care less.

let them stare, it only encouraged fernando to claim you further. to keep you as his. he continued to watch you from the patio door as you moved the lounging chair further on the grass where the sun was the strongest. you then laid out on it with your gossip magazine.

you looked nicer than any trophy that fernando had. the metal looked duller compared to your gleaming smile. he moved outside and into the yard, his eyes hungry for you. and you barely noticed him as he approached, you were too engrossed with the trashy articles. you didn't see your sugar daddy approaching you.

he eyed your figure closer. the pastel green looked lovely against your skin. the top of your bikini pressed your breasts together and then a bead sweat dripped down the valley of your plush breasts.

you only noticed him when he blocked the sun from your face. you tipped your glasses down and looked at him, "yes, daddy?" he only noticed the gloss on your lips, he wondered if it was the expensive gloss that you begged to have. you were very good at getting what you wanted. fernando liked to spoil you.

"someone enjoying the sun today?" he sat by your stretched out legs. he ran his hand up and down your exposed thigh, "no one else has seen this, have they?" a small curl of pleasure in his gut at the sight of you. his words were tinged with mild possession.

you were all his.

"fernando." you giggled a little, "i guess someone want more than just some sun, huh?" you smiled with more warmth than any prize he could obtain. you were a mini sun in your own right.

"well, you're much brighter than the sun, my love." he continued to rub your leg. you looked at him and smiled brightly at him. he only returned the favourite, but his touch felt possessive. "next time." he said, "i need to buy you a different swimsuit. they'll be tripping over themselves at the sight of you."

"because i look so bad?"

"no, because you look too good." fernando leaned forward and kissed you on the lips. you tasted like bubblegum. he groaned into the kiss before he pressed further into you. his strong hands held onto your shoulders.

you lived a charmed little life with fernando wrapped around your fingers. you didn't abuse your power, you were a good girl after all. if you were good girl, then he'd be good to you. you ended up leaned further back in the chair and moaned into a heated kiss. his hands were on your soft breasts, you panted against him, "please, honey. i need you. it has been too long."

"daddy."

"princess." he said softly, "i know we just did it this morning. i made you squirm under me. you sounded so beautiful when you came." he chuckled against your heated skin. warmed from the sun, "so beautiful, no one else can have in that way. the way i do. you're all mine."

his tone was possessive and his touches were even more so. it wasn't long before you ended up with the chair all the way back and you on your stomach. fernando was between your legs as he eyed your behind in the green bikini bottoms. they framed your ass beautifully, but the fabric looked better thrown into the pool and his cock up against your behind. you felt amazing even if he wasn't having sex with you yet.

that was soon changed with almost seven inched sank inside of your needy little cunt. you fit him perfectly, it did take a while for you to get used to his cock. it was a little too big for someone like you. it felt good to do it outside, the sun on your skin while your lover drilled his cock into you.

"fuck, princess. look at you,, you need this, you want this my cock inside of your little pussy. you know this is where it belongs." he groaned as he continued to fuck you.

"please, daddy! ah, fernando!" you were obsessed with him. you wanted him in every way you could get your hands on him. in reality he was as equal as obsessed with you.

fernando wanted you deeply, to ruin you for anyone else. so you'd only want him, even if fernando stopped spoiling you with gifts (unlikely), but he'd always spoil you with orgasms.

you moved against the chair with his movements, it felt arousing as your nipples rubbed up against your bikini top and the chair. you gasped and your back arched as his cock hit just the right place. he could hear everything you had, it was only right that you gave him some sugar, to let him devour you beautifully.

"no one else." he said, "no one else, but you." he combed his fingers through your hair as he continued to move against you. he kissed at the nape of your neck and felt you shudder against him. there was a certain quality to you that pulled him in. that he loved. as he thrusted into you, he felt a tug of devotion in his chest for you. like a single angelic prayer, any prayers he had were answered when you came into his life.

beautiful, playful and so fucking dumb.

he happily paid and you gave him all the loving he wanted. all he needed. why would he look for anyone else when he could easily have you for the rest of your his days. plus, with you, he could be selfish.

"you feel like heaven, my love." he purred as he continued to move. he felt everything and it made him only hungry for more. he licked his lips before he planted more kisses on your heated skin. his angel, inside and out.

"don't flatter me."

"it's not flattery if it's true." he replied as he continued to fuck your achy cunt until you were moaning loudly. he could feel the noises echo in his body, maybe he was obsessed with you, but, hey, that was why he slipped into your bank account . the growing balance of euros every time he sank into your heavenly cut.

you moaned against the chair and held onto the edge of it tightly as he continued to batter your achy sex. fuck, it felt amazing. you exhaled deeply and your back bent a little more.

"you know i love you, i adore you more than anything. you are picture perfect." his words were hungry and left warmth pooled in your gut, "you are all mine, you don't want any other man. just me, right?" he let out a groan. his pace was quick and hit against all the right areas.

you couldn't have anyone else because fernado was selfish with your attention, with your love. he wanted you. you were pushed as far as you could go up against the chair with your lover's heavy movements. your noises were loud, but you had a fair bit of privacy so it wasn't a big deal that you were so loud.

fernando kissed your neck once more and your clutched onto the chair tightly. you panted heavily and he moved roughly. the fucking between you two was hot and you were both loud in the privacy of the yard.

"you're perfect, at my pool, in my house, you're all mine. i thought you that little bikini even the earrings you wear. all mine, just like your pretty pussy." his words excited you dearly as he worked your body under him. there were words that died on your tongue and only left you with hot moans. "you take me wonderfully." he groaned as he pushed your face against the chair as his cock bullied and possibly bruised your insides. as great as it could be.

you panted into the fabric as your cunt clenched around him. you groaned loudly into the seat as you came around his cock. he continued his rapid movements to fuck you into a lovely submission.

it only spurred fernando on, he worked you body as you were in a post orgasmic bliss. you gladly let him do whatever he wanted and with a few more heavy thrusts he finished inside of you. it was a blessing to finish inside of you that way.

he rode through his orgasm and eventually slowed to a stop. he kissed your hot skin and dragged his short nails across your hips, skin soft against his fingers, another perfect part of you. he kissed you once more before he pulled out.

"fuck." you gasped as you panted through the heavy heat.

fernando said slyly, his hands still on you, "why don't you get your bottoms back on and let's go play the pool."

you giggled, "aren't you a little old for playing?"

he gazed at your backside as you shifted under him. he grinned to himself, " i enjoy playing with you, my love." then kissed your back, "i'd do it every day if i could."

you exhaled on the chair one last time before you went to find your bottoms. fernando admired you as you were near naked in his backyard. he grasped his exposed cock for a moment and licked his lips. he wondered if you could fuck you in the green grass next." <3