White Horse - Chapter 17: May 2024 - Part 1

like lando norris

Lando Norris x Y/N

Summary : Lando Norris and his girlfriend invite viewers into their everyday life, sharing candid and funny moments as they go about their day.

Words : 2.5k

Warnings : swearing, suggestive talk

Lando and Y/N sat on the sofa, waiting for Morgan and Ethan to arrive to film the second part of the "I Ate and Trained Like Lando Norris" Quadrant video. Fans had loved the first one—especially catching glimpses of Y/N in the background, offering a rare peek into their domestic life.

The two exchanged a knowing look as the doorbell rang. Lando got up, heading for the door, only to be immediately greeted by a camera in his face and the two boys standing there with their bags.

"Good morning," Morgan greeted, stepping inside with a smirk. "I'm hoping for a better meal this time, Lando. I’m not having any of that mush for breakfast and that cold-ass salad for lunch again."

Lando laughed, hugging him briefly before turning to Ethan for the same. "We’re supposed to be healthy! You guys are living like me for a day, aren’t you?" he teased, waving at the camera before shutting the door behind them.

"Actually..." Ethan trailed off, making Lando raise a brow.

Morgan smirked. "The concept’s a little different today."

"We’re just gonna do what you do on a regular day off. No training, no ice chamber—just regular little Lando," Ethan added.

Lando scoffed. "I still train on my days off."

"Bullshit," Morgan shot back immediately.

"I do!"

"Oh, stop showing off for the camera, mate," Morgan rolled his eyes. "You probably just lie in bed all day and eat McDonald's."

Ethan burst into laughter as Lando shook his head with an amused grin.

"Right, where’s the missus?" Morgan dropped his bag onto the floor, casually looking around as if he owned the place.

"She was just on the sofa, mate. You probably scared her off," Lando joked, walking further into the apartment.

From a distance, Y/N’s voice called out, "I’m in the kitchen!"

The trio made their way toward the kitchen, where Y/N stood at the stove, containers of food neatly arranged beside her.

"This feels so scripted," Ethan teased. "You guys totally rehearsed this, didn’t you?"

Lando laughed. "No mate, this is all raw footage." He walked over, peering over Y/N’s shoulder to see what she was doing.

"Heard you complaining about having to eat cold meals," Y/N smiled, motioning for the camera to come closer. "So I’m reheating your breakfast."

Morgan stepped forward, relief washing over his face. "Thank fuck we don’t have to eat mush again. You’re an absolute angel," he said, eyeing the food. "You made this?"

She shook her head. "Still part of the meal plan, just reheating it. It’s banana pancakes."

Ethan glanced at his watch before looking between Lando and Y/N. "Are you guys usually up this early? Even on your free days?"

The couple exchanged a smile, shaking their heads.

"Depends," Lando shrugged.

"On?" Ethan prompted.

"On how we’re feeling, I guess," Y/N added.

Morgan smirked. "Depends on how wild they were the night before—dirty bastards."

Lando and Y/N both turned red, bursting into laughter.

Y/N plated the pancakes, topping them with yogurt and fresh fruit, while the three watched in focused anticipation—Lando even helping her place a few berries on each plate.

"Is he usually this helpful in the kitchen?" Ethan asked, eyeing Lando.

Y/N scoffed, immediately shaking her head. "Absolutely not."

Lando gasped, feigning offense. "Excuse me?"

"When I moved in, he barely knew how to use the microwave," she teased.

"Baby, I knew how to use the microwave," Lando defended himself.

Y/N smirked. "He never touched the oven, either. The protective plastic and stickers were still on—"

"Alright, enough from you," Lando cut her off, popping a berry into her mouth before leaning in to plant a quick kiss on her lips.

Morgan groaned. "Ugh, get a room."

Ethan laughed. "I think we are in their room."

Lando just grinned, grabbing his plate. "Well, since you guys wanna be me for the day, you better start eating like me too."

And with that, they all sat down to dig in, ready for whatever the rest of the video had in store.

"This is so much better than last time," Morgan said through a mouthful of food, letting out a satisfied sigh.

Beside him, Ethan nodded in agreement, grunting as he took another bite.

Y/N stood nearby, sipping on a smoothie instead of joining them in eating.

"You're not having some, Y/N?" Ethan asked, glancing over at her.

She shook her head and lifted her smoothie slightly in response.

Lando, ever the gentleman, cut a small piece from his plate and held his fork out toward her. Y/N smiled softly before leaning in to take the bite.

Morgan made a face. "Look at them. So sweet it makes me sick."

"Jealous?" Lando smirked at him.

Morgan scoffed, while Ethan shook his head. "It's all fake anyway. No way you pulled her, mate. Look at her."

Y/N let out a laugh as Lando turned to glare at them playfully.

Morgan leaned against the counter, intrigued. "Alright then, who messaged who first?"

Lando glanced at Y/N before answering. "Uhmm... I technically made the first move, but we were friends for a while before that."

Morgan barely hesitated before dropping his next question. "Is he as good in bed as he is on track, Y/N?"

Y/N choked on her drink, coughing as she tried to recover.

"Mate, try not to kill our host thirty minutes into the video," Ethan laughed, patting her back as Lando groaned, running a hand down his face.

Morgan simply grinned. "What? The people want to know."

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The four of them were now in Lando’s car—Lando at the wheel, Y/N riding shotgun, and Ethan and Morgan lounging in the back.

“So, where are we off to now?” Ethan asked, leaning forward slightly to peek into the camera mounted on the dashboard.

Lando kept his eyes on the road as he navigated through the city. “Since it’s technically our regular day, we’re gonna run some errands.”

“You two actually do your own grocery shopping?” Morgan asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

Y/N chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

Lando glanced at her with a grin. “What did you think we did?”

Morgan shrugged, looking out the window. “I don’t know… had a personal shopper or something?”

“Nah, we still do normal stuff,” Lando said with a small smile. “Honestly, I kinda like it. Feels… regular.”

Y/N snorted, not looking up from her phone. “He just likes sneaking junk food into the cart while I’m actually trying to buy things we need.”

Ethan laughed. “Don’t you get, like, mobbed when you go out?”

Lando nodded. “Not mobbed… but filmed, yeah. People ask for photos. You just get used to it after a while.”

“Yeah, well, I saw a pap shot of you two making out in your Ferrari the other day,” Morgan teased, shooting Lando a knowing look. “Cheeky bastard—couldn’t even wait ‘til you got home?”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands as Lando laughed. “Oh my god, why does the whole world have to see that?”

Inside the grocery store, Y/N was pushing the cart while the three of them trailed behind her like ducklings. As expected, Lando’s presence earned them a few lingering stares—some people even sneaking their phones up to record.

“I feel like a celebrity,” Ethan whispered dramatically.

Morgan rolled his eyes. “You idiot, you are with a celebrity.”

Lando chuckled at that, but he and Y/N had already drifted ahead, casually chatting as they browsed the shelves, momentarily forgetting about the camera filming them.

Morgan smirked, turning to the lens and zooming in on the couple. “Gotta admit, they’re pretty damn cute.”

A few meters away, Y/N and Lando had paused in front of a shelf, seemingly in the middle of a heated debate.

“Ohhh,” Ethan grinned, watching them from afar. “The parents are fighting.”

Before Morgan could respond, Ethan jogged over to investigate.

"— we already have like sixty of these at home."

"But Lan...this one’s ocean breeze," Y/N insists, shoving the candle under Lando’s nose like it’s the most important purchase of their lives.

Lando sighs dramatically, giving her a look. "And what, the other sixty are not breezy enough for you?"

Y/N bats their lashes innocently. "Nope. This one speaks to my soul."

With a groan that’s more for show than actual protest, Lando grabs the candle and tosses it into the cart. "Fine. But if our house starts smelling like a tropical resort, I’m blaming you."

"I take it the missus is always right?" Ethan teases, watching the exchange with an amused grin.

Lando huffs, but when he looks over at Y/N, who’s beaming like they just won the lottery, he just shakes his head with a smile. "Unfortunately… yes."

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By lunchtime, they were back at the apartment. The boys had gathered around the kitchen, watching as Y/N effortlessly whipped up a quick pasta dish while Lando stood to the side, assisting.

"Mate, you're literally just standing there holding a cheese grater," Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. "You don’t have to keep pretending in front of the cameras."

Y/N let out a laugh, sneaking a glance at Lando, who was hovering near her with all the enthusiasm of a kitchen decoration. "He always does this. He'll ask if I need help and then just stand there like a lost puppy."

"Why am I being targeted?!" Lando exclaimed, throwing his hands up, the cheese grater still in one of them.

Ethan smirked. "Has Lando ever actually cooked for you, Y/N? Considering he doesn't even use the oven"

Y/N paused, thinking for a moment before nodding. "He has, actually."

"Was it edible?"

"Wow," Lando scoffed, scandalized.

Y/N giggled, nudging him with her elbow. "It was! He made that TikTok pasta recipe. It was pretty good, actually." She shot Lando a playful grin before adding, "He did use nearly every single pot and pan we own, though."

Morgan and Ethan burst out laughing as Lando rolled his eyes. Y/N, still grinning, reached up and gave his cheek a gentle teasing pinch before handing out the plates. "But hey, at least he tried."

They sat around the dining table, eating, chatting, and answering a few lighthearted questions—all while playing a passive game of UNO.

"What do you typically do when Lando’s away during race weekends? I take it you don’t attend every race?" Ethan asked, casually dropping a Draw Two card onto the pile.

"Yeah, I only go to a handful of races," Y/N nodded, picking up her new cards. "I usually stay here and work. Try to get stuff done with Quadrant every now and then too."

Morgan smirked. "Does he get needy when he's gone for too long?"

Lando let out a chuckle, shaking his head, but Y/N grinned knowingly. "I wouldn’t say needy… but he does get a bit pouty when he’s tired."

"Pouty?!" Morgan repeated, dramatically scandalized. He turned to Lando, pointing his fork at him in mock disappointment. "At your big age of 26? Lando, mate—really?"

Lando groaned, throwing down an UNO Reverse card aggressively. "Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, I don’t pout."

"Oh, you definitely do," Y/N countered, nudging him playfully. "FaceTime calls at like 2 AM, all sulky, saying 'I'm so tired' , 'I miss you', 'Wish you were here', in the whiniest voice."

Ethan burst out laughing. "Oh, that’s fantastic. Please tell me you have screenshots."

Y/N smirked. "Oh, I have videos."

Lando's eyes widened as he dropped his fork. "You traitor!"

"It's cute!" Y/N argues, crossing her arms as Lando groans dramatically.

Ethan chuckles before shifting the topic. "And your favorite race on the calendar that you attend?"

"Oh... it depends, really," Y/N muses, twirling her fork in her pasta. "I love Japan—it’s such a beautiful country. But maybe Silverstone is high up there? Since it’s his home race and I get to spend time with his family for pretty much the whole week. And honestly, any race that Cisca attends. She's a sweetheart."

"Lando’s mum, right?" Ethan clarifies.

Y/N nods. "Yep!"

Lando scoffs, leaning back in his chair. "More like her mum now."

Morgan smirks. "Has she taken over your family too?"

"Oh, absolutely," Lando groans. "Whenever I have time off and tell them I’m coming home to visit, they always ask if she’s tagging along."

"They don’t even try to hide it anymore," he continues, shaking his head. "Always catch her on FaceTime with my sisters or my mum, like I'm the guest in my own family."

Y/N grins proudly. "They have good taste."

----------------------------------------------------

A couple more hours had passed, and now it was later in the day. The four of them were back in the car, but this time, the city was bathed in a glow of streetlights, making for a much different vibe compared to earlier. The camera captured them in their seats as they navigated through the illuminated streets, casual conversation filling the car.

It was dinner time, and Lando had officially declared it a cheat day, deciding they’d grab something quick for dinner.

"Please tell me we're getting McDonald's," Morgan groaned from the back seat. "I've been craving those mozzarella sticks since we got here."

The rest of them laughed, and Lando smirked as he kept his eyes on the road. "We actually are."

"Be honest," Morgan pressed, leaning forward slightly. "How often do you just say ‘fuck it’ and grab takeout?"

Lando chuckled, rubbing his jaw. "More than I’d like to admit."

"Cheeky bastard. Bet they know your usual by now."

Lando laughed, shaking his head. "I literally beg Y/N not to tell me when she’s ordering takeout," he admitted. "That McFlurry is just too damn good."

Y/N grinned, glancing at him from the passenger seat. "Yeah, and then the second I get it, he’s suddenly all 'Oh, let me just have a bite.'"

Morgan and Ethan burst out laughing.

"One bite turns into half," Ethan added knowingly.

"EXACTLY!" Y/N exclaimed, pointing at Lando.

Lando huffed, gripping the wheel. "Okay, in my defense, you always order the best stuff. It’s not my fault you have impeccable taste."

Y/N smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Keep sweet-talking me all you want, but you’re still buying your own McFlurry this time."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Thank you for today. I’m sure the viewers will love seeing this side of you two," Ethan says, giving both Lando and Y/N a hug as they say their goodbyes.

"Oh, it’s a pleasure having you guys here. Thank you," Y/N replies warmly.

"Don’t miss us too much," Morgan teases, pulling them into a hug as well—only to cheekily pat Lando’s bum on the way out.

Lando gasps, feigning offense. "You wish you could handle all this."

Morgan cackles as he grabs his bag, while Ethan keeps the camera rolling as they head toward the door, still filming.

The lens zooms in on Lando and Y/N, who stand by their doorway, watching their friends leave.

"So, how are you two ending your night?" Ethan asks, turning back toward them.

Lando, with a soft smile, casually wraps an arm around Y/N’s waist and pulls her closer. "Probably a movie night."

Morgan chuckles, shaking his head as he presses the elevator button. "More like sexy time—dirty bastard." He gestures toward Lando with a knowing smirk. "Look at him. Couldn’t be happier to finally get rid of us and have Y/N all to himself."

Lando, completely unbothered, just grins. "And what about it?"

photograph- c.leclerc

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or, 5 moments in y/n and charles's life that made the internet go crazy :)

charles leclerc x norris! reader

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AC incident 

You walked into Charles’s room, a drink in hand. God, you forgot how hot Monaco was, even this late in the year. When you’d packed to come visit your boyfriend, you’d thought about the cold and miserable weather back home, not the hot, sweaty, humid, and sunny weather of Monaco. That’s how you ended up in a pair of Charles’s shorts, and just your bra.

“Baby?” He called you. 

“Hm?” You nodded, not looking up from your phone as you lay on his bed. You knew he liked gaming, especially when it wasn’t much about racing, and you didn’t want to disturb him. But his room was the only one with working AC, and you were about to die in the kitchen’s heat. 

When you didn’t get an answer you looked up to see his eyes firmly glued to you, rather than the fifa game he’d just lost. You could hear all his friends shouting at him for missing a goal and costing their team the win. 

“What?” You chuckled, getting up and walking over to him. 

“You look so beautiful, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek when you bent down beside him, laughing at the comments in his ears about him being down-bad. “So pretty.”

“Thanks baby,” you smiled, casting your eyes to the chat, which was all about you and Charles, either complimenting how good you looked, or how cute you were together. 

Landosnandos21: y/n is looking good. DAMN. 

y/n’sversion: Monaco weather is a blessing if we get to see mother like this. 

Charlesleclerc’stoes: alexa play ‘that should be me’ by justin bieber. (I’m taking about charles his woman is FINE.)

y/n’shairfolical: marriage when? children with perfect genetics when?

Pastryboy81: if he’s not this obsessed with me, i don’t want it. 

You laughed at the chat as Charles let his hands wander down your back to your ass, then further to your thighs. 

“Hey!” You heard Lando’s voice through his headphones. “Get your hands off my sister! Stop being weird on stream!” 

You laughed as Charles dropped his hands from you like you were on fire. “Lando, shut up,” you held your middle finger up to the camera, hoping he’d see it as Charles laughed with you. 

“I’m just going to turn the AC on, ok?” You turned to Charles, who stared for a second, then nodded like a puppy. “Thanks,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips, then going back over to the bed and turning the AC on. 

His gaming continued for another 20 minutes before he shut off the game and came over to you. “Hello baby,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your neck as he lay beside you. You kissed back as his hands wrapped around you, pulling you closer. Though his body was warm, you didn’t really mind. “Can we-?” he smiled bashfully and you chuckled.

“Is the stream off?” You asked, knowing his challenges with technology.

“Maybe? I do not know,” he chuckled. “I don’t really care.”

You chuckled, but got up anyway, actually turning off the stream. “Bye guys!” Only a bit embarrassed. 

-----------------

Bahrain 

Charles had been training and preparing since the moment he’d gotten up that morning, aka, he hadn’t seen you. There he sat, in his freezing ice bath, when he caught a glimpse of what he thought to be you, cycling with Carlos. He gave a sneaky look to the camera that was on him, then; one second he was there, his trainer looked away, and the next second, he was gone. Shot off like a rocket in your direction. You and Carlos had to jump off your bikes and almost fall over to get out of his way, and even then he chased you all around the paddock, trying to get a hug. 

“Charles! You’re soaking wet!” You laughed as you felt the eyes of the entire team on you two. 

“Come on mi amor! I have not seen you all day! I never race my best without seeing you!” He pleaded, still chasing after you. 

Your laughing stopped when Carlos grabbed you by the shoulders to stop you from running away, helping Charles’s plan. He held you to his chest as Charles celebrated and thanked him, and as the team videoed. 

Finally, Charles made his way over to you and smirked. “A hug, my love?”

And you had no choice. You were passed from Carlos’s arms to Charles’s and hit with the freezing water that coated his swim shorts and his body. “Fuck Charles!” You squealed. “You’re freezing!” 

He just laughed and pressed your head further into his neck, pressing kisses to the top of your head as the paddock became a chorus of ‘awws’ and ‘oooos’. 

“I’m getting you back for this,” you gritted, low enough so only he could hear it.

He smiled wider. “I know you will.”

-----------------

Streaming goes wrong

Charles was doing another stream with the f1 boys, you knew that. Charles liked to get very focused on what he was doing, you knew that. But Charles had also promised to come pick you up from the airport, and after 30 minutes of waiting for Arthur to find his baggage (birthday surprise for Charles), then 40 minutes of waiting for Charles, nothing. Not even a phone call or a text. You were exhausted, Vancouver to Monaco was an 11 hour flight, and you hadn’t slept a wink thanks to the guy in front of you, who’s snores could’ve started an avalanche if they were given the chance. 

You opened twitch and pressed on Charles’s stream, to find him busy racing with the other boys. You sighed and decided to just get a cab instead, not wanting to bother him. He could be very forgetful, and you knew that. 

After a 32 minute drive, walking up the stairs with your suitcase since the elevator was out of order, and coming inside, you dropped your suitcase by the door, and went straight to your neighbours apartment to get Charles’s other birthday present even if you weren’t going to try and talk to Charles right now, not when you were that angry. 

Charless16900: wasn’t y/n coming home today? Did you pick her up?

Charles glanced at the chat to see the message and his face fell. He was meant to pick you up- he looked at his watch- more than an hour ago. He checked his phone to find the messages you’d left and he sighed. 

“I am in big trouble,” he told the group, a sorrowful look in his eyes.

George chuckled. “What? Why? What did you do?”

“I forgot to pick up Y/n from the airport!” He groaned. “She got a taxi instead.”

“Oh, so that was the noise from earlier, your door opening,” Alex added. 

“What?!” Charles squeaked. “She is home already?”

“I think so mate,” Max laughed. “Good luck.”

Charles got up from his chair for a few minutes to go and talk to you. “Baby?” He called out to the apartment. “I’m sorry?”

And then a pillow was flung at his face. “You dick!” Arthur shouted. “You forgot us at the airport!”

Charles stared at his little brother, completely confused. “What are you doing here?” He chuckled, throwing the pillow back. 

“I am here for your birthday surprise!” Arthur explained, throwing the pillow back at him. “You know, the one Y/n set up?”

Charles shook his head, even more confused. 

“Thanks Arthur, congratulations, you ruined the surprise,” you walked in with a small dachshund in your arms. “Well, here's the other part of the surprise.”

Charles stared at you. “You got me a dog?” He smiled, taking the dachshund from your arms.

“I got us a dog,” you corrected him. “Happy birthday-eve,” you smiled. “Also fuck you for not picking me up from the airport.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Arthur cheered, annoying Charles. “You could’ve seen me way faster- ew! Stop it!”

Arthur started complaining because Charles had started kissing you. You chuckled into the kiss as one of his arms wrapped around your waist and the other held your new dog. Your arms wrapped around his neck as Arthur threw a pillow at the both of you, causing Charles to pull away and start chasing him around the apartment. 

You chuckled to yourself and picked up the pillow, fixing up your bed. Maybe you could forgive Charles for his mistake. Then you looked at his gaming set-up and saw that everything was still on and that he was still streaming. 

“Charles!” you scolded, going over and ending the stream with a wave. “Turn off the stream before you run off!”

“Sorry, my love!” He called back. 

“And Arthur!” you shouted. “Stop chasing your brother around my house, you’re going to break something!”

“Sorry!” He called back. 

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Qualifier

You watched with bated breath as the qualifier for the Monaco GP dragged on. It was the last lap, Oscar right on his tail, and…

He did it. He crossed the finish line first. Ahead of Max, ahead of Oscar, ahead of everyone. 

The entire paddock was alive with cheering. Every person pulled someone closer in with hugs and cheers, and it was all thanks to Charles. Arthur and you were jumping up and down, ecstatic that he’d won. As soon as you two could, you ran to the lineup and watched as he jumped out of the car, running straight towards you. He pulled off his helmet, handing it off to someone, then he scooped you up in his arms, a bright smile on his face as he kissed you. The small camera crew and the number of fans around clapped and cheered as cameras flashed and pictures were taken. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you smiled. “My winner.”

“Your winner, always. And soon, your husband." 

Thank god neither of you were wearing microphones. 

-----------------

Interview goes south

“Does being Charles Leclerc make you fuck more?”

Charles tried to stifle the shit-eating grin on his face when he looked up and found you with your head in your hands, shaking your head and laughing as the second-hand embarrassment hit you like a freight train.

He chuckled. “I am very lucky, I am very in love and my beautiful girlfriend loves me too,” he smirked. “But the answer is definitely yes,” he laughed as the other interviews burst into uncontrollable laughter. Obviously he was making a joke (no he wasn’t, you two went at it like bunny rabbits), but it was awfully embarrassing for you both. Charles beckoned you over and you obliged, only to set the record straight. 

“He’s joking about that,” you clarified. “And don’t be so sure on how much your girlfriend loves you after that answer,” You scolded. Charles laughed, holding you closer and pressing ‘apology’ kisses to any piece of you he could reach. The video ended with Charles chasing you around the paddock as you ducked past people to evaded his capture.

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navigation for my blog :)

good luck charm | cl16

she's just a friend...right?

in which charles takes a while to pull his head out of his ass

liked by charlesleclerc, lorenzotl, and others

yourusername portofino with my favorites

tagged: arthur_leclerc, charlesleclerc, charlotte2304, leclerc_pascale

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leclerc_pascale ❤️❤️❤️

carmenmmundt ¡que hermosa! how beautiful!

→ yourusername ¡te quiero muchísimo! i love you a lot!

arthur_leclerc why did you not show my big plate of pasta

→ yourusername why *haven't you shown* my big plate of pasta

→ arthur_leclerc okay you did better in english but you cheated off my science tests

→ yourusername and somehow still got better notes than you 🤔

user1 who is this girl and why is charles on her post?

→ user2 she's arthur's best friend from childhood. her realtionship with the leclercs is acc so wholesome. pascale is like her mum

charlesleclerc i'm going to assume i'm the most favorite

→ yourusername why can neither of you do grammar? @arthur_leclerc?

→ charlesleclerc it's use grammar, not due grammar poupette

→ arthur_leclerc HAH

→ charlesleclerc you were close though poupette!

user3 eats every time

yourusername added to their story

liked by leclerc_pascale, charlesleclerc, and others

yourusername night out for maman

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arthur_leclerc night out for maman and yet no photos of maman 🤔

→ leclerc_pascale hush

→ yourusername 😝

user4 i would literally sell a kidney to have her closet

→ user5 lol same

charlotte2304 ragazza bella pretty girl

→ yourusername il mio fotografo personale <3 my personal photographer

charlesleclerc thank you for helping make the night wonderful for maman poupette

→ yourusername anything for my favorite leclerc

→ charlesleclerc what.

user6 her relationship with pascale is so cute omg

charlesleclerc added to their close friends story

yourusername added to their story

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, and others

yourusername date night

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arthur_leclerc what man did you convince to take you out

→ yourusername 🖕

user6 noooooo not a man

charlotte2304 i'm stealing that top

→ yourusername i knew you'd like it 😂

charlesleclerc ❤️

leclerc_pascale ma belle fille my beautiful girl

→ yourusername merci maman thank you

user7 i don't know if i want to be her or the man

liked by user8, user9, and others

f1gossip charles leclerc spotted on thursday with a mystery woman. according to an anonymous submission, the two were talking about the track in preparation for practice tomorrow. leo was with them.

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user10 who is she

user11 guys that's y/n

→ user12 no it can't be

→ user13 wait it is

yourusername added to their story

liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and others

charlesleclerc i have dreamed of this day since i was a child. now that it has come, i can hardly believe it. all of the sacrifices made by my father, godfather, mother, brothers, and girlfriend have finally been worth it. thank you all ❤️

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arthur_leclerc well deserved brother. so proud

→ charlesleclerc 💪

carlossainz55 bravo mate!

leclerc_pascale je suis si fier de toi mon fils i'm so proud of you my son

→ charlesleclerc merci maman thank you

yourusername i still have chills. what you have done is everything you have worked for. years of hard work and discipline. if hervé and jules were here to see you now, cha, they would be so proud. je t'aime ❤️

→ charlesleclerc thank you for being here. i think our daily track walks are what put me over the edge.

pierregasly il a gagné sa course à domicile! 💪 he won his home race

liked by leclerc_pascale, charlesleclerc, and others

yourusername a la casa tua charles

tagged: charlesleclerc, arthur_leclerc

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leclerc_pascale that photo of you two is my favorite. you were always happy to be around each other

→ yourusername maman 🥹

arthur_leclerc @joris you owe me twenty euro

user14 awwww look at them

charlotte2304 have you stopped crying?

→ yourusername no 🫣

charlesleclerc my good luck charm

→ yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

lorenzotl 💪💪💪

user15 that one twitter girl called it didn't she

mona speaks:

i was trying to write a carlos fic, but for some reason il predestinato has a monopoly on my brain. i hope that you enjoyed this one. as always, please send me asks or feel free to chat with me in my inbox!

NEVER GO HUNGRY EVER AGAIN

pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

word count: 1727

hii it's been a while since my last fic and im stll on a high since the abu dabi gp, so heres a cute little lando fic. also just finished my first semester of uni hopefully i can be more active.

The soft glow of the monitors illuminated Lando’s face as he leaned forward, laser-focused on his game. His fingers danced across the controller, jaw set in determination. Voices of his friends buzzed through his headset, a mix of banter, callouts, and the occasional burst of laughter.

“Lando, mate, you’re absolutely throwing right now,” Max’s voice rang out, feigned frustration clear in his tone.

“I’m not throwing! I’m playing the long game,” Lando shot back with a grin, eyes still glued to the screen. “It’s called strategy, ever heard of it?”

“Yeah, the strategy of losing,” Ria quipped, drawing a chorus of laughter from the team.

“Alright, alright, just watch this,” Lando said, leaning even closer to the screen. His tongue poked out in concentration, the telltale sign he was locked in.

Time slipped away unnoticed as he navigated the game’s twists and turns. The familiar rhythm of the stream chat’s messages scrolled rapidly on his second monitor, but he was too deep into the game to glance over. Hours must have passed, but Lando’s mind was too preoccupied to register the growling in his stomach.

Then, a knock.

“One sec,” Lando muttered, sliding one earcup off his head. He glanced toward the door, his brows furrowing in confusion before realization dawned. He leaned back in his chair, eyes softening. “Come in!”

There was a brief sound of shuffling, the slight thud of a hip bumping the door before it slowly creaked open. Y/N stepped in, balancing a plate of food in her hands with the focus of someone carrying a national treasure. The chat’s speed doubled as her side profile came into frame, and messages like "OMG it’s Y/N!" and "Wifey alert 😍" flooded the chat box.

“Brought you dinner,” she said softly, walking toward him with careful steps. The aroma hit him before she even reached his desk, and his heart swelled with warmth.

“Oh, you’re a legend, babe,” Lando said, quickly sitting upright and scooting his chair back to give her space. He took the plate from her, eyes wide with admiration as he gazed at the meal she’d prepared. “This looks amazing.”

“I was worried you’d forget to eat,” she teased, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her smile was soft but knowing—she’d seen him get lost in games like this before.

Lando’s eyes didn’t leave her face for a second. His gaze flickered to the chat, catching sight of the flood of adoring messages. "The way he’s looking at her, I’m sick 🩸" and "That’s the look of a man in love" filled the stream.

“She’s literally the best ever, chat,” Lando said, his voice warm and unwavering. He reached up with his free hand to gently squeeze Y/N’s wrist before letting her go. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world, I swear.”

“I’ll get you a drink,” Y/N said, already turning to leave. “Wait here.”

“I—” Lando started, but she’d already slipped out of the room. He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head before glancing at the camera. “Chat, I’m telling you, I’ve won the lottery. She’s just…” He trailed off, unable to find a word that felt big enough to encompass it all. “Yeah. She’s perfect.”

“Bro, you’re down so bad,” Max’s voice cackled through the headset. “Not even hiding it anymore.”

“Why would I?” Lando shot back, eyes sparkling with pride. He lifted a piece of the dinner—some kind of stuffed pasta—and popped it into his mouth. His eyes widened as soon as he tasted it. “Okay, wait, hold on.” He covered his mouth as he chewed, glancing at the camera like he’d just uncovered a world-class secret. “This is actually insane. I’m eating like royalty right now.”

“Imagine getting home-cooked meals while streaming. Must be nice,” Ria sighed dramatically.

“Couldn’t be me,” Aaron added with mock bitterness. “I’m over here eating cold leftover pizza like a peasant.”

“Jealousy’s a bad look on you, mate,” Lando grinned, taking another bite. He’d meant to savor it, but he’d already eaten half before he realized it. “Chat, she’s turned into a whole chef since moving in. Two weeks ago she’d barely step into the kitchen, and now look at this. Look at me.” He gestured toward himself with his fork. “I’m living like a king.”

The chat’s pace somehow sped up even more, hearts, fire emojis, and "Y/N for president" messages flooding in.

Y/N returned with a cold drink in hand and set it beside him on the desk. Her eyes darted to the chat for just a moment before glancing at him, eyebrows raised in suspicion. “What did you say?” she asked, hands on her hips.

“Nothing incriminating, I promise,” Lando said, eyes wide with faux innocence. “Only that you’re basically a professional chef now.”

“Mhm. Sure,” she said, rolling her eyes, but the smile on her face gave her away. “Just eat it before it gets cold.”

Lando’s face broke into a grin so wide it crinkled the corners of his eyes. He glanced once more at the chat. "Lando’s done for, he’s a goner," one person wrote, and he had to admit… they weren’t wrong.

He raised his glass to the camera in a mock toast. “To all of you wishing you had what I’ve got,” he said, eyes flicking back to Y/N as she disappeared through the door again, “I’m sorry, but it’s mine. All mine.”

A couple of months into living together, it had become a routine for Y/N to bring Lando food during his streams. It started as a simple act of kindness but quickly became a beloved ritual for both of them — and for Lando’s ever-watchful chat.

Tonight was no different.

Lando’s camera captured him in his element, leaning forward in his chair, controller in hand, eyes narrowed in sharp focus. His headset covered his curls, his tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth in classic 'concentration mode.' On his second monitor, the stream chat moved at lightning speed, viewers spamming “LAN-DOOOO”, “HE’S SWEATING”, and various emotes of fire, skulls, and crying faces.

“Lando, you’re one shot, man,” Max’s voice rang in his ear, sharp with urgency.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah—I got it, I got it,” Lando muttered, hands moving rapidly on the controller. “Just cover me for like... five seconds!”

“Five seconds too many,” Ria chimed in. “I’m not your babysitter, Norris.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Lando quipped, grinning as he slid his character behind cover.

Then, it happened — the knock on the door.

“Yo, hold on. Hold on. One sec,” Lando said, throwing a quick glance at his door. A slow grin crept onto his face as he realized what time it was. “Chat, you know what’s coming,” he said, sliding his chair back.

“It’s timeeee!” one person spammed in the chat.

“WIFEY ALERT 🚨,” another user wrote, followed by a sea of heart emojis.

The door nudged open slowly, and in came Y/N, balancing a plate with one hand and holding a drink in the other. Her expression was one of mock seriousness, eyes narrowed like she was on a high-stakes mission. The second she stepped into frame, the chat went wild.

“SHE’S HEREEEE” “THE QUEEN HAS ARRIVED” “HOLD ON, SHE’S CARRYING SNACKS??” “I’m so single it’s painful”

“Dinner delivery for one Mr. Lando Norris,” Y/N announced, placing the plate in front of him with a flourish like she was a waiter at a five-star restaurant. “Sir, your steak and garlic butter potatoes. Compliments of the chef.”

“Oh, you’re too good to me, babe,” Lando said, eyes wide with dramatic awe. He glanced at the plate like it was a priceless treasure, then looked at the camera, pointing at Y/N. “Chat, look at this. Are you seeing this? Chef Y/N at it again. Tell me I’m not the luckiest guy in the world.”

“You’re not,” Max’s voice cut in, laughing. “I’m still here eating microwave noodles, mate.”

“Skill issue,” Y/N shot back casually, leaning down to glance at Lando’s second monitor. The chat’s speed had tripled. Her lips twitched into a smile. “They’re calling you a simp, by the way.”

“I am a simp,” Lando declared without hesitation, holding a fork like it was a scepter. “And I have no regrets.” He stabbed a piece of steak and stuffed it into his mouth, eyes closing in exaggerated bliss. “Oh, my days. This is illegal. You’re ruining me.”

“Man’s got his priorities right,” Aaron’s voice chimed in through the headset.

Y/N’s laughter bubbled out, light and melodic, and she shook her head. “Don’t choke on it, simp. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” She leaned in and tapped a quick kiss to his cheek, which sent the chat into meltdown.

“CLIP IT, CLIP IT RIGHT NOW” “THE KISS. THE KISS. WE’VE WON.” “I’m crying. They’re so in love it’s disgusting.”

Lando’s cheek flushed pink as he glanced back at the camera, his grin stretching wider than it should. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m done for,” he said, rubbing his cheek where her lips had been like he could still feel it. “But you’d be too if you had Y/N bringing you garlic butter potatoes, alright? Don’t be jealous. It’s not a good look.”

“You’re insufferable,” Ria sighed. “But also, I’d like to formally request a plate.”

“Tell Y/N I’ll pay her to ship it to me,” Max added.

“She’s not taking requests,” Lando shot back, grinning like a man with the world’s greatest secret. “This exclusive menu is mine and mine alone.” He held up the plate to the camera, displaying the perfectly cooked steak and crispy golden potatoes. “Look at that. The chat’s in shambles. They’re losing it. I would be too, honestly.”

He glanced toward the door, his grin softening as he caught sight of Y/N’s figure passing by in the hallway. “Yeah,” he muttered to himself, eyes trailing her for a moment longer before turning back to the camera. “I’m absolutely done for.”

“Somebody save this man,” Aaron’s voice cackled, but Lando didn’t even hear it.

“Don’t want to be saved, mate,” Lando said, mouth full of potatoes. He raised his glass toward the camera like he’d done a hundred times before. “Cheers to being a simp, yeah? I’ll happily stay down bad forever.”

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

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✐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

m & s | sebastian vettel

like my dirty diana jenson fic, the reader will have a name and last name and faceclaim, but you are more than welcome to use any other faceclaim!! or name if you want <3 this is just for fanfic purposes :) part 2 coming soon <3

fcaeclaim elizabeth olsen

2018

MESSAGES

s

hi, i heard you’re taking a break. just wanted to let you know that our house in monaco is still available if you want to stay there.

m

oh, you never sold it?

s

selling it didn’t feel right. you still have your key?

m

yes. i’ll think about it. i might stay here in LA though

S

oh. sounds fine too. i figured you would want to get out of america, but where ever you feel comfortable :) you deserve to take a break

m

thank you, sebastian. so do you..

s

eventually

ink || cl16

_______________________________________

summary: charles and his girlfriend start expressing their love through ink.

pairing: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader

warnings: use of y/n, time skipping, tattoos (idek if that needs a warning but just in case), and nothing else i guess, just some cute fluff.

faceclaim: katarina demetriades

a/n: this is inspired by my desperate need to see charles getting tattoos and to get a new tattoo myself :) also do you guys have tattoos? i would love to know! enjoy <3

feedback is always appreciated.

MASTERLIST

do not copy/repost/translate my work anywhere!

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charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, iamy/n and 503,667 more.

charles_leclerc weekend dump 🤍

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username1 i love this happy family

username2 how long have they been together for?

username3 almost three years now 🥹

iamy/n love you ❤️

username4 the watermelon hat 🤏🏻

scuderiaferrari here for the leo content 🫶🏼

username5 the real star here

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iamy/n

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and 601,777 more.

iamy/n call us fireboy and watergirl 🤭

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username1 OH MY GOD

username2 this is so freaking cute i can't

username3 I LOVED THAT GAME OMG

carlossainz55 did charles cry?

charles_leclerc no i didn't. 🙂‍↔️

iamy/n he didn't, he squeezed my hand a little harder than i expected tho 🫣

charles_leclerc baby don't expose me like that

username4 matching tattoos is the ultimate couple goals

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iamy/n

liked by scuderiaferrari, arthur_leclerc and 588,672 more.

iamy/n thank you monza for being so good to my man 🥹 of course we had to get something to remember it ❤️‍🔥

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username1 YES GIRL GET CHARLES FULL OF TATTOOS

username2 it just makes so much sense that he got a red one

charles_leclerc thank you for always being by my side ❤️

iamy/n my pleasure ❤️

username3 she looks so happy omg 😭

scuderiaferrari let the celebrations begin! 🍾

username4 PARENTS

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charles_leclerc

liked by scuderiaferrari, pierregasly and 762,012 more.

charles_leclerc spotted the hottest woman on earth on a billboard and then got a tattoo with her 👀🖤

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username1 get married please 🗣

username2 y/n is so pretty omg

pierregasly this needs to stop, kika wants to get one now 🙄

charles_leclerc do it, it's a lot of fun

username3 the way charles talks like a tattoo expert now

username4 always and forever 😭😭😭😭

username5 adopt me please

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iamy/n

liked by francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc and 695,990 more.

iamy/n last night got a bit out of hand 🐍🖤

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username1 THIS IS SO HOT WTF

username2 you guys are too much 🥵

arthur_leclerc oh maman is gonna love this one 😅

iamy/n zip it 🤐

username3 i don't know if i want to be y/n or charles honestly

leclerc_pascale what is this 😧

charles_leclerc i'm sorry mom 🫶🏼

username4 i love charles' new addiction to tattoos

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charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 815,293 more.

charles_leclerc happy third anniversary my love, you mean the world to me 🤍 (she was mad in the first pic because i didn't want to tell her what the surprise was)

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username1 happy three years of being the cutest couple on earth 🫶🏼

username3 what does it mean??

username2 the red string of fate 🥹🥹

username4 there's a myth that suggests that an invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet and be together, the string may stretch and tangle but never break

username3 CRYING

iamy/n i wanted to know so bad 😩 i love you, my heart is yours 💌

username5 oh to be mad and look so cute

francisca.cgomes pierregasly PLEASE LOOK HOW CUTE

username6 lmao pierre get a tattoo!!

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iamy/n

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 774,903 more.

iamy/n love it when he calls me that 💌

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username1 i gasped

username2 she just got his pet name for her tattooed imagine the power his voice holds 🛐

charles_leclerc i'm still shocked, thank you for the surprise i love you 🤍

iamy/n i love you more ❤️

username3 can they get any cuter???

username4 THAT'S HIS HANDWRITING 😭

leclerc_pascale i like this one a lot better ☺️

iamy/n thank you maman 🫶🏼

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charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, leclerc_pascale and 850,901 more.

charles_leclerc before and after she found out i got her fingerprints on my arm 😅

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username1 i will never get over this

username2 HER EYES

username3 oh she is the woman of your dreams

iamy/n you are insane, i love you 🤍

username4 i love my parents

arthur_leclerc you don't have to thank me for taking the pictures, don't worry 🙄

charles_leclerc so dramatic

username5 i want what they have 😩

___________________♡___________________

no finish line

Pairing: Lando Norris x therapist!reader

Summary: When Lando sought to find help, he found you.

Word count: 3k+

Warnings: little angst, insecurities, fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Lando's life seemed like a whirlwind of chaos and adrenaline to those on the outside looking in. A Formula 1 driver with a charismatic charm that had the world at his feet, Lando was the dream of every motorsport fan. The flashing lights, the roaring crowds, the podium celebrations—on the surface, it was everything anyone could ever want. But reality was far from the glitz and glamour people imagined.

Beneath the helmet, behind the cheerful interviews and easygoing smiles, was a young man grappling with a world that never let him slow down. He was just a kid from Bristol who had a passion for racing, who had fought his way into the most elite motorsport on the planet. Yet, with that dream came an invisible weight—one that pressed on his chest so tightly he sometimes struggled to breathe. The pressure, the expectations, the relentless scrutiny—it was suffocating.

Every race was a war, not just against his rivals on the track but against the voices in his own head. Every lap, every corner, every fraction of a second mattered. A single mistake could mean the difference between hero and failure. And when he wasn’t behind the wheel, the judgment never stopped. Every camera shutter captured moments that could be twisted into headlines. Every social media post became a battlefield, flooded with both admiration and brutal criticism. Every whisper of doubt—whether from analysts, fans, or even his own mind—followed him relentlessly, lingering in the silence of his hotel room at night.

The noise never stopped.

Even after the adrenaline of the race had faded, the echoes remained. Sleep became an elusive luxury. He’d lie awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying his mistakes, wondering if he was good enough, if he’d ever be good enough. Some nights, the walls felt like they were closing in, trapping him in his own thoughts. So he found ways to escape—pacing the halls, taking midnight drives through dimly lit streets, trying to outrun the anxiety clawing at his chest. But no matter how far he drove, it was always there, lurking in the rearview mirror.

He knew he needed help.

His closest friends saw the cracks beneath the surface, the exhaustion in his eyes no amount of caffeine or forced laughter could hide. His mother, Cisca, saw it too—the way his shoulders slumped under the weight of expectations, how the sport he once loved seemed to drain him rather than ignite him. She saw the way he hesitated before stepping into the car, as if the thing that once set him free had now become his prison.

She refused to stand by and watch her son break.

That’s when she found you.

Lando wasn’t eager about therapy. The idea of sitting in a room and talking about his feelings felt unnatural, even suffocating. He was used to dealing with things on his own—brushing off doubts with humor, locking away the pressure behind a confident grin. Vulnerability wasn’t in his nature. It wasn’t how he had survived in this world.

But he trusted his mum. And if this was what it took to ease the worry in her eyes, to stop her from watching him like he was one sharp breath away from breaking—he’d do it. Not for himself. For her.

The first time he walked into your office, he felt out of place. The air was calm, the walls lined with soft, neutral colors that were meant to be inviting, but to him, they were unfamiliar. His fingers fidgeted with the zipper of his jacket as he sat down, his knee bouncing slightly. He kept his gaze low, scanning the room, already counting down the minutes until he could leave.

He half-expected you to be like everyone else—clinical, detached, another stranger who saw him as a case file rather than a person. But then you spoke.

“Lando, I’m so glad you’re here. My name is Y/N, and as you may have guessed I'm a therapist. This space is yours, no pressure, no expectations. Just you and me, talking.”

There was something in your voice—steady, warm, genuine. No scripted pleasantries, no forced professionalism. Just you.

The tension in his shoulders loosened, only slightly, but enough for him to notice.

“Yeah,” he muttered, shifting in his seat. “Talking about my problems. That’s the hard part.”

“Then we won’t start with talking about that,” you said simply. “Tell me about your week. Not the racing part—just you. What made you smile? What pissed you off? What was the highlight of your week?”

That threw him.

Everyone always asked about the races, the performance, the expectations. No one ever asked about him. Not like this. Not with the expectation of an honest answer, not with the patience to actually listen.

For a moment, he just stared at you, processing. Waiting for the catch. But there wasn’t one. You weren’t trying to fix him. You weren’t analyzing him like a machine that needed recalibration.

And for some reason, that made something inside him click.

So he talked.

You watched Lando carefully as he struggled to find the words, his hesitation palpable. He fidgeted in his seat, a nervous energy that filled the room, his fingers tapping against the armrest. The silence stretched between you, and you didn’t rush him. That was his space, and you were there to give him time to process.

“I guess...” he trailed off, the words almost lost in the air. His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. “I’ve been driving at night. Just... getting in the car, going for a drive when everything’s quiet. Just me and the road. No one watching. No cameras. Just... calm.”

The honesty in his words caught you off guard, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you nodded slowly, giving him the space to continue if he wanted to, letting the weight of what he’d said settle. You could see it, though—the way his shoulders dropped slightly as if he was relieved to finally share this part of himself.

“That sounds like a good escape,” you said softly, your voice steady but warm. “A way to just be... Lando, not the driver. What did it feel like, when you were driving alone at night?”

You saw him exhale, his breath slow and deliberate as he processed your question. You hadn’t expected him to answer immediately. Instead, you watched him—the subtle shifts in his expression, the way his gaze flickered as if he was unsure whether or not he should speak this truth aloud. You didn’t push. You let the room stay quiet, giving him the time he needed.

When he spoke again, it was softer than before, almost as if he was letting you in on something very private. “It’s... nice. It’s the only time I can just... breathe. There’s no pressure, no one telling me what to do or what to think. I can just exist.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and you felt a pang of recognition. You’d heard this before, though not in these exact words. It was a struggle many faced, trying to reconcile who they were with the role they’d been forced into. He was looking at you now, and in his eyes, you saw something he didn’t always show the world: vulnerability.

You nodded, keeping your voice soft but firm. “That’s important, Lando. You deserved to have those moments, even in the chaos. What if we could find more ways for you to feel that... when you weren’t behind the wheel? When you weren’t in the spotlight?”

You let the question settle between you, watching him carefully. His eyes flickered with uncertainty, a slight furrow in his brow as he considered it. You could see the thought swirling in his mind, the struggle to picture a life that wasn’t constantly surrounded by noise and expectation.

You didn’t rush him. You were there for him to explore this, at his own pace. You waited, watching as he processed the weight of what you’d said.

“I don’t know,” he said finally, his voice small, quieter now. “I guess I could try. Maybe.”

You smiled gently, a small, understanding smile that invited him to keep going, if he chose to. You could see the shift in him, the small flicker of hope that had started to appear, even if he wasn’t sure how to hold onto it just yet.

You didn’t press. Instead, you allowed the silence to stay with you both for a moment, not uncomfortable but calm. It was a moment for him to breathe, to think, and to start to picture something different for himself. You gave him that space, allowing the weight of your words to sit there with him.

You didn’t know where this journey would take him, but right then, in that quiet moment, you saw something changing in him. Something that felt almost like relief—a shift in perspective, even if it was only just starting to take root.

You kept your voice steady, not forcing anything, but still offering the support he needed. “You don't have to have all the answers right now. But you could figure it out, step by step. You don't have to be perfect, Lando. You just have to be you.”

You gave him a moment to digest this, watching as the quiet settled in. It was clear that this conversation, this opening, was the beginning of something. It wasn’t the end of his struggle, but perhaps it was the first breath he’d taken in a long time.

Two hours passed like minutes.

He was amazed at how talking could relieve him so much. Especially talking with you.

And then there were your eyes—warm, understanding, holding something he couldn’t quite name. A whole galaxy, maybe. He didn’t understand how, after just two hours, he felt so drawn to you. It made no sense. But if two hours with you felt like this, he couldn’t imagine what a lifetime would feel like.

At the end of the session, you smiled, tilting your head slightly as you met his gaze. “Lando, I’d love to see you again next week. Same time?”

For a second, he hesitated. He wasn’t the kind of person who did this—who willingly came back to talk about things he spent years avoiding.

But then he heard his own voice, softer than he expected. Almost uncertain.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

And the truth was, he wasn’t uncertain at all.

He wanted to see you again. Needed to. Even if it meant sitting through therapy, even if it meant confronting the things he had spent so long running from—he didn’t care. Because for the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn’t alone in this.

He left your office feeling lighter, like he could breathe without his own mind working against him.

Week after week, session after session, he fell. Hard.

It wasn’t sudden, like the dramatic, earth-shattering crashes he had experienced on the track. No, this was different. It was slow, insidious—like the way dusk faded into night, so gradual that he barely noticed it happening until he was already lost in the dark. Or maybe, in this case, the light.

He learned about you in the quietest of ways.

The fresh lilies in your office, are always the same, their soft fragrance filling the air as if they belonged there just as much as you did. The way you tucked your hair behind your ear when listening intently, your brows knitting together as if absorbing every syllable he spoke. The way your dimples only appeared when you laughed—really laughed the kind that made your shoulders shake and your eyes crinkle at the corners. The small tattoo on your wrist that you traced absentmindedly when deep in thought as if grounding yourself at the moment.

And then there was the way you chewed on the tip of your pen, lost in his words, as if every single one of them mattered. The faint freckles dusted across your nose—ones he didn’t notice at first, but then he saw them in the sunlight, and suddenly, they were all he could see. The delicate silver ring on your finger that you twisted absentmindedly when something weighed on your mind.

Every detail about you etched itself into his memory like a permanent marker, an imprint he couldn't erase. Not that he wanted to.

He never mentioned you to his family. Never let your name slip past his lips, not even in passing. Because if he did, his mother would see right through him.

Cisca was perceptive. She always had been. She would notice the way his eyes lit up at the mere mention of therapy, how his shoulders didn’t seem to carry the same invisible burdens they once did. How he had started humming under his breath while making breakfast, fingers tapping idly on the countertop. How he lingered a little too long on his phone after sessions, rereading messages that weren’t even from you—just automated appointment confirmations that made his stomach flip in a way he didn’t understand.

She would know.

And she did.

She saw the shift in her son. The way his laugh came easier now, unforced, not just a practiced performance for cameras and fans. The way he was more present, no longer lost in a perpetual cycle of exhaustion and self-doubt. The way he gazed out of windows, lost in thought, a secret kind of warmth flickering in his expression like a candle in the dark.

Cisca had been a mother long enough to recognize that look. She had seen it before, in fleeting moments of her youth, in the pages of love stories, in the eyes of those who didn’t yet realize they had fallen.

She knew exactly who was responsible.

Then, one day, it happened.

He didn’t plan it. Didn’t think about it. Didn’t weigh the consequences or try to stop himself. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could catch them, reckless and raw, spoken into existence before he could take them back.

"Would you go out with me?"

The words left his lips before he had the chance to second-guess them, before he could let fear hold them hostage in his throat.

The anxiety in his mind—always there, always whispering doubts—was suddenly drowned out by the deafening sound of his heartbeat. His pulse pounded in his ears, his hands clenching at the fabric of his sweater as he waited for your answer. A thousand worst-case scenarios flashed through his mind like a race replay he couldn’t turn off.

That he was embarrassing himself. That you’d say no. That he had just ruined everything.

Your lips parted in surprise, your breath catching for just a moment. His stomach twisted into knots as he watched you search for the right words.

"Lando… I don’t know what to say."

His chest tightened.

"I’m flattered, really. You’re an incredible person with a heart of gold. But I can’t."

The air in the room suddenly felt thinner, like all the oxygen had been sucked out.

"You’re my patient, and I won’t risk my career because of my feelings."

His world should have shattered in that moment. He should have felt devastated, humiliated, ready to run and never look back.

But he didn’t.

Because despite the rejection, despite the ache settling in his ribs, all he could think about was how much more he admired you.

You had principles. You had integrity. You were strong, unwavering, even when it would’ve been easier to bend.

And God, that only made him fall harder.

But he wasn’t about to let you go so easily.

"What if I see another therapist?" Lando blurted out, his voice filled with quiet desperation. "You’ve helped me more than I can ever explain. I’ve never been more confident in myself, and I owe that to you. But I want to be more than just your patient. Please, let me try."

You hesitated, conflict evident in your eyes, and for a split second, he thought he saw something else there, too—something you were trying desperately to suppress.

"Lando, this isn’t just about rules," you said carefully. "This is about what’s best for you. Therapy isn’t just a checkbox to get through so you can be with someone."

"I know that," he said quickly, his voice firm, unwavering. "And I mean it when I say I want to keep going. But with someone else. Not because I don’t need it anymore, but because I know what I want."

He was staring straight at you now, eyes burning with something raw, something real.

And it terrified you.

Because what if this wasn’t just infatuation? What if, despite everything, he was serious?

Silence stretched between you, thick with uncertainty, with unspoken words neither of you dared to voice.

Then, finally, you exhaled, your shoulders dropping ever so slightly as a small, reluctant smile played at your lips.

"If you’re sure, I can recommend my colleague Farah."

Lando’s heart slammed against his ribs.

"So… does that mean—?"

You inhaled deeply, looking up at him, something soft and unreadable in your gaze.

"It means you’re no longer my patient."

His breath hitched.

"And if you’re still sure in a few weeks, maybe we can talk about something else."

For the first time in a long time, Lando felt like he wasn’t just existing—he was alive.

A grin broke across his face, wide and genuine, the kind of smile he hadn’t worn in what felt like forever.

"I’ll wait. However long it takes."

And for the first time, he wasn’t just racing toward another podium, another trophy, another fleeting moment of victory.

This time, he was racing toward something real.

Something worth waiting for.

Something worth fighting for.

A future.

SYNOPSIS Lando Norris is notorious for being a party boy—a fuck boy, even—with his numerous entanglements, fleeting thrills, and reckless nights. He's never expected to find anyone who could make him want more. But then he spots you—grounded, responsible, and effortlessly captivating—and he realizes he might be in trouble. All it took was one conversation, one exchanged number, and suddenly, the life he’s always known doesn’t seem as fulfilling anymore.

CHAPTERS ᡣ𐭩 One: I Thought I Had Everything, I Was Lonely ᡣ𐭩 Two: Got My Head In The Clouds, Counting All My Stars ᡣ𐭩 Three: Could You Tell Where My Head Was At When You Found Me? ᡣ𐭩 Four: Me And You Went To Hell And Back Just To Find Peace ᡣ𐭩 Epilogue: In My Ears, Said The World Was Ours