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#f1 fic
sunrizef1 · 1 day
Text
big reputation
Pairing: Logan Sargeant x reader, Max Verstappen x ex!reader
Warnings: cheating, lying, manipulation
Authors note: kinda hate this but whatever
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1 kellypiquet and 6,889,007 others
yourusername happy 5 years with this wonderful, talented, beautiful, amazing man. I’m so proud of everything you do and you manage to amaze me every single day. Thank you so much for showing me what true love can be and for sticking beside me every day. From the boats of Monaco to the villas of Spain to the beaches of Brazil, I love you forever my darling xx
Tagged: maxverstappen1
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user1 my parents <3
user2 I want what they have
user3 if she’s not like this I don’t want her
user4 the roses 🥹
user5 the love and support they have for each other is so amazing
user6 the way she’s almost never missed a race 😭🫶
maxverstappen1 ❤️❤️❤️
yourusername ❤️❤️❤️
user7 they’re so in love I can’t
user8 sleeping on the highway tonight
charles_leclerc Happy Anniversary!! 🥳
yourusername thank you Charles! xx
user9 the real royal couple
user10 when is max going to propose lmao
user11 they seem so happy together aw
carlossainz félicitations! 🎊🍾🎉
yourusername thank you chili!
user12 🥰🥰🥰
user13 that caption is so adorable
user14 we need new music about this man pls queen
user15 I feel a love album coming on
logansargeant 🎉
liked by yourusername
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1 kellypiquet and 3,898,001 others
yourusername Friendship that will last forever <33 xx It was great to see you love @/kellypiquet
Tagged: kellypiquet
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user14 love this friendship
user15 got here before max did… proud of myself
user16 two pretty best friends
user17 their friendship is so pure I love them 😭
user18 the way y/n is so intertwined into f1 despite being from a completely different profession is so special to me 🫶
kellypiquet 🫶
yourusername 🫶
user19 oh to be y/n l/n
user20 new music when????
user21 why is Logan lurking lmao
user22 that is an international pop-star from his state… she has 122 million followers… she’s often on the grid… I don’t think this rly needs an explanation.
user21 I just think it’s weird cuz he’s not rly friends with max but he still knows him. Kinda weird to be lurking on the page of an acquaintances girlfriend.
user22 Dude she has 15 Grammys… she’s not a secret
user23 lowk the piquets are problematic but yall don’t wanna hear about that
user24 I’m just glad y/n is happy tbh
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user41
🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄
user42
what a lie lmao 😵‍💫
user43
Justice for max
user44
I love you y/n!!! 🫶
user45
🖕🖕🖕🖕
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yourusername
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liked by logansargeant taylorswift and 12,009,887 others
yourusername every days a new day ☀️
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user25 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍
user26 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍
user27 🐍🐍🐍🐍
user28 we still love you y/n 🫶
user29 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍
user30 we believe you ❤️
user31 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍
user32 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍
user33 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍
user34 we know you're not lying ❤️ it's gonna be okay 🫶
user35 she's a lying snake 🐍🐍🐍
user34 she said the call was doctored and I believe her
user36 it sounds pretty real to me 🐍🐍🐍
user34 I know she wouldn't do that. She loved max too much. She's proven time and time again to be a genuine, kind person and until the full call has been released, I'm going to believe her.
user37 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍
user38 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍
user39 max not defending her proves it's true 🐍🐍🐍 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍
user40 Logan liking… guess he's siding with the liar then 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍
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maxverstappen1
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liked by charles_leclerc kellypiquet and 6,009,887 others
maxverstappen1 healing.
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user46 😍😍😍
user47 I'm so glad max is able to heal after what y/n did
user48 thank god that snake is gone 🐍
user49 kelly being there for max is so sweet
user50 I'm so happy they stayed friends 😭
charles_leclerc good times bro 🫶
maxverstappen1 😅
user51 😵😵😵
user52 y/n didn't do anything
user53 better off without y*n 😵‍💫
used54 I never liked y/n l/n lmao she's always been annoying
logansargeant 👍
liked by maxverstappen
user55 I'm just so happy kelly and max have each other and they weren't torn apart by y/n cheating
user56 you guys are so annoying that call is obviously fake
user57 she literally admits to in the recording what are you talking about
user56 the things she says in it are so vague she could literally be talking about anything. And we don't even hear the other persons responses. They could've 100% been prompting her to say this. Why would they cut them out if they wanted to prove they were telling the truth.
user57 🐍🐍🐍
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7 MONTHS LATER… NO SIGHT OF Y/N
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logansargeant has added to their story
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maxverstappen1
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liked by kellypiquet redbullracing and 2,008,990 others
maxverstappen1 Ready for Imola! 👊
tagged: kellypiquet
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user58 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍
user59 we all heard the call
user60 lied for what
user61 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍
user62 y/n deserves an apology
user63 we 🫶 max and kelly
user64 nah, speak for yourself 🐍
user65 ruined your girlfriends life for a full year just so you could date her best friend... And for what??? Why did you decide you needed to ruin her career and her life just for the sake of a relationship
user66 don't listen to these idiots, y/n deserves what you did
user67 I understand why they did it tbh, y/n is so annoying
user68 🐍🐍🐍
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yourusername
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liked by logansargeant lilyhme and 21,998,879 others
yourusername all I think about is karma
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user69 COMMENTS ARE BACK ON
user70 MY QUEEN Y/N
user71 🐍🐍🐍
user72 now why did Charles like this post… my man literally defended max last year when this happened 😭
user73 the only drivers I’d accept to be a part of this is Carlos, Lewis and Logan. The only ones who defended her the whole time.
user74 and Fernando!!!
carlossainz mi hermana! El mundo te extrano 😁
yourusername gracias carlito, Aunque no creo que me hayan extrañado 😅
carlossainz Te extrañé, entonces 🤣
Translation: (my sister! The world missed you) (Thank you carlito, though I don’t think the world missed me) (I missed you, then)
user75 Carlos being on the right side of history… he ends your favs
user76 notice that all of the flops have shut right up now that it’s been proven that their favorite cheater was lying the whole time
user77 all the hottest drivers have been on y/n’s side…
fernandoalo_official ¿Cómo estuvo el descanso? 😁
yourusername relajante 😅
fernandoalo_official ¿porqué es eso? 🤔
yourusername 🤫
translation: (how was the break?) (relaxing 😅) (why is that? 🤔) (🤫)
user78 the comments from the drivers are so cute
user79 I didn’t know she spoke Spanish
lewishamilton welcome back, y/n 🥳
yourusername thanks lew 🫶
user80 bestie for the resties with lew 🥰
user81 my top 3 drivers all commenting on my number 1 artists’ post… you love to see it
user82 I sense aoty
logansargeant isn’t it delicate?
yourusername isn’t it?
user83 wtf are these hoes talking about
user84 my glorious queen y/n l/n
user85 🐍🐍🐍
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liked by logansargeant danielricciardo and 49,008,776 others
yourusername reputation 5/23/24
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user86 WHAT THE HELL
user87 NAHHHHHHHH
user88 is max ready to die?
user89 🐍
user90 breakup album?!?!?!
user91 max never to be seen again
charles_leclerc 🐍
yourusername 🐍
user92 and Charles is here, why? That man was first in line for the y/n hate train I don’t want to hear it.
fernandoalo_official slay
yourusername ?
user93 y/n and Alonso’s comments are killing me
user94 my favorite cheater and snake 💋
user95 who cares, no one likes youuuu
user96 she hasn’t been good since fearless
logansargeant so it goes
yourusername …
user97 these bitches love to chat about nothing for the sake of the plot istg
lilymhe 🫶
yourusername 🫶
user98 AWWWW LILY
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liked by charles_leclerc landonorris and 34,998,770 others
yourusername got some big enemies… reputation out now 🐍
Tagged: lewishamilton charles_leclerc edsheeran
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user99 XNDA!?????? Y/N BROUGHT BACK XNDA!?
user100 THESE ARENT BREAK UP SONGS Y/N
user101 SHE ATE SHE SERVED SHE DIDNT COME HERE TO PLAY
user102 nah because Lewis makes sense, that man has like a real-life mainstream artist song… WTF IS CHARLES DOING HERE????
user103 I haven’t even listened to the album yet because I’m too shocked by the track list 😭
user104 wtf do you mean Lewis and ed Sheeran made a song together??? 7-time wdc Lewis Hamilton and ginger boy ed Sheeran??? Nah
user105 releasing the album right before arguably the biggest and most historic race of the season… y/n I know who you are
user106 oh the amount of questions max is going to get about this album
logansargeant walking with his head down
yourusername I’m the one he’s walking to
user107 SONG LYRICS SONG LYRICS
carlossainz muy bueno hermosa!!! 🖤
yourusername gracias Carlos 🥹 🫶
user108 big brother Carlos, don’t talk to me I’m delicate 😭🫶
charles_leclerc thank you for inviting me! 🖤
yourusername none of this would’ve happened without you, cha! Merci beaucoup mon ami! 🖤
user109 huh???
user110 what did Charles add to this situation??
user111 we’ve all moved on way too quickly from whatever tf Logan is doing here
user112 lowk he was the mastermind behind it all but yall don’t wanna talk about that
lewishamilton the album is absolutely amazing, honored to be a part of it. Very proud of you, y/n 🖤🖤🖤
yourusername 🥹 love you lew
user113 NOW WHO TF IS THIS ALBUM ABOUT
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@casperlikej @evie-119
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jamminvroomvroom · 3 days
Note
congrats on 5k queen! you’re writing is so brilliant beyond belief and you deserve all the love and support this site has to offer. can i request lando+angsty smut (the best combo)…prompts along the lines of “i don’t think im ever going to love anyone the way i love you”//“i don’t think i want to love anyone else”
how did it end?
ln x famous fem!reader
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in which it ends, until…
i love this fic with my whole heart. thank u sm for this request, anon, and for being so absolutely for gorgeous and kind <3 kicking off the 5k celebration with a big, sad, sexy bang! lemme know what you think, hugs n kisses
songs to set the mood: how did it end? by taylor swift
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst angst angst, fluff, happy ending! exes to lovers, just. a lot going on. sad!lando, sad!everyone, so many feels, r is a big deal model, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking
4.1k words
one gasp, and then…
“how did it end?” the woman strokes your arm, soothing, tentative.
you don’t know her all that well, she’s signed to the same agency as you, you see her in the halls sometimes and sit next to her in makeup chairs.
you stare blankly at her, registering. news travels fast apparently.
you smile, small, fake, tilting your head to the side. you mumble something about different schedules, timezones, right person, wrong time. she watches your face intently, with sympathy. you want to throttle her. she’s being kind and you despise her for it right now.
“i won’t tell anyone.” she affirms, her fingers still smoothing over the skin of your arm.
yes you will, you think. all of her friends, the rest of the building will know exactly what you’ve told her by the time you get to your meeting. you don’t begrudge her, though, that’s the nature of the industry.
“well, it was good to see you.” you nod, even go in for a quick hug, and then you speed away, beelining for the elevator. the ride is short, your managers office somewhere on the third floor and you shuffle down the corridor, ready to be informed of what your life will look like for the next three months.
fittings, shoots, paris trip.
mhm.
swimwear season, charlotte tilbury, meeting with the vogue journalist.
cool.
week off, few days in london, monaco grand prix.
no.
“what? no.” you splutter. out of habit, you reach for a necklace, frown when you realise it’s no longer there.
“what do you mean, no?” she narrows her eyes at you.
“i can’t go to the race. no.”
“girl, i love you, but did i ask?”
“you know i can’t-“
“you won’t have to see him.” she reasons.
“but what if i do? he’s obviously gonna be there, and the events before and after- no. no.”
“lando norris is not gonna be the end of you.”
you stifle a laugh, one that sounds more like a strangled cry.
what if he already was?
-
look who we ran into at the shops,
walking in circles like he was lost
lando stares at the shampoo.
specifically, the one you use. used. he can’t be too sure anymore, he supposes.
he’d popped out for a loaf of bread, about an hour ago. he didn’t want to acknowledge how long he’d been staring at the women’s toiletries section.
you seemed to live on, everywhere. lando could see you in his apartment, the passenger seat of his car, the back of the garage. even the fucking supermarket wasn’t safe. you were very much alive, moving on with life, and yet you haunted him like he’d killed you himself.
perhaps he had, in a way.
the basket grazes the outside of his leg.
that’s the shower gel he’d buy for you, the one you only used when you stayed with him in monaco.
there’s the tampons you asked him to buy, crying back at home on your- his bed.
oh, and there’s the shampoo that you made him buy, the one that you told him made his curls feel extra fluffy when he was between your legs-
“lando?” a voice calls, drawing lando out of the mist.
“oh, alex. hey.” lando croaks. he hasn’t noticed the lump in his throat until now. he clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.
“what you doing, mate?” alex asks, eyebrows furrowed. he scans lando’s face, puffy eyes, watery.
“shopping.”
“for women’s shampoo?”
“no, no, just… looking.” lando stutters.
“when was the last time you slept?” alex’s voice is laced with concern, apprehensive. he doesn’t know what to say to his heartbroken friend.
lando smiles weakly.
“i’ve been sleeping.”
alex sighs.
“okay, when was the last time you slept properly, then?”
lando’s shoulders visibly sag.
“about a month ago.”
-
we hereby conduct this post-mortem
“we can’t do this anymore.”
the words fall from your lips in a whisper, but they reach him like you’ve screamed them at him. he sits opposite you, in the arm chair, so far away, only a metre or so.
“i know.” lando breathes shakily.
“i don’t want this but…”
“yeah.”
it’s been such a good year. you’re in love. it’s not enough. there’s too much distance, too many outsider opinions, too much longing for someone who’s on the other side of the world.
he’ll be in london. you’ll be in brazil.
he’ll be in australia. you’ll be in amsterdam.
it’s too much.
“i love you, though.” you remind him meekly.
“don’t know how to not love you.” he sniffles.
your heart shatters, the pieces flying over the room, spilling across the floor. they mix with the splinters of his, painting the room red. all you feel is blue.
you cry in his arms when he takes you to bed, his own tears spilling over your collar bone when he buries his head in your neck, licks over the marks he’s left there. to remember me by, he’d muttered dryly.
when you’re both finished, he lays there for a moment, still on top of you. damp with sweat and tears, the taste of one another still lingering on your tongues.
“how is it possible that i miss you already?” he pants, lips grazing just below your ear.
“i get it, lan. i’ve been missing you for a while.”
you’re gone when he wakes up.
and so, a touch that was my birthright became foreign
-
come one, come all
it’s happening again
the empathetic hunger descends
there are about six cameras pointed at you when he asks the dreaded question.
you’re in new york, sat on a talk show hosts sofa, lit by stage lights and his inquisitive eyes. two hundred people sit in the audience, on the edge of their seats waiting for you to spill your secrets.
“so, what happened there, with lando?”
you plaster on the fakest smile to date, crossing your legs anxiously.
“we’re both just so busy, you know? he’s doing amazing things in f1 and i’m all over the place with work.”
“we love both of you over here, it was sad to hear.” he sympathises, adjusting his tie and leaning back in his chair. his fingers drum over the wood of his desk, waiting for more.
vultures. everyone is a vulture.
“and we still have a lot of love for each other. he’s a wonderful person.”
there are tears in your eyes and bile rising rapidly in your throat when you shake hands with the crew, the host, and retreat to your dressing room. you stumble into the en-suite and throw up. then, you fall onto the sofa and cry. you fix your makeup at godspeed and reply to the text from your team, inviting you to drinks at some rooftop bar, promising to meet them there. you punctuate the text with one too many exclamation marks, feigning excitement.
“we still have a lot of love for each other.”
translation: i can’t understand: how did it end?
-
lando watches your interview. of course he does. he watches everything that you do, watches the way you set the world on fire.
he can’t help himself where you’re concerned, like an addict craving the next hit. you look so pretty on tv, glowing. you look fine.
god, why do you look fine?
he hates himself for hating just how fine you look. he is not fine.
“he’s a wonderful person.”
your words ring in his ears. they anger him, because if he’s oh-so-wonderful, why aren’t you here? why isn’t he there with you, waiting backstage? why can’t you just hate him? why can’t he just hate you? maybe you will, if he shows you just how not wonderful he can be.
he gets drunk that night. forces max to hit the clubs with him. sticks his tongue down a pliant woman’s throat. doesn’t ask her name. let’s her invite him back to her place. it has to be her place, he can’t fuck someone else in your bed, the one you used to share. he leaves minutes after he’s pulled out. he’s sure she’s lovely, too good for him and his bitter fucking heart. he feels utterly disgusting.
lando goes home, scrubs his skin red, and then does it again. he doesn’t go to sleep, watches from his balcony as the sun begins to rise over the sea. he hikes to the highest point he can reach in monaco, where it’s quiet and there’s no one to judge him, or worse, sympathise with him.
he stands at the edge of the cliff. screams once, twice. he sits on a rock, and lets himself cry.
the deflation of our dreaming
leaving me bereft and reeling
my beloved ghost and me
sitting in a tree
d-y-i-n-g
-
your stylist is plying you with options.
you can wear the denim with the cream OR you could do the red and white? or we can go full glam! or! or! or! we could-
you drown her out. you don’t give a fuck. not a single one.
what you wear to the monaco grand prix is quite literally the least of the your problems. your biggest problem, of course, is that you have to go to the fucking thing.
visibility is important, get people talking! the words of your manager ring in your ears until you have a dull migraine brewing behind your ears.
you leave the fitting not entirely sure what you’re wearing, but your stylist will be sending the clothes over so you can pack.
when you land in all too familiar nice, there are cameras. when you get to the hotel in monaco, you and lando are already trending on twitter. well, at least he knows you’re coming. when you’re getting your makeup done before your first event, you get a text.
i’ll try and keep my distance.
try.
try is such an interesting word. the fact that he has to try to stay away makes your belly flutter with embarrassing, self loathing butterflies. don’t try too hard, you want to respond. you don’t.
should’ve told you i’d be here you shoot back.
you think i didn’t already know?
of course he knew. he’d probably asked god knows how many brands to invite you. you try and feign an illness but your team drag you kicking and screaming to the event.
-
there are no two ways about it: you’re drunk, on a tuesday night, somewhere in the principality. a few cocktails with a jewellery brand turned into a night on the town, bar hopping with people you hardly knew and barely recognised.
you’re shaking your ass in jimmy’z, pretending to have fun when you see him.
lando stands at the bar, watching you, jaw tensed, eyes solemn. you exit the club faster that his car down a back straight, stumbling into the smoking area. you bum a cigarette from a guy who tries really hard to convince you that he’s the son of a british lord, and sink into the corner, ignoring the people recording you.
depressed model shame smokes outside monaco club because she is fucking pathetic, the headlines will read.
“thought you quit that shit.” his voice washes over your body like you’ve been set on fire, smooth tone, ambiguous accent making you ache.
“i did but then i got forced to come to monaco, so.” you shrug.
“forced?”
“‘m here for work.” you sigh.
“i guess i am too.” he mumbles. you raise an eyebrow.
“you live here, lan.” you tease. lan rolls off of your tongue too sweetly.
“doesn’t feel like it anymore.”
how can it, without you? he wants to scream at you. he can’t, you don’t deserve it.
“how are you?”
you want to touch him.
“shit.”
he needs a taste.
“yeah.”
you put your cigarette out. it tastes like shit, half smoked.
you stand there, stare at each other.
take me home, you want to beg.
come home, he clenches his fists, trying not to grab you and remind you how you’ll always be his, right here, up against the side of the club.
“good luck, if i don’t see you.” you whisper. you linger, praying that he’ll beg you to stay so that you can crumble into his arms, without having to make the first move.
lando ponders his options. his head and his heart wage a war.
logic wins, unfortunately.
“thank you.”
you take that as your queue to get the fuck out of there, and disappear into the night.
-
it’s raining on sunday. the dreary weather seems to perfectly sum up what has been the worst week of your life.
you’ve seen your ex boyfriend more times than you can count, ended up with about four hangovers as a result, and with a pounding head, you have to sit in the paddock club and wait for the sound of engines to split your head in half. it was your own doing, so you’d suck it up, recognising that you were a disgustingly privileged bitch, and there are people who would sell their kidneys to do what you’re complaining about.
you never complain, not usually. but your heart hurts and your body hearts and your mind hurts and it’s just not fair. lando is gorgeous, and you miss him so badly, and your shoes are digging in. who the fuck thinks it’s a good idea to wear heels to an f1 race?
you see him before the race, mouth good luck from afar. he winks. it’s something you used to do before every race. old habits die screaming.
the rain falls harder, the track slick. you say a prayer and take your seat.
“norris has this in the bag, he’s bloody good in the wet.” you hear some old guy say behind you. you are cursed with the knowledge of just how good in the wet he is, and you end up flushed.
he wins. his second one in three races. you pray that no one notices the way you weep. everyone notices.
you make a mistake and rush for the podium, your pass giving you access. he graces the top step and you sob, grinning like a fool, soaked through with rain. the anthem plays, the champagne pops. he finds your eyes in the crowd. your hair falls, stringy and curled, mascara smudged. you are the most breathtaking sight. he stands still, washed with an onslaught of champagne, watching you like he’s scared to take his eyes off of you. his boyish grin and hopeful eyes render you weak - you’re there for him, after all - and he can’t help but bask in that little fact.
dangerous territory. you break, and disappear.
-
say it once again with feeling…
the photographers barely get a second to snap a picture of the top three, because lando is gone. he takes the stairs two at a time, descending from the podium and throwing his pirelli cap and a shaky apology at his pr rep. the adrenaline spike makes his blood rush; he needs to find you and stop you and tell you that he will never be able to stop loving you.
the exit is the natural assumption, and he nearly slips a thousand times as he sprints through the paddock. the ground is wet, but he figures that if his car made it, so can he. the gates are in sight, and so are you, your clothes sticking to your shivering frame.
he calls your name, thunderously travelling towards you, his voice hitting your ears like a sonic boom. you freeze, turn slowly until your facing him. the rain splashes around you, not letting up.
you’re within his reach, and he pulls you in, hugging you tight. you melt into him, clinging like he’s a life force. he inhales you, your scent that he’s missed so horrifically. you crumble, and so does he, pieced back together as one.
“i can’t do this, i can’t.” he kisses the words into the cold skin of your neck.
“no, neither can i.” you choke wetly with emotion.
“miss you too much. it’s too hard, it’s stupid, it’s-“
“wrong. it’s wrong. ‘m sorry.” your breath fans his face, breathing life into him, life that he’d lost four months ago.
he grabs your shoulders, lowering so that his eyes are level with yours. his curls fall over his eyes, sodden from the rain.
“i don’t think, no, i know: i’m never gonna love anyone the way i love you.” lando speaks slow, convincing. your chest is tight.
“i don’t want to love anyone else.” you croak, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.
“come back to me.” he mutters, pleading.
“don’t think i ever left.” you breathe, hushed.
your lips slot over his easily, it’s like breathing. the kiss is messy, helpless, and he engulfs you whole, his body wrapping around yours like a blanket. you latch onto his race-suit, drawing him in, and then you both seem to remember where you are.
lando norris caught kissing ex like horny teenager in monaco paddock!
you pull away with breathless chuckle. the air is fresh, and you feel alive. he steals another peck.
“wait for me at home. i’ll be quick.” his hand finds you ass, just for a second and you scold him playfully.
home.
yeah, home.
“don’t make me wait.” you grin.
his brain short circuits.
“do you still have your key?” he splutters, refocusing.
you scoff. “never took it off the chain.”
-
you pace the apartment, taking in the space. it hasn’t changed, but it’s messier, a visual representation of lando since you left. the pit of your belly swirls with anxiety, anticipation. he’ll be back soon, and he’ll kiss you, make love to you, remind you that you’re home and that it’d be stupid to leave again.
you’re still damp from the rain, shedding layers until you’re left in your vest and jeans, ridiculous heels kicked off by the door, your jacket airing over the back of a chair.
he hasn’t taken down the pictures of you together. he hasn’t moved your ugly collection of magnets from the fridge. he hasn’t changed the blinds that you chose, but he didn’t really like. your candles sit on the bookshelf half burned, the teddy he’d won you at a fair sits neatly on the sofa. the L pendant and it’s chain is strewn over the coffee table, right where you left it the morning after it ended. your breathing is heavy.
the front door opens behind you.
you don’t move, your eyes still fixed on the silver chain, overwhelmed by how empty your neck feels all of the sudden. he comes up behind you, his head resting on your shoulder, arms finding home around your waist. you often used to find yourselves in this exact position; while you brushed your teeth, made coffee. the room is deathly silent, breathing and the distant buzz of post race festivities the only thing you can hear. lando follows your gaze.
“kept it. knew that one day, you’d come back for it.”
“i came back for you.”
“and that necklace will stay with you when i can’t be there.”
you nod. he kisses your neck.
“missed you so bad.” you gasp. he licks your skin, bites down softly.
you spin in his arms, his hands pawing at your hips and everything blurs when he kisses you.
-
shaky fingers work over zippers, buttons, clasps, and then you’re both bare. you sink into the mattress that you missed so much, his body moulded with yours when you both tumble into the sheets. this is messy and frantic, utterly lovestruck. the lightning strike of his touch has you keening, sweating beneath him already.
“missed you. missed this.”
“do something, lan.” you cry, quiet against his shoulder.
“missed my perfect girl.” he grunts, lips working your chest while his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps over your inner thigh.
“please.” you sigh when his fingers dip between your folds, sliding over your wet flesh. his lip catches between his teeth, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of you.
he thumbs at your clit, stroking over you in slow, firm swipes, and then he’s sinking a digit into you, slow and steady. your toes curl, tears pricking your eyes at the intrusion, but you don’t have much of a chance to adjust, a second finger joining the first. he fucks you full, the stretch of just two fingers making you whine, one hand threading into the sheets while the other slams over your mouth. you want to hide, the pleasure rendering you a mess across the pale grey linen.
“no, let me look at you.” lando rasps, spare hand tugging at your wrist. you whine, writhing when he curls his fingers. “why are you hiding?”
you can’t hold back the choked cry that sounds from the back of your throat, his palm bumping your clit as he grinds his fingers deep.
“gone shy on me, baby? where’s my good girl gone?” lando coos, moving so that he’s leaning over you. the angle change sends your legs flying, kicking out at the sweet torture. “‘s because you haven’t been fucked right in so long, hm? can’t remember how to behave?” he’s smirking down at you, scanning the changing lines of your face.
“need it, need-“ you stutter, the words dying on your tongue.
“words, pretty girl, words.” lando encourages, false sympathy dripping from his tongue.
“need to cum, want you to make me…” you trail off.
“was that so hard?” he tuts, and everything speeds up.
the sound of him working you so sweetly makes you shake, your thighs clenching tight around his hand. the wet squelch hits your ears and you blush, cheeks coloured deep with embarrassment, awe, desperation.
your mouth drops open, screaming silently when it hits, your thighs slick. you drip down his wrist, his hand covered in your release.
“there’s my girl.” lando sighs, diving down to kiss you hard.
you can feel the damp press of his fingers as they dig into your thighs and you squirm beneath him, finding your way into his mouth.
“fuck me.” you slur, teeth knocking with his. he swallows you whole, groaning into your mouth.
“not so shy now, hm? been dreaming of hearing you beg for it.” lando shudders, shifting between your legs.
you can feel the press of him, thick against your cunt and you wiggle your hips, pushing to meet him halfway. the stretch burns deliciously, and you grab at his shoulders, dragging him in.
“fuck, baby.” he breathes, sinking into you slowly. “feel like heaven.” disbelief coats his voice, like he can’t reconcile that this is real; you’re back here, his, in the bed you were always supposed to share.
“it’s so good. feel so good for me, lan.” you whisper, lacing your fingers through his hair.
“love you so much.” he kisses you like he means it, rocking into you with purpose.
“can’t believe i lived without this.”
“can’t believe you’re all mine.”
the release builds, every thrust reminding you of what you could have lost for good. there was no lack of love, in fact you were starting to wonder if you had loved each other too much before.
“never losing you again. can’t live without you. my beautiful girl.”
your tummy grows tight, and he finds your clit when he feels you clamp down on him. he pulls you through the pleasure, guides you to your orgasm and you blindly follow him. you’d follow him anywhere, you decide.
you tell him you love him when you let go, spilling all around him, warm. he’s panting, kisses your forehead gently. he rolls off of you, and you feel the slow drip instantly, but you curl into his side and he wraps around you.
home.
“promise me something.” he whispers. you feel the way he shakily inhales.
“hm?”
“don’t leave again. you belong here, too. with me.”
your eyes are watery.
“i’m staying. ‘m yours.”
“about that…”
lando springs from the bed, naked, disappearing from the room. you watch, confused, cold all of the sudden.
you can hear his footsteps padding through the hallway, and then he’s back, his figure in the hallway. he runs, jumps, lands gracelessly next to you. endeared, you laugh softly.
“sit up.”
you do, leaning up to sit next to him. his fingers skim your shoulder, pushing your hair out of the way. cool metal dances over your skin.
“back where it belongs.” lando smiles at you, eyes wide and stunning.
you toy with the L. something heals in your chest, right around where your heart is.
“the sweetest boy.” you shake your head in disbelief, grin up at him like a fool.
“bath?”
“you know me so well, noz.”
come one, come all
it’s happening again
-
oh, my heart. there is something deeply wrong with me
-
taglist
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lexiegreynorris · 1 day
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random lando including one where he can be a bit clingy...
warning: none, just reader and lando bickering, really.
lando norris x gf!reader
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lexiegreynorris ©
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jo-com · 3 days
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆➛ Baby Fever
Charles Leclerc x fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux
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Summary: The three of you raised a child together, and for two years you guys kept it a secret, but after thinking it through, you guys decided that it was finally time to show your daughter to the world.
Genre: Fluff, throuple, pregnancy, overall adorable
words: 890
TW: just some sweet rotting fluff, some grammatical error, not proofread, google translated french cause i can't speak french, sorry if i wrote it wrong.
─────── ─ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ─ ───────
After finding out that the three of you were pregnant, both Charles and Alex were over the moon—excited to meet their unborn baby. The baby hasn't even come out yet, but she/he has already been loved by all three of the parents.
Time had gone by easily; the once small bump in your tummy was now growing like crazy, it was like the size of a watermelon. Your back hurts like hell whenever you stand up but lucky for you, you had the most thoughtful girlfriend ever; always helping you up when you need to. Of course charles was also helpful but he was away most of the time leaving you and alex at home-- you didn't mind though, it was his passion and he loves it plus that's what keeps food at the table so yeah.
And just like that, nine months have passed; it felt like you were just pregnant yesterday and are now ready to give birth to the growing baby in your belly.
For nine whole months, both of them were supportive and caring throughout the whole pregnancy, always being there and staying by your side whenever you needed them.
...
"Are you sure you're ready, mon amour?" Charles asked, softly caressing the roof of your daughters hair.
"I am 100% sure, cha. I am ready to show Béatrice to the world, I think we kept her a secret for a long time now."
"We agree with you, mon cœur, but we just want you to be certain. We can still hide her from the rest and live this perfect little life of ours, just the four of us," Alex said with a worried tone. 
She grabbed your hand and intertwined it with hers, slowly brining it up her lips and softly kissing the top of your hand. "Nous nous inquiétons juste (we just worry). 
You softened at her touch and smiled. "I know you guys are worried, but I just want to show the world the love of my life and that I am living my best life with the two most important people in the world."
Charles and Alex looked at you with awe. They too want to show others the perfect life you guys have; they just worry that some people won't agree with what the three of you have. But they love that you're always optimistic about things, seeing the bright side of even the worst situations.
...
The very next day, you guys decided to watch one of Charles's races, of course, bringing Béatrice along with you.
Charles was already in the paddock, doing practice laps, leaving you, Alex, and your daughter to get ready.
"Are you ready to go, ma belle?" Alex asked, peeking her head in the door frame.
"One sec, love, I am just tying her shoelaces," you replied, tying the knots of her shoes and styling them up like a little bow.
"And....done!" Alex smiled at your adorableness and walked towards to where you and béatrice sat.
Alex was now standing beside you, helping you to carefully stand up. "You look so gorgeous, mon amour," she said, resting her hands on both your waists and slowly leaning closer to give you a kiss. 
You leaned in to the kiss, your hands travelling to rest on her shoulder.
"Maman, ouf (ew)," béatrice said, making you guys break the kiss and look at your daughter. Her tiny nose scrunched up to a frown. She was trying to look disgusted, but with her chubby cheeks, it was hard to tell; she looked like a bunny trying to twitch her nose. Alex only giggled and playfully rolled her eyes. "Tu es juste jaloux (you're just jealous)." "No!" your daughter argued, standing up and lightly smacking Alex's leg. Alex then picked her up and tickling her side making béatrice giggle out loud.
Y/n smiled contentedly, her heart feeling so full of love--there's nothing more heartwarming than the sight in front of her. 
"Ok break it up you two, we have to go now"
Alex smiled and put their daughter down. "Yes, ma'am!."
...
The three of you walked hand in hand in the paddock, earning a few quite shocked faces and jaws dropping from the sudden pressence of your guys's daughter. 
Charles spotted you guys and excused himself from the interviewer. He then quickly made his way to you guys.
"Ma vie, you made it" He said cheerfully; he smiled from ear to ear and just couldn't keep it on how happy he was that you guys were there. 
"We didn't want to miss it, béatrice Je voulais soutenir son père (wanted to support her daddy)" you said, caressing his broad shoulder.
Charles couldn't contain his excitement and kissed the two of you on the cheek. 
...
Throughout the day, you guys were bombarded with questions to which you politely replied. 
All the cameras were pointed directly at your daughter; there were people who were supportive, and there were just some who weren't, and it was alright with you guys. The only thing that mattered was that your baby was the life of the paddock; everyone turned their heads whenever she passed by, earning a few aws and coos from around the pit.
"I am glad we did this," you said, intertwining Alex's hands with yours. 
"Me too," she answered, resting her head on your shoulders.
...
Charles_Leclerc just posted!
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Liked by y/nursername, AlexandraSaintMleux and 2,539,236 others.
Mon monde💗💋
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Short fluff, idk hope this is good also😭😭, thanks for the love that you guys showed on my last post!! Really boosted my confidence in writing!!💋💋
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lvndosnorris · 2 days
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kissing oscar’s little freckles on his body and face while u lay awake at midnight with him. his big biceps wrapped around your waist mmfhdug
there was no reason for either of you to be awake, the clock reading four minutes past twelve as you giggled sleepily. you'd been in this state for the past few hours — cheek pressed to his bare chest as he traced over your back, the pads of his fingers gentle as they curved over your spine and across your shoulder blades.
pushing up on your forearms you watched as he accustomed to your face, the darkness of the room becoming so sleep-inviting that you knew you'd both be unconscious in no time. you'd reiterated several times already that night how pretty you thought he was, oscar's face burning up and fighting to hide in the crook of his arm every single time — yet it didn't deter you, instead only encouraging the attention.
your voice was soft, merely a whisper as you leant down until your nose brushed his, "it's been ages since i've had you like this — completely to myself..."
and it was true — the both of you having busy schedules meant moments like this, nights like this, happened rarely. you ghosted your mouth over his cheeks, peppering small kisses as you moved your head to his jaw. a hum of content vibrated past oscar's lips as he made some incoherent, passing comment about how he'll make an effort to make it happen more often. it was like he melted under your touch, eyelids heavy as the corner of his mouth tugged his lips into a lazy, lopsided smile.
he squeezed you, an attempt to bring you as close to him as possible. fuck, he would have you living between his bones if he had the chance.
your kisses connected the little constellations of freckles that decorated his skin, breath hot as it fanned over him. neither of you needed to talk further, all gossip and conversations already exhausted as you focused on tipping him over the edge into slumber.
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Text
No more of this (Lando Norris)
Lando is trying to stop the hurt of loosing you by getting ahead of it and (trying to) leave you first
Note: english is not my first language. It's angsty but has a good ending! ✨️ I took a bit of a gamble with this one, and I'm hoping it is still a good enough piece to read! This was from a request for which I had another idea whilst I was writing this one, so I might work on it if this truly is a bad take on it!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: relationship troubles, miscommunication, anxiety symptoms, alludes to the passing of a family member and consequent inheritances
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
Lando wasn't sure how long he had been in the room on his own, but he knew he didn't have it in him to leave soon.
He thought he wasn't enough, he was too much trouble for anyone around him, that's why no one is there for him right now.
He grabbed his phone and swiped the screen to check if the texts he sent you had gone through, but the lack of an answer from your part was simply that.
Not even Y/N cares about him or what he needs. Maybe he didn't word it in the right away? Surely, Y/N would have replied by now if he had written it down properly and not appeared like a clingy, needy child. Maybe he could send another one, just to make sure it is all alright.
To lovie ✨️
I'm sorry if that was a lot, but I just wanted to know how your day had been! I love you, sweet girl 🧡
There, all better.
The McLaren driver waited for your answer, hoping to make ammends from his previous tries.
Maybe she's busy, she has so much on her plate as well. She can't take care of Lando too. Lando wonders what his girlfriend would do if she knew you felt like this. If she found him lying in a bed, unable to move and startled by the idea of facing the outside? She would leave him right then and there. Y/N can only take so much and she's not going to take this.
The tears that fell went unoticed until they pooled on the pillow cover fabric, wetting it and dampening Lando's cheek and jaw.
The weight on his chest lightened when his phone vibrated.
From lovie ✨️
I'm so sorry, Lan - my phone was on silent because of the meeting with the notary and I forgot to turn it back up 🤦‍♀️
It has been a busy couple of days with the signings and handovers, but I can already see the end of it!
And how was your day, bubs?
I miss you loads and can't wait to kiss your handsome face 🧡 I love you 💖
There it goes, that wasn't so bad, right? She replied - she's safe, she has a reason why and she wrote I love you. Maybe all of that fuss was for nothing.
Lando quickly typed back a reply, hitting the button to send after reading it a couple of times to ensure it was good.
To lovie ✨️
It's okay, sweet girl, you don't have to worry! It's been same old, had a training session with Jon and then worked on the sim.
Can't wait for you to be home soon, I love you so much ❤️
You replied, that was all he needed. Everything is back to normal, the heartbeat has slowed down, the weight on the chest had been lifted, and breathing wasn't so hard anymore.
For now, anyway.
The last two days had been fine, good even - Lando spent the afternoon playing padel with Max Verstappen, streaming with Quadrant and even played golf on his own, relief washing over him when, despite being on his own, his thoughts didn't take him to the dark side like he expected them to.
You had FaceTimed every night and exchanged texts in the morning so there hadn't been any reason to worry - until now anyway.
When Max and Pietra told you they were flying to Monaco to spend the week there, you decided to postpone leaving for two days and take the flight with them instead.
You'd have to have reached the realisation that Lando is not the best you can do. You couldn't possibly be that blind.
Y/N knows you're he's not good enough, she knows she deserves so much more and now that she has property back home and a safe ground, she'll leave him before he knows it.
It builds up again, his breathing short and laboured while his heart speeds up, his hands unconsciously retreating into themselves and making fists as his nails graze his palm.
You are going to leave him.
Not if Lando leaves you first.
"This isn't even the worst flight we've had", Max reasoned once you landed in Nice, "you're really feeling it, aren't you?", he nudged your shoulder.
"It's just been a busy couple of weeks", you sighed, looking for your luggage on the carrousel, "I'm so glad it's all dealt with now and I can finally be home again", you smil3d tiredly.
"You mean you can finally be with Lando again", Pietra teased you.
"Can you blame me, though? I miss him so much I'm not sure I can keep away from him for long once I hug him", you admitted, spotting the bright blue luggage on the conveyor belt.
"Lando just texted me saying he is by the informative screens", Max offered, grabbing his and Pietra's luggage and leaving the way out of the busy airport.
Once you spotted your boyfriend, you hastened your pace to approach him, leaving the luggage on the side so you could jump into his embrace.
"Hey, my love, I missed you so much", Lando held you impossibly tight to him, nipping on the skin of your neck and inhaling your scent.
Y/N is back, she's here.
"Me too, baby", you said, kissing his neck multiple times, "I'm so glad to be home", you mumbled, pulling a smile out of him before you kissed his lips.
"One could argue we are here too, but we're clearly not that important", Max joked, patting Lando's back where he could given that you were clinging to him like a koala.
"The car is in the -2 Parking zone", Lando offered, grabbing your luggage and walking behind his bestfriend and his girlfriend while keeping you close to him.
For now, this would have to suffice before things changed forever.
The whole drive back to Lando's apartment involved light chatter and catching up on the past few weeks.
"I think we should go out, enjoy some of the night life while you still can", Max slapped Lando's shoulder once you had settled in and unpacked.
"I can get us entrances", the Formula One driver agreed, grabbing his phone before he went through his contacts.
Once the entrances and the dinner reservations were secured, the four of you took turns in showering and getting ready, Lando never letting you leave his sight for long.
"You look beautiful, lovie", Lando complimented, watching your shake out the curls you had done on your hair.
"Thank you, bubs - you look really handsome too, I love it when you wear all black", you mused, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles gently.
It was all good. You didn't seem mad or upset with him, in the contrary actually - like he felt, you too were a bit needy for his touch and to have him close to you, offering him reassuring words and sweet nothings every time you could. Maybe his thoughts were a lie. Some of them have been, maybe those were too.
The dinner was lovely and you were able to walk to the club you'd be spending the night in, getting drinks first before finding the area you were staying in. Lando was quickly pulled by the DJ on the booth, recognising him from previous nights out, while you, Max and Pietra stayed where you were.
He was enjoying himself before he noticed you were chatting with someone else, remembering him from your friend's birthday.
He has a girlfriend who is Y/N's friend, Lando has nothing to worry about.
Until he does.
He doesn't miss the way you hug him or the way you engage in light chat with him, all smiles and cheers.
You deserve someone who is always there for you, who can be present and make you smile like that all the time, and he knows he's not the person for the job.
"I'm going back down to my group - thanks for the invite", Lando shook his hand before pulling the DJ for a quick hug, making his way to you and your friends.
"Hey, love, you're back!", you smiled with a big wave to beckon him over, lacing your hand in his as soon as you were close enough, "you remember Marvin, right?".
"Yes, hi, how are you?", he mused, shaking his hand before protectively placing his arm around your waist.
Marvin had to leave to go be with his friend group as since then, you noticed Lando seemed weird. He was usually the life of the party and he always enjoyed himself in these environments, so to see him just stand there and sway his head to the music was a foreign sight.
"Dance with me, baby", you put your back to his chest, letting his hand hold you by your waist still while you swayed your bodies.
"I love you, Y/N, never forget that", he mumbled spontaneously after a while, kissing your cheek multiple times before hiding your face in your neck.
"I love you too, Lan, so much", you replied back as that was the last clue that something was going on.
A couple hours later, and after you had been sat at the booth for quite a bit, you told Lando that you felt a little tired, Max and Pietra agreeing with you that all the travelling had caught up with you, so you made your way out and back to his apartment.
"Have a goodnight, guys", you waved as Max helped his girlfriend into the room, the blonde woman having already fallen asleep on the way.
"Are you feeling better, Y/N?", Lando wondered as he watched you put your heels back in their spot once you stepped inside your bedroom and closed the door behind you.
You debated telling him the truth, but your relationship has been built in honesty and trust about everything, so the course to take was obvious, "Actually", you began, "I am totally fine, but I noticed you weren't great, you didn't seem that happy and I thought we could talk about it , if you'd like", you suggested, "or we could sleep, I'm fine with either, but I hope you choose the one that makes you feel better", you smiled.
The smile quickly vanished when Lando got up from the bed, his body language tight and tense, "now you care about me? Now you want to know if I'm okay or if I'm doing what makes me happy? All after I felt like shit and had to deal with things on my own?", Lando mused, taking you aback with such words.
"Lando, baby, what do you mean with that?", you asked.
"You were here and I was there, and then I have been here while you've been back home and you haven't been there for me", Lando spat, "I just wanted you by my side, I needed you and you weren’t there for me", he concluded. The anger previously in his tone was replaced by sadness and a hint of shame even.
"Lando, it's not like I have been on vacation purposefully away from you - there have been matters that my family needed me to take care of as there wasn't anyone else to take that responsibility! I don't understand where this is coming from - if I wasn't with you it's because I really couldn't be there!", you argued.
"It's... I can't do this right now", Lando looked up as tears started brimming his eyes.
"It seems not", you defended yourself, feeling the hints of accusation and the lack of flexibility and empathy from your boyfriend, "excuse me", you offered, grabbing your pyjamas and leaving your shared bedroom.
The accusations you threw to one another were heard by your guests as Max looked for you while you adjusted the living room sofa so that it could turn into a single bed, not needing the full sized mattress since you'd be clearly sleeping alone.
"What are you doing here?", Max wondered.
"You don't need to pretend you didn't hear that", you shrugged your shoulders before wiping your cheeks with your thumb, pulling on the sheet so the corner wouldn't fly off during the night.
"I can't take the guest room when you are sleeping here, Y/N", Max offered, pulling your hand so you would get up.
"I'm fine, it's not like I'm counting on getting that much sleep", you mumbled, sitting down against the cushions.
"You two are going to sort it out", Max gulped, "you always do, Y/N", sitting down next to you.
"Do you think we will?", you muttered, the weight of the words leaving your mouth settling in the possibility, "did he tell you anything? I'm at a loss at where all of this has come from", you offered your perspective.
"You're Lando and Y/N - there is no way in this world that you don't make it work. You are meant to be, no matter whatever turn you took in your life or whatever decisions you could've taken differently, you and Lando were supposed to meet in every single one of them", Max comforted as he rubbed your back, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.
"Things are so messed up between us", you tutted at your boyfriend's earlier words and the disbelief that this was happening.
"Lando has been under a lot of pressure lately", Max offered, "I know his words hurt you and I'm certainly not justifying them, but he's... He just wants to be his best self for you, and between his family issues and this season's prospects, not having you with him there has shaken the foundation he thought was his steady self".
"I didn't notice it - yay for the bad girlfriend points!", you jokingly cheered before groaning, "I need out of this day".
"That's why you should go to the spare bedroom to sleep it off, Y/N", Max sternly said, "and you're not a bad girlfriend for this, not at all".
"I'm staying here, I told you", you stated, "you go and take that spare room, P is probably asleep on the bed already", you giggled, "I'll be fine".
"Tomorrow is a new day and a new opportunity for a fresh outlook of this whole situation", Max tapped his thighs before getting up, "Good night, Y/N".
"Good night, Max", you waved as he turned off the ceiling lights and closed the French doors that separated the living room from the dining room and the rest of the apartment.
Lando tossed and turned around for what felt like the hundredth time since he laid down on the mattress.
His words didn't come out the way he wanted them to.
But maybe it was for the best.
He didn't want to hurt you, and that is both a burden and a guilt that he will carry for the rest of his life.
She'll never forgive him. Not now that he's really shown how messed up and broken he is. How the playful, giggly boyfriend she was with is now a shell of a poor excuse of a man. He had been spending the nights alone since you were gone, but now that he knew you were - hopefully - still somewhere in the apartment and not next to him, the weight on his chest couldn't be heavier. It gets harder to breathe, and the thoughts don't stop.
He's lost the best person in his life because these insecurities got the best of him. Once again, he's letting them win and take charge of his life.
Lando sits up and holds the pillow you usually sleep with, trying to catch a small whiff of your scent that still lingers there and usually calms him down.
He's done something really bad. Maybe this was him. This was who he was nowadays and he was truly doing you the favour of letting you out before it got too bad.
When Lando wakes up after sleeping for what feels like a long nap, only Max is up as he steps into the kitchen.
"Morning", Lando muttered, not sure where to pick up from what he knows his bestfriend heard only a couple of hours ago.
"Morning, mate! P is feeling the hangover, so she'll be out for a while! Let's go on a run, it will do us both good", he put his hands on Lando's shoulders and patting them.
Lando groans and looks longingly at the living room, noticing the closed doors, wondering if you were still asleep.
Such an ass he is, letting his girlfriend sleep on the sofa.
Lando and Max run the usual distance, stopping to stretch at the little park area near his apartment, and because it's still early, there is no one else around but them and an older man walking his dog.
"Will you tell me what's going on with you and Y/N? Because by the looks of it, you really should talk to someone about it", Max stated. There wasn't a chance that Lando could run away from this, figuratively or literally, so he explained to his bestfriend what had been going on his mind.
"Do you think I am someone worthy of her? Y/N deserves so much better than me, so it's best if she leaves me first", Lando concluded.
"If she leaves you first, what?! Do you think it won't hurt you? Or her? Is that what this is all about?", Max argued, "you're seriously telling me that the only way you see a solution for this is to break up with her because you're so sure she wants to break up with you?! This is ridiculous, Lando!!".
"Of course it will hurt, Max! I love that girl with everything I have and I can't bear the thought of disappointing her, of her having less than she deserves, and I also can't even think about her leaving me! The anticipation that any moment she could say those words has been killing me!", he admitted outloud for the first time.
"Lando, that girl loves you with every bone of her body, do you really think she is going to break up with you?", Max sighed, "your mind is lying to you and it pains me to see the way it's doing it to you and the people around you".
"I'm not where I should be, these thoughts are consuming me left and right and I can't tell apart what is real and what my mind is catastrophising ", Lando agreed.
"Lando, people can't help you if you don't tell them you're feeling like that", Max stated, both sternly and empathetically, "and there are so many people that care about you".
They sit in silence in the bench as Lando ponders his words and Max replays them on his head.
"Is that what is going on in your head, though? That Y/N is going to leave you, and so you're getting ahead of it by breaking up with her?", Max mused.
"When you say it like that, it sounds so stupid and the opposite of what I want to do", Lando scoffed at himself, "but everything is aligned to it - she can do so much better for herself, and it's stupid I know, but my mind goes on and on about this and it almost never quietens down", he gulped.
"Y/N doesn't want to leave you, Lando, that's another lie you're telling yourself", Max offered, "she loves you and you deserve eachother because you're it, you're the endgame and you can work through this, but she needs to know".
"I know - sometimes I do anyway, I think", Lando chuckled lightly at his own joke, "we need to go home, I need to speak with Y/N".
"Indeed you do", Max agreed, getting up and following him to the apartment.
Pietra was already up and in the kitchen when the boys arrived, pecking her boyfriend's lips and looking at Lando, "Y/N's up, we have had breakfast and she went back to the living room while I was in the shower", she informed as Lando nodded.
"Can I come in?", Lando asked after knocking on the door.
"Yes, it's your apartment after all", you mused as he stepped inside
"No, Y/N", Lando groaned, "this is our place, my love, and there's something I need to tell you, many things in fact", he added.
"You should start then", you patted the spot next to the mattress where you had spent the night.
"I love you, Y/N, so much, that was never a question, and it was because I love you so much that every now and again, I have these thoughts that I'm not good enough for you, that I can't give you what you deserve and that you'd be better off with someone else, or without me", he took a big breath in, "I just wanted to be my best self for you, and it all comes crashing and building up and up and I can't shut the noise down".
"Lando, you could've told me, I would've helped, try to do my best in helping you so you weren't carrying this on your own", you offered, your hand crawling to his so you could hold it in yours.
"I hated that I needed you that much because you also have your own life and you don't want to be next to me every waking second. In my head, you shouldn't have to deal with me being needy of feeling like this", he admitted.
"And I'll be, I don't care what you need or say, Lando, I'm going to be here for you, I don't have to go back for a while now, so I'll be where you need me", you offered, "and, Lando, you could never be too much for me, you could never make me feel like I can do better because every day I thank my lucky stars that we're together and that you feel the same love I feel for you", you cupped his face, "you deserve so much, Lando Norris, and I'll work everyday to prove you that you're worthy of love and care and that things going on here are sometimes a lie", you kissed his forehead.
"I don't deserve having you, I yelled at you for no reason", Lando mumbled.
"There was a reason, and it would take me a lot more than you yelling at me when you're stressed and worried, but I'd also like to know whatever is happening when it is happening so I can help, or we can seek out professional help too", you rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs.
No one had ever fought for him like this. He's used to be the one to prove to people that they belong in his life and that's he's all in, not the other way around since, once every time his partners start to feel like it's too much once the honeymoon phase fades out and regular, day-to-day troubles show up notice it getting serious, they flee.
"We'll do this together, lovie", Lando muttered against your lips as he looked into your eyes, "I'm sorry I doubted you when in reality you are the one who's always stuck with me", he smiled, kissing your lips.
464 notes · View notes
claypgeon · 11 hours
Text
enemies or lovers? | max verstappen
pairing: max verstappen x ferrari!reader
summary: that awkward moment when the ‘sworn enemies’ of f1 get caught making out.
notes: reminder that my request are open !!
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f1gossip: romance is in the air! y/n l/n driver for ferrari was seen last night with a mystery man, thoughts?
view comments below!
user1: mystery man ?? baby that’s MAX VERSTAPPEN
user2: is that literally NOT max ???
user3: bitch that’s max
user4: OMG THATS MAX
user5: y’all thinking that’s max are the level of delusional i aspire to be
user6: is that not max ???
user7: no way y/n and max got caught making out 😭😭
user8: don’t max and y/n literally hate each other ??? why would that be him ?
user9: y/n going out with max is so disappointing, didn’t he call her a bitch ??
user10: yeah, the same way SHE called HIM a “dick-less man who deserves to rot in hell”
user9: … yeah they belong together
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— qualifying day!
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allaboutf1: seems like max and y/n got into it on lap number 6! the dutch tried to over take y/n, but instead they both had to avoid crashing into each other. in the end y/n make it to p5 while max was right behind her in p6.
view comments below !
user10: well well well
user11: hmm
user12: seems like they’re trying to make people think they still hate each other
user13: remainder that these two were caught MAKING OUT just last night
user14: we still don’t know if that was max 💀
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maxverstappen1: 💙
view comments below!
user15: “💙” he puts as if they weren’t sucking each others face off last night
user16: I FUCKING TOLD YOU ALL
user17: WOAH
user18: NO WAY
user19: three years of being “enemies” and now this ???
user20: who would’ve thought 😭
user21: the true enemies to lovers
user22: how long do you guys think they’ve been dating ????
user23: it HAS to be less than a year, remember japan last year ??
user22: oh yeah 😭😭 they literally publicly wished death on each other
landonorris: AHA I KNEW IT
user24: yeah we all knew…
user25: we ALL saw the pictures babe
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yourusername: so what if we hate each other?? he’s still hot
view comments below!
user26: she gets it
user27: DONT LET THEM SILENCE YOU
user29: babe you could do so much better…
user30: THE TRUE ENEMIES TO LOVERS 🙏
landonorris: whatever happened to “he’s fucking hideous i would never go out with him”
yourusername: i was young and DUMB
landonorris: that was 2 months ago
yourusername: people change lando, people change
user31: okay now i need a timeline of this WHOLE relationship
user32: now kiss
user33: so that whole “is he fucking blind” thing wasn’t real ?? 😣
user34: i can’t be the only one who’s going to miss max and y/ns radio arguments
484 notes · View notes
avawritesthings · 2 days
Text
boyfriend texts
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
warnings: mentions of suggestive content
ava’s notes: this is my first smau/text fic!!! it was super fun to make these, lmk if u want more or have any ideas! 🤍
f1 masterlist & nhl masterlist
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514 notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 14 hours
Text
Used to be Mine
Oscar Piastri x Reader
Arthur Leclerc x ex!Reader
Summary: Oscar stole everything from Arthur … his hopes, his dreams, his family name, and you
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Arthur slumps in the hard chair across from Jock Clear’s desk, the Ferrari Driver Academy director’s words echoing in his mind. “I’m very sorry Arthur, but we’ve decided not to renew your contract for next season. You’ll be released from the program at the end of this year.”
Arthur feels like he’s been punched in the gut. This can’t be happening. He’s poured his heart and soul into racing for Ferrari’s junior program for years. His dream has always been to follow in his older brother Charles’ footsteps and race for the Scuderia in Formula 1.
“But … why?” Arthur manages to choke out. “I know my results this season haven’t been that great but fifteenth in the F2 standings-”
Clear shakes his head solemnly. “Your pace and racecraft simply haven’t developed at the rate we need to see to justify keeping you in the program, Arthur. I know how hard you’ve worked, but there are other young talents coming up behind you showing greater potential.”
The word “potential” hits Arthur like a dagger. Ever since he was a kid, that’s what he’s heard over and over — unfavorable comparisons to Charles’ unlimited potential. He always knew his big brother was special behind the wheel, but he’d clung to the hope that he could make it to F1 through sheer hard work and determination if not raw talent.
Clearly that hope was misguided. Arthur feels the sting of failure wash over him.
“I … I understand,” he forces out, struggling not to break down in tears right there. “Thank you for the opportunity.”
He stands up shakily, the room spinning. He needs to get out of here.
The drive back to his family’s home in Monaco is a blur. Arthur’s mind races, years of sacrifice and struggle swirling in his head. Endless days and nights on the simulator. Grueling hours in the gym, pushing his body to its limits. Tormenting himself over endless data traces, looking for even a tenth of a second to gain an edge.
All for nothing. The harsh truth is he’ll never be good enough. No matter how hard he tries, the Leclerc name will always belong to Charles. Arthur will be forever known as his little brother, the one who couldn’t quite cut it.
He slams his fist against the steering wheel, angry tears now streaming down his face. Why did he ever think he could do this? Why didn’t he just pursue something, anything else with his life? He’s wasted years chasing an impossible dream, and now he has nothing to show for it.
His phone rings, almost slipping out of his trembling hands before he can answer. It’s you.
“Y/N ...” Arthur chokes out, trying and failing to hold back his sobs.
“Arthur? Oh my god, what’s wrong?” You ask, panic in your voice even through the tinny speaker. Of course you can sense something is desperately wrong. You’ve always been there for him, the one person who truly understands what he’s been going through.
Arthur can barely get the words out between ragged breaths. “The … the FDA ... they’re releasing me ... it’s over ...”
There’s stunned silence on the other end of the line.
“Arthur, I ...” You trail off, at an uncharacteristic loss for words. You know how much this has meant to him. How much of himself he’s given to this endeavor. “I’m coming over right now, okay? Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
You hang up before Arthur can respond. He’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Part of him wants to wallow in despair alone. But mostly he’s grateful you’re coming. He’s not sure he can handle this by himself right now.
Sure enough, you burst through the front door only a few minutes later. Arthur has collapsed on the couch, head in his hands as the tears continue to flow.
“Oh Arthur ...” You sit down beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into an embrace. He turns and buries his face in your shoulder, no longer trying to hold anything back as ragged sobs wrack his body.
You just hold him, making soft hushing sounds and stroking his hair. You’ve seen him distraught before — after tough losses or crashes. But never quite like this. This is the cry of someone whose dreams have been shattered.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Arthur’s sobs begin to subside into hitching breaths. You grab a tissue box from the end table and hand it to him.
“Thank you,” he mumbles, blowing his nose loudly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just … I don’t know what to do. What am I going to do now?”
You take his hand and give it a squeeze. “First, you’re going to breathe. This isn’t the end of the world, I promise. We’ll get through this.”
Arthur lets out a shaky exhale, trying to calm himself. You always have been the level-headed one. He leans back against the couch cushions, keeping your hand grasped tightly in his.
“I really thought I could make it, you know?” He says quietly. “I’ve given everything to this stupid dream ever since I was a kid. But I’ll never be good enough, will I? Not like Charles.”
You open your mouth to protest, but Arthur barrels on, unable to contain years of self-doubt and insecurity any longer.
“Don’t try to argue. We both know it’s true. Charles was always the special one. The one with the generational talent. I was just … there. Doing my best to keep up, but always a step behind no matter how hard I worked.”
You shake your head vehemently. “Arthur, that’s not true at all. You’re an incredible driver. Your work ethic and determination are-”
“Meaningless without the talent,” Arthur interrupts bitterly. “That’s all that matters in the end. And I don’t have it, not like Charles does. I’m just … normal. Ordinary. That’s why Ferrari has moved on.”
You move closer, taking Arthur’s face in your hands so he has to look you in the eye. “You listen to me, Arthur Leclerc. You are anything but ordinary, understand? You’ve accomplished more by the age of 23 than most people could dream of in their entire lives. Making it all the way to F2 and the Ferrari Driver Academy is incredible, no matter what happens next.”
Arthur tries to turn away, but you keep his gaze locked, your voice rising in intensity. “If you were ordinary, you wouldn’t have been able to push yourself so hard for so long. Ordinary people would have given up a long time ago. It’s your extraordinary drive and passion that have taken you this far.”
Tears are welling up in your eyes now. You can’t stand to see him diminishing himself like this.
“Besides,” you add, managing a small smile. “I may be biased, but I’ve always thought you were the most extraordinarily kind, caring, and hilarious person I know. That’s a kind of specialness in itself, you know.”
Arthur lets out a choked laugh, wiping at his eyes again. Leave it to you to know just what to say to raise his spirits, even a little. “You always have been weirdly good at these pep talks.”
“Well, someone has to keep your head from getting too big,” you quip back with a grin.
Arthur mock-gasps in feigned offense. “Why, you little ...”
He lunges at you, starting to mercilessly tickle your sides. You squeal with laughter, trying in vain to fight back as you quickly devolve into a giggling, flailing mess of limbs.
You’ve been reduced to teary hiccups when Arthur finally relents, allowing you both to catch your breath. He throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
“You’re the best,” he murmurs softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You rest your head against his shoulder contentedly. “Let’s just take things one day at a time for now, okay? We’ll figure out what’s next together, like we always have.”
Arthur nods, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and love for his girlfriend. No matter what curveballs life has thrown your way, you’ve always supported and uplifted each other. He knows that won’t change, even if his racing dreams don’t pan out.
“Together,” he echoes, giving your hand one more tight squeeze. Whatever the future holds, he can get through it with you by his side.
Maybe his path won’t lead to Formula 1 after all. Arthur feels a pang of sadness and disappointment at that realization. But as long as he has his family — has you — to lean on, he knows he’ll be okay. That love and support is what has always truly mattered most, not chasing some impossible dream.
“You know, we should see if Charles wants to come over later,” Arthur says, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I haven’t roasted his abysmal fashion sense in way too long.”
You burst out laughing at that. Only Arthur could find his way back to laughing and joking so soon after having his world turned upside down. It’s just one of the many things you admire about him.
“Oh my god, yes please,” you reply once you’ve caught your breath. “His outfit at the last race was literally a crime against humanity. Someone needs to intervene before he traumatizes us all again.”
The two of you spend the next little while cheerfully trading escalating insults about his big brother’s admittedly questionable clothing choices. The mood has lightened considerably, at least for now.
Arthur knows the sting of his failure will return, the questions about what he should do next weighing heavily. But you’ll be there for those hard moments too, just like always. As long as he has you — his best friend, his other half — he can face any challenge life throws his way.
The uncertain road ahead is daunting. But Arthur meets it with determination burning in his eyes. If he couldn’t make it as a Formula 1 driver, he’ll simply have to find a new dream to chase. A new mountain to climb. Whatever it is, he knows you’ll be alongside him every step of the way.
***
Six Months Later
The roar of the engines fades as the cars return to the pits after qualifying. Arthur can’t tear his eyes away from the timing screens:
1. C. LECLERC
2. O. PIASTRI
A Leclerc front row lockout at their home race. Except one of them isn’t really a Leclerc at all.
“Nice one, Piastri-Leclerc!” One of the McLaren mechanics calls out as Oscar climbs from his car.
Arthur’s gut twists.
Oscar just grins and plays along. “Thanks, it’s all in the family name!”
A few of the Ferrari mechanics chuckle at that as Charles emerges from his own car, beaming. He pulls Oscar into a hug. “A Leclerc one-two in Monaco, who would have thought?”
“There’s just something about being a local,” Oscar laughs. “Thank you for giving me yet another home race.”
You appear then, throwing your arms around Oscar with a squeal. “My two favorite Leclercssss!”
Arthur has to look away, his face burning. He knows he has no right to be jealous. Oscar is one of his best friends. And you … you made your choice a long time ago.
“Arthur?” Fred Vasseur appears at his side. “You okay?”
Arthur forces a smile. “Yeah, all good. Just … focused.”
“No need to be so tense,” Fred squeezes his shoulder. “You did a great job in the sim this week. That data helped Charles and Carlos a ton.”
“Glad I could help,” Arthur says automatically.
But his gaze is drawn back to where you’re still hugging Oscar tightly. You look so happy, so carefree. It wasn’t that long ago that your smiles were for him.
“You know,” Fred says conversationally. “I’m getting a lot of questions about what you’ll decide to do next. Every time you’re in that sim or out on track-”
“I’m fine being test driver,” Arthur interrupts, maybe a little too brusque. “Really, I am.”
Fred studies him for a beat. “If you’re sure. Just saying, the doors are opening ...”
The team principal moves off then, leaving Arthur alone with his swirling emotions. He can’t get swept up in maybes about his future. Not when his past is standing right there, laughing at some joke Oscar made.
You’d think after all this time, the sight of you wouldn’t affect him so much. You broke his heart so thoroughly when you ended things, he didn’t think there were any pieces left to shatter. But here he is, a mess of jealousy and longing, just because you gave Oscar a hug.
“Arthur! There you are!”
He turns at the sound of your voice. You’re hurrying towards him, Oscar and Charles trailing behind with indulgent smiles.
“We’re going to get some dinner if you want to join?” You ask brightly.
He has to swallow hard before he can speak past the lump in his throat. “I … don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Of course it is!” You grab his arm, utterly oblivious to his discomfort. “We’re all friends here, right?”
“Some of you were a bit more than friends once upon a time,” Charles points out with a wicked grin.
You shove him playfully. “Oh shut up!”
Arthur feels like he’s being stabbed in the heart. Your break up turned his life upside down. Hearing you joke about it so casually now is excruciating.
“Seriously, Arthur,” Oscar cuts in. “Come celebrate with us. We promise not to get too crazy.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Arthur tries again, harsher this time.
You frown, tilting your head in confusion. “Why not? I thought we were all past the whole ex thing?”
“I am,” he lies through gritted teeth. “I just … have some stuff to work on for the race tomorrow.”
“Oh come on,” you wheedle, giving him that smile that used to make him melt. “Take a break! Live a little!”
Arthur can’t take much more of this. He needs to get out of here before he says something he’ll regret. Or worse, does something stupid like pull you into his arms and kiss you senseless.
“Seriously you guys, I’ve got work,” he says, forcing himself to take a step back from you. “I’ll … catch up with you later, okay?”
He doesn’t wait for a response, just turns on his heel and stalks away. He can’t bear to see the hurt, confused look on your face.
Why did he think this would be okay? That he could spend day after day around you and it wouldn’t still hurt? Every smile, every laugh, every touch you bestow on Charles and Oscar is like a white hot poker in his chest.
He thought he was over you. He really did. It’s been months since you ended things, months since you shattered what was left of his heart into a million pieces.
He’d been so shocked, so heartbroken, that all he could do was sit there numbly as you walked out of his apartment. When he finally found his voice, hours had passed, and you were long gone.
“But I love you,” he’d whispered into the empty room.
He’d been so sure you felt the same. That what you had was forever. But you made your choice, as simple as that. Arthur never came first.
And now, half a year later, here he is. Living out some twisted version of his dream … but only just. A test driver for Ferrari instead of a race driver like he always imagined. Like Charles, who had achieved everything they both wanted.
Arthur leans back against the wall of the cool, dark room he’s found himself in. It feels like the pain of your rejection is never going to stop haunting him. Like no matter how much time passes, it will never be enough to make up for losing you.
He squeezes his eyes shut, trying and failing to block out the memory of your face, your smile, your laugh. All the moments of pure joy you two had shared. The dreams you’d whispered to each other late at night, tangled in the sheets.
Is this his lot in life from now on? To watch you move on, all smiles and teasing jokes with Oscar and Charles? To see everyone welcoming Oscar into the family while Arthur is shut out in the cold?
He’s startled from his spiraling thoughts by a knock at the door. “Arthur? You in there?”
It’s Charles. Arthur flinches, swiping a hand over his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he calls back, grateful that his voice doesn’t shake.
There’s a pause. “Can I come in?”
Arthur considers sending his brother away. He’s in no state for a heart-to-heart right now.
But he can’t bring himself to refuse Charles. Not when they’ve been through so much together, from the karting tracks of their childhood to the highest levels of motorsport.
“Yeah, okay.”
The door opens and Charles slips inside. He stops short when he sees Arthur, brow furrowing in concern.
“Hey … you okay?”
Arthur can’t even find it in himself to fake it. He just shakes his head mutely.
“Is this about Y/N?” Charles asks gently.
And just like that, the dam breaks. Arthur squeezes his eyes shut again, but he can’t stop the tears from spilling over.
“I thought I was over her. I really did,” he chokes out. “But seeing her with Oscar … celebrating like that ...”
Strong arms wrap around him then, pulling him into a hug. Arthur goes boneless, sagging against his older brother as the sobs take over.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” Charles murmurs. “Let it out.”
Arthur does. He cries and cries, shoulders shaking, as months of pent-up heartache pour out of him. Charles just holds him through it, rubbing soothing circles across his back.
“I’m s-sorry,” Arthur finally gasps out. “I’m being so stupid ...”
“You’re not stupid,” Charles says firmly. “Love isn’t stupid, Arthur. Especially your first real heartbreak. That shit hurts like hell.”
Arthur lets out a watery chuckle, finally pulling back and swiping at his eyes. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”
“Well, I am the wise older brother,” Charles grins. Then he sobers, studying Arthur carefully. “Seriously though … you know Y/N loved you, right? What you two had was real.”
“I know.” Arthur shakes his head. “Doesn’t make it any easier seeing her move on so quickly.”
“She’s not over you either,” Charles says gently. “That’s why she keeps trying so hard to act like everything is normal between you two.”
Arthur scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me with all the cuddling up to Oscar out there.”
“Oh come on, you know that’s just a joke,” Charles says with a roll of his eyes. “Oscar is like family to us, same as you. That’s all it is.”
“Yeah? Well it didn’t look that way to me.”
“Arthur ...” Charles puts a hand on his shoulder. “I think you need to have an actual conversation with Y/N. Clear the air once and for all. This lingering stuff is only going to keep eating you up inside.”
“What if she really has moved on?” The thought is like a vise around Arthur’s heart. “What if she tells me she’s dating Oscar for real or something?”
“Then at least you’ll know,” Charles says simply. “It will hurt, yeah. But not knowing, constantly wondering … that’s so much worse. Trust me.”
Arthur is quiet for a long moment, turning Charles’ words over in his mind. Maybe his brother is right. Maybe it’s time to rip off the bandaid once and for all.
He nods slowly. “Okay. I’ll ... I’ll talk to her.”
“Good.” Charles pulls him in for another hug. “No matter what happens, you’ve got me, okay? We Leclercs need to stick together.”
Arthur manages a small smile at that, feeling just a bit lighter. “Yeah. We do.”
As he follows Charles out of the room, he catches sight of you across the paddock, laughing at something Oscar said. A familiar ache blooms in his chest.
But this time, he doesn’t run from it. This time, he’s going to face it head on. His heart may end up in even more pieces … or maybe, just maybe, it will finally start to mend.
Either way, at least he’ll know. No more lingering what ifs. Just the truth, whatever it may be.
He takes a deep, steadying breath, then starts making his way towards you.
***
Arthur’s steps falter as he rounds the corner of the McLaren garage. There you are with Oscar, bodies intertwined, lips locked in a heated kiss.
It feels like all the air has been sucked from Arthur’s lungs. He can’t breathe, can’t think. He just … freezes, rooted to the spot, watching in numb horror as the two of you make out shamelessly right there in the open.
This can’t be happening. It has to be some kind of twisted nightmare. But no matter how hard he blinks, the scene before him doesn’t change.
You and Oscar are really kissing. Properly sucking face like loved-up teenagers, hands roaming over each other greedily. Oscar has you backed up against the garage wall, bodies pressed flush together from chest to thigh.
Arthur feels like he’s going to be sick.
Finally, mercifully, you two break apart, foreheads pressed together as you both gasp for air. Arthur should look away, he knows he should, but he can’t seem to make himself move.
“So much for keeping it professional in the paddock, huh?” You murmur, voice husky.
Oscar lets out a breathless chuckle. “Who cares about professional? Not when I’ve got you all to myself for once.”
He leans in to kiss you again, but you put a hand on his chest, stopping him. “We should find somewhere more private if we’re gonna keep this up.”
“My driver’s room?” Oscar suggests, already palming at the small of your back.
You shiver, pushing up onto your tiptoes to brush your lips against his jaw. “Lead the way, Piastri-Leclerc.”
And just like that, you’re gone, disappearing into the depths of the McLaren garage, hands roaming and giggling like lovesick fools. Arthur watches until the door swings shut behind you, cutting off that haunting sound of your laughter.
Then he’s moving without conscious thought, staggering back around the corner and out of sight. His back hits the cool concrete wall with a thud, but he barely notices. Barely notices anything except the ragged, gasping breaths being torn from his lungs.
He doubles over, hands braced on his knees as he struggles not to vomit right there in the paddock. It feels like someone has driven a white hot poker straight through his chest. Like his heart is being crushed into a million pieces all over again.
Oscar and you … together? Actually dating? How … how could you do this to him? To yourself? Everything you two had built together, every future dream you had shared … tossed aside so easily?
Tears burn at the corners of Arthur’s eyes. He wants to scream, to punch a wall, to unleash the searing agony and fury ripping through him. But he can’t make a sound, throat locked up tight with unshed emotion.
He should have known, really. Should have seen this coming. It’s not like you and Oscar were hiding your connection. The loving looks, the inside jokes, that easy intimacy and affection … Arthur had just been too blinded by jealousy and heartbreak to see it.
But to find out like this? To literally walk in on you two wrapped around each other? It’s a whole new level of pain, lancing through him over and over. He’s always imagined that you would have the decency to at least tell him first if you moved on with someone new.
Unless this has been going on for a while already, hidden from him in plain sight. Every laugh, every hug, every teasing comment … was that all a lie to cover up your dirty secret with Oscar?
Arthur’s stomach churns violently again at the thought. He swallows hard, fighting back the nausea. He can’t lose it here, can’t draw any attention to himself. He needs to get it together, block out the image of you and Oscar swapping spit.
Easier said than done when his brain keeps unhelpfully replaying the way Oscar’s hands were roaming over you, groping at you like you belonged to him. And that laugh … god, that beautiful, carefree laughter that Arthur would know anywhere. A sound that used to make his heart soar whenever it was aimed at him.
Now it’s like a knife in his gut to hear you giggling that way with Oscar, no doubt blissed out after a hot and heavy make out session. Arthur’s jaw tightens, a muscle ticking furiously. He would give anything not to have walked in on that, not to have that sound burnt into his brain forever.
At least now he knows the truth. The humiliating, gut-wrenching truth that you’ve well and truly moved on from him. And with Oscar of all people, like the ultimate slap in the face.
What kind of cruel joke is this? Arthur wonders, still fighting to steady his ragged breaths. He loses the girl he wanted to spend forever with … only to have one of his mates swoop in and take her from him?
It’s not just you that Oscar has stolen either, Arthur realizes with a sickening jolt. It’s everything. With you on his arm, Oscar is welcomed into the family, called a Leclerc at their home race. Arthur’s own last name, treated like some kind of lighthearted joke while the real thing is ripped away from him.
Oscar even gets Monaco as a home race, just like the actual Leclercs who grew up here. All because of some dumb joke about Charles adopting him. Arthur had laughed along with it at the time, never imagining the underhanded truth.
Oscar Piastri has wormed his way into having everything Arthur wanted more than anything. The career, the family, the girl … all of it, just handed to him on a silver platter.
White hot fury flares in Arthur’s chest, momentarily burning through the heartbreak. How dare Oscar do this to him? How dare he make a mockery out of Arthur’s dreams, out of everything the name Leclerc stands for?
Arthur barely registers that he’s moving until his fist connects with the concrete wall with a sickening crunch. He lashes out again and again, pummeling the unforgiving surface over and over until-
“Arthur! Hey, whoa!”
Suddenly there are hands on him, strong and insistent. Arthur starts, accidentally slamming his abused knuckles into a firm chest as Charles appears, grabbing hold of his shoulders.
“Easy, easy! What the hell are you doing?” Charles meets his gaze, eyes wide with concern.
Arthur blinks dazedly, pain finally registering from his torn up, bleeding knuckles. “I … I didn’t ...”
“What happened?” Charles presses, lowering his voice when Arthur winces. “Did you get into it with someone? Talk to me, please.”
Arthur opens his mouth, fully intending to tell Charles everything. About walking in on your incriminating embrace with Oscar. About the way it felt like his entire world shattered all over again. How Oscar has stolen every single thing that should have been Arthur’s by birthright.
But when he tries to vocalize the words, to unleash the storm of emotions battering him from the inside out … nothing comes out. His throat remains locked up tight, breath wheezing harshly.
Charles is watching him, eyebrows knitted with worry. “You’re really freaking me out here. What’s going on?”
Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head helplessly. He feels like he’s drowning, lost in a whirlpool of jealousy and despair that’s slowly suffocating him.
When he opens his eyes again, Charles is still waiting, patient and steady as always. Something in his brother’s calm, anchoring presence helps Arthur regain just a little bit of control. Enough to grit out a few words.
“Oscar. And Y/N.”
That’s all he can manage. But judging by the dawning comprehension on Charles’ face, it’s enough. The older Leclerc lets out a slow breath, gaze turning sympathetic.
“You saw them together,” he says, not a question.
Arthur nods jerkily, jaw locked.
For a long moment, Charles is silent. Taking it all in, no doubt. Then … “I’m so sorry, Arthur.”
Arthur’s breath hitches harshly before he can stop it.
“Hey, hey.” Charles pulls him into a tight hug, tucking Arthur’s head under his chin. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you, little brother.”
Arthur stiffens for just a second before melting into the embrace, squeezing his eyes shut once more. He takes a shuddery breath against Charles’ shirt, then another, just trying to hold himself together.
“I’m here,” Charles murmurs, rubbing his back soothingly. “We’ll get through this together, yeah?”
Arthur doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nods against Charles’ shoulder. He clings to his brother like a lifeline, grateful beyond words that Charles is here to anchor him when it feels like his world is crumbling all over again.
He has no idea how long they stay like that, locked in that tight embrace. Long enough for the sharp edges of Arthur’s anguish to dull, at least a little. Long enough for his ragged breaths to even out into something closer to normal.
Finally, Charles gives him one last squeeze before gently pulling back, keeping a firm grip on Arthur’s shoulders.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, eyeing Arthur’s bloodied knuckles with a wince.
Arthur follows his gaze, grimacing at the sight. “Shit, I ...”
“It’s okay,” Charles says quickly, sliding an arm around Arthur’s back. “I’ve got you.”
He guides Arthur through the paddock, shielding him from view with his body. Arthur is grateful for the discretion — the last thing he needs right now is prying eyes and questions about his meltdown.
They make it back to the cool shadows of the Ferrari motorhome without incident. Charles sweeps them into one of the private rooms, locking the door securely behind them.
“There, just us,” he says, squeezing Arthur’s arm reassuringly. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what happened?”
Arthur sinks down onto the worn sofa, feeling numb and drained. He stares at his mangled hands as Charles darts away, returning a moment later with a first aid kit and a damp cloth.
“This might sting,” Charles warns, taking Arthur’s hands with surprising gentleness.
Arthur barely flinches as his brother starts cleaning away the blood and grit from his torn skin. He’s retreated deep inside his own head, memories from that hellish scene on an endless loop.
You and Oscar, tangled together so intimately. The way you looked at each other, breathless with desire. The easy intimacy and obvious hunger in every heated caress.
Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, but it does nothing to block it out. He’s never going to be able to unsee that, he realizes with a sick lurch. It’s seared into his brain forever, a brand new source of unrelenting torment.
“Arthur?” Charles’ soft voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. “What happened? Talk to me.”
Arthur blows out a shaky breath, forcing himself to meet his brother’s concerned gaze.
“I went to find Y/N,” he starts in a dull rasp. “To … to get some closure, I guess. Finally rip off the bandaid like you said.”
Charles nods in understanding, staying quiet to let Arthur continue at his own pace.
“But when I turned the corner of the McLaren garage ...” Arthur’s throat works convulsively, the memory surging back in vivid technicolor. “They were there. Making out like a couple of horny teenagers.”
He falls silent again, the words cutting off as a wave of fresh agony washes over him. God, the visual is never going to stop haunting him, is it?
“Oh, Arthur ...” Charles murmurs, squeezing his hands gently. “I’m so sorry.”
Arthur lets out a bitter huff. “Sorry? Don’t be sorry for me, Charles. Be sorry for yourself.”
Charles frowns in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Oscar,” Arthur grits out, white-hot anger flaring once more. “He stole her from me, sure. But he also stole our name. He gets to be a Leclerc now, a mockery of our home streets. Just because you stupidly joked about adopting him.”
He surges to his feet, unable to stay still with all this wrath and hurt burning through him.
“Everything that was supposed to be mine, Charles!” He shouts, prowling the room like a caged animal. “The career, the family, the girl … Oscar has taken it all! With a few laughs and some dumb jokes!”
“Arthur, that’s not fair ...” Charles tries, but Arthur barrels right over him.
“No? Well how about this — let’s see how funny those jokes are when Oscar decides he actually wants to be Charles Leclerc!” Arthur snarls. “He’ll take your career next, you watch! Take away everything that makes you special, everything that’s yours by right!”
“Arthur.” Charles is on his feet now, reaching out to grip Arthur’s shoulders firmly. “Listen to me. You need to calm down, okay? Oscar isn’t trying to take anything from us. He’s our friend!”
“How can you say that?” Arthur demands, anguish cracking through the rage. “Don’t you see what he’s done? What he’s taking from me?”
He’s breathing hard now, vision swimming as tears of mingled fury and heartbreak prick at his eyes.
“That was supposed to be my future, Charles,” he rasps. “Y/N and I … we had plans. Dreams of a life together.”
Arthur swipes angrily at the tear that escapes, blurring his vision. “Oscar doesn’t get to take that from me. He doesn’t get to make it all a mocking joke.”
“Arthur ...” Charles looks stricken now, shaking his head slowly. He pulls Arthur into another fierce hug, tucking the younger man’s head under his chin.
“I’m so sorry,” Charles murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry he hurt you like this. You don’t deserve that … any of it.”
Arthur lets out a choked sob against his brother’s shirt, all of the fight abruptly draining from him. He’s just … tired. Wrung out and hollow, aching down to his very core.
“This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, Charles,” he whispers brokenly. “Oscar was my friend … how could he do this to me?”
Charles doesn’t seem to have any answers. He just holds Arthur tighter, rocking them gently from side to side as Arthur finally gives in to his emotions. He buries his face in Charles’ shoulder and weeps — for his shattered dreams, his shredded heart, and a future that now feels impossibly out of reach.
As the sobs gradually subside, a final bitter thought takes root in Arthur’s mind. If Oscar is going to steal away the girl Arthur loves, the family he was born into, and the future he had mapped out for himself ... then Arthur hopes to god the Monaco curse falls on Oscar just as harshly as it ever has for a Leclerc.
Maybe then Oscar will finally understand just how much he’s taken from Arthur. How many dreams and pieces of Arthur's very identity he’s carelessly crushed in his quest to make himself a Leclerc on everything but paper.
Arthur’s tears have dried, leaving his cheeks chafed and eyes swollen. But the hollow ache in his chest remains, throbbing in time with his ragged breaths. He stays huddled against Charles, taking what little solace he can from his brother’s presence.
It’s all he has left now. Oscar has snatched away everything else that ever mattered to Arthur. His future, his past, his home ... all of it, gone in a spiral of heated kisses and breathless laughter.
If the cost of having it all is the Monaco curse bearing down on him, then so be it. Arthur finds himself almost hoping Oscar gets everything he so greedily took, the consequences be damned. Maybe then, just maybe, he’ll finally understand an ounce of the anguish and heartbreak he’s inflicted on Arthur.
It’s a dark, vindictive thought, one that makes Arthur's gut twist with shame. But he’d too drained, too devastated to truly care. He just presses closer to Charles, craving the simple comfort of family as reality crushes him from all sides.
His dreams, his heart, his identity ... all stolen by a former friend turned ultimate betrayer. If the Monaco curse is all Arthur has left to cling to, then so be it.
716 notes · View notes
f0point5 · 2 days
Text
It’s nice to have a friend
Part 27 of the Lando Norris x fakegirlfriend!reader social media au
Previous
A/N: Look at our little beans getting along…for now…hope you enjoy this part 🫶🫶🫶
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Tag list
@s0meth1ngs @mcmuppet @bborra @elliefindlater @stan-josie @ivegotparticulartaste @tildaharoldsegna @nikfigueiredo @cixrosie @bored-brunette2 @lovewithmary @painfromblues @buckybarnex @sainzluvrr @92spcy @ninifee1802 @mineandneveryours @mv1-hoe-era @friday5thapril @sltwins @rd14 @freakfromnorth @nikolaros22 @lanando4 @nichmeddar @leptitlu @biitch-with-wifi @leireggsworld @dreamingofautopia @satellitelh @formulaal @belennasif @woozarts @cherry-piee @saintchxx4 @kave18 @holy-macncheese-balls @dreamsarebig @shiftingtomydrs @k-pevensie28 @ssararuffoni @f1-is-lovely-33 @amalialeclerc @bellewintersroe @haydenisdumbpdf @be-your-coffee-pot @tall-tanned-tattoo @lilipiggytails @booksandflowrs @basicchelsea @localwhoore @loaves4me @seraferina @abysshaven @lozzamez3
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fastandcarlos · 2 days
Text
Soft Launch » George Russell
summary: follow the journey of george’s soft launch to reveal your relationship
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liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 629,492 others
georgerussell63: not many people I’d cook for, but tonight I’ll make an exception 🥺
28,492 comments
username1: you can cook for me anytime
oscarpiastri: chef russell on duty
username2: wait are we all just gonna pretend we don’t peep the sleeve
username3: @/username2 I thought it was just me wtf…the painted nails too
username2: @/username3 has georgie finally bagged himself a girl??? 🤔
lance_stroll: I thought the only person you cooked for was me
alex_albon: and here I was thinking the only love in your life was me
username4: this better not be a shitty soft launch russell
yukitsunoda0511: looks like you’ve done a good job!!
georgerussell63: @/yukitsunoda0511 thanks for all the tips yuki
username5: idk who this gal is but I’m already jealous
username6: all I want is to taste the cooking of george russell
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liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 838,293 others
georgerussell63: adoring the view in front of me these days 🩷
73,382 comments
danielricciardo: I can’t help the fact I make you smile so hard mate
landonorris: I think you’ll find that he was looking at me
georgerussell63: if I was looking at either of you…I wouldn’t be smiling
username7: is this to do with wine and pasta girl?
username8: you can’t just leave us like that george
username9: I have got SO many questions wtf
lewishamilton: 🫢🫢🫢🫢
username10: @/lewishamilton what do you know? share everything
charles_leclerc: what you looking down at on the right there?
username11: @/charles_leclerc surely it’s the girl from before??
username12: this is sooo unfair
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liked by lance_stroll, maxverstappen1 and 1,392,503 others
georgerussell63: suited and booted (with thanks to my girl) 🤵🏻
56,328 comments
username7: not the secret pair of hands in the middle pic
alex_albon: she’s the only reason you were best dressed tonight
carlossainz55: SMOOTH OPERATOR 🏎️
username13: what sick pleasure do you get out of teasing us like this?
username14: I don’t think I can cope with much more of this
landonorris: all her hard work on the bow tie for you to just take it off 🙄
maxverstappen1: hair slick ✅ suit dapper ✅ you must be impressing someone
oscarpiastri: got her so whipped already she’s helping you dress??
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liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly and 732,113 others
georgerussell63: enjoying the view in blue 🌊
42,832 comments
landonorris: gotta maintain that figure to maintain the girl
username15: adorable height difference confirmed 🥰
pierregasly: is your girl’s favourite colour blue by any chance?
charles_leclerc: gotta admit even I’m slightly invested in you two now
username16: we’re so close to a face reveal now
username17: just hurry up and tell us everything george
username18: I’ve never felt softer for this man
lewishamilton: the names russell…george russell 🕶️
georgerussell63: @/lewishamilton just call me then next bond
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liked by ynusername, landonorris and 1,293,493 others
georgerussell63: date night with my love 💕
62,994 comments
username19: I can almost see a face!! 😬
username20: this soft launch game is torture…c’mon george we love her already
charles_leclerc: who knew george russell could be edgy on the gram
landonorris: glad to see all those social lessons I gave you are paying off 🧑🏻‍🏫
georgerussell63: @/landonorris ofc lando, I could ever have gotten a girlfriend without you 🙄
carlossainz55: how’ve you managed to get the whole of f1 invested in your relationship?
georgerussell63: @/carlossainz55 you’ve just got to be devilishly handsome
username21: even blurry they look so happy together
username22: they’re already my fave couple ever
lewishamilton: you guys are the cutest - btw I love 🫢🫢’s smile too
username23: @/lewishamilton just spill the beans already
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liked by charles_leclerc, schecoperez and 1,238,003 others
georgerussell63: introducing my love to how us brits do summer 🥰☀️
41,226 comments
carlossainz55: aww look at georgie all in love 💕
danielricciardo: surprised you didn’t need to pack an umbrella mate 🌧️
georgerussell63: @/danielricciardo if we’d have been another five minutes the heavens would’ve drenched us 😭
username24: it’s the little tiptoe reach for me
username25: the height difference is tooooo cute
maxverstappen1: why do I feel like I’m looking at photos that belong to those weird fics some of our fans write?
georgerussell63: just call us your otp
maxverstappen1: otp???
georgerussell63: @/landonorris found you a new student
schecoperez: no one prepares you for when your son finds his first love 🤧
yukitsunoda0511: dont forget the guy who taught you to cook pasta all those months ago 💔
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likedby mercedesamgf1, landonorris and 934,774 others
georgerussell63: my love told me that I look good with black and white, so black and white it is 🩷
72,483 comments
landonorris: did she finally convince you to play some good tunes in those ears too??
oscarpiastri: I also think you look good in black and white if that counts for anything 🔥
georgerussell63: @/oscarpiastri you win my love for the most predictable comment in the world
username26: tell your love that she is spot on
charles_leclerc: must be serious when the admin team is giving you likes
georgerussell63: @/charles_leclerc they’ll do anything for the right price
username27: I just want a boyfriend like george russell…is that too much to ask for?
ynusername: 💕🥺
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liked by ynusername, maxverstappen1 and 1,585,603 others
georgerussell63: the best end to the best race, I couldn’t do it without all of your support y/n 🏎️💕
tagged: ynusername
103,482 comments
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replies and reposts are always appreciated ✨
687 notes · View notes
Text
Stomach Bug (Max Verstappen x Female Reader)
Genre: Fluff Word count: 1,4k
Max hardly ever gets sick, but when he does, he turns into a complete drama king.
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Y/N stepped into the apartment, immediately enveloped by an unsettling darkness. The silence was even more disturbing; the usual hum and glow from Max's sim racing setup were conspicuously absent. Her fingers fumbled for the light switch, fear gripped her heart. When she finally found it, the overhead lights flickered on, casting harsh shadows around the vacant living room.
“Max?” she called out, voice tinged with worry. She received no response, only the quiet pressing back at her. Panic bubbled up, and she hurried through the apartment, her mind racing with possibilities.
In the hallway leading to their bedroom, she tripped over something soft and warm. Looking down, she saw Jimmy and Sassy, their two cats, pacing restlessly. They meowed mournfully, their eyes reflecting the same concern she felt.
With a sense of dread, she pushed open the bedroom door. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tightly against the outside world. The only light came from a small bedside lamp casting a feeble glow over the disarrayed sheets.
On the bed, Max was curled up in a fetal position, his body trembling slightly. His face was buried in his arms, as if shielding himself. A pained groan escaped his lips.
“Max, oh my god, what's wrong?” she whispered, rushing to his side. She knelt on the floor, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His skin was clammy and feverish.
Max flinched at her touch but didn't move away. “It's... it's the end,” he mumbled dramatically, his voice strained and barely audible. “I'm dying, schatje.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Dying? Max, what happened?” her tone firm but filled with concern. She brushed a few strands of hair that are sticking to his forehead, her fingers lingering to check his temperature. He was burning up.
“It's my stomach,” he groaned, shifting slightly to peer at her with one eye, the other still hidden in his arm. “And I have a fever. I'm pretty sure this is it. Tell the team... tell them I fought bravely.”
Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at his theatrics. “Max, honey, you have a stomach flu and a fever. You're not dying.”
“This is no ordinary flu,” he moaned, clutching his stomach. “I can feel my organs plotting against me. They're staging a coup!”
Despite her worry, a chuckle escaped her lips. “A coup, really? Let me get you some medicine and water. Have you taken anything yet?”
“No,” he replied, his voice pitiful. “I was too weak to move. I thought I should conserve my energy for my final moments.”
“Your final moments are a bit overdramatic,” she said, shaking her head with a fond smile. “I'll be right back.”
Oh, if only everyone could witness how ridiculously cute Max Verstappen looks when he's under the weather.
Jimmy and Sassy jumped onto the bed, curling up near Max's feet as if trying to offer their own comfort. Their presence seemed to soothe him slightly, and he let out a shaky breath.
Y/N returned with a glass of water and some medicine. “Here, take these,” she instructed, helping him sit up. He took the pills with exaggerated effort, making a face as he swallowed them.
“Ugh, even the medicine tastes like defeat,” he grumbled.
Y/N couldn't help but laugh. “The mighty Max Verstappen, laid low by a stomach bug. The world will mourn.”
He cracked a small, weak smile at her teasing. “Stop it, or I'll vomit just to spite you.”
“You're going to be fine,” she reassured him, peppering a few kisses on the side of his head.“Just rest and let the medicine do its job.”
Max sighed dramatically, closing his eyes. “If I don't make it... remember me as I was. Fast, fearless, and full of life.”
Y/N laughed softly while adjusting his pillow and blanket. “I'll remember you as you are: a dramatic, lovable idiot who will be just fine by morning.”
Max managed a weak smile. “I suppose that's acceptable.”
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Y/N watched Max until his breathing slowed and he finally drifted off to sleep. His dramatic groans and exaggerated expressions faded into peaceful slumber, leaving a quiet calm in the room. She smiled softly before turning her attention to Jimmy and Sassy, who were still perched near Max's feet, their eyes wide and attentive.
“Alright, you two,” Y/N whispered, her tone mock-serious. “I need you to keep an eye on our drama king here while I go make dinner. Think you can handle it?”
Jimmy meowed as if to say, “We got this,” while Sassy flicked her tail, as if acknowledging the weighty responsibility.
Y/N chuckled. “Good. If he wakes up and starts acting like he's on his deathbed again, just give him the 'you're being ridiculous' look. You know the one.”
With one last affectionate glance at Max, she tiptoed out of the bedroom and headed to the kitchen.
As she chopped vegetables, she couldn't help but imagine Jimmy and Sassy as tiny, furry nurses. Jimmy, with a stern expression, patrolling the foot of the bed like a guardian, and Sassy, lounging elegantly, occasionally casting a disapproving glance at Max whenever he stirred or muttered in his sleep.
The thought made her giggle, and she shook her head. “What a day,” she murmured, stirring a pot of carrot soup on the stove.
As she continued cooking, Y/N kept an ear out for any signs of distress from the bedroom. The occasional muffled groan floated down the hallway.
Dinner was almost ready when she heard a particularly loud groan followed by a meow that sounded suspiciously like Jimmy trying to shush Max.
“Looks like my reinforcements are doing their job,” she said with a laugh, pouring the delicious smelling soup into bowls. She added some bread to a plate and carried the tray carefully back to the bedroom.
Entering quietly, she saw that Max was still asleep, albeit with a slightly dramatic frown on his face. Jimmy was curled up by his side, looking very pleased with himself, while Sassy had taken up residence on Max's pillow, one eye half-open in lazy vigilance.
“You two did great,” Y/N whispered, setting the tray down on the bedside table. "Now let's see if we can get him to eat something."
As she gently woke Max, he blinked groggily, his eyes focusing on her. “Schat... what time is it?”
“It's half past eight,” she replied softly.
Max groaned, his face scrunching up in dismay. “Oh no, I was supposed to play padel with Lando, Alex, and the others tonight. I forgot to cancel on them.”
Y/N smiled, shaking her head affectionately. “Don't worry about it. How about I call Lando for you and let him know you're out of commission for the night?”
Even in his sickness, Max managed to give her an incredulous look. “Why do you even bother asking? You can open my phone anytime. You're practically the other half of my brain.”
She laughed, reaching over to the nightstand to grab his phone. “I just like to be polite, you know? Didn't want to intrude on any top-secret racing strategies.”
Max chuckled weakly, then winced as his stomach reminded him of its displeasure. “Trust me, no strategies. Just lots and lots of cat memes.”
Unlocking his phone, Y/N scrolled through his contacts until she found Lando's number. She pressed the call button, holding the phone to her ear while keeping an eye on Max.
After a few rings, Lando's cheerful voice answered, “Max! Where are you, mate?”
“Hi, Lando, it's actually Y/N,” she said. “Max is feeling pretty terrible right now. Stomach flu and a fever.”
“Oh no, poor Max.” Lando replied, his tone immediately concerned. “Is he going to survive, or do we need to send an ambulance?”
Max, overhearing the conversation, groaned dramatically from the bed. “Tell him I'm fighting valiantly but I don't know if I'll make it.”
Y/N relayed the message, rolling her eyes playfully. “He says he's fighting valiantly but might not make it.”
Lando laughed. “Classic Max. Tell him to rest up and we'll catch him next time. And give him our best.”
“Will do, Lando. Thanks,” Y/N said, ending the call. She turned back to Max, who was watching her with a tired but grateful smile.
“You always know how to handle everything,” he said softly.
She smiled, setting his phone back on the nightstand and handing him the bowl of soup. “That's what I'm here for. Now, eat this. It's carrot soup, made with love.”
He took the bowl, looking at her with genuine affection. “Thanks, schatje. You're the best. This smells lovely.”
As he eats, Jimmy and Sassy moved in closer, as if to supervise the meal. Y/N sat beside him, ready to keep his spirits high.
993 notes · View notes
slutforln4 · 2 days
Text
TWO PRIZES
🖇️ lando norris x f1 journalist!reader
🖇️ in which you realise lando wasn’t just the driver you interviewed
🖇️ warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol
🖇️ author’s note: the bits in italic are her memories :)
࿐ ࿔*:・゚
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Excitement pulsed through your veins at the mere sound of engines roaring.
The amount of people trying to push past you made you anxious, but you knew it was all part of the experience. Everyone was bunching up to watch one of the greatest events of all time— the Monaco GrandPrix.
Once you make it through the crowd, avoiding elbows and shoulders of people much taller and energetic than you, the entrance that you need comes into view.
You weren’t just excited for the interviews you were going to watch up close, but also the entire concept of the race. The hustle of engineers in all these garages, working their hardest to get the drivers in and out of the pits with minimal time to waste. Not to mention the drivers themselves, having to sit in the cars for multiple hours over the race weekend with no complaints— they chose to do this, they deal with the consequences.
That’s exactly what excited you. The reasoning for their choice to do this, you wanted to ask each and every one of them why they wanted to do this, what was so interesting?
You guessed their answer would be the same as yours if you were asked why you became a sports journalist.
Keeping your amazement at bay, you observed the race, focused on everything going on even though it was a lot to keep up with. But that’s exactly what you were there for.
You were sitting in the grandstands, intently watching the cars fly past you, when your phone rang. The caller ID said it was your coworker who had also been at the race but disappeared about ten minutes ago.
“Hello?”
She sounded distressed when you heard her voice. “Hey, love. I was wondering if you could take over the post-race interviews?”
Today was supposed to be a sort of intern day for you, meaning you were just going to watch your colleague interview the drivers and better understand what the etiquette is for it. You hadn’t expected to have your first interview today.
“Uh, why?” You asked, in a whisper. “You know I’ve never interviewed anyone before, right?”
“So?” She seemed much more confident in you than you were in yourself. “You’ve studied journalism for a few years now, yeah? I don’t think you’d have taken an internship at SkySports for nothing.”
“I mean, I guess?” You shrug. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to actual drivers, though. What if I make a fool of myself?”
“You won’t if you remember that they’re just people doing their jobs, and you’re doing your job by asking them questions.” She makes a good point and you sigh in defeat.
“Alright, I’ll do it. Send over the information you’ve written.”
“Sorry.” You hear her slightly laugh. “You gotta fend for yourself with that one, hun. It’s a cruel world we live in. Cheers.”
With that, the call ended and you were left with nothing but anxiety weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the race seemed to fly by in mere minutes, your mind too focused on the pressure of your first ever interview.
Well, not first ever.
You imagined the day would come sooner or later, so you’d practise a conversation with one of the drivers by speaking to yourself in the mirror. That, and watching multiple interviews through the years, soaking up every bit of information you could about the process of it.
Before you knew it, you were standing in a sea of people with their cameras, waiting for the drivers to make their way to you.
It wasn’t that nerve wracking when you actually started talking to them, and by the time you got to Daniel, you had lost all feelings of anxiety, instead laughing along to his jokes.
You thought so, at least. A feeling of intimidation crawled up your spine when your eyes locked with Lando Norris, a driver for Mclaren. You noticed the piercing look from across the room as he spoke to a different interviewer, his green pupils tracking your every move as you spoke to Oscar.
The interview with Oscar wraps up and he begins turning away from you. “Good luck on your next race!”
Oscar smiled at you as he walked off to somewhere you could only guess.
If you had been anxious before, you were probably five times as anxious now, because Oscar Piastri leaving the spot in front of you meant that Lando Norris would be replacing him. And, for whatever reason, he was making you incredibly nervous.
You looked down at the ground as Lando approached you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t bear looking up at him, knowing he’s already staring at you. But it was part of your job and you had to stay professional.
“Hello, Lando.” You said, cheerily.
“Hi,” he grinned at you, sweaty and all, his dimples appearing for a split second. “How are you?”
“I’m alright, thanks, how was the race?” You asked with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when he smiled at you again.
Lando’s green eyes studied your face, soaking up each detail he missed since the last time he had seen you. He knows you don’t remember him and he doesn’t need you to, it’s kind of nice to feel something without reciprocation from the other.
After a long while, Lando shrugged. “Yeah, uh, the race was pretty good, I mean, I got first place, so I’d say it’s good. Y’know, aside from Oscar’s incident, but that’s not something we can predict, it just happens.”
You watched intently as he explained the race, your eyes oddly drawn to his lips. The pattern at which they move, and the tempting way he pokes his tongue out to tap the corners of his lips, makes you weak.
This was horribly unprofessional of you, and you knew that, but the charms of this young british racer had worked their magic on you, and you weren’t strong enough to resist it.
You felt like it was just the two of you in the room and both of you were trying your damn best not to break, one for more reasons than the other.
“Yeah, it seems like it was a lucky race for you, the pace of your car was incredible to watch.” You pointed out, looking down at the race data on your clipboard. “The RedBull’s were a bit slower this race, do you think that gave you an advantage?”
“Well, they already win races left, right and centre. They have to be bad sometimes.” Lando stifled a laugh. “But, uh, I don’t know. I think it all came down to the car and my ability to control it. The pace was insane, honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be faster than a RedBull.”
The joke made you giggle and you quickly hid your face by looking away for a mere moment, in an attempt to recollect yourself. Thankfully, none of the cameras were on your face.
“Or it’s just pure talent, I’d say.” You look back up at him, his eyes never once leaving your face. He’s so smiley and it’s contagious, so you can’t help but smile at him, too. “Any plans for the celebration? You must be feeling ecstatic about your first win, so I assume the celebration must be as big as this.”
Lando puts the tube of his water bottle to his lips and takes a long sip, eyes still glued to you. He wasn’t even blinking, far too focused on the shape of your lips and how good they felt that night. That one night you can’t seem to remember.
“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest.” He shrugs, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, biting back the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. “I still have to call my mum and siblings.”
“I’m sure they’re incredibly proud of you,” you smile, politely. He’s still intently looking at you, cheeks now burning red at your comment accompanied by his massive grin.
It was time to wrap up your chat with Lando, but, in all honesty, you really didn’t want to. You felt something brewing in your chest at the mere feeling of his eyes burning into you, and it excited you.
Still, you ignore it. You had to stay professional, even if it was all too much to handle. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lando. Congratulations and good luck next race.”
“Will you be interviewing me next time, too?” Lando asks, making no move to walk away just yet. His eyes narrowed onto yours when you looked back at him, an adorably surprised look on your face.
“Uh,” you look away for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe.” He gave you another cocky smirk and nodded his head as a farewell, leaving you nothing but a blushing mess in the media pen.
After a plethora of interviews back to back, you were tired beyond words. Your feet were sore, your back hurt, you felt your eyelids close if you stood still for longer than two seconds. The image of your soft hotel bed made you motivated to keep moving through the building and find your way out.
“Oh, hey!” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, was it?”
Your eyes find their way to the person behind you and you’re happy to see that it’s Daniel. “Daniel! Hi, nice to see you again.” You extended a hand to shake and he smiled as he squeezed it.
“Was lovely talking to you earlier. You asked such great questions, honestly, it made me really think about my answers, y’know?” You hadn’t noticed how both of you started walking again and he kept up with your pace. “How long have you been doing this?”
“Oh, interviewing?” You ask and he nods eagerly, with the energy of a little boy.“This was my first official day of interviewing, actually. I had to step in for my colleague.”
“No way.” He muses, jaw slack and eyes glimmering with interest. “The way you interacted with me had me thinking you were carrying a load of experience.”
You stifle a laugh and watch the path ahead. “Yeah, well. I practised a lot in my room. You have race sims, I have a mirror and a hairbrush for a microphone.”
Daniel’s laugh echoed in the mostly empty area around you. “You’re funny, too.” He muses once again, shocked by how much fun you can be. “Listen, I know it’s not professional to ask this, but are you free tonight?”
“Oh, uh,” you look up at him and hesitate. “I’m not interested in-“
“No, no,” Daniel waves his hands in the air as if to stop the words spilling from your mouth. “God, no. I was going to ask if you’d like to come to the club later, all of the drivers are gonna be there to celebrate Lando’s win. It could be fun.”
You paused in your steps, brows furrowing as you felt a beam of energy climb up your spine. All of a sudden, your bed didn’t seem like the comfiest thing in the world and you were willing to exchange it for a pair of heels and a dress.
“I’d like that, yeah.” You smiled at Daniel and he reciprocated the gesture.
He gives you a card with his number on it and you gladly pluck it from his fingers. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride to the club. Cheers.”
And with that, he disappeared into the car park, the only remainder of his friendly presence being his lingering smell in the air and the scribbled number on the back of a grocery store coupon.
“Thanks, mate.”
Lando’s hand felt heavy as he shook it with someone he barely knew, congratulating him on the win. He’s been stuck in this large group of people for way too long, desperately looking for an escape. And, eventually, he found it— you.
His eyes have been stuck to you for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for the people to finish congratulating him so he could finally talk to you.
When the perfect moment arose, Lando swiftly shimmied between the dancing bodies and made his way to the bar. You were still sitting there, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw you, but now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Lando’s voice startles you when he plops down in a bar stool beside you.
You smile at him, feeling the same anxiety crawl up your spine as the last time you saw him. “I’d say the same, but this feels like the perfect place for a race winner.”
“I honestly hated it before,” he shrugged, looking out into the crowd. “I used to party after a podium, second place being the best I’ve ever had.”
“But now you’re here as a winner.” You’re still looking at him when he turns back around. There’s something so nostalgic about the way he looks at you, almost as if you’ve already been there and seen him before. “Victory looks good on you.”
“Yeah?” He flashes a grin your way, raising a brow. “I’ll try to win more then. Maybe I’ll get to see you again that way.”
“I’m free whenever you want to see me,” you blurt. Lando’s eyebrows raise with surprise when you say that and he bursts into a small laugh when you start flailing your hands around in the air. “Sorry, that’s so unprofessional, I didn’t mean to–“
“It’s fine,” he assures you. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here. But that’s so unprofessional of me.”
“Mr. Norris!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. Lando watches with an amused grin on his face as you smile back at him. “I’d like that very much.”
It didn’t take long for both of you to swivel your way past the drunk people in the club and find yourselves in a cab. Lando’s hand made a home on your thigh and you didn’t mind. It felt warm, secure and turned you on when he inched it closer to the hem of your dress.
Time flew fast in the company of a race winner, especially one as charming and attractive as Lando. You didn’t realise how many hours had passed after you had left the club and, frankly, you didn’t really care.
The moments spent with him felt somehow nostalgic, as if you had felt this way before. But you’re sure you just dreamt it. There’s no way you’ve met Lando before and didn’t remember it.
It felt silly to think that, so you just ignored that thought and continued watching the intoxicating way his lips moved as he spoke. He’s been talking about something for the past five minutes and you didn’t hear a word of it, being far too focused on the pattern of his freckles, the dip of his nose and the gentleness of his eyes when he looked at you.
“What’s on your mind?” He asked, voice gentle and cautious.
You bit back a smile, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. “You.”
The nostalgic feeling snuck its way into the back of your mind when he kissed you, his lips and hands feeling like a long lost home. You somehow already knew the melody of his breathing and the pattern of his hair, the familiarity of his kiss starting a fire in your chest. You felt the warmth of his lust spread through your torso, creeping up your neck, softly toying with the giggle in your throat.
Stars spackled on the inside of your eyelids and the harmonious sounds leaving your lips finally drew you back to that night.
Warm hands. Gentle strokes and soft kisses. Careful fingertips trailing their way down your hips. Lando’s tongue danced on your aching bud and you felt the whole world fade away. The mere touch of his fingers on your hips to keep you still reminded you of the last time.
“Mmh, fuck.” Lando hummed against you, the vibrations sending bolts of lightning through your veins. “So good. So fucking good for me, y/n.”
His tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge. The alcohol in your system mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body was a lethal combination. Your legs shook as you felt your walls close around nothing, Lando’s mouth attached to you as if he was a starved man and you were the first thing he could get his mouth on.
“I’m- I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before making a mess all over his goatee. He licked up every last bit of you, the sweet taste of you making a perfect combination with the aftertaste of whiskey in the back of his throat.
You stayed lying there, eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, deep breaths inflating your chest. Lando watched you, green eyes soaking in every inch of you— he wasn’t sure if you’d remember him this time, so he made the most of every moment spent with you.
After a while of him watching you, you felt Lando get up and come back in a few minutes, a damp towel in his hands. He touched your most sensitive parts with the weight of nothing, carefulness sewn into every movement he made. At that point, you were drifting in and out of consciousness, not fully knowing when the bed dipped under Lando’s weight again.
You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you in, the warmth of his bare skin heating your cheek. You were hesitant to speak, cautious as to not say something wrong. So, instead of speaking, you lifted your head and connected your lips with his again, the minty taste of his lips making you smile.
“It was you.”
Lando hummed into the kiss, as if to acknowledge that it was him, but also to ask what you meant.
You pulled away, fingers immediately making home in his curls. “That night.” A familiar look painted itself across Lando’s face. “I tried so hard to remember whose lips felt like home, and only the weight of yours reminded me.”
“You were thinking about me?” Lando inquired, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.
You nodded. “Every day since that night.”
Lando smiled before kissing you again. “You never left my mind. I kept reminiscing that night, waiting for fate to magically bring us back to one another.” He whispered against your hairline, lips pressing soft, love-filled kisses against your skin. “Didn’t expect to win two prizes in one day.”
A small laugh slipped past your lips. “What a lucky man you are, Mr. Norris.”
“The luckiest.” He hummed. “Because I finally have you.”
570 notes · View notes
lvndosnorris · 21 hours
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lando paying for his girlfriend's nails and asking her to get those sharp stilettos because he likes when she MAULS his back during sex. bet he'll show them off like hickeys like a cocky and proud bastard being like "oh yeah i made her feel so good that she mauled my back."
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you'd he so confused as the texts came through on your phone, eyebrow cocked as you pointed out which nails you lando wanted and made yourself comfortable in the salon seat. only did it register why he wanted you to get the stiletto style when he finally got back home, his thumb tracing over your knuckles as you wiggled your fingers, "you like?"
and boy did he like — buried between your thighs only a matter of minutes afterwards, babbling about how much he'd missed you even though you'd only been apart for a couple of hours. his hands grabby as they guided them to the back of his head, whining as you dug your nails into the nape of his neck. his tongue parting your cunt as you held him tightly against you, mumbling incoherently about how good you tasted and how he could live here, face buried in your cunt, for the rest of his life.
but his true intentions for the chosen nails would soon become completely apparent when he was balls deep inside of you, head buried in the crook of his neck as lando was near enough begging for you to mark him. your hands clutching his back, leaving small red marks that burnt his skin with every hard rock of his hips. it was brutal, the pain mixing with the pleasure in a way that had his rhythm falter and tremble. and you could have sworn you're drawn blood at some point, your scratches and claw marks decorating his upper back and waist as you were brought closer and closer to ecstasy.
and even though you swatted at him with his shirt he'd refuse to cover them — a reminder of how good he fucks you, how good he can make you feel because fuck, look at them. even going as far to sneakily leave snide remarks whenever he had friends around, the small ones that were left of his biceps harder to conceal as you'd hide your face and quickly scarper the minute they were brought up.
566 notes · View notes
lorarri · 2 days
Text
★ . . . 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 , 𝐋𝐍𝟒
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summary , lando goes on buzzfeed to read thirst tweets about him? no more like about his amazing girlfriend and their sex life
pairing , lando norris x fem! gf! reader
series masterlist | main masterlist | f1 masterlist | next part
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BUZZFEED → LANDO NORRIS READS THIRST TWEETS
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652 notes · View notes
claypgeon · 1 day
Text
two lonely friends | oscar piastri
pairing: oscar piastri x journalist!reader
summary: lando norris has two lonely best friends. he gets an idea, why not set them up?
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f1wags: y/n l/n, landos bestfriend was seen entering the monaco grand prix paddock today!
view comments below!
user1: OH BROTHER
user2: free my girl y/n 🗣️
user3: the day y/n stops getting referred to as “landos bestfriend” is the day i can REST
user4: landos bestfriend?? sorry i only know y/n l/n f1 journalist ??
user5: y’all do this every race 🙄 OFC SHES THERE. THATS HER JOB.
user6: she’s such a moocher
user7: she’s literally there to do HER JOB ??
user8: it’s crazy how after a year of oscar being in f1, we still haven’t gotten a y/n and oscar interaction ???
user9: y/n, our comfort outfit queen
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ynandlandocontent: my favorite snippet of landos and y/ns interview 🧡
view comments below!
user10: ugh them ☹️☹️
user11: literally just make out already
user12: the very best FRIENDS
user13: she’s so unprofessional 💀
user14: this wasn’t even part of the interview 😭 this was just a blooper 🙄
user15: OKAY BUT Y/N FINALLY GOT TO INTERVIEW OSCAR ???
user16: ugh i love them so much 😞
user17: lando and y/n shippers where ???
user18: HERE 🙋‍♂️
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oscarpastyupdates: y/n interviewing oscar today!
view comments below!
user19: oscar “but um” piastri everyone!
user20: FINALLY SOME Y/N x OSCAR CONTENT !!
user23: why do i ship…
user24: they literally only talked once 😭😭
user23: okay let me BEEE
user25: guys did you see how hard he was blushing, or am i just crazy ???
user26: they literally want each other SO BAD
user27: i can feel the tension through the screen
user28: ok so do i ship lando x y/n or oscar x y/n
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— one day later !
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ynupdates: queen y/n was seen out last night by multiple fans! she looks beautiful!
view comments below!
user29: HELLOOO ???? IS THAT NOT OSCAR
user30: ARE WE JUST GOING TO PRETEND THAT THAT IS NOT OSCAR PIASTRI ???
user31: omg oscar stole landos girl
user32: landos girl ???
user33: wait i like this
user34: i love how the caption doesn’t mention oscar at ALL
user35: let them cook 🔥🔥
user36: okay oscar i see you 👀
user37: i wonder how lando feels about this..
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lando.jpg: happy birthday to my little sister! you’re ancient now 😞 here’s to many more birthdays together!
view comments below!
user38: aw ☹️
user39: okay guys i’m crying
user40: lando ALWAYS eats with his birthday captions
user41: i wonder if landos ex’s had ever felt intimidated by y/n
user42: y/n has said that she has never not gotten along with landos gfs, so there’s that!
user43: okay now kiss
user44: i still ship idc
user45: her and lando ✅ her and oscar ❌
yourusername: ugh lando you love me so much, it’s disgusting
lando.jpg: i will take away your present.
yourusername: NO IM SORRY
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yourusername: and who’s gonna pay attention to the redheads of the world?
pic credits: some kid named oscar ??
view comments below!
user46: OKAY OKAY OKAY
user47: ugh you look so good 😔
user48: OSCAR IN THE CAPTION ??? WE ARE SO BACK !!!
user49: happy birthday queen !!
user50: happy birthday 🧡🧡
user51: oscar and y/n hard launch when ???
oscarpiastri: ME I’LL PAY ATTENTION TO THE REDHEADS OF THE WOLRD !!! I WILL !!
user52: okay oscar let’s calm down..
user53: oh he’s down bad
user54: who needs more confirmation then THIS ??
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oscarpiastri: happy birthday to my best friend, and the most beautiful lady in the world 🧡
view comments below!
landonorris: bestfriend?
landonorris: oh okay
landonorris: cool cool cool
landonorris: yeah that’s chill
landonorris: totally NOT going to brust out into tears rn
landonorris: hahaha
landonorris: that would be stupid
landonorris: cool cool cool
landonorris: okay okay okay
landonorris: i set you two up and you just completely forget about me huh
landonorris: wow i can’t believe this
landonorris; i’m going to die alone
landonorris; alone and sad
landonorris: FUCK YOU GUYS
user55: let’s all just move pass lando having a mental breakdown…
803 notes · View notes