fanfictionismyaddiction

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Toto’s Guard Dog – Part 5

Part 1 Parte 2 Part 3 Part 4

Word count: 636

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Summary: Y/n finally kisses Toto, but when Christian Horner catches them and starts running his mouth, she unleashes hell.

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Y/n had Toto Wolff right where she wanted him.

For weeks, he’d been smirking, teasing, playing his little power games. But now? Now she was in control.

And Toto hated it.

Well, hated might be the wrong word.

Because every time she leaned in just a little too close—every time she touched his tie, ran her fingers down his arm, or murmured something suggestive just for him—his restraint cracked just a little more.

She was winning.

Until, of course, he decided to ruin her life.

It happened in the Mercedes motorhome.

The paddock had been hot, sticky, exhausting. Y/n had been up since sunrise, running around, dealing with logistics, making fun of Horner three times before breakfast—the usual.

By the time she made it back to the hospitality lounge, she was done.

Toto, of course, looked perfectly fine. No sweat, no exhaustion—just standing there in his crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, arms crossed, watching her like he knew things.

She scowled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His smirk deepened. “Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking.”

Toto chuckled, stepping closer—too close, really. “I was just wondering…” He tilted his head. “How far are you willing to push this, schatzi?”

Her breath caught. “Push what?”

Toto leaned in, so close she could feel his breath. “This game of yours.”

For the first time in her life, Y/n was speechless.

And Toto?

Toto knew it.

He chuckled, so smug, and started to pull away.

Absolutely not.

Before he could move, Y/n grabbed his collar and kissed him.

Hard.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t slow. It was a collision—weeks of tension snapping like a rubber band, lips crashing, hands tangling in fabric and hair.

Toto made a sound deep in his throat—half surprise, half something much darker—and then his arms were around her, one hand gripping her waist, the other cupping her face as he devoured her.

God, he kissed like he did everything else—completely, overwhelmingly, like he owned her.

Y/n felt dizzy. Drunk. Gone.

And then—

“Ohhhhhh, well isn’t this adorable?”

Y/n and Toto ripped apart.

And there, standing in the doorway, looking way too smug—

Was Christian Horner.

Y/n was going to jail.

She could already see the headlines: Mercedes Strategist Murders Red Bull Team Principal in Broad Daylight.

Horner was grinning. “I knew there was something going on with you two.” He wagged a finger between them. “You know, Toto, for all your talk about professionalism, this seems very—”

“Get out.” Y/n’s voice was deadly.

Horner ignored her. “Honestly, this explains so much. The guard dog routine? The constant defending?” He smirked. “Tell me, Y/n, is it loyalty or are you just whipped?”

Toto tensed.

Y/n saw red.

“Oh, that’s rich,” she snapped. “You want to talk about being whipped? You’re the one whose wife has to publicly defend you every other week because you can’t keep your mouth shut.”

Horner’s smirk faltered.

Y/n wasn’t done.

“You have the audacity to call me Toto’s guard dog when you’re literally running around begging for scraps of validation from a team that doesn’t even like you? How embarrassing.” She took a step closer. “You think I’m obsessed with him? Sweetheart, you’re obsessed with beating him. And you never will.”

Horner opened his mouth—then shut it.

And for the first time ever, Christian Horner had nothing to say.

Y/n smiled sweetly. “Now. Get out.”

Horner turned on his heel and left.

The second the door shut, Toto let out a long whistle. “Mein Gott.”

Y/n turned to him, still fuming. “I hate him.”

Toto grinned. “I know.”

She crossed her arms. “I—”

Before she could finish, Toto grabbed her face and kissed her again.

Hard.

Possessive.

Like he owned her.

Like he was saying, Mine.

And Y/n?

She kissed him back.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Trophy Boyfriend

Word count: 450

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris fully embraces his role as Y/n L/n’s devoted trophy boyfriend, happily standing in the background while she steals the spotlight.

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Lando Norris had a lot of titles to his name—Formula 1 driver, McLaren’s golden boy, future world champion (hopefully). But none of them mattered quite as much as the one he held now: Y/n L/n’s boyfriend.

It was a role he took very seriously. Not because he was the main character in this relationship—he wasn’t, not even a little. Y/n was the main event, the superstar, the reason photographers nearly toppled over themselves trying to snap pictures when they walked into a room together.

She was everything. And he was just… well, Lando.

He didn’t mind.

“I love this dress,” he said, watching Y/n twirl in front of the mirror. It was something sleek, designer, probably gifted by a brand that wanted her to post about it.

“You think so?” she mused, adjusting the straps.

“I think,” Lando said, sliding his hands around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, “that every single person at this event is going to wish they were me.”

Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m right.” He grinned. “I’m literally dating you. Do you know how crazy that is?”

She turned in his arms, smoothing a hand through his curls. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

“I mean, look at you,” he continued dramatically. “Gorgeous. Talented. Everyone loves you. And then there’s me—your little trophy boyfriend.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Little?”

“Well, figuratively.” He leaned in closer, voice dropping. “Not literally.”

She smacked his chest, but he could see the way her lips curled up. “Behave.”

“Never,” he murmured, stealing a quick kiss before she could stop him.

The gala was exactly what Lando expected—Y/n’s show, and he was just happy to be a part of it.

People flocked to her the second they arrived, showering her with compliments, gushing over her latest projects, asking for pictures. Lando, in the meantime, sipped his drink and stood a little off to the side, perfectly content to let her shine.

Occasionally, she would reach back for him, lacing their fingers together like a silent reminder: You’re still my favorite person here.

He liked that.

At some point, a well-meaning (but oblivious) businessman clapped Lando on the back and said, “Must be nice, huh? Being with someone like Y/n.”

Lando just grinned. “Mate, I wake up every day and wonder how I pulled it off.”

It was true. He had no delusions about who the star was in this relationship. Y/n walked into a room and owned it, and Lando? He was just happy to be the guy holding her purse when she needed both hands to take a picture.

And honestly? Best gig ever.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Toto’s Guard Dog – Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Word count: 576

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Summary: Y/n finally flips the game on Toto, turning the tables with subtle touches and bold teasing

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It hit Y/n like a lightning bolt.

For weeks, Toto had been playing with her—smirking, touching, whispering in that low Austrian murmur that sent shivers down her spine. He knew what he was doing to her, and he was enjoying every second of it.

But then she saw it.

The momentary flicker in his expression whenever she pushed back.

The way his smirk faltered—just for a second—when she called him obsessed with her.

The way his fingers twitched when she held his gaze for a little too long.

Toto Wolff, the smug, unshakable, all-powerful team principal, was not as unaffected as he pretended to be.

And that?

That was interesting.

She tested the theory in the Mercedes garage first.

Toto was leaning over a desk, talking strategy with an engineer, sleeves rolled up, watch gleaming on his wrist—the usual dangerous look. Y/n strolled in, casually resting her hand on his shoulder as she peered at the laptop screen.

“What are we looking at, boss?” she asked, making sure to lean in just enough.

She felt it. The way his muscles tensed under her touch.

Then, she leaned closer, brushing his arm as she pointed at the screen. “Mmm. So serious.” She tilted her head, letting her voice drop just slightly. “You love being in control, huh?”

Toto turned his head, gaze locking onto hers.

For a second, just a second, she saw it—his throat bobbed, his jaw clenched, and his fingers flexed like he was resisting the urge to do something about it.

Gotcha.

But then, just as quickly, he smirked. “Schatzi,” he murmured, voice silky smooth, “if you want my attention, you need only ask.”

Y/n’s breath caught—damn it.

Fine. Round one went to him.

But the game was officially on.

Her next move was in the paddock.

They were walking together when a reporter from Sky Sports approached. “Y/n! Any thoughts on this weekend’s battle between Mercedes and Red Bull?”

She hummed, tapping her finger against her chin. “Well, obviously I want us to win. But I do love a challenge.”

The reporter smiled. “You don’t mind things getting a little… competitive?”

Y/n glanced at Toto.

And then, before she could second-guess it, she reached out and straightened his tie.

Toto froze.

Everyone saw it. The reporters, the cameramen, the entire paddock. His smirk didn’t drop, but his eyes—his eyes told a different story.

Y/n smoothed her hand down his chest, feigning innocence. “I thrive in competition,” she said sweetly.

Toto inhaled sharply.

She smirked.

This time, he was the one left standing there, speechless, as she walked away.

By the time the press conference rolled around, the paddock knew.

George nudged Lewis. “She’s flipping the game on him.”

Lewis grinned. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Y/n took her seat next to Toto, crossing her legs slowly, deliberately, watching as his gaze flickered downward before he caught himself.

When Christian Horner started talking—some nonsense about Red Bull dominance—she leaned in toward Toto, close enough that only he could hear.

“Do you ever get tired of him?” she murmured.

Toto huffed a quiet laugh. “Every day.”

She tilted her head, watching him out of the corner of her eye. “Maybe next time, I should sit on your lap instead. Just so he knows his place.”

Toto stiffened.

His hand clenched on the table.

For the first time ever, she had made him squirm.

And damn, it felt good.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Y/n vs. Lando’s Simulator Addiction

Word count: 620

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Y/n is tired of Lando prioritizing his sim racing over romantic dates.

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Y/n leaned against the doorway of Lando’s gaming room, arms crossed, watching him with an unimpressed expression. His eyes were glued to the triple monitors, fingers effortlessly working the wheel and pedals as if his life depended on it. The sound of tires screeching and engines roaring filled the room.

This had become their routine. Lando had free time? Straight to the sim. Morning? Sim. Afternoon? Sim. Midnight? Still sim. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate his dedication—God, she loved how passionate he was—but she was starting to feel like she was competing with a machine for his attention.

“You know,” she finally spoke, making Lando flinch slightly, “I think I deserve some quality time that doesn’t involve me watching you pretend to drive a car.”

Lando barely spared her a glance. “Babe, this isn’t pretending. It’s training.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Training for what?”

“This is serious business,” he said, still hyper-focused. “You wouldn’t get it.”

Oh, that did it. Y/n straightened, jaw tightening. He wouldn’t get away with dismissing her like that.

“Okay, McSimBoy. Let’s make a bet,” she declared.

That finally got his attention. Lando paused the game and turned to her with a smirk. “Oh? You wanna bet me? On the sim? You’ve never even raced before.”

“Exactly,” she said, playing up her inexperience. “So, if I win, you owe me five romantic dates. I get to pick them, and no complaining.”

Lando laughed, tilting his head back. “This is the easiest bet I’ve ever made. And when I win?”

Y/n shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

He grinned. “Alright, then. You’re on.”

What Lando didn’t know was that Y/n had been training in secret for weeks—with none other than Max Verstappen as her coach.

“You know,” Max had said during their first training session, “this might be the most fun I’ve had in years.”

Y/n huffed, gripping the wheel as she tried to keep up with him on the Red Bull simulator. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or scared.”

“A bit of both,” Max smirked.

Every day, Y/n had dedicated hours to perfecting her skills, learning everything from racing lines to braking techniques. Max was relentless, but she loved every second of it. The best part? Lando had no clue.

Lando sat in his usual seat, all confidence, fingers flexing over the wheel. Y/n took her place beside him, cool and composed.

“Ready to lose, love?” he teased.

She simply smiled. “We’ll see.”

The lights went out, and the race began.

Within the first lap, Lando was concerned. By the second lap, he was nervous. And by the third? He was absolutely terrified.

Y/n was fast—not just “surprisingly good” fast, but “how the hell did you get this fast?” fast. She nailed every corner, executed flawless overtakes, and blocked him with zero hesitation.

Lando, gripping the wheel in disbelief, finally shouted, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!”

Y/n grinned. “Guess I do get it after all.”

Max, watching the whole thing from Y/n’s phone on FaceTime, burst out laughing. “Lando, mate, you’re getting cooked!”

Lando’s eyes widened. “MAX?! YOU TRAINED WITH MAX?!”

“Oops,” Y/n said playfully. “Forgot to mention that part.”

Despite his best efforts, Lando couldn’t recover. Y/n crossed the finish line first, throwing her hands up in victory.

“YES! YOU OWE ME FIVE DATES!” she cheered.

Lando sat back in defeat, running a hand down his face. “This is the most betrayed I’ve ever felt.”

Y/n leaned in, pecking his cheek. “You’ll live. Now, start planning date number one.”

And just like that, the simulator had finally lost its grip on Lando Norris.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Toto’s Guard Dog – Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Word count: 420

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Summary: Y/n continues her ruthless campaign against The Hobbit, but when a reporter questions her devotion to Toto.

________________________________________________________

Y/n was losing her goddamn mind.

It had been two days since Toto texted her Good girl, and she had not known peace since.

Every time her phone buzzed, she jumped. Every time she heard his voice in the garage, her stomach did a little flip. Every time he looked at her, her brain short-circuited like a teenage girl in a Wattpad fanfic.

And the worst part?

He knew.

Oh, that smug Austrian knew.

Because now, Toto was having fun with it.

The subtle touches? The lingering glances? The slightly-too-low murmurs of “Come, schatzi” when he wanted her to follow him somewhere?

He was playing a game.

And Y/n was losing.

Her downward spiral came to a head during the next race weekend.

It started off normally—meaning she made fun of Christian Horner at least three times before noon.

First, she tweeted:

“Watching The Hobbit talk about cost caps is so funny. Like sir, weren’t you just on trial?”

Then, when he walked by in the paddock, she turned to Carmen Mundt and said, loudly, “Is it just me, or does Christian Horner have the energy of a man who peaked in high school?”

And finally, during a press conference, when a reporter asked Horner about his thoughts on Toto, Y/n let out a very obvious fake yawn from the Mercedes side of the room.

It was perfect.

But then came the interview.

She had just finished hyping up Lewis when the Sky Sports reporter smirked at her. “So, Y/n, you’ve become quite the defender of Toto Wolff this season. A real… guard dog, if you will.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Someone has to keep The Hobbit in check.”

The reporter laughed. “And Toto? What does he think about it?”

Y/n opened her mouth—then shut it.

Because suddenly, she felt it.

A presence.

His presence.

She turned her head just in time to see Toto standing a few feet away, watching her with that infuriating smirk, arms crossed, looking like a man who thoroughly enjoyed being talked about.

“Oh, he loves it,” she said before she could stop herself.

The reporter raised an eyebrow. “Loves it?”

Y/n locked eyes with Toto.

His smirk deepened.

And before she could chicken out, she smiled.

“Of course,” she said, tilting her head. “He’s obsessed with me.”

Toto huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he walked off.

And Y/n?

Y/n realized—

She might not just be Toto’s guard dog.

She might be his favorite one, too.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Ultimate Glow-Up – Part 2

Part 1

Word count: 704

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando is thrilled to reunite with his childhood best friend Y/n – until he realizes she has a boyfriend

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Lando was, without a doubt, experiencing a full system malfunction.

Because Y/n—his childhood best friend, his former awkward-phase companion, the same girl who used to send him Minecraft memes at 3 AM—was giggling at something Oscar said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and Lando was standing there like a complete idiot, staring at her like she’d just walked out of a damn movie.

This was not fair.

“Earth to Lando.” Y/n waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance. “You okay? You look like you just got hit with a blue shell.”

Lando blinked. “I—yeah, no, totally fine. Just—” Just having a minor crisis because I think I might have a crush on you now, and that’s really inconvenient, actually.

He cleared his throat. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

She grinned. “Yeah, well, I was in town, and I thought, ‘Hey, why not check out the Grand Prix and see if my old best friend is still driving in circles for a living?’”

Lando rolled his eyes. “Wow. You make it sound so impressive.”

“Oh, it is.” Y/n nodded, dead serious. “So impressive that I even convinced my friend to tag along. Speaking of which…”

She turned and gestured to someone behind her. Lando was too busy fighting a ridiculous smile to process what she’d said, so when he looked up and saw some ridiculously tall, broad-shouldered, objectively good-looking guy walking over—with his arm around Y/n’s waist—he almost had an aneurysm.

“Oh,” Lando blurted out. “Who’s this?”

Y/n, completely oblivious to the way Lando’s brain was short-circuiting, beamed. “This is Ethan! We met a few months ago. He’s the one who got me into F1, actually. Can you believe I never really watched it before?”

Lando could believe it, because back when they were kids, Y/n was much more interested in Redstone contraptions than racing cars. But at the moment, the only thing his brain could focus on was the fact that Ethan—this guy—was standing way too close to her.

Lando plastered on a smile. “Ethan. Right. Nice to meet you.”

Ethan, to his credit, seemed nice enough. He reached out for a handshake, and Lando shook his hand, possibly a little too hard.

“So, you two have known each other for a while?” Ethan asked.

Lando forced a laugh. “Oh yeah. Since we were kids. She used to kick my ass in every game we played.”

Y/n laughed. “Still would, if you ever picked up a controller again.”

Lando opened his mouth to say something smug in response, but then Ethan did the unthinkable.

He leaned down and kissed Y/n’s temple.

Lando’s brain completely flatlined.

Nope. No. Absolutely not.

This was a disaster. A catastrophe. A red flag moment.

Because surely—surely—Y/n wouldn’t have just shown up looking like a walking dream, obliterated Lando’s ability to form coherent thoughts, and then casually introduced him to her boyfriend. Right?

Right???

Y/n, still blissfully unaware of Lando’s inner turmoil, looked up at Ethan with an affectionate smile. “I was just telling Lando how you got me into F1.”

Ethan grinned. “Yeah, took some convincing, but once she saw a few races, she was hooked.”

Lando wanted to argue that he had been talking about F1 for years, but apparently, it had taken Ethan to get her interested? Unbelievable.

Oscar, who had been standing off to the side watching this unfold like it was a Netflix drama, finally decided to intervene. “Well, Y/n, since you’re here, you should let Lando show you around the paddock.”

Lando shot him a look that said Are you kidding me?

Oscar just smiled.

Y/n’s face lit up. “That would be amazing!” She turned to Ethan. “What do you think?”

Ethan nodded. “Go for it. I’ll grab us some drinks and meet you later.”

Lando’s stomach twisted uncomfortably, but he pushed it down. He wasn’t jealous. He refused to be jealous.

Because Y/n was his best friend. That’s all.

Even if she looked like that now.

Even if her laugh made his heart do stupid things.

Even if he kind of, sort of, really wanted to be the one kissing her temple instead.

Yeah.

Lando was so screwed.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Toto’s Guard Dog – Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Word count: 411

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Summary: Y/n’s relentless war against The Hobbit reaches new heights

________________________________________________________

Y/n was in trouble.

Not with Christian Horner—because please, when was she ever worried about him? No, her problem was Toto Wolff. Specifically, the way he’d looked at her after calling her good girl and then just walked away like he hadn’t single-handedly sent her into a crisis.

It had been a week since that moment, and she still hadn’t recovered.

Every time he passed by, every time his hand lingered on her lower back in the garage, every time he so much as smirked in her direction, her brain betrayed her with thoughts.

And to make matters worse, everyone had noticed.

“She’s malfunctioning,” Lewis whispered to George one afternoon, watching Y/n freeze like a deer in headlights as Toto adjusted his watch, his shirt sleeve rolling up just enough to reveal his forearms.

“She’s down bad,” George whispered back.

“I am not,” Y/n hissed.

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “You just dropped your phone in your coffee.”

Y/n looked down. Her phone was indeed floating in her coffee.

Shit.

Meanwhile, Horner was still running his mouth.

“She’s obsessed with me,” he said in an interview, smug as ever. “I don’t know what her deal is. Maybe she wishes she was in the Red Bull garage instead.”

That was the last straw.

Y/n stormed onto Twitter.

“The Hobbit thinking I want to be in his garage is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. Bro, I don’t even want to be in the same country as him.”

It didn’t stop there.

During the next race weekend, she made a show of spraying perfume around the Mercedes hospitality suite before a press conference. When someone asked what she was doing, she sighed dramatically.

“Christian walked by earlier,” she said. “Trying to get the stench out.”

The clip went viral in minutes.

By the time the press conference started, Max was crying from laughter, Lando could barely contain himself, and Charles—sweet, diplomatic Charles—hid his face in his hands, shaking his head.

And Toto?

Toto just sat there, arms crossed, watching Y/n with a smirk like she was his favorite show.

That night, Y/n was going through her mentions when she got a text.

Toto: You know, it’s starting to look like you’re obsessed with me instead.

Her breath hitched.

She stared at her phone. Then—

Y/n: Maybe I am.

…

…

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

And finally—

Toto: Good girl.

Y/n dropped her phone.

Again.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Still Here

Word count: 339

Pairing: George Russel x reader

Summary: After waking from a terrifying nightmare where she loses George in a crash, Y/n is shaken.

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Y/n shot up in bed, heart pounding, her skin damp with cold sweat. The remnants of her nightmare still clung to her mind—screeching tires, the deafening crunch of metal, the panicked voices calling his name. George.

She turned, her breath catching as she saw him lying peacefully beside her, his chest rising and falling in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He was here. He was safe.

But the fear didn’t leave her.

A shaky breath escaped her lips as she reached for him, her fingers brushing over his shoulder. At her touch, George stirred, blinking sleepily before his gaze sharpened on her face. “Y/n? What’s wrong?” His voice was thick with sleep but laced with concern.

“I—” Her throat tightened, the words tangling with the lingering dread. “I had a nightmare. About you. The car… the crash… I lost you.”

His brows furrowed as he sat up, his arms immediately pulling her into his warmth. “Hey, hey,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’m right here, love. I’m okay.”

She buried her face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him, grounding herself in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “It felt so real,” she whispered.

George tightened his embrace, his fingers threading through her hair. “I know, darling. But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned back slightly, tilting her chin up so she could meet his soft, blue eyes. “You’re stuck with me, I promise.”

A shaky laugh bubbled past her lips, and he smiled, pressing his forehead against hers. “Come here,” he whispered, guiding her back down with him.

Tangled together beneath the sheets, George traced soothing circles on her back, murmuring quiet reassurances until the weight of sleep pulled her under once more—safe in his arms, where he would always be.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

WAG Bootcamp

Word count: 767

Pairing: lando Norris x reader, but mostly just Y/n and the WAGs

Summary: Y/n, Lando Norris’ new girlfriend, attends her first F1 race and is swiftly taken under the wing of the WAGs, who teach her the unspoken rules of f1

________________________________________________________

Y/n had been to big events before. Red carpets, premieres, and fashion weeks—she could handle a camera flash like a pro. But standing at the entrance of the paddock for her first-ever Formula 1 race, wearing her McLaren pass around her neck, she felt completely out of her depth.

The world of F1 wasn’t just about fast cars; it was about politics, strategy, and—most terrifyingly—the WAGs.

Lando had kissed her goodbye at the hospitality entrance, promising to see her after FP1, and that was when she was ambushed.

“Alright, rookie,” Kika, Pierre Gasly’s girlfriend, looped an arm through hers, her honey-blonde hair bouncing as she steered Y/n toward a private table in the paddock. “Time for bootcamp.”

“Bootcamp?” Y/n repeated, feeling a bit like a deer in the headlights.

“You think you can just waltz in here and be a proper F1 girlfriend without guidance?” Lily, Alex Albon’s girlfriend, teased, sliding into a seat with a knowing smirk. “No, sweetheart, it doesn’t work like that.”

“You’re lucky,” Alex, Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend, added. “Not everyone gets the full WAG orientation on their first weekend. Usually, we just let them suffer.”

Y/n blinked. “Should I be scared?”

Rebecca, Carlos Sainz’s girlfriend, gave her an encouraging pat on the back. “Yes.”

Lesson One: Pre-Race Preparation

“You need to know how to handle Lando before a race,” Carmen, George Russell’s girlfriend, started, flipping her sunglasses onto her head. “Every driver has their own pre-race routine. If you mess it up, congratulations—you’re the reason he finishes P12.”

“Wait—what?” Y/n’s eyes widened. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Not really,” Kelly, Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, said with a shrug. “Just don’t be annoying. Keep the energy calm, don’t talk too much, and if he’s in the zone, let him stay there.”

Kika nodded. “Pierre needs hype. So I tell him he’s the best, kiss him, and send him off like a gladiator into battle. Meanwhile, Lily literally has to trick Alex into thinking racing is just a fun little game so he doesn’t overthink.”

Lily grinned. “I gaslight him into thinking it’s no big deal. Works like a charm.”

“Susie?” Y/n turned to Susie Wolff, the ultimate WAG and wife of Toto Wolff. If anyone knew how to manage an F1 man, it was her.

Susie sipped her espresso like a woman who had seen it all. “Toto is different. He’s not the one in the car, but believe me, he’s more dramatic than any of the drivers.” She sighed. “My advice? Just make sure Lando doesn’t forget to eat.”

“Got it. No messing with his pre-race mood, gaslight if necessary, and make sure he eats,” Y/n recapped. “I can do that.”

Lesson Two: Media Management

“Now, the media,” Alex said, leaning in. “You’re dating Lando. People will analyze everything you do. What you wear, how you look at him, whether or not you smiled when he crossed the finish line.”

“You need to learn the ‘paddock girlfriend’ face,” Kelly instructed. “Not too excited, not too miserable—just engaged enough to look like you care, but also mysterious.”

Lily demonstrated, tilting her head slightly and pressing her lips together in the perfect neutral expression.

Y/n tried to mimic her but ended up looking mildly constipated.

“We’ll work on it,” Carmen assured her.

“And social media,” Rebecca added. “Fans will stalk every post, every like. If you breathe near another driver, they’ll start a conspiracy theory that you’re cheating.”

Y/n groaned. “Oh, fantastic.”

“Just own it,” Kika advised. “If they start a rumor, make it worse. That’s what I do.”

Lesson Three: Surviving the Race

“You are now a part of the emotional rollercoaster that is watching your boyfriend risk his life at 300 km/h,” Susie said with a knowing look. “You will feel stress, anxiety, and possibly rage.”

“If someone crashes into Lando, you are obligated to hate that driver for at least two weeks,” Kelly informed her.

“And you need a coping strategy,” Rebecca added. “I stress-eat.”

“I online shop,” Alex said.

“I start manifesting,” Lily said dramatically.

“I drink,” Kika said, holding up a glass of champagne.

Y/n exhaled. “This sport is insane.”

The women all nodded in agreement.

As the session wrapped up, Y/n felt a new sense of confidence. Maybe she wasn’t fully prepared yet, but she had an elite team of WAGs ready to guide her through the chaos.

Just then, her phone buzzed. A message from Lando: How’s your first F1 day going?

She smiled, typing back: I think I just joined a secret society.

And so, the newest recruit of the WAG Bootcamp was officially initiated.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Toto’s Guard Dog

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Word count: 617

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Summary: Y/n L/n may not be Toto Wolff’s wife, but she acts like it—relentlessly dragging Christian Horner in press conferences, social media, and the paddock itself.

________________________________________________________

Y/n L/n didn’t wake up every morning thinking about Christian Horner. In fact, she would have gone her whole life without giving him a second thought if he had just kept Toto’s name out of his mouth.

But he hadn’t.

And now? Now he was her mortal enemy.

It had started with an interview. Some offhanded comment from Horner about how “Toto likes to play the victim” after a heated team principals’ meeting. Y/n had been sitting in her usual spot at the Mercedes garage, sipping her coffee, scrolling through Twitter, when she saw the quote plastered everywhere.

Her jaw clenched. Her fingers twitched. And before she even realized what she was doing, she was firing off a tweet:

“Imagine talking this much when your wife’s the only reason you’re still relevant. Couldn’t be me.”

The internet lost its mind.

The paddock lost its mind.

Toto, casually checking his phone before a meeting, raised an eyebrow at the notification and smirked.

But that was only the beginning.

It became a running theme. Y/n, always lingering in the paddock, always nearby when Christian Horner had something to say, always ready with a perfectly timed eyeroll or a scathing remark just loud enough to be heard.

When he walked by, she hummed idiot under her breath.

When he spoke in press conferences, she made exaggerated snoring noises from the back.

When he talked about Mercedes “struggling,” she posted an Instagram story of her sipping champagne in the garage with the caption:

“I’d rather struggle with Toto than thrive with The Hobbit.”

Because that’s what she called him.

The Hobbit.

It caught on faster than she expected. Soon enough, whenever anyone in the paddock mentioned “The Hobbit,” they weren’t talking about Tolkien.

“Did you see The Hobbit’s latest interview?”

“The Hobbit looked pissed today.”

“Oh my god, The Hobbit and Y/n were at it again.”

The next escalation came during a press conference.

She was standing just off-camera, waiting for Toto to finish up when a reporter directed a question at Horner.

“Christian, there’s been a lot of back and forth between you and Toto this season. Do you think the rivalry has reached a new level?”

Horner smirked. “I think Toto spends more time worrying about Red Bull than his own team. Maybe if he focused more on Mercedes, they wouldn’t be struggling so much.”

Y/n didn’t even think.

“Loud for someone who’s been in the FIA’s office every other week,” she muttered.

The microphone picked it up.

Horner’s head snapped toward her. “Excuse me?”

She put on her sweetest smile. “Oh, was I not supposed to say that out loud?”

The room went feral. Lando nearly choked on his water. Max ducked his head, biting his lip to hide his grin. Even Charles, ever the neutral party, looked delighted.

Toto?

Toto leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, smirking like a man thoroughly entertained.

“You do know you don’t have to fight my battles, right?” he said later, when they were back at the garage.

Y/n scoffed. “Who else is gonna do it? You’re too classy. Someone’s gotta put that man in his place.”

Toto chuckled, looking her up and down. “And you’ve decided that someone is you?”

“Obviously.” She tossed her hair. “You can’t get rid of me now, boss. I’m your guard dog.”

Something flickered in Toto’s gaze. Amusement, sure. But also something darker, something she couldn’t quite place.

His voice dropped, just slightly. “Good girl.”

Y/n blinked.

Her brain short-circuited.

And Toto?

Toto just smirked and walked away, leaving her standing there, stunned, heart racing, very much aware that she was in so much trouble.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

My request for the f1 drivers and team principles are open

Don’t be shy give me some inspiration please☺️

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Ultimate Glow-Up

Part 2

Word count: 559

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Y/n was Lando’s childhood best friend who used to have braces, bad bangs, and a deep love for Minecraft. Years later, she shows up at a Grand Prix looking stunning.

________________________________________________________

Lando Norris had seen a lot of shocking things in his life.

He’d seen Max Verstappen drive an entire race with a broken car and still win.

He’d seen Daniel Ricciardo shotgun a shoey without flinching.

He’d even seen his own pit crew change all four tires in under two seconds.

But none of that compared to the absolute whiplash he experienced when he saw her.

“Mate, are you okay?” Oscar’s voice barely registered in his ears as Lando stood frozen in the McLaren hospitality. His drink was halfway to his lips, forgotten, while his jaw quite literally dropped. His eyes were wide, nearly cartoonish, as his brain short-circuited.

Because Y/n—his Y/n—his childhood best friend, his former Minecraft-building buddy, his partner-in-crime during their gangly, brace-faced, awkward teenage years—was walking toward him looking like that.

What the hell.

Gone were the crooked bangs she had once cut herself in his bathroom mirror. Gone was the oversized creeper hoodie she practically lived in from ages twelve to sixteen. Instead, she looked… elegant? Effortlessly hot? Her hair was all glossy and perfect, she had an easy confidence in her stride, and—was that eyeliner?!

Lando gulped. His fingers twitched around his drink. This was bad.

He wasn’t sure what was worse—the fact that she looked this good or the fact that she seemed completely unaware of it.

“Lando!” Y/n’s voice cut through his existential crisis, bright and familiar as ever. Her face lit up when she saw him, and before he could even react, she threw her arms around him in a hug.

Okay. Cool. No big deal. Just his childhood best friend pressing against him like it was nothing. Just normal, casual, totally platonic best friend behavior.

Lando did not freak out. He did not inhale her perfume like a total weirdo. And he definitely did not melt like butter in the sun.

“Y/n! Hey! Wow, uh—hey,” he sputtered as he pulled away, struggling to form actual words. He ran a hand through his curls, vaguely aware that Oscar was watching him like he was witnessing the most entertaining disaster of his life.

Y/n just grinned. “It’s been ages! I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Lando let out a laugh, slightly unhinged. She almost didn’t recognize him? That was rich.

“Yeah, uh, same,” he said, because he couldn’t just say what he was actually thinking, which was What happened? Who allowed this? Why didn’t you tell me you were going to transform into a goddess before showing up at my workplace?

She beamed. “You look exactly the same.”

Lando nearly choked on air.

“Wha—I—excuse me?” he sputtered, gesturing vaguely at her. “I look the same? Y/n, have you seen yourself?”

Her brows furrowed. “Yeah? Why?”

“Why?!” Lando’s voice cracked. “Because—because you—you’re all—” He waved his hands at her helplessly, looking to Oscar for support, but the Aussie was absolutely no help, hiding his laughter behind his hand.

Y/n, meanwhile, just looked confused. Like she genuinely had no idea what he was freaking out about.

“What?” she asked, blinking at him like he was the weirdo.

Lando opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “Nothing,” he mumbled, defeated. “You just—you look great.”

“Oh.” Y/n’s face lit up in surprise, and a faint pink dusted her cheeks. She smiled—an old, familiar smile, braces or not. “Thanks, Lan.”

Lando was so screwed.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Lando fic for this evening

(8.30 pm GMT +1)

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

You posted the same clingy fic twice ... one with a picture and another without

Ah thank you. I had problems uploading 🫣

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Clingy in Shanghai

Word count: 482

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: After Oscar wins the china gp, Y/n is overjoyed and celebrates him enthusiastically – much to the dismay of her clingy boyfriend, Lando.

________________________________________________________

The moment Oscar crossed the finish line, sealing his 1 victory in 2025, the McLaren garage erupted. Mechanics, engineers, and team staff leapt into the air, hugging and cheering. I was already on my feet, hands clapping furiously, a wide grin splitting my face.

“He did it!” I shouted, turning to the group of people around me. Everyone was ecstatic.

Oscar had driven a perfect race, and I couldn’t contain my excitement. As soon as he pulled into parc fermé, I rushed down with the rest of the team, my phone in hand to capture the celebrations.

“Oscar!” I called when he climbed out of the car, his face still half-hidden behind his helmet. He barely had time to process it all before mechanics swarmed him, patting his back and congratulating him.

When he finally removed his helmet, his wide-eyed, stunned expression made me laugh. “You bloody legend!” I cheered, pulling him into a quick hug. “First win in 2025, Oz! This is insane!”

Oscar chuckled, breathless. “I know! I can’t believe it either!”

The cameras were everywhere, capturing every moment. I stepped aside as Zak Brown came in for a massive hug, letting Oscar soak in his well-deserved celebration. But as I turned back toward the McLaren garage, I was met with a familiar sight—Lando, standing a few feet away, his arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed.

Oh no.

I could practically hear the dramatic music playing in his head.

I made my way toward him, but before I could say anything, he opened his arms expectantly. “So, where’s my hug, then?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t fight my smile. “Lando—”

“You ran straight to Oscar,” he whined, stepping closer until he could loop his arms around my waist. “Didn’t even look at me. Your boyfriend.”

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. “Because he won the race, babe. You do get that, right?”

“I get that.” His lips pressed into a pout. “But what if I needed emotional support?”

“For what?” I teased. “You finished P2. That’s still an amazing result!”

Lando buried his face in my neck, mumbling something unintelligible.

“What was that?” I asked, running a hand through his sweaty curls.

“I said,” he pulled back just enough to look at me, his blue eyes unbearably soft, “I just wanted to be the one you hugged first.”

My heart melted on the spot. I groaned, resting my forehead against his. “God, you’re so clingy.”

“You love it,” he murmured, his nose brushing against mine.

“Unfortunately, yeah, I do.” I sighed dramatically before kissing him, my hands cupping his cheeks. He smiled against my lips, and I felt the tension in his body ease immediately.

“Better?” I asked.

“Much.”

“Good. Now, let’s go celebrate Oscar’s win.”

Lando groaned but let me drag him along. “Fine, but I get at least five more kisses before the party starts.”

I laughed. “Deal.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

“Not Just a Pretty Face” – Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Word count: 847

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: After Lando apologizes, Y/n challenges him to a karting race to prove herself, nearly beating him, which leads to a “not-a-date” dinner

________________________________________________________

Lando didn’t expect you to forgive him immediately, but he hoped you would at least stop looking at him like he was an idiot.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t happening just yet.

“Alright,” you said after a long pause, crossing your arms. “Apology accepted—for now. But words are easy. If you really want to prove you’re not an ass, you’ll have to work for it.”

Lando smirked. “Work for it, huh? What, you want me to let you beat me in a go-kart race?”

Your grandpa laughed, clearly enjoying the interaction. “Oh, you wouldn’t have to let her win, boy. She’s been racing karts since she was a kid.”

Lando’s grin faltered. “Wait, what?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “I told you—I know my F1. Did you think I only watched? My grandpa took me to karting tracks all the time when I was younger.”

Lando stared at you, processing this new piece of information. He had really underestimated you.

“Alright,” he said, narrowing his eyes playfully. “Kart race. You and me. Loser buys dinner.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a date, Norris.”

His brain short-circuited for a second.

Your grandpa patted Lando’s shoulder before walking off. “Good luck, boy. You’re gonna need it.”

Lando’s Not-So-Flawless Redemption Plan

Later that evening, the two of you found yourselves at a private karting track, helmets in hand. Lando had pulled some strings to make it happen, and to his horror, you actually looked comfortable in the kart.

“I can’t believe I’m about to race an influencer,” he muttered.

You smirked. “I can’t believe you still think that’s an insult.”

And with that, you were off.

To say Lando was shocked was an understatement. You weren’t just good—you were fast. Aggressive in the corners, smooth on the straights, and completely fearless. For the first few laps, he had to actually try to keep up with you.

By the time the race ended, you were barely a second behind him.

“You almost beat me,” Lando said breathlessly as you both pulled off your helmets. “Where the hell did you learn to drive like that?”

You tossed your hair over your shoulder, looking smug. “Told you. My grandpa raised me right.”

Lando shook his head, grinning. He couldn’t believe it. He had come into this thinking you were just another influencer, but now? You were an absolute mystery—one he really wanted to figure out.

“So,” he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “Dinner’s on you, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t move away. “Fine. But don’t think this means I like you, Norris.”

Lando just smiled. “Give it time.”

Dinner wasn’t technically a date.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you sat across from Lando at a quiet restaurant near the harbor, sipping on a glass of wine while he smirked at you over his burger.

“You keep looking at me like that,” you teased, “and I’ll start thinking you have a crush on me.”

Lando nearly choked on his drink. “I—I do not have a crush on you.”

“Uh-huh.” You leaned back, crossing your legs. “Then why did you stalk my Instagram after I humiliated you in front of your team?”

He groaned, running a hand through his curls. “I didn’t stalk you. I just… checked a few posts. For research.”

“Right. Research.” You smirked. “And what did you learn?”

Lando hesitated, then leaned forward slightly. “That you’re way more interesting than I thought.”

Your breath hitched for just a second, but you masked it with a sip of wine.

“You don’t meet a lot of women who can talk about tire degradation and still look good in a designer dress,” he added, a playful glint in his eye.

You tilted your head. “Is that your way of flirting? Because you need to try harder, Norris.”

He grinned. “Oh, I love a challenge.”

A Not-So-Subtle Change

After that night, something shifted.

Lando was… everywhere.

At the paddock, he always seemed to be nearby, flashing you a grin as he walked past. When you posted a story, he was one of the first people to view it. And when your grandpa casually mentioned that he wanted to visit the Ferrari garage, Lando somehow arranged it before you even had the chance to ask.

“You know he’s flirting with you, right?” your grandpa muttered as you both watched Lando laughing with Charles Leclerc near the McLaren garage.

You scoffed. “He’s just trying to redeem himself.”

Your grandpa gave you a look. “You keep telling yourself that, Schatz.”

Lando’s Next Move

That night, as you scrolled through your phone in your hotel room, a message popped up.

Lando Norris: Fancy another race? This time, I promise not to underestimate you.

You smirked.

You: What’s in it for me?

Three dots appeared, then disappeared.

Lando Norris: Winner picks the next dinner spot. Loser pays.

You bit your lip, thinking.

You: So another date, then?

This time, the three dots hovered for longer.

Lando Norris: …Maybe.

You laughed, shaking your head.

Maybe, huh?

This was getting interesting.

@woderfulkawaii @freyathehuntress @anayaverse

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

This Wasn’t in the Contract

Word Count: 1,6k

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: When a gossip account claims Lando Norris has a secret girlfriend, he jokingly confirms it—except he names you, his childhood best friend, as his mysterious partner. Now, you’re stuck fake-dating the most unserious man on the grid.

________________________________________________________

Chapter 1: A Joke Gone Too Far

You weren’t the type to start your day by checking celebrity gossip, but apparently, you should have been.

Because if you had, maybe you wouldn’t have woken up to 237 unread messages and a phone call from your mother screaming, “HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME YOU’RE DATING LANDO?!”

“…What?” Your brain was still booting up, barely processing her words as you squinted at the sunlight streaming through your blinds.

“Don’t play dumb! It’s all over Twitter! ‘Lando Norris soft-launches secret girlfriend!’”

That got your attention. You bolted upright, nearly knocking your laptop off the bed. “Lando did what?”

“I don’t know, you tell me! Did you think I wouldn’t find out? The neighbors are texting me about it! The neighbors!”

You barely heard her as you scrolled through your phone, your heart pounding. Sure enough, there it was—a blurry paparazzi photo of Lando, looking suspiciously happy as he walked through Monaco. The caption?

Lando Norris spotted out with mystery girlfriend. Who is she?

Well, it’s not me, that’s for sure.

But the real problem wasn’t the article. No, the problem was the Twitter chaos that followed.

@F1TeaSpill: Lando Norris has a secret girlfriend… my life is over.

@WAGwatch: McLaren’s golden boy is TAKEN. The girl remains unknown, but sources say they’ve been dating for months.

And then, the worst part.

A verified tweet from Lando himself.

@LandoNorris: Fine, you caught me. It’s Y/n. We wanted to keep it private, but oh well.

You stared at the screen in horror.

“…I’m going to kill him.”

Your mom gasped. “I knew you were dating! My baby girl is in love!”

You hung up.

________________________________________________________

Chapter 2: How to Accidentally Get a Girlfriend

It took exactly four angry phone calls and one very aggressive Uber ride to track Lando down at his apartment. The second he opened the door, you shoved your phone in his face.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Lando blinked at you, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He was still in his pajamas—a McLaren hoodie and boxers, because of course he was. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

You ignored him, scrolling aggressively through Twitter. “Did you—did you seriously just announce to the entire world that we’re dating?!”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Okay, so, hear me out—”

“No.”

“—I thought it would be funny.”

You took a deep breath. Counted to five. “You thought it would be funny?”

“In my defense, it was funny.”

You smacked his arm. “Lando!”

“OW—okay, okay, look!” He took a step back, holding up his hands. “There was this dumb article saying I had a secret girlfriend, and people wouldn’t shut up about it. So I thought, why not have a little fun? I didn’t think people would actually believe me!”

You stared at him, unamused. “Lando. You have millions of followers. Of course they believed you!”

“…Oh.”

“Oh?”

He winced. “I mean… in hindsight, yeah, that makes sense.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “This is so bad. My mom thinks it’s real. People are probably stalking my Instagram as we speak!”

Lando hesitated. “So… what if we just roll with it?”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He grinned, that signature cheeky smile that meant he was about to say something very stupid. “Think about it! We fake date for a while, mess with the media, then ‘break up’ later. It’s the perfect plan.”

You scoffed. “Perfect for who?”

“Both of us!” He threw an arm around your shoulders, ignoring the way you stiffened. “You get clout, I get people off my back about my dating life, and—bonus!—we get to mess with the internet. Win-win-win.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. “That’s literally the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“…But?”

“…But it would be kinda funny.”

He gasped. “So you’ll do it?”

You sighed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but fine. One month. That’s it.”

Lando beamed. “Deal. Now, let’s get to work.

You frowned. “Work?”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Time for our first ‘couple’ Instagram post.”

You were already regretting this.

________________________________________________________

Chapter 3: The ‘Soft Launch’ Debacle

If someone had told you that by noon, you’d be sitting on Lando’s couch with him hovering over you, analyzing potential Instagram captions for your fake couple post, you would have laughed in their face.

Yet, here you were.

“This one’s good,” Lando said, showing you his phone.

You squinted at it. ‘My ride or die. ❤️’

“No,” you said flatly.

He pouted. “Why not? It’s cute!”

“It’s cringe.”

Lando rolled his eyes, flopping onto the couch beside you. “Fine. What about—‘Finally caught myself a podium-worthy girl’?”

You stared at him. “Lando.”

“Yes, love?”

“Shut up.”

He burst into laughter, nearly falling off the couch. “Come on, Y/n, help me out here! We need to be convincing.”

You sighed. “Can’t we just post a normal picture?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p.’ “We need romance. We need passion.”

“We need therapy,” you muttered.

But you gave in. Because somehow, against all logic, you’d agreed to this stupid fake-dating scheme. You allowed Lando to take a selfie of the two of you, his arm slung around your shoulders, his grin wide and cheeky while you tried not to look like you wanted to strangle him.

Fifteen minutes later, it was live.

@LandoNorris: She said yes. ❤️

“…Lando,” you said slowly.

“Hmm?”

“This makes it sound like we’re engaged.”

“Oops.”

“Oops?!”

But it was too late. Twitter had already exploded.

@F1GossipGirl: WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE SAID YES??

@McLarenFan4Life: Engaged. ENGAGED. I need a moment.

@Y/nDefender: okay but if y/n makes him less of a menace on the track i support it

You groaned. “You suck.”

Lando, completely unbothered, smirked. “Oh, fiancée, you wound me.”

You were going to kill him.

________________________________________________________

Chapter 4: McLaren is Concerned

The next day, you made a mistake.

You agreed to physically show up at McLaren’s HQ with Lando.

You should have known it was a bad idea when, the second you stepped inside, his PR manager spotted you and immediately looked stressed.

“Lando.” The poor man looked like he hadn’t slept since 2018. “Care to explain?”

Lando, ever the picture of innocence, grinned. “Explain what?”

The PR manager sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The engagement. The internet meltdown. The sponsorship offers from wedding brands.”

You choked. “Wait—what?”

Lando just laughed. “People love love, mate.”

The PR manager turned to you, exasperated. “Are you really engaged?”

You opened your mouth to deny it—

“She doesn’t like labels,” Lando cut in smoothly, throwing an arm around your waist.

You resisted the urge to shove him into a wall.

“…Right.” The PR manager didn’t look convinced. “Well, just… keep it under control, okay? We don’t need another Daniel Ricciardo social media incident.”

You weren’t sure what that meant, but judging by the way Lando immediately sobered up, it was serious.

“Got it,” Lando said, suddenly obedient.

You made a mental note to ask Daniel about that later.

________________________________________________________

Chapter 5: Paparazzi and Near-Death Experiences

Two weeks into the fake-dating scheme, things escalated.

First, the paparazzi started following you everywhere. Which was fine—except for the fact that Lando used this as an opportunity to be an absolute menace.

“Y/n, darling,” he said loudly one day outside a café, dramatically pulling you into a dip like you were in a bad rom-com.

You struggled in his grip. “Put me down before I punch you.”

“Ah, my sweet, violent love,” he sighed.

The cameras loved it.

Then, there was the incident with the McLaren team barbecue.

The entire grid had been invited, which meant you were subjected to hours of hearing Max and Charles tease Lando about his ‘wife.’

“She must be an angel to put up with you,” Max had joked, sipping his drink.

“I’m a delight,” Lando shot back.

You, meanwhile, were trying very hard not to blush when Charles leaned over and whispered, “I think he actually likes you.”

Which was ridiculous. Obviously. Right?

Right.

(Then Lando draped his jacket over you later that night when it got cold, and you started questioning everything.)

________________________________________________________

Chapter 6: The Fake Breakup Plan

By the third week, you and Lando had a problem.

Your parents—who had never once taken anything you did on the internet seriously—fully believed you were dating.

Which wouldn’t have been a big deal, except now your entire family wanted to meet Lando.

“My mom keeps asking if we’re doing a destination wedding,” you hissed one evening, pacing around Lando’s apartment.

He snorted. “Tell her I’m thinking Monaco.”

“Lando, focus!”

He grinned. “Relax. We’ll just fake a breakup.”

You paused. “…How?”

“Easy.” He leaned back, stretching. “I’ll cheat on you.”

You nearly choked on air. “Excuse me?!”

“Not really,” he said, rolling his eyes. “We’ll stage something. Maybe I get ‘caught’ with a model or something.”

You frowned. “…We could just say we broke up because we realized we’re better as friends.”

He stared at you. “Where’s the drama in that?”

“You love drama.”

“I live for it,” he agreed.

You groaned. “Fine. But no cheating scandal. We’ll figure something else out.”

Lando pouted. “Boring.”

You ignored him, but deep down, a tiny part of you was unreasonably annoyed at the thought of him fake-dating someone else.

Which was dumb. Because this wasn’t real.

Right?

Right.

…Shit.

________________________________________________________

Chapter 7: When Fake Starts Feeling Real

Somewhere along the line, you stopped noticing when Lando reached for your hand in public.

You stopped flinching when he casually draped an arm around your shoulders.

And you definitely didn’t mind when he pulled you into his side during movie nights, letting you steal his hoodie like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It was fake. You knew that.

But then, one night, he looked at you—really looked at you—and said softly, “You know, I think I’d actually marry you.”

And for the first time, you didn’t have a comeback.