fanfictionismyaddiction

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Hi, could you please write about how Lando finds out that the reader really likes cats, and how he tries to come to terms with it (remember that video where he says that if a person doesn't like dogs but also likes cats it's a red flag).

A Pawful Revelation

Word count: 922

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

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It started innocently enough. You and Lando were scrolling through your phones one lazy afternoon, each sprawled on opposite ends of his massive couch. The only sound in the room was the faint hum of a race replay on the TV and the occasional flick of your nails on the glass screen.

Lando suddenly perked up, his attention snagged by an adorable video of a Golden Retriever puppy wagging its tail enthusiastically.

“Look at this little guy!” he exclaimed, shoving his phone toward you.

You glanced up from your screen, smiling. “Aww, he’s cute,” you said, but you didn’t look as enthusiastic as Lando clearly wanted you to be. He frowned slightly but didn’t press it.

A moment later, you bit your lip to suppress a smile as you scrolled further down your own feed.

“Why are you grinning like that?” Lando asked, craning his neck to look at your phone.

“Oh, no reason,” you said, too quickly.

“Let me see.”

Before you could stop him, Lando snatched your phone and squinted at the screen. His face twisted into a mixture of amusement and betrayal as he saw the source of your delight: a compilation of cats knocking objects off tables with utter disdain.

“Cats?” he asked, his tone laced with disbelief.

“What about them?” you asked innocently, snatching your phone back.

“You… like cats?” he asked, narrowing his eyes like you’d just told him you secretly supported his rival team.

“Of course I do,” you replied, laughing. “They’re hilarious and cute!”

Lando leaned back on the couch, folding his arms as he stared at you, processing this revelation. “Wait, wait. You mean like, really like cats?”

You nodded. “Yeah, they’re amazing. So independent, so sassy. I’ve always loved them.”

He groaned, running a hand through his messy curls. “You’re telling me you’re a cat person?”

“Why do you say it like I just confessed to a crime?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because it’s a red flag!” Lando said, throwing his hands up dramatically.

You laughed so hard you nearly dropped your phone. “Oh, come on, Lando. Are you seriously judging me for liking cats? You like dogs; I like cats. It’s not that deep.”

“But it is!” he insisted, leaning toward you, his tone half-joking but with a hint of genuine worry. “Dogs are loyal, happy, and full of love. Cats are… evil. They scratch you for no reason and knock your stuff over just to annoy you!”

You rolled your eyes. “Cats are misunderstood. They’re affectionate, but on their own terms. They’re like the cool kids of the pet world.”

Lando shook his head, still looking troubled. “I don’t know if I can trust someone who prefers cats over dogs.”

“Oh, please,” you said, giving him a playful shove. “You’re being ridiculous. Besides, I didn’t say I don’t like dogs. I just like cats more.”

“That’s worse!” he exclaimed, pretending to clutch his chest.

You laughed again, but you could tell he was genuinely grappling with this newfound information about you.

Over the next few days, Lando seemed determined to convince you that dogs were superior. He sent you countless videos of puppies doing adorable things, from catching Frisbees to snuggling with their owners. He even tried to recruit his fans into the debate by posting a poll on Instagram: Cats or Dogs?

Despite his efforts, your love for cats remained unwavering. In fact, you doubled down, texting him memes of cats in silly hats and videos of them performing acrobatics.

One day, he showed up at your apartment with a smug grin and a small gift bag.

“What’s this?” you asked, taking the bag from him.

“Just a little something to change your mind,” he said, flopping onto your couch with an air of confidence.

Inside the bag was a pair of socks covered in cartoon dogs and a plush Golden Retriever toy.

“Really, Lando?” you said, holding up the socks.

“What? I’m trying to save you from a life of bad decisions,” he said, grinning.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re ridiculous.”

The real test came a week later when you convinced Lando to visit a cat café with you. He was reluctant at first, muttering about how he’d probably leave covered in scratches. But when he saw how excited you were, he couldn’t say no.

As soon as you entered, a fluffy gray cat sauntered over to you, meowing softly. Your face lit up as you crouched down to pet it.

Lando watched from a distance, arms crossed, trying to look unimpressed. But then a tiny orange kitten climbed onto his lap, purring loudly.

“Uh, what do I do?” he asked, looking slightly panicked.

“Just pet him,” you said, smiling.

Hesitantly, Lando stroked the kitten’s soft fur. The kitten responded by curling up and falling asleep on his lap.

For a moment, Lando looked conflicted, but then a small smile crept onto his face.

“See?” you said, sitting beside him. “Cats aren’t so bad.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, trying to hide his grin. “This one’s alright, I guess.”

By the time you left the café, Lando had a newfound appreciation for cats. While he still insisted that dogs were better, he grudgingly admitted that cats weren’t the villains he’d made them out to be.

And as you walked back to the car, he slipped his hand into yours and said, “Okay, fine. Maybe I can tolerate your cat obsession. But only because it’s you.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

You asked for reqs so Im here to yap! How about Mycroft from Sherlock having a gf that is constantly overthinking if he actually likes her(if he is with her for some reason where he can take advantage of her later, even tho as far as she knows, she has no connection to anything political that he can use. She still can't stop thinking about it tho.)

Him comforting her awkwardly bc he literally can't say any affirming words coherently, just actions that you'd have to look for under a microscope to notice, but they are there! He does let her brew and feel bad for quite some time unintentionally because he is very avoidant of emotional confrontations tho🥹

Do feel free to ignore this if it isn't your cup of tea! Mwah💋

An Affair of Logic and Love

Word count: 1k

Pairing: Mycroft x reader

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Mycroft Holmes wasn’t a man of romance. That much was obvious to anyone who knew him. Reserved, calculating, and perpetually aloof, he approached the world as a chessboard, his every move measured, every relationship dissected for utility. Yet here he was, seated across from you at his immaculate dining table, sipping his tea as if nothing in the world could rattle him.

And here you were, trying to decipher his every blink, every sigh, every sip.

You glanced at him cautiously. Did he even like you? Or was there some hidden reason—a grand strategy that somehow involved you, though you couldn’t imagine how? You were an ordinary person, far removed from the tangled webs of politics and espionage he navigated daily. What could he possibly gain from being with you?

These thoughts gnawed at you, louder with each interaction, until every small silence felt like proof that you were merely a pawn in his game.

“You’re staring,” Mycroft said without looking up from his tea.

Your cheeks flushed. “I’m not.”

“You are,” he replied smoothly, setting his cup down. His piercing gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

You fumbled for a distraction, taking a sip of your tea and nearly scalding your tongue. “I was just… thinking.”

“Thinking, I see.” He folded his hands and leaned back slightly. “Should I be concerned?”

You hesitated. Part of you wanted to confront him, to demand why he was with you if he could barely muster a word of affection. But the other part—the overthinking, self-doubting part—was too afraid of his answer. What if he confirmed your fears?

“No,” you muttered, looking down at your cup.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. But true to form, he didn’t press the matter. Instead, he let the silence stretch, leaving you alone with your spiraling thoughts.

For the next several days, the doubts consumed you. Every interaction became a puzzle to solve:

• When he handed you a cup of tea without a word, was it a sign of affection, or was he just being polite?

• When he mentioned your favorite book in passing, was it because he genuinely remembered, or because he needed to lull you into a false sense of security?

• When he kissed you on the cheek before leaving for work, was it out of habit or obligation?

The questions were endless, and Mycroft, in his typical manner, did nothing to alleviate them. He wasn’t cruel—far from it—but his reserved nature and avoidance of emotional discussions left you in the dark.

It all came to a head one evening when you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Mycroft,” you began hesitantly as the two of you sat in his living room, him reading a newspaper and you pretending to focus on a book.

“Yes?” he replied without looking up.

“Why are you with me?”

The question hung in the air like a thunderclap. Mycroft froze, his fingers tightening slightly around the edges of the paper.

“Pardon?” he said after a moment, his tone carefully neutral.

You set your book down and turned to face him fully. “Why are you with me? I just… I can’t help but wonder if there’s some reason—some ulterior motive—because I don’t understand why you’d choose me.”

He finally lowered the newspaper, his expression inscrutable. “Is that what’s been troubling you?”

“Yes,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I know it’s irrational, but I can’t stop thinking about it. You’re so… you. And I’m just… me. It doesn’t make sense.”

For a long moment, Mycroft said nothing. He looked at you, his sharp gaze scanning your face as if you were a particularly challenging code to crack.

Then, finally, he spoke: “I see.”

That was it. I see.

You stared at him, waiting for more, but he just shifted slightly in his seat, as if the conversation had already concluded.

“That’s all you have to say?” you asked, your frustration bubbling over.

Mycroft cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “I… hadn’t realized you felt this way.”

“Well, I do.”

He looked down at his hands, his usually unshakeable composure faltering ever so slightly. “Emotions are… not my area of expertise,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “But I assure you, my intentions are entirely genuine.”

It wasn’t the grand declaration you’d hoped for, but coming from Mycroft, it was monumental. Still, it wasn’t enough to banish your doubts entirely.

“Then why don’t you ever show it?” you pressed. “Why can’t you just say how you feel?”

Mycroft shifted again, clearly wrestling with his discomfort. “I’m not… accustomed to such expressions,” he said stiffly. “But that does not mean I don’t care for you. On the contrary, I—” He stopped, his mouth opening and closing like he was physically incapable of forming the words.

Instead, he stood abruptly and walked to his desk. You watched in confusion as he opened a drawer, pulled out a small velvet box, and returned to the couch.

He handed it to you without a word.

Inside was a delicate necklace, the pendant a simple yet elegant design that you immediately recognized—it was based on your favorite flower, something you’d mentioned in passing months ago.

“I had this made for you,” Mycroft said awkwardly, his gaze fixed firmly on the coffee table. “I was waiting for the right moment to give it to you. I suppose now will have to do.”

You stared at the necklace, your heart swelling with a mix of surprise and warmth.

“Mycroft…”

“I may not be able to express myself in the traditional sense,” he continued, his voice stiff but earnest. “But I do care for you. Deeply. If that were not the case, I wouldn’t—” He stopped himself again, sighing in frustration. “I wouldn’t have allowed this relationship to happen.”

It wasn’t a perfect confession. It wasn’t romantic or poetic. But it was Mycroft.

You smiled softly and reached out to take his hand. “Thank you,” you said, your voice thick with emotion.

He finally looked at you, his expression softening ever so slightly. “There’s nothing to thank me for,” he said gruffly.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Loosing focus

Word count: 660

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: A lazy evening at home turns heated when Y/n becomes irresistibly drawn to her boyfriend Lando, unable to ignore the tension building between them.

Warning: suggestiv

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Lando was sitting on the couch, barefoot, in a hoodie and a pair of gray sweatpants that hung just right. His curls were an absolute mess, and he had a slight scruff on his jaw, making him look even more annoyingly good. He was laughing at something on the TV, completely unaware of the fact that you hadn’t absorbed a single word of the show because your focus was entirely on him.

Every little thing about him was driving you wild tonight—the way his arm rested along the back of the couch, his stupid little dimples when he smiled, the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the warmth of his skin. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, your cheeks flushed, and the ache growing impossible to ignore.

You shifted in your spot next to him, trying to sit still, but your legs brushed against his, and it sent a jolt through your body.

“You alright there, love?” Lando asked, turning to look at you with that boyish grin of his.

“Yeah,” you said, maybe too quickly, as you crossed your legs and tried to look normal. “I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You sure? You’ve been fidgeting all night.”

You swallowed hard, biting your lip as you glanced at him, your resolve crumbling. “I’m just… distracted.”

“Distracted?” His grin widened, and he leaned closer, his face now only inches from yours. “By what?”

“By you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He blinked, caught off guard, but the smirk quickly returned. “Me? What did I do?”

“Exactly,” you huffed. “You’re just sitting there looking… like that.”

“Like what?” he teased, leaning even closer now, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Like—ugh, you’re impossible.” You grabbed a throw pillow and smacked him with it, trying to distract yourself from the way his proximity was making you feel.

But Lando wasn’t about to let it go. He caught the pillow, laughing as he tossed it aside. “You’re horny, aren’t you?”

Your eyes widened, your face heating instantly. “Lando!”

“What?” he said, feigning innocence as he leaned back, looking all too pleased with himself. “I’m just stating facts. You can’t even sit still, and now you’re blushing.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Shut up.”

“Why should I? This is great.” He scooted closer, his voice dropping slightly as he added, “You know, if you wanted me to do something about it, you could’ve just said so.”

His tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you peeked at him through your fingers. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Lando’s grin softened into something a little more serious, his hand brushing against your thigh. “Oh, I’ve got a few ideas,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Your heart skipped a beat as his hand trailed upward, his touch sending sparks through your skin. Whatever was on Netflix was long forgotten as Lando shifted, pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teased, his hands settling on your waist.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you shot back, grabbing his hoodie and pulling him in.

And for once, he did exactly what you asked.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Unshaken Loyalty

Word count: 660

Summary: After being betrayed by her best friend and abandoned by others, Y/n finds unwavering support in Lewis.

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The evening air was thick with tension as you sat on the plush sofa in Lewis Hamilton’s London apartment, your arms wrapped tightly around your knees. The glow of the city lights outside the floor-to-ceiling windows did little to comfort you, and your mind was a storm of emotions.

Your best friend—former best friend—Emilia had betrayed you in a way you hadn’t thought possible. She had not only turned on you but convinced several of your closest friends to do the same, spreading lies that painted you as someone you weren’t. People you’d trusted now gave you cold shoulders and side-eyed glances, and Emilia? She acted like she’d won some sort of twisted game.

You wiped a tear off your cheek, frustrated with yourself for still caring so much. Lewis, who had been sitting quietly beside you, finally shifted closer.

“Talk to me, love,” he said softly, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves.

You sniffled, keeping your gaze on the floor. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s hurting you.”

You hesitated before the words tumbled out in a rush. “I just don’t understand what I did wrong. Emilia was supposed to be my best friend, and now she’s turned everyone else against me. She made me feel like I was… like I wasn’t enough. Like I was just this awful person who deserved it.”

Lewis’s jaw clenched, the muscle ticking as he listened. “That’s bullshit,” he said firmly.

You blinked at him, startled by the sudden edge in his voice.

He turned to face you fully, his dark eyes burning with intensity. “Listen to me, Y/n. Whatever Emilia said, whatever those so-called ‘friends’ are saying, none of it defines who you are. You are one of the most beautiful, kind, and genuine people I’ve ever met. Anyone who can’t see that doesn’t deserve to be in your life.”

You tried to protest, but he wasn’t having it.

“No,” he said, cutting you off gently but firmly. “You don’t get to argue with me on this. Emilia? Toxic. The people who believed her? Even more toxic. And you? You’re worth a hundred of them. Do you hear me?”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from pain. “I just… I don’t know why this hurts so much. I thought she cared about me.”

Lewis reached out, taking your hands in his. His touch was warm, grounding. “Because you care, Y/n. That’s who you are. You see the good in people, even when they don’t deserve it. And yeah, that makes it hurt more when someone like Emilia betrays you. But that doesn’t mean you’re the problem. It means you’ve got a heart that’s too good for people like her.”

You let out a shaky breath, the tightness in your chest easing just a little. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he said, his voice resolute. “You’re worth fighting for, Y/n. Every single time. If I have to tell Emilia and the rest of them to piss off, I’ll do it. Hell, I’ll fight them myself if that’s what it takes to make you see how incredible you are.”

A surprised laugh bubbled out of you, and Lewis smiled, his expression softening.

“There she is,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s the smile I love.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you protectively. “Thank you,” you murmured.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ve got your back, always. You’re stuck with me, like it or not.”

The hurt Emilia had caused didn’t disappear entirely, but it felt smaller, more manageable.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

A Night to Remember

Word count: 733

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando and Y/n, are drunk on tequila

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Lando Norris was buzzing. His grin was so wide it hurt his cheeks, but he didn’t care. He’d won. He’d won! The team could have thrown a parade, and he still wouldn’t have felt like it was enough to match the high he was riding. The club was packed, the music was deafening, and he was already three—no, four?—drinks in. But none of that mattered because there she was. Y/n. His Y/n.

She was twirling on the dance floor, her arms up, her laughter louder than the music as she tried to keep balance in her heels. A glass of something bright and bubbly sloshed in her hand, half-spilling onto her dress as she spun.

“Landooo!” she shouted when she spotted him, her voice slurring as she stumbled toward him. She threw her arms around his neck with such force that he had to grab her waist to keep them both upright. “You did it! You freaking won! I told you, I knew you’d do it, you brilliant, fast little shit.”

“Little?!” Lando protested, bursting into laughter as he steadied her. His words were slow, like his brain was trying to catch up with his tongue. “I’m taller than you, you drunk menace!”

She poked his chest with a finger, squinting at him. “Barely. Barely. And don’t get cocky with me, mister world champion or whatever.”

“I’m not the world champion,” Lando corrected, dragging her toward the bar, where more drinks were already waiting for them. “But I did win today. Did I tell you I won? Like, I actually won?”

“Only like a million times.” Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled, grabbing a shot and holding it up. “To the winner of everything forever!”

Lando grabbed his shot, clinking it against hers with too much force, spilling tequila over both their hands. “To me!” he shouted, and they downed the shots at the same time, both immediately grimacing and making identical gagging sounds.

“Why is tequila so disgusting?!” Y/n groaned, clutching her stomach.

“Because we’re not supposed to drink it!” Lando howled with laughter, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Somehow, they ended up outside on the curb, the noise of the club muffled behind them. Lando was sprawled on the steps, his legs sticking out awkwardly, while Y/n sat beside him, her head tilted back to look at the stars—or what she thought were stars.

“Do you think…” she began, her words slow and drawn out, “that if I stole your trophy, anyone would notice?”

“Yes,” Lando said, leaning over to look at her with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “Because you’d be the worst thief. You’d get caught immediately. And also because it’s mine.”

“Rude,” Y/n huffed, poking his cheek. “I thought you loved me.”

Lando blinked at her, his drunk brain suddenly hyper-focused on her face. “I do love you.”

She stared at him for a moment, then burst into laughter. “You’re drunk.”

“So are you!” he shot back, pointing a finger at her that wobbled in the air. “But I still love you. Like… a lot. Like… more than I love McLaren. And that’s saying something!”

Y/n gasped, slapping her hands over her mouth. “You do not.”

“I do!” Lando insisted, his voice cracking like he was genuinely offended she doubted him. “You’re my favorite person, Y/n. Like, ever.”

Her eyes welled up, and she leaned forward, swaying slightly. “Lando… that’s so stupidly sweet. I love you, too. Like, so much. Like… more than tequila!”

“That’s not hard,” Lando said with a snort, but then he grabbed her face between his hands, squishing her cheeks. “But seriously. I love you. Like, love love.”

Y/n giggled, her voice muffled by the way her cheeks were smushed. “I love you love you, too, you dork.”

They leaned in for a kiss but missed entirely, their noses bumping awkwardly before Y/n tilted her head to the right angle. The kiss was messy and uncoordinated, but it felt perfect to them in their champagne-soaked, tequila-fueled haze.

When they finally broke apart, Y/n leaned her head against his shoulder, sighing contentedly. “You’re my favorite, Lando.”

“And you’re my everything,” Lando mumbled, his head drooping onto hers.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

A Proper Send-Off

Word count: 734

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Summary: After an emotional Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, Toto and Y/n Wolff celebrate Lewis Hamilton’s remarkable drive and heartfelt farewell.

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The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix had come to an end under the bright floodlights of the Yas Marina Circuit. The cheers of the crowd had begun to fade as the paddock slowly quieted, but the emotions of the evening still lingered like a warm embrace. It hadn’t been a podium finish, but Lewis Hamilton’s stunning drive from 16th to 4th place had been nothing short of extraordinary.

Y/n stood near the Mercedes garage, her face glowing with pride. She had watched every lap of the race, her heart racing with each daring overtake. As the team began to pack up, she caught sight of Toto striding towards her. Even after a grueling race weekend, he carried himself with his usual commanding presence. His suit jacket hung over one arm, his shirt sleeves rolled up—not a rare sight but one that made her smile.

“Toto!” she called, waving him over.

He reached her in a few long strides, wrapping her in a warm hug. “Mein Schatz,” he murmured against her hair. “What a race.”

“It was incredible,” Y/n replied, pulling back to look at him. “Lewis was brilliant. The team did an amazing job. And that tribute to him after the race? Perfect.”

Toto smiled, his eyes softening. “He deserved nothing less. Seventeen years in this sport, seven world titles… It was important to give him a send-off worthy of his legacy.”

Y/n nodded, recalling the emotional post-race celebration. After crossing the line, Lewis had been invited to park his car on the main straight, where the Mercedes crew and rival teams alike had gathered to applaud him. A short montage of his career highlights had played on the big screens, and the crowd erupted in cheers. The sight of Lewis standing atop his car, waving to the fans, had brought tears to Y/n’s eyes.

“He seemed so happy,” she said. “It felt… right, you know? Even if it wasn’t a win.”

Toto nodded, his expression thoughtful. “This sport isn’t always about winning. Tonight was about respect, about honoring what he’s done for Mercedes and for Formula 1.” He paused, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Though starting from P16 and finishing fourth—that’s as close to a victory as you can get without the trophy.”

Y/n chuckled. “It really is. I think Lewis was just as proud of that drive as any of his wins.”

They began to walk back towards the team hospitality, hand in hand. The paddock was alive with post-race activity, but Toto’s focus was entirely on her.

“I’m proud of the team,” he said after a moment. “This season hasn’t been easy, but tonight… Tonight reminded me why we do this. Why we push so hard.”

“And why you sometimes forget to sleep,” Y/n teased gently.

Toto laughed, the deep, rich sound echoing in the quieting paddock. “You keep me in check, Liebling. Always.”

As they entered the hospitality suite, the Mercedes team was gathered around, glasses in hand, toasting to the end of the season and to Lewis. Toto and Y/n were immediately swept into the celebration. George Russell clinked his glass with Y/n’s, grinning as he said, “Cheers to you two—the team behind the team!”

Y/n smiled, feeling a swell of pride. Being part of this world, supporting Toto through the highs and lows, was a privilege she never took for granted.

Later that evening, as the celebration wound down, Toto and Y/n found themselves back in their suite. The glittering Abu Dhabi skyline stretched out before them as they sat on the balcony, sipping champagne.

“Do you think Lewis will ever truly leave F1?” Y/n asked, leaning into Toto’s side.

“His heart will always be here,” Toto replied, his arm draped around her shoulders. “But I think he’s ready for the next chapter. And we’ll always be part of it, one way or another.”

Y/n looked up at him, her gaze filled with love and admiration. “You gave him a beautiful farewell, Toto. You should be proud.”

“I am,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But I’m even prouder to have you by my side.”

As they sat together under the starlit sky, Y/n felt an overwhelming sense of peace. It hadn’t been a winning season, but tonight wasn’t about championships or trophies. It was about family, legacy, and the love that made it all worthwhile.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

A Dream Realized

Word count: 730

Pairing: lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris wins the Abu Dhabi GP and the Constructors’ Championship, celebrating with family

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The air in Abu Dhabi was electric as the final race of the season reached its dramatic conclusion. Under the floodlights of the Yas Marina Circuit, Lando Norris crossed the finish line first, securing the victory—and clinching the Constructors’ Championship for his team.

The McLaren garage erupted with cheers and tears as the reality of the achievement sank in. The entire team jumped and hugged, their months of hard work finally paying off. But in the midst of the celebration, Y/n, Lando’s girlfriend, could only focus on one thing—him.

As soon as Lando brought his car to a stop in parc fermé, the cameras zoomed in on the triumphant driver climbing out of his car. Y/n didn’t wait for permission; she bolted from the McLaren garage, weaving through the sea of orange, straight towards him.

Lando pulled off his helmet, his face flushed with emotion, and just as he was turning toward his team, Y/n reached him. “Lando!” she called out, her voice breaking.

He spun around, his face lighting up the moment he saw her. Dropping everything in his hands, he opened his arms, and she threw herself into them. Lando lifted her off the ground, spinning her in a circle as tears streamed down both their faces.

“You did it!” she sobbed, holding his face in her hands as he set her down.

He grinned, brushing her hair back with trembling fingers. “We did it. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

The Sky Sports cameras caught every second, with David Croft exclaiming, “What a moment! Lando Norris is not just a winner for the constructors championship tonight but a winner in every sense of the word. His girlfriend, Y/n, clearly just as overjoyed as he is.”

Martin Brundle added warmly, “It’s always wonderful to see the people behind the driver—the ones who support them through the highs and lows. That embrace says it all.”

As Y/n stepped aside to let Lando celebrate with his team, she made her way to his parents, who were waiting by the podium steps. Adam and Cisca Norris beamed with pride, their son now a Grand Prix winner and McLaren a Constructors’ Champion.

When the trophy ceremony began, Y/n stood below the podium alongside his parents, watching Lando soak in the moment. The national anthem played, and Lando stood tall, afterwards gripping the trophy tightly with both hands as the crowd roared.

From below, Y/n’s eyes filled with tears again as she watched him raise the trophy high above his head. She could feel the pride radiating from his family. Cisca, noticing Y/n’s overwhelmed expression, pulled her into a warm embrace.

“He’s done it,” Cisca whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Y/n nodded, clinging to her. “He deserves this so much. I’m so proud of him.”

“So are we, love. And we’re proud of you too,” Cisca said, pulling back to look at her with a smile. “You’ve been such a wonderful support for him. He’s lucky to have you.”

Y/n flushed, humbled by the kind words, and hugged Cisca again. Adam patted Y/n on the back, nodding in agreement, his eyes never leaving the podium.

As Lando came down from the podium, champagne-soaked and grinning ear to ear, he spotted his family and Y/n waiting for him. He jogged over, trophy still in hand, and immediately wrapped Y/n in another hug, lifting her off the ground once more.

“You looked amazing up there,” she said, laughing as he set her down.

“I could see you,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I kept looking at you and thinking, ‘We really did it.’”

Cisca and Adam joined the moment, pulling Lando into a family embrace with Y/n squeezed between them. Sky Sports, still filming the celebration, captured the Norris family and Y/n in a heartwarming tableau, prompting Crofty to comment, “This is what it’s all about. Racing is a team sport, yes, but it’s also a family sport. And what a family moment this is for Lando Norris.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

The Gossip Chronicles

Word Count: 835

Pairing: lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando and Y/n, both lovers of gossip, eagerly dissect the drama after the drivers dinner

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The low hum of the air conditioning filled the room as Y/n lounged on the plush hotel bed, scrolling through her phone. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated her eager expression as she refreshed Twitter for the umpteenth time, hoping to catch a glimpse of what went down at the drivers’ dinner. She loved drama, and being with Lando Norris only fueled her insatiable thirst for F1 gossip.

She glanced at the clock. 10:45 PM. He’d been gone long enough.

When the door finally clicked open, Y/n practically leapt off the bed. Lando walked in, pulling the hood of his light blue hoodie down as he set his keycard on the dresser. The hoodie was slightly wrinkled, and the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, giving him that effortlessly casual vibe that Y/n loved.

“Finally!” Y/n exclaimed, grabbing a pillow and chucking it lightly at him. “What took you so long? You know I’ve been dying to hear everything.”

Lando laughed, dodging the pillow with ease. “Nice to see you too, love.”

“Don’t ‘love’ me,” she said, crossing her arms and pouting. “Spill. Now.”

Lando tugged off his sneakers and flopped onto the bed beside her, the faint scent of cologne lingering as he did. “Alright, alright,” he said, adjusting his hoodie. “Where do I even start?”

“Max and George,” Y/n said immediately, her eyes lighting up. “I saw the clips from the press conference earlier, and you can’t tell me there wasn’t tension. What happened? Did they fight? Was it awkward?”

Lando chuckled, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up slightly under his hood. “Oh, it was so awkward. Max barely looked at George the entire dinner. He was polite enough to everyone else, but you could tell he was still pissed about the whole sprint race thing.”

“I knew it!” Y/n practically squealed, sitting up straighter. “Did George say anything to him?”

“Well,” Lando said, stretching his legs out, “George tried to be civil—like, he even made this joke about the weather or something—but Max just gave him that look. You know the one.”

Y/n nodded eagerly. “The ‘I’m about to crush you on the track’ look?”

“Exactly,” Lando confirmed, smirking. “It was so uncomfortable that even Carlos had to jump in and crack a joke to break the tension.”

“Of course Carlos did,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes fondly. “What about Lewis? Was he Switzerland as usual?”

Lando snorted. “Pretty much. He was sitting between Charles and George, though, so he didn’t really get involved. But I swear, Valtteri was eating it all up. You know how he loves watching chaos unfold without actually being in it?”

“That man is the definition of petty,” Y/n said, laughing. “What about Charles? Was he just… being pretty and clueless as usual?”

Lando burst out laughing. “Pretty much. He was just sitting there, sipping his wine, probably wondering how he got stuck in the middle of all this drama. Carlos kept nudging him like, ‘Just stay quiet.’”

Y/n leaned forward, her eyes wide with excitement. “Tell me more. Who else was doing what? Did Pierre and Yuki cause a scene? Did Oscar say anything?”

Lando laughed, pulling his hood back up for dramatic effect. “Yuki almost spilled his drink trying to get Pierre to stop flirting with the waitress. And Oscar… well, Oscar just looked like he was mentally filing for a restraining order from all of us.”

Y/n laughed so hard she had to clutch her stomach. “Poor Oscar. He didn’t sign up for this chaos.”

“No, but he’s learning quickly,” Lando said, chuckling.

“So,” Y/n said, leaning closer and dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “what’s your personal take on the Max and George drama? Whose side are you on?”

Lando gave her a playful side-eye, tugging on the drawstrings of his hoodie. “You trying to get me in trouble, love?”

“Always,” she said with a grin.

“Well,” Lando said, drawing out the word dramatically, “Max is definitely holding onto a grudge, but George isn’t exactly innocent either. I think they just need to have a proper shouting match and get it over with.”

Y/n nodded sagely. “Agreed. Maybe I should lock them in a room together during the next race weekend.”

“Or we could just sit back and enjoy the show,” Lando said, smirking. “You know there’s bound to be more fireworks soon.”

“True,” Y/n said, settling back against the pillows. “I swear, F1 is better than any reality TV show.”

Lando wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “And you’re my favorite co-star.”

Y/n smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re just saying that because I let you gossip as much as I do.”

“Maybe,” Lando admitted, laughing. “But hey, it’s our thing.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Baby Fever in Abu Dhabi

Word count: 840

Pairing: lando Norris x reader

Summary: After Max and Kelly announce their pregnancy during a dinner in Abu Dhabi, Y/n finds herself daydreaming about starting a family with Lando.

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The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix weekend was always electric, the perfect mix of high stakes and celebration. The paddock buzzed with energy, and the golden hues of the desert sunset made everything feel surreal. Lando Norris and Y/n had just wrapped up a long day of media sessions and track walks, and they were both ready to unwind.

Max Verstappen and Kelly Piquet had invited them for dinner at their suite in the luxurious Yas Marina hotel. Y/n had been looking forward to it all day—Max and Kelly always made great company, and their gatherings were a welcome break from the intense race weekend atmosphere.

When they arrived, Kelly greeted them with her signature warmth, her glowing smile instantly making Y/n feel at home.

“Come in, come in,” Kelly said, ushering them inside. The suite was stunning, with a view overlooking the illuminated marina, the yachts glittering like jewels against the dark water.

Max appeared from the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine. “About time,” he teased, shaking Lando’s hand. “Thought you’d get lost on the way here.”

“Not everyone drives like you, mate,” Lando joked, smirking as he plopped onto the couch.

Y/n gave Kelly a quick hug, then turned to Max. “Thanks for having us. This place is incredible.”

“We’re glad you could come,” Kelly said, her voice unusually soft.

As dinner was served, the conversation flowed easily, touching on everything from the season’s highs and lows to plans for the off-season. But Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that Max and Kelly were holding something back. They exchanged knowing glances throughout the meal, and Kelly’s hand frequently rested on her stomach.

Finally, as dessert was brought out—a decadent chocolate cake that Y/n immediately eyed with excitement—Max cleared his throat.

“Alright,” he began, his tone quieter than usual. “We have something to share with you.”

Kelly placed her hand on his, her smile lighting up the room. “We’re having a baby,” she said, her voice trembling slightly with emotion.

Y/n gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh my God, Kelly! That’s amazing!”

Lando blinked, clearly caught off guard but quick to recover. “Wow, congrats, mate! That’s… wow.” He stood up, giving Max a firm handshake and a clap on the back before hugging Kelly.

Y/n practically launched herself at Kelly, wrapping her in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you two! You’re going to be the best parents.”

Kelly laughed softly, her hand instinctively brushing over her small bump. “Thank you. We’re so excited—and nervous, of course. But mostly excited.”

As the evening continued, the conversation shifted to baby names, nursery ideas, and Max’s surprisingly sentimental thoughts about fatherhood. Y/n couldn’t stop smiling, but deep down, a small, unexpected pang tugged at her heart.

On the drive back to their hotel later that night, Y/n stared out the window at the shimmering lights of Abu Dhabi. The streets were alive with fans and festivities, but her mind was elsewhere.

“You’ve been quiet,” Lando said, glancing at her as he navigated through the bustling roads.

She hesitated before responding. “It’s just… Max and Kelly. They seemed so happy, didn’t they?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his tone casual. “Max looked like he’d just won two championships in one season or something.”

She laughed softly, then turned to face him. “Don’t you think it’s amazing? Starting a family, building something together like that?”

Lando’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, and he gave her a quick look. “You’re not saying we should do that anytime soon, right?”

“No!” she said quickly, her cheeks flushing. “I’m just saying… I don’t know. Seeing them tonight made me think about it. Someday, maybe?”

He pulled into the hotel parking lot, switching off the engine before turning to her fully. His expression softened, a mix of amusement and tenderness. “You’ve got baby fever, don’t you?”

Y/n groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Maybe a little. But it’s not like I want a baby tomorrow or anything. It’s just… it made me think.”

Lando reached over, pulling her hands away from her face. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re avoiding the question.”

He chuckled, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her forehead. “Alright, I’ll admit it: seeing Max all excited like that was kind of cool. But we’ve got time, Y/n. Let’s enjoy what we have now, yeah?”

She nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, we do have a pretty good thing going, don’t we?”

He grinned, his signature mischievous look returning. “The best. And who knows? Maybe one day we’ll have a little Norris running around. But let’s take it one step at a time—like getting me through this race weekend first.”

Y/n laughed, the tension melting away as they headed inside. As she slipped her hand into his, she couldn’t help but picture a future where their little family dreams might just come true. But for now, she was happy with their here and now—and Lando by her side.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

The Spotlight She Never Noticed

Word Count: 878

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Summary: Y/n, unaware of her beauty, finds herself attracting newfound attention after being with Toto Wolff, leading her to slowly see herself through his adoring eyes.

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Y/n L/n always considered herself an average woman. Sure, she had her moments when she caught a glance in the mirror and thought, Not bad, but she never considered herself striking. She grew up surrounded by friends and family who treated her with love and warmth but weren’t the type to dwell on physical appearances. Compliments on her looks were rare, and when they did come, she brushed them off as politeness rather than genuine admiration.

Life took an unexpected turn when she fell for Toto Wolff, the towering, charismatic team principal of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula 1 team. Toto, with his Austrian charm, sharp intellect, and undeniable presence, was a man who could command attention in any room he entered. Yet, he only had eyes for Y/n.

Their relationship was a whirlwind. She’d met him during a charity gala in Monaco, where she had been invited as a plus-one by a friend. Y/n spent most of the evening blending into the background, nursing a glass of champagne, and admiring the glamour from afar. When Toto approached her, she’d thought at first he must have mistaken her for someone else. Why would he want to talk to her?

But Toto saw something in Y/n that she couldn’t see herself. Her natural beauty, wit, and kindness captivated him. He was persistent, charming her with his quick humor and genuine interest in her life. Slowly, Y/n let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, she was special in his eyes.

Months into their relationship, Toto began introducing Y/n to his world. The glamorous paddocks, VIP events, and high-profile parties became a part of her life. She felt out of place at first, standing next to models, celebrities, and executives who radiated confidence. But Toto’s unwavering support helped her adjust.

What Y/n didn’t notice—at least at first—was how other men began to look at her differently.

The Shift

At a private dinner in London, Y/n was chatting with one of Toto’s colleagues when she felt an unfamiliar gaze lingering on her. She glanced up to find a young marketing executive staring at her with an intensity that made her cheeks flush.

“Sorry, I—uh—didn’t catch what you said,” he stammered, clearly caught off guard.

Y/n blinked. Was he… flustered? She laughed it off and repeated herself, but the encounter left her puzzled.

Over the next few weeks, similar incidents began to pile up. At a race weekend, a journalist held her hand a little too long while introducing himself. A barista at her favorite café gave her a drink on the house, insisting it was “on him.” Even a waiter at a restaurant Toto had taken her to seemed to pay her more attention than necessary, addressing her with compliments and a lingering smile.

Y/n brushed it off, assuming people were simply being polite or trying to impress Toto through her. But then she noticed something else: the compliments were directed at her, not Toto.

“You look stunning tonight,” the waiter had said.

“Absolutely breathtaking,” murmured the journalist.

At first, she mentioned it to Toto with a laugh. “I think people are just nice because I’m with you.”

Toto frowned slightly, his protective side surfacing. “That’s not it, Y/n. You’re beautiful. They’re noticing what I’ve always seen.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re biased.”

“I’m not,” Toto insisted, taking her hand. “But I’m starting to think I need to keep an eye on you. These men clearly have no shame.”

Y/n laughed, dismissing his concern. But deep down, she began to wonder.

The Realization

It wasn’t until a sponsor’s gala in Monaco that everything clicked for her. She wore a sleek, emerald-green gown that Toto had picked out for her, claiming it matched her eyes perfectly. When she walked into the ballroom on his arm, heads turned.

Throughout the evening, men approached her with compliments and subtle flirtations, even when Toto was only a few feet away. One particularly bold individual—a young driver from a rival team—brazenly asked her to dance.

Before Y/n could respond, Toto stepped in, his arm tightening around her waist. “She’s taken,” he said firmly, his voice low and commanding. The driver quickly retreated, but Toto’s jaw remained tense for the rest of the evening.

On the drive home, Y/n finally voiced her confusion. “Why is this happening? None of this ever happened before you.”

Toto glanced at her, his expression softening. “Because you didn’t see yourself the way others see you. And now, they’ve finally noticed what I knew all along.”

“But why now?”

“Confidence, Schatz.” He smiled, taking her hand. “You carry yourself differently now. You’re with me, yes, but it’s not about my status. You’ve always been beautiful, but now you believe in yourself a little more, and people can see it.”

Y/n frowned, trying to process his words. “I don’t know… I still feel like the same person.”

“You are,” Toto reassured her. “But you’re starting to see yourself through my eyes. And that’s a good thing. Just don’t let it go to your head,” he teased, leaning over to kiss her temple.

Y/n laughed, her heart swelling with love. She still wasn’t sure if she believed him, but maybe, just maybe, she was starting to see herself a little differently.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

A Touch of Obsession

Word count : 511

Pairing: Padro Pascal x reader

Summary: Pedro becomes obsessed with Y/n's intricate new nail art

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Y/n walked into their shared apartment, the faint scent of her fresh manicure lingering as she set her bag down. Pedro was sprawled out on the couch, scripts and highlighters spread around him, glasses perched on his nose. His head snapped up when he heard the door.

"Hey, cariño," he greeted with a warm smile, setting the script aside. His eyes immediately locked onto her hands as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "Wait, are those new?"

Y/n smirked, holding out her hands like a showcase model. "Yep! Got them done today. Cool, right?"

Pedro took her hands in his, studying the intricate designs on her nails. Each nail was different—a kaleidoscope of abstract patterns, tiny metallic studs, and iridescent swirls that shifted color depending on the light.

"Wow," he murmured, turning her hands over and letting the light catch the details. "They’re... really freaking cool. They look like little pieces of art."

Y/n laughed. "That’s kind of the idea. Glad you approve."

Pedro didn’t just approve; he was fascinated. Without thinking, he started gently running his fingers over her nails, tracing the ridges of the patterns. He flicked one of the tiny studs, then tilted her hand to see how the swirls changed color.

"This one looks like a galaxy," he said, tapping her thumb.

She chuckled again, settling into the couch beside him. "Pedro, are you seriously geeking out over my nails right now?"

He glanced at her with mock seriousness. "Excuse me, I am appreciating your art." Then, his voice softened. "Also, these are really satisfying to touch."

Y/n watched, amused, as Pedro continued to fidget with her nails, using her hands like a stress toy. He pressed on the metallic studs, flicked the edges of her nails, and traced the swirl patterns like they were a maze.

"You’re going to mess them up," she teased, though she didn’t pull her hands away.

"I’m being careful," he replied, completely absorbed. His thumb grazed over her index finger, and he glanced up at her. "Seriously, though. These are like... the perfect fidget toy."

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "So, you’re saying I should keep getting my nails done like this just to entertain you?"

Pedro leaned closer, his grin mischievous. "I mean, I wouldn’t complain. Plus, they suit you. Gorgeous and a little badass."

Her cheeks flushed at the compliment, and she playfully swatted him. "You're such a nerd."

"A nerd who’s in love with his girlfriend’s nails," he said dramatically, clasping her hands to his chest like she’d gifted him something priceless. "And his girlfriend, of course."

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. "Well, lucky for you, I’ve got an appointment in two weeks. Guess you’ll have something new to obsess over."

Pedro smirked, leaning in to kiss her. "I’ll never get bored of you, Y/n. Nails or no nails."

"Good answer," she said, resting her head on his shoulder while he resumed playing with her nails.

They stayed like that for a while, Pedro content to fidget with her hands while Y/n enjoyed the attention. 

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Hey!!! I just got the most amazing idea ever!! (probably 🤭) I know that Franco had just lose his grandfather and he had to do FP. And basically everyone (the media & paparazzi just decide to hustle him despite him clearly not wanting to talk or do anything for them. Which is why he wears headphones and cap). So this is more of James with a wife reader. She is practically comforted and was with him since she always does that to everyone. Franco was just so young and she wanted to cocoon him in her warmth. From having bad weather to that awful FP which he crashed and later Alex did the same🙃🙃 Everyone especially the mechanics had to double their work because race starts in like 3 hours after quali. And how can they fix two cars in just that shirt period of time??? Being able to fix one was a miracle, but fixing two? They need to call everyone at the factory it seems😮‍💨😮‍💨 And then Alex not starting the race and Franco struggle in the rain because Williams didn't want to put wet tyres and then later crashed making the stewards flagging the race as red. You know, just a shitty day at the office. Williams out of the race:(( Everyone frustrated, tension arises, more work to do with how the race turns out to be. James admired her about that. Keeping calm, composure and bringing in warmth to everyone at the paddock (maybe interactions with drivers). This is the longest I've ever sent you, so it's up to you how it goes. I trust you. Can be anything you want. Fluff or angst or suggestive. Can be one shot or series. Anything. Just a whole lot of thank you for everything you've ever done for me!!! ❤️❤️❤️ Tag me later!! If you have any questions, just ask me!! I'll be happy to help. Thanks!!! :))

Rain, Resolve, and Resilience

word count. 1.2k

Pairing: James Vowles x reader

AN: Thank you so much for your application i really need that.

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The Williams paddock was a storm of activity that mirrored the turbulent clouds overhead. Rain battered the track, but it was nothing compared to the emotional storm inside. Franco, one of the team’s youngest drivers, had only recently lost his grandfather, the man who had nurtured his passion for racing from the start. Now, Franco was expected to push through that grief and focus on practice, even as his heart was heavy. The cameras followed his every step, journalists crowding in with pointed questions, ignoring the lines of grief etched into his face. He pulled his cap down low, headphones covering his ears in an attempt to escape, but it was all too much.

Y/n, the beloved wife of team principal James Vowles, saw it all unfold from the edge of the garage. She had spent countless hours at James's side, becoming a quiet pillar for the team in a way only she could. Mechanics and engineers knew they could go to her if the pressure became too much; her presence alone had a grounding, calming effect on everyone. Today, seeing Franco, barely more than a boy, desperately trying to hold himself together as he faced the cameras alone, broke her heart.

She moved toward him gently, slipping past the reporters who still tried to shout questions his way, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Franco,” she said, her voice calm, almost a whisper. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here.”

Franco’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. He managed a grateful smile, his voice barely audible when he replied, “Thank you, Y/n.” He didn’t say more, but she could see the relief in his eyes. Knowing he wasn’t alone in that moment meant everything.

The rain was relentless, and as the team prepared for the practice session, the paddock was tense. Y/n stayed close, keeping an eye on Franco as he prepared to take to the track. She felt protective, wanting to shield him from all the hurt and stress he was carrying. With a deep breath, he climbed into the car, and she watched, fingers crossed, hoping he could find some solace in the race. But as the rain poured harder, the slick track proved unforgiving. Franco’s car spun out on a turn, and he crashed, the impact sending a chill through the paddock. Minutes later, Alex followed, a sickening repeat that left the team reeling.

The Williams garage erupted into controlled chaos. With less than three hours to go before qualifying, both cars were in dire need of repair. Mechanics dashed back and forth, voices rising as they shared updates over radios and called for parts. It felt like an impossible task; fixing one car was a miracle on its own, but two? Every hand was needed, and the tension among the crew was palpable.

In the midst of it all, Y/n was a steady, calm presence, moving through the garage like a breath of fresh air. She approached a young mechanic, shoulders slumped as he stared down at a particularly stubborn part. He rubbed his forehead in frustration, looking close to defeat.

“Take a second,” Y/n said softly, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. “You’re doing amazing. We’ll get there, piece by piece.”

The mechanic glanced at her, finding comfort in her reassuring smile. “Thanks, Y/n,” he murmured, his spirits lifting. She continued to move through the garage, offering words of encouragement to others, giving each team member the strength to push on.

James glanced over at his wife between giving orders, his admiration shining in his eyes. She had a gift, a way of making people feel seen and valued, even when everything felt impossible. He’d often find her in these moments, quietly lifting the spirits of those around her, giving them strength without ever drawing attention to herself. She was the backbone of the team in ways that only he could see.

Back in a quieter corner of the garage, Franco sat alone, hands in his hair as he replayed the crash in his mind. He looked up as Y/n approached, her presence bringing a hint of calm to the chaos within him.

“Do you want to take a little walk?” she asked gently, nodding toward a nearby corridor away from the noise. Franco nodded, grateful for the escape, and they stepped outside into the cooler air.

As they walked, she spoke quietly, her words laced with compassion. “You know, you don’t have to keep this all bottled up. Losing someone you love…it doesn’t go away just because you’re expected to race.” Her tone was soft, non-judgmental, offering him a safe space to express the grief he’d been carrying alone.

Franco took a shaky breath, the weight of the loss settling in his chest. “I just… I wish he was here to see me race,” he admitted, his voice catching. “He taught me everything, and now…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words.

Y/n placed a comforting hand on his back, offering him a moment of silent support. “I think he’d be incredibly proud of you, Franco. You’re out here, giving it everything despite how hard things are. That takes strength,” she said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

When they returned to the paddock, Franco looked a bit lighter. The time away with Y/n had given him a bit of the peace he needed to keep going.

The rain returned with a vengeance on race day, and the paddock was alive with tension once more. Only Franco’s car had been fully repaired, and the knowledge that Alex wouldn’t be able to start weighed heavily on the team. Despite the pressure, Y/n stayed close, her comforting presence a balm to the team’s frayed nerves.

As Franco took to the track again, Y/n stayed by the garage monitors, her hands clasped tightly as she watched him navigate the rain-soaked circuit. But the track was treacherous, and the decision not to put on wet tires soon proved costly. Franco’s car began to slide, the wet track claiming another victim as he fought to regain control. Y/n’s heart sank as she watched him crash once more, the red flags raised as the race was halted.

The team was devastated. The loss of both cars cast a shadow over the weekend, leaving everyone drained and disheartened. In the paddock, frustration was written across every face, the team grappling with the weight of another painful blow. For many, the temptation to give up felt stronger than ever.

But Y/n, ever the steady presence, moved through the crowd, her calm energy pulling everyone back to center. She listened as mechanics vented their frustrations, offering a word of comfort or a quiet hug to those who needed it most. For the younger team members, she was a constant, a familiar warmth that reminded them they weren’t alone in their struggles.

When James finally made his way over, exhaustion etched into every line of his face, he found Y/n beside Franco once more. The young driver looked up at her, his gratitude clear even in his exhaustion. James watched, his admiration for his wife growing with each passing moment. She was the heart of the Williams family, the one who kept them all grounded when the pressures of racing felt too much to bear.

Y/n looked up at James, catching his gaze with a soft smile that seemed to ease his worries. “We’ll get through this,” she said, as much a promise as a reassurance.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Red Carpet Rivalry

Word count: 459

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Summary: When Y/n attends the Gladiator 2 premiere with her boyfriend Charles Leclerc, his jealousy is put to the test

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The red carpet for Gladiator 2 was dazzling, and as you stepped out of the car with Charles, photographers couldn’t take their eyes off you. You wore a fitted black dress that hugged every curve, the kind of dress that radiated confidence and allure. Charles looked dashing in his tailored suit, but his attention wasn’t just on the glitz and glamour. He was clearly tense, knowing exactly who you were hoping to see tonight.

As you made your way down the carpet, Charles’s arm possessively wrapped around your waist, he leaned close, his lips brushing your ear. “Just so you know,” he whispered, “Pedro Pascal isn’t as charming as everyone thinks.”

You shot him a playful smirk. “Oh, I’m sure,” you replied, knowing full well that Charles’s jealousy had been brewing ever since he found out Pedro Pascal was your celebrity crush. “But it’s Pedro. I mean…can you blame me?”

Charles sighed, visibly unimpressed, but he couldn’t hide the glint of jealousy in his eyes. Just as he was about to respond, you spotted Pedro at the far end of the carpet, posing for photos with that signature charming grin. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a brief moment, you were absolutely starstruck.

Charles noticed immediately, his hand tightening slightly around your waist. “You know, if he even tries to talk to you…” he started, his voice both teasing and laced with a hint of genuine protectiveness.

You couldn’t help but laugh, a sound that caught Pedro’s attention. He glanced over, and to your surprise, he shot you a warm smile, clearly intrigued. The butterflies in your stomach went wild, but you kept your composure, leaning a little closer to Charles as if to remind him he was still your date.

Still, Charles wasn’t fooled. “I see how he looked at you,” he muttered, only half-joking.

“Relax,” you whispered back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

But as Pedro approached, Charles’s jealousy only grew. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a possessive embrace just as Pedro reached your side. The actor smiled, eyes flicking from you to Charles. “Charles Leclerc,” Pedro greeted warmly, shaking his hand before turning to you. “And you must be his stunning date.”

The compliment made you blush, and for a split second, you swore you saw a hint of challenge in Pedro’s gaze. But before you could respond, Charles was already pulling you closer. “She is,” he said firmly, flashing a smile that was just a little too tight.

You stifled a laugh, feeling a surge of affection for your jealous boyfriend. Charles might be competitive on the track, but seeing him this possessive over you? That was a whole new level of adorable.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Dummfucks of the Grid

word count: 760

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: After a disappointing P6 finish at the São Paulo Grand Prix, Lando Norris finds comfort in his girlfriend Y/n's fierce support as she playfully criticizes the other drivers and team principals

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As the door to Lando’s driver’s room closed, the noise of the paddock celebrations faded into the background. Lando sat on the couch, his head in his hands, feeling the weight of finishing P6 after a race that had promised so much more. The disappointment was palpable, especially with Max winning again.

Y/n moved swiftly to sit beside him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “Hey, Lando, P6 isn’t the end of the world. You gave it your all out there.”

He sighed, his frustration evident. “Yeah, but I wanted to do better. With Max winning again, it feels like I keep falling short.”

“Falling short?” she echoed, shaking her head. “You didn’t just fall short; you navigated a field of absolute clowns out there! Let’s talk about it. You know I’m here for you.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Care to elaborate?”

“Okay, first off, Max. He drives like he’s playing Mario Kart and thinks he can just take everyone out with a blue shell! I mean, does he not understand that sharing the track is part of the job? It’s like he thinks he’s invincible! It’s ridiculous!”

He chuckled, a small smile breaking through. “That’s a good way to put it.”

“And then there’s George Russell, who finished P4 today. Honestly, he acts like he’s the golden child of the grid. ‘Look at me, I’m so talented, watch me throw my weight around!’ It’s like he forgets he has to race, not just pose for the cameras. Every time he gets near you, it’s like he’s trying to play bumper cars!”

“True,” Lando said, laughing harder now. “I can feel the ego swelling every time I see him.”

“And don’t even get me started on Leclerc! He’s out there racing like he’s auditioning for the role of ‘Most Likely to Crash Into a Wall.’ It’s like he has a special talent for making the race more dramatic than it needs to be. How does he always manage to be on the brink of disaster and still finish? Is it a gift or a curse?”

Lando nodded, now thoroughly entertained. “He does have that knack for drama, doesn’t he?”

“Absolutely! And then we have Carlos Sainz. I mean, bless him, but he’s trying so hard to keep up with Leclerc that it’s like watching a puppy chase its tail. Poor guy looks so lost sometimes, you just want to give him a treat and a pat on the head! But he gets a pass because he’s your friend.”

“Right? Carlos is actually a good guy,” Lando said, shaking his head, amused.

“And then there’s the team principals!” Y/n continued, her passion bubbling over. “Christian Horner thinks he runs a royal court every time Max crosses the finish line. ‘Look at my king!’ as if it’s not a team effort. And Toto—he’s not innocent either. He struts around like he’s the head of a fashion show! Honestly, if I had a dime for every time I’ve seen him making dramatic hand gestures in the pits, I could fund a whole new racing team!”

“Okay, that one’s a good point!” Lando laughed, feeling the tension ease with every word.

“Seriously, I would fight every one of them for you if it came down to it. Size doesn’t matter when you’re this passionate!” she declared boldly. “I’d take on Max, George, and anyone else who thinks they can just push you around out there!”

“Y/n, you do realize you’re only 5’6, right?” Lando replied, grinning. “How are you going to take on all of them?”

“I may be small, but I’ve got a big heart and a bigger mouth!” she shot back, her eyes sparkling with defiance. “Just imagine me storming the paddock like, ‘Back off, or I’ll unleash my fury on you!’”

“Please don’t start any fights in the paddock,” he said, his tone light but earnest. “I love your spirit, but I’d rather not deal with the fallout. I need you here, not banned.”

“Why not? It would be entertaining!” she countered, smirking. “I’d tell them all off! ‘Listen up, dummfucks of the grid, stop getting in my boyfriend’s way!’”

Lando laughed, the sound genuine now. “You really are something else. Knowing you’ve got my back means everything.”

“Absolutely! If they try to block you from winning, I won’t hesitate to step in,” she said, snuggling closer.

“Just promise me you won’t do anything too crazy,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face. “I love your fierceness and protective side, but let’s keep you in the paddock, okay?”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Running to You

Word count: 725

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: In the midst of a bustling paddock, Y/n, Lando’s biggest supporter, cheers him on with boundless pride, proving that to her, he’s already a champion—no matter the results.

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When Lando’s lap time solidified on the board, Y/n’s heart practically exploded with pride. She didn’t care that this was just qualifying — every single session felt monumental because she saw the effort he put in every day. With a laugh that was half a cry, she sprinted toward him, pushing through the paddock crowd until she was within arm’s reach.

“Lando!” she shouted, her voice trembling with excitement. He turned at the sound, and his face softened immediately as he saw her coming, a grin spreading across his face. Y/n didn’t slow down; she flung herself into his arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as he caught her effortlessly, pulling her close with a warm laugh.

“Oh my God, Lando, you were amazing!” she cried, her voice full of tears as she clung to him. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he cradled her against him. “Hey, it’s just quali, love,” he murmured softly, but his eyes shone with happiness.

“To me, it’s everything,” she replied, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. Her hands gently cupped his face, and she spoke so only he could hear. “You’re my champion, Lando. Every single lap, every single session, you give your all, and it’s incredible. I don’t need a title to know how amazing you are.”

He gazed at her, speechless for a moment, his eyes glistening with the emotion he didn’t often let himself show. “You make all of this worth it, you know,” he whispered, his voice rough. “Having you here… it’s like having my own little victory every day.”

Y/n’s eyes filled with happy tears, and she was about to reply when she heard a familiar voice call out, breaking into their little bubble.

“Oi, Lando, is your girlfriend crying for you or for your time?” George Russell teased, grinning from a few feet away, arms crossed as he watched them. Around him, a few other drivers had started to gather, each one of them wearing that familiar, playful grin that made Y/n roll her eyes.

She turned, standing a bit taller as she faced them, holding tightly onto Lando’s hand. “Oh, please,” she called out, waving them off. “As if any of you could pull off a lap like that!”

Pierre Gasly chuckled, feigning hurt as he nudged George. “Hey, I put in a pretty decent lap myself!”

“Sure, Pierre, but where’s your biggest fan?” Y/n teased right back, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve got someone who’d sprint across the paddock to scream for you?”

The drivers all laughed, exchanging looks with each other, but Y/n could tell they knew they’d lost this one. Yuki Tsunoda raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning. “Alright, alright. We get it. Lando’s got a personal cheerleader, and the rest of us just have to live with that.”

Y/n grinned, crossing her arms as she leaned into Lando, who was laughing, his face red with both pride and embarrassment. “Exactly,” she replied with a smirk. “And I’ll be cheering louder than any of you guys can handle, so get used to it.”

Carlos Sainz gave a playful shrug, laughing. “Guess we know who’s winning the fan section today.”

As the drivers moved on, still chuckling and throwing each other good-natured teasing glances, Y/n turned back to Lando, feeling the world around them melt away again. She looked up at him, her hands moving to rest on his chest as she took a breath, her smile softening. “They can tease all they want,” she murmured. “But no one will ever understand how proud I am of you.”

He placed his hand over hers, his gaze tender as he looked down at her. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand how I got so lucky,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “I just know that having you here… it makes me feel like I’ve already won.”

Y/n felt her cheeks heat up, and she bit her lip to keep her emotions in check. “Well, get used to it,” she replied softly, brushing a hand across his cheek. “I’m always going to be here, cheering for you. In every race, every qualifying, every single lap… you’re my champion, Lando.”

“Good,” he whispered, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Because I’m never letting you go.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Waiting for the Green Light

word count: 863

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summery: As rain delays qualifying in São Paulo, Y/n and Lando share a heartwarming moment in the garage, wrapped in each other's warmth

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The rain continued to fall heavily on the São Paulo circuit, creating a rhythmic patter against the garage roof that provided an almost soothing soundtrack to the tension in the air. Y/n had shifted onto Lando’s lap, her legs draped over his in a way that felt both natural and electric. He was still in his full racing suit, the tight fabric accentuating his lean build and showing off the logos of his sponsors, while his fireproof undershirt peeked out from under the suit. The smell of rubber and fuel clung to him, mixed with a hint of adrenaline that never seemed to leave a driver even in moments of calm.

“Can you believe this weather?” she asked, trying to make light of the situation as she settled in, feeling his warmth radiate through the layers of fabric.

“Honestly? Not really,” Lando replied, his tone playful. “It’s like the rain gods have decided to ruin my day on purpose.” He chuckled, leaning back slightly against the cold metal wall of the garage, and adjusted her on his lap so she was even more comfortable. His hands were firm but gentle, one resting on her waist while the other found her knee, his fingers absentmindedly drawing small circles over her jeans.

The tension of the rain delay melted away as they shared this little moment together. Y/n relaxed into him, allowing her head to rest against his shoulder, enjoying the way his heartbeat drummed softly beneath her ear. The garage was alive with activity around them, mechanics hurriedly checking tires and adjusting setups, but here, in their own bubble, it felt like time had stopped.

Just as she was starting to lose herself in the warmth and closeness, a flash of light caught her eye. She turned to see a couple of camera operators from the media team positioning themselves nearby, clearly looking for the perfect shot of McLaren’s rising star and his girlfriend. Her heart raced, not just from the closeness of Lando, but from the sudden realization that they were about to be the center of attention.

“Oh no, they’re filming us!” Y/n exclaimed, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she instinctively ducked her head to hide her face in Lando’s shoulder.

“Y/n, look,” he laughed, his voice playful and teasing as he gently nudged her chin up with his fingers. “Let them capture the moment. I want everyone to see how lucky I am.”

Peeking out from behind her hair, she caught the proud gleam in his eyes. Lando’s demeanor radiated confidence, and as he looked straight at the cameras, a broad grin spread across his face, showcasing the dimple in his cheek that always made her weak in the knees. “This is my amazing girlfriend,” he announced, his voice playful but filled with genuine admiration. “She’s the best part of my life!”

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at his antics, the shyness still lingering but overshadowed by her affection for him. She felt warmth spreading through her, a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “Lando!” she murmured, trying to suppress a smile as she glanced at the cameras.

He wrapped his arms around her tighter, drawing her closer, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, ignoring the buzzing around them as he focused entirely on her. “Honestly, you should see how pretty you look right now, all shy and cute. I want to show you off to the world.”

The cameras captured every moment—the way Lando’s fingers danced lightly along her side, the way he couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he watched her blush deepen. The crew around them murmured, impressed by the genuine connection between the two, a stark contrast to the cold and professional atmosphere typically found in the paddock.

“See? I told you, you’re gorgeous,” he said softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his touch sending little sparks across her skin. “And this?” He gestured vaguely at their surroundings. “This is just the beginning of the day. I have a feeling things will heat up once they call us back out there.”

She chuckled, playfully rolling her eyes. “What do you mean? You want to take me on a victory lap?”

“If it means I get to show off how beautiful you are, then absolutely!” Lando’s enthusiasm was infectious, and it made her heart soar. The way he looked at her with such pride made her feel like the only person in the room, even amidst the chaos of the garage.

As they continued to wait, the rain began to lighten, and the crew prepared for the eventual announcement from the FIA. Y/n nestled into him, feeling safe and cherished. Lando’s racing suit felt slightly damp against her cheek, but that only added to the feeling of being enveloped in warmth.

“Just so you know,” he murmured, his breath warm against her hair, “no matter what happens out there today, I’m glad I have you here with me. You make all this chaos worthwhile.”

She turned her head to meet his gaze, her heart swelling with affection. “And you make waiting in a damp garage the best time ever.”