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its-avalon-08 · 14 days ago

Note

Could you write something where reader and Lando have been in a relationship and reader has a heart condition and she never told Lando so he didn’t stress about her and to focus on racing, and Lando and her brake up because he stupidly told her he wants to focus on racing this year and after she left he realised his mistake as all the little things reader did for him before a race are all gone and everything just feels wrong and when he tries to contact her he can’t find her until a few weeks later he gets a call from the hospital that reader has fallen unconscious and when he gets there he then learns about her heart condition and that stress is not good for her heart. But happy ending.

heart flutters (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, heart condition

The morning sun slipped through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Lando’s bedroom. Y/N was lying beside him, her hand resting on his chest, her breathing soft and steady. Lando felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he looked down at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

He couldn’t quite remember when his mornings had become this perfect, but he knew Y/N had something to do with it.

She shifted, blinking awake, and her sleepy smile met his gaze. “Good morning, love,” she murmured, voice still thick with sleep.

"Morning," he replied, kissing her forehead. "Did you sleep okay?"

“Always do when I’m with you,” she replied, snuggling closer. “Although I could do without you hogging the blanket,” she teased, giving him a playful poke.

Lando laughed, pulling her closer. “Alright, alright, I’ll work on it.”

These mornings together, the lazy Sundays and cozy, laughter-filled moments, were Y/N’s specialty. She seemed to know exactly what he needed, especially on race days. She’d wake up early with him, helping him calm his nerves and making sure he had everything he needed. And every time, he’d find some new way she was taking care of him, even if it was something small—like hiding a little note in his helmet, wishing him luck.

“Hey,” Y/N said, watching his thoughtful expression. “You okay?”

Lando nodded. “Just thinking about how lucky I am,” he admitted, his voice soft.

Y/N blushed, rolling her eyes a little. “You’re getting sappy on me, Norris.”

“Just telling it like it is,” he replied, smiling as he watched her try to hide her smile.

They went about their morning, with Y/N humming along to the soft music playing in the kitchen as she made breakfast. She slid a plate across to Lando, along with a steaming cup of his favorite coffee. He took a sip, sighing in contentment. She’d even managed to get his coffee just right.

"Alright, mister," she said with a smirk, sitting down beside him. "What's the game plan today?"

"Game plan?” he teased, raising an eyebrow. “Thought you were the expert at making my plans.”

“Maybe,” she replied, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “But I like to think I’m just the support. You’re the superstar here.”

Lando rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You’re more than support, Y/N. You’re… you’re my everything, you know that?”

Y/N smiled, but there was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, something he didn’t notice, too wrapped up in the moment. She covered it up with a quick laugh, brushing it off. “And you’re mine. Just… try not to get too cocky on track, alright?”

He laughed, squeezing her hand. “Can’t make any promises.”

Their relationship was filled with moments like these—easy, natural, just them being themselves. Y/N grounded him, kept him steady, especially when the world of racing felt overwhelming. She never burdened him with anything else, always making sure his focus was on the track. And she always brushed off his attempts to give back, saying his happiness was all she needed.

But it was Lando who felt like he needed her more than he’d ever admit.

As they finished breakfast, she reached out, taking his hand. "You'll do amazing, Lando," she said quietly. "You always do."

"I only do so well because of you, you know that?" he replied, squeezing her hand.

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes again, but there was warmth there, too. “Alright, alright, enough with the sweet talk. Go focus on your race and be the best you can be out there. That’s all I ask.”

Lando leaned in, kissing her softly. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Norris,” she replied, grinning as she kissed him back.

As he left for the track, he felt a familiar sense of calm wash over him. Y/N had this way of making everything feel right, grounding him no matter what lay ahead. He knew, deep down, that he’d never be able to thank her enough for everything she did for him.

And for Y/N, watching him walk out the door with that smile, she knew that was exactly how she wanted it to be.

It was late, and the rain was tapping against the window of Lando’s apartment as he paced back and forth, hands tangled in his hair. The 2024 season had been brutal, every race pushing him to his limit, the pressure of a potential world championship win weighing on him like a mountain. He could practically taste the victory, but the stress of it all had made him someone he barely recognized.

Y/N was sitting on the couch, arms crossed as she watched him pace. She’d noticed it for weeks now, the way he was shutting her out, snapping at her for even the smallest things, as if she were just another distraction.

Finally, she broke the silence, her voice sharp. “Lando, can you stop pacing for two seconds and talk to me?”

He stopped, sighing heavily as he turned to face her. “What do you want me to say, Y/N?” he muttered. “That I’m exhausted? That I can’t focus with all of this going on?”

“All of this?” she echoed, hurt flashing across her face. “What’s ‘all of this,’ exactly? Because I thought we were a team, Lando. I thought I was helping you!”

“Helping me?” he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I have to focus. Every race, every lap, every second counts right now. I can’t… I don’t have time to be dealing with you—”

“Dealing with me?” Her voice was sharp, a bitter laugh escaping her. “Lando, I’ve done nothing but support you. Every single time you’re struggling, I’m here. And now you’re telling me I’m… I’m a distraction?”

He clenched his fists, too frustrated to back down. “That’s exactly what I’m saying! Every time I’m around you, I feel like I’m being pulled in a million directions. I need to focus on racing, Y/N. I need this championship.”

“And what about us, Lando?” she demanded, standing up, her own anger now matching his. “Do I mean anything to you anymore, or am I just some inconvenience? Because that’s exactly how you’re making me feel.”

He looked away, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “Maybe it’s just not working anymore.”

Her eyes widened, the pain in them unmistakable. She took a shaky breath, her voice barely a whisper. “So that’s it? Just like that? You’re giving up on us?”

“Maybe I am,” he snapped, though even as he said it, something twisted painfully in his chest. “Maybe I need to focus on my career. I can’t have anyone holding me back right now.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “Holding you back? I’m holding you back, Lando? After everything I’ve done? The sacrifices I’ve made, the nights I stayed up worrying for you, the races I watched, praying you’d come home safe… that’s ‘holding you back’?”

“You just don’t understand,” he muttered, his voice softer now but still laced with frustration. “You don’t get the pressure I’m under, Y/N. I have a chance to win this championship, and I can’t be thinking about anything else.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” she replied, her tone cold. “You’ve let this championship turn you into someone I barely recognize. The Lando I knew would have never pushed me away like this.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” he said, the words hitting her like a slap.

She swallowed hard, the hurt on her face plain to see. But she wasn’t about to let him get away with this. “You’re right,” she replied, her voice trembling with anger. “Maybe I don’t know you anymore. Because the man I fell in love with would have never treated me like this. He wouldn’t have thrown away everything we have because he’s too blinded by his own ambition.”

“Fine,” he spat, his anger still raging. “Maybe you should just leave, then.”

Silence fell between them, the weight of his words settling like a stone in the room. Y/N stared at him, her eyes filling with tears, but she refused to let them fall.

“Don’t worry, Lando,” she said, her voice breaking slightly as she grabbed her coat from the back of the chair. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your precious championship.”

She turned toward the door, but stopped just before leaving, looking back at him one last time. “I hope it’s worth it, Lando. I really do.”

And with that, she was gone, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing in the silence of the apartment.

Lando stood there, the anger that had been burning inside him now replaced by a hollow ache. He’d gotten what he’d wanted—he was free to focus on his racing. But as he looked around the empty room, he realized just how empty his life felt without her.

Lando sat alone in his dimly lit apartment, the silence pressing in on him like a weight he couldn’t shake off. It had been two weeks since Y/N had walked out. At first, he told himself he’d done the right thing, that he needed to focus on racing, that he couldn’t afford any distractions. But now, all he could feel was the aching void she’d left behind.

Race weekend had come, and the pre-race routines—the moments that had once been so seamless, so comforting—now felt cold and empty. His helmet was sitting on the counter, untouched. There were no little notes tucked into his bag, no reminders to stay safe, no lucky charm slipped into his hand just before he left for the track. Y/N had always known what to do, how to make him feel like he could conquer the world. Now, everything just felt wrong.

He leaned against the counter, clutching the edge, his heart pounding as he stared down at his helmet. The knot in his chest tightened with each passing second, a harsh reminder of how badly he’d messed up.

“Lando?” Max entered the room, noticing his tense expression. “You alright, mate? You don’t look yourself.”

Lando managed a hollow smile, waving him off. “I’m fine.”

But Max wasn’t convinced. He took a seat across from him, eyeing him carefully. “You’ve been off these past few weeks. Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Yeah, just… racing stress, you know?” Lando muttered, though he knew it was a lie. It wasn’t racing stress—it was Y/N. She’d been his anchor, the one person who made him feel like he was more than just a driver. Without her, he felt like he was falling apart.

Max raised an eyebrow, skeptical but respectful enough not to push further. “Alright, well… if you need anything, let me know. You know I’m here for you.”

“Thanks,” Lando replied, trying to keep his voice steady. But as Max left, the emptiness clawed at him even more fiercely. He glanced back down at his helmet, the silence in the room growing louder, deafening.

He couldn’t hold it in any longer. He slumped down onto the floor, burying his face in his hands as memories flooded him. He remembered the way Y/N would look at him with those warm eyes, her voice filled with gentle reassurance.

The more Lando went through his days, the more he noticed just how much Y/N had been woven into every corner of his life. Each time he stumbled over a small moment they used to share, it was like a painful reminder of how deeply he had messed up.

Race Day Routine

When he sat down for breakfast the morning of his next race, he instinctively reached for the small bag she’d usually leave out for him—one filled with his favorite snacks, electrolyte packets, and a note in her neat handwriting that usually said, “For that extra boost, love. You’ve got this.” Every race day morning, she’d make sure his essentials were perfectly packed, knowing how easily he’d forget them in the rush.

But the counter was empty, and so were his hands. There was no note, no bag, no encouraging message. He’d scoffed at how overprotective she’d been, thinking he could handle it himself. Now, as he fumbled to prepare for his race on his own, the empty counter felt like a gaping hole in his chest.

Before the Race

In the paddock, he felt it again, the silence louder than ever. Y/N would always make sure to slip away with him for just a moment before he stepped into the garage, giving him a quiet pep talk when he needed it most. Her words, so full of calm and warmth, used to steady him, keeping the pressure from crushing him. She’d take his face in her hands, look him straight in the eyes, and remind him, “It’s just you and the track. Nothing else matters. Drive like only you can.”

He’d rolled his eyes at her sometimes, told her he didn’t need the cheesy encouragement—but she’d insisted anyway, saying, “Well, too bad, because you’re getting it.” Her words were like armor, a shield she’d wrapped around him before every race.

Now, standing alone by his car, he could feel the pressure creeping in, gnawing at him, and there was nothing to keep it at bay. He glanced around, almost expecting to see her in the crowd, but of course, she wasn’t there.

Late Nights in the Simulator

Back at the team facility, he spent more time than ever practicing, pushing himself harder, trying to keep his mind from drifting back to her. But even here, she’d left her mark. On the long nights, Y/N used to bring him coffee, perfectly made just the way he liked it, and sit beside him, giving him quiet company. She wouldn’t say much, just enough to keep his spirits up, occasionally throwing him an encouraging smile as he took lap after lap in the simulator.

And when he’d get frustrated, when he’d curse and slam his fists on the table, she’d place a calming hand on his shoulder, reminding him, “You’re Lando Norris, you can do this. Don’t let the tough laps get to you. Breathe.”

Now, he sat there, tense and alone, his coffee lukewarm and forgotten. No hand to steady him, no quiet reassurance. The simulator felt cold, and so did he.

At Home, Late at Night

Even the nights felt wrong. Y/N had always insisted on turning on the small night light for him, a tiny habit she’d developed when she realized that he hated stumbling around in the dark after a race, too exhausted to find his way. He’d teased her about it, saying he didn’t need it, but she’d laugh, saying, “Well, one of us does.” She’d make sure it was on for him every night she stayed over, like clockwork.

Tonight, he sat in the pitch-black room, the silence pressing in, the absence of the warm glow almost suffocating. He clenched his fists, swallowing against the ache that was rising in his throat. He missed her laugh, her teasing, the tiny acts of love she’d filled his life with.

Flashback

“You’re going to be amazing today, Lando,” she’d whisper, holding his hand just before he stepped onto the track. “Just remember, it’s not about winning or losing to me. I love you just the same, no matter what.”

And he’d feel his nerves melt away. She had a way of making him feel like he could face anything.

Now, without her, the fear crept back in, gnawing at him from the inside.

He pressed his palms into his eyes, a shaky breath escaping him. “God… what have I done?”

Every little thing she used to do, every act of kindness, every word of encouragement—he’d taken it all for granted. He thought he could focus better without her, that his life would be easier. But instead, all he felt was the emptiness of her absence, like a cold shadow in every corner.

His phone buzzed on the counter, and his heart jumped, a surge of desperate hope flooding him as he reached for it. But it was just a message from his manager.

Frustration tore through him, and he tossed his phone down, clenching his fists. He could still hear her voice in his head, her words from their last fight haunting him.

Flashback to Their Argument

“Don’t worry, Lando,” she’d said bitterly, her voice cracking. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your precious championship.”

He remembered her eyes, red and tear-filled, as she looked at him one last time, filled with a pain he’d caused. He remembered thinking he was doing the right thing, choosing his career, telling himself he couldn’t afford to be vulnerable.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered to himself, feeling a tear slip down his cheek.

Everything felt different without her. The things he used to love—the rush of the track, the thrill of competition—they all felt meaningless now. He was pushing himself harder than ever, but it wasn’t out of passion. It was to numb the ache she’d left behind, to keep himself from falling apart.

But no matter how fast he drove, how hard he pushed, he couldn’t outrun the realization.

Race Day Morning

He stood in front of the mirror, suit half-zipped, his hands gripping the sink as he stared at his own reflection. His face looked drawn, the shadows under his eyes deep. The loneliness, the guilt, the regret—it was all written there, plain as day.

“You look terrible,” he muttered to himself, voice hollow.

He remembered the way she’d stand beside him, fixing his collar, laughing as she reminded him to keep his head cool. And now, all he had was his own reflection staring back at him, mocking him with his own emptiness.

Finally, the weight became too much, and he grabbed his phone, his fingers shaking as he typed her number. He didn’t know what he was going to say, didn’t know if she’d even answer. But he couldn’t keep going like this. He needed to apologize, to tell her how wrong he’d been, how much he missed her.

The phone rang, each ring feeling like an eternity. Just as he was about to give up, her voicemail clicked on.

“Hey, it’s Y/N… leave a message.”

He swallowed hard, the sound of her voice hitting him like a punch to the gut. Taking a shaky breath, he spoke, his voice breaking.

“Y/N… it’s me. I… I don’t know if you’ll ever listen to this, but I just… I’m so sorry.” His voice trembled, each word spilling out like a confession. “I was wrong, okay? I thought I needed to focus, but without you… everything’s falling apart. I miss you. I miss… us. Please… please just… call me back.”

He hung up, feeling the weight of his own words settle over him. But there was nothing else he could do now, except hope—hope that somehow, she might still care, might still give him a chance to fix the mess he’d made.

Lando had tried everything. He’d called, texted, even reached out to her friends, hoping someone could tell him where she was. But no one had any information; she’d slipped away completely. Days turned into weeks, and with each one, the realization sank deeper: she might never come back.

One night, Lando sat alone in his apartment, drained and unfocused, his phone resting on the coffee table. His mind was restless, jumping between regret and desperation, reliving their last fight, the look in her eyes as she’d walked out.

Then, the phone rang, startling him out of his thoughts. He grabbed it without thinking, not even checking the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Is this Lando Norris?” a calm, professional voice asked.

“Uh… yeah, this is him,” Lando replied, his heart pounding.

“This is Dr. Kapoor from St. Thomas Hospital. You’re listed as an emergency contact for Y/N Y/L/N.”

Lando’s stomach dropped, his throat suddenly dry. “Yes, yes, that’s me… is she alright? What happened?”

“She was brought in unconscious a few hours ago,” the doctor explained. “We’ve stabilized her, but we’d like you to come in as soon as possible.”

Lando didn’t need to hear anything else. He muttered a frantic “I’m on my way” before grabbing his keys and running out the door.

The drive to the hospital felt endless, each passing second stretching painfully as he sped down the empty streets. His mind raced with possibilities, the worst scenarios creeping in, twisting his insides. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly they were white.

By the time he burst through the hospital doors, he was gasping for breath, his heart pounding as he frantically searched for her room. A nurse pointed him down the hall, and he bolted, not caring how he looked, just needing to see her, to know she was alright.

He found her room and stopped, momentarily frozen by the sight before him. Y/N lay in the hospital bed, pale and fragile, wires and monitors surrounding her. The steady beep of her heart monitor filled the room, grounding him slightly, but the sight of her like this tore at him. Slowly, he stepped forward, his throat tight, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

Just as he was about to speak, the doctor entered.

“Mr. Norris?” Dr. Kapoor’s voice was gentle, sensing his distress.

Lando nodded, barely able to manage a word. “What… what happened to her?”

Dr. Kapoor took a deep breath, her expression softening. “Y/N has a heart condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. It’s a condition that can be exacerbated by stress, which could lead to fainting or, in severe cases, even heart failure.”

Lando’s face fell, his voice barely a whisper. “She… she never told me.”

“She might not have wanted to worry you,” the doctor said. “It’s common for patients with this condition to keep it private, especially if they think it might place a burden on others.”

Lando’s heart twisted, a wave of guilt washing over him as he realized why she’d never mentioned it. She hadn’t wanted him to stress, to worry, especially during the season when he’d been under so much pressure. She’d always put him first, even to the point of hiding something so serious.

He took a shaky breath, blinking back tears. “Can I… can I see her?”

The doctor nodded. “She’s stable now, and she’ll likely wake up soon. But remember, keeping her calm is crucial. She’ll need rest and minimal stress to recover.”

Lando swallowed, nodding quickly, but he couldn’t keep the emotion out of his voice. “I’ll… I’ll take care of her. I swear.”

Dr. Kapoor offered him a small, understanding smile before leaving the room, giving him a moment alone with Y/N.

Lando stepped closer, reaching out to gently take her hand. His thumb traced over her knuckles, and he noticed how cold her hand felt in his.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. I should have been there. I should have known.”

He sat beside her, the weight of everything hitting him all at once. “I was so… so stupid. I thought I needed to focus on racing, but… God, I was wrong. I was so wrong. You’re… you’re everything, Y/N. None of this means anything without you.”

He stayed like that, holding her hand, his head bowed as he let himself cry for the first time in weeks. All the pride, all the anger—it had melted away, leaving only the raw, aching regret of having pushed away the one person who truly loved him.

After a few minutes, he felt her fingers twitch slightly in his hand. His head shot up, hope flooding his chest as he saw her eyes slowly blink open.

“Y/N?” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

She blinked up at him, confusion flickering across her face before her gaze settled on him, and he saw a flash of pain in her eyes. “Lando…?”

He took a deep breath, his grip on her hand tightening. “I’m here. I’m right here, love.”

She tried to sit up, wincing as the monitor beeped slightly faster. Lando was quick to place a hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle but firm. “Hey, don’t… don’t push yourself. Just… just rest.”

She looked away, her voice barely a whisper. “Why are you here, Lando? I thought… you wanted to focus on racing.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, but he forced himself to face her, to let her see the remorse in his eyes. “I was wrong, Y/N. I was so, so wrong. I thought I needed to do it alone, that I couldn’t let myself get… attached. But all I did was ruin the best thing in my life.”

Her expression softened, and he saw her blinking back tears. “You really hurt me, Lando. I didn’t ask you for much. I just wanted to be there for you, and you… you made me feel like I was a burden.”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “And I hate myself for it. You did everything for me, and I didn’t see it until you were gone. I love you, Y/N… I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and he reached up, brushing it away with a tenderness that spoke of all the things he wished he’d done sooner. “I’m here now,” he continued. “And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

She looked at him for a long moment, searching his face, and finally nodded, her hand squeezing his. “You hurt me, Lando. But… I still love you, too.”

Relief flooded his face, and he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’ll be better. I promise.”

For the first time in weeks, Lando felt a spark of hope, knowing he had a chance to rebuild what he’d nearly thrown away. And as he sat beside her, holding her close, he vowed never to let her feel alone again.

Lando had been the perfect caretaker ever since Y/N was discharged from the hospital. He took her straight back to their apartment, rearranging everything in his life to ensure she was comfortable and safe. Every morning, he’d bring her breakfast in bed with a ridiculous grin, complete with heart-shaped toast and fresh orange juice. He filled her day with little surprises—flowers by her bedside, a new stack of her favorite books, and even a fuzzy blanket he’d bought just for her.

One night, Y/N woke up in the middle of the night, instinctively reaching for him, only to find his side of the bed empty. Confused, she sat up, rubbing her eyes. She hadn’t heard him get up, and her heart skipped slightly as worry bubbled up, wondering if something was wrong.

Quietly, she slipped out of bed, her bare feet padding softly as she went to look for him. She found him in the living room, seated on the couch with his laptop open and a small notebook by his side. His hair was tousled, and he had a focused, almost determined expression on his face as he typed something into the search bar.

“Understanding Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy” appeared on the screen, along with several videos, articles, and patient forums. Lando had a pen in his hand, and as he clicked on a video, she watched as he jotted down notes on a page, his handwriting a messy scrawl but full of sincerity. The video’s audio was soft, and she could hear the narrator explaining symptoms, risk factors, and the importance of a low-stress environment.

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she watched him, realizing just how much he was trying to understand, to do anything he could to protect her.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself, tapping the pen on the notebook. “Avoid stress… maybe I can start doing a weekly meditation with her or, like… yoga? Yeah, that might help. And… maybe I should keep her work stuff organized so she doesn’t feel overwhelmed.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back any longer. She quietly stepped forward, and Lando jumped slightly when he felt her curl up on his lap, but he immediately wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice tender as he brushed a hand over her hair. “What are you doing awake?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she murmured, tilting her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes were soft, full of gratitude and love, and Lando’s heart swelled.

He gave her a sheepish smile, glancing at the open notebook. “I… I wanted to make sure I was doing everything right. I know I’ve messed up before, and I want to be the best I can be for you now. So, I figured… I’d do my homework.”

Y/N let out a quiet laugh, blinking back tears. “You’re really… reading up on my condition?”

“Of course I am,” he said, his voice warm but serious. “I need to know how to keep you safe. How to make sure you’re not stressed out or worried, and…” He swallowed, his voice breaking just a bit. “I just want to make everything perfect for you, love.”

She buried her face in his neck, her heart aching in the best way possible. “Lando… you’re already doing more than enough. Just… being here with me, caring for me… it’s more than I could ever ask for.”

“But it doesn’t feel like enough,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “I’m never going to let you feel alone or unimportant again. You’re my world, Y/N. I want to make sure you’re as healthy and happy as you can be.”

She pulled back, looking at him with watery eyes, a small smile on her face. “Lando, I don’t need perfection. I just need you.”

His expression softened as he cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Well, you’re stuck with me,” he said, grinning. “Because I’m not going anywhere. And I’m gonna keep studying this and doing everything I can to make sure you feel safe and loved.”

She laughed through her tears, leaning into his hand. “You already make me feel so loved. I don’t think you even realize it, but you do.”

Lando’s smile turned gentle, and he bent down to press a tender kiss to her forehead. “Good. Because I’m crazy about you, Y/N. I just want to be the person you deserve.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his kiss settle over her, and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re already that person, Lando. You always have been.”

He chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her as he held her close. “Good. Because I’m not stopping until I see that smile on your face every single day.”

As Y/N nestled closer into his lap, her attention shifted to the laptop screen, where a doctor was speaking in a calm, measured tone.

“Managing stress is crucial for patients with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy,” the voice on the video explained. “Avoid situations that may induce high emotional stress. For instance, hostile conversations, arguments, or other confrontational exchanges can increase strain on the heart.”

Lando stilled, his gaze fixed on the screen as those words sank in. She could feel him tense beneath her, a flicker of regret passing over his face.

“That… makes sense,” he whispered, almost to himself. “I’ve been so selfish. I didn’t realize that my own stress… my own words… could actually make things worse for you.”

Y/N put her hand on his cheek, urging him to look at her. “Lando, it’s okay—”

“No,” he interrupted gently, meeting her gaze with a deep, remorseful look. “It’s not okay. I didn’t just make things stressful; I let you feel like you couldn’t even tell me what was going on with you. I was so wrapped up in myself… I can’t believe I was so blind.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she watched him, the depth of his regret written all over his face. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “We’re here now. That’s what matters. You’re here, and I know how much you care.”

He exhaled slowly, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter. “I’ll never let stress come between us again, love. I promise.”

They sat together like that, wrapped up in each other, as the rest of the world faded away. Lando continued to stroke her hair, murmuring sweet promises of the future he envisioned for them. And for the first time in weeks, Y/N felt a calm settle over her, knowing that Lando was there, exactly where he wanted to be, and that he wasn’t going anywhere.

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its-avalon-08 · 15 days ago

Note

Could you write a story where the reader is an F1 reporter who gets along well with everyone? She’s a close friend, and everyone considers her like a “sister” (or maybe even more for some… I don’t know, let me be delulu here!) and when she gets pregnant, they all become super protective and take extra care of her. For example, if she’s struggling with the heat, they make sure she’s comfortable. Thank you!

golden child of the paddock (all drivers)

✦ pairing - all drivers x female!reader (platonic), carlos sainz x female!driver (non platonic)

✦ genre - protective drivers, romance

The first time Y/N stepped into the F1 paddock as a young, starry-eyed reporter, she felt a blend of excitement and nerves. She was new to the sport, young, and a little out of her depth, but she knew her passion for racing and her natural curiosity would be enough to keep her going. Still, when she looked around at the towering motorhomes, the thrumming of engines, and the throng of seasoned journalists, it was hard not to feel like she was in over her head.

"First day on the job?" a voice came from her side. She turned to see none other than Daniel Ricciardo, grinning with that trademark mischievous smile. He’d noticed her as she was nervously adjusting her press badge.

"Uh, yeah," she admitted, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "Guess it's pretty obvious."

Daniel laughed and gave her a friendly nudge. "You’ll be fine. Just stick around us drivers; we’re way more fun than those old journos anyway."

Just then, a few other drivers came over, drawn by the new face in the crowd. Lando Norris was quick to introduce himself, already full of playful questions.

"So, Y/N, are you here to keep an eye on me?" he teased, giving her a wink. "Because, let’s be honest, I’m the only interesting one on the grid."

"Right," Y/N said, unable to help the laugh that escaped. "I’ll try to keep my focus on you, Lando."

Max Verstappen raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "Good luck with that. But hey, if you ever want the real story, you know who to ask."

Y/N quickly felt herself relaxing as the drivers bantered with her, making her feel more at home. Soon, the entire paddock was buzzing with news of the young, friendly reporter. And the drivers? Well, they seemed determined to keep her close.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N found herself almost part of the F1 family. She’d interview the drivers in the press pen, and somehow, every single one of them found a way to add a bit of personal advice or a subtle check-in.

"Did you eat today?" Lewis Hamilton asked her once, holding out an extra protein bar during a post-practice interview.

"Oh, I… yeah, I grabbed something earlier," she stammered, a little caught off guard.

He nodded, handing her the bar anyway. "You’re going to need the energy. Trust me. This job doesn’t slow down."

Even Sebastian Vettel would occasionally pause to check in on her. Once, he found her frowning at her notes during a practice session. "Don’t worry too much about getting every detail perfect, Y/N," he said kindly. "You’re doing great. Just be yourself—that’s what people connect with."

"Thanks, Seb," she said, feeling a bit of relief wash over her. "I guess I’m just… I don’t want to mess up."

Seb gave her a reassuring smile. "You won’t. Just remember, we’re all here to help if you need it."

Then, there was Carlos Sainz. Unlike the others, his way of protecting her was a bit more… personal. The first time she interviewed him, he was warm and polite, but as the weeks passed, his demeanor shifted ever so slightly. He’d always look at her with this glint in his eye, his smile lingering a second longer than necessary.

"Amor," he greeted her one morning, his Spanish accent adding a warmth to the word that made her cheeks heat up. "You’re looking stressed. Are they working you too hard?"

She blinked, feeling a little flustered. "Carlos, I’m fine, really. Just part of the job."

Carlos tilted his head, giving her a small, teasing smile. "Maybe. But if you need a break, you let me know, sí? Can’t have you running around too much."

The way he looked at her, the gentle tone of his voice, and the pet names—amor, cariño—all of it made her feel a little thrill each time they spoke.

As the season continued, it became clear to everyone in the paddock that Y/N was something special. Not just another reporter but someone who cared about them, respected them, and brought a certain brightness with her wherever she went. And as they got closer, the drivers each took on their own version of ‘big brother’ with her.

One afternoon, she was struggling with some heavy equipment when Pierre Gasly spotted her and practically sprinted over.

"Whoa, whoa, no way, Y/N. We’re not doing this," he said, taking the bag off her shoulder. "You’re not carrying anything if we’re around, okay?"

"Pierre, I can handle it, seriously," she tried to argue, but Pierre just shook his head.

"Not happening. You’re stuck with all of us now, so get used to it."

She had barely gotten over Pierre’s chivalrous intervention when she felt someone tap her shoulder. Turning around, she found Charles Leclerc standing with a concerned frown.

"Y/N, I saw you trip on the stairs earlier. You didn’t hurt yourself, right?"

She laughed, brushing it off. "I’m fine, Charles. Just a little stumble."

He crossed his arms, clearly not convinced. "Alright, well, just… watch your step, okay?"

Everywhere she went, there seemed to be a driver looking out for her. They’d bring her water bottles when it was hot, extra snacks when she looked tired, and Carlos, of course, was always there to check on her, calling her mi vida and making sure she never felt alone.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Carlos found her sitting on a low wall by the track, staring out over the circuit, lost in thought.

"Mind if I join you, cariño?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Not at all," she smiled as he sat beside her.

They sat in companionable silence for a while before Carlos spoke. "You know, everyone here thinks of you as a sister."

Y/N laughed. "Yeah, I’ve noticed. I can’t even carry my own things anymore!"

Carlos chuckled, his fingers brushing her arm. "It’s because we care about you. And some of us…" He paused, his gaze turning serious. "Some of us more than others."

Her heart skipped a beat as she looked at him. "Carlos…"

He gave her a shy smile, something rare for the usually confident driver. "I just want you to know, Y/N. You’re not alone here."

She nodded, a soft blush spreading across her cheeks. "I know. Thanks, Carlos."

Just then, Max passed by, smirking. "Hey, Carlos, not hogging Y/N, are we?"

Carlos shot him a look. "Can’t a man have a moment, Max?"

Max grinned, winking at Y/N. "Don’t worry, Y/N. If he’s bothering you, just let us know."

As Max walked off, Carlos rolled his eyes, but his hand found hers, squeezing gently. "They’ll never leave you alone now, mi amor. Better get used to us all."

Y/N smiled, looking out over the track, feeling for the first time that she truly belonged. Surrounded by a family of drivers, each one ready to support, protect, and care for her, she knew this would be the beginning of something wonderful.

It was the last night of the race weekend, and the paddock was almost deserted. Only a few lights remained on, casting a soft glow over the empty garages and tents. Y/N lingered by the trackside, her heart racing in her chest. She had made up her mind—she couldn’t keep pretending she didn’t feel anything for Carlos. But she didn’t think she’d be standing here, ready to confess her feelings in such a big way.

"You got this, Y/N," Lando said, giving her a little nudge of encouragement. The rest of the drivers had banded together, helping her plot the perfect confession for the man who had her heart.

"But what if he… I don’t know, laughs?" Y/N wrung her hands nervously, feeling her cheeks flush. "What if he doesn’t feel the same way?"

"Then he’s an idiot," Pierre chimed in with a grin, his arm around her shoulder. "But trust me, he’s not that dumb. I mean, he calls you cariño every day. I’m pretty sure he’s already halfway in love with you."

Sebastian, who had come along to witness the moment, chuckled. "You’ve grown up so fast, Y/N. Look at you—confessing your feelings like a true professional."

"Just… be yourself," Charles added, giving her an encouraging smile. "Carlos would be lucky to have you."

"Really?" she whispered, looking at her friends with wide eyes. They all nodded emphatically, giving her the strength she needed to take the leap.

As she waited, Y/N glanced back at her team of ‘brothers,’ who were hiding in the shadows with poorly concealed excitement. George and Alex were practically bouncing on their toes, and even Max was grinning.

Finally, she saw Carlos walking towards her, his hair still a little messy from the day, his eyes bright despite the late hour. "Y/N?" he asked, his brows raised in surprise. "What’s going on?"

She took a deep breath, willing herself not to lose her nerve. "Carlos, there’s something I need to tell you. And, um… please just listen, okay? Don’t say anything until I’m finished."

Carlos’s smile softened as he nodded. "Of course, mi vida."

"Right, okay…" She took another breath, staring at the ground, feeling her heart pounding against her ribs. "So, ever since I started here, you’ve… you’ve been one of the best parts of my job. The way you tease me, how you’re always looking out for me, calling me all those sweet names…" She laughed, slightly embarrassed. "At first, I thought it was just you being nice. But then… I realized it’s more than that for me. I… I really like you, Carlos. A lot."

There was a soft gasp from somewhere behind her, probably Lando, but Y/N kept her eyes on Carlos, who looked utterly stunned.

"I just couldn’t go on pretending I didn’t feel this way," she continued, her voice trembling. "And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. I just… I needed you to know."

Carlos took a step closer, his gaze intense, and she could see a flicker of emotion in his eyes that made her heart swell. "Y/N," he murmured, reaching for her hands. "You have no idea how much I wanted to hear you say that. I was so sure… so sure you only saw me as a friend."

Her cheeks flushed a deep red. "Carlos, I’ve had the biggest crush on you for months. You call me cariño, amor—it’s impossible not to fall for you."

He laughed softly, pulling her closer. "Well, in that case, let me say it properly." His voice softened, his gaze never leaving hers. "Te quiero, Y/N. I want you, too."

A mix of squeals and cheers erupted from the shadows as the other drivers stepped out, clapping and wiping away mock tears.

"Finally!" Daniel shouted, throwing his hands up dramatically. "Our little Y/N is all grown up!"

George pretended to dab at his eyes. "I’m not crying… it’s just… allergies."

Pierre gave her an affectionate grin, giving Carlos a nod of approval. "You better take care of her, Sainz."

Carlos laughed, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her into his side. "Don’t worry. I’ll treat her like the queen she deserves to be."

Max crossed his arms, his smile warm. "Good answer, mate. We’ve been waiting for this moment forever."

Y/N looked around at her friends, her cheeks sore from smiling. "Thank you, all of you. I couldn’t have done it without you."

Sebastian raised a pretend glass, grinning. "To Y/N and Carlos. And to all the big brothers who made this night possible."

Lando cleared his throat, looking almost sentimental as he pulled her into a quick hug. "We’re really happy for you, Y/N. But remember, if Carlos gives you any trouble, we’ll be right here."

Carlos chuckled, looking down at her with a playful smirk. "I think I have more to worry about than you do, cariño. With all these guys watching out for you, I’ll have to be on my best behavior."

"And that," Y/N said, squeezing his hand, "is exactly how I want it."

Surrounded by her friends—her family—she felt an overwhelming wave of happiness wash over her. As she looked up at Carlos, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the warmth of his gaze and the knowledge that she was exactly where she belonged.

A few years down the road, Y/N had cemented her place as the paddock’s heart and soul. Fans adored her interviews, and the teams always lit up when she was around. Being married to Carlos only added to the love everyone felt for her, and for Carlos, it made him proud—and fiercely protective.

The first few months of her pregnancy, however, had been kept tightly under wraps. Only she and Carlos knew, and they were still basking in the news in secret. But now, as she tried to hide her growing morning sickness and Carlos’s over-attentive concern, things were getting harder to keep quiet.

One morning in the paddock, Max Verstappen happened to pass by and saw Y/N doubled over, looking pale as she sat on a crate outside the Red Bull garage.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?" Max asked, concerned, immediately handing her his water bottle. "You don’t look too great."

Y/N tried to wave him off with a weak smile. "Oh, it’s nothing, Max, I just… I think it was something I ate."

"Something you ate?" he repeated, narrowing his eyes. "You’ve been saying that a lot lately."

"Just bad luck, I guess," she said, but the nausea hit her again, and she had to lean over to steady herself.

Max’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped as he pieced it together. "No way. No way. Y/N—are you…"

Y/N’s face flushed, but she couldn’t deny it, her weak smile giving her away.

"Oh my god." Max’s mouth fell open as he processed it. "Carlos got you pregnant?!"

“Shh!” Y/N whispered, glancing around in a panic. "Max, keep it down! We’re not telling people yet!"

Max clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes filling with tears. "Oh my god. Y/N, you’re pregnant." He blinked rapidly, his lips quivering as he tried to hold it together. "You’re gonna have a little Sainz?"

She bit her lip and nodded, smiling softly. “Yes. But you can’t tell anyone yet.”

Max was silent for a moment, his eyes shimmering. Then he let out a choked laugh and pulled her into a gentle hug, whispering, “I’m so happy for you. You’re gonna be the best mom, Y/N. I can already see it.”

Y/N laughed as he let her go, but not before he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Stop crying, Max,” she teased. “You’re making me want to cry, too!”

“I can’t help it,” he sniffled, looking sheepish. “This is huge! And now I have to protect you and the baby?”

“You don’t have to,” she laughed, but Max was already shaking his head.

“No, no, you don’t understand. I’m not letting you lift a finger,” he said, his face suddenly serious. “And I’m making sure Carlos does the same. You’ll have every single driver looking out for you.”

Just then, Carlos approached, his brow furrowing as he saw Max wiping at his eyes. “Max, what’s going on?”

Max pointed a stern finger at Carlos. “You, Sainz, have one job. You better take care of her and the little one. Or else…”

Carlos raised his hands, amused but wary. “I am taking care of her, Verstappen. Trust me.”

“No, not enough!” Max argued, his voice almost panicked. “She was just sitting here, pale as a ghost, and you weren’t even around!”

Y/N stifled a laugh, but Carlos just smirked, nodding in understanding. “Alright, alright, I’ll keep an even closer eye on her. Promise.”

Max softened a bit, but he wasn’t letting up. “Good. Because if anything happens to Y/N or the baby, anything, you’re answering to me. And Lando, and Pierre, and basically every guy in this paddock who cares about her.”

“Max, I think Carlos knows what he’s doing,” Y/N said, a smile playing on her lips.

Max looked between them, then grinned, his face softening. “Fine, but I’m still watching you both.” He took a deep breath, then pulled her into another hug. “I’m so, so happy for you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Max,” she whispered, hugging him back. “I think we’ll need you and the others looking out for us.”

Carlos wrapped an arm around her shoulder, giving Max a nod of gratitude. “Gracias, amigo. She’ll have all the protection she needs.”

“Good.” Max wiped his eyes one last time, giving them both a fierce nod. “Because we’re all family. And now… we’re growing.”

The Singapore Grand Prix was notorious for its blistering heat, and this year was no exception. The sweltering air clung to everyone, and for Y/N, who was visibly and heavily pregnant, it was nearly unbearable. But duty called, and the FIA insisted that she continue her scheduled interviews.

As she was setting up for another interview, the heat making her dizzy, she heard a familiar voice behind her. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” Lewis Hamilton approached her with a look of disbelief, glancing at her with concern. “You should be sitting in an air-conditioned room right now, not out here in this heat.”

“Lewis, it’s fine,” she said with a weak smile, though she was struggling. “It’s just a few interviews.”

Before he could respond, Max and Oscar joined them, both looking equally shocked.

“Are they out of their minds?” Max muttered, his face turning red with anger. “You shouldn’t be out here like this!”

“Seriously, Y/N,” Oscar added, frowning. “This isn’t safe. You’re not a machine.”

Y/N tried to brush them off, but she felt another wave of dizziness hit her. She steadied herself, but Charles had already noticed, his eyes narrowing. “That’s it,” he said firmly. “This is ridiculous. They can’t make you do this.”

“It’s okay, really—” she began, but the drivers were not having it.

Lewis crossed his arms, looking around with a sharp glare. “Who do we need to talk to? This isn’t happening, not today.”

As if on cue, a member of the FIA walked over, clipboard in hand. “Y/N, are we ready for the next interview?”

Max stepped in front of her before she could answer, his voice low and menacing. “She’s not doing any more interviews. Send someone else.”

The official frowned, clearly taken aback. “Excuse me? This is her job—”

“Yeah, and her job shouldn’t put her or her baby in danger,” Charles interjected angrily. “She’s done for the day.”

Oscar nodded in agreement. “Get someone else. This isn’t up for discussion.”

The FIA official looked bewildered, glancing at Y/N, but Lewis shot him a glare that would have stopped anyone in their tracks. “You have plenty of other reporters. Don’t make us get security involved.”

Seeing no way around it, the official nodded reluctantly. “Fine. She can go. But this will be reported.”

The drivers didn’t care; they were already surrounding Y/N protectively, guiding her towards the paddock lounge.

“Thank you, guys,” she murmured, touched by their concern. “But I can handle this, really—”

“No way,” Max cut her off, shaking his head. “Carlos would kill us if we let you stay out there in this heat.”

As they led her to the lounge, Carlos appeared, having just gotten word of what happened. His expression was a mix of relief and anger as he approached the group. “Qué demonios? Y/N, why didn’t you call me?”

Y/N shrugged, looking sheepish. “I didn’t want to bother you…”

Carlos looked ready to explode, turning to the FIA official who had followed them, probably to try and salvage the situation. “You made her work out there, in this heat, while she’s pregnant? Are you insane?”

The official held up his hands defensively. “We were just following standard protocol—”

“To hell with your protocol!” Carlos shouted, his face flushed with anger. “She’s carrying our child, and you’re risking her health for some interviews?”

“Mr. Sainz, please calm down—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Carlos snapped, switching to rapid Spanish that the official clearly didn’t understand, though the tone left no doubts about what he was saying. “This is unacceptable. Inaceptable!”

“Carlos, you’re going to get fined,” Lewis warned quietly, though he was smirking a little, clearly pleased to see someone giving the FIA a piece of their mind.

“Fine me, I don’t care,” Carlos shot back. “It’ll be worth every cent if it means they treat her properly.”

The official quickly left, muttering something about reporting this to higher-ups, but the drivers didn’t care. They were all clustered around Y/N, making sure she was comfortable as they brought her a cold towel and water.

As soon as she was settled in, Max crouched beside her, giving her a warm but firm look. “From now on, you call us if they try to make you do anything stupid again, alright?”

Y/N chuckled, touched by their fierce protectiveness. “I promise.”

Carlos sat beside her, still fuming, but his hand gently rested on her stomach, protective and calming. “If they pull anything like this again, they’ll have to deal with all of us,” he said, his tone softer but no less serious.

That night, news of Carlos’s outburst—and his subsequent fine—spread like wildfire across social media. Fans took to Twitter, trending hashtags like #ProtectY/N and #JusticeForY/N. Clips of the drivers banding together to protect her from the heat circulated, and the internet quickly turned it into a rallying cry against the FIA’s treatment of Y/N.

@F1Fanatic: "Carlos got fined for standing up for his pregnant wife, and I’m here for it. #ProtectY/N 💪🔥"

@PaddockPrincess: "Seeing all the drivers look out for Y/N is the purest thing ever. She deserves all the love 🥹❤️ #FamilyGoals #ProtectY/N"

@F1Daily: "We all knew Carlos was protective, but the way he went off on the FIA? ICONIC. #JusticeForY/N"

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she scrolled through the support from fans, all of whom felt like an extended family. With Carlos by her side, and a whole paddock of brothers watching over her, she knew she and her baby would be safe, no matter what.

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its-avalon-08 · 15 days ago

Note

Hi, could you do a Ferando angst to fluff fic where he and Reader have been dating since his return to F1 and he is frustrated with the team's current season and the reader tries to assure him that everything is going be better and he takes his frustration out on her and they have an argument to the point where he calls her by his ex's name and with that she gives up on continuing the argument and locks herself in the guest room while crying and rethinking their entire relationship, while he tries to apologize and is unsuccessful and goes out to cool his head, and after she woke up, she packs some bags to travel to her modeling gig but before leaving, even though she is sad with his attitude, leaves a note saying that she needs some time to think and that she will be traveling for work so that he doesn't worry thinking that it was all over between them. And during this time, Fernando feels guilty for taking out his frustrations on the person who was always by his side and tries in every way to win Reader back and try to work on their relationship. When the news comes out that he doesn't feel well, Reader gets worried about what might have happened to him and comes back early and takes care of him. In addition to him apologizing for being an idiot and promising to work on their relationship more and not let the frustrations with the team affect their relationship. When his 400th race arrives, he thanks her for being there for him through the good and bad times and tells her how important she is to him.

don't run away (fa2)

✦ pairing - fernando alonso x female!reader

✦ genre - ansgt, ansgt, ansgt, tears, calling ex's name

It started slowly, subtle shifts in Fernando’s demeanor that crept in like shadows. At first, it was nothing that couldn’t be shrugged off—the usual frustrations of a tough season. But as the races wore on and the team struggled to deliver consistent results, his patience began to unravel.

At the garage, he’d be fine in the morning, shaking hands with the engineers, throwing a nod to the mechanics. But as soon as a practice session went poorly or a technical issue cropped up, his mood would turn. He’d clench his jaw, mutter under his breath in Spanish, and become more withdrawn, his usual intensity morphing into something harsher.

Y/N noticed it the most at home. After every disappointing race or qualifying session, he’d come back and barely say a word. The warm, easygoing Fernando she loved was gradually being replaced by a man who was angry, stressed, and constantly on edge.

One evening, after a particularly bad qualifying, Fernando slammed the door to their apartment harder than usual. Y/N looked up from the book she was reading on the couch, catching sight of his dark, stormy expression.

“Hey, you’re home,” she greeted gently, hoping to lift his spirits. She stood up, reaching out to him, but he just sighed, brushing past her and heading straight for the kitchen.

She followed him, watching as he poured himself a glass of water, his movements sharp and frustrated.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked cautiously, hoping he’d let her in.

He shook his head, barely glancing at her. “Nothing to talk about,” he muttered. “It’s just the same issues over and over again. They promise they’ll fix it, and nothing changes. I’m just wasting my time out there.”

She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Maybe it’s just a rough patch? I’m sure the team’s doing everything they can—”

“Are they?” he interrupted, his tone sharp. He set his glass down with a little too much force, the sound echoing in the quiet kitchen. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. Feels like I’m out there driving my heart out for nothing.”

Y/N took a step closer, trying to ease the tension. “Fernando, it’s not for nothing. You’re doing your best, and that’s what matters.”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “What’s the point of my best if it doesn’t get me anywhere? I can’t keep doing this, Y/N. It’s exhausting.”

She reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “I know, cariño. But I’m here for you, okay? We’ll get through this together.”

But instead of softening, he pulled his arm away, exasperation flashing in his eyes. “What do you mean ‘we’? I’m the one putting in the work, putting myself on the line out there. You don’t understand, Y/N—you don’t know what it’s like to be stuck in this situation, giving everything and getting nothing in return.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the sting of his words hitting her. She took a small step back, giving him space. “I may not be out there with you,” she said softly, “but I know how much you care about this. I’m only trying to help.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” But even as he apologized, he didn’t meet her eyes. The tension lingered between them, unspoken and heavy.

In the days that followed, the distance between them grew. Fernando started coming home later and later, throwing himself into extra training or staying at the garage long after everyone else had gone. At home, he was irritable, snapping over the smallest things, and often retreating to his study, leaving Y/N alone to wonder what she could do to help.

One evening, as she prepared dinner, she heard him sigh loudly from the living room. She walked over, trying once more to bring him out of his gloom.

“Do you want to talk about the race debrief?” she asked, offering a hopeful smile.

Fernando looked up from his phone, a frown creasing his brow. “Not really, no.”

“But maybe if you let it out, it’ll—”

“Y/N, I don’t need a pep talk right now,” he snapped, his voice cold and clipped. “I’m not a child who needs consoling every time something goes wrong.”

Her face fell, and she took a step back, the hurt evident in her eyes. “I just… I want to be here for you, Fernando. That’s all.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through his hair. “Well, maybe I need space right now. Maybe I just want to deal with this on my own without someone trying to fix everything all the time.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. She opened her mouth to respond but stopped herself, pressing her lips together as she nodded, retreating back to the kitchen, her heart aching.

As the weeks went by, their conversations became shorter, stilted. The vibrant, passionate Fernando she knew was slipping away, replaced by a man consumed by frustration and self-doubt. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to reach him, to pull him out of the storm he was drowning in.

Each night, she would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what else she could do, how she could bridge the growing gap between them. But every morning, she would wake up to see him leave earlier, come back later, and pull away even more.

The man who used to laugh with her, who would dance around the kitchen with her, who whispered sweet nothings in her ear, had been buried under layers of anger and exhaustion. And as much as she tried to hold on, she could feel him slipping away.

The dim lights cast a soft glow over the living room as Y/N leaned against the edge of the kitchen counter, watching Fernando. She could see the frustration in his face, the tense set of his jaw as he rubbed his temples, his posture rigid with the weight of the latest race. She wanted to comfort him, to reassure him that it would get better, but every word she’d tried earlier had been met with a wall of silence.

“Fernando,” she began softly, inching closer. “You know, this season is just a rough patch. You've faced so much worse and come back stronger every time. You’re going to—”

“Y/N, stop.” Fernando’s voice came out sharper than he intended, and his eyes darkened with an intensity that made her heart falter. “You don’t understand. It’s not just a rough patch. This whole season has been a disaster, and every race, it feels like I'm just fighting against nothing. Nothing is working.”

“I do understand, though,” she insisted gently, keeping her voice calm. “I know how much it hurts. But it’s not all on you. The team is trying, you’re trying—”

“Trying?” he scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “It doesn’t matter if I’m trying. No one cares if I try. All they care about is results, and right now, I can’t give them that. So what’s the point?”

“The point is that you’ve always been a fighter,” Y/N said, feeling a swell of frustration herself. “You’ve never been the kind of person to just give up. But here you are, acting like—”

“Oh, please, spare me the motivational speech!” Fernando snapped, his voice rising. “Do you think I haven’t heard all of this before? Do you think any of it actually helps?”

“I'm just trying to be here for you, Fernando!” she replied, her voice breaking slightly. “You’re pushing everyone away, and I’m the only one left standing. Do you want to push me away, too?”

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, looking away, a storm brewing in his gaze. “You’re just…you’re just making it worse. Every time you say these things, it’s like you’re pretending that everything’s fine when it isn’t. Nothing is fine!”

Y/N felt her own frustration boiling over. “Maybe I’m trying to remind you that you’re not alone, Fernando. You’re not the only one going through this. I’m here with you—whether you want to believe it or not.”

But Fernando only shook his head, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. “Sometimes I think you’re better off without me. I mean, do you even know what this life is like? You see a bad race, and you think it’s just one bad day. But it’s a thousand bad days for me, and I’m just—”

“Don’t you dare,” she interrupted, her voice trembling. “Don’t you dare tell me that I don’t know. I’ve stood by you through everything. I know what it’s like to feel helpless, but I’m still here!”

Fernando’s frustration boiled over, and in his anger, he didn’t think before he spoke. “Lara, why don’t you just—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening as the name fell from his lips. Y/N’s breath hitched, her face going pale as his words sank in.

The room went silent, an uncomfortable, suffocating silence. She stared at him, her expression crumbling as the hurt flashed across her face. “What did you just call me?”

Fernando’s face contorted with regret, realizing his mistake too late. “Y/N…I—”

“No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You called me by her name.”

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to…” he stammered, reaching out for her. “I’m sorry, I was just frustrated, and—”

But she stepped back, hurt and disbelief etched across her face. “I get it now. This whole time, you’ve been here with me, but your mind has been somewhere else. You’re so caught up in the past that you can’t even see who’s standing right in front of you.”

“Don’t say that,” Fernando said desperately, reaching for her again, but she shook her head, pulling away.

“Enough,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’ve tried so hard to be there for you, but all I get is anger and resentment. And now, this?” She wiped at a tear that had slipped down her cheek, the betrayal and heartache painted on her face. “I don’t deserve this.”

“Y/N, please, just let me explain,” he pleaded, but she was already walking away.

“No, I don’t want to hear it.” Her voice was cold, a kind of finality in it that stung more than any words she’d said before. “I’m done trying to be someone I’m not just to keep you from falling apart. I’m done being your emotional punching bag.”

Before he could say anything else, she disappeared into the guest room, locking the door behind her. Fernando stood there, his heart pounding, staring at the closed door, helpless.

Inside the guest room, Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of everything crash down on her. The tears came quickly, her hands shaking as she clutched the edge of the bedspread, trying to steady herself. How had they gotten here? She thought they’d been building something together, a real future, but now…it all felt like a lie. The moment he’d called her by his ex’s name, something had shattered, leaving her questioning everything she’d fought for in their relationship.

Outside, Fernando leaned against the door, guilt eating away at him as he listened to her quiet sobs. He’d hurt the one person who’d been by his side, and he didn’t know how to fix it. Taking a shaky breath, he turned away, walking out of the apartment to get some air, feeling the cold night air hit him as he tried to gather his thoughts.

For the first time in years, Fernando Alonso didn’t know how to move forward.

Y/N drifted into a fitful sleep, her body curled up on the guest room bed, clutching the pillow as if it were the only thing holding her together. The tears had left her drained, her face stained with evidence of a night spent questioning everything she thought they had together. She wanted to understand, wanted to find a way to reconcile his words and the ache in her chest, but sleep took her in spite of herself, leaving her mind restless.

Morning light filtered in through the guest room window, waking her. She felt the heavy weight of last night pressing down, her heart sinking all over again as she remembered his voice, the name that had slipped from his lips so carelessly.

It was just a name…he was just frustrated…but why does it feel like so much more?

Y/N rubbed at her swollen eyes, steeling herself as she got up. She had a modeling gig that she needed to get to, and she couldn't afford to miss it—not with the way things felt so uncertain now. She packed a small bag quietly, not wanting to disturb Fernando if he was still in the apartment. Every item she folded and placed in her bag felt like a part of her heart being stored away, her resolve hardening with each piece of clothing.

Before she left, she hesitated, her eyes flickering to the empty hallway. She didn't want to leave him without a word—despite everything, she still cared. Maybe he thinks it’s over, she thought, and that hurt more than anything else. Taking a pen and paper, she jotted down a quick note and left it on the kitchen counter, pausing to reread it before setting it down.

"Fernando, I’m going to take some time for myself. I have work I need to focus on, and I think we both need to clear our heads. I’m not leaving for good, but I need time to think about us, and I hope you understand that. I’ll be back, but please don’t contact me until I’m ready to talk. – Y/N"

She sighed, setting down the note with a shaky hand. Her chest felt heavy, but this was what she needed—to find clarity, to decide if she could really keep standing by his side after last night. With one last glance around the apartment, she walked out, closing the door softly behind her.

Fernando woke up in the early afternoon, his body tense and aching from a restless night on the couch. His first thought was Y/N, and his heart jumped, the events of the previous night flooding back to him in harsh detail. What have I done? The regret clawed at him, a pit in his stomach as he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face.

"Y/N?" he called out, hoping to see her emerge from the hallway, maybe tired and sad but willing to listen. But only silence greeted him. He stood, feeling a pang of panic as he checked the guest room, finding it empty.

His breathing grew shallow as he checked the closet, noticing a few empty hangers. "No…no, please…" He murmured, his voice trembling as he moved to the living room, scanning the apartment frantically, hoping she’d left a sign she was still there.

I pushed her too far. I let my anger get the best of me, and now…she’s gone. He felt like the air had been knocked out of him as the full weight of her absence hit.

His eyes fell to the kitchen counter, where a small piece of paper caught his attention. Heart pounding, he reached for it, hands shaking as he read the words. Each line hit him with fresh regret, and when he finished, his vision blurred as tears filled his eyes.

"She needs time…" he whispered aloud, choking on his words. He gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to steady himself. I’ve hurt her so much that she needs time away from me just to think.

“Oh, Y/N…” he muttered, a tear slipping down his cheek as he sank into the nearest chair. The silence of the apartment felt like a punishment, a void that reminded him of everything he’d done to push her away.

He sat there, re-reading the note over and over, each word deepening the ache in his chest. His mind replayed the argument, every hurtful thing he’d said, and the look on her face when he’d called her by his ex’s name.

How could I have been so stupid? He ran a hand through his hair, the anguish in his chest tightening as he thought of her walking out, feeling like she had no choice but to leave him to clear her head. She deserved so much better…

He looked around, every corner of the apartment filled with memories of her laughter, her warmth. And now, it felt hollow, like the walls themselves were mourning her absence. Unable to sit still, he stood and paced, the weight of his own mistake pressing down on him.

"How did I let it get to this?" he asked himself, voice thick with self-reproach. She’s been nothing but supportive, and I repaid her with anger. I don’t deserve her forgiveness…I don’t even know if she’ll give it to me.

He stopped by the window, looking out at the city. Somewhere out there, Y/N was hurting, questioning everything they’d built. And he knew it was his fault. His stubborn pride, his inability to let her in, his habit of lashing out when he felt vulnerable—it had all led to this moment.

With a deep, shaky breath, he turned from the window, heading toward the door. He needed to clear his mind, to think about how to make things right. But the image of her walking out—of her packing her bags, her face streaked with tears—kept flashing in his mind.

As he stepped outside, he felt the sting of the cold air, but it didn’t ease the ache in his heart. He looked out over the city, a painful emptiness settling over him. He’d give anything to take it all back, to undo the damage he’d caused.

Please, Y/N, he thought, his heart aching with the silent plea. Please come back to me. But he knew that it would take more than words to earn her trust again. It would take everything he had to prove he was worth her forgiveness—if she ever gave him the chance.

---

Fernando found himself increasingly consumed by regret. Every memory of Y/N seemed like a stark reminder of the mistake he’d made, the pain he’d inflicted on her. Days passed with each one stretching longer than the last, the empty apartment a shell of what it had been with her in it. He left countless messages, each one a little more desperate than the last.

“Y/N…I know I hurt you. And I’m not asking you to forgive me overnight, but please…just let me know you’re okay.” His voice cracked in one message, the anguish evident in his words.

Her responses, when they came, were brief, polite, and guarded—keeping him at arm’s length in a way that hurt almost as much as the silence had.

“I'm fine, Fernando. Just busy with work.”

“Right, of course. But…are we okay? I just want to hear it from you…”

“Let’s talk when I’m back, okay?”

Every short reply felt like another wall between them, a reminder that she was still hurting and far from ready to forgive him. Fernando didn’t blame her; he knew he’d have to be patient. But it was hard, agonizingly so.

He threw himself into his training, hoping that the physical exhaustion would numb the relentless guilt. But even that wasn’t enough. The sleepless nights, the endless thoughts of Y/N, and the crushing weight of his actions left him feeling drained.

One afternoon, Carlos caught him alone in the paddock, noticing the dark circles under Fernando's eyes and the gaunt look that had taken over his usually vibrant face.

“Fernando,” Carlos said sternly, pulling him aside, “when was the last time you actually took care of yourself?”

Fernando shrugged, forcing a smirk. “I’m fine, Carlos.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Carlos replied sharply. “You look terrible, man. Everyone’s noticed. You need to get a grip before you make yourself sick.”

“I made a mess of things with Y/N, Carlos. It’s… it’s all I can think about,” Fernando admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And she’s still so far away. I’ve apologized a hundred times, but… nothing feels like enough.”

Carlos shook his head, looking exasperated. “You called her by your ex’s name. Do you even understand how hurt she must be? She trusted you, Fernando! You don’t get to brush that off with a few messages.”

Fernando closed his eyes, the guilt clawing at him even harder. “I know,” he murmured, voice trembling. “I know I don’t deserve her forgiveness. But Carlos…I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“Then start acting like it,” Carlos said, his tone unforgiving. “You can’t change what you did, but you can show her you’ll never make that mistake again.”

A few days later, Fernando was in the team garage when George Russell and Carmen happened to walk by. Carmen, who’d always been warm and friendly to him, gave him a sympathetic look but quickly turned stern.

“Fernando, have you talked to Y/N recently?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“She’s…abroad for work,” he answered, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Carmen shook her head, visibly disappointed. “If you really care about her, then show her, Fernando. She’s heartbroken, and all she needed was for you to be there for her. Instead, you hurt her when she was already struggling to support you.”

George placed a hand on Fernando’s shoulder. “Mate, I know things have been rough with the team, but that’s no excuse to hurt the person who’s always by your side. You need to make it right before it’s too late.”

Fernando swallowed hard, feeling his chest tighten as he absorbed their words. He could hardly argue with them; everything they were saying was the truth he didn’t want to face. They’re right. I’ve been selfish. I hurt her because I couldn’t handle my own issues.

Days continued to drag on, and Fernando’s health began to falter. The sleepless nights and relentless anxiety started to wear on him, his usually fit frame looking leaner and more frail. He was haunted by the image of her teary eyes, of her silent, pained expression before she’d shut herself away.

One evening, back at the apartment, Fernando felt the full weight of his actions settle onto him. The walls seemed to close in, the empty rooms echoing with memories of her laughter, her voice, her presence. A sudden wave of panic gripped him, the guilt and fear crashing over him like a tidal wave.

What if she never comes back? The thought stabbed through him, cutting deeper than anything he’d felt before.

His breathing grew shallow, and he clutched his chest, trying to force air into his lungs, but it was like his entire body was fighting him. He staggered, clutching the edge of the counter, vision blurring as he struggled to calm himself.

“Y/N…” he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible. He could almost see her face, feel her hand resting gently on his shoulder, grounding him. But it was just a cruel trick of his mind, and the reality of her absence hit harder than ever.

His knees buckled, and he sank to the floor, gasping for air, his heart racing uncontrollably. I can’t lose her. I can’t…

The world started to fade, his mind slipping into darkness as exhaustion finally took over, and he drifted into a fitful, troubled sleep right there on the cold floor.

---

Y/N’s heart raced as she read the headlines scrolling across her phone screen. Fernando Alonso unwell; concerns raised over health. Panic gripped her, sending a jolt through her entire body. She hadn’t been prepared for this; she’d known he was struggling, but to hear it from the outside world felt like a gut punch.

What happened? Is he okay? She quickly gathered her things, her modeling gig suddenly forgotten. There was only one thing that mattered now: getting back to him.

The flight home felt endless, each second ticking by as worry gnawed at her insides. She replayed their last argument over and over, the way he’d called her by his ex’s name, the look of frustration on his face. What if I was too harsh? What if he really needed me and I wasn’t there for him?

I need to be there for him now. I need to make it right.

When she finally stepped through the door of their apartment, the sight before her made her heart drop. The place was dimly lit, cluttered with remnants of his solitary life. Empty takeout containers littered the kitchen counter, and the living room looked like it hadn’t been touched in days. But what sent her racing was the faint sound of him coughing in the back room.

“Fernando!” she called out, fear tightening her throat as she rushed through the hallway. She burst into their bedroom to find him lying on the bed, pale and visibly weak, his body covered with a thin sheen of sweat.

“Y/N?” He squinted up at her, confusion and relief mixing in his eyes.

“Oh, amor,” she breathed, rushing to his side. “What happened? Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this bad?”

He shook his head slightly, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t want you to worry. I thought… it would pass.”

“Stop it,” she said firmly, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “You should’ve called me. You need me.” Her fingers brushed against his skin, the heat radiating from him unsettling her even more. “I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

Y/N quickly moved around the room, gathering supplies—blankets, water, and a few medications she hoped would help him. She set the pillows just right, adjusting them to support his head, feeling an overwhelming need to create a safe space for him.

“Y/N, really, I’m fine,” he murmured weakly, though the tremor in his voice contradicted his words.

“No, you’re not,” she replied, her heart aching at the sight of him. “You look terrible.”

Fernando offered a small smile, the kind that made her heart flutter, but it quickly faded. “I’m sorry for everything, for how I treated you…”

“Don’t. Right now, let’s focus on getting you better.” She poured him a glass of water, carefully lifting his head so he could drink. “I’m here, Fernando. I’m not going anywhere.”

After a few sips, he leaned back against the pillows, looking a little more relaxed but still so vulnerable. “You’re really here.”

“Of course, I am,” she reassured him, her voice softening. “I was worried sick. I don’t care how far away I was; I always want to be there for you. You’re my everything.”

He looked at her with gratitude shining in his tired eyes. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You do,” she insisted, brushing her fingers along his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath them. “You’ve always been there for me, and I want to be here for you now. You just need to rest, okay?”

I can’t believe how weak he looks, Y/N thought, panic surging through her as she watched him close his eyes. What if he doesn’t get better? What if I lose him because I wasn’t there?

“Y/N?” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “Stay with me?”

“Always,” she replied immediately, crawling into bed beside him. She curled up next to him, feeling his warmth seep into her. “Just relax, cariño. I’m right here.”

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as his breathing began to steady. “I missed you so much,” he confessed, voice still weak but laced with affection.

“I missed you too,” she murmured, burying her face against his shoulder. “You have no idea how much. Just promise me you’ll let me take care of you from now on.”

“Promise,” he said softly, closing his eyes again. “I’m sorry for everything. For pushing you away… for everything.”

Y/N felt tears prick her eyes, a mix of relief and love swelling within her. “We’ll get through this together, I swear. Just let me love you the way you deserve, okay?”

He nodded slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You have no idea how much I need that right now.”

As they lay together, the tension from before began to ease, replaced by a soothing warmth that enveloped them. For the first time in days, she felt hope creeping back in, even if it was just a flicker. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but as long as they had each other, she believed they could face anything.

----

A few days later, Fernando was back on his feet. He still moved a little slower, a little cautiously, but the spark in his eyes had returned. However, it didn’t take long before he noticed Y/N moving sluggishly around the apartment, her face pale, and her usual energy dimmed.

“Amor,” he murmured, catching her as she stumbled slightly in the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

Y/N gave a half-hearted smile, trying to wave it off. “I’m fine, really. Probably just tired from flying back so soon.”

He narrowed his eyes, feeling her forehead. “You’re warm. And you look exhausted.”

“Well, I did just take care of you around the clock,” she teased lightly, giving him a small, weak smile.

“That’s it,” he said firmly, gently steering her toward the couch. “You’re officially off duty.”

Y/N laughed but didn’t fight him, too tired to resist. She sat down, wrapping herself in the blanket he brought her as he hovered nearby, his expression filled with worry.

“Seriously, Fernando, I’m fine. Just a little tired,” she insisted.

“Oh no, don’t even try that on me,” he replied, shaking his head as he settled next to her. “I know exactly how this feels, and you’ve definitely caught whatever I had.”

Y/N sighed, closing her eyes. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Stay here,” he commanded softly, a warm smile crossing his face. “Doctor Alonso is on duty now.”

She gave him a skeptical look but relaxed into the couch, her eyelids fluttering shut as he went to the kitchen. Soon, he was back with a tray of tea, soup, and medicine. She opened one eye, watching as he set it all down, his brow creased with concentration.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make soup,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t look so shocked,” he chuckled. “I picked it up somewhere along the way. Or maybe I just have some natural talent you didn’t know about.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Alright, Mr. Multitalented. I’m impressed.”

He grinned, but his smile quickly softened into something more serious. “Y/N, about everything… I know I messed up. You shouldn’t have to bear the brunt of my frustrations.”

“Fernando…”

“No, let me say this,” he interrupted gently, reaching out to take her hand. “You were there for me through everything, even when I didn’t deserve it. I can’t believe I put my own issues onto you.”

Her gaze softened, and she squeezed his hand. “You were going through a lot, Fernando. I get it. But, yeah… it hurt.”

A shadow of regret passed over his face, and he moved closer, looking into her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry, Y/N. I promise I won’t let my issues with the team or anything else come between us again. From now on, you’re my priority.”

She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “I just needed to hear that.”

He kissed her hand, looking at her earnestly. “You’re my everything, amor. And I’ll prove it to you every day if I have to.”

She laughed softly, despite herself. “Starting with the soup?”

“Exactly,” he grinned, placing the bowl in her hands. “I don’t make soup for just anyone, you know.”

“Special treatment,” she murmured, taking a small sip. “And here I thought I’d never see the day.”

He chuckled, settling beside her and tucking the blanket around her shoulders. “This is just the beginning. I’ve got a whole recovery plan for you.”

“Oh really?” she teased, snuggling into the blanket as he adjusted it.

“Absolutely. This recovery plan includes lots of soup, endless tea, and, of course…” He paused, flashing her a cheeky smile. “As many cuddles as you can handle.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “Thank you for coming back to me,” he murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you for letting me,” she replied, her voice warm with affection.

They stayed that way, wrapped in each other’s arms, as he continued to whisper apologies and promises between gentle reassurances. For now, it was enough to be together, to know that they would face everything side by side.

---

The grandstands buzzed with energy as fans poured into the circuit, filling the air with an electric anticipation. It was a monumental day for Fernando—his 400th race. Cameras flashed, fans cheered, and the world celebrated this milestone with him. But as the day progressed, the weight of it all settled in a different way. It wasn’t just the years of racing, the trophies, or the fame. It was the realization of who had stood by him, through every twist and turn, every high and low. And there she was, watching him from the edge of the paddock with that warm smile that always calmed him.

When he finally had a free moment, he pulled her into one of the quieter corners of the team lounge, away from the flashing lights and the hustle around them.

“Y/N…” he began, taking her hands in his, his thumbs brushing gently over her knuckles. His voice softened, the usual edge in it replaced with something deeper, something raw. “I know today is all about my racing, my 400th, but I don’t want it to pass without telling you something.”

She tilted her head, curiosity shining in her eyes. “What is it, Fernando?”

He took a breath, collecting his thoughts. “I’ve had so many people supporting me over the years, but no one—not a single person—has been there for me like you have. I mean… I’ve never been an easy person to be with. I’m… difficult,” he admitted with a small, self-conscious laugh. “But you… you’ve handled every bit of it with so much patience, so much love.”

Her eyes softened, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I told you, Fernando. I’m here for you, no matter what. I always have been.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. “But I didn’t realize what that really meant until this year. I’ve taken so much out on you, especially when things got hard with the team. And somehow, you stayed.”

“Of course, I did,” she whispered, her voice a mix of reassurance and affection. “I knew who you were from the beginning, and I chose to be by your side. I wouldn’t change that for anything.”

Fernando swallowed, feeling his throat tighten. He glanced down, a faint smile appearing on his face as he collected himself. “You’re so much stronger than me, you know that?” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I might be the one driving out there, but you’re the one who keeps me going. You’re my strength, Y/N.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down for a moment, visibly touched by his words. “You’re going to make me cry,” she teased, her voice thick with emotion.

He reached up, gently lifting her chin so their eyes met again. “I mean it. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I don’t even want to think about it.” He paused, gathering his thoughts as he tried to put everything he felt into words. “You’re my everything. You make all of this worth it, the good times, the bad times. Every single lap, every race… knowing you’re there for me makes it all feel complete.”

“Fernando…” she whispered, her voice wavering as tears pricked her eyes.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Thank you for being here, for being you. For seeing the best in me even when I’m at my worst.” He held her close, his hand gently cradling the back of her head. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder as she took in his words. “I love you, Fernando. And I’m so proud of you—of everything you’ve achieved, and the person you are. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

He leaned back slightly, his eyes glistening as he looked down at her. “I’m proud too, you know. Not just of this career, but of the fact that you’re here with me, sharing this moment. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough.”

Y/N smiled, reaching up to gently cup his cheek. “Just keep being you. That’s all I need.”

He laughed softly, leaning into her touch. “Deal. And for the record, I’ll try my best to keep my temper in check.”

“Good,” she chuckled. “I’ll be right here to remind you if you forget.”

He smiled, bending down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I know you will, cariño. And that’s exactly how I want it to be.”

In that quiet moment, with the noise of the race buzzing around them, they stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, two people who’d weathered storms together and come out stronger. Fernando knew that this race—this milestone—was only the beginning, and he couldn’t wait to keep going, with her by his side every step of the way.

#fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x female reader #fernando alonso x you #fa14 #fa14 x reader #fa14 imagine #aston martin #mcalren #formula 1 #f1 imagine #formula one #red bull racing #y/n #fia

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its-avalon-08 · 16 days ago

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Could you do a Lando one where he and reader have been together since the beginning of his F1 career and during the current season, where he has a chance to compete for the championship against Verstappen and since he won his first race, reader slowly realizes how distant and focused on winning the drivers' championship he is becoming from her and his fans along with the media also realize this, and after he has a chance to win the race and reduce the advantage against Max, she finally confronts him and they have an argument to the point where he tells her that she is being a distraction and that they should break up and she agrees and packs her things and leaves for Carlos' house for a while and Carlos and Rebecca comfort her and let her stay as long as necessary. And weeks after that, everyone realizes how sad Lando is and sees that Reader is no longer present with him at the races and he sees the stupidity he did due to the pressure he is under and tries in every way to talk to Reader and asking her for a second chance, but to no avail. And when Lando loses the championship, he admits to everyone what an idiot he was for letting the pressure of competing for the title end the most important thing in his life, which is his relationship, and mentions that Reader has always been through his ups and downs and that he only asks that if Reader is watching that interview, she forgive him. And days later, when he returns to Monaco, he hears someone knocking on the door and he opens it and sees Reader with tears in her eyes saying that she saw his interview and that she forgives him

i love u anon I LOVE U

the sound of the woman that loves you (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, neglect

The paddock was buzzing with energy, cameras flashing as media and fans swarmed the track, but Lando Norris walked through it all with a focused, unbreakable gaze. Y/N, his girlfriend of six years, was standing on the sidelines, arms crossed tightly. She knew this season was different – the stakes were higher, and Lando had a real shot at the championship, but something else felt different, too.

She gave him a small wave as he approached, expecting the usual grin, maybe even a quick hug. Instead, he nodded at her, barely slowing his stride.

“Good luck out there, Lando,” she called, keeping her voice light.

He looked back briefly. “Thanks. I need to get to the garage.” And with that, he disappeared into the McLaren motorhome, leaving Y/N in the midst of a crowd of curious onlookers.

She glanced at her phone, scrolling through Twitter to distract herself.

@F1Fanatic2024: “Anyone else feel like Lando's been acting… different lately? He’s so much more serious these days. Miss the old Norris 😕 #ItalianGP” @NorrisNation: “Gotta be the championship pressure. But I miss seeing him and Y/N together, they were always so cute! Now he barely even looks her way… #Monza”

Y/N sighed. The fans weren’t the only ones who noticed. She felt it every day. Since his first win in Silverstone, Lando seemed to have put on a new armor, impenetrable and distant. At first, she chalked it up to the pressure of being a real championship contender, but recently, it felt like there was something more.

Later, In the McLaren Motorhome

“Lando,” she called, poking her head into his team room after qualifying.

He barely looked up from his notes. “Yeah?”

Y/N hesitated. “I thought… maybe we could grab dinner tonight? You know, relax a bit before the race tomorrow?”

He didn’t even pause, scribbling something down. “Sorry, can’t. I have to go over data with the engineers.”

“Oh… okay. Maybe after the race?”

“If it goes well, sure.” He finally looked up, flashing a tight smile. “If I’m going to have any chance at catching up to Max, I can’t waste time right now.”

Her heart sank. She managed a weak smile back. “Of course. I understand.”

But it was hard to ignore the shift. They’d been through so much together, from his first race to his first podium. She remembered the nights they’d stayed up in hotel rooms talking about their dreams and fears. Now, it felt like she was just another face in the paddock.

Race Day

Lando finished second, close on Max’s heels, reducing the gap in the standings. His fans erupted on social media.

@F1Racer2024: “YESSSS! That’s how you do it, Lando! One step closer to the championship!! #TeamLando” @NorrisY/N_Fanpage: “Does anyone else miss the times when Lando would celebrate with Y/N after every race? She was his biggest cheerleader… what happened? 🥺”

As Lando stepped off the podium, Y/N waited in the sidelines, her heart racing. She expected him to come over like he used to, the way he would spot her instantly and pull her into a hug, podium champagne still dripping off him. But instead, he went straight to the team, surrounded by cameras and fans. She stood there, watching, a bit more alone than she’d felt before.

Eventually, he made his way over to her, but even then, it felt rushed.

“Good race,” she said, smiling up at him, hoping to capture a moment of the old Lando.

He nodded, barely slowing down. “Yeah, thanks. Still gotta catch Max, though. Can’t celebrate too much yet.”

She reached out, touching his arm gently. “Lando, you did amazing today. Can we just… have a moment? Just you and me?”

He shifted uncomfortably, glancing around. “I can’t right now, Y/N. There’s so much at stake.”

Her face fell, but she nodded. “Right. Of course.”

That Night – Hotel Room

Y/N lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the distance between them like a canyon. She reached for her phone, scrolling through the usual F1 fan accounts and updates, and her heart sank a little further as she read the latest tweets.

@RacingGirl2024: “Remember when Lando used to bring Y/N to all the team celebrations? Now it’s all business with him. #MissThem” @LandoF1Updates: “Lando’s chasing that championship with everything he’s got, but is it just me, or has he left everything else behind? #FocusedButDistant”

She knew it wasn’t just her imagination – everyone saw it. She missed the days when Lando had room in his life for them both, but lately, it seemed like racing was the only thing on his mind.

The door creaked open as Lando finally came in. He looked exhausted, eyes tired and a bit dull, but still carrying the spark of his competitive spirit.

“You’re still awake?” he murmured, slipping off his jacket.

“Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lip. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but seeing his drained face, she hesitated. “I just… I miss you, Lando.”

He stopped, giving her an unreadable look. “I’m right here, Y/N.”

“Not really,” she said softly, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like… you’ve already left.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… I need to focus right now, okay? This could be my only shot at the championship.”

“I get that, Lando. I’ve always supported you – you know that. But… I didn’t think it would mean losing you.”

He looked down, unable to meet her gaze. “I haven’t gone anywhere, Y/N. Just… give me some time, yeah? This is important to me.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. I’ll be here. I just hope you remember who was there from the start.”

Social Media – Post-Race Reactions

@FormulaHeartbreaks: “Watching Y/N trying to celebrate with Lando and him brushing her off… that hurt to watch 😔 #StayStrongY/N” @WDCdreams: “Lando’s transformation this season is insane – but I’m scared he’s pushing everyone he loves away. Hope he doesn’t regret it #FocusCanCost”

As she lay next to him in the dark, Y/N wondered how much further he was willing to go for this dream – and whether, by the end of it, there would still be room in his life for them.

---

two weeks later – Lando’s Apartment

It had been two weeks of tense silences and brief conversations, filled with polite distance but nothing of the warmth that once defined them. Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Tonight, they were supposed to have dinner together after weeks of being apart, but Lando was, as always, late. She glanced at the clock, her stomach churning with frustration.

When the door finally opened, Lando walked in, not even bothering to look up as he set his keys down and shrugged off his jacket.

“You’re late,” she said quietly, trying to keep her voice steady.

He sighed, barely glancing at her. “Yeah, the engineers needed me to stay a bit longer. We’re testing some new upgrades for next week’s race.”

“Of course,” she muttered, shaking her head.

He finally looked up, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that everything – the team, the races, the data – comes before us now,” she replied, her voice beginning to shake. “You’ve been ignoring me, Lando. Fuck, I barely recognize you anymore.”

He rolled his eyes. “Y/N, we’ve talked about this. I’m so close to the championship. I thought you, of all people, would understand that.”

“I do understand that,” she snapped. “I’ve always been there for you. But you’re acting like I don’t exist. You barely even look at me anymore. Do you realize how painful that is?”

“Painful?” He scoffed. “It’s not like I’m doing anything to you. I’m just focused on something that matters to me right now.”

“What about me?” she cried, her voice cracking. “What about us?”

He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching as he looked away. “Y/N, I don’t have time for this right now.”

Her eyes stung as she fought to hold back tears. “You don’t have time for me,” she whispered. “You have time for everything else – every meeting, every media obligation – but when it comes to me, there’s nothing.”

“Y/N,” he started, his voice low and almost warning, “if you’re so unhappy, maybe you should go. I can’t keep worrying about how you’re feeling when I have this much on the line.”

She blinked, shocked, the tears finally spilling over. “You’re saying I’m a burden? After everything, I’m just… just in the way?”

He threw his hands up, exasperated. “You’re becoming a distraction, Y/N! I can’t focus when you’re constantly upset with me. I need to be 100% in this championship, and right now, I can’t be that with you here, making me feel guilty for every second I spend away from you!”

Y/N’s lip trembled as she tried to hold herself together. “So, what then? We just… end it? Just like that?”

He didn’t answer, just looked away, his face hard and distant. It was the coldest expression she had ever seen on him.

“Fine,” she whispered, nodding to herself. She walked into the bedroom, her hands shaking as she grabbed her suitcase and started packing. Every shirt, every little trinket that she had brought into his space felt like it was mocking her. She heard him pacing outside the room but couldn’t bring herself to stop.

When she emerged, suitcase in hand, he was standing there, arms crossed, face unreadable. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the silence thicker than it had ever been.

“So that’s it then?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Six years, and you can just let it all go for this one shot?”

He didn’t answer, and that hurt more than anything he could have said.

She laughed bitterly, wiping her tears. “I hope this championship is everything you dreamed of, Lando. Because it’s all you’re going to have left.” She pushed past him, tears blurring her vision as she walked out of the apartment, her heart shattering with every step.

Later – Carlos and Rebecca’s House

Y/N knocked, and before she could even drop her hand, the door flew open. Carlos’s concerned face immediately softened when he saw her red-rimmed eyes and trembling figure.

“Oh, Y/N…” he whispered, pulling her into a tight hug. She broke down completely, her sobs muffled against his shoulder. Rebecca joined them in the doorway, gently rubbing Y/N’s back as she let all the heartbreak pour out.

“He… he told me I was a distraction,” she choked out. “After everything, he just… let me go.”

Carlos tightened his hold on her, his jaw clenched. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. He’s an idiot if he can’t see what he’s lost.”

Rebecca guided her inside, settling her on the couch with a soft blanket around her shoulders. “You can stay here as long as you need,” she said gently. “We’re here for you, okay?”

Y/N nodded, wiping her tears, but the pain still sat heavy in her chest. She thought back to all the moments she and Lando had shared – all the late nights, the laughter, the promises they’d made. And now, it all felt like nothing more than empty words.

---

Y/N sat curled up on Carlos and Rebecca’s couch, her fingers gripping a warm mug of tea that Rebecca had handed her, though she hadn’t taken a sip. Carlos and Rebecca sat across from her, exchanging worried glances. Rebecca reached over, placing a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Do you… do you want to talk about it?” Rebecca asked softly, her voice laced with concern. “It might help.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her eyes focusing on the tea in her hands. She’d replayed every painful moment a hundred times in her head, but somehow, saying it out loud made it feel even more real.

Taking a shaky breath, she began. “Lando wasn’t always like this. He used to be so… present. Back when he first started in F1, we were everything to each other. He’d come back from a race, even if he’d had a bad day, and he’d look at me like I was the only good thing he had. He’d call me his ‘anchor,’ you know? Like I was the one keeping him grounded.” Her voice cracked, and she blinked back tears.

Carlos looked away, jaw clenched, clearly struggling to hear how much his friend had hurt her.

“He used to make time for me, no matter what,” Y/N continued, her voice trembling as she remembered. “I remember one night, it was after a particularly bad race. He came home exhausted, and I tried to cheer him up. I was rambling on about some silly story, and he just stopped me, took my face in his hands, and said, ‘I don’t deserve you, you know that?’ I laughed it off, but he was so serious. That was Lando… he always made me feel like I was everything to him.” She let out a small, broken laugh. “Now it’s like… he doesn’t even see me anymore.”

Rebecca’s eyes were full of sympathy, and she leaned forward, gently rubbing Y/N’s back. “He still loves you, Y/N. He’s just… lost in all of this championship pressure. It’s consuming him.”

Y/N shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “That’s what I told myself at first. That it was just temporary. I wanted to be understanding, to give him the space he needed. But it kept getting worse. He’d come home, and it was like he was bringing all the weight of his career with him. He’d barely speak to me, and if he did, it was only about the races, the standings… nothing else.”

Carlos shifted forward, his expression filled with anger on her behalf. “But you were always there for him, through everything. He shouldn’t have taken you for granted.”

“That’s what hurts the most,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. “I tried to support him in every way I could, to be his safe place. But… it’s like he doesn’t need me anymore. Like I’m just in the way of his goal.” She clenched her fists, the pain intensifying as the words came tumbling out. “He told me I was a distraction, Carlos. Like I’m something he needs to get rid of to succeed.”

Carlos’s face hardened, his fists clenching. “That’s not right, Y/N. You were never a distraction. You were his partner.”

Y/N’s gaze dropped to her lap, her voice thick with tears. “I was so proud of him, so in love with him… I still am. But he’s changed. The Lando I fell in love with would never have pushed me away like this. I don’t even know if he’s in there anymore.”

Rebecca pulled Y/N into a tight hug, rubbing her back soothingly as Y/N finally broke down completely, letting the tears fall. “I just… I don’t know how to stop loving him,” she sobbed. “Even after everything, even after he said those horrible things… it still feels like a part of me is missing without him.”

Rebecca tightened her hold, her own eyes shining with tears. “You gave so much of yourself to him, Y/N. It’s going to hurt. But we’re here for you. You’re not alone.”

Y/N’s shoulders shook as she clung to Rebecca, her sobs echoing in the quiet room. Carlos leaned forward, reaching over to gently hold her hand. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he murmured. “You deserve so much more than this.”

“I just wish…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “I wish he could see how much he’s losing. But he’s so wrapped up in his dream, it’s like I don’t matter at all anymore.”

The three of them sat in silence, Rebecca and Carlos offering her the quiet support she desperately needed. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N let herself truly grieve the man she had once loved with everything in her – the man who had loved her just as fiercely but seemed to have slipped away, lost in the world he was so determined to conquer.

---

The first time people noticed, it was subtle – a strange emptiness around Lando that hadn’t been there before. There were no more quick glances to the paddock where Y/N used to stand, no playful smiles or inside jokes shared across the garage. And, most importantly, no sign of Y/N.

The media chalked it up to championship pressure, but his fans weren’t convinced. They flooded his social media with questions.

Twitter

@LandoLover91: Did anyone else notice Y/N hasn’t been at the last few races?

@RacingQueen: Where’s Y/N? She used to be his good luck charm. Lando seems so off without her…

@TeamNorris: You can see it on his face. Something’s missing.

It wasn’t just the fans. In the paddock, everyone saw it too. Even Max and Charles exchanged a look as they watched Lando pace through the garage, his usually confident demeanor tinged with something… off.

Max nudged Charles. “Have you noticed he hasn’t been himself lately?”

Charles nodded, concern flashing in his eyes. “It’s like he’s a ghost of who he used to be. And… Y/N isn’t here anymore.”

Max sighed, crossing his arms. “He pushed her away. I don’t think he even realized what he was doing until it was too late.”

In the McLaren Garage

Carlos was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, watching Lando carefully. He’d been giving Lando the cold shoulder ever since Y/N had shown up at his house in tears. Lando approached Carlos, a hint of desperation in his eyes.

“Carlos,” Lando started, his voice low. “I need to talk to you.”

Carlos’s gaze hardened, and he crossed his arms, his posture rigid. “Oh? Suddenly, you want to talk? Funny, because Y/N wanted to talk too. She begged you to hear her, and you threw her aside. Now, you’re here?”

Lando flinched, guilt swirling in his stomach. “I… I messed up, Carlos. I know that. I let the pressure get to me, and I said things I didn’t mean.”

Carlos’s face remained unyielding. “Didn’t mean? You called her a distraction. After everything she did to support you, to be there for you, you reduced her to an inconvenience.” His voice was laced with bitterness.

Lando’s shoulders slumped. “I know, okay? I know I ruined everything. I’ve been trying to talk to her, but she won’t answer my calls, won’t respond to my messages. I just… I need her back, Carlos. She’s the one good thing in my life, and I pushed her away.”

Carlos shook his head. “Do you even hear yourself? You only realize her worth now that she’s gone. What did you expect, that she’d wait around forever while you treated her like she didn’t matter?”

Lando’s voice cracked, desperation spilling over. “I don’t know what to do. I’ll do anything to make it right. Please, Carlos, just… tell her that I’m sorry.”

Carlos scoffed. “You think I’m going to deliver your apologies for you? If she wanted to talk to you, she would have. And after the way you treated her, I don’t blame her one bit for staying away.” Carlos’s eyes softened briefly, but it only made his tone more cutting. “You lost someone who loved you with everything she had, and you took it all for granted. Now, you have to live with that.”

Later, in the Drivers’ Lounge

Lando sat alone, staring at his phone, the endless stream of unanswered messages mocking him. The door swung open, and Max and Charles stepped in, glancing at him with a mix of pity and frustration.

Max crossed his arms, looking down at him. “You’re a mess, Lando.”

Lando’s head snapped up, eyes bloodshot. “What do you want me to say? I know I screwed up.”

Charles sat beside him, his voice gentle but firm. “Why didn’t you see it sooner? Y/N was always there for you. We all saw it – the way she looked at you, the way she believed in you. And you threw it all away for what? A title?”

“It’s not just about the title!” Lando said, his voice breaking. “I was under so much pressure… everyone was expecting me to be perfect, to finally beat Max. I thought… I thought if I just focused, if I could just give everything to racing, I’d be enough.”

Max shook his head, his expression a rare mix of sympathy and disappointment. “And now? Are you enough?”

Lando’s throat tightened, and he looked down, unable to answer. The truth hung heavy in the silence, a truth he could no longer deny.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “I keep replaying that night, every horrible word I said to her… and I can’t take any of it back.”

Charles placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes, Lando… there’s no going back. Maybe you just have to live with the choices you made.”

Back in the Garage

As the race weekend continued, the fans picked up on it too. Lando’s pit crew noticed his silence, the empty look in his eyes when he glanced toward the area where Y/N would usually stand, cheering him on. His lap times were erratic, and his usual spark was gone.

Carlos passed by, catching Lando looking lost and out of place in his own space. He leaned over, his voice low. “You’re hurting now, aren’t you? Feeling what she felt when you pushed her away. But you have to understand – you did this to yourself.”

Lando’s voice wavered, a raw edge of desperation seeping through. “Carlos, please. I can’t lose her. I don’t know how to do any of this without her.”

Carlos shook his head, his face impassive. “You made that choice when you told her she was just a distraction. She loved you, Lando. Truly loved you. But you made her feel like she wasn’t worth your time.”

Lando’s face fell, the words striking him harder than any crash he’d ever endured. “I thought I could fix it…”

“Some things can’t be fixed,” Carlos said, voice cold. “Some things… you have to live with. You’re going to realize, probably too late, that your title won’t fill the space she left. You traded something priceless for something you can only hold for a year.” With that, Carlos walked away, leaving Lando alone to the silence of his regrets.

---

Lando sat on the edge of his bed in his darkened hotel room, staring at his phone screen. His fingers hovered over the screen as he typed out another message to Y/N, his heart sinking lower with every word. He’d sent so many texts over the past few weeks, each one unanswered, each one leaving him more desperate than before.

Text Messages to mylove<3

Lando: I know I don’t deserve it, but please, Y/N, just talk to me. Please.

Lando: I’m so sorry. I was wrong, about everything. You were never a distraction. You were the only thing keeping me grounded.

Lando: I can’t believe I said those things to you. Please, I need to make it right.

Lando: Y/N, please come back. I miss you so much. I miss us.

The messages stayed marked as “delivered” but never “read.” Each notification that appeared on his screen felt like a punch to his gut. He opened their old messages, scrolling through the conversations where she used to send him good luck texts, little jokes, and photos that made him laugh on the toughest days. Now, the screen was empty, and it tore at him in ways he hadn’t expected.

He tried one last time, his fingers trembling.

Lando: Please, Y/N. Just one word. Just let me know you’re okay.

He waited, staring at the screen, hoping against hope that this time, she’d respond. But there was nothing. Just the cold silence of his phone screen mocking him, reminding him of the gaping hole he’d created in his life.

Finally, he threw the phone onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. A shuddering breath escaped him as he fought back the tears that had been welling up since she’d left. The weight of his regret was crushing, pressing down on his chest until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He broke down, the sobs wracking his body as he thought about all the times he’d taken her presence for granted, all the ways she’d been his rock, his source of strength. And now, in his pursuit of a title, he’d thrown it all away.

“Why did I do this?” he whispered to the empty room, his voice barely audible through the tears. “Why was I so stupid?”

He thought back to the last time he’d seen her, the pain in her eyes, the betrayal. She had been there through every single moment of his career, from the early struggles to his first win. And in the blink of an eye, he’d reduced her to something he could discard.

The sobs only grew louder, his shoulders shaking as the guilt crushed him. He could barely breathe, the weight of it all suffocating him. He’d lost the one person who truly loved him, who’d been there through everything – and now, he’d do anything to turn back time, to tell her how much she meant to him, to take back every cruel word.

But it was too late. All he had now was the silence, the cold realization of what he’d lost forever.

With trembling hands, he picked up his phone once more, typing out another desperate message, his vision blurred from the tears.

Text Message to mylove<3

Lando: I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’ll wait forever if I have to. I just… I just want you back.

But even as he hit send, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. And that knowledge only made the pain cut deeper, leaving him sobbing in the dark, broken and alone.

----

The championship had come down to the final race, and it slipped through Lando’s fingers. Second place. It was supposed to be the peak of his career, the culmination of years of hard work and sacrifice. But as he stood on the podium, looking out over the cheering crowd, all he felt was emptiness.

He’d traded everything for a shot at the title. And now, even with the world’s eyes on him, he felt alone.

The post-race interview was supposed to be about the championship battle. The questions started there, but it quickly turned into something else, something Lando couldn’t hold back any longer.

He took a deep breath, voice wavering as he spoke into the microphone. “I know today was supposed to be a celebration, and it should be. But I need to be honest… I made a huge mistake this season, one that I’ll regret for the rest of my life.”

The room went silent, the reporters leaning forward, sensing the weight of his words.

“I… I let the pressure of this championship get to me. I thought that if I could just focus, if I could give everything to racing, I’d find happiness. But in that process, I lost the most important thing in my life.” His voice broke, his hand tightening around the mic as he struggled to continue. “I pushed away the person who’s been there for me since the beginning. Through all the ups and downs, the wins and losses… she was always there, believing in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

Lando’s gaze drifted to the floor, shame filling his expression. “And I told her she was a distraction. I let her believe she wasn’t enough because I was too blinded by this… this dream. I’m an idiot for thinking a title could ever replace someone like her. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you more than anyone ever should, and if I could take it all back, I would. I’d give up every race, every trophy, every… every chance at this championship if it meant having you back. You were never a distraction. You were the only thing that kept me grounded, that kept me… sane.”

His eyes lifted to the camera, his voice soft but clear. “If… if she’s watching this, if she can hear me… I just want her to know that I’m sorry. More than anything, I want her to forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it, but I love her. And I would give up everything, every podium, every title… just to have her back. I didn’t realize what I had until I lost it. And now… now I’d do anything, anything to make it up to you. I know I don’t deserve it, but if you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me… I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel like that again.”

The room was quiet, the air thick with the weight of his confession. Lando’s face was streaked with the tears he’d tried to keep at bay, his vulnerability laid bare for the world to see.

Days Later, Monaco

Back in Monaco, Lando felt like a shell of himself. He moved through his days on autopilot, haunted by the memories of what he’d lost. The house felt empty without her presence, her laughter, her comforting words. He spent hours lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, replaying that interview in his head, hoping that maybe, somehow, she’d heard his words.

Then, one quiet evening, there was a knock at the door. It was tentative, hesitant, as if the person on the other side was unsure.

Lando’s heart raced as he walked to the door, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest. He opened it slowly, and there she was – Y/N, standing on his doorstep, tears in her eyes. Her face was etched with a mixture of pain and longing, the same emotions he’d been carrying since the day she left.

There she stood, Y/N, with tear-streaked cheeks and an expression he couldn’t quite decipher. Her lips trembled as she looked up at him, the softness in her eyes bringing fresh pain and, maybe, a glimmer of hope.

“Y/N…” His voice was barely a whisper, his heart pounding so hard he could barely breathe.

She blinked up at him, trying to hold back more tears. “I saw your interview, Lando,” she murmured, her voice breaking slightly.

He swallowed, nodding, unsure of what to say. “I… I meant every word. I know it doesn’t change what I did, but—”

“I know,” she interrupted gently, stepping closer. “I know you did. And I believe you.”

Lando’s breath hitched, the weight of her words settling over him like a warm blanket, thawing the cold ache that had plagued him for weeks. “Does that… does that mean…”

She nodded, a small, sad smile pulling at her lips. “I forgive you, Lando.”

Unable to hold back anymore, he closed the distance between them, arms wrapping around her, holding her close like she might disappear if he let go. She melted into his embrace, her own arms wrapping around him tightly, her face buried in his chest.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he murmured into her hair, his voice thick. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was so stupid. I should’ve known—”

“Shh,” she whispered, pulling back slightly to look up at him. “We both said things we didn’t mean. I just… I missed you so much.”

He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, too. I’d give up everything if it meant I’d never hurt you again. I don’t care about the championship, Y/N. None of it matters without you.”

Her hand came up to rest on his cheek, and she gave him a watery smile. “I don’t want you to give up anything, Lando. I just… I want to be part of your life, not something you feel you need to push away.”

“You are my life,” he said fervently, pressing his forehead against hers. “And I’ll never, ever forget that again.”

She laughed softly, though it was more of a hiccup, as more tears slipped down her cheeks. “Promise?”

He nodded, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I swear. I’m not letting go this time, no matter what. You’re stuck with me.”

“Good,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, grounding herself in his warmth. “Because I don’t think I could ever walk away again.”

Without another word, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss, the kind that seemed to say all the things he’d failed to put into words. She kissed him back, pouring every ounce of her love and forgiveness into it, their arms tightening around each other as if trying to make up for every moment they’d lost.

When they finally pulled back, both of them breathless, she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“You know,” she said softly, looking up at him with a mischievous smile. “I kind of enjoyed seeing you grovel on national television.”

He chuckled, his laugh a little choked with emotion. “Well, if that’s what it takes to make you stay, I’ll do it every day if I have to.”

She shook her head, a laugh escaping her. “I don’t think you’ll need to. Just… remember to let me in, okay? We’re a team, you and me.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “A team. Forever.”

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Lando felt for the first time in weeks that everything might actually be okay again.

860 notes · View notes

its-avalon-08 · 26 days ago

Text

chicken shop date (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - little angst, tears, comfort, jealousy

"Hey, babe," Lando called out as he walked into the living room, his voice casual, as if he was mentioning the weather. Y/N looked up from the book she was reading, her eyes narrowing a little, sensing something was coming. "I’ve got to head out for a bit later. Media duties. You know how it is."

"Yeah, where to?" Y/N asked, pretending she wasn’t bothered, even though her gut told her this wasn’t just any media duty.

Lando plopped down beside her on the couch, leaning back with his arm lazily draped over her shoulders. "Just some interview thing. The Chicken Shop Date."

Her heart sank a little. "The one with Amelia?"

Lando nodded, not catching the slight change in her tone. "Yeah, should be fun, right? It’s been all over social media. Apparently, people love that show."

Y/N forced a smile. "Yeah… fun."

He didn’t notice the hesitation, scrolling through his phone as if it was no big deal. "It’s just an interview, nothing serious. I’ll be back by dinner."

Y/N gave a tight nod. "Okay, sure. It’s fine."

But it wasn’t. It didn’t help that she knew how these things played out online. Fans loved to pair drivers up with anyone and everyone, and Amelia was already adored. Y/N tried not to think about it too much, but the insecurity crept in. The doubt, the comparison—it all bubbled beneath the surface.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Lando sat across from Amelia, lights blaring overhead, the cameras rolling, and the familiar buzz of media duties surrounding him. He smiled and laughed at her jokes, played along with the teasing banter, but his mind wasn’t really in the conversation. It was on Y/N.

As Amelia quipped something about his love for chicken, Lando gave the expected laugh, but inside, all he could think about was how Y/N would have found that moment funny—actually funny, not forced for the sake of the cameras. She had this way of cracking up over the smallest things, making even the most mundane moments between them feel like they were in their own little world. He shifted in his seat, nodding as Amelia asked him another question, but it was Y/N’s voice he wanted to hear, not Amelia’s.

I should’ve texted her before this started, he thought. She hates these things. She probably thinks this is stupid.

His smile faltered for a split second before he masked it again with his easy-going charm. Lando’s mind wandered, picturing Y/N curled up on the couch, probably watching something on Netflix, or worse—doom-scrolling through social media where people would already be buzzing about him and Amelia. He knew how much she hated seeing those comments.

"Do you always pick chicken on a date?" Amelia asked, her voice pulling him back to the present.

He smirked automatically, playing along. "Depends on the girl, I guess."

But in his mind, there was only one girl. He could almost hear Y/N’s sarcastic response if she’d been there. Something like “Oh wow, such a Casanova.” He bit back a real grin, wishing he was with her instead, eating pizza on the floor like they always did when they had time to themselves.

As Amelia tossed another teasing question his way, Lando nodded again, but his thoughts drifted to Y/N’s smile. Her real smile, the one she only showed when she was truly happy—her eyes crinkling at the edges, dimples making their rare but precious appearance. God, I love that smile, he thought. How do I even survive without seeing it every day?

The interview continued, but Lando was only half there. His answers were automatic, the jokes came easy enough, but his heart was back home with Y/N. He could already imagine the comments that would flood in after this aired—the inevitable “couple goals” remarks about him and Amelia, the fans who shipped them just because they shared a few laughs on camera. He hated how much Y/N would probably see it all and doubt herself again.

She’s the one, he reminded himself, trying to focus as Amelia asked him about his worst date experience. But his mind flickered to the time he and Y/N had gotten completely soaked during an impromptu storm on what was supposed to be a romantic picnic. It had been a disaster, but also perfect, because it was with her.

The interview wrapped up eventually, and as he stood up to leave, Lando’s first instinct was to check his phone. A text from Y/N popped up.

How’s it going? Did you eat all the chicken yet?

He grinned down at the message, a wave of warmth washing over him. She’s probably teasing, but I know she’s anxious, he thought, his fingers quickly tapping out a response.

Miss you. Be home soon.

Amelia said something to him on the way out, but he barely registered it. His mind was already miles away, back where he belonged—next to Y/N.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Y/N sat on the couch, her phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, Instagram, and every other app she swore she’d avoid today. The comments were relentless, each one stabbing at the insecurities she’d been trying so hard to ignore.

Amelia and Lando are too cute together! Lando needs someone like Amelia, not Y/N. Amelia is just…better. They have way more chemistry than Lando and his actual girlfriend, LOL.

She closed her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat as she let the phone fall onto her lap. The words kept spinning in her mind. They shouldn’t have bothered her this much, but they did. The laughter and teasing between Lando and Amelia from the video replayed in her mind, feeding her doubts.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed beside her, breaking her out of the spiral. She sighed, assuming it was more notifications from the post, but the name on the screen made her pause.

Carlitos.

She hesitated, not wanting to deal with anyone right now, but something told her to pick up. Carlos wouldn’t call without a reason.

“Hey, Carlitos,” she answered, trying her best to sound casual.

But Carlos knew her too well. "You’re doom-scrolling, aren’t you?"

Y/N’s heart sank at his words, her eyes darting to her phone again as if he could see everything she’d just read. "No… I mean, maybe a little. How do you know?"

Carlos chuckled softly on the other end. "I just do. I saw the interview, and I figured you’d be reading all that rubbish online. You know how people get with these things."

Y/N sighed, leaning her head back against the couch. "It’s not just people. It’s like… I don’t know, Carlos. They’re saying Lando and Amelia have more chemistry than we do. And I… I can’t help but think, what if they’re right?"

There was a brief silence before Carlos spoke, his voice gentle but firm. "You’re kidding, right? Lando adores you. You should see the way he talks about you when you’re not around. You’ve got nothing to worry about."

Y/N’s chest tightened. "But did you see the video? They looked… I don’t know, comfortable. Like they fit."

Carlos let out a soft sigh. "Y/N, of course they looked comfortable. It’s an interview, they’re supposed to. And Amelia’s whole thing is to make it playful. But you and Lando—what you two have is real. Not some staged banter for the cameras."

She stayed silent, biting her lip, unsure if she could believe him.

"You’ve been with him through everything, Y/N," Carlos continued, his voice softer now. "The highs, the lows, the things the cameras never see. What you two have isn’t for the internet to decide. It’s for you and Lando, and no one else."

Y/N swallowed, her eyes stinging as she blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. "I just… I hate feeling like I’m not enough for him sometimes."

Carlos paused for a moment before speaking again, this time with more conviction. "Listen to me. You are more than enough. Lando knows it. I know it. And deep down, you know it too. The internet? They’ll always talk, but they don’t know the first thing about your relationship."

Y/N let out a shaky breath, nodding even though he couldn’t see her. "Yeah, I guess."

"No, not ‘I guess,’" Carlos insisted. "I’m telling you. Lando loves you. He doesn’t care about Amelia or anyone else. And if he saw you right now, he’d probably punch himself for letting you feel like this."

A soft laugh escaped Y/N, despite the tears that were now sliding down her cheeks. "You’re too good to me, Carlos."

"Someone’s got to keep an eye on you when Lando’s off doing these ridiculous interviews," he teased, his tone lighter now. "But seriously, promise me you’ll stop reading those comments. They don’t matter."

Y/N nodded, wiping at her eyes. "I’ll try. Thanks, Carlos. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that."

"Anytime, Y/N. And if you ever need a reminder, just call me, okay?"

"Okay," she said softly, feeling the weight on her chest slowly lift.

"And remember," Carlos added, his voice warm and reassuring, "you’re family. We’ve all got your back, no matter what. Especially me."

Y/N smiled through her tears, her heart swelling at his words. "I know. Thank you, Carlos. Really."

"Now, go put your phone down and do something that makes you happy. Lando will be home soon, and he’s probably missing you already."

Y/N let out a soft chuckle. "You’re right. I’ll stop the doom-scrolling."

"Good," Carlos said, his smile evident through the phone. "Talk soon, Y/N."

"Bye, Carlos."

As the call ended, Y/N set her phone down, feeling a bit lighter. Carlos was right. Lando loved her, and she couldn’t let the opinions of people who didn’t even know them take that away. With a deep breath, she got up, deciding to make dinner and wait for Lando, her heart feeling a little more at peace.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Lando was driving back home, the streets quiet, his mind wandering between the day’s events and how much he just wanted to be with Y/N. He could already imagine her waiting for him, maybe with some sarcastic comment about the interview, but her smile would say it all. That was his Y/N.

His phone rang, breaking him out of his thoughts. Seeing Carlos’ name flash on the screen, he raised an eyebrow, quickly connecting his Bluetooth before answering.

“Carlos, what’s up?” Lando asked casually, one hand on the steering wheel.

“Mate, we need to talk,” Carlos’ tone was serious, which immediately caught Lando’s attention. “It’s about Y/N.”

Lando’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean? Is she okay?”

“She’s been doom scrolling, Lando,” Carlos sighed. “All the comments about you and Amelia… they’re getting to her. Badly.”

Lando’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as his heart started to race. No, no, no… I should’ve checked on her more. I should’ve known this would happen.

“Shit,” Lando muttered under his breath, the image of Y/N’s hurt expression flashing in his mind. “How bad is it?”

“She’s really upset,” Carlos said softly. “I just talked to her. She’s trying to act like it’s fine, but you know Y/N. She’s hurt, man.”

Lando’s mind started spiraling. The interview with Amelia had been playful, nothing more. But of course, the internet had twisted it into something else. And he hadn’t even thought to reassure Y/N after it. How could I be so stupid? She’s always had a hard time with stuff like this.

He could already picture her sitting at home, scrolling through all those hateful comments, each one cutting deeper than the last. And he hadn’t been there to stop it. Guilt washed over him in waves, his mind running a mile a minute.

“You need to fix this, mate,” Carlos added. “She needs to hear it from you.”

“Yeah,” Lando nodded, though Carlos couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I’ll fix it. Thanks, Carlos.”

“Don’t let her sit with it too long, alright? You know how she gets.”

Lando’s chest felt tight as he ended the call. His thoughts swirled, an overwhelming sense of panic bubbling inside him. She’s hurting because of me. I should’ve known. Why didn’t I check in with her sooner?

He couldn’t stop the spiral. His mind raced through every scenario—Y/N sitting there, thinking she wasn’t good enough, believing for even a second that anyone, let alone Amelia, could ever come close to what she meant to him. What if she starts pulling away? What if she starts believing those comments?

Lando could feel the pressure building in his chest, his heart pounding as he drove. He hated the thought of her doubting his feelings, doubting herself. She was the most important person in his life, the one he thought about constantly. How could she not know that?

I need to make it up to her. I need to show her how much I love her.

As he passed a convenience store, he swerved into the parking lot on impulse, throwing the car into park. He rushed inside, his eyes scanning the aisles in a frenzy. What would make her smile? What would remind her that she’s everything?

His heart still raced as he grabbed her favorite chocolate, the one she always ate when she was feeling down. Next, he spotted a small display of flowers—bright, colorful blooms that would make her laugh at how cheesy they were. He grabbed those too, along with a soft plush bear that looked far too childish but somehow felt perfect for this moment.

As he stood at the checkout, waiting for the clerk to ring everything up, his mind was still spinning. What if it’s not enough? What if she’s already convinced herself that she’s not good enough for me?

No, he told himself firmly. I’ll make her see. I’ll make her believe it.

He rushed back to the car, throwing the flowers and chocolates onto the passenger seat, already picturing her face when she saw them. She deserves the world, and I’ve been too caught up to remind her of that. I’m such an idiot.

The drive home felt longer than ever, his heart pounding in his chest as his thoughts swirled between guilt, panic, and determination. By the time he pulled into the driveway, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He grabbed everything from the seat, taking a deep breath as he walked up to the door. I need to fix this.

Lando fumbled with his keys, his hands shaking slightly as he unlocked the door. He stepped inside quietly, his eyes immediately searching for her. The house was quiet, but he knew she was there. He could feel the tension in the air, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging between them.

“Y/N?” he called softly, stepping further into the house, the flowers and chocolates held awkwardly in his hands.

She appeared from the living room, her eyes red-rimmed, a telltale sign that she’d been crying. Seeing her like that nearly broke him.

“Hey,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando swallowed hard, his heart aching at the sight of her. “I, uh, got you something,” he said, holding up the flowers and chocolates, his voice shaky with nerves.

Y/N’s eyes flickered to the items in his hands, a soft, surprised smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite her sadness.

“Why?” she asked, though her voice wasn’t accusatory—it was more like she didn’t understand why he would do something so sweet when she felt so far from deserving it.

“Because…” Lando stepped closer, his chest tightening again as he searched for the right words. “Because I love you, and I’ve been an idiot. I should’ve known how all of this would make you feel, and I didn’t—” He took a deep breath, his voice catching slightly. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. I don’t care what anyone says. I only care about you.”

She looked at him, her eyes softening, but the hurt was still there. “Lando, I just… I don’t want to feel like I’m not enough for you. And with everything people are saying—”

“Stop,” Lando interrupted, stepping closer and setting the flowers and chocolates down so he could take her hands in his. “You are more than enough. You’re everything. I hate that you ever doubted that, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to stop it before it got this far.”

His voice cracked, the weight of his guilt pouring out. “I should’ve texted you, called you, anything. I hate that you had to sit there and read all those stupid comments. I love you, Y/N. No one else, not Amelia, not anyone. Just you.”

Y/N’s lip trembled, her walls breaking down as she looked into his eyes. “I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Lando promised, his voice firm as he pulled her into a tight hug. “You won’t lose me. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt, but Lando didn’t care. All that mattered was that she was in his arms, and he was never letting go.

“I love you,” she whispered against his chest, her voice muffled but full of emotion.

“I love you more,” Lando murmured, kissing the top of her head softly. "Always."

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

The race weekend buzz filled the paddock, mechanics and engineers bustling around in preparation for the big day. Lando stood near his McLaren, helmet in hand, but his eyes were focused on Y/N, standing just a few feet away. She was watching him, that small, soft smile on her lips that always made his heart race more than any lap could.

They hadn’t spoken much since arriving at the track, but everything between them felt different now—closer, stronger. And as Lando walked toward her, the noise of the paddock seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them.

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his. “Ready to win today?” she asked, her voice teasing but full of warmth.

Lando grinned, but something stirred in him as he stood there, watching her. He couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that he needed to do more—show her, not just tell her, how much she meant to him. Not later, not when the race was over, but now. Right now.

Without thinking twice, he closed the gap between them in two quick strides. His helmet dropped from his hand, clattering to the ground, but he didn’t care.

“Lando?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening in surprise as he reached for her.

Before she could say anything more, Lando cupped her face in his hands, pulling her in for a kiss—a deep, passionate kiss that made the world around them disappear. His lips moved against hers with an intensity that spoke louder than words ever could, his hands trembling slightly as he held her close.

Y/N gasped into the kiss, her fingers instinctively gripping the front of his race suit as she melted into him, caught completely off guard by the suddenness of it. But the way he kissed her—the urgency, the need—told her everything she needed to know.

When he finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together. The paddock around them had come to a standstill, everyone frozen in place, eyes wide as they witnessed the moment.

Lando smiled softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek as he whispered, “I love you so much, Y/N. And I don’t care who knows it.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of shock and happiness, her cheeks flushed. “Lando… I—”

But before she could finish, he kissed her again—this time softer, more tender, but still just as full of meaning.

When he pulled back, Y/N let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “You do realize you just kissed me in front of half the grid, right?”

Lando grinned, glancing around for the first time to see the eyes of drivers, team members, and media locked on them. Phones were out, no doubt capturing the moment that was already spreading across the internet like wildfire.

“Good,” he said with a mischievous smirk. “Now the whole world knows who I love.”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she playfully hit his chest. “You’re such a show-off.”

“Only for you,” Lando teased, pulling her in for one last quick kiss. “Gotta give them something to talk about, right?”

As he bent down to grab his helmet, his eyes stayed locked on hers, the playful grin never leaving his face. He knew what he’d just done—how this moment was going to blow up online, how everyone was going to be talking about the “kiss heard ‘round the paddock.”

And honestly, he didn’t care. Let them talk. Let them post. Let the internet go wild.

He winked at her as he started to back toward the car. “Wish me luck?”

Y/N smiled brightly, her heart racing from the kiss and the moment that felt so surreal. “You don’t need luck,” she called after him. “You’ve got me.”

Lando laughed, a lightness in his chest as he put on his helmet, ready for the race. But before he climbed into the car, he stole one last glance at her.

And when he saw her standing there, beaming at him, he knew—he’d already won.

By the time Lando was strapped in and the race was about to begin, the internet had already exploded.

“Lando Norris pulls Y/N into a kiss before the race—power move!” “Is this the most romantic moment in F1 history?” “#LandosLove trending as fans lose their minds over that kiss.”

But all that mattered to Lando, sitting in his McLaren, was the fact that Y/N was there, watching him, and she knew—without a doubt—that she was the only one he cared about.

And today, he was going to win. For her.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

As soon as the kiss went viral, Instagram was flooded with posts, stories, and comments, with fans going absolutely wild over the moment.

@f1updates 📸 | Lando Norris pulls Y/N into a passionate kiss before hopping into his McLaren! 💥🔥 #LandoNorris #F1Romance #PaddockGoals

Comments:

@racingqueen_: SOMEONE GET ME AN OXYGEN TANK. I CAN’T BREATHE. 😍🔥

@fastandflirty: The way he just grabbed her and kissed her like he didn’t care who was watching?! Lando, sir, that’s illegal. 😳😭

@fanofchampions: This is the most romantic thing to ever happen in F1, I swear.

@speedqueen_: “I love you and I don’t care who knows it.” PLEASE HE DID THAT ON PURPOSE, I’M SOBBING. 😭

@racingislife: The internet isn’t ready for the #LandosLove era. 🥺❤️

@lan_y/nforever: This is NOT a drill. My heart cannot handle this.

@mclarensoulmate: F1 who? I’m now a fan of Lando’s romance arc. 🥹🌹

@formula1love 📷 Lando Norris and Y/N — the ultimate paddock couple. The kiss that broke the internet! 💏🔥 #CoupleGoals #LandosLove #F1

Comments:

@gridgirl_gossip: THAT KISS WAS STRAIGHT OUT OF A MOVIE, I’M NOT OKAY. 🥵💥

@checkeredlovestory: And Lando said, “Let me set the internet on fire real quick.” 😂🔥

@speeddiva: Can we talk about how they didn’t care about ANYONE around them? Like, iconic behavior.

@mclarensnumberone: They’re the new Brangelina of F1. No one can tell me otherwise. 😭

@thisgridisburning: This is better than any podium celebration I’ve ever seen in F1! 🏆💖

@formulaonedaydream: I want what they have. NO ONE TALK TO ME.

@mclarenofficial We knew Lando was fast on track, but that kiss was next level. 😉💨 #LandoNorris #PaddockLove

Comments:

@y/nation: WE ARE SCREAMING! THAT WAS THE KISS OF THE CENTURY. 👏🏽🔥

@lanfanofficial: Can Lando stop being perfect for like, five minutes? 🥲

@gridromantic: Not Lando turning the paddock into his own personal rom-com! I’m WEAK.

@mclarensbabes: Lando just raised the bar for every F1 driver’s girlfriend/boyfriend! Good luck topping that, lads. 😂💖

@inlove_with_speed: I’m crying, I’m laughing, I’m DYING. No one can compete with them. 💀

@landonorrisfanclub Lando's not just winning races—he’s winning at love too. 🥺💙 That kiss?! We’re still recovering. #LandoAndY/N #F1CoupleGoals

Comments:

@allthegridfeels: If this isn’t the definition of relationship goals, I don’t know what is.

@lapsofemotion: The way he didn’t care who saw it… I'm screaming.

@teambae: The power they hold over us all is unreal. 💥💖

@racedaydreamer: They really gave us a full-blown rom-com in the middle of the paddock, and I’M HERE FOR IT.

@getinthegrid: Someone write a fanfic about this moment RIGHT NOW.

@gridsweethearts Did Lando just set the bar for every F1 driver’s love life? Yes. Yes, he did. 💥😳 #LandoNorris #Y/N #LoveInThePaddock

Comments:

@racingheartbeats: I’m sobbing, they’re so beautiful together. I can’t even. 🥲

@formula1dreamer: Lando, what did you put in that kiss?! I FELT THAT IN MY SOUL. 😭

@mclovingspeed: That was the most iconic thing ever. No one’s gonna top that.

@lan_y/nfanforever: Lando just casually redefined love in F1. The paddock belongs to them now.

The hashtag #LandosLove began trending worldwide within minutes, fans sharing clips, edits, and reactions to the unexpected yet intensely romantic moment. It wasn't just a race weekend anymore—it was the weekend Lando and Y/N stole the show.

726 notes · View notes

its-avalon-08 · 1 month ago

Note

Can you write a Carlos or Daniel x reader story where the reader goes through a miscarriage and is affected by it; they can either be in a relationship or just friends?

mi vida mi amor (cs55)

✦ pairing - carlos sainz x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, miscarriage, tears, comfort

hey guys, due to the severity of this topic, please proceed with caution. incase you relate with this story, firstly my heartfelt condolences and love, secondly know you are loved and worthy of everything under the sun.

the pregnancy loss phone helpline - 01924 200799 or email at [email protected]

The warm, golden glow of the afternoon sun bathed the cozy living room in a serene light. Y/N sat on the couch, her hand resting gently on her belly, a soft smile playing on her lips as she gazed at Carlos, who was crouched down in front of her, his hand pressed against her stomach with reverence.

"I can’t wait to meet them," he whispered, his voice full of awe, eyes sparkling with excitement. “You think they’ll be a little racer like their dad or maybe an artist like their mom?”

Y/N chuckled, her fingers running through Carlos’s hair as she looked down at him, love swelling in her chest. “I think they’ll be a little bit of both. Fast and creative, maybe even stubborn like you.”

Carlos grinned, leaning forward to press a kiss against her belly. “Stubborn’s a good thing. Means they’ll never give up. Just like their mamá.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, warmth spreading through her as Carlos sat beside her, gently pulling her into his arms. They had been waiting for this moment for what felt like a lifetime—a future full of laughter, love, and their baby. The pregnancy had been smooth so far, and every appointment brought new joys. They had even picked out names.

As she nestled into his embrace, Y/N sighed contentedly. “Can you believe it? In just a few months, everything’s going to change. We’ll be parents, Carlos.”

Carlos tightened his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I’m ready for it. I’m ready for all of it, as long as I have you by my side.”

She turned to look at him, eyes sparkling with joy. “I love you, you know that?”

He smiled, leaning in to kiss her softly. “I love you more. Always.”

The moment felt perfect, like everything had fallen into place, like the universe was aligning just for them. Y/N felt safe in Carlos’s arms, and for the first time in a long time, her worries felt small, far away.

Until they weren’t.

Later that evening, Y/N suddenly felt a sharp pain in her abdomen, enough to make her pause mid-laugh as they sat down for dinner. Carlos, who had just set a plate of her favorite food in front of her, immediately noticed the change in her expression.

"Y/N? What’s wrong?" he asked, concern flashing in his eyes as he rushed to her side.

She winced, gripping the edge of the table as another wave of pain hit her, harder this time. “I… I don’t know. It’s probably just nothing—maybe the baby’s moving.”

Carlos knelt down beside her, his hand on her knee, trying to hide the panic rising in his chest. “Are you sure? It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

Before she could answer, another sharp pain tore through her, this one stronger than the last. She gasped, her hand instinctively going to her stomach, fear creeping into her eyes. "Carlos, something’s wrong. I don’t—"

His heart dropped. “Okay, okay. We’re going to the hospital. Right now.” His voice was steady, but inside, dread was building with each passing second. He grabbed the car keys and helped her to her feet, his mind racing as he tried to stay calm for her sake.

As they drove, Y/N held onto her belly, her breathing shallow, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. "Carlos, what if—"

"Don’t. Don’t say it," Carlos interrupted, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. "Everything’s going to be okay, Y/N. It has to be."

But deep down, a part of him was terrified. Terrified of what they might lose. Of what they couldn’t control.

The ride to the hospital felt like a blur. Once they arrived, the doctors moved quickly, whisking Y/N away while Carlos was left pacing the sterile waiting room, the smell of disinfectant and the cold, harsh lights making the entire situation feel surreal.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, until finally, a doctor came out, his expression grim. Carlos’s heart stopped as he looked up, dreading the words that were about to come.

“I’m so sorry,” the doctor said, his voice gentle but devastating. “There was nothing we could do. You’ve lost the baby.”

Carlos’s world crumbled in that moment, the breath stolen from his lungs. His legs felt weak, his mind unable to fully comprehend the words. Lost? How could that be? Just hours ago, everything had been perfect. They had been planning their future, dreaming of the family they were going to have.

Now, it was all gone.

And Y/N—his heart broke for her as much as it broke for the child they had lost. He could barely process his own grief, but Y/N’s—how would she survive this? How could he help her through something so devastating when he barely knew how to breathe himself?

Tears welled up in his eyes as he stumbled into the hospital room, where Y/N lay, her face pale and streaked with tears. Her eyes met his, and in that moment, the pain they both felt was indescribable. He rushed to her side, taking her trembling hand in his, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to make any of this better.

“Carlos,” she sobbed, her voice raw and broken, “our baby…”

Carlos pulled her into his arms, holding her as tightly as he could, tears streaming down his own face. "I know, mi amor. I know. I’m so sorry."

They clung to each other, their grief unbearable, as the world outside moved on without them. But in that hospital room, time stood still, and all that remained was the weight of their loss, heavy and heart-shattering.

time skip

The days after the hospital were a blur of empty silences and broken hearts. Carlos tried, God, he tried, but it felt like everything was slipping through his fingers. He cooked Y/N's favorite meals, hoping the familiar taste might bring her back, even just a little. But each time, she would sit at the table, staring blankly at the food, barely touching a bite.

He watched her now, sitting across from him, the plate of pasta growing cold in front of her. She held the fork but didn’t lift it. Her eyes were distant, lost in a fog of grief and guilt. She hadn’t spoken much in days, only brief answers, as if words were too much of an effort.

Carlos forced a smile, his voice soft but filled with desperate hope. "Remember when we made this for the first time? You almost burned the entire kitchen down." He chuckled lightly, trying to coax a reaction, any reaction from her.

Y/N's lips twitched, but it wasn’t a smile—it was something hollow, a distant echo of the person she used to be. She set the fork down without taking a bite.

Carlos’s heart sank. He couldn’t stand it—the silence, the emptiness. He needed her to come back. “Y/N, please…” he said softly, reaching across the table to take her hand. “Talk to me. Yell at me, cry, anything. Just… don’t shut me out.”

Her eyes flickered to his, but the spark that used to light them was gone. She squeezed his hand weakly, as if trying to reassure him, but the gesture felt hollow. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m just… tired.”

Carlos swallowed hard, nodding as he tried to keep the tremor out of his voice. “I know, mi amor. I know you’re tired. But you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here. I’m always here.”

Y/N stood abruptly, the scrape of the chair against the floor loud in the otherwise silent room. “I’m going to lie down,” she murmured, walking toward their bedroom, her movements slow, like she was carrying a weight too heavy for her to bear.

Carlos sat at the table, his chest tightening as he watched her retreating figure. His hands trembled as he buried his face in them, the weight of helplessness suffocating. He had no idea what to do. He was losing her, piece by piece, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

Later that evening, Carlos found Y/N sitting by the window in their bedroom, staring out at the darkening sky. The soft glow of twilight bathed her in shadows, making her seem even more fragile than she already was. He sat beside her, carefully placing an arm around her shoulders.

She leaned into him, like she always did, pressing a kiss to his cheek—a gesture that used to be filled with love, but now felt almost automatic, like she was going through the motions but wasn’t really there.

Carlos closed his eyes, the pain of it all overwhelming him. “I miss you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I miss us.”

Y/N didn’t respond, her eyes still fixed on the horizon. A tear slipped down her cheek, but she didn’t bother wiping it away.

He pressed his forehead against hers, trying to hold on to the connection they had. “I need you to come back to me,” he pleaded, his voice shaking. “I can’t lose you, Y/N. Please don’t do this.”

She swallowed hard, her breath shaky, but still said nothing. Silence filled the room again, and Carlos felt like he was drowning in it.

After a long moment, Y/N pulled away slightly, her eyes downcast. “I don’t know who I am anymore,” she whispered, her voice so broken it barely sounded like her. “I hate myself, Carlos. I don’t know how to… how to live with this.”

Carlos's breath hitched, his heart breaking all over again. “No, no,” he shook his head, his grip tightening on her. “You’re the strongest person I know. You’re still the woman I fell in love with, and I’m not giving up on you.”

Y/N shook her head, tears streaming down her face now. “But I’m giving up on myself,” she admitted, the words hanging between them like a knife to his chest.

Carlos’s world seemed to tilt as the gravity of her words sank in. His pulse raced, his mind screaming for a way to fix this, to make her see. “You can’t,” he whispered, his voice trembling as panic gripped him. “You can’t give up. Not on yourself. Not on us.”

Y/N turned away, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, Carlos. I just… I don’t know how to be okay again.”

Carlos felt the walls closing in around him, his heart pounding in his chest as fear like he’d never known consumed him. He was losing her, and no matter what he said or did, he couldn’t seem to stop it. He couldn’t reach her anymore.

Desperately, he grabbed her hand, pulling her back to face him. "Y/N, don’t say that! You have to fight. You have to. For us. For what we still have left. I—"

But Y/N pulled her hand away, standing up abruptly. “I need air,” she muttered, her voice cracking as she hurried toward the door.

Carlos stood up as well, panic rising in his chest. “Y/N, wait! Please—”

But before he could stop her, she was gone, the door swinging shut behind her.

Carlos stood frozen in place, the silence that followed deafening. His chest heaved with each shallow breath as dread clawed at him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think. His world was unraveling before his eyes, and he was powerless to stop it.

Suddenly, the sound of something crashing in the hallway broke the silence.

Carlos’s blood ran cold.

“Y/N?” he called, his voice thick with fear as he rushed out of the room.

But the only response was the echo of his own voice in the empty hallway.

Carlos's heart raced as he rushed down the hallway, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the walls, his mind filled with dread.

“Y/N!” he called again, his voice thick with fear, his throat dry.

His pulse pounded in his ears as he skidded to a stop by the front door, his breath catching in his chest when he saw her. Y/N was slumped against the wall, her body shaking with silent sobs, her hand covering her mouth as tears streamed down her face. A picture frame had fallen from the wall, its shattered pieces scattered around her feet.

Carlos's chest tightened at the sight of her, his heart breaking all over again. He crouched down beside her, his hands trembling as he reached out, his voice softer now, gentler. "Y/N, amor, please… talk to me. I’m right here."

But she didn’t respond, her eyes glazed over, staring at nothing as if she were lost in a fog too thick to escape. She was barely hanging on, and Carlos could feel her slipping further away from him with each passing second.

He gently took her hand, squeezing it, trying to ground her, to bring her back. "I’m right here," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I’m not going anywhere. Please don’t shut me out."

Finally, Y/N looked at him, her eyes red and swollen from crying, her lips trembling. “I can’t… I don’t know how to do this anymore, Carlos,” she whispered, her voice broken, raw. “I can’t pretend to be okay when everything inside me feels so wrong.”

Carlos’s breath hitched in his throat, his chest tightening as her words pierced through him. He wanted to fix this, to make her pain go away, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t know how to bring her back to the woman she once was—the woman he loved, who was full of life and light. Now, all that was left was a shadow, and it terrified him.

“You don’t have to pretend,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “You don’t have to be okay. I just need you to let me in. I need you to try.”

Y/N’s body shook as a sob escaped her lips, her free hand clenching around the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t know how to try, Carlos,” she admitted, her voice so small it broke him. “I feel like I’m drowning, and no matter what I do, I can’t breathe.”

Carlos’s eyes stung with unshed tears as he pulled her into his arms, holding her as tightly as he could, as if somehow, his love alone could save her. "Then let me breathe for you," he whispered into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ll hold on to you. I’ll never let go, I swear."

But Y/N shook her head, her voice barely a whisper, “What if you’re better off without me?”

Carlos froze, his blood running cold at the words, like a knife had been driven into his chest. He pulled back slightly, cupping her face with both hands, forcing her to look at him. His eyes searched hers, desperate, pleading. "Don’t ever say that," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “Don’t ever say that.”

Tears streamed down her face as she broke down, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs. "I’ve lost our baby, Carlos. I failed you, I failed us. How can you still look at me and say you love me after everything I’ve taken from you?”

His heart shattered at her words, and he held her tighter, his own tears falling freely now. “You didn’t fail me,” he whispered fiercely, his voice shaking with emotion. “You never failed me, Y/N. We lost our baby, but that doesn’t mean I’ve lost you. I still love you. I’ll always love you."

Y/N sobbed harder, her hands clutching his shirt as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded. "I hate myself for this," she admitted, her voice broken. “I don’t know how to stop feeling like this.”

Carlos kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there as he tried to hold back his own tears. “I know it’s hard. I know you’re hurting, amor, but you’re not alone in this. We’re going to get through this together. I promise you. Please, don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on us.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with pain and self-loathing, and for a moment, it seemed like she might say something—like she might let him in. But instead, she pulled away, wiping her tears with shaky hands.

“I need to be alone,” she whispered, standing up slowly, her movements lethargic, almost mechanical. She didn’t look back at him as she walked toward the door, the distance between them growing with each step.

Carlos’s heart raced, panic clawing at his chest as he stood up, calling after her. “Y/N, wait—”

But she didn’t stop, her hand already on the door handle.

Carlos felt his world tilting again, slipping further out of his control. He could feel her slipping away, and the terror of losing her completely gripped him.

“Please,” he begged, his voice cracking as he took a step forward, his hand reaching out for her. "Don’t go."

Y/N paused, her hand frozen on the door, her back still turned to him.

But she didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Carlos held his breath, waiting—hoping—for something, anything.

Then, without a word, Y/N opened the door and stepped outside, leaving Carlos standing alone in the hallway, the cold air from the open door chilling him to the bone.

And as the door clicked shut behind her, Carlos felt his world shatter into a thousand irreparable pieces.

Carlos stood frozen, staring at the door as it clicked shut behind Y/N, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. His world, once filled with joy and love, now felt like it was crumbling to dust. He wanted to move, to chase after her, but his feet felt glued to the floor. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear, anger, and helplessness.

Why did she leave? Why couldn’t I stop her? His mind screamed, and his body trembled with the effort to hold himself together. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he tried to choke back the sob threatening to escape.

I can’t lose her. I can’t let this destroy us.

Tears blurred his vision as he sank down to the floor, his head in his hands. He didn’t know what else to do. He had tried everything, poured every ounce of love he had into her, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. And now, she was gone.

Why am I not enough? he thought bitterly, the question ringing through his mind. I love her more than anything, but I can’t fix this. I can’t fix her. I can’t even fix myself.

Carlos let out a shaky breath, a sob finally escaping as the weight of it all became too much. I lost our baby too, he thought, his chest tightening with the realization. And now I’m losing her. And I can’t do anything about it.

Outside, Y/N’s footsteps were heavy against the pavement, her body trembling as she walked farther away from the house. The cold night air bit at her skin, but she barely felt it, too lost in her own whirlwind of emotions. Guilt, shame, anger—they all swirled together, threatening to consume her.

Why did I leave? she thought bitterly, her mind screaming at her. Why did I walk away from him?

Her heart pounded in her chest, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. She wanted to stop, to turn back, but something in her wouldn’t let her. The weight of her guilt pressed down on her, making her feel small, unworthy.

You don’t deserve him, her mind whispered, cruel and relentless. You’re broken. You lost his baby. How could he ever love you after that?

The thought made her stomach twist painfully, tears streaming down her cheeks once more. She had failed him. She had failed them both. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all her fault.

But it’s not just your loss, another voice whispered, softer but more painful. He lost the baby too.

That thought stopped her in her tracks, her heart clenching in her chest as the guilt washed over her in waves. Carlos had lost just as much as she had, yet here she was, leaving him behind, abandoning him in his own grief.

What am I doing? she thought desperately, her hands trembling as she wiped at her tears. He needs me. He’s hurting too. How could I just walk away?

Suddenly, she felt her heart drop into her stomach as the weight of it all hit her like a punch to the gut. She had been so consumed by her own pain, her own guilt, that she had pushed him away. And now… now she had hurt him even more.

I can’t do this. I can’t leave him.

Without another thought, she turned around, her feet moving before her mind could catch up. She had to go back. She had to make this right.

But before she could take more than a few steps, she saw a figure running toward her in the dim light. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized it was Carlos, his face pale with fear, his eyes red-rimmed and wide with desperation.

“Y/N!” he called, his voice hoarse, shaky. “Please, please don’t leave me!”

Her heart shattered at the sound of his voice, and she ran toward him, her body trembling with both relief and guilt. When they finally met, she crashed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably as he held her close, his arms wrapping around her like a lifeline.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered between sobs, burying her face in his chest. “Carlos, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to leave, I didn’t— I just—” Her words fell apart as the weight of everything they had lost hit her again, but this time, she wasn’t running from it.

Carlos held her tightly, his own tears falling freely now, his body shaking as he tried to keep himself together for her. “It’s okay,” he whispered into her hair, his voice cracking with emotion. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, her hands gripping his shirt, her eyes filled with anguish. “No, it’s not okay. I left you. I hurt you. I… I’m so messed up, Carlos, and I don’t know how to fix it. I hate myself for what happened, and I don’t know how to live with that. How can you stand to even look at me?”

Carlos cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze, his eyes filled with nothing but love and pain. “Because I love you, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I love you more than anything, and nothing—nothing—is going to change that. We lost our baby, but we haven’t lost each other. We can’t lose each other. I won’t let that happen.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her tears falling faster as she shook her head. “But I’m broken, Carlos. I don’t know how to be okay again.”

Carlos’s heart ached at her words, but he held her tighter, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “You’re not broken,” he whispered fiercely. “You’re hurting, and that’s okay. We’re both hurting. But we’ll get through this together, mi amor. I don’t care how long it takes, I’m not leaving you. I’ll be here for every bad day, every moment you think you can’t do this. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

Y/N let out a choked sob, her hands gripping his arms as if afraid he might slip away. “I’m so scared,” she whispered, her voice small and fragile.

Carlos pressed his forehead against hers, his own tears mixing with hers. “I know,” he whispered. “I’m scared too. But we’re going to be okay. I promise you, Y/N. You’re not alone. You’re never alone.”

She closed her eyes, her body shaking as she leaned into him, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know how to fix this, how to fix herself. But in that moment, wrapped in Carlos’s arms, she realized that maybe she didn’t have to. Maybe they could heal together, slowly, piece by piece.

“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Carlos shook his head, pulling her even closer. “You deserve the world,” he whispered back, his voice raw. “And I’m never going to stop giving it to you.”

She pressed her face into his chest, her sobs finally subsiding, though the pain lingered. But this time, she let herself lean on him, let herself trust that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way through this together.

“Promise me you’ll stay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Carlos kissed the top of her head, his heart breaking for her, for them. “I promise,” he whispered, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world. “I’m never letting you go.”

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Y/N believed him.

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its-avalon-08 · 1 month ago

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Hi, could you do a Fernando Alonso one In which he and reader have been together for over 2 years, and during the break between Singapore and Austin, he secretly plans how to propose to her, at the same time they enjoy having quality time together without the chaos of race weeks, like taking her to a night out in Monaco in his new Aston Martin Valkyrie, in addition to going to visit the reader's family, in which during this visit he sees her interacting with the children of her family and sees that this is what he wants to have a family with her, in which he does not know that she found out she was pregnant and was going to announce it. And during the last week of the break, he closes her favorite restaurant in Monaco and proposes to her, and after they arrive at their apartment, he as a last gift, presents her with a British Cocker Spaniel puppy, and she finally announces that she is pregnant by giving him a mini Aston Martin shirt with his number and only announces the engagement and pregnancy to the public during the Austin GP after he gets his first podium of the year.

my future has you (fa2)

✦ pairing - fernando alonso x female!reader

✦ genre - cute, fluff, engagement, pregnancy

The paddock was always a whirlwind of noise, engines roaring, teams scrambling, and fans clamoring for glimpses of their favorite drivers. It was organized chaos, something Fernando Alonso had grown accustomed to over the years. He thrived in it—focused, sharp, and always calculating his next move.

But two years ago, something shifted. Something—or rather, someone—made the chaos feel…different. Lighter.

He remembered that day vividly. It had been a particularly tense race weekend, and Fernando had been storming through the McLaren garage, his mind racing with strategy adjustments when he almost collided with her. She was standing just outside one of the hospitality suites, talking animatedly to a colleague. Her laugh had caught his attention first—bright, unfiltered, like she had no care in the world.

And then, as if sensing his presence, she turned. Their eyes met, and for a moment, Fernando forgot the race entirely.

“Watch where you're going, Alonso," she had teased, a small grin playing on her lips. "Almost knocked me over.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused by her boldness. “I wasn’t the one standing in the middle of the walkway.”

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to keep an eye out next time, won't you?" she shot back, a playful glint in her eye. Before he could reply, she turned back to her conversation, leaving him standing there, slightly stunned.

"Do you remember how smug you were that day?" she asked, breaking into his thoughts as they sat on their balcony, the warm Monaco evening wrapping around them.

"Smug? Yo? I was being professional," Fernando replied with a smirk, leaning back in his chair.

She laughed, shaking her head. "Professional? You spent the entire next day trying to find reasons to walk by the hospitality area. I saw you, you know."

"Maybe I wanted to check out the competition," he said, casually sipping his drink, eyes twinkling. "Make sure McLaren wasn't stealing any of our secrets."

She nudged him with her foot. "Or maybe you just wanted another chance to run into me."

He smiled at that, not bothering to hide it. "Maybe I did."

That had been the start of it. From that fleeting moment in the paddock, things had unfolded naturally between them—long conversations over post-race dinners, quiet walks along whatever city they found themselves in, and late-night texts that quickly turned into something neither of them could ignore.

Their relationship was built on easy conversation, shared silences, and mutual respect for each other's world. She understood racing in a way few others did—her job kept her involved in the sport, but she wasn’t just a fan. She had her own career, her own life, and Fernando admired that about her.

"You always act like you were the smooth one," she teased, bringing her knees up to her chest as she curled up on the lounge chair. "But you were nervous the first time you asked me out."

Fernando scoffed, though the memory made him chuckle. "Nervous? I wasn’t nervous. I was…strategic."

"Strategic?" She burst out laughing. "You stammered for a good five seconds before you managed to ask if I wanted to grab dinner. You looked terrified."

“I was tired," he said defensively, grinning. "Long race weekend. Tough strategy calls."

"Sure, tough strategy calls," she echoed, rolling her eyes, but there was a softness in her gaze that hadn’t been there two years ago. It was something only time could bring—time spent building trust, learning each other's quirks, navigating the chaos of life together.

"Well, whatever I said, it worked. We’re here now, aren’t we?"

She smiled, leaning across the small table to take his hand. "Yes, we are. And I wouldn't change any of it."

Their dynamic had always been easy, with a kind of natural rhythm. They challenged each other, but never in a way that felt combative. She was the only person who could tease Fernando Alonso, Formula 1 champion, and make him laugh at himself. And for her, Fernando was a constant, someone she could depend on no matter how busy the paddock got.

"You know, it’s funny,” she said, looking out at the view of the harbor. “I wasn’t expecting this—any of this. I thought I’d be around F1 for work, sure, but I never thought I’d end up dating one of the drivers.”

"One of the drivers? Ay, I’m not just ‘one of the drivers.’” He gave her a mock-offended look. “I’m Fernando Alonso."

"Okay, mister two-time world champion,” she teased, mimicking his Spanish accent. “I know exactly who you are.”

He squeezed her hand gently, a smile playing on his lips. "And I know exactly who you are. The woman who keeps me grounded."

She softened at that, her fingers lacing with his. "I think we ground each other."

He nodded, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light of the evening. "You’re the best thing that’s happened to me outside of the car."

"Well, that’s a big compliment," she said, smiling. "But honestly, sometimes I think I’m just trying to keep up with you. This world…it moves so fast. But when it’s just us…like this…" She trailed off, searching for the right words. "It feels like I can breathe."

Fernando watched her closely, knowing exactly what she meant. Racing was a relentless sport, always pushing, always demanding. But with her, there was balance. A sense of calm amidst the madness.

"With you, I’m not Alonso the driver," he said softly. "I’m just…me."

"That’s because I don’t care about the trophies," she replied, her thumb brushing over the back of his hand. "I care about you. The person you are when the helmet comes off."

He looked at her for a long moment, his heart swelling in a way that felt rare. She saw him—truly saw him, beyond the victories and the records. And in this life, that was more precious than any championship.

“I love you,” he said quietly, the words carrying weight they had always held but now felt heavier.

Her smile was soft, her eyes filled with warmth. “I love you too, mi amor.”

And just like that, Fernando knew he had made the right decision. He had found his person—someone who knew both the man and the driver, and loved both in equal measure.

The next step? He was ready for it.

time skip

The break between the Singapore and Austin races was a rare window of calm. No strategizing, no race-day adrenaline, no media obligations—just time. Time to breathe, to reset, and, for Fernando, time to be with her.

They had spent the past few days soaking up the simplicity of life without the whirlwind of Formula 1. Lazy mornings in their Monaco apartment, walks along the harbor, and, of course, late-night drives in his new Aston Martin Valkyrie. The car was a masterpiece—sleek, powerful, and exhilarating, much like the woman sitting beside him in the passenger seat. But as much as he loved the car, it was the quiet moments with her that made these breaks special.

Tonight had been perfect—a long drive, the streets of Monaco glowing under the streetlights, her laughter echoing as the Valkyrie’s engine roared through the tunnels. They’d ended the night at one of their favorite little spots for dinner, a quiet corner restaurant with no paparazzi and no pressure.

But as Fernando lay in bed now, his arm draped over her sleeping form, his thoughts weren’t on the Aston Martin or the adrenaline of the races. They were on her. And a plan—one that had been quietly forming in his mind for weeks.

I want to marry her.

The thought felt surreal every time it crossed his mind. He, Fernando Alonso, the man known for his sharp focus and relentless drive, was thinking about engagement rings, proposals, and—God—family. He shifted slightly, careful not to wake her, and let his gaze linger on her peaceful expression. There was a softness to her that contrasted so beautifully with the sharpness of the racing world. It grounded him.

He wasn’t sure when exactly he had started to feel this way, but now that the idea had taken root, it wouldn’t leave him alone.

A few days later, they were on a plane to visit her family. It was a trip they'd planned months ago, but now, with the idea of proposing on his mind, it felt different. Like every moment with her family was magnified, every interaction scrutinized through a new lens.

It was during one of these moments that everything became crystal clear.

They were at her parents’ house, the familiar warmth of a home filled with love and laughter surrounding them. She had disappeared into the backyard with her nephews and nieces, and Fernando had followed, leaning casually against the doorframe as he watched her.

She was on her knees, laughing as one of the toddlers attempted to catch a ball she rolled gently toward him. Another child was tugging on her shirt, demanding attention, and she handled it all with such ease—patience and joy radiating from her in a way that made Fernando’s heart stutter.

Look at her…

The way she smiled at the kids, the way she wiped the smallest one’s face with the sleeve of her shirt after an ice cream accident, the way she ruffled their hair and cheered them on during their make-shift games—it was so natural. So effortless.

God, she was beautiful. Not just in the way she looked (though she was stunning), but in the way she loved. The way she cared.

She looked up at him then, catching his eye. “You’re just going to stand there and watch?” she teased, waving him over. “Come join the fun, Alonso.”

He smiled but stayed rooted in place. I want this. I want this every day. The thought hit him so hard, it made him feel almost dizzy. She was the woman he wanted to spend his life with. The woman he wanted to build a family with.

The idea of Fernando Alonso, the fierce, focused racing driver, being a dad had always seemed distant, something he’d think about later, much later. But now, watching her surrounded by her family, hearing the way the kids giggled and clung to her like she was their favorite person in the world, the thought didn’t feel so distant anymore.

She would be an incredible mother.

She stood up, carrying one of the younger kids on her hip as she made her way back toward him. “What’s that look for?” she asked, tilting her head at him with that mischievous smile he adored.

He shook his head, trying to shake the overwhelming feeling that had just hit him. “Nothing,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Just… watching you.”

Her smile softened, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re staring,” she teased gently.

I’m staring because I’m realizing just how much I love you. But he didn’t say that. Not yet.

Instead, he reached out and took the toddler from her arms, bouncing the little girl gently. “I think she likes me more than you,” he said, smirking as the child immediately clung to his shirt.

“Oh please, she’s just being polite,” she laughed, but her eyes shone with a different kind of warmth—a tenderness that made his chest tighten.

As they spent the rest of the day with her family, Fernando couldn’t stop thinking about it. The image of her surrounded by children, of her glowing with joy and love, kept replaying in his mind. Every time he looked at her, it was like the vision of their future together became clearer.

I have to propose.

The idea had been there for a while, but now it wasn’t just a thought—it was a need. He needed to make her his in every sense of the word. And soon.

That night, as they lay in bed in her childhood home, she curled up against him, resting her head on his chest. The steady rhythm of her breathing was soothing, but Fernando’s mind was racing.

“I had a good day,” she mumbled sleepily. “I love watching you with my family. The kids adore you, you know.”

He smiled, brushing a hand through her hair. “I adore them too,” he replied softly. And then, without really thinking, he added, “I think… I could get used to that.”

She shifted slightly, looking up at him, curiosity in her eyes. “Get used to what?”

Fernando swallowed, his heart beating faster. Say it. Just say it. “Kids. Family. You.”

She blinked, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he had said too much. But then, her face softened into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

“Well, you’ve got me,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “The rest… we can figure out together.”

His heart clenched. She had no idea how much that meant to him.

I’m going to marry her.

He had already started thinking about how to make it happen. He’d take her out to her favorite restaurant in Monaco, make the night perfect, and when the time was right, he’d get down on one knee and ask her to spend the rest of her life with him.

But for now, he held her close, letting the warmth of her body against his be enough. He had a plan, but more importantly, he had her. And that was everything.

Soon, he promised himself, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she drifted to sleep in his arms. Soon.

time skip

Chapter 3: The Proposal

The last week of the break had arrived, and the tension in Fernando's chest had been building. Not the kind of tension that came with racing—this was different. This was excitement, nervousness, and an overwhelming sense of love all at once. He’d spent days planning the proposal, every detail carefully considered. He wanted it to be perfect, just like her.

Tonight was the night.

He had reserved a table at her favorite restaurant in Monaco, a quiet spot overlooking the water, where the lights from the yachts danced on the waves like stars. They had been here countless times before, but tonight, it would be different.

She had no idea what was coming. She had simply thought it was a casual date night, another sweet moment in the blissful calm of their break. But for Fernando, tonight meant everything.

He watched her as they walked into the restaurant, her hand gently resting in his, her face glowing under the soft lights. God, she’s beautiful. That thought echoed in his mind more and more these days, and tonight, it resonated with a deeper intensity.

“Table for two,” the hostess greeted them with a warm smile, leading them to a private corner with a stunning view of the harbor.

She turned to him, her eyes twinkling. “You really outdid yourself, Alonso. The view is stunning.”

Not as stunning as you, he thought, but all he did was smile, pulling out her chair for her. “Only the best for you.”

As the night went on, he couldn’t stop staring at her. The way she laughed, the way she spoke with such ease, the way she reached across the table and squeezed his hand—it all made him fall a little more in love, if that was even possible.

But beneath his calm exterior, Fernando’s heart was racing. The small velvet box in his jacket pocket felt heavy with significance. Every time his hand brushed against it, his pulse quickened. It’s time.

As they finished dessert, the moment arrived. Fernando took a deep breath, stood from his chair, and slowly made his way around to her side. She looked up at him, confused at first, but then her eyes widened as she realized what was happening.

He knelt down on one knee.

Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes filling with a mix of shock and emotion. “Fernando…”

He opened the box, revealing the ring—a simple, elegant diamond that sparkled under the soft lights. This is it. This is the moment. His heart was in his throat, but his voice was steady.

“You know I’m not a man of many words,” he began, his gaze locked on hers. “But with you, I’ve found a love I didn’t think I was capable of. You’ve brought peace to my life, joy, and something I never knew I needed. Every moment with you feels like home.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, her hand still covering her mouth as she listened to him.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he continued, his own emotions threatening to break through. “I want to build a family with you, to share everything—good and bad, highs and lows. I love you more than I can ever put into words. Will you marry me?”

The world seemed to stand still. He could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears as he waited for her response.

She blinked back tears, her smile trembling as she nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course, I’ll marry you!”

Fernando’s heart soared. He slipped the ring onto her finger, his hands shaking ever so slightly, and then pulled her into his arms as the restaurant staff quietly applauded in the background. He held her close, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair, feeling the steady rhythm of her heart against his.

She said yes.

Later, back in their apartment, they were still buzzing from the excitement. She couldn’t stop staring at the ring, her eyes sparkling with happiness every time she looked at it. Fernando, however, had one more surprise up his sleeve.

“Stay here,” he said with a smirk, disappearing into the bedroom.

When he returned, he was holding a small bundle in his arms—a soft, floppy-eared British Cocker Spaniel puppy with the sweetest eyes. The puppy wriggled in his arms, his tiny tail wagging as Fernando carefully placed him in her lap.

Her eyes widened in shock, her hands immediately reaching out to cradle the tiny dog. “Fernando, oh my God,” she gasped, her voice breaking with emotion. “Is he… is he ours?”

Fernando sat beside her, his heart swelling at the sight of her so overwhelmed with joy. “He’s ours,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “A little gift… to start our family.”

Tears streamed down her face as she held the puppy close. “He’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

But then, she bit her lip, a look of nervous excitement flashing in her eyes as if she was holding onto a secret of her own.

“There’s… one more thing,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Fernando raised an eyebrow, curious. “What is it?”

She reached into her bag, pulling out a tiny, neatly folded piece of clothing. As she handed it to him, his heart skipped a beat. He unfolded it to reveal a miniature Aston Martin racing shirt, with his number emblazoned on the back.

For a moment, he didn’t understand. His brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced from the tiny shirt to her, waiting for an explanation.

And then it hit him.

His breath caught in his throat. No…

“We’re having a baby,” she whispered, her voice soft and full of love. “I found out a few weeks ago. I wanted to tell you, but… tonight just felt like the perfect moment.”

Fernando stared at the shirt, then at her, then back again. His heart pounded in his chest, emotions swirling so intensely he could hardly breathe. I’m going to be a father.

He blinked, his eyes already filling with tears he couldn’t stop. “You’re… you’re pregnant?”

She nodded, tears spilling from her own eyes now as she watched him process the news. “We’re going to have a baby, Fernando.”

The joy that surged through him was unlike anything he had ever felt. He didn’t know what to say, how to express the overwhelming love and happiness coursing through his veins. So, instead, he pulled her into his arms, holding her as tightly as he could, his face buried in her neck.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much.”

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the puppy nestled between them, the future now brighter than ever before.

Fernando’s mind raced, imagining the life they were about to build together. A life filled with love, laughter, and now, the incredible gift of a child. I’m going to be a father. We’re going to be a family.

He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands as he kissed her gently, his heart full to the brim. “You’ve given me everything I could ever want,” he whispered against her lips. “A family. A future. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

She smiled, her fingers tracing his jawline. “We’re both lucky, Fernando.”

And as they sat there, surrounded by love, Fernando realized that this—this—was his greatest victory of all.

time skip

The buzz around the Austin Grand Prix was electric, but for Y/N, the excitement wasn’t just about the race. She stood in the paddock, watching as Fernando prepared for what felt like an important day—more important than usual. His confidence radiated from him, his focus sharp as ever. He was determined, and she could sense that today might just be the day.

It was the final race before their big announcement. Their engagement, her pregnancy—their whole future, waiting to be shared with the world. The past few weeks had been surreal, filled with love and quiet moments of preparation for the life they were building together.

Y/N's hand instinctively rested on her barely-there baby bump, her heart fluttering as she watched Fernando step into his Aston Martin for the race. He gave her a quick, reassuring smile before lowering his visor, and she smiled back, her love for him swelling in her chest.

I hope he knows how proud I am of him. No matter what happens today, he's already won in my eyes.

The race was intense, filled with the usual heart-stopping moments that came with Formula 1. But by the final laps, Fernando was in third place, holding steady. The commentators were going wild, the crowd roaring with excitement, and Y/N’s heart raced as she watched him maneuver through the last corners of the Circuit of the Americas.

When Fernando crossed the finish line in third, securing his first podium of the year, the explosion of emotions was overwhelming. Tears filled her eyes as she watched him raise his fist in triumph, the crowd cheering his name.

He did it. The pride she felt was immeasurable, and not just for the podium, but for the man he was—strong, loving, determined. Her heart swelled as she thought about the life they were about to share with the world.

In the cool-down room, Fernando could barely contain his excitement. As soon as the race ended, he thought of her—his Y/N—waiting for him. This podium meant more than just points or trophies; it marked a milestone in his life, a turning point that he couldn’t wait to share with her. The moment he stepped off the podium, his mind was already on the next thing—announcing their future to the world.

After the celebrations and interviews, Fernando made his way back to the paddock, his eyes scanning the crowd for her. And then, there she was. She stood near the Aston Martin garage, her eyes shining with pride and love, the faintest hint of tears in her eyes.

As soon as their eyes met, Fernando’s expression softened. He walked straight to her, not caring about the cameras or the spectators. He pulled her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he whispered, “We did it.”

She laughed softly, resting her head against his chest. “You did it. I’m so proud of you, Nando.”

He pulled back slightly, his hands resting on her waist as he looked into her eyes. “Are you ready to tell them?”

Y/N bit her lip, nerves bubbling inside her. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous—it wasn’t like they hadn’t planned this moment. But still, announcing something so personal, so life-changing, felt monumental.

I can’t believe we’re about to tell the world. Our family. Our future.

She nodded, smiling up at him. “I’m ready.”

Fernando squeezed her hand before turning to the media gathered around them. He took a deep breath, his arm wrapped protectively around Y/N’s shoulders as he spoke into the microphone.

“I just want to thank everyone for their support today,” he began, his voice steady despite the emotion he felt. “This podium means a lot to me, but there’s something even more important that I want to share with you all.”

The murmurs from the crowd grew louder, curiosity sparking as they realized something big was coming.

Fernando glanced down at Y/N, his expression softening. “Y/N and I… we’re engaged.”

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, followed by applause and cheers. Y/N felt her cheeks flush as she smiled, her hand instinctively reaching for Fernando’s.

“But that’s not all,” Fernando continued, his eyes shining with excitement. “We’re also expecting a baby.”

The reaction was instant—a wave of congratulations, gasps, and exclamations of joy. Y/N felt tears welling in her eyes as the weight of the moment settled over her. We’re really doing this. We’re starting our family.

The media buzzed with questions and excitement, but all Y/N could focus on was the way Fernando looked at her, his love and pride radiating from him like warmth on a cold day. She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder as the cameras flashed around them.

As the noise around them swirled, Fernando leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I can’t wait to meet our little one.”

Y/N’s heart swelled, the gravity of their new life hitting her all over again. She squeezed his hand, her smile soft and full of love. “Neither can I.”

Later that evening, after the chaos of the day had settled, they returned to their apartment. It was quiet now, just the two of them and their puppy, who was sprawled out on the couch. Fernando sat beside Y/N, pulling her close, his hand resting gently on her stomach.

“Today was perfect,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. “You, the baby… it’s everything I ever wanted.”

Y/N turned to look at him, her eyes brimming with tears of happiness. “I love you, Nando. More than words can say.”

He kissed her gently, his hand still on her stomach, feeling the connection to the new life they were bringing into the world. “I love you too, more than I ever thought was possible.”

As they sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. The future was theirs—full of love, full of family, full of the life they had always dreamed of.

And it all starts now.

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its-avalon-08 · 1 month ago

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Hi, could you write a story with George, where he is protective of the reader? I don’t really have much of a plot, but I would like a bit of angst and fluff. Thanks!

all my love (gr63)

✦ pairing - george russell x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, jealousy, protective george

George Russell is always fiercely protective of Y/N, whether they're in the fast-paced world of Formula 1 or just enjoying quiet moments at home. His protective nature shows in the little things—like making sure she's safe from paparazzi pushing through the crowd, or standing up to people who try to belittle her. He keeps a watchful eye on her during events, always ready to step in when someone gets too close or crosses a line. No matter how tense things might get between them, George's protective instinct never falters. To him, Y/N is everything, and he'll always go the extra mile to keep her safe and remind the world that she's his.

It was the day after a big race, and George had just secured a podium finish. The media frenzy was at its peak, with paparazzi and fans crowding every corner outside the hotel where George and Y/N were staying. Y/N had accompanied George to an event that evening, and as they walked out together, hand in hand, the mob outside seemed more aggressive than usual.

"Stay close," George whispered, his thumb gently rubbing the back of Y/N's hand.

Y/N nodded, trying to stay calm despite the growing chaos. The crowd of fans surged forward, phones held high, while photographers shouted for George's attention. The security guards tried to hold them back, but it was clear they were struggling.

Suddenly, there was a push from behind, and Y/N stumbled forward. The momentum from the crowd caused her to lose her footing, and George instinctively reached out to steady her.

"Oi! Watch it!" George shouted, his protective instincts kicking in. He tried to shield Y/N with his body as the fans kept pressing forward.

But the crowd didn’t stop. In the confusion, someone jostled George from the side, and before he could fully regain his balance, another push sent him tumbling to the ground, pulling Y/N with him. She gasped, her heart pounding in her chest as she scrambled to get up.

Out of nowhere, Lewis Hamilton, who had been nearby, immediately stepped in. His arm wrapped around Y/N, gently but firmly pulling her away from the chaos. “I got you, I got you,” he whispered, his calm demeanor doing little to hide the concern in his voice.

Y/N looked over her shoulder in panic, her eyes searching for George. “George! George, are you okay?”

George was already getting to his feet, brushing off the dust from his trousers, but there was a deep scowl on his face. He winced slightly, favoring his left leg, and his jaw clenched in frustration.

“Back off!” George shouted angrily at the crowd, his voice sharp and filled with fury. “What the hell is wrong with you lot? You just shoved her!”

The crowd stilled for a moment, clearly taken aback by his outburst. Even the security guards began pushing the people back more forcefully, creating a space between George, Y/N, and the aggressive fans.

Y/N, still in shock, held onto Lewis, her heart racing as she watched George. "George, you’re hurt…"

George limped over to her, his frustration melting into worry as soon as he saw her in Lewis’ arms. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” His voice softened instantly as he reached for her, ignoring the pain in his leg.

“I’m fine,” Y/N whispered, her eyes filled with concern for him. “But you’re not…”

“I don’t care about me,” George said fiercely, pulling her close despite his obvious discomfort. “I care about you. They shouldn’t have done that.”

Lewis gently let go of Y/N, stepping back slightly to give the couple some space. “You guys good? I can make sure they clear this area if you want.”

George nodded, his arm firmly around Y/N’s shoulders. “Thanks, mate. Just… get her inside. I’ll handle this.”

Lewis shot George a reassuring look before turning to the nearby security team, instructing them to handle the situation. Y/N glanced up at George, worry evident in her eyes as he tried to stand tall, though the pain was clear on his face.

“You shouldn’t be handling anything,” Y/N said, her voice trembling slightly. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine, love,” George said, his tone softening as he looked into her eyes. “I just… I lost it when I saw them push you like that. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Y/N shook her head, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “You don’t have to apologize. You always protect me, but I hate that you got hurt because of me.”

George held her close, his chin resting on the top of her head. “I’d get hurt a hundred times over if it means keeping you safe. Nothing matters more to me than you.”

From a distance, Lewis gave them a small, supportive smile before heading back inside, leaving the couple to recover from the chaos.

As the security team finally cleared the crowd, Y/N looked up at George, her hand gently resting on his cheek. “Let’s get you inside and take care of that leg, alright?”

George smiled down at her, his protective demeanor softening. “Only if you promise to stay with me.”

Y/N smiled back, leaning up to kiss him softly. “Always.”

It was supposed to be a quiet family dinner at Y/N’s parents' house in London, but as always, the atmosphere had turned tense. George had been by Y/N’s side the entire evening, but he could sense her unease from the moment they arrived. He could see why, too. Her family, particularly her parents, had a habit of being overly critical, constantly making snide remarks that chipped away at Y/N’s confidence.

Y/N sat next to George at the long dining table, her eyes focused on her plate as her mother launched into yet another judgmental comment.

“You know, Y/N, it’s a wonder how you manage to keep up with George’s lifestyle when you’re so busy with your little business,” her mother said with a condescending smile. “I mean, it’s cute, but don’t you think it’s time to settle down and focus on something more stable?”

Her father, sitting at the head of the table, nodded in agreement. “Yes, George is a successful man in the prime of his career. Surely, you can’t expect him to be patient with you forever.”

Y/N’s grip tightened around her fork, her knuckles white as she tried to keep her emotions in check. She always had to endure these dinners, these backhanded comments that made her feel small. But it hurt even more now with George there, witnessing it all.

George could feel the tension radiating off of Y/N, and he wasn’t having any of it. He had been quiet for most of the evening, but hearing Y/N’s family tear her down, yet again, was the last straw.

Before Y/N could respond, George stood up from his seat, his expression hard and unwavering. “I’m sorry, but I can’t sit here and listen to this anymore.”

Y/N’s parents both looked up, startled by the sudden interruption. Her mother raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t appreciate the way you talk to her,” George said firmly, his voice calm but filled with a quiet intensity. He looked at Y/N’s parents with a kind of authority they hadn’t expected. “Y/N is the smartest, most capable person I’ve ever met. The way you undermine her achievements, her hard work, it’s—honestly, it’s disrespectful.”

Her father frowned. “George, we’re just being honest. She could be doing more with her life. Someone has to push her to do better.”

George’s jaw tightened, his hands gripping the back of his chair as he leaned forward slightly. “She is doing more with her life. She’s built a successful business on her own, while managing to balance everything that comes with being in a relationship with me and the crazy life I live. She’s strong, she’s incredible, and frankly, the fact that you can’t see that is disappointing.”

Y/N’s mother blinked, clearly taken aback by George’s words. “George, we’re just trying to look out for her.”

“No,” George interrupted, his voice low but firm. “You’re tearing her down, and it’s not okay. I won’t sit here and watch it happen.”

Y/N’s heart was pounding in her chest as she watched George stand up for her, his protective energy filling the room. She had never seen anyone stand up to her parents like this, and certainly not for her. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away, trying to stay composed.

Her parents sat in stunned silence as George turned to Y/N, offering her his hand. “We’re leaving.”

Y/N, still processing the moment, nodded silently and slipped her hand into his. They left the dining room without another word, the tension hanging thick in the air behind them. The moment they were outside, Y/N let out a shaky breath, her hand still gripping George’s tightly.

“George…” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

George turned to her, his expression softening as he cupped her face in his hands. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that. Ever.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she looked up at him, her heart swelling with gratitude and love. “I… I didn’t know how to say anything. I’ve put up with it for so long, I just…”

“You shouldn’t have to put up with it,” George said softly, brushing a tear from her cheek. “You’re amazing, Y/N. And I love you, just as you are. I needed them to know that.”

Without another word, Y/N surged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and kissing him with all the emotion she had bottled up inside. The kiss was desperate, filled with relief, love, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude. George’s arms circled around her waist, pulling her close, his hands resting on the small of her back as he deepened the kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, Y/N rested her forehead against his, her eyes still closed as she savored the moment. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

George pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “You never have to thank me for standing up for you. I’ll always protect you, Y/N. Always.”

Y/N smiled through the remaining tears, her heart full as she leaned into his embrace. In that moment, she knew she had found someone who would love her unconditionally, someone who would always have her back—even against the people who should have supported her the most.

It had been a long day, and tensions between Y/N and George were running high. They had argued that morning over something trivial, but as the hours passed, the silence between them had grown heavier. George was short with her, and Y/N, equally stubborn, gave him the cold shoulder. They barely spoke throughout the day, both too proud to break the silence first.

But they had plans for the evening—an invite to a club for a post-race celebration with the team. Neither of them wanted to cancel, so they dressed up and went along, even though the air between them was still tense.

Y/N wore a sleek black dress that hugged her figure perfectly, her hair cascading down her back in loose waves. She looked stunning, and George couldn’t help but steal glances at her as they walked into the club, though he said nothing. His jaw was set, his mood still sour from their earlier argument.

The club was alive with music, lights flashing as people danced and laughed. George immediately joined his team, catching up with Lewis and a few others. Y/N, still frustrated with him, decided to grab a drink and wandered towards the bar. As she stood there, sipping her cocktail and trying to shake off the lingering tension, one of the mechanics from another team slid up beside her.

"Hey there," the mechanic said, flashing a grin. "You look a bit lonely. Where's your guy?"

Y/N glanced at him, her eyes narrowing slightly, but she forced a polite smile. "He’s around," she said, keeping her tone neutral.

The mechanic didn’t take the hint and leaned in closer, clearly interested. “Well, if he’s leaving someone like you alone, he’s making a big mistake. How about we get out of here? I know a quieter spot down the street.”

Before Y/N could respond, she felt a familiar presence behind her. George had been keeping an eye on her from across the room and, seeing the mechanic's approach, had immediately crossed the floor. His hand slid possessively around her waist, pulling her firmly against him.

“She’s not interested,” George said coldly, his voice low and threatening as he stared down the mechanic.

The mechanic raised his hands defensively. “Hey, man, no harm done. Just talking.”

“Yeah, well, you can go talk to someone else,” George said, his jaw tight. His hold on Y/N didn’t loosen as the mechanic walked away, casting one last glance at her before disappearing into the crowd.

Y/N looked up at George, her heart pounding—not from fear, but from the way George’s protective side always surfaced when it came to her. His touch, his stance, the way he looked at the mechanic like he would tear him apart if he tried anything—it was all undeniably attractive, even after a full day of tension between them.

Teasingly, she raised an eyebrow. “Even when you’re pissed, you still get jealous, huh?”

George’s lips twitched, his icy mood melting just a little as he met her gaze. He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his arm still firmly around her waist. “I might be pissed off, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, “but you’re still mine. That hasn’t changed.”

The heat in his words sent a shiver down her spine, and she couldn’t help but smile, her frustration from earlier starting to fade. “Yours, huh?” she teased, her eyes sparkling as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

George’s expression softened as he pulled her closer, his forehead resting against hers. “Yeah. Always.”

The argument that had been hanging between them all day suddenly felt insignificant. There, in the noise and chaos of the club, all Y/N could focus on was George—how fiercely he loved her, how protective he always was, even when they fought.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

George sighed, his thumb brushing her cheek gently. “I’m sorry too. I hate when we fight.”

“Me too,” Y/N replied, her voice soft as she leaned into his touch. “But I kind of like how protective you get when other guys try to hit on me.”

George chuckled, finally letting go of the tension from earlier. “Don’t get used to it. I’m not going to make a habit of this.”

She laughed softly, pulling him down for another kiss, this one longer and deeper. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N grinned. “Even if you’re mad, you still love me.”

George rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips as he held her close. “You have no idea.”

With his arms wrapped securely around her, the two of them forgot about the argument that had weighed them down all day. In that moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they were together, still each other’s, no matter what.

#george russel imagine #george russel x reader #george russell #gr63 #gr63 x reader #gr63 smau #sir lewis hamilton #formula 1 #f1 imagine #formula one #y/n #ava speaks #requests #lewis hamilton #mercedes

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its-avalon-08 · 1 month ago

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Hi, could you write a Carlos x reader story where the reader is an actress and she’s promoting her latest film with her co-stars? There are a lot of rumors that her two main co-stars are very close to her, especially the lead actor, and they even went to an award ceremony and walked the red carpet together because Carlos couldn’t attend at the time. Carlos has a hard time dealing with the rumors, but the reader reassures him. However, during a viral interview, the reader’s co-star admits to having had a major crush on her and says he thinks she’s the most beautiful actress in the film. Carlos goes crazy, as does the internet, and he decides to accompany her to the Venice Film Festival to silence the rumors and show the guy that he’s the reader’s boyfriend.

{ i loved this one so much }

love bites and interviews (cs55)

✦ pairing - carlos sainz x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, arguments, inappropriate comments, comfort

Carlos Sainz had never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. At least, not until Y/N came into his life.

She had this effortless way of bringing out his softer side, pulling out the parts of him that even he didn’t know existed. It was as if everything clicked the moment he met her. The busy life of a Formula 1 driver, filled with races, media obligations, and constant travel, felt more grounded whenever she was around.

It wasn’t just that Y/N was stunning, though she certainly was. It was the way she made him feel. When he’d come home after a grueling race weekend, tired and worn, she was always there, waiting with a warm smile and open arms.

Carlos could still remember the first time they realized what they had was something different, something extraordinary. They’d been dating for about six months, her rising star in the film industry clashing with his career’s demands. But no matter how hectic things got, they always made time for each other.

"Come here," he whispered, pulling her closer to him on their couch one night after a particularly long day. They didn’t need to say much; words weren’t necessary when they were together. The way she curled up against him, her fingers tracing absentminded patterns on his chest, was enough.

"I missed you," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, as if confessing something profound.

"I’m right here," Carlos replied, his hand running through her hair. "I’m always here."

And that’s what they were—each other’s constants. They laughed, teased, and supported one another through everything. He would be on the track, pushing the limits of his car, and Y/N would send him little messages of encouragement just before his qualifying lap. She understood him in a way no one else could, and Carlos, in return, was her biggest fan, always there at her premieres, on the red carpet, or watching from the sidelines with pride glowing in his eyes.

Y/N loved how Carlos was both her biggest cheerleader and her calm in the storm. When the pressures of her own career weighed on her, she knew he’d be there, offering a sense of security she had never experienced before.

"Don’t worry, cariño," he’d say, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead whenever she was feeling overwhelmed. "We’ve got this. You’re not alone."

Their relationship wasn’t without challenges—between her film sets and his races, they were often separated by continents. But they never let it come between them. Instead, they embraced the distance, always making time for each other. Late-night phone calls, quick weekend visits, and thoughtful surprises were part of their routine. It was a love that thrived despite the odds.

"How did we get so lucky?" Y/N asked one evening as they sat by the fire, her legs draped over his lap, a content smile playing on her lips.

Carlos looked at her, his eyes softening in that way they always did when he was around her. "I don’t know. But I’m not letting it go."

And he meant it. He loved her fiercely, with all the passion and loyalty he poured into everything else in his life. Carlos Sainz might be known as a skilled racer to the world, but to Y/N, he was her best friend, her biggest fan, and the man she wanted by her side for the long run.

"Te quiero," she whispered, nuzzling closer.

Carlos smiled, pulling her even tighter against him. "Te quiero más."

There was no place he'd rather be than right there with her, no race more important than the one they were running together—building a life full of love, trust, and the kind of partnership people only dreamed of.

time skip

Carlos sat on the edge of his hotel bed, his helmet lying discarded on the floor. It had been a long day of practice laps and debriefs, and all he wanted to do was check in on Y/N. She was promoting her latest film tonight—one of her biggest projects yet. He had seen her glowing face on the live stream just before he hopped in the car for his final practice session, and she had looked stunning.

But now, scrolling through his phone, Carlos’s jaw tightened. The comments on her latest red-carpet appearance had shifted from admiration to something darker. Rumors.

"Y/N and Liam are so close! They should totally date." "Did you see the way he looked at her? Definitely more than co-stars." "Where’s Carlos? Trouble in paradise?" "Carlos didn’t show up. Maybe she’s better off with someone who can make time for her." "Look at Liam and Y/N—perfect red-carpet couple."

Carlos’s stomach twisted as he read through the comments. His fingers hovered over his phone, scrolling past photo after photo of Y/N, dazzling in her gown, standing next to Liam, her handsome co-star. The two of them looked great together, but the press seemed to think too great.

He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face as he switched to Twitter. It wasn’t any better. In fact, it was worse.

#YNLiam trending. "It’s like they’re already a couple! Where’s Carlos???" "Y/N looks happier with Liam than she ever did with Carlos. Just saying." "Carlos who? Liam’s the real leading man."

Carlos’s eyes narrowed as he read the flood of tweets. He tried to remind himself that it was all just noise—fans making drama where there wasn’t any—but it hit him harder than he expected.

"Where’s Carlos?" He could almost hear them taunting. He hated that he hadn’t been able to be there. He should have been the one standing next to her, not Liam. But racing came first, and the schedules had clashed. That’s how it was in their relationship sometimes.

Still, seeing people speculate—no, assume—that he wasn’t there for her, that Liam was somehow taking his place, it made his blood boil.

The door to the room clicked open, and Carlos quickly turned off his phone as Lando Norris walked in, slinging his backpack on the chair.

"You alright, mate?" Lando asked, glancing at Carlos’s tense expression.

Carlos tried to shake it off, but his frustration bled into his voice. "Have you seen the posts? About Y/N and her co-star?"

Lando raised his eyebrows, pulling out his phone. "No, but… I’m guessing it’s not good?"

Carlos let out a bitter laugh. "Not at all. People think… They’re acting like she’s with him, like he’s taking my place just because I couldn’t be there."

Lando frowned as he started scrolling. "Ah, I see what you mean. Man, the internet is a crazy place. You know it’s all just nonsense, right?"

Carlos nodded but didn’t say anything. He knew Lando was right—fans made up stories all the time. But this felt different. Seeing Liam next to her, the way people talked about them like they were some perfect red-carpet couple, it gnawed at him.

"It’s not the first time, you know?" Carlos muttered. "They’ve been like this since filming started. Always hinting that there’s something more between them. But this… It’s everywhere now. And I’m stuck here, in a completely different country, doing laps while they’re making up stories about my girlfriend with someone else."

Lando leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Mate, it’s just rumors. She’s your girl. She wouldn’t give them a second thought."

"I know," Carlos said, though his voice lacked conviction. "But the fact that people even think it’s a possibility… I hate it. I hate that I’m not there to shut it down."

Lando nodded, understanding the frustration in his friend’s voice. "Look, Y/N is your girlfriend. She’s with you for a reason, and everyone else? They’re just looking for drama. You’ll see her soon, and it’ll blow over."

Carlos didn’t answer. He glanced at his phone again, his eyes narrowing at one particularly snide tweet: "Carlos better be careful, or Liam’s gonna steal his girl."

Shutting off his phone with a sigh, Carlos leaned back against the bed. "I just want this to stop, Lando. I don’t like people questioning what we have."

"You’re the only one questioning it," Lando pointed out. "Y/N isn’t."

Carlos stared up at the ceiling, knowing Lando was right but still feeling the weight of everything press down on him. The race, the distance, the rumors—it was a lot to handle.

He just hoped Y/N knew that, no matter what anyone else said, he wasn’t going anywhere.

time skip

Y/N had just wrapped up another full day of press junkets, her phone buzzing in her hand as she walked into their apartment, exhausted but eager to see Carlos. She immediately spotted him in the living room, scrolling through his phone, his jaw set tight.

"Hey," she greeted with a soft smile, kicking off her heels as she walked over to him. "Long day?"

Carlos barely glanced up, his eyes glued to the screen. "Yeah," he muttered, but something was clearly bothering him.

Y/N sat down beside him, tucking her legs under her as she gently placed a hand on his arm. "Carlos, what's wrong? You’ve been distant all day."

Carlos finally looked at her, his brow furrowed. He hesitated before handing her his phone. The screen was paused on a viral clip—Liam, her co-star, sitting in a live interview, grinning like he just revealed something monumental. The headline underneath it read: Liam Opens Up About His Massive Crush on Y/N.

Y/N's heart sank. "What is this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she clicked play.

On the screen, Liam laughed, clearly enjoying the attention. "Yeah, I’ve had a huge crush on her from the moment I met her. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s not only talented, but the most beautiful actress I’ve worked with."

The interviewer’s eyes widened in surprise, clearly eating it up. "Wow, so are we saying there was some real chemistry on set?"

Liam winked. "Let’s just say… it wasn’t all acting."

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock, her stomach flipping as she watched. What the hell was he thinking? This was inappropriate—totally unprofessional. She couldn’t believe he’d said that, let alone in a live interview.

Carlos’s voice cut through the silence. "He thinks it’s funny," he said, his tone edged with frustration. "He thinks he can just say that, and people will laugh it off, like it’s a joke."

Y/N immediately placed the phone down, turning to him. "Carlos, I had no idea he was going to say that. I swear, I’m as shocked as you are."

Carlos ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. "This is exactly what I was worried about, Y/N. People already think there’s something going on, and now he’s feeding into it. That crush comment? It’s not a harmless joke—it’s fueling the rumors."

Y/N could see how upset he was, and it broke her heart. She grabbed his hand, pulling him closer. "Carlos, I’ve told you before—there is nothing going on between me and Liam. I don’t know why he said that, and I don’t find it funny. At all. It’s inappropriate, and I’m going to have a word with him about it."

Carlos shook his head, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "It’s not just about what he said, Y/N. It’s about the fact that he’s doing this publicly. He knows we’re together. He knows how this looks, especially after everything the press has been saying."

Y/N sighed, knowing he was right. Liam had crossed a line. "I’m going to fix this," she said softly. "You know how much I love you. None of this means anything to me. Liam is my co-star, nothing more, and I’ll make that clear to him."

Carlos glanced over at her, his eyes dark with frustration. "I don’t doubt that, but the world doesn’t know that, Y/N. And I don’t like how comfortable he feels saying those things. It’s disrespectful—not just to me, but to you."

Y/N nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "You’re right. It’s not okay, and I’ll handle it. But please, don’t let this come between us. We’re stronger than some stupid comments Liam made on TV."

Carlos exhaled sharply, his eyes softening as he reached for her hand. "It’s not about us, cariño. I trust you, I really do. But this… it’s just hard to ignore when everyone else is making it into a bigger deal."

Y/N moved closer, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. "I hate that you’re feeling like this," she whispered. "But you’re the only one I want, Carlos. Always."

He leaned into her, his arms wrapping around her waist. "I know," he murmured into her hair. "I just don’t like seeing people act like we’re not solid."

Y/N pulled back slightly, cupping his face in her hands. "We are solid. Don’t let some stupid interview change that." She leaned in, pressing her lips softly against his, and for a moment, Carlos melted into the kiss, all the tension draining from his body.

But as they pulled apart, Y/N’s eyes hardened with determination. "I’m going to fix this, Carlos. I’ll talk to Liam, and I’ll make it very clear that this kind of behavior isn’t okay. No more rumors, no more inappropriate comments. Just us, like it’s always been."

Carlos sighed, his forehead resting against hers. "Thank you," he whispered. "I just need this to stop."

"It will," Y/N promised. "I’m on your side, always."

time skip and location change to - venice film festival

The Venice Film Festival buzzed with excitement, the flashing cameras and a sea of glamorous stars lining the red carpet. Y/N walked confidently alongside Carlos, who, for once, was right by her side at a major event. Fans had been waiting for their appearance together, and the internet was already on fire with the pictures flooding in.

But what really had people talking was the little love bite just peeking out from the collar of Y/N’s elegant gown. It wasn’t obvious, but anyone paying close attention—and the fans always did—could see the faint mark on her neck, and they definitely noticed Carlos’s proud, smug smile every time the cameras clicked.

As they made their way down the red carpet, hand-in-hand, the fans went wild, chanting their names, and Twitter exploded with hashtags like #CarlosandYNGoals and #CoupleOfTheYear. Carlos had kept her close all night, making it clear to everyone, especially to those starting rumors, that Y/N was his, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

"Smile, cariño," Carlos whispered into her ear as they posed for yet another set of photos. "The whole world’s watching."

Y/N grinned, turning her head slightly, showing off the faint love bite more boldly than before. "I think they already got the message," she whispered back, giggling at the cheekiness of it all.

Carlos chuckled, his hand gently squeezing her waist. "Let’s make sure they don’t forget."

But amidst the excitement, Y/N had another matter to attend to. As they reached the entrance of the festival, she spotted Liam with the rest of the cast, standing just inside the grand hall. Her expression hardened slightly, and she felt Carlos tense beside her when he saw him too.

"I’ll handle it," she murmured, giving Carlos a reassuring glance before slipping away from his side. He nodded, though his eyes stayed locked on Liam, clearly displeased.

Y/N approached Liam with calm determination. He turned to her, smiling, clearly unaware of the storm he had created. "Y/N! You look amazing tonight."

"Thanks, Liam," she replied, her voice cool. "We need to talk."

Liam blinked, surprised by her tone. "About what?"

"About the interview," Y/N said, crossing her arms. "The one where you said you had a crush on me and implied that we had ‘chemistry’ off-screen."

Liam shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, that… I didn’t think it was a big deal. It was just a joke, Y/N. You know how the press is—they eat that stuff up."

"It wasn’t a joke to me," Y/N said firmly. "Or to Carlos. Do you have any idea what kind of rumors you started? People think there’s something going on between us. You made it worse."

Liam frowned, clearly taken aback. "I didn’t mean to—"

"But you did," Y/N cut him off. "And it’s disrespectful, not just to me, but to my relationship. Carlos is my boyfriend, and what you said crossed a line. We’re here to promote a film, not feed gossip. I need you to stop."

Liam’s face flushed, and he looked away, clearly uncomfortable now. "I… I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t realize it would blow up like this."

"Well, it did," Y/N said, her tone softening slightly. "I need you to be professional from here on out, Liam. No more comments like that, okay?"

Liam nodded, looking genuinely apologetic now. "Okay. I get it. I’m really sorry, Y/N."

"Good," Y/N said, glancing back at Carlos, who was watching them like a hawk from across the room. "Because you’re about to get another conversation, and it won’t be as nice as mine."

Liam followed her gaze, his eyes widening when he saw Carlos approaching. "Oh, crap."

Carlos strode over, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by something much more intense. Y/N could feel the tension radiating off him as he approached. She gave him a small nod, signaling that she had said her piece, but Carlos clearly had something to add.

"Carlos, man," Liam started, already sounding nervous. "I—"

Carlos didn’t let him finish. "You thought that was funny? Saying you had a crush on my girlfriend on live TV?" His voice was low, controlled, but there was an edge to it that made Liam visibly shrink back.

"It wasn’t like that, I swear," Liam stammered, trying to backpedal. "It was just—"

"Just what?" Carlos took a step closer, towering over him now. "Just you feeding into rumors? Just you making her uncomfortable? You know we’re together, and you still did it. Not cool, man."

Y/N could see Liam growing more and more flustered under Carlos’s icy stare. "I already apologized to Y/N, Carlos," Liam said, his voice shaky. "I didn’t mean to disrespect you, honestly."

Carlos’s eyes narrowed. "You didn’t mean to? You should’ve thought about that before running your mouth. Don’t let it happen again. If you care about your career, keep things professional. I don’t want to hear anything like that from you ever again."

Liam nodded furiously, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. "It won’t happen again, I promise."

Carlos gave him one last hard look before stepping back, his hand automatically reaching for Y/N’s again. "Good. See that it doesn’t."

As they walked away, Y/N squeezed his hand, a small smile playing on her lips. "You didn’t have to go that hard on him, you know."

Carlos smirked, his fingers brushing against the love bite on her neck as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I’m just making sure everyone knows you’re mine."

Y/N laughed, feeling the tension melt away now that it was all out in the open. "I think they got the message loud and clear, Sainz."

As they entered the grand hall, the cameras continued to flash, capturing their every move. Fans were already going wild on social media, uploading the pictures of them together, Carlos looking impossibly proud, Y/N smiling with that cheeky love bite on full display.

Twitter exploded with admiration:

“Carlos accompanying Y/N to the festival?? Power couple!” “Did you see the love bite?? Carlos is marking his territory 😂” “I need someone to look at me the way Carlos looks at Y/N. 🥺” “Carlos putting that co-star in his place? YES, KING.”

As they took their seats, Carlos leaned closer to her, his hand resting on her knee beneath the table. "I told you we’d shut this down, didn’t I?"

Y/N smiled, resting her head against his shoulder. "You did. And you were right. No more rumors. Just us."

Carlos pressed a kiss to her temple, his voice low and content. "Just us."

321 notes · View notes

its-avalon-08 · 1 month ago

Note

Can you write one with Jenson Button based on Cardigan — Taylor Swift, but with a happy ending???

im like a year late to this one im so so so sorry it got lost in between requests, but enjoy!

cardigan (jb22)

✦ pairing - jenson button x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, absent jenson, tears, fluff

The music was loud, the bass thrumming through the floor of the crowded club, the kind of place where everyone seemed to forget the rest of the world existed outside those four walls. It was 2009, and Jenson had just been crowned Formula 1 World Champion. The energy was electric, the champagne endless, and the night seemed like it would never end.

Y/N was laughing, her head thrown back in that carefree way that made her glow under the dim club lights. She had a glass of something fizzy in her hand, but she wasn’t even drinking it anymore—too caught up in the euphoria of the moment, the freedom that came with feeling invincible. And next to her, Jenson was grinning like the world was his. Tonight, it was.

Dancin' in your Levis

"Jenson! I can’t believe it!" she shouted over the music, swaying as the beat pulsed around them. “You’re a champion!”

Jenson leaned down, catching her words between the thudding beats of the music. “It still doesn’t feel real!” he laughed, pulling her closer to hear him better. He was sweating, a mixture of the dancing, the heat of the room, and the alcohol they’d both been consuming in abundance. His arm draped loosely around her shoulders, like it had always been meant to be there.

Drunk under a streetlight, I knew you

They’d been inseparable the whole night. Well, truthfully, they'd been inseparable for months now—best friends who everyone suspected had something more, even if they hadn’t admitted it to themselves yet. But tonight, with the glow of Jenson’s victory surrounding them, something felt different. The line between friendship and something else was blurring faster than either of them could keep track.

The DJ switched to another song, something with a slower, sexier rhythm, and without thinking, Jenson tugged her onto the dance floor. Y/N followed, laughing, stumbling slightly as her heels betrayed her. His hand found hers, steadying her as they spun in the kaleidoscope of lights.

Hand under my sweatshirt

“You’re terrible at this!” she teased, half-dancing, half-stumbling into him.

“Am not! I’ve got moves you’ve never even seen!” Jenson replied, grinning down at her as he tried and failed to execute a half-decent spin.

Y/N couldn’t stop laughing, their steps completely out of sync with the rhythm. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing mattered in that moment but the way he was looking at her, the wild glint in his eyes, the freedom of it all.

Suddenly, they stopped, chest to chest, her hands resting against his shoulders, his on her waist. The air between them shifted, the world outside fading away as they stood there, swaying slightly to the beat.

“I’m so proud of you, Jense,” she said softly, her voice almost lost in the noise of the club. There was a warmth in her gaze, something more than just friendship, something she had been holding back for too long.

Jenson’s eyes softened, and his usual playful smirk faded into something more sincere, more vulnerable. “I couldn’t have done it without you, you know,” he murmured. His words hung in the air, heavier than either of them expected.

Baby, kiss it better

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. She felt the familiar buzz of alcohol, but there was something else too—a sense of inevitability, like they had been building to this moment for months. Her fingers tightened slightly on his shoulders, grounding herself as she searched his eyes for something, anything to tell her what he was thinking.

“Jenson,” she started, her voice trembling slightly, but the words caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the overwhelming emotions swirling inside her, but she felt brave, braver than she had ever been before. “I think—no, I know—I’m falling in love with you.”

The words tumbled out before she could stop them, hanging between them like a secret finally set free. For a split second, the world seemed to stop. Her pulse raced in her ears, her heart hammering as she waited for his response. She felt exposed, raw, but she couldn’t take it back now.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Jenson’s eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face before a slow, disbelieving grin spread across his lips. He didn’t say anything right away, just stared at her like he was trying to make sense of what she had just confessed. Then, almost as if something inside him snapped, he pulled her closer, his forehead resting against hers.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” he whispered, his breath warm against her lips.

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart still racing, barely able to process his words. “Wait, really?”

“Really,” he laughed softly, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it. “I’ve been falling for you since… God, since forever. But I didn’t want to mess this up. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart swelling at his words. All the uncertainty, all the nights spent wondering if she was the only one feeling this way, suddenly vanished. She laughed, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her as she pressed her forehead harder against his. “We’ve been so stupid,” she muttered, half-laughing, half-sighing.

Under someone's bed

“Yeah, we have,” he agreed, chuckling as he tilted his head just slightly, his lips brushing hers. “But at least we figured it out.”

Their kiss was soft, tentative at first, like they were both still trying to believe this was real. But then Jenson’s hand cupped the back of her neck, pulling her closer, and the kiss deepened. It was full of everything they had been holding back for so long—months of stolen glances, late-night conversations, and moments where the air between them had crackled with unspoken feelings.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, Y/N couldn’t stop smiling. Neither could Jenson.

“Guess you’re stuck with me now,” she teased, her arms wrapping around his neck.

“Good,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

And with that, they melted back into the rhythm of the music, lost in their own little world, dancing like they were the only two people in the room. The weight of their confessions, of their love, didn’t feel heavy anymore. Instead, it felt light—like a secret finally uncovered, like something beautiful that had been waiting for them all along.

And as they danced, hands intertwined and hearts full, they knew that whatever the future held, they’d face it together.

You put me on and said I was your favorite

It had been a few years since that night in London, where Jenson and Y/N confessed under the haze of alcohol and the glow of his championship. Since then, their lives had been a blur of airports, races, and fleeting moments together. They had shared highs and lows, laughter and love, but somewhere along the way, something had shifted.

The distance had crept in slowly—so subtly that neither of them noticed at first. It was in the small things, like the way Jenson’s once playful banter had become shorter, more distracted. Or the way Y/N stopped asking when he’d be home from a race weekend, knowing he probably didn’t have the answer anyway. The cracks in their relationship were growing, but they hadn’t said a word about it. Not yet.

To kiss in cars and downtown bars

Tonight, the apartment was quiet, too quiet. Jenson was slouched on the couch, scrolling through his phone with one hand and mindlessly rubbing his temples with the other. The TV was on, muted, the soft glow casting shadows across the room.

Y/N was in the kitchen, pretending to be busy washing the dishes, though her mind was elsewhere. She glanced over her shoulder at him, the same heaviness settling in her chest that had been there for months. They hadn’t really talked in so long. The kind of deep, raw conversations they used to have, the ones that made her feel like they could conquer anything together—that was all a distant memory now.

She dried her hands and walked into the living room, stopping by the doorway as if she didn’t know how to approach him. “Long day?” she asked, her voice too light, too careful.

Jenson didn’t look up from his phone. “Yeah, testing was brutal. The car’s all over the place.”

Was all we needed

Y/N nodded, though he wasn’t really looking for a response. This was how it had been for months—small talk, surface-level exchanges that didn’t scratch the surface of what was really happening between them. She sighed and sat down on the edge of the couch, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater.

“You want to talk about it?” she offered, though she wasn’t sure if she was asking about the car or their relationship.

Jenson finally looked up, blinking as if he’d only just realized she was there. He shrugged, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. “What’s there to talk about? It’s just work.”

But Y/N heard the exhaustion in his voice, the frustration that went deeper than just the car. She knew him better than anyone, and yet lately, it felt like she didn’t know him at all.

“You’ve been so… distant,” she said quietly, the words slipping out before she could stop them. She hadn’t meant to say it like that, not yet, but the silence between them had been suffocating her.

Jenson ran a hand through his hair, his expression tightening. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, Y/N. You know that.”

You drew stars around my scars

“I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But so do I. And it feels like we’re not… I don’t know, like we’re not even in the same world anymore.”

He looked at her then, really looked at her, and for a moment, something flickered in his eyes. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a tired resignation. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Y/N’s heart clenched. She hated how this conversation felt inevitable, how it had been brewing beneath the surface for so long. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted him to say, just something, anything to let her know that he still cared, that he still wanted to fight for them.

“I don’t either,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I just… I miss us. I miss you.”

Jenson leaned back, rubbing his face with both hands. “I’m here, Y/N. What do you want from me? I’m doing everything I can. I’m giving everything I have to this career, to keep us afloat, to make it all work.”

“That’s the problem!” she blurted out, her emotions boiling over. “You’re giving everything to your career, and there’s nothing left for us! I’m not asking you to stop racing, Jense. I’ve never asked you to do that. But I don’t want to be a passenger in your life. I need you to show up for me too.”

The words hung heavy between them, and Jenson stared at her, his eyes clouded with confusion and frustration. He stood up, pacing the small space in front of the couch, his hand gripping the back of his neck like he was trying to hold himself together.

“I don’t know how to be everything for you right now,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m barely holding it together myself. You don’t think I miss us too? I don’t even recognize myself these days, let alone us.”

But now I'm bleedin'

Y/N felt the sting of his words, but more than that, she felt the weight of her own fears crashing down on her. They had always been so in sync, so connected, but now it felt like they were speaking two different languages. Every word they exchanged seemed to push them further apart.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, her throat tight. “But I feel like I already am.”

Jenson stopped pacing, his back to her, his shoulders tense. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, the silence growing heavier by the second. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, barely audible over the hum of the muted TV.

“I can't anymore.”

The words shattered something inside her, something fragile that had been holding her together through all the distance, all the silence. She felt the tears burning in her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to break in front of him.

'Cause I knew you, Steppin' on the last train

Jenson turned around slowly, his expression pained, as if he regretted what he had just said but couldn’t take it back. He walked towards her, standing just a few feet away, close enough that she could feel the familiar warmth of him, but distant enough that he might as well have been a thousand miles away.

“I don’t want that,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of confusion. “I don’t want us to fall apart. But I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know where we went wrong.”

Y/N looked up at him, her vision blurred by the tears she had been holding back for too long. She wanted to reach out, to pull him close and tell him that they could figure it out, that they could still find their way back to each other. But something stopped her. Maybe it was the exhaustion in his eyes, or the emptiness in his words, or the fact that she wasn’t sure if he believed it anymore.

Marked me like a bloodstain, I knew you

In her mind, all the memories of them played like a broken record—those wild, carefree nights when everything felt possible, the laughter, the love. And now, here they were, standing on the edge of something she didn’t want to acknowledge. She hated that they had come to this, that the people they once were seemed like strangers now.

Inside her head, all she could think was, How did we get here? How did we go from dancing under the stars, full of hope and dreams, to barely speaking, barely existing together? It felt like the love she still carried for him was suffocating her, crushing her under the weight of what they had lost.

Tried to change the ending

Jenson’s voice echoed in his own head, just as broken. How do I fix this? He didn’t want to lose her, didn’t want to admit that they were slipping away from each other, but every time he tried to hold on, it felt like he was grasping at sand, watching it slip through his fingers.

They stood there in silence, so close but so far, two people caught in a whirlwind of emotions they didn’t know how to untangle. Both of them afraid to speak, afraid to break the fragile connection that was barely holding them together.

And in the quiet, all that was left was the ache of what they used to be, and the terrible, heart-wrenching uncertainty of what they had become.

Peter losing Wendy, I knew you

Title: "Broken Pieces"

It was past midnight, and the world outside was quiet, but the silence inside Y/N felt deafening. She stood on the terrace, the cool breeze ruffling her hair, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if it would somehow hold her together. The weight of everything that had gone wrong with Jenson had finally become too much. She wasn’t angry, not anymore. She was just broken.

The tears had come without warning—soft, silent sobs that wracked her body, escaping before she could stop them. She had tried so hard to stay strong, to keep it all in, but the cracks in her heart had deepened, and now she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Her vision blurred, the city lights below melting into hazy streaks, just like her memories of the life she and Jenson once had.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steady her breathing, but the sobs kept coming, quieter than a whisper, yet so loud in the emptiness of the night.

Behind her, she heard the soft creak of the terrace door, but she didn’t turn around. She couldn’t.

“Y/N…”

Jenson’s voice was hoarse, barely audible over the sound of her crying, but it was enough to make her heart clench. She heard his footsteps, slow and hesitant, as he approached her. She didn’t know how long he had been standing there, watching her break down, but when he reached her, he stopped just a few feet away.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and neither did she. The weight of everything unsaid hung in the air between them, heavy and unbearable. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him move closer, his expression filled with a kind of desperate sorrow she hadn’t seen in him before.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to stop the tears, but it was no use. She turned slightly, her tear-filled eyes meeting his, and what she saw there undid her completely. His own eyes were glassy, filled with tears he had been trying to hold back. His face was etched with regret, his strong composure crumbling in front of her.

“I didn’t… I didn’t know how to fix this,” Jenson said, his voice breaking. “I thought if I just kept going, kept pushing through, maybe things would get better. But I was wrong. I’ve been wrong this whole time.”

She tried to speak, but her voice failed her, a soft sob escaping instead. She turned away, wiping her face with the back of her hand, but Jenson stepped forward, gently wrapping his arms around her from behind. His grip was tight, desperate, like he was afraid she would slip away if he let go.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his lips close to her ear. “God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ve been such an idiot. I thought I was doing everything right, but I’ve been so caught up in my own world, in racing, that I lost you.”

She leaned into his embrace, her body shaking with sobs, and Jenson held her tighter, his face buried in her shoulder. His own tears began to fall, silent but heavy, as he realized just how much he had hurt her, how much he had lost sight of what truly mattered.

“I didn’t mean to push you away,” he choked out, his voice filled with pain. “I swear I didn’t. I love you, Y/N. I love you more than anything. And I hate that I made you feel like I didn’t.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she turned in his arms, facing him now, her hands trembling as they came to rest on his chest. “Then why… why didn’t you say anything?” she whispered, her voice barely audible between her sobs. “We’ve been falling apart, and I didn’t know how to reach you.”

Jenson’s eyes were red, tears streaming down his face as he cupped her cheeks, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears. “Because I was scared,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I was scared that if I admitted how bad things had gotten, it would mean we were broken. And I didn’t want to lose you. I thought if I just kept going, if I pretended everything was fine, we’d get through it.”

“But we didn’t,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. “We didn’t get through it, Jense. We’ve been drifting further and further apart.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking again. “I know, and it’s all my fault. I should’ve fought harder for us. I should’ve talked to you, instead of shutting you out. But I’ve been so wrapped up in my own head, in my own struggles, that I didn’t see how much you were hurting.”

Y/N’s tears fell harder now, the pain of all the months they had spent in silence, of all the nights she had cried herself to sleep, crashing over her like a wave. “I needed you,” she whispered. “I needed you, and you weren’t there.”

Jenson’s heart shattered at her words. He pulled her closer, his forehead resting against hers as his own tears mixed with hers. “I’m here now,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. “I’m here, Y/N. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t before, but I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

Y/N closed her eyes, her body trembling in his arms. She wanted to believe him, wanted to hold onto the hope that they could fix this, but the wounds were deep, and the pain still raw. “I don’t know if we can go back to the way we were,” she whispered, her voice fragile.

Jenson shook his head, his tears falling onto her cheeks. “I don’t want to go back. I want to move forward, with you. I want to fix this, Y/N. I don’t care how long it takes, or how hard it is. I’ll fight for you. For us.”

His words were filled with a desperate sincerity, and Y/N could feel his heart pounding against her palms, could hear the raw emotion in his voice. He was breaking, just like she was, and in that moment, all she could do was hold onto him, because despite everything, despite all the hurt and all the distance, she still loved him.

She always had.

Jenson leaned in, pressing his lips to her forehead, lingering there as if he could somehow kiss away all the pain, all the sadness that had built between them. His voice was barely above a whisper, broken and filled with remorse. “Please don’t give up on me. Please don’t give up on us.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart aching as his words sank in. She was exhausted, her soul worn thin from all the heartache, but standing there in his arms, feeling the tremble of his body as he cried, she knew that he meant every word. And despite the cracks in their relationship, despite everything that had gone wrong, she wasn’t ready to walk away either.

“I won’t,” she whispered through her tears, her voice shaking. “I won’t give up on you.”

Jenson let out a broken sob, pulling her even closer, his face buried in her neck. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice raw. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her tears falling freely now as she clung to him, her heart aching with both the pain of what they had been through and the faint, fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

#jenson button #jenson button x y/n #jenson button x you #jenson button x reader #jb22 #jb22 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #y/n

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its-avalon-08 · 1 month ago

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what about franco x reader: reader wants to breakup with him cause she thinks their relationship might not survive his f1 career and she gets insecure about all the girls he’s going to meet and stuff but he reassures her he actually needs her by his side? 🙏

why me? (fc43)

✦ pairing - franco colapinto x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, break up, insecurity, fluff

Y/N's heart pounded as she stared at the news notification on her phone. Franco had finally done it—he had secured a seat with Williams in Formula 1. The moment she should’ve been ecstatic for him, proud of all his hard work and determination, instead left her feeling hollow. It wasn’t that she wasn’t proud of him; she was, more than words could express. But the overwhelming wave of uncertainty crushed her, drowning out the joy she wanted to feel.

This is it. This is the beginning of the end.

She could already see the cracks forming, fractures in their relationship that hadn’t even happened yet. Franco, with his charm and talent, was bound to be surrounded by so many new people—drivers, celebrities, and worst of all, beautiful women who’d be drawn to him like moths to a flame. He would be traveling constantly, pulled in a thousand directions by his career. Where did that leave her?

It’s better to end things now, she reasoned with herself, as painful as the thought was. She didn’t want to be the clingy girlfriend sitting on the sidelines, wondering if he’d forget about her. What if she wasn’t enough for him anymore? What if, in the chaos of fame, he realized he wanted more than what they had?

Tears burned her eyes as she stared blankly at the screen. I can’t do this. I have to let him go before he lets me go.

time skip

Y/N felt a strange mix of pride and unease as she walked into the paddock with Franco. The energy here was electric, buzzing with excitement and anticipation. Franco, in his Williams gear, looked like he belonged—every inch the rising F1 star. But that only heightened her anxiety.

As soon as they stepped further in, a small crowd began to gather around them, particularly around Franco. Models, influencers, and PR representatives, all with perfectly polished smiles, swarmed him, vying for his attention. Their bright laughter and easy charm grated on Y/N’s nerves, even though she tried her best not to show it. This was part of his life now, and she had to accept it.

But do I really?

One of the models leaned in a little too close, her hand brushing Franco’s arm as she laughed at something he said. Franco, ever polite, smiled and responded, clearly uncomfortable but not wanting to be rude. Y/N stood off to the side, suddenly feeling like an outsider in his world. The women around him were stunning—tall, glamorous, and effortlessly confident. How could she compete with that?

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she absentmindedly unlocked it, scrolling through Instagram as a distraction. Her heart sank when she stumbled upon the latest post of Franco—one from his PR team, showing him posing by his car, looking effortlessly cool in his racing gear.

The comments were flooded with compliments.

“OMG, Franco is so hot. 😍” “Imagine being his girlfriend… I would die for that smile!” “Ugh, how is he single? I need him in my life.” “He could have any girl he wants tbh.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted, her fingers tightening around her phone as she scrolled through more of the comments. Each one felt like a knife digging deeper into her insecurities. These girls didn’t even know him, but they spoke as if he was already theirs.

She glanced up, catching Franco laughing politely at something one of the models said. The sight stung. He was just being his usual kind, respectful self, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch. Her mind raced with doubts. Would it always be like this? Her, standing on the sidelines, while he was surrounded by people who seemed to fit into his new world far better than she ever could?

Maybe this is how it starts, she thought, her throat tightening. Maybe one day he’ll realize he deserves someone like them—someone more glamorous, more confident, more… everything.

The thought hit her like a tidal wave. She could barely breathe as her fingers hovered over her phone screen. Should she say something? Should she pull him aside and tell him what was going through her mind? But then, would he even understand? Or would he just brush off her feelings as irrational?

She took a step back, trying to create space between herself and the scene unfolding in front of her. Her phone buzzed again, and she instinctively checked it, only to see more comments flooding in under Franco’s post.

“I can’t believe he’s still single… lucky girls at the paddock.” “Franco, when are you going to date someone? 😏”

Her heart dropped. I’m right here, but no one even knows that I exist. Y/N closed the app, shoving her phone into her pocket as she tried to fight off the suffocating wave of insecurity building inside her.

Franco finally broke free from the crowd, excusing himself from the models with a gracious smile before turning back to Y/N. He frowned when he noticed her distant expression, walking over and taking her hand. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

She forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "Yeah, I’m fine."

Franco didn’t seem convinced, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. "You sure? You’ve been quiet all morning."

Y/N glanced around at the women still lingering nearby, their gazes lingering on Franco even as he stood by her side. The weight of everything—the comments, the models, the reality of his new life—crushed her. I can’t do this.

"Yeah," she said, pulling her hand from his grasp. "I just need a moment alone." Before Franco could protest, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, confused, as her heart raced with the decision she had already made.

She couldn’t let this continue. She couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

Y/N had barely spoken since Franco got back from his meetings with Williams. He immediately sensed something was wrong, her usually bright demeanor muted, her smiles forced.

"Y/N, what’s going on? You’ve been distant all day," Franco asked, concern etched in his face as he sat down beside her. His hand reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

She pulled away slightly, feeling the weight of her decision crashing over her again. "Franco, I… I’ve been thinking. About us."

His brow furrowed, the confusion clear in his eyes. "What do you mean? What’s there to think about? Everything’s fine, isn’t it?"

Everything’s not fine.

She drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. "You’re going to be a Formula 1 driver, Franco. This is huge—bigger than anything. Your life is going to change completely, and I don’t… I don’t think our relationship is going to survive that."

He blinked, stunned. "What? Why would you even say that? Y/N, we’ve been through so much together, why would you think this would break us?"

"Because you’re going to be away all the time," she burst out, her voice trembling. "You’re going to meet all these new people, and—Franco, you’re going to be surrounded by girls who are way more interesting, more beautiful, more… everything than me. And I can’t compete with that. I’m scared that you’ll realize you don’t need me anymore."

He looked at her like she had just said the most absurd thing in the world. "Y/N, stop. You really think I care about any of that? About some random people I’m going to meet? That’s not what matters to me."

"You say that now," she muttered, crossing her arms as if to shield herself from the pain of her own words. "But what if it changes? You’ll be busy all the time, caught up in your career, and I’ll just be… here. Waiting."

Franco’s jaw clenched as he grabbed her hand, his eyes intense and unwavering. "I need you by my side, Y/N. Not some random person. You." He brought her hand to his chest, his heartbeat strong beneath her palm. "You’ve been with me through everything—the hard times, the wins, the losses. Do you really think I could go through this without you?"

She bit her lip, tears threatening to spill. "But what if—"

"No." Franco’s voice was firm, cutting off her doubts before they could take hold. "No more ‘what ifs.’ I love you, Y/N. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t care about the attention, the fans, or any of that. It’s you who grounds me. You’re what keeps me going, even when things get hard. I need you to believe that."

Y/N’s heart twisted, torn between the fear that had been eating away at her and the raw sincerity in his words. "But what if I hold you back? What if you need to focus on your career?"

"Then we figure it out together," he said softly, his hand cupping her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. Not because of fear, not because of this career. I want you with me, every step of the way. You’re the only person who knows the real me. And I need that more than ever now."

Her resolve crumbled as she looked into his eyes, the weight of her fears slowly lifting. "I’m just scared, Franco," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I’m scared of losing you."

"You won’t," he promised, pulling her into his arms. "You’re not going to lose me. I need you with me, Y/N. We’re in this together. Always."

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #logan sargeant #williams #franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto x yn #williams f1 #williams racing #williams formula 1

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its-avalon-08 · 1 month ago

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Fernando Alonso with wife reader. With the world shutting down because of the COVID-19, Nando is restless. He's not used to calming down and not doing F1. So, she thinks of something for him and their children together, seeing it's a great time to do it. You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :)))

fort nights and family lights (fa14)

✦ pairing - fernando alonso x female!reader

✦ genre - cute, fluff

The world had come to a standstill. COVID-19 had shut down everything. No Formula 1 races, no events, just… silence. Fernando Alonso paced around the living room, his hands running through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t used to this—being still, without a challenge in sight. His restless energy filled the air as he glanced outside, staring at the empty streets. The roar of the engines had been replaced by an unsettling quiet.

Y/N watched him from the doorway, leaning against the frame. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the frustration building with each passing day.

“You okay, Nando?” she asked softly.

He turned to face her, exhaling deeply. “No, I’m not. I don’t know what to do, Y/N. I feel like I’m going crazy here.” He gestured around the house, his frustration bubbling over. “I need to be out there. I need to drive.”

Y/N smiled gently, walking over to him and placing a hand on his arm. “I know, cariño. But the world’s at a pause right now. We all are. Even you.”

He shook his head, letting out a low, bitter chuckle. “But this isn’t me. Sitting still… I don’t know how to do that.”

Y/N reached up and cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing over his skin. “You’ve been running your entire life. Maybe this is a good thing. You know, a chance to slow down… to spend time with us.”

Fernando’s eyes softened as he looked at her, but there was still that glint of restlessness in his gaze. “I know, and I love being here with you and the kids, but I’m not used to this pace. It feels like I’m… wasting time.”

Y/N thought for a moment, her mind turning over an idea she’d had earlier in the week. She knew Fernando needed an outlet, something that would make him feel like himself again, even just a little. She smiled, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “I think I have an idea.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s that?”

“Well, the kids have been asking about you racing and your career, right? They love hearing your stories about the track. What if… we built a little racetrack? Just for fun, in the backyard. We could use whatever we have—chalk, cones, whatever. You could teach them a bit of what you do. And… maybe it’ll help you feel a little more like yourself.”

Fernando blinked, his frustration momentarily forgotten as he considered her idea. “A racetrack? Here?”

“Why not?” Y/N grinned. “It’ll be something for all of us to do together. You get to teach them about the sport you love, and we can all burn off some of that restless energy.”

He laughed softly, his mood lifting. “I think you might be onto something, mi amor.”

A few hours later, the backyard was transformed. Y/N and the kids had drawn out a makeshift racetrack with chalk, setting up cones they found in the garage. Fernando was in his element, guiding the kids, teaching them the basics of racing lines and braking points, all while running around with them, pretending to race on foot.

Their daughter giggled as she pretended to overtake Fernando, her little feet moving as fast as they could. “I’m faster than you, Papa!”

“Oh, we’ll see about that!” Fernando laughed, playfully chasing after her, his frustration from earlier melting away with every smile.

Y/N stood back, watching them with a warm smile on her face. This was what she had hoped for—a moment of joy, of togetherness amidst the uncertainty of the world outside.

Later, after the kids had tired themselves out and retreated inside, Fernando walked over to Y/N, pulling her into his arms.

“You know,” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers, “I think I needed this more than I realized. It’s not the track, it’s not F1, but… it’s something even better.”

She smiled up at him. “What’s that?”

He kissed her softly, his voice low and full of affection. “Time with you and the kids. I’ve spent so much of my life chasing speed, but this… this feels right.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “It’s okay to slow down sometimes, Nando. The world will start again, and you’ll be back on the track before you know it. But right now, we’ve got each other. And that’s all that matters.”

He held her tightly, the weight of the world falling away in her embrace. “You always know how to calm me down, don’t you?”

She laughed softly. “I’ve had years of practice. And you’re not so bad at slowing down when you want to.”

Fernando chuckled, pulling her closer. “I love you, Y/N. I’m lucky to have you.”

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “We’re lucky to have each other.”

a day later

Y/N stood in the kitchen, apron tied around her waist as she pulled out ingredients from the fridge. “Alright, today we’re all going to cook together. We’ll make pizza—everyone’s favorite.”

Fernando leaned against the counter, raising an eyebrow. “Do you trust me in the kitchen, mi amor?”

Y/N smirked, handing him a chef’s hat. “You handle cars going over 200 mph, but you’re scared of a little dough?”

“I’m more worried about you trusting the kids with the toppings,” he teased, looking at their son and daughter who were already playing with the flour on the table.

The kids were excited, bouncing on their feet. “Papa, we’re making the pizza!”

“Yes, yes,” Fernando said, scooping up their son and plopping him onto the counter beside him. “But no stealing all the cheese before we start, okay?”

Y/N chuckled, rolling out the dough as she supervised. “Everyone gets a part to do. Fernando, you do the sauce. I’ll help with the rolling, and kids, you can handle the toppings.”

They all got to work, but it was predictably chaotic. Fernando was overly meticulous with the sauce, spreading it evenly like he was preparing for a race strategy. “It’s about precision, Y/N. A pizza with too much sauce is like a car with too much downforce.”

Y/N laughed, throwing a pinch of flour at him. “It’s not that serious, Nando!”

Meanwhile, the kids were making a mess. Their son had poured an entire bag of cheese onto one corner of the pizza, while their daughter decided that mushrooms didn’t belong on the pizza—they belonged on her brother’s head.

“Hey!” their son protested, shaking off the mushrooms.

Y/N shook her head in mock exasperation, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “This is turning into a disaster.”

Fernando, trying not to laugh too hard, placed his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “Well, it might not be a masterpiece, but it’ll be our disaster.”

When they finally pulled the pizza out of the oven, it looked more like a patchwork quilt of toppings, but they all sat down together at the table, laughing at their creation.

Y/N took a bite and sighed. “You know what? It’s actually not that bad.”

Fernando smirked, wiping some sauce off their daughter’s cheek. “We make a pretty good team—on the track and off.”

Later that evening, the kids had another wild idea—camping. But since the lockdown made outdoor adventures impossible, Y/N suggested they build a fort in the living room.

“Alright, let’s gather all the blankets and pillows we can find,” Y/N announced, already pulling down some cushions from the couch.

Fernando joined in, smiling at the absurdity of it all. “You sure we can fit all of us under here?”

“Trust me,” Y/N grinned, setting up the first blanket like a makeshift roof. “It’ll be cozy.”

The kids ran around excitedly, collecting blankets and throwing them into a pile. Soon enough, they had a massive fort covering half the living room, with pillows as walls and fairy lights strung up to add a magical glow.

Once inside, Y/N, Fernando, and the kids settled in with a small lantern and snacks they had brought along. Their son snuggled into Fernando’s lap while their daughter curled up next to Y/N.

“This is amazing,” their daughter whispered, eyes wide as she looked around the dimly lit fort.

“It’s like we’re in the wilderness,” Y/N added, playfully nudging Fernando. “Surviving with nothing but each other and some chips.”

Fernando chuckled, resting his head against Y/N’s. “It’s good practice for the next time we go real camping. I’ll teach them how to start a fire and pitch a tent properly.”

The kids’ eyes widened. “We’re going real camping after this?”

“Maybe,” Fernando grinned, “if we make it through the night in here.”

Y/N smiled as she watched her husband relax in their little world, the frustration from earlier days completely gone. They were a family, tucked away in their blanket fort, and for that night, the outside world felt very far away.

After the “camping” adventure, Y/N decided to set up a family movie night. The projector was set up in the living room, and the entire floor was covered with blankets and cushions. A bowl of popcorn sat in the middle as everyone piled in.

Y/N scrolled through the movie options. “Alright, who’s picking tonight?”

“Papa should choose!” their daughter said, looking up at Fernando.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I might pick a racing documentary.”

The kids groaned in unison, causing Y/N to laugh. “How about something a little more family-friendly, Nando?”

“Okay, okay,” he relented, leaning over to Y/N. “You choose, mi amor.”

Y/N picked an animated movie, one the kids had been wanting to see. As the movie started, their son and daughter snuggled in close, eyes glued to the screen. Y/N and Fernando sat side by side, their shoulders touching as they shared a quiet moment of peace.

Halfway through the movie, Y/N noticed Fernando’s hand had drifted over to hold hers. She glanced at him, smiling at how content he looked, the tension of the past few days completely forgotten. He was calm, at peace, surrounded by his family.

“Thank you,” Fernando whispered softly, barely audible over the movie.

Y/N looked at him, confused. “For what?”

“For reminding me that I’m more than just the racer. I’m their dad. And your husband,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand.

Y/N smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You’re always enough, Nando. Whether you’re racing or not.”

And in that moment, everything was perfect.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the uncertainty of the world outside faded away, if only for a little while.

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its-avalon-08 · 1 month ago

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Hello, could you do a Fernando Alonso one where reader is Carlos' younger sister (and with a 2 year age difference) and has athree year old daughter from a previous relationship, in which she is famous in her own right, like a model, and in which during one of the races that she and her daughter go to to support Carlos, she meets Fernando again, due to their busy schedule and in which the reader has secretly had a crush on him since forever, but is afraid to give herself another chance to fall in love and become just another on his list of conquests, even without realizing that he cares about her and her daughter, and Carlos Sr. realizing this and seeing that Fernando is a good man for her, aside from the age difference between the two, invites him to the Sainz family vacation in their Mallorca villa and during this, Reader realizes how much he cares about her and her daughter seeing him and the girl interacting as if they were father and daughter and decides to give herself another chance and starts dating and slowly revealing to everyone that they are together, from watching the races on his side of AM garage wearing his merch (much to Carlos' despair when he saw his niece exchange his merch for Fernando's) to being spotted doing family activities during non-racing periods and that in the end, after some time together, you both decide to take the big step of living together like a family

Sorry if it was too long

Familiar Faces (fa14)

✦ pairing - fernando alonso x female!reader

✦ genre - child from ex!relationship, cute, fluff, extra long

The sun was relentless that afternoon at the paddock. Y/N Sainz was used to being in the spotlight, but today, she was just a sister and mother, here to support Carlos, her older brother by two years. In one hand, she held the tiny fingers of her daughter, Lucia, while in the other, she clutched a pair of oversized sunglasses, shielding her eyes from both the blinding sunlight and, perhaps, the world of complications she didn’t want to face.

They had been to countless races before, but this one felt different. Fernando Alonso was back in the picture. The man she'd admired for years, who was not only Carlos' friend but also someone she had harbored a secret crush on for what felt like forever. But life had a funny way of making sure she kept her distance—especially after her previous relationship left her shattered.

Lucia tugged on her hand, "Mami, look! Uncle Carlos!" she squealed, spotting Carlos in his Ferrari gear across the paddock. Y/N smiled warmly at her daughter's excitement, but her eyes shifted automatically to the figure next to him. Fernando. He was wearing his Aston Martin gear, laughing with Carlos like old friends. The years had been kind to him—more rugged, more confident. And that damn smile.

“Don’t stare, Y/N,” she muttered under her breath, knowing full well she was doing just that. She picked Lucia up, hoping the small distraction of carrying her daughter would calm the rapid beating of her heart.

"Y/N!" Carlos waved them over, beaming as always.

Fernando turned when he heard Carlos call out her name. His gaze softened as it landed on her and Lucia. “Hola, Y/N. Lucia,” he greeted with a genuine smile, ruffling the little girl’s hair as they approached. His voice had a way of wrapping itself around her, and for a second, she felt the familiar ache of old feelings stir.

"Hey, Fernando," Y/N replied, keeping it cool. She smiled politely, holding her daughter a little closer. Lucia, ever the charmer, clung to Fernando's leg instantly, making the seasoned driver chuckle.

“Looks like I’ve got a fan,” Fernando teased, lifting Lucia into his arms effortlessly. Y/N’s heart fluttered at the sight of her daughter giggling in his hold.

“She does love fast cars,” Y/N said, her voice lighter than she felt. Fernando's interaction with Lucia was natural—too natural, as if he’d done this a thousand times. Seeing them together stirred something in her chest that she wasn’t prepared for.

Carlos smirked, catching Y/N’s expression for a brief moment. He had always suspected something between her and Fernando but had kept quiet out of respect. Now though, he seemed to be observing more closely.

“I’m glad you both made it today. It’s been too long,” Carlos said, pulling Y/N into a warm hug.

“Busy with work,” Y/N sighed, trying to suppress the butterflies that Fernando's presence had triggered. “But, of course, I couldn’t miss my favorite driver’s race.”

Carlos raised a brow in mock offense. “Favorite driver, huh? And here I thought I had some competition.” His gaze flicked to Fernando, who pretended to be engrossed with Lucia to avoid being dragged into the banter.

Y/N laughed, “You’ll always be my favorite.” She gave Carlos a playful nudge before turning her attention back to Fernando, who had Lucia perched on his hip as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It was becoming harder to ignore how right it felt to see him interact with her daughter.

The roar of engines echoed in the background, signaling the start of practice laps, and Fernando handed Lucia back to Y/N. “I have to go, but maybe I’ll see you two later?” he said, his eyes lingering on hers for just a second longer than necessary.

“Maybe,” Y/N replied, trying to keep her cool. “Good luck out there.”

As Fernando walked away, Carlos stepped closer, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You know, he talks about you sometimes. You and Lucia.”

Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. “Don’t start, Carlos.”

“I’m just saying. He’s a good guy, Y/N. And Lucia adores him already.” Carlos’ tone softened, genuine concern underlying his playful words.

Y/N looked over at Fernando, who was already halfway to the Aston Martin garage. She felt the familiar wall of fear rise inside her—the one that had protected her from falling again. She wasn’t ready. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

“Yeah, but Fernando has a reputation. I’m not going to be another name on his list,” she whispered, more to herself than to Carlos.

Carlos frowned, his protective instincts kicking in. “He’s different with you. With Lucia too. Just… don’t close yourself off, okay?”

Y/N glanced down at her daughter, whose big brown eyes were still following Fernando. Her heart ached with the possibility of opening up again. Could she trust him? Could she let herself fall for someone like Fernando?

“I’ll think about it,” Y/N replied softly, brushing a hand through Lucia’s curls.

Carlos patted her shoulder and smiled, “That’s all I ask.”

chapter 2: mallorca invitations

The days following the race weekend were a whirlwind of travel and photoshoots for Y/N. Between balancing her career as a model and being a full-time mother to Lucia, she barely had time to think about anything else, let alone Fernando Alonso. But the memory of how effortlessly he had bonded with Lucia lingered in her mind like a stubborn echo.

Carlos had gone back to Spain to recharge before the next race, and Y/N had followed, taking Lucia back to their family’s villa in Mallorca for a much-needed break. The scent of the sea breeze and the warmth of the sun were familiar comforts, and for a moment, Y/N thought she could put everything—especially Fernando—out of her mind.

At least, that was the plan.

One evening, as Y/N sat on the terrace, watching the sunset with a glass of wine, Carlos came out to join her. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he said, casually sitting down.

She glanced over at him, narrowing her eyes. “That tone of voice means I’m not going to like what you’re about to say.”

Carlos grinned, shrugging his shoulders. “I invited someone to come to the villa. For a few days.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her wine. “Let me guess, one of your racing friends?”

“Maybe. Just one in particular.” Carlos leaned back, crossing his arms. “Fernando.”

Y/N nearly choked on her drink. “Fernando?!”

“Relax, Y/N. It’s not a big deal,” Carlos said, though his teasing grin suggested he knew exactly what kind of reaction he was expecting.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, and she hated how transparent her emotions were when it came to Fernando. “Why would you invite him?”

“Because he’s my friend, and he’s got a few days off before the next race,” Carlos explained, leaning forward slightly. “And… maybe because I think you two need a little more time together.”

Y/N set her glass down, her heart rate picking up speed. “Carlos, I told you, I’m not looking for anything. Especially not with someone like Fernando. He’s…” She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

“He’s what? Famous? Older? Has a past?” Carlos asked, his tone softening. “Y/N, everyone has baggage. And Fernando—he cares about you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way he’s with Lucia.”

Y/N didn’t respond, looking out at the ocean instead. It was true, Fernando had always been more than just a race car driver in her eyes. He was kind, attentive, and surprisingly grounded for someone who lived in the fast lane. But the fear of getting hurt again was stronger than her desire to take a risk.

Carlos leaned closer, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot, I know that. But maybe this time… it’ll be different. And you don’t have to figure it all out at once. Just… let yourself enjoy his company.”

Y/N sighed, pushing her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know, Carlos. I just… I’m not ready.”

“You don’t have to be ready for everything,” Carlos said gently. “But you can be open to it. Just give him a chance, Y/N. For you, and for Lucia.”

Before she could protest further, the unmistakable sound of tires crunching on gravel interrupted them. Y/N glanced over her shoulder just in time to see a sleek car pulling into the villa’s driveway. Her stomach flipped when she recognized who was behind the wheel.

Fernando stepped out of the car, casually dressed in a plain white shirt and jeans, looking as if he belonged here all along. He shot Carlos a grin before his eyes found Y/N. Her breath hitched slightly, but she forced a smile.

“Hola, Y/N,” Fernando greeted, his voice carrying a warmth that made her heart skip a beat.

“Hey, Fernando,” she replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, though she could feel her pulse racing.

Carlos stood up, clapping Fernando on the back. “Glad you could make it, man. Welcome to the Sainz villa.”

Fernando’s gaze flicked back to Y/N, his expression softening as he approached. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“No, not at all,” Y/N replied, forcing herself to smile. “Carlos didn’t tell me you were coming, but it’s… nice to see you.”

She tried to focus on anything other than the fact that Fernando was standing here, looking effortlessly handsome as the setting sun cast a golden glow over the terrace.

Lucia’s excited voice rang through the house as she burst onto the terrace, spotting Fernando immediately. “Tio Fernando!” she squealed, running over to him. Without missing a beat, Fernando crouched down and scooped her up, spinning her around in the air.

“Lucia!” Fernando laughed, his face lighting up as the little girl wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re getting so big!”

Y/N watched the scene unfold, her heart swelling in a way she hadn’t expected. There was something so disarming about the way Fernando interacted with Lucia—as if he’d known her for years, as if he belonged in their little family unit. It was a dangerous feeling, one Y/N wasn’t sure she could handle.

Carlos shot her a knowing look before standing up. “I’m going to go check on dinner. You two catch up.”

Y/N wanted to protest, to tell Carlos not to leave her alone with Fernando, but it was too late. He disappeared into the house, leaving her standing awkwardly next to Fernando and Lucia.

“You’re really good with her,” Y/N said after a moment, trying to break the tension she felt building inside her.

Fernando smiled, his eyes soft as he looked at Lucia. “She’s a great kid. Takes after her mom, I think.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the compliment, but she quickly pushed it aside. “You’re too kind.”

“I mean it, Y/N,” Fernando said, his voice lower now, more serious. “I’ve always admired how you’ve handled everything. Your career, being a mom… it’s not easy.”

She looked down at the ground, feeling the weight of his words. “It’s not. But I do what I have to.”

Fernando shifted closer, his gaze intent. “You do more than that, Y/N. You’re incredible. And you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling her defenses weakening. “Fernando…”

Before she could finish, Lucia squirmed in his arms, giggling as she tugged on his shirt. “Tio Fernando, play!”

Fernando chuckled, setting her down gently. “Alright, Lucia. What do you want to play?”

As the two of them disappeared into the garden, Y/N stood there, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Maybe Carlos was right. Maybe, just maybe, Fernando was different.

And maybe, just maybe, she could allow herself to believe it.

chapter 3: a glimpse of family

The warm days in Mallorca passed with the kind of ease Y/N hadn’t felt in a long time. The Sainz family villa was alive with laughter and activity—Carlos had invited his girlfriend, Rebecca, to join them, and the dynamic felt like a true family gathering. Fernando’s presence had blended in seamlessly, which was both comforting and unnerving for Y/N. He was great with everyone, and even better with Lucia, who now followed him around the villa like a little shadow.

It hadn’t taken long for the others to notice.

One afternoon, Y/N found herself sitting on the terrace with her parents, Carlos, and Rebecca. The atmosphere was calm as they watched Lucia play in the garden with Fernando. She was running around in circles, giggling wildly as Fernando pretended to chase her. His laugh echoed through the air as he scooped her up and spun her around, Lucia’s shrieks of joy carrying on the warm breeze.

Carlos’ father, Carlos Sr., watched the scene unfold with a quiet smile. “He’s good with her, isn’t he?”

Y/N’s heart tightened at the comment. She glanced over at her father, trying to read his expression. There was no judgment, only a genuine fondness in his tone. She couldn’t deny it—Fernando was good with Lucia. Maybe too good.

Rebecca, sitting next to Carlos, leaned over with a knowing grin. “I mean, look at them. They look like a little family,” she teased softly, nudging Y/N with her elbow.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed at the observation. “Don’t start, Rebecca.”

Carlos, who had been sipping his drink, chuckled. “Hey, I’m just saying. You’d think they’ve been together for years the way Lucia clings to him.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Rebecca added, her voice gentle but sincere. “Lucia really adores him. And he’s clearly comfortable with her.”

Y/N bit her lip, her eyes flicking back to the garden. It was true—there was something so natural about the way Fernando fit into their lives. Watching him now, tossing Lucia into the air and catching her with ease, it felt like they had found some sort of rhythm. A rhythm that Y/N hadn’t expected, and certainly wasn’t prepared for.

Carlos Sr. leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You know, Y/N, sometimes people surprise you. Maybe you should give yourself a chance to be surprised.”

Y/N glanced at her father, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. “You really think he’s serious?”

Her father smiled knowingly. “I’ve known Fernando a long time. He’s not the man people think he is. With you, with Lucia—he’s different. He cares.”

Y/N wanted to believe him, but the fear of getting hurt still loomed large. She sighed, standing up from the table. “I’m going to check on Lucia,” she said, making her way toward the garden before anyone could continue the conversation.

As she approached, Fernando spotted her and smiled, his gaze softening as Lucia ran over to Y/N, arms wide open. “Mami! Tio Fernando says I can be as fast as him one day!”

Y/N laughed, scooping Lucia into her arms. “Oh, does he now?”

Fernando grinned, walking over to join them. “She’s got the determination for it.”

Y/N’s heart warmed at his words, but she quickly changed the subject, not wanting to linger on the thought of how well they all fit together. “Thank you for keeping her entertained.”

Fernando shrugged, but there was a warmth in his eyes that sent a spark through her chest. “I love spending time with her. And you.”

Y/N’s breath caught for a moment, the casual way he said those words catching her off guard. Before she could respond, Lucia tugged on her sleeve. “Mami, can I go play more?”

“Of course, baby,” Y/N replied, setting her daughter down. Lucia wasted no time, dashing back toward the makeshift obstacle course Fernando had built for her.

Once they were alone, Y/N felt the air shift. The energy between her and Fernando was charged with something unspoken, something that had been building quietly over the past few days. He stepped a little closer, his gaze lingering on her in a way that made her pulse quicken.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said softly, his voice low and intimate.

Y/N swallowed, suddenly aware of how close he was. “I haven’t been avoiding you,” she replied, though the words felt like a lie.

Fernando raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Really? Because it feels like you’ve been running away every time we’re alone.”

Y/N crossed her arms, trying to steady her breathing. “I’m just… I’m trying to be careful.”

“Careful of what?” His voice was gentle but insistent, his eyes searching hers.

She looked away, the truth sitting heavy on her chest. “Of getting hurt again. Of letting Lucia get attached to someone who might not stay.”

Fernando’s expression softened, and he took a small step closer, so close that Y/N could feel the warmth radiating off him. “Y/N, I would never hurt you. Or Lucia.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, torn between fear and the undeniable connection she felt toward him. “You say that now, but…” She trailed off, her voice faltering as she met his gaze again.

Fernando reached out, gently taking her hand in his. The simple touch sent a wave of electricity through her, and for a moment, all her doubts seemed to fade away. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly, his voice full of conviction. “I care about you. About both of you.”

Y/N felt her walls crumbling as his thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles. It was such a small gesture, but it carried so much weight. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the quiet promise that he wasn’t just another fleeting presence in her life.

Before she could say anything, Lucia called out from the garden, breaking the moment. Y/N blinked, pulling her hand away as reality came rushing back. “I should… I should check on her.”

Fernando nodded, but there was something lingering between them, something unresolved. “We’ll talk later,” he said softly, his voice full of meaning.

Y/N nodded, her heart still racing as she walked toward Lucia, trying to steady herself. But as she glanced back at Fernando, she knew that things had changed. That charged moment between them had cracked open something she wasn’t sure she could put back together.

And maybe… maybe she didn’t want to.

chapter 4: a love confession

The villa was quiet that night, the rest of the family already asleep after another long day of sun, laughter, and shared meals. Y/N stood on the terrace, the warm breeze playing with the edges of her hair as she looked out at the moonlit sea. Her mind was swirling with thoughts—about Fernando, about her daughter, about the conversation they’d had earlier in the garden. She felt like she was standing on the edge of something, something big and terrifying.

Footsteps padded softly behind her, and she didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Fernando. His presence was magnetic, pulling her in even when she wasn’t ready to face her feelings.

“You’re out late,” his voice came from behind her, calm and steady. “Can’t sleep?”

Y/N smiled to herself, keeping her eyes on the horizon. “Just thinking. What about you?”

“I saw the lights were still on,” Fernando said, stepping up beside her. His voice was low, the kind of tone that made her heart skip a beat. “Figured you might need company.”

Y/N swallowed, trying to steady her racing thoughts. The last thing she needed was another conversation where she danced around her feelings. She wasn’t good at this—the raw, vulnerable side of love that she had been so carefully avoiding since Lucia was born.

“I appreciate it,” she murmured, staring down at her hands resting on the railing.

Fernando stayed silent for a moment, and then, with that same steady calmness, he spoke again. “You know, you’ve been avoiding this conversation. Us.”

Her chest tightened. He was right, and there was no sense denying it. Y/N let out a breath, trying to find the words. “I’m just… I don’t want to make the same mistakes. I’m not like other women, Fernando. I have Lucia, and I need to be careful about who I let into her life. Into my life.”

He stepped closer, so close she could feel the warmth radiating from him. “I know that,” he said quietly. “And I respect that more than you know. But I also think you’re scared of something more.”

Y/N felt her heart pound in her chest, his words cutting through all the defenses she had built. She was scared. Not just of the potential for things to go wrong, but of letting herself care for someone like Fernando. Someone who could break down all her walls and leave her vulnerable in a way she hadn’t been since Lucia’s father.

“I don’t want to be just another woman you get close to,” Y/N said, her voice small, barely a whisper. “I’ve seen how easily people fall in and out of your life. And I don’t want that for me… or for her.”

Fernando’s face softened, and without hesitation, he gently turned her to face him. His eyes locked onto hers, and for the first time, Y/N saw something in them she hadn’t allowed herself to believe was real—genuine emotion, care, and something deeper.

“You’re not just anyone to me,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “I don’t play games with you, Y/N. I don’t flirt just to pass the time, not with you. I’ve felt something for you for a long time. I didn’t say anything because I knew you were going through so much. I didn’t want to complicate your life.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and it made her stomach flip. “Fernando—”

“I love you,” he said, cutting her off gently. His voice was unwavering, the words falling between them like a promise. “I love you, Y/N. And I love Lucia. I care about both of you, not just as something temporary, but something real. I want to be a part of your lives, however you’ll let me.”

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She had spent so long guarding her heart, but here he was, confessing the one thing she had never dared hope for. “You love me?” she repeated, her voice trembling with disbelief.

Fernando smiled softly, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “Yes, I do. And I’ll spend as long as it takes to prove that to you.”

The vulnerability in his words broke through all the fear and hesitation she had been holding on to. Without thinking, Y/N stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but as Fernando’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, it deepened, filled with all the emotion they had both been holding back.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N rested her forehead against his, her heart racing but steadying with a new kind of certainty. “I love you too,” she whispered, the weight of the confession lifting from her chest. “I’ve always loved you, but I was just so scared…”

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” Fernando murmured, his hands still holding her gently. “We’ll figure it out together. You and me. And Lucia.”

The relief that flooded through Y/N was overwhelming, and for the first time in years, she allowed herself to believe that she could have this—happiness, love, and a future where she wasn’t always afraid of what might go wrong.

The next morning, the entire family could sense something had shifted. Y/N and Fernando weren’t hiding it anymore, and while they weren’t overtly affectionate, the smiles, the glances, and the way they gravitated toward each other made it obvious.

Carlos Sr. raised an eyebrow at his daughter over breakfast, giving her a knowing smile. “So… anything you’d like to share, hija?”

Y/N blushed, but before she could respond, Lucia came running into the room, wearing something that made everyone stop in their tracks—an Aston Martin hat. Green. With Fernando Alonso’s logo proudly displayed on the front.

Carlos almost choked on his coffee. “Is… is that… is my niece wearing Fernando’s merch?”

Lucia beamed, oblivious to her uncle’s horror. “Tio Fernando gave it to me! I’m gonna sit with him next race!”

Carlos gaped at Y/N, then at Fernando, who sat across the table looking far too pleased with himself. “Seriously? First my sister, now my niece?”

Fernando chuckled, lifting his coffee cup in a mock toast. “What can I say? She’s a fan.”

Carlos shook his head, muttering under his breath. “Next thing you know, she’ll be racing for Aston Martin too.”

Rebecca laughed, patting Carlos on the arm. “You’ll survive, cariño. It’s kind of sweet.”

Y/N looked at Fernando, who met her gaze with a smile that made her heart skip a beat. They had done it—taken the first step into something real, and seeing her family embrace it, even with Carlos’ exaggerated protests, made it all the more perfect.

As they all gathered around the table, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like she had found her place, her family. And this time, she wasn’t afraid.

and maybe, maybe she was finally in love.

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its-avalon-08 · 2 months ago

Text

moody pouty babies (cs55)

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏ/ɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀʀʟᴏꜱ ɢᴇᴛ ᴍᴏᴏᴅʏ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴇᴀᴄʜᴏᴛʜᴇʀ

✦ pairing - carlos sainz x female!reader

✦ genre - very little angst, funny arguments, tears, comfort

carlos getting moody after y/n comes back from a business trip

Carlos sat on the couch, arms crossed, staring at the door as Y/N came back from her business trip. He had been sulking ever since she left, and even though he had missed her terribly, he wasn't going to let it show right away.

“Hey, babe,” Y/N called out cheerfully as she stepped inside, carrying her bag. She looked at him with a smile, but Carlos just gave her a moody glance, barely grunting in response.

She raised an eyebrow, sensing his weird mood. “Everything okay?”

Carlos huffed, standing up and pacing around the living room. “Do you know how much longer it took you to get home than it should have?”

Y/N blinked, confused. “Uh, I don’t know? Maybe ten minutes? There was some traffic from the airport.”

“Ten minutes!” Carlos threw his hands up in frustration. “Why did you take the longer route? You always take the one through the main road, but today you decide to take the one that adds time? After being away for so long, you’d think you’d want to come home faster.”

Y/N stared at him, trying to gauge whether he was serious or not. "Carlos, it was just a little traffic. It’s no big deal.”

He scoffed, his jaw tight. "Yeah, well, it is a big deal. And that’s not the only thing. You—" he spun around to face her, his expression frustrated, "—you didn’t pick up my calls fast enough either."

Y/N blinked again. "What?"

"You picked up on the fifth ring," Carlos accused, his eyes narrowing. "You usually answer by the second. What, you were too busy for me?"

Y/N bit her lip, trying not to laugh. He was so serious about this, and it was becoming obvious that this wasn’t about the traffic or the phone calls. He was upset because he missed her, just like she had missed him. Only, unlike her, Carlos didn’t know how to handle his feelings. He just got pouty. And angry. Over nothing.

"Carlos, I wasn’t ignoring you," she said, trying to sound reasonable. "I was just busy. I missed you too, you know."

"Did you?" he snapped, his voice rising slightly. "Because it didn’t feel like it when you left me waiting on your calls. And you didn’t even text me when you landed! I had to figure out you were back from looking at the flight tracker!"

Y/N pressed her lips together, stifling her amusement. He was sulking so much it was almost adorable.

“Carlos,” she began softly, walking closer to him. “Are you really mad about the route I took home? Or the phone calls?”

“Yes!” Carlos insisted, though his tone wasn’t as convincing. “And… and you didn’t even bring me my favorite snacks from the airport.”

Y/N couldn’t help it. A laugh escaped her, and Carlos’s face twisted into an even deeper pout.

“You’re laughing?” he grumbled, crossing his arms tighter. “This isn’t funny, Y/N. I missed you and all I get is a long wait and a bad route home.”

Seeing him in full pout mode, Y/N decided enough was enough. Before Carlos could protest further, she leaped onto his back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“Y/N! What are you—”

She didn’t let him finish as she started peppering his face with kisses. One on his cheek, then his jaw, then the tip of his nose. "I missed you," she cooed between kisses. "I missed you so much."

Carlos’s protests faltered, his face softening even though he tried to hold onto his anger. "I—"

Another kiss landed right on his pouty lips, and despite himself, he smiled. "Stop," he mumbled, though he didn’t sound convincing.

“Nope!” Y/N kissed his cheek again, giggling. “You’re being so grumpy, Carlos. Why didn’t you just say you missed me?”

Carlos sighed, finally giving in, though he was still pouting a little. "I did miss you," he muttered. "But you took so long to get back, and I just… I don’t know. I hate it when you’re gone."

Y/N loosened her grip slightly, sliding off his back and facing him, cupping his cheeks with both hands. “You’re such a baby sometimes,” she teased, planting a kiss on his forehead. “I missed you too, you know. It wasn’t on purpose that I took the long route, and I wasn’t trying to ignore you. I just got caught up.”

Carlos sighed again, his pout fading as he leaned into her touch. "I know. I’m just… it’s hard when you’re not here." He finally let his guard down, pulling her into a hug. “I missed you more than I care to admit.”

Y/N smiled, hugging him tightly in return. "Well, I’m here now. And next time, I’ll make sure to take the shortest route home, okay? No more delays."

He chuckled softly, kissing the top of her head. "And pick up by the second ring."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "You’re impossible."

Carlos smirked, his mood lightening completely as he kissed her cheek one last time. "I’m your impossible."

y/n getting moody after carlos is gone for a triple header

The door to the apartment clicked open, and Carlos stepped inside, weary but smiling, his bag slung over his shoulder. He had just returned from a grueling triple-header and all he wanted was to relax. He was about to call out for Y/N when she stormed out of the living room, arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Hey, mi amor," Carlos greeted, still clueless about the storm that was brewing. "I missed you so much."

"Really? Did you?" Y/N shot back, her tone icy, though her eyes hinted at something deeper. She was upset—no, more than upset. She was furious. About what? He didn’t know yet, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.

Carlos blinked, thrown off by her hostility. "Uh, yeah. Of course I did," he said, his voice unsure.

She scoffed. "Did you miss me enough to even notice that the painting in the hallway is crooked? It's been like that for weeks, Carlos!"

Carlos furrowed his brows in confusion. "The painting? What? I—"

"You walk right past it like it’s not a big deal! How do you not notice something like that? It’s right there!"

Carlos turned to look at the painting, squinting. "It’s barely tilted, Y/N. I can fix it right now if it bothers you—"

"That’s not the point!" Y/N snapped, her frustration building. "It’s about paying attention! To the little things! You walk in here like everything is fine and you don’t even care about how things are falling apart while you're gone."

"Falling apart?" Carlos repeated, completely lost. "You’re upset about the painting?"

Y/N threw her hands up in the air. "No, Carlos! I’m upset about everything! You’ve been gone for weeks, and I’m here, waiting, missing you, and you just—ugh!" She let out an exasperated sound and turned away from him.

Carlos watched her, realization starting to dawn. This wasn’t about the painting. She was missing him—really missing him—and all of this was her way of expressing it. But before he could respond, she whirled back around.

"And another thing!" she continued, her tone rising again. "Why do you leave your laundry in the same pile? I’m not your maid, Carlos. I’m not here to pick up after you every time you walk through the door. You could at least—"

"Y/N," Carlos interrupted, trying not to smile. "Mi vida, you’re yelling about laundry now?"

"Yes! And the way you walk! You just stomp around like you don’t even care that people live here too!" She was pacing now, angry tears threatening to spill. "It’s like you come back and nothing changes, and you don’t care about the things that matter to me, and—"

Carlos stepped forward, his hands reaching out to gently hold her arms. "Y/N, stop," he said softly, finally understanding.

She paused, glaring up at him, her chest heaving as she tried to rein in her emotions. "What?" she muttered, still angry but now starting to feel embarrassed.

"You’re not mad about the painting or the laundry," Carlos said, his voice calm, his eyes soft. "You’re mad because you missed me."

Y/N’s lip trembled, and she looked away, her anger flickering. "No. I mean… maybe. But—"

"You missed me, and instead of saying that, you’re picking fights about silly things," Carlos continued, his tone playful now. "The painting? Really, cariño?"

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she crossed her arms again. "Well, it is crooked," she grumbled, her voice softer now.

Carlos chuckled, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her waist. "You could’ve just said you missed me. I would’ve held you and kissed you right away instead of talking about laundry and crooked paintings."

She huffed, her walls finally coming down as she leaned into him. "I didn’t want to sound clingy," she mumbled into his chest, her arms sliding around his back.

Carlos pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her tighter. "You could never be clingy. I missed you too, Y/N. So much."

She looked up at him, still trying to hold on to some of her frustration. "Well, I was alone for three whole races. You could’ve texted me more."

Carlos grinned, his eyes shining with affection. "You know I’m always busy on race weekends. But I’ll make it up to you. How about I fix the painting, do the laundry, and then we spend the rest of the day together?"

Y/N narrowed her eyes. "And no more stomping around the house?"

Carlos laughed. "No more stomping. I promise."

Finally, Y/N let herself smile, her anger melting away as she rested her head on his chest. "Okay. But the painting better be straight."

Carlos chuckled again and kissed her softly. "Whatever you say, mi amor. Whatever you say."

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its-avalon-08 · 2 months ago

Note

hello could I please request a Fernando x driver reader long one shot.: maybe where she’s Jules Bianchi or Sennas daughter and the whole trope of she fell first but he fell harder. It seems like he hates her or what ever lots of angst but then lots of fluff in the end please I’m dying for some nando stuff

The One That Got Away (Until She Didn’t) (fa14)

✦ pairing - fernando alonso x female!reader

✦ genre - enemies to lovers, angst, bianchi!daughter!reader, cute, fluff,

The roar of engines filled the paddock, drowning out any attempt at conversation. To Y/N Bianchi, that sound was home. She’d grown up hearing it from the sidelines, watching her father, Jules Bianchi, carve out a name for himself on the track. Now, it was her turn. And she was determined to do more than just live in her father’s shadow.

Y/N had proven herself time and time again in the lower categories, earning her place on the Formula 1 grid not as Jules’ daughter, but as Y/N Bianchi—talented in her own right. But there was one person who didn’t seem to care. One person who, no matter what she did, kept his distance. Cold. Detached. That person was Fernando Alonso.

She felt his eyes on her now as she adjusted her helmet before practice. His gaze was always there—burning holes into her, yet never engaging. It wasn’t admiration or respect. No, it was something darker. Disdain, maybe? Contempt?

Fernando Alonso, two-time world champion, one of the most experienced drivers on the grid, and the man she had admired since she was a child, seemed to hate her.

She wasn’t naive. She knew how the paddock worked. The comparisons to her father were inevitable, and she could deal with that. But Fernando’s icy attitude toward her went beyond mere skepticism. It was as though her very presence was an insult to him, a constant reminder of something she couldn’t quite understand.

“I don’t get him,” Y/N muttered to her race engineer, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling in her chest.

“Hm?” he asked, distracted as he went over the car’s setup for the session.

“Alonso,” she clarified, stealing a glance across the garage. Fernando was deep in conversation with his own team, but for just a second, his eyes flicked toward her, narrowing slightly before he turned away. “He acts like I don’t belong here.”

Her engineer chuckled. “Fernando’s like that with everyone. Don’t take it personally.”

But it was personal. She could feel it in the way he ignored her, never acknowledging her efforts on the track, never offering even a nod of recognition. Every interaction—or lack thereof—felt like a rejection. She’d tried to talk to him once or twice, but each time, he’d brushed her off, offering nothing more than curt one-liners before walking away.

But despite it all, Y/N couldn’t help the way her heart raced when he was near. She hated herself for it. Admiring someone who clearly couldn’t stand her? Pathetic. She’d spent her entire life learning how to shut out doubt, how to ignore the voices that told her she wasn’t enough. But with Fernando, it was different. His silence cut deeper than anyone’s words ever could.

Later that afternoon, the team debrief ended, and Y/N found herself lingering in the paddock, stretching the muscles in her neck after a long day of practice. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the scene, and most of the other drivers had already left. Except for Fernando.

She saw him leaning against the wall near his motorhome, scrolling through his phone, his face cast in shadows. Something in her snapped. The tension had been building for months now, and she was done pretending she didn’t notice his cold shoulder. She was done feeling like she had to prove herself to him.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N strode over, her boots scuffing the gravel beneath her feet. Fernando looked up as she approached, his expression unreadable, as usual.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his tone indifferent, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of annoyance.

Y/N crossed her arms, standing just a few feet away from him. “Why do you hate me?”

Fernando raised an eyebrow. “Hate you?” He pushed off the wall, slipping his phone into his pocket. “I don’t hate you.”

“Really? Because that’s sure what it feels like.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she held her ground. “Every time I’m near you, you act like I’m some kind of nuisance. You don’t talk to me. You don’t even look at me unless you’re judging me. So what is it? Do you think I don’t deserve to be here? Or is it because I’m Bianchi’s daughter and that makes me some kind of charity case?”

Fernando’s expression darkened. “Careful, Y/N.”

“No,” she shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’m tired of being careful. I’m tired of walking on eggshells around you. What’s your problem?”

For a moment, Fernando said nothing. His eyes flicked over her face, and something unfamiliar passed between them—an emotion she couldn’t quite place. Regret? Anger? No, it was something else. But before she could process it, Fernando spoke, his voice colder than she’d ever heard it.

“You think I care about what you do?” he asked, stepping closer. His presence was overwhelming, and she fought the instinct to step back. “You’re not special, Y/N. You’re just another driver, trying to make it. If you think I’m here to validate you, you’re wrong. I don’t owe you anything.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. But instead of backing down, she lifted her chin, defiance burning in her chest. “I never asked for your validation. I just wanted to understand why you go out of your way to make me feel like I don’t belong.”

Fernando’s jaw tightened. For a split second, it seemed like he wanted to say something else, something real, but then he simply turned away, shaking his head.

“Get used to it, Bianchi,” he muttered before walking past her, leaving her standing alone with nothing but the sinking feeling in her chest.

As Y/N watched him walk away, frustration and confusion swirled within her. Whatever was going on between them—whatever tension was brewing beneath the surface—it wasn’t just in her head. But as much as she hated to admit it, Fernando Alonso was an enigma she wasn’t sure she’d ever unravel.

And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t ready to give up trying.

she tried yet another time.

“Do you have a problem with me?” Y/N stormed into the hospitality suite after another cold interaction.

Fernando didn’t look up from his cup of coffee. His jaw clenched, fingers tightening around the mug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She stepped closer, her voice cracking slightly. “Every time we’re in the same room, you act like I’m a ghost. Is it because of my father?”

At that, his head snapped up, eyes flashing. “Don’t bring him into this.”

“Why not? That’s what it is, right? You think I’m just trying to ride his coattails?” She was shaking now, all the pent-up emotions spilling out. “I’m not him, Fernando. I never will be. But I’m here because I’m good at this—because I deserve it. I’ve done everything I can to prove myself, to you—”

“You don’t need to prove anything to me,” he cut her off sharply, his voice low but dangerous. “I’m not your judge.”

“Then why do you treat me like I don’t exist? Like I’m nothing?”

There was silence. Fernando’s eyes darkened, the usual stoicism replaced with something… deeper. Anger? Pain?

“You don’t understand,” he finally muttered, standing abruptly and walking towards the door.

Y/N’s heart pounded. “Then help me understand.”

But he left without another word, leaving her standing alone, her heart heavier than ever.

time skip

Weeks passed, and the tension between them only grew. Y/N found herself dominating during races, yet her mind constantly swirling with thoughts of him. Every shared glance felt like a knife to her chest, but she couldn’t stop the feelings that had taken root deep inside.

Then, in one race, disaster struck. Y/N crashed. It wasn’t her fault, a freak incident, but the world spun around her as she crawled out of the wreckage, bruised and shaken. She couldn’t escape the memories of her father’s crash, the fear bubbling up.

She sat in the medical room, waiting for clearance, when Fernando stormed in.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he spat, eyes blazing with an intensity she’d never seen.

Y/N looked up, tears already welling in her eyes. “I didn’t—”

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” His voice broke, and that’s when she realized—he wasn’t just angry. He was scared.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, unsure if she was trying to convince herself or him.

“No, you’re not.” His hand came up to grip the back of his neck, the strain clear in his posture. “You’re reckless, Y/N. Just like him.”

The mention of her father felt like a slap. “Don’t you dare—”

“You think I’m pushing you away because I hate you?” He stepped closer, voice shaking. “It’s the opposite. I care too much.”

Her breath caught. “What?”

“You… you’re everywhere,” he continued, pacing now. “Every time I see you on the track, I think about how easily things can go wrong. About losing you. And I can’t—” He stopped, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I can’t lose you the way I lost him.”

Y/N’s heart raced, disbelief washing over her. “But… you’ve been so distant. You acted like you didn’t care at all.”

He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “That’s because I’m a coward, Y/N. I thought if I kept you at a distance, I wouldn’t have to feel… this.”

She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “Feel what?”

Fernando took a deep breath, his hands dropping to his sides in defeat. “I’ve been falling for you since the day you arrived, but I was too damn scared to admit it.”

Y/N blinked, frozen in place. “You… you’re in love with me?”

“I didn’t want to be,” he admitted, his voice soft now, almost broken. “But I am. And every time you’re out there, I’m terrified.”

She stepped closer to him, her heart aching for the man in front of her. “You never had to push me away, Fernando. I’ve been in love with you for months.”

He looked at her, something shifting in his expression—like he’d finally allowed himself to feel everything he’d been holding back. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it seemed like you hated me.”

He laughed, the sound bitter. “I could never hate you, Y/N.”

Without thinking, she closed the distance between them, her hand finding his. “Then don’t push me away anymore. Let me in.”

Fernando hesitated, but then, with a sigh of surrender, he pulled her into his arms, holding her like she might disappear if he let go. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against her hair. “I’m so damn sorry.”

She buried her face in his chest, tears of relief spilling down her cheeks. “You’re forgiven.”

time skip

From that day on, everything changed. The tension between them melted into something warmer, something real. Fernando was no longer the distant figure she’d admired from afar; he was hers, fully and completely.

They spent their days sneaking moments together in the paddock, quiet confessions whispered in between practice sessions. He would steal kisses when no one was looking, his usual stern demeanor softening only for her.

“You’re impossible,” she teased one evening as they sat on the balcony of their hotel room, watching the sun dip below the horizon.

“And yet, you love me,” he smirked, pulling her closer.

Y/N smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I do.”

Fernando’s arm tightened around her, his voice low but full of emotion. “You fell for me, Y/N. But I fell harder, you know?”

She chuckled. “Maybe. But I'm catching up.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, the weight of the world no longer pressing on either of them. “I’m never letting you go.”

And for the first time, Y/N believed him.

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its-avalon-08 · 2 months ago

Note

Hi, I’m writing to ask if you could write a Daniel Ricciardo x reader story. (I know very well that this isn’t the right time since we’re all devastated because of his departure), but I’ve had this story in my mind for a long time. It’s a pretty serious subject, but I’d like to know how Daniel and the other drivers would react when they discover that a team principal (I have no idea who) is accused of sexual harassment, etc. And how he would react to finding out that his girlfriend, the reader, is one of the complainants and that she hid it from him.

thanks love

as the world crumbles (dr3)

✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, sexual harassment

The atmosphere in the paddock was tense, much tenser than usual. News traveled fast, but this—this was different. Rumors had been swirling for hours, but when the official statement came out, the paddock fell into a stunned silence.

Mattias Verner, the team principal of a mid-field F1 team, had been accused of sexual harassment by multiple women on his team. It was the kind of scandal that shook the sport to its core. No one had seen it coming.

Lando Norris was the first to speak up, leaning against the side of the McLaren garage, his expression one of disbelief. “Is this for real?” He looked around at the other drivers who had gathered, his eyes wide with shock. “I mean… Verner?”

George Russell shook his head, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his usually calm demeanor replaced with a mixture of anger and discomfort. “I’ve heard things before, you know. Like whispers. But I didn’t think…” He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

"Yeah, but whispers don’t always mean something, mate." Alex Albon frowned, his face pale. "But this? It’s in the statement. There are names. Women from the team."

Max was silent, his face set in a deep frown as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “Bastard deserves whatever’s coming to him,” he muttered under his breath, jaw clenched. The usual cold determination in his eyes was now replaced with something darker. “People like him shouldn’t be anywhere near the sport.”

Carlos shook his head, running a hand through his hair, frustration clear on his face. "I don’t get how no one knew. How did this stay hidden for so long?" He glanced around at the other drivers, as if hoping someone had an answer.

Pierre , sitting on a crate, tapped his foot anxiously. “People like that… they’re always careful. They make sure no one notices until it’s too late.”

Lewis , who had just arrived, listened quietly before finally speaking. "It’s disgusting. He abused his power. Makes me sick." His voice was low, simmering with barely contained anger. "We need to do better. As a sport, as a community. These women—" He paused, shaking his head. "They trusted him, and he betrayed them."

The drivers all nodded in agreement, but there was a deep discomfort in the air. They were used to competing against each other, fighting for the championship, pushing themselves and their cars to the limit. But this—this wasn’t about racing. This was about something far more personal, something far more sinister.

Charles Leclerc looked around, his brow furrowed. “Do we know who the women are? I mean, do they want us to support them publicly or keep quiet until the investigation finishes?”

Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “From what I’ve heard, some of the names are out there. But I don’t know all of them. It’s… sensitive.”

Daniel Ricciardo, who had been standing off to the side, unusually quiet, felt a cold shiver run down his spine. The whole situation disgusted him. The idea that someone so high up in the sport could abuse their position like that made his blood boil. "Whoever they are," he said, his voice low, "we have to have their backs. They’re part of this paddock, just like us."

The others nodded in agreement, but a heavy silence fell over the group again. They were all thinking the same thing—Who was involved? Who had been hurt? And why hadn’t they noticed anything sooner?

Lance Stroll spoke up hesitantly. “I can’t believe it’s taken this long for something to come out. I mean… if it’s true—”

“If?” Max interrupted sharply, his eyes flashing with anger. “You don’t think this many women are lying, do you?”

Lance held up his hands defensively. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… it’s hard to wrap your head around. That someone we’ve seen for years could be—” He trailed off, shaking his head.

Esteban Ocon, who had been mostly quiet, finally said, “It’s hard to accept, but we have to. These women deserve to be believed. And Verner… if it’s true, he’s finished. No way back from this.”

The drivers exchanged looks, all of them sharing a silent understanding. This wasn’t just another scandal that would be brushed under the rug. This was something that would change the sport forever.

Daniel stayed quiet for a moment longer, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. But there was something gnawing at him, something he couldn’t quite shake. The whole situation felt too close, too personal. And then, almost as if the thought had struck him like a punch to the gut, his eyes widened slightly.

He looked over at Lando, who was still talking with George, his words fading into the background. But Daniel’s focus had shifted entirely.

"Y/N," he muttered under his breath, his heart suddenly racing. She worked in the paddock. She knew people. She was in those circles, always professional, always around the team principals and engineers.

His stomach twisted into knots.

Without another word, Daniel turned on his heel and started walking briskly toward the McLaren garage. He had to find her. He had to know if she was okay. And more importantly—he had to make sure she hadn’t been hurt.

Because if she had… if that bastard had hurt her in any way—

Daniel’s hands clenched into fists as he marched through the paddock, his mind spinning with fear and fury.

His phone buzzed, pulling him from the murmurs of his fellow drivers. It was a message from Y/N:

"We need to talk. Now."

He stared at the message for a moment, a strange heaviness settling over him. He stood up abruptly, not bothering to excuse himself as he walked out of the room. He found Y/N waiting for him near the motorhome, her face pale and her hands trembling slightly as she clenched them together.

"Dan," she began softly, her voice shaky. "I… I need to tell you something."

His chest tightened as he saw the fear in her eyes. "Y/N, what’s going on?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

She bit her lip, glancing around before gesturing for them to go somewhere more private. Once they were alone, she took a deep breath. "It’s about the accusations… against the team principal. I—" She stopped, her voice faltering.

Daniel’s heart started to pound. He could feel the gravity of what she was about to say but wasn’t ready to hear it. "Y/N, please. Just tell me."

The noise of the paddock was deafening, but it was nothing compared to the roaring in Daniel’s ears as Y/N’s words sank in.

"I’m one of the complainants."

He blinked, frozen in place. For a moment, it felt like the world stopped spinning. His girlfriend. Y/N. She was part of the accusations against Mattias Verner. His throat tightened, his mind racing, but all he could feel was rage building deep in his chest, the kind that twisted his stomach and made his hands curl into fists.

For a moment, everything froze. Daniel blinked, his body stiffening. "You?" His voice cracked, his heart dropping like a stone. "He—he hurt you?"

Y/N’s eyes were brimming with tears, and she nodded, looking away. "I didn’t want to tell you. I was scared of what you’d do… how you’d react."

Daniel’s breath caught, a wave of anger, hurt, and confusion crashing over him all at once. His jaw clenched tightly as rage filled his chest, every muscle in his body tensing. "Scared of what I’d do? Of what I’d do?" His voice was low, trembling with barely contained fury. "You think I wouldn’t want to know? That I wouldn’t need to know that some piece of shit was hurting you?"

Y/N flinched at the venom in his voice, but he couldn’t stop. His anger wasn’t at her—it was at Verner, at the fact that someone had the audacity to hurt her. The fact that she’d been going through this alone, that she hadn’t felt safe enough to tell him… it broke something inside him.

"That bastard," Daniel spat, pacing in front of her now, his fists clenched. "That disgusting bastard." His voice shook with anger, his heart thundering in his chest. "I swear to God, Y/N, I’m going to kill him. I’m going to make sure he never walks into a paddock again, that he never touches another woman again." He stopped, turning back to her, his eyes blazing with fury. "No one—no one—hurts you and gets away with it."

Y/N’s voice cracked, tears spilling over as she reached for him. "Daniel, please…"

But he cut her off, his voice breaking. "How long have you been dealing with this? How long have you been keeping this from me?"

Her sobs came harder now, her body trembling as she spoke through her tears. "I didn’t want to burden you. I didn’t want you to see me differently. I was trying to be strong—"

"Burden me?" Daniel’s voice softened, the anger still there but mixed with heartbreak. "Y/N, you’re my whole world. How could you ever think I wouldn’t want to be there for you? That I wouldn’t stand by your side through this?"

She let out a choked sob, her knees giving way as she collapsed into herself, and in that instant, Daniel’s anger shifted. Seeing her like that—so broken, so vulnerable—ripped him apart. Without hesitation, he dropped down beside her, pulling her into his arms. She clung to him, crying into his chest as he held her tightly, pressing his lips against her hair.

"I’m so sorry," she whispered between sobs. "I didn’t want to hurt you."

Daniel’s heart shattered at the sound of her voice, guilt flooding him. He gently rocked her, his anger at Verner still burning hot, but all he could think about now was comforting her. "Shh," he murmured softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. "It’s okay, love. It’s okay. I’m here now. I’ve got you."

She cried harder, her sobs wracking her body as Daniel held her tighter, his own throat tightening with emotion. "I should’ve been there for you," he whispered, his voice raw with pain. "I should’ve known."

Y/N shook her head, burying her face in his chest. "I didn’t want to drag you into this mess."

"You’re not dragging me into anything," Daniel said, his voice fierce but tender. "This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. That bastard—" His voice broke again, and he swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. "He’s going to pay for what he did. I promise you that."

She trembled in his arms, and Daniel’s heart broke a little more with every sob. He kissed the top of her head, his hand stroking her hair as he whispered, "You should’ve told me, Y/N. You should’ve let me help you through this."

"I was scared," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I didn’t want you to be angry. I didn’t want you to hate me—"

"Hate you?" Daniel pulled back just enough to cup her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes. "I could never hate you, Y/N. Never." His voice was thick with emotion, his thumb gently wiping away her tears. "I’m angry, yeah. But not at you. I’m angry at him, at the fact that you had to go through this alone."

Her lip trembled as she whispered, "I didn’t want to be weak."

"You’re not weak," Daniel said firmly, his voice full of conviction. "You’re the strongest person I know. But you don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me."

She sobbed again, leaning into his touch as he held her face in his hands. "I love you," she whispered, her voice broken.

"I love you too," Daniel whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "And I’m going to be here for you, no matter what. We’re going to get through this. Together."

Y/N’s sobs began to quiet as she clung to him, and Daniel held her tightly, his heart aching for her. The anger still simmered beneath the surface, a fire he knew wouldn’t go out until Verner was held accountable, but for now, all that mattered was Y/N. She was safe in his arms, and he wasn’t going to let go.

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