its-avalon-08

[its-avalon-08]

the paths we didn't take (cl16)

part2!

multipart story! part 1

Summary : Years ago, Charles Leclerc and Y/N promised to let each other go—for his dreams, for her freedom. No calls, no texts, just memories they buried deep. But when fate reunites them in Monaco, old scars and unresolved feelings resurface. Some loves are unforgettable, but can they find their way back, or is it too late?

✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader

Chapter 2: "The Time We Have Left"

It was the end of March, and the air had already started to feel like summer in Monaco. The nights were warmer, and the stars glistened in the sky as if they were the last thing that still made sense. Charles and Y/N sat on the roof of his house, the same place they had spent so many evenings, but tonight it felt different. There was a tension in the air that neither of them wanted to acknowledge, even though it had been building for months.

Charles had been getting busier with his racing commitments. He was training, traveling, and constantly surrounded by the pressures of his growing career. Y/N had noticed the distance creeping in—the long hours of silence, the days when he wasn’t there, and the phone calls that turned into brief texts. They had both pretended it didn’t matter. But now, as graduation loomed closer, the question was hanging over them: What comes next?

“So, you know what Charlotte asked me today?” Y/N’s voice broke the silence, her words soft but heavy, as she stared at the sky.

Charles turned his head toward her, his brow furrowing slightly. He knew the question was coming. He had been dreading it, but he also knew it was inevitable. “What did she ask?” he replied, though he already knew.

“She asked if we’re going to try to make it work after graduation,” Y/N said quietly. “Like, what’s the plan for us when school ends?” She took a deep breath, her heart sinking as she said the words out loud. “I didn’t really have an answer.”

Charles’ heart tightened in his chest. He’d been avoiding this conversation for so long, but the truth was that it had been growing between them for months. He could feel it in the way she looked at him now, the way she was no longer laughing at his jokes the way she used to. He ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words.

“I don’t have an answer either,” he murmured, his voice distant. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he knew he had to be honest. “You’re going to college, Y/N. I’ll be traveling constantly, focusing on racing. It’s not fair to you... to us.”

Y/N didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. If she did, she feared the tears she was fighting would spill over. Her eyes were burning, but she kept them trained on the night sky. “I know,” she whispered. “I know it’s not fair. But it’s not like I expected everything to be perfect after graduation. We both have our dreams, Charles. You’ve worked your whole life for this, and I can’t be the one to hold you back.”

Charles looked at her, his throat tightening. She was being so strong, so composed, but he could hear the pain in her voice. She wasn’t guilt-tripping him; she was being realistic, and that made it all the harder.

“Y/N...” His voice faltered, and he reached out to take her hand, but she pulled away just slightly, not wanting to break down in front of him. “I don’t want to lose you. But I know I will.”

Her breath hitched. She didn’t want to lose him either. How could she? But the truth was, they had already started to slip away from each other. She could feel it in every goodbye, every unanswered text. Racing was consuming him, and she wasn’t sure where she fit into that world anymore.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I also don’t want to stand in the way of your future. And I don’t want to drag you into something where I’ll just end up being resentful and hurt because you’re too busy for me.”

Charles closed his eyes. This wasn’t how he imagined their last few months of high school to go. They were supposed to be making memories, laughing together, not preparing for the inevitable.

“You’re not going to be a burden to me, Y/N,” he said, his voice raw. “But I don’t know how to do this. How do we stay together when everything around us is pulling us apart?”

Y/N swallowed, trying to fight the tears that were threatening to spill. She turned to look at him, her heart aching as she saw the pain in his eyes. She wanted to tell him that they could make it work, that love could overcome all things. But they both knew that wasn’t the reality they were facing.

“I think we both need to live our lives,” Y/N said softly, her voice breaking. “We can’t pretend like we have all the time in the world anymore, Charles. The world is changing, and we’re changing with it. It’s not fair to either of us to keep holding on to something that might break us in the end.”

There was a long pause, the only sound between them the distant hum of the city. Charles squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the knot in his throat. He didn’t know how to do this, how to let go of the person who had been his constant, his strength.

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I don’t want to either,” Y/N replied, her tears finally spilling over. She wiped them away quickly, not wanting him to see her break. She wasn’t strong enough for this, not for him, not for them.

“Just because we have an expiry date in a few months doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy what’s left,” she said, her voice steady, though her heart was shattered. “We have the time we have, and we should make the most of it. We deserve that much.”

Charles nodded slowly, his heart heavy in his chest. “I want to make the most of it,” he whispered. “But I can’t promise what happens after.”

“I know,” Y/N said, her voice quiet but sure. “Neither can I.”

They sat there in silence for a long time, staring at the stars. Their fingers brushed together, a fleeting touch that felt like the last thread connecting them. Neither of them spoke again, but the weight of the conversation hung in the air between them. The future they had planned for so long was slipping away, and all they could do now was hold on to what they had left.

And as the night stretched on, they both silently wept, trying to be strong, trying to believe in the time they still had.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

taglist : @jenxjar @noam-rosier-icr @prttylight @gluecksbaerchieee

@janeh22 @tobucina @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @weekendlusting

@wisestarfishbouquet @ricciardosheart @leclercdream @sltwins

@vyctorya

[its-avalon-08]

Franco Colapinto, where his girlfriend gets jealous of his interviews, so she does everything to make him jealous in return

uno reverse amor (fc43)

✦ pairing - franco colapinto x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, jealousy, flirting, insecurity, fluff

It had started out innocently enough. Franco had always been friendly and warm, and Y/N knew that his charm was just part of who he was. But ever since he joined the F1 paddock, the charm had evolved into something more… public. Every race weekend, clips of Franco effortlessly flirting with reporters and crew members spread like wildfire, and fans ate it up, dubbing him the new “king of charm.”

Y/N, however, was less amused.

The first incident that had really gotten under her skin happened at the British Grand Prix. Franco was leaning against the car, chatting with a well-known reporter who was giggling at everything he said, twirling her hair as she asked him a question about the upcoming race.

“Oh, it’ll be intense,” he said with a grin, his gaze steady on her. “But, you know, I think it’s all about staying calm, keeping your focus. And enjoying the beautiful company, of course.”

The reporter laughed, blushing as Franco flashed her one of his trademark smiles. Y/N, watching from a few feet away, clenched her fists, biting back a glare. Did he really have to add that last part?

As if that wasn’t enough, the week after, during an interview at the Italian Grand Prix, he was asked a simple question about pre-race routines.

“Oh, I’ve got my little routines,” he said, winking at the interviewer, who had already melted halfway into her chair. “I like to get in the right headspace, maybe listen to some music… unless there’s someone interesting around to keep me company.”

The interviewer let out a flustered laugh, and Y/N’s jaw clenched. Really, Franco? “Someone interesting”? Her fingers itched to reach out and pull him away, but she forced herself to stay calm, her heart pounding with frustration.

Then, a few days later, she caught him doing it again—this time with a team member. He’d stopped mid-stride, turned to face her with that irresistible grin, and said, “You’re really making it hard for me to concentrate on the race with those eyes of yours.”

The team member had laughed, shaking her head, but Y/N was seething. How many times does he have to do this? She could feel herself growing annoyed every time she saw him so much as smirk at anyone else.

One evening after another long day at the track, she finally decided to confront him. They were back in his hotel room, and she paced around while Franco lay sprawled on the bed, oblivious.

"Franco," she began, crossing her arms. "You know… you’ve been getting a lot of attention lately.”

He raised an eyebrow, his face innocent. “Oh? From who?”

“From every journalist, reporter, and team member you’ve been flirting with,” she shot back, her voice laced with exasperation.

He laughed, rolling his eyes. “Amor, you know that’s just how I am. I’m just being friendly.”

“Friendly?” she repeated, scoffing. “You called a reporter ‘beautiful company’ and told a mechanic she had distracting eyes.”

He sat up, holding back a smile. “Are you jealous, mi amor?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “No, I’m annoyed that you’re flirting with every woman in sight, making me look like some jealous girlfriend who has to just… stand back and watch.”

Franco chuckled, getting up and pulling her close. “It’s all harmless, cariño. I only have eyes for you.” He leaned in, trying to soften her with a kiss, but Y/N just rolled her eyes, pushing him away.

“Harmless,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “We’ll see about that.”

time skip

The next day, Y/N was ready. She’d slipped into her best outfit, something just a bit more eye-catching than usual. Every detail was intentional: a hint of perfume he loved, her hair styled to perfection, and a glint in her eye that promised trouble.

Franco, as usual, seemed completely oblivious to the storm brewing beside him as they arrived at the paddock together. He greeted her with a casual arm around her waist, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before turning his attention to his mechanics, his team, and soon enough, the journalists. Y/N watched as he naturally fell into his routine, flashing that same boyish grin, laughing a little too freely, and leaning in just a little too close for her comfort.

This time, though, she didn’t sulk on the sidelines. She had her own plans.

“Hey, Ben!” she greeted one of the mechanics, letting her voice take on an extra warmth as she walked up to him with a bright smile. She didn’t have to try too hard—Ben was easy to talk to and always ready with a laugh. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, crossing her arms in a way that drew his attention.

“I was thinking,” she said, biting her lip thoughtfully, “you need to show me how you work your magic with these cars sometime. I bet it’s way more fun than it looks.”

Ben chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy grin. “Oh, you think so? Maybe I could give you a little behind-the-scenes tour sometime,” he offered, looking flattered.

“Only if you promise I’ll get the full VIP experience,” she replied, letting her fingers brush his arm as she laughed. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Franco’s head snap in their direction, his smile faltering as he caught sight of the interaction. Good. She was only just getting started.

The entire day passed in a blur of subtle flirtations—though maybe ‘subtle’ wasn’t the right word. She’d find reasons to linger a bit too long with various members of the team, sharing inside jokes and laughing louder than necessary. She even struck up a conversation with one of the other drivers, who was only too happy to entertain her with stories from his racing days. Every time, she made sure Franco was close enough to witness.

By the time evening rolled around, they’d all decided to celebrate at a nearby club. The music was loud, the lights dim, and the energy high, and Y/N knew it was the perfect place to turn things up a notch. She danced, her laughter bright and easy as she moved through the crowd, letting her hand graze against an arm here, a shoulder there, leaning in close to speak to anyone she deemed worth her attention.

Across the room, Franco was watching her like a hawk. His jaw was tight, and his eyes narrowed every time he saw her hand linger on someone else’s arm or caught her laughing too closely with another driver. She knew he was trying to keep his composure, but it was clear his patience was wearing thin.

Finally, she was in the middle of a conversation with one of Franco’s competitors, a tall, charming driver with an easy smile and a hand that rested just a little too comfortably on her lower back. The driver leaned in, whispering something that made her laugh, and she let herself rest a hand on his shoulder, her eyes flashing with mischief as she spoke.

Y/N was on a roll, and Franco was coming undone. Every time he thought she’d finally had her fun, she’d find someone else to charm with that same sweet laugh and teasing smile she usually reserved for him. And it was driving him crazy.

They’d only just walked back from the bar when she caught sight of one of the mechanics, a friendly guy named Luca. With a mischievous smile, Y/N waltzed over and struck up a conversation, playfully touching his shoulder as she leaned in to hear him over the music.

Really? Luca? Franco’s fists clenched, his jaw tight. He tried to focus on the drink in his hand, tried to keep his eyes anywhere but on her hand lingering on Luca’s arm. Does she really have to be that close to him? Does she have to laugh like that at whatever he's saying?

Luca was saying something that made her laugh again, and she leaned in, looking up at him with wide eyes and a soft smile that Franco knew all too well. Unbelievable, he thought, resisting the urge to march over and tell Luca that his services were absolutely not needed right now.

But it didn’t end there.

Later on, she’d wandered over to a group of drivers who were deep in conversation about the latest upgrades to their cars. Y/N approached them with that breezy confidence that only she could pull off, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she smiled at one of the drivers, giving him her full attention. He was explaining something technical, and Y/N was nodding intently, her hand resting on her hip as she tilted her head just slightly, the way she did when she was really focused on something.

Franco’s grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles white. That’s not how she usually listens to people, he fumed, watching as she laughed again, this time with a soft touch to the driver’s arm. Oh, come on. She doesn’t even care about car upgrades!

It felt like every glance, every laugh, every gentle touch of her hand was a little dagger aimed straight at his ego. He knew what she was doing, knew she was just trying to rile him up. And damn, it was working.

Then came the final straw. She’d been chatting with a young mechanic, one who’d recently joined the team and was clearly a little awestruck by her. Y/N was leaning close, whispering something that made the mechanic’s face go beet red, and she playfully nudged his shoulder, laughing as if they were sharing some secret joke.

Franco could feel his pulse hammering as he watched. Does she even realize what she’s doing? Or is this her plan all along? He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his cool. She’s supposed to be here with me, not… not making every other guy in the room feel like they’re the most important person here.

When she threw her head back in laughter, touching the mechanic’s forearm with just a little too much familiarity, Franco had had enough. Every inch of him was tense as he fought to keep himself from storming over there, from pulling her aside and making it very clear that she was his. She’s mine, he thought fiercely, barely restraining the urge to intervene. And she’s going to know it by the end of tonight.

The music pulsed through the club, and Y/N was in the middle of another conversation, this time with a driver she barely knew, when she felt a familiar hand wrap around her wrist. Franco’s grip was gentle but firm, his eyes burning with a mix of frustration and something else she hadn’t seen in a long time: pure, unfiltered jealousy.

“Amor,” he said through a tight smile, pulling her closer, his voice thick with intensity. “We’re leaving. Now.”

She blinked, biting back a grin as he guided her through the crowded room, his hand still wrapped around hers as he weaved them toward the exit. Once they were outside, in the cool night air, Franco turned to face her, his jaw set, eyes narrowed. His fingers brushed down her arm before he let go, clearly trying to gather his thoughts.

“Mind telling me what that was all about, mi amorcito?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper, though the tension was undeniable. “I spent the entire night watching you laugh with everyone but me. Dios mío, you were flirting with every man in sight.”

She lifted an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, really? And what about you, Franco?” she shot back, a smirk playing on her lips. “You’ve been winking and laughing and charming everyone in the paddock for weeks. I just thought I’d give you a taste of your own medicine.”

His eyes widened in realization, a flush creeping up his neck as he took a step closer, brushing his fingers along her arm again, gentler this time. “Ay, mi vida,” he said softly, his gaze softening, though he still looked frustrated. “It’s just part of the job. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. You should have told me.”

She laughed, but there was an edge to it. “I tried, Franco. But you didn’t even notice. So, I figured maybe you’d pay attention if I reminded you what it feels like.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly flustered. “You’re right, I wasn’t paying attention. But seeing you like that tonight? Talking to other men like I don’t even exist? It drove me loco, princesa. You know that, right?” His voice softened, filled with a hint of pleading. “No me hagas esto otra vez. I can’t handle it.”

Y/N grinned, but there was warmth in her eyes as she took his hand, squeezing it gently. “Now you know what I feel like, Franco. But… maybe you’re a little cuter when you’re jealous.” She leaned in, brushing a playful kiss on his cheek.

He let out a frustrated groan, pulling her close so their foreheads touched, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her waist. “Mentirosa,” he whispered, half-laughing as his frustration melted into affection. “You know you’re the only one I want, mi corazón.”

The tension between them softened into something familiar, something that was just theirs.

[its-avalon-08]

the paths we didn't take (cl16)

part1!

multipart story!

Summary : Years ago, Charles Leclerc and Y/N promised to let each other go—for his dreams, for her freedom. No calls, no texts, just memories they buried deep. But when fate reunites them in Monaco, old scars and unresolved feelings resurface. Some loves are unforgettable, but can they find their way back, or is it too late?

✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader

Chapter 1: "The Beginning of Us"

The Leclerc and Y/L/N families had always been close. Sunday barbecues, summer trips, and late-night dinners were traditions neither family ever missed. It was during one such Sunday afternoon, the sun high over the Monaco coastline, that eight-year-old Charles Leclerc turned to his best friend Y/N and grinned.

“You have ketchup on your nose, Y/N.”

Y/N scrunched her nose, trying to see it, which only made Charles laugh harder. “Stop laughing and tell me where!”

“Here.” He reached out, swiping her nose with his thumb, then smirked. “Actually, now it’s on your cheek too.”

“Charles!” she yelled, chasing him around the backyard while their parents laughed from the patio.

“They’re like an old married couple already,” Pascale Leclerc said, shaking her head fondly.

“Give them a few years,” Y/N’s mom replied, smirking. “I bet they’ll be inseparable.”

And they were. By the time they hit middle school, the teasing had only gotten worse. At every family gathering, there was always someone who couldn’t resist making a comment.

“Mon petit amour, can you pass the bread?” Charles teased during a family dinner one night.

Y/N’s cheeks turned crimson. “Don’t call me that!”

“What? It’s cute,” Charles said with a grin, handing her the bread.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not.”

“Are too,” Charles shot back, leaning closer, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.

Their parents just shook their heads, sharing knowing smiles.

By eighth grade, everyone’s suspicions were confirmed when Charles showed up at Y/N’s house with a bouquet of daisies and a sheepish grin.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“I, uh…” Charles scratched the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at her. “I wanted to ask if… you know… you’d maybe want to go out with me?”

Y/N blinked. “Charles, we’re fourteen. Where are you even planning to take me?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, cheeks flushing. “But I just… I like you, okay? And I thought maybe you’d like me too.”

Y/N’s lips twitched, fighting back a smile. “You’re an idiot.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, it’s a yes,” she laughed, pulling him into a hug.

From that day on, Charles and Y/N were inseparable. They were that couple—the one everyone envied but couldn’t help rooting for. Charles would show up to her soccer games, cheering louder than anyone else.

“Allez, Y/N!” he’d yell, jumping up and down. “That’s my girlfriend!”

“Shut up, Charles!” she’d shout from the field, though she couldn’t help smiling.

And in return, Y/N was always there for him. Through karting wins and heartbreaking losses, she was his rock.

“You’re going to be great,” she whispered after a particularly tough race when Charles came in second.

“I let everyone down,” he mumbled, staring at the floor of the garage.

“You didn’t let me down,” she said softly, taking his face in her hands. “And you never could. Second place today means first place tomorrow.”

He smiled then, leaning into her touch. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she teased, making him laugh.

By senior year, they’d been together for nearly five years. Everyone said they were a match made in heaven.

“Remember when we were kids, and I said you’d marry me one day?” Charles teased one night as they sat on the roof of his house, looking out at the glittering lights of Monaco.

Y/N snorted. “You also said you’d grow a full beard by now, but look how that turned out.”

“Hey! It’s coming in… slowly.”

She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She sighed, closing her eyes. “Yeah, I do char.”

And in that moment, it felt like they had all the time in the world. They didn’t know then how quickly everything would change.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

taglist : @jenxjar @noam-rosier-icr @prttylight @gluecksbaerchieee

@janeh22 @tobucina @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @weekendlusting

[its-avalon-08]

NEW SERIES ALERT!

"the paths we didn't take" - a charles leclerc x female!reader story

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

years ago, charles leclerc and y/n were everything to each other—the kind of love that felt unbreakable, the kind you never see coming but never think will end. but they made a promise, one that broke both their hearts. after high school, they would let each other go. charles had his dreams of racing, and y/n had a world to explore, and they agreed it wasn’t fair to hold each other back.

so they did it. they cut all ties, erased each other from their lives, and tried to move on. no calls, no texts, not even a glance at an old photo. they built separate lives, pretending that what they had was just a chapter—until now.

when a chance meeting brings them back together in the streets of monaco, the weight of everything unsaid crashes down. the years have changed them, but some feelings are impossible to forget. can they face the pain of the choices they made, or are some loves meant to stay lost?

and finally the question remains, can you ever truly let go of your first love?

comment to get added to taglist!

[its-avalon-08]

can you write for max or carlos a fic where the reader is a billionaire and max or carlos is just a normal person with a 9-5 except that they don’t know reader is rich until she leaves her bank account open on her laptop or something similar? ❤️

money money money must be funny (cs55)

✦ pairing - carlos sainz x female!reader

✦ genre - carlos!not a driver, romance

Carlos Sainz wasn’t the type to snoop. He respected Y/N’s space—her home, her things, her boundaries. But today, as he casually walked into her apartment after work to wait for her, something caught his eye. Her laptop was on the kitchen counter, lid slightly ajar, and the screen had gone dark, but the faint hum of the device meant it was still on.

He didn’t mean to look. He really didn’t. But as he reached over to close it, a notification pinged, revealing her bank account summary. The number on the screen wasn’t just large—it was staggering. It looked more like a jackpot figure than an average person’s savings account.

Carlos froze. His thoughts swirled like a whirlwind. Was this even real? Had she won the lottery? Was Y/N secretly a crypto genius?

A loud buzz from his phone brought him back to reality—Y/N had texted that she’d be back in an hour. His first instinct was to laugh it off. She was probably just babysitting some wealthy CEO’s account or something. But the more he thought about it, the more the pieces started to fit.

That expensive bag she’d said was “on sale”? The first-edition watch she gave him for his birthday? And the sleek new car she drove, claiming it was a "company lease"?

He shut the laptop and paced around the apartment, fighting the urge to overthink. Why hadn’t she told him? Did she not trust him? Was she afraid of how he’d react?

When Y/N walked in, all smiles and carrying takeout, Carlos decided to play it cool.

“Hey, cariño,” she greeted, setting the bags down on the counter. “Hope you weren’t bored waiting for me.”

“Not at all,” he said, forcing a smile. “How was your day?”

“The usual. Meetings, emails, surviving on coffee. Yours?”

Carlos shrugged. “Not bad. I ran into something interesting, though.”

“Oh?” she asked, unpacking the food.

“Yeah,” he said nonchalantly, leaning against the counter. “I was browsing online earlier. You know, just random stuff. Came across this site that sells luxury bags. That brand you have—you said it was on sale, right?”

Y/N’s hands froze for a millisecond before she quickly recovered. “Uh, yeah. Got lucky, I guess. Why?”

Carlos tilted his head, pretending to think. “Just curious. Even on sale, they’re pretty pricey. Like… really pricey.”

She chuckled nervously. “Well, it was a one-time splurge. A treat-yourself moment.”

“Hmm,” he said, letting it drop—for now.

Later, while they were eating, he casually gestured to his watch. “You know, my coworkers keep asking me where I got this. I mean, it’s not every day you see something like this.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly. “Really? Well, you deserve nice things.”

“True,” he said with a small smirk. “But I don’t think I could ever afford something like this on my own.”

She looked down at her food, her fork hovering mid-air. “Carlos, I—”

“You know,” he interrupted, trying to sound playful, “you never told me how you got it. Or that car. Or… well, a lot of things, actually.”

Y/N’s eyes darted up to meet his. “What are you trying to say?”

Carlos leaned back, giving her a pointed look. “Nothing. Just making conversation.”

She laughed nervously, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, I guess I’m just good at finding deals.”

“Right,” he said, dragging out the word. “Must be a talent of yours.”

The rest of the evening passed in a strange tension. Carlos didn’t push further, but the weight of unspoken questions lingered between them. Every now and then, he’d make an offhand comment—about the high-tech gadgets in her apartment or the exclusive restaurants she “managed to snag reservations for.”

By the time Y/N excused herself to shower, Carlos was left alone with his thoughts again. He wasn’t angry, not really. But he was confused. Why hide something like this? Did she think he’d judge her?

As the sound of running water filled the apartment, Carlos sat on the couch, staring at his watch. He traced the edges of it with his thumb, his mind racing.

He loved her—he truly did. But for the first time since they’d been together, he wasn’t sure he fully knew her.

--

Carlos’s birthday started like any other day—quiet, unassuming, and, as far as he was concerned, just another regular weekday. But when he walked into Y/N’s apartment that evening, he realized how wrong he’d been.

The entire living room was transformed. Gold and black balloons floated in clusters, streamers lined the walls, and a massive “Happy Birthday, Carlos” banner stretched across the ceiling. The dining table was set with a feast fit for a Michelin-starred restaurant—complete with candles, a perfectly plated cake, and his favorite wine.

“You did all this?” Carlos asked, his eyes wide as he took it all in.

Y/N emerged from the kitchen, beaming, wearing a sleek dress that looked straight out of a fashion magazine. “Surprise!”

Carlos couldn’t help but smile. “You didn’t have to go this far, cariño.”

“Of course, I did,” she said, walking over to him and planting a kiss on his cheek. “You deserve the best.”

He took a deep breath, overwhelmed by the effort she’d gone to. But the gifts sitting on the table caught his attention—each one wrapped immaculately in expensive-looking paper.

“Are those… all for me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She grinned. “Open them and see.”

He started unwrapping them one by one. First, a designer leather jacket. Then, a limited-edition pair of sneakers he’d mentioned in passing months ago. And finally, a watch—sleek, elegant, and undoubtedly expensive.

Carlos held it up, speechless. “Y/N… this is—”

“Do you like it?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

“Like it?” he said, shaking his head. “This must’ve cost a fortune.”

“It’s worth it,” she said softly. “You’re worth it.”

Carlos pulled her into a hug, his mind racing. As they swayed gently, his voice was low but teasing. “You know, between the jacket, the sneakers, and this watch… you’re starting to spoil me. I might get used to it.”

She laughed nervously, her face buried in his chest. “Well, it’s your birthday. You deserve to be spoiled.”

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands still resting on her waist. “Y/N,” he said, his tone light but inquisitive, “how do you afford all this? I mean, between the car, the gifts, and—well, everything. It doesn’t exactly scream ‘9-to-5.’”

Her smile faltered for a second. “I… budget well,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

Carlos tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly but still kind. “Budget well? You’re buying things most people would save for years to afford. That’s some serious budgeting.”

“I just… know how to find deals,” she said quickly.

“Deals, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Like the kind that let you buy a car worth more than most people’s houses?”

Her laugh was more forced this time. “Carlos, come on, it’s not like that.”

He didn’t push, not yet. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her again, holding her close. “You know,” he said softly, his chin resting on her head, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About how generous you are. How thoughtful. How you somehow always manage to outdo yourself.”

“That’s just because I love you,” she murmured.

“And I love you too,” he said, his voice warm. “But you don’t have to go overboard, you know. I’d still love you if you didn’t get me a watch that probably costs more than my rent.”

She tensed slightly in his arms, and he felt it.

“It’s just…” he continued, his tone deliberately casual, “I can’t help but wonder. You must have some serious savings to pull all this off.”

“Well, I—”

“Or maybe,” he said, a hint of playfulness in his voice, “you’re secretly a illionaire.”

Relaxed she went, “Yeah, exactly.”

The words slipped out before she could stop them. Her body went rigid, and she immediately pulled back, her eyes wide with panic. “I mean—wait—no—”

Carlos’s brows shot up. “Oh.”

“Carlos, I didn’t mean—”

“Y/N,” he said gently, placing his hands on her shoulders. “It’s okay. Just… take a deep breath.”

She did, her hands trembling slightly. “I-I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”

“So it’s true?” he asked softly. “You’re… rich?”

She hesitated, then nodded, her eyes brimming with uncertainty. “Yes. But it’s not like you think. I didn’t want it to change how you see me.”

Carlos’s expression softened. “Cariño, why would it change how I see you?”

“Because… people treat me differently when they know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I wanted you to love me for me, not for my money.”

He cupped her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. “Y/N, I fell in love with the woman who makes me laugh until my stomach hurts. The one who listens to me ramble about football and surprises me with my favorite snacks. Not the size of your bank account.”

Her eyes searched his, still uncertain. “You’re not mad?”

“I’m not mad,” he assured her. “A little surprised, sure. Maybe a bit hurt you didn’t tell me sooner. But I get it.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “I should’ve told you.”

He smiled, pulling her back into his arms. “Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“No more pretending your gifts are ‘on sale.’ You’re a terrible liar.”

She laughed, the tension finally breaking. “Deal.”

--

The living room was bathed in a warm, golden glow from the lamps as Carlos and Y/N cuddled on the couch. Her head rested against his chest, and his arm was wrapped securely around her shoulders. The cake sat half-eaten on the coffee table, alongside empty plates and glasses.

Carlos pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his voice soft as he broke the comfortable silence. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Y/N murmured, tracing patterns on his shirt with her fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, his tone gentle but curious. “About… everything?”

Y/N stiffened slightly in his arms but relaxed when he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. She sighed, her breath warm against his chest.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” she began quietly. “I just… I’ve had bad experiences before.”

Carlos frowned, his hand moving in soothing circles on her back. “What kind of experiences?”

She pulled back slightly to look at him, her eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and sadness. “People have used me for my money, Carlos. Pretended to care about me just because they wanted access to my lifestyle, my connections. It’s happened more times than I’d like to admit.”

Carlos’s expression softened, his heart aching for her. “Y/N…”

“It’s not just romantic relationships,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “Friends, too. People I thought I could trust would suddenly start asking for favors, for loans they never intended to repay. Or they’d make comments, subtle digs, like I didn’t deserve what I had because I was born into it.”

Carlos tightened his hold on her, resting his chin on her head. “I’m so sorry you went through that. You didn’t deserve it.”

“I started to feel like no one saw me, you know?” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “It was always about what I could give them, not who I was. So, when I met you, I just… I didn’t want to risk it. I didn’t want you to see me differently.”

Carlos was silent for a moment, his thoughts swirling. Finally, he tilted her chin up so she could meet his eyes. “Y/N, I’m not those people. I don’t care about your money, or what you can buy, or any of that. I care about you. The person who makes me laugh, who’s always there for me, who’s just… you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she gave him a small, shaky smile. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

He wiped away a stray tear with his thumb, his gaze unwavering. “I know it’s hard, letting someone in. But I want you to know, you don’t have to hide anything from me. Okay?”

She nodded, her smile growing a little stronger. “Okay.”

Carlos leaned down and kissed her gently, pouring all his love and reassurance into the moment. When they pulled apart, he gave her a teasing grin.

“Although, I do have to say, I feel a little cheated. All this time, I’ve been paying for dinner when you could’ve been spoiling me instead.”

Y/N burst out laughing, swatting his chest. “Oh, so now you want to be spoiled?”

He chuckled, pulling her closer. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to the occasional fancy dinner. But honestly? I’d take ramen with you on the couch over anything else.”

She smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude and love. “You’re too good to be true, Carlos.”

He kissed her forehead, his voice soft. “So are you, cariño. So are you.”

[its-avalon-08]

Omg you recent lando fic has me smiling like crazy no joke.

I was hoping I could request something similar ish. Where reader is Max.V. Sister and Lando wants it to be secre, bu the reade thinks he only wants to keep it secret because he's going to break up with her soon. (Dating for a while), and when the reader tells Carlos this, he tells Lando, who decides to let the whole world know by running up to her and kissing her just before the race.

secrets and shushed voices (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort

The buzz of conversation in the Red Bull hospitality was overwhelming, but Y/N Verstappen had mastered the art of tuning it out. She adjusted her team polo, flipping through her notes for Max's debrief, when she felt a presence near her. Without looking up, she muttered, “Unless you have coffee for me, I’m not interested.”

A soft chuckle answered her. “What if I said I could charm you into being interested?”

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing at the source. Lando Norris leaned casually against the table, his grin infuriatingly perfect.

“Charm me?” she repeated with a raised eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume that’s possible.”

“Bold is my middle name,” he shot back, undeterred.

“Funny,” she quipped, turning back to her notes. “I thought it was ‘Overtakes on Softs.’”

His laugh was genuine, and she hated that it made her chest flutter. “Touché, Verstappen. Touché.”

Over the next few months, their paths crossed often—media days, driver briefings, paddock run-ins. Lando made it his mission to tease her relentlessly, and to her dismay, she found herself looking forward to it.

One afternoon, she’d been ranting about how Max ignored her race notes.

“I bet he ignores them because you write, like, an essay for every corner,” Lando teased, plopping down beside her in the lounge.

“You’ve never even seen my notes!”

“I don’t need to. You scream ‘overachiever.’”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her grin. “And you scream ‘class clown.’”

“Ah, but clowns are memorable.”

“Annoying, more like.”

“Annoyingly charming,” he corrected with a wink, making her laugh despite herself.

--

Their playful banter became a staple in the paddock, much to the amusement of their teams. Max often shot her knowing looks, while Carlos liked to poke Lando with, “Mate, just ask her out already.”

But Lando enjoyed the chase. Every lingering glance, every sarcastic comment, every moment they shared—it all felt electric.

One night after a particularly chaotic post-race party, they found themselves on a quiet balcony overlooking the marina.

“You’re surprisingly tolerable when you’re not trying to be funny,” Y/N remarked, leaning against the railing.

“And you’re surprisingly fun when you’re not intimidating,” Lando countered, nudging her playfully.

She looked at him, the usual walls in her eyes softening. “You don’t actually think I’m intimidating, do you?”

“Only in the best way,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You’re... different, Y/N. In a good way.”

Her breath hitched slightly, but she covered it with a smirk. “You’re such a flirt, Norris.”

“Only with you.”

--

It was after a rainy qualifying in Silverstone when everything changed. Y/N had stayed late in the garage, waiting for Max, when Lando appeared, soaked and grinning.

“What are you still doing here?” she asked, handing him a towel.

“Trying to decide if I should do something really stupid,” he said, his voice unusually serious.

“What kind of stupid?”

“This kind.”

Before she could process his words, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers softly. The world seemed to blur as she kissed him back, a hundred unspoken moments between them finally falling into place.

--

Dating Lando was like stepping into a secret world. Behind closed doors, he was thoughtful, goofy, and overwhelmingly sweet. But in the paddock, he insisted they keep their relationship under wraps.

“It’s not that I’m ashamed,” he’d said one evening, his hand brushing her hair back as they lounged on the couch. “I just want us to have this—our thing—without the world tearing it apart.”

She had nodded, understanding his reasoning, but over time, doubt began to creep in. What if he wasn’t ready to commit? What if this secrecy was his way of keeping an exit strategy?

As Lando hugged her tightly after another stolen moment in the shadows of the McLaren motorhome, her thoughts spiraled.

He’s holding on so tight, but for how long? Am I just a phase he’s going to grow out of?

His voice broke through her haze. “You okay?”

She forced a smile, burying her face in his shoulder. “Yeah. Just tired.”

But as he held her, all she could think was, How much longer until he decides to let go?

--

Y/N sat in the McLaren hospitality, her hands gripping a lukewarm cup of tea she wasn’t drinking. She’d just watched Lando breeze past her in the paddock—no glance, no smile, not even a quick touch on the arm. He’d turned the charm on for the cameras as if she didn’t exist, leaving her to stew in the weight of their secrecy.

She set the cup down with a loud clink and stormed out. A short walk later, she was in the Ferrari hospitality, where Carlos and Rebecca sat chatting.

“Carlos,” she blurted, her voice trembling. “He’s going to break up with me.”

Carlos frowned, sitting up straighter. “¿Qué? Who’s breaking up with you?”

“Lando!” she exclaimed, collapsing onto the couch beside Rebecca, her emotions spilling over. “He doesn’t want this anymore—I know it!”

Rebecca placed a calming hand on Y/N’s knee. “Slow down, cariño. What happened?”

Y/N sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. “It’s everything. He didn’t even look at me this morning. No hug, no kiss. Nothing. He just… walked past me like I wasn’t even there. And it’s not just today—it’s been months of hiding. He insists on keeping this a secret. I thought it was romantic at first, like we had something private, but now—” Her voice cracked as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Now you think it’s because he’s trying to find an easy way out,” Carlos finished, his tone heavy with disapproval.

Y/N nodded, sobbing into her hands. “He says it’s to protect us, but I don’t feel protected, Carlos. I feel like I’m not good enough for him to want people to know.”

Rebecca pulled Y/N into a hug, rubbing her back soothingly. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re more than good enough. If anything, it’s him who’s too blind to see what he’s doing to you.”

Carlos crossed his arms, his brow furrowed in thought. “Has he given you any reason to believe he doesn’t care about you anymore? Other than the secrecy?”

Y/N hesitated, her voice muffled against Rebecca’s shoulder. “It’s all the little things. He’s so different when we’re alone—he’s kind and loving and makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world. But the second we step into the paddock, it’s like I don’t exist. I just… I can’t do this anymore.”

Carlos’s face hardened, his protective side kicking in. “He needs to hear this, Y/N. But not from you—no, not while you’re like this.” He stood abruptly. “I’ll talk to him.”

“No!” Y/N sat up, her eyes wide. “You’ll just make things worse!”

“I won’t,” Carlos said firmly. “But he’s my friend, and I’m not going to sit here and watch him break your heart because he’s too much of an idiot to see what he’s doing. He needs a reality check.”

Rebecca nodded in agreement. “Carlos is right. He knows Lando better than anyone—you should let him handle it.”

Y/N sniffled again, her resolve softening under Rebecca’s calming presence. “You’re sure you won’t tell him I sent you?”

Carlos crouched in front of her, his expression softer now. “I’ll make it about what I’ve noticed. He’ll never know you said anything.”

Y/N nodded reluctantly. “Okay.”

Rebecca gave Y/N a comforting squeeze before Carlos kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll fix this, amiga. Trust me.”

As Carlos left, Y/N leaned into Rebecca’s side, her tears slowing but her heart still heavy. “What if he really does want to break up with me?”

Rebecca stroked her hair gently. “Then he’s the biggest fool on the planet, and we’ll make sure he knows it.”

--

Carlos leaned back in his chair in the McLaren hospitality, casually sipping on a bottle of water as Lando scrolled through his phone. They had been talking about summer break plans, with Lando suggesting a group trip to Ibiza.

“Ibiza would be fun,” Carlos said, setting his bottle down. “But only if you bring your girlfriend.”

Lando choked slightly, quickly glancing around to see if anyone overheard. “Shh, man!” he hissed, leaning closer. “What if someone hears you?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “This is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Lando frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

Carlos straightened, his tone turning serious. “Y/N came to see me today. She’s convinced you’re going to break up with her.”

“What?!” Lando’s voice rose before he quickly lowered it, glancing around again. “Why would she think that?”

“Because, mate, you’re treating her like some big secret, like she’s something you’re ashamed of,” Carlos said bluntly. “Every time you refuse to acknowledge her in public, every time you say no to posting a picture or holding her hand, she feels like she’s not enough for you.”

Lando’s face paled, his phone slipping from his hand. “That’s not… I don’t—” He stopped, his mind racing. “I’ve never said I’m ashamed of her. I thought she understood why I wanted to keep it private.”

Carlos leaned forward, his eyes hard. “She might have understood at first, but it’s been ten months, Lando. She’s tired. And frankly, I don’t blame her.”

Lando opened his mouth to argue but stopped as Carlos’s words sank in. His mind spiraled into a series of flashbacks.

-flashback-

He remembered the first time she’d asked if she could post a picture of them on her story. It was a harmless shot—just their intertwined hands on a table.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he’d said quickly. “You know how people can be.”

Her smile faltered, but she nodded. “Yeah. I get it.”

-flashback-

After a race in Monaco, Y/N had waited for him by the McLaren motorhome. When she tried to hug him, he’d gently pushed her into the shadows.

“Not here,” he’d whispered, glancing around nervously.

Her shoulders had slumped, and she took a step back. “Right. Sorry.”

-flashback-

At a post-race party, Rebecca had taken a picture of them laughing together. Y/N had been so happy, showing it to him with a hopeful smile.

“Becca sent this to me. Can I share it?”

Lando had hesitated. “Maybe not. It’s just… better if we keep it private.”

The light in her eyes had dimmed, though she tried to mask it with a nod. “Okay.”

present day

Lando’s chest tightened as the memories hit him. He hadn’t realized how often he’d dismissed her feelings or how much his need for secrecy had chipped away at her confidence.

“She thinks I want to break up with her?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos nodded, his expression softening. “She’s scared, Lando. She loves you, but she’s scared that you don’t feel the same way.”

Lando ran a hand through his hair, his heart aching. “I’m such an idiot.”

Carlos smirked faintly. “You said it, not me.”

Lando ignored the jab, his mind already working. He couldn’t let her think he didn’t care. He couldn’t let her feel like she wasn’t enough.

“I need to fix this,” he said firmly, standing up so fast that his chair scraped against the floor.

Carlos leaned back with a satisfied grin. “About time.”

Lando’s mind raced with ideas, his determination growing. He’d spent months hiding their relationship from the world—now, he’d show everyone exactly how much she meant to him.

--

The pre-race chaos was in full swing. Mechanics bustled about, drivers made their final rounds with engineers, and the paddock buzzed with energy. Y/N stood to the side near the McLaren garage, watching quietly as Lando spoke with his team. Her arms were crossed, her heart heavy from the morning’s events.

She had seen him arrive, head down, moving past her like she didn’t exist. Again. The weight of the past few months pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Rebecca’s words from earlier played in her head: “If he doesn’t see what he’s doing to you, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

Maybe he doesn’t.

Suddenly, she noticed Carlos walking toward Lando, giving him a nudge and pointing in her direction. Lando froze, his head snapping up. Their eyes met briefly before Y/N turned away, unable to handle the hurt.

But before she could step back into the crowd, she heard his voice calling her name.

“Y/N!”

Her heart jumped. She turned to see Lando jogging toward her, his race suit partially unzipped and flapping as he moved. She frowned, confused. What is he doing?

As he reached her, he stopped, slightly out of breath. “I need to talk to you.”

“Now? You’re about to race,” she said, her tone wary.

“Now,” he insisted, his blue eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach flip. “I’ve been an idiot, and I need to fix this.”

“Lando, what are you—”

He didn’t let her finish. Instead, he stepped forward, cupping her face gently with his hands. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m so sorry for making you feel like you’re not enough, for hiding what we have, for… everything.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Lando…”

“I was scared,” he admitted, his forehead resting against hers. “Not of being with you, but of the world ruining what we have. I thought I was protecting us, but all I did was hurt you, and I hate myself for it.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” she whispered.

His eyes widened in shock. “No. God, no. I want you, Y/N. I love you. I’ve loved you since the day we met, and I’m done pretending I don’t.”

Before she could process his words, he pulled her into a kiss—deep and unapologetic, right there in the middle of the paddock.

The world around them seemed to pause. For a moment, there was only him—his lips on hers, his arms wrapped tightly around her, as if he was afraid to let go.

When they finally broke apart, she noticed the stunned silence around them. Cameras clicked furiously, and the hum of murmured voices grew louder.

“Lando…” she started, her cheeks flushed.

He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Let them talk. I don’t care anymore.”

“But the team, the media—”

“Let them say what they want,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “I’m not hiding you anymore, Y/N. You’re my girlfriend, and the whole damn world is going to know it.”

Y/N stared at him, her heart pounding. His words, his actions—it was all so overwhelming.

“Say something,” he said nervously, his grin faltering.

She threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

Cheers erupted around them, and Carlos’s loud, teasing whistle cut through the noise. “¡Eso es, chico! About time!”

Lando laughed, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You good now?”

Y/N nodded, her tears finally spilling over—but this time, they were happy ones. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Good,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Because I’m not going anywhere, and I’m making sure everyone knows it.”

She smiled through her tears, and he kissed her again, sealing the promise with every ounce of love he felt.

[its-avalon-08]

Hello, could you write a story about Franco Colapinto where he’s maybe super jealous/protective of her, something like that?

baby you're safe (fc43)

✦ pairing - franco colapinto x female!reader

✦ genre - protective franco, abusive family, tears, angst, fluff, flinching

The rain drizzled gently outside as Y/N sat on the plush couch in the corner of her shared apartment with Franco Colapinto. The soft hum of an old playlist filled the air, but her thoughts were louder. Franco was due home any minute, and she was dreading the conversation they needed to have.

Their relationship had always been a haven for her—a stark contrast to the chaotic and abusive environment she grew up in. Franco knew every corner of her past, from the shouting matches she endured to the nights she cried herself to sleep. He’d made it his mission to be her protector, her fiercest ally.

--

The sun was beating down on the bustling paddock as Y/N stood near Franco’s garage, chatting with a few team members. She had gotten used to the constant hum of engines and the organized chaos that came with race weekends. However, today, something felt...off.

"Y/N, you’re a lot prettier up close than I expected," one of the mechanics said, his tone dripping with something she couldn’t quite place but didn’t like.

She forced a polite smile, trying to shift the conversation back to something neutral. “Thanks. So, do you think Franco’s car will be good to go for qualifying?”

“Oh, it’ll be perfect,” the mechanic replied, leaning in slightly. “But speaking of perfect, maybe we could grab a drink later? I’m sure Franco wouldn’t mind sharing you for a little while.”

Her stomach churned, and she stepped back, forcing a laugh. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

From across the garage, Franco had been keeping an eye on her, as he always did. When he saw the mechanic lean in, his jaw tightened. Then he noticed Y/N’s uneasy smile, and that was it.

Without a second thought, Franco stalked over, his boots thudding against the asphalt. His eyes were locked on the mechanic, but his hand reached out for Y/N, gently pulling her to him.

“Problem here?” Franco’s voice was low, laced with tension.

The mechanic looked startled but recovered quickly, smirking. “Nah, just getting to know Y/N. Didn’t mean to step on any toes.”

“You didn’t step on toes,” Franco said, his eyes narrowing. “But you’re about two seconds away from stepping on my patience. She’s mine.”

“Franco—” Y/N started, but he silenced her by gently tugging her closer.

The mechanic raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, man. Didn’t mean any harm.”

“Good,” Franco said, his tone sharp as a blade. But he wasn’t done.

Turning to Y/N, his intense gaze softened just slightly. “Come here,” he muttered, his voice low and commanding.

Before she could process what was happening, Franco cupped her face and kissed her, pressing her back gently against the stack of tires behind her. The world around them disappeared, the hum of the paddock fading into nothing. His lips moved against hers with a fierce protectiveness, like he was staking his claim for the entire paddock to see.

Y/N’s hands instinctively gripped his shirt, her cheeks burning as her heart raced. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his breath warm and heavy.

“You okay?” he whispered, his voice softer now, his thumb brushing her cheek.

She nodded, utterly breathless. “Yeah. Just...a little dizzy.”

His lips curved into a small, smug smile. “Good. That’s how I want you to feel every time I kiss you.”

“Franco,” she hissed, her cheeks flaming as she glanced around, noting the curious eyes of a few team members.

He didn’t care. Turning back to the mechanic, he shot him a pointed look. “If I see you so much as glance at her again, we’re going to have a bigger problem than your attitude. Got it?”

The mechanic mumbled an apology and quickly walked away, leaving the two of them alone by the tires.

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “You’re so dramatic.”

Franco chuckled, pulling her hands away and kissing her knuckles. “Maybe. But no one hits on my girl.”

“Your girl?” she teased, though her heart swelled at his words.

“My girl,” he repeated firmly, leaning in to kiss her again, softer this time. “And don’t you forget it.”

She sighed, shaking her head but smiling nonetheless. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” he replied with a wink, taking her hand and leading her back toward the garage.

As they walked away, Y/N couldn’t help but think that maybe his overprotectiveness wasn’t so bad after all.

--

The small apartment they shared after the race weekend was quiet, but the tension between Franco and Y/N was palpable. The sun was setting, casting a soft glow through the windows, but it felt like their frustration was taking over the space. The argument had started over something as trivial as not putting the plates away after dinner, but it had escalated into something bigger, fueled by exhaustion and mounting stress.

“I told you to put the damn plates away,” Franco said, running a hand through his messy hair in frustration. “How hard is it to just finish something, Y/N? It’s not that difficult.”

Y/N stood near the counter, her arms crossed tightly, her mind racing. “I was getting to it, Franco,” she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. “I don’t need you to remind me. I’ve got other things going on too.”

Franco let out a tired sigh, rubbing his temples. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, but we’ve been through this before. It’s a simple thing. Why does it feel like everything I say to you gets brushed off?”

“It’s just plates, Franco,” Y/N muttered, exasperated. “Not everything has to be a lecture. I didn’t mean to leave them out.”

Franco’s jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin. “I’m not asking for much. I just want things to be—”

He raised his hand to scratch his head, the motion so simple, so habitual, but the second his hand moved toward his face, Y/N froze. A sharp, unexpected flashback hit her like a wave, her breath catching in her throat. She saw her father’s angry hand, raised high in a threatening gesture, and heard the harsh words that followed it.

Her body reacted before her mind could fully process the moment. She flinched violently, instinctively stepping back, her heart racing in panic. The room seemed to shrink around her, her chest tightening, and she could feel her breath becoming shallow.

Franco’s eyes widened in shock as he saw her reaction. “Y/N?” His voice was laced with concern, but there was a thread of confusion in it too. He hadn’t even come close to touching her, but he could see the way she was trembling, the way she had pulled away.

“I... I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her eyes fixed on the ground. “I didn’t mean to. I just... I thought...” She couldn’t even finish her sentence, the rush of fear and shame overwhelming her.

Franco’s heart sank. His stomach dropped as he realized what had happened. He immediately dropped his hand, his face softening with realization and guilt.

“Y/N...” he said, his voice breaking. He slowly stepped closer, cautiously, afraid to overwhelm her. “Hey, look at me. Please, look at me.”

She shook her head, trying to push the image of her father out of her mind, but it was hard. The fear still lingered, her body still stiff with anxiety.

Franco’s heart shattered as he gently cupped her face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to form in her eyes. “I would never hurt you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Never. I’m not him. I would never do that to you.”

She blinked, her chest heaving with deep breaths as she processed his words. She knew he wasn’t like him—she knew that—but the reaction had been so ingrained in her, so automatic from years of living with the threat of violence.

“I didn’t mean to...” Y/N whispered again, her voice raw, tears falling freely now. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I know you would never hurt me.”

Franco wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb, his expression soft but filled with immense sorrow. “I never want you to feel scared of me,” he said, his voice full of regret. “I’m so sorry if I made you feel like that for even a second. You’re safe with me, always. I will never, ever raise my hand to you. You’re everything to me.”

She finally met his eyes, her heart aching as she saw the pain in his gaze. “I know. I just... sometimes the past feels so close. It’s hard to shake it.”

Franco pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face in her hair. “I don’t want to remind you of anything from your past, Y/N. I just want you to feel loved. And safe. And I’ll do anything to make sure you feel that way.”

She closed her eyes, letting herself lean into him. “I’m sorry I overreacted,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his chest. “I just get so scared sometimes.”

Franco kissed the top of her head gently, squeezing her tightly. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re not alone in this.”

After a few moments of silence, Y/N pulled back slightly, her fingers gently tracing his jawline. “I’m really tired, Franco,” she admitted, her voice soft and vulnerable. “I don’t even know why we’re fighting over plates.”

Franco smiled sadly, brushing his thumb across her lips. “We’re both exhausted. Let’s just forget about the plates. I don’t care about that. I care about you.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes softening as she reached up to touch his cheek. “Me too. I’m sorry I snapped. It’s just... it’s been a long weekend.”

“I get it,” Franco said with a quiet sigh. “We’ve both been under a lot of stress. But we’ll be okay. We just need to take care of each other, okay?”

She smiled weakly, feeling the warmth of his embrace settle over her. “Okay.”

And in that moment, even though the argument had been small and silly, they both knew they’d have to work through the bigger things too. But for now, they were together, and that was enough to make everything feel a little bit better.

--

The paddock was alive with energy, fans crowding near the barriers to catch a glimpse of their favorite drivers. Y/N was walking hand-in-hand with Franco, the noise around them blending into an indistinct hum. She had grown used to the excitement of race weekends but still found herself slightly overwhelmed by the sheer number of people.

As they passed by a cluster of fans, a girl lunged forward to get Franco’s attention, accidentally bumping into Y/N and causing her to stumble slightly.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” the fan exclaimed, her face flushing red as she stepped back, hands raised. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” Y/N said quickly, brushing herself off with a smile. “Really, it’s no big deal.”

But Franco’s reaction was anything but calm. He immediately stepped in front of Y/N, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped, his voice sharp and loud enough to draw attention. “Do you not see her standing there? Be more careful!”

The fan’s eyes widened, and she looked genuinely distressed. “I didn’t mean to—”

“She said she’s fine,” Franco cut her off, his tone still harsh. “But maybe next time, watch where you’re going.”

“Franco,” Y/N said, tugging at his arm. “That’s enough. Let it go.”

“She could’ve hurt you,” he insisted, his protective glare fixed on the fan, who was now on the verge of tears.

“Franco,” Y/N said firmly, stepping around him. “She apologized. It was an accident. Let’s just go.”

But he wasn’t done. “Accident or not, people need to learn to respect boundaries—”

“That’s enough!” Y/N snapped, her voice cutting through his.

The crowd had started to notice the commotion, and Y/N could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed away, leaving Franco standing there, stunned.

He quickly followed her, catching up as they entered a quieter area near the garages.

“Y/N, wait!” he called out, grabbing her arm gently to stop her.

She spun around, her eyes blazing. “What is wrong with you? She didn’t mean to push me, Franco! Why did you have to make a scene?”

“I’m not going to let anyone treat you like you don’t matter!” he shot back, his voice rising.

“She wasn’t treating me like I don’t matter! She made a mistake, and she apologized! You embarrassed her—and me—in front of everyone!”

“I don’t care about them!” Franco yelled, running a hand through his hair. “I care about you!”

“You care so much that you’re smothering me!” Y/N snapped, her voice trembling with frustration. “You act like I can’t handle anything on my own!”

Franco opened his mouth to respond but then stopped, his shoulders sagging. His face softened, and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet and shaky.

“I just want to protect you,” he said, his words breaking as they came out. “I wasn’t there when you were a kid, Y/N. I couldn’t stop the things that happened to you, and it kills me to know that you went through all of that alone. I just... I just want to make sure you’re safe and happy now.”

Y/N froze, her anger melting away as she saw the pain in his eyes.

“Franco,” she whispered, stepping closer to him.

“I know I go too far sometimes,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I know I embarrass you or make things worse. But I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you—anything that hurts you. I just want to do right by you.”

Her heart clenched as she reached up to cup his face, forcing him to look at her. “Franco, I’m okay. I’m here, with you, and I’m okay. You don’t have to carry that guilt. You’ve already done more for me than anyone ever has.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “I’m sorry for making a scene. I just... I panicked.”

“I know,” she said softly, pulling him into a hug. “But you have to trust me to handle some things on my own, okay? I’m not as fragile as you think.”

He held her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. “I’ll try. Just... promise me you’ll tell me if I’m ever too much.”

Y/N smiled faintly, stroking his hair. “I promise. And for the record, I love how much you care. Even if it drives me crazy sometimes.”

He let out a soft laugh, pulling back just enough to look at her. “You drive me crazy too, you know.”

“Good,” she teased, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Keeps things interesting.”

The tension between them finally dissipated as they stood there, holding onto each other. Franco knew he’d always have to find a balance between his protectiveness and her independence, but in that moment, all that mattered was that they were together.

--

Tonight, however, she feared his protectiveness would backfire.

The door creaked open, and Franco stepped in, shaking rain droplets from his jacket. His hair was damp, falling messily over his forehead, but his smile remained as he caught sight of her.

“Hey, cariño,” he greeted, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Missed you today.”

Y/N forced a smile. “We need to talk.”

Franco froze mid-motion, his brows furrowing. He straightened, his warm demeanor replaced by concern. “What happened? Did someone say something to you again?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not that.”

He sat beside her, taking her hands in his. “Then what is it?”

Y/N took a deep breath. “I saw the article. The one where they’re saying I’m just with you for your fame. That I’m riding your success.”

Franco’s jaw tightened. His grip on her hands remained gentle, but the protective fire in his eyes burned bright. “Who wrote it?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.

“It doesn’t matter, Franco,” she said, squeezing his hand. “What matters is how it’s affecting you. You’re already dealing with so much pressure in F2, and—”

“No.” Franco cut her off, his voice firm. “Stop. Don’t make this about me. This is about people attacking you, and that’s not okay.”

“But I don’t want to be the reason you’re constantly defending yourself or fighting with the media,” she admitted, her voice cracking.

Franco shook his head, his hands moving to cradle her face. “Y/N, listen to me. You are not a burden, and you are not a distraction. I don’t care what anyone says. You’re mine, and I will protect you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted. His voice softened as he kissed her forehead. “You’ve been through hell, Y/N. I know what your family put you through. I’m not letting anyone else hurt you. Not the media, not some creep at a party, not even me when I screw up.”

Y/N let out a shaky laugh. “You’re too good to me.”

“Damn right I am,” he teased, brushing a tear off her cheek.

Despite the tender moment, tension still lingered in the air. Franco sensed it, and his tone shifted. “What’s really bothering you?”

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “I’m scared that one day, this will be too much for you. That I’ll be too much for you.”

Franco leaned back, his expression hardening—not in anger, but determination. “Y/N, I need you to hear me loud and clear. This is not breaking us up.”

Her eyes widened at his intensity.

“We’ll fight, sure,” he continued. “We’ll have days where we annoy the hell out of each other. But leaving? Breaking up? That’s not happening. Not because of some stupid article or my career or your past. Do you understand me?”

She nodded slowly, overwhelmed by his unwavering resolve.

Franco sighed, his hands running through his damp hair. “I love you, Y/N. And when I say I love you, it means all of you—your past, your fears, everything. So please, stop thinking you’re too much.”

She smiled softly, leaning into him. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“Good,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

They sat like that for a while, the rain outside growing heavier. Franco’s phone buzzed on the coffee table, but he ignored it, choosing instead to hold Y/N closer.

“Let’s order pizza,” he said after a moment. “And after that, I’m finding out who wrote that article. They’re going to regret ever mentioning your name.”

Y/N chuckled, finally feeling at ease. “As long as you don’t get yourself banned from the paddock.”

“No promises,” Franco replied with a grin. “But for you? Worth it.”

[its-avalon-08]

Could you write a story with Franco Colapinto where maybe the reader is in a bit of a “toxic” relationship with an older boyfriend who takes advantage of her like he wants to control her and everything, and even wants to marry her—a bit of a strange situation. Franco helps her get out of it because he’s madly in love with her.

all mine always (fc43)

✦ pairing - franco colapinto x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, break up, insecurity, fluff

Franco Colapinto had always been Y/N’s favorite person. From the moment their mothers introduced them as toddlers in their small Argentinian neighborhood, they’d been inseparable. Where Franco went, Y/N followed, and vice versa. He was her rock, her safe place, the one person she could count on for anything.

As Franco’s racing career took off, Y/N was his biggest cheerleader, whether screaming at the TV during live broadcasts or waiting for hours at the airport to welcome him home. And for Franco, no matter how loud the crowds were or how far he traveled, he always came back to Y/N. She grounded him, reminded him of who he was when the world made him doubt.

But lately, things had changed. Y/N wasn’t the bubbly, carefree girl he’d always known. Her laughter was more strained, her smiles less frequent. And Franco knew why.

It was because of him.

“You’re quieter than usual. What’s going on?” Franco asked, nudging Y/N’s shoulder as they sat on the hood of his car, overlooking their favorite cliffside view.

Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, avoiding his gaze. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“Tired of what? Life? Me?” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood.

“Of course not you,” she mumbled, and he caught the slight tremor in her voice.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Franco’s voice softened, and he leaned closer. “It’s me, Y/N. I’ve seen you bawling over rom-coms, eating half a tub of ice cream in one sitting. There’s nothing you can say that’ll scare me off.”

She let out a weak laugh but didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“What is? Him?” The edge in Franco’s voice was unmistakable.

Y/N’s boyfriend, a man ten years her senior named Marcus, was everything Franco wasn’t. Wealthy, powerful, and utterly controlling. Marcus didn’t like Franco. He didn’t like how close they were, didn’t like how Y/N lit up when she talked about her best friend.

At first, Franco thought Marcus was just jealous. But the more he saw, the more he realized it was something darker. Marcus dictated what Y/N wore, where she went, who she spoke to. He even made her quit her part-time job, claiming he’d “take care of her.”

“Why do you stay with him, Y/N?” Franco finally asked, unable to hold back any longer.

Y/N’s face fell. “He loves me, Franco. He wants to marry me.”

“Marry you?” Franco’s voice rose, and Y/N flinched. “Y/N, he doesn’t love you. He wants to own you.”

“Don’t say that!” she snapped, tears welling in her eyes. “You don’t understand, Franco. He’s been good to me.”

“Good to you?” Franco stood, pacing in frustration. “Y/N, when was the last time you smiled? When was the last time you did something just because it made you happy?”

She was silent, and that silence broke his heart.

Later that night, Franco lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t get the image of Y/N’s tear-filled eyes out of his mind.

He couldn’t lose her to someone like Marcus.

He wouldn’t.

---

It started with the small things. Y/N had always been the loudest laugher in the room, her giggles contagious and uncontainable. But one evening, during a rare dinner at their favorite burger joint, Franco noticed her laughter was muted.

“Remember when you tried to convince me ketchup was a vegetable in second grade?” Franco joked, hoping to coax a smile.

Y/N chuckled lightly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Instead, she glanced at her phone lying face down on the table, as though it held some unspoken threat.

“Y/N, you okay?” Franco pressed.

“Yeah, just… Marcus doesn’t really like when I eat stuff like this,” she murmured, picking at her fries.

Franco frowned. “It’s one burger, Y/N. You’re not signing a lifetime commitment to unhealthy eating.”

She smiled faintly but didn’t touch her food after that.

---

Y/N’s wardrobe had always been a mix of quirky prints, bold colors, and comfortable outfits. She loved experimenting with fashion, her style as vibrant as her personality.

But during one of Franco’s rare visits home, he noticed her wearing muted tones: a beige sweater, black trousers, and flat shoes that looked nothing like the chunky boots she adored.

“Wow, did someone steal all your colors?” Franco teased, eyeing her outfit.

She tugged at the hem of her sweater nervously. “Marcus says these look more… sophisticated. He says I should dress like the woman I’m becoming.”

Franco’s stomach churned. “Since when do you need his approval to dress the way you want?”

“It’s not like that,” she said quickly. “He just wants what’s best for me.”

But Franco couldn’t shake the way she avoided his gaze.

---

Y/N had always been the type to show up unannounced at Franco’s house, snacks in hand, ready to rant about anything and everything. But those visits became less frequent.

One evening, Franco called her after weeks of barely hearing from her.

“Hey, stranger! Do I need to make an appointment to see my best friend now?” he joked.

“Sorry, I’ve just been busy,” she said, her voice hesitant.

“Too busy for me? C’mon, Y/N, that’s not you. What’s really going on?”

“Marcus doesn’t like me hanging out too much. He says it’s distracting me from our future.”

“Our future?” Franco repeated, his voice laced with disbelief. “Y/N, he’s not your entire life.”

“He’s important to me, Franco,” she snapped, but her voice cracked at the end.

Franco sighed, the weight of her words sinking in.

---

Y/N had always been fiercely independent, never afraid to voice her opinions or stand her ground. But that spark seemed dimmed.

One day, Franco overheard her on a call with Marcus while she waited for him at the karting track.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll be home soon, okay? Please don’t be mad.”

When she hung up, Franco approached her.

“Why were you apologizing?” he asked.

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly. “Just a small misunderstanding.”

“Y/N,” Franco said firmly, his tone demanding honesty. “When did you start apologizing for existing?”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, it looked like she might break down. But then she shook her head. “You don’t get it, Franco. Marcus just expects a lot from me. It’s not a bad thing.”

But Franco could see it—how she shrank in on herself, a shadow of the person she used to be.

---

The final straw came when Y/N showed up at Franco’s house one evening, tears streaking her face. She was holding a gift Marcus had given her—a diamond bracelet—though it felt more like a shackle to Franco.

“He said I’m too friendly with other people,” she confessed, her voice trembling. “He thinks I’m not committed enough to him.”

Franco’s jaw tightened. “So what? He bought you this to guilt you into proving it?”

She didn’t respond, just stared at the bracelet with hollow eyes.

“Y/N,” Franco said gently, stepping closer. “This isn’t love. Love doesn’t make you afraid to be yourself.”

She looked up at him, and for the first time, he saw it—the fear, the doubt, the realization that she was trapped.

And that’s when Franco vowed to get her out, no matter what it took.

---

Franco sat across from Y/N in his dimly lit living room. The cozy space that had always been filled with their laughter now felt stifling under the weight of her silence. Her eyes were glued to the floor, fingers fidgeting with the bracelet Marcus had gifted her.

“Y/N, enough.” Franco’s voice was sharp, his frustration barely contained. “Tell me what’s going on. All of it. No more ‘I’m fine,’ no more ‘It’s nothing.’ Because I can’t keep watching you like this.”

Y/N’s hands stilled, and she finally looked up at him. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and her lips trembled as she tried to find the words.

“I—” she began, but her voice broke.

“Just say it,” Franco urged, leaning forward, his hands gripping his knees. “Whatever it is, I’m here. Always. You know that.”

And then, like a dam bursting, the words spilled out.

“I feel like I’m losing myself, Franco,” Y/N whispered, her voice shaky. “It’s like… it’s like nothing I do is ever enough for him.”

Franco’s fists clenched, his jaw tightening. “What do you mean?”

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “He controls everything. What I wear, what I eat, who I talk to. If I laugh too loud, he tells me I’m embarrassing him. If I spend too much time out, he says I don’t care about our relationship. And when I try to stand up for myself…”

Her voice cracked, and a tear slid down her cheek.

Franco’s heart shattered. “What happens when you stand up for yourself, Y/N?”

She hesitated, then finally whispered, “He gets angry. Really angry. He doesn’t hit me, but… he’ll yell, or give me the silent treatment for days. And then he’ll apologize, say he just wants the best for me, and I… I believe him. Every time.”

“That bastard,” Franco muttered under his breath, his eyes blazing with fury. “That manipulative, controlling piece of—”

“Stop!” Y/N cried, her voice rising as more tears streamed down her face. “You don’t understand, Franco. He says he loves me. He says he wants to marry me because he can’t live without me. What if he’s right? What if no one else could ever love me like he does?”

Franco shot out of his chair so fast it scraped against the floor. He stood towering over her, his hands trembling with anger.

“No one else could love you? Are you hearing yourself, Y/N? That’s not love—that’s control. That’s manipulation. He doesn’t love you, he loves the idea of owning you.”

Y/N flinched at his harsh tone, and he immediately softened, crouching down in front of her.

“Y/N,” he said gently, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re brilliant, funny, kind—you’ve got this light that draws people in. Don’t let him dim that light. Don’t let him make you think you’re less than you are.”

“But he’ll never let me go, Franco,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “He’ll find a way to keep me under his thumb. And I… I don’t know how to fight him.”

Franco’s protective instincts kicked into overdrive. He placed his hands firmly on her knees, looking her directly in the eyes.

“You don’t have to fight him alone,” he said fiercely. “You’ve got me. And I’ll fight him, Y/N. I’ll fight anyone who tries to hurt you, who tries to take you away from the person you’re meant to be.”

“But how?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Franco’s eyes darkened with determination. “We’ll figure it out. Whatever it takes, we’ll get you out of this. You’re not marrying him, you’re not staying with him—you’re not going to lose yourself because of some controlling prick who doesn’t deserve you.”

Y/N broke down completely, sobs wracking her body as Franco pulled her into his arms. She clung to him like a lifeline, her tears soaking his shirt.

“I’m scared,” she admitted through her tears.

“I know,” Franco murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he held her tighter. “But I’m here. You’re not alone, Y/N. You’ll never be alone as long as I’m around.”

And in that moment, Franco vowed to do whatever it took to protect her—even if it meant going toe-to-toe with Marcus himself.

---

Franco sat in the back corner of a quiet café, nursing a cup of coffee he didn’t care to drink. Across the table sat Fernando Alonso, Carlos Sainz, and Max Verstappen—three of Y/N’s closest confidants, all equally concerned about the situation she was trapped in.

“This guy sounds like a parasite,” Carlos muttered, leaning back in his chair with a scowl. “He’s feeding off her, controlling her life. It makes me sick.”

“Controlling isn’t even the right word,” Franco added, his voice sharp. “He’s obsessed with her. She’s terrified to even think about leaving him because of what he might do.”

Fernando leaned forward, his expression dark and calculated. “If he’s that obsessed, just walking away won’t work. He’ll follow her, pressure her, maybe even blackmail her. We have to remove him from the equation completely.”

Max raised an eyebrow, swirling his coffee absentmindedly. “What are you suggesting? Breaking his legs?”

“I wish,” Franco growled. “But we need something smarter. Something that gets rid of him without putting her in the middle of it.”

Carlos sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Does he have any weaknesses? Anything we can use against him?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Franco said, pulling out his phone. “Y/N mentioned that Marcus has been pushing for marriage because he thinks it’ll lock her down. If we can prove he’s not as perfect as he pretends to be, maybe we can destroy his image. The guy’s got to have skeletons in his closet.”

“Everyone does,” Fernando said, his voice cool and composed. “We just have to dig deep enough to find them.”

Max smirked. “Lucky for you, I know a guy who’s great at digging. He’s done some work for me before—discreet and efficient.”

Fernando raised an eyebrow. “You’ve had people investigated before?”

“Sometimes it’s useful,” Max said with a shrug. “Let me make a call. If Marcus has anything to hide, we’ll know soon enough.”

While Max stepped away to make the call, Carlos leaned toward Franco. “What about Y/N? Does she know we’re planning this?”

Franco shook his head. “She’s already scared out of her mind. I don’t want her worrying about this too. I’ll tell her once we have a solid plan.”

Carlos nodded, his jaw tightening. “Good. She doesn’t need any more stress right now. But Franco… if this guy doesn’t back off, I won’t sit back and play nice.”

“Neither will I,” Fernando added, his voice like steel. “But we’ll try it the clean way first. For Y/N’s sake.”

Max returned, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “My guy’s on it. Give him a couple of days, and we’ll have everything we need on Marcus.”

A heavy silence fell over the table, the weight of their plan sinking in.

“You think this will work?” Franco asked, his voice quieter now.

“It has to,” Fernando said firmly. “If it doesn’t, we’ll come up with something else. But we won’t let her stay trapped. Not while we’re here.”

Max smirked, though his tone was serious. “Don’t worry, mate. He’ll wish he’d never met Y/N by the time we’re done with him.”

Franco leaned back, exhaling slowly. “Thank you, guys. Seriously. I couldn’t do this alone.”

Carlos clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re all in this for her. And when she’s free of him, she’ll finally see what an idiot she’s been for not choosing you sooner.”

Franco blinked at Carlos, heat rising to his cheeks. “This isn’t about me.”

“No,” Fernando said, smirking faintly for the first time. “But it’s obvious how much you love her. She’s lucky to have you, Franco.”

Franco swallowed hard, determination flashing in his eyes. “She’s the one who deserves better. And I’ll make sure she gets it.”

The four of them exchanged grim nods, their shared goal uniting them. Marcus had no idea what was coming for him.

---

It was late in the evening when Franco received the call from Max���s contact. Standing in his apartment, he listened intently, his knuckles white as he gripped his phone.

“Are you sure about this?” Franco asked, pacing the floor.

“Positive,” the voice on the other end said. “Marcus has a history. Fraud, manipulation, even harassment complaints from two previous partners. It’s all there, buried deep, but enough to destroy him if it gets out.”

Franco’s jaw clenched. “Send me everything. Now.”

As soon as the call ended, Franco stared at the incoming files on his laptop. Each piece of evidence felt like a punch to the gut—not for Marcus’s sins, but for the fact that Y/N had been stuck with him, blind to the extent of his darkness.

He called Fernando, Carlos, and Max to his apartment. Within an hour, they were all seated around his laptop, reviewing the damning evidence.

“This guy is a predator,” Carlos said, his voice seething. “How did Y/N get caught up with him?”

“She didn’t know,” Franco said, running a hand through his hair. “She’s too kind, too trusting. He preyed on that.”

Fernando leaned back in his chair, his expression cold. “This is enough to get him out of her life. Publicly exposing him would ruin him. He’d be too busy cleaning up his mess to focus on her.”

Max tapped a finger on the table. “But we need to be smart about this. If Marcus suspects Y/N’s involved, he might retaliate. We have to keep her out of it entirely.”

Franco nodded. “Agreed. So, we leak this anonymously. Make sure it hits hard, fast, and far enough that he can’t trace it back to her.”

Carlos glanced at Franco. “How’s she holding up?”

“Barely,” Franco admitted, his voice low. “She’s trying to put on a brave face, but I can tell she’s breaking inside. She doesn’t even know about this yet.”

Max crossed his arms. “She won’t have to. We handle this, she stays safe, and Marcus is gone. End of story.”

Fernando, ever the strategist, stood. “I’ll make a few calls. I know someone who can ensure this hits the right places—media outlets, law enforcement, even his employers if he has any. Marcus won’t have time to even think about Y/N once this explodes.”

“Do it,” Franco said firmly. “I don’t care what it takes, just make sure it’s over.”

The plan was in motion, but Franco couldn’t shake the tightness in his chest. He’d seen Y/N earlier that day, and the haunted look in her eyes was etched into his memory. She didn’t deserve any of this.

When the others left to put the plan into action, Franco sat alone, staring at his phone. His thumb hovered over Y/N’s contact. He wanted to call her, to tell her it would all be okay soon. But he knew she wouldn’t believe him—not yet.

Instead, he texted her:

Franco: I’m here if you need me. Always.

Her response came almost immediately:

Y/N: I know. Thank you.

Franco set his phone down, his determination solidifying. By this time tomorrow, Marcus would be nothing more than a bad memory. And Y/N would finally be free.

---

Y/N sat in Franco’s apartment, curled up on his couch with a mug of tea clutched in her hands. She hadn’t said much since arriving that morning, her anxiety bubbling over as Marcus’s world began to collapse. The plan was in motion, but the waiting was unbearable.

The knock on the door made her flinch, and Franco immediately went to answer it. Carlos stepped inside, his face grim, but the small glint in his eyes told Franco what he needed to know.

“It’s done,” Carlos said simply.

“What?” Y/N’s voice wavered, her head snapping up.

Carlos crossed the room, sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of her. “Marcus has been arrested. They found enough evidence to charge him with fraud and harassment, and with the media leak, his reputation is in shreds. He’s not getting near you again.”

Y/N’s mug slipped from her hands onto the table, her hands flying to her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over as the weight of his words settled in. “He’s… he’s really gone?”

Franco sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “He’s gone, Y/N. For good.”

She broke into sobs, burying her face in her hands. Relief poured out of her in waves, shaking her frame as the months of fear and anxiety began to melt away. Franco held her, his hand running soothingly up and down her back.

Over the Next Few Weeks

Y/N took slow but steady steps toward reclaiming her life. Franco was with her every step of the way—helping her rebuild her confidence, reminding her of who she was before Marcus had taken over her life.

One evening, as they sat on a park bench eating ice cream, Y/N laughed for the first time in what felt like forever. It was a small laugh, but it was real, and Franco couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“You’re staring,” she teased, her voice lighter than it had been in weeks.

He grinned, his heart flipping at the sight of her smile. “Can you blame me? I’ve missed that laugh.”

She looked down, swirling her ice cream with the spoon. “I’ve missed it too. I didn’t even realize how much I’d lost until… until now.”

Franco nudged her playfully. “Well, it’s coming back. Little by little. And I’m here to make sure it doesn’t go anywhere this time.”

Y/N tilted her head to look at him, her gaze soft. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Franco. You’ve been my rock through all of this.”

A Month Later

“Close your eyes,” Franco said one evening, leading Y/N by the hand into his living room.

“Franco, what are you up to?” she asked, her tone suspicious but amused.

“Trust me,” he said with a grin.

When she opened her eyes, the room was lit with fairy lights, and her favorite snacks and a cozy blanket were laid out on the couch. A projector screen displayed her favorite childhood movie.

“Movie night?” she asked, her voice catching slightly.

“Not just any movie night,” Franco said, gesturing grandly. “The start of the new, sparkly, unstoppable Y/N era. Consider this a celebration of you being… well, you.”

Tears pricked at her eyes as she hugged him tightly. “You’re too good to me, Franco.”

He hugged her back, his chest tightening. You deserve the world, he thought, but didn’t say it. Instead, he said, “It’s what you deserve.”

Weeks Turn to Months

Y/N began finding joy in the little things again—taking walks, experimenting with new hobbies, even joining Franco at karting tracks where he indulged her playful trash talk about his skills.

One afternoon, as she beat him in a casual race, she threw her arms in the air triumphantly. “Told you I’d wipe the floor with you, Colapinto!”

Franco laughed, pulling off his helmet. “Alright, alright, you win. But don’t forget who’s the professional here.”

She winked. “Professional loser today.”

He watched her, his heart swelling with pride and adoration. She was glowing again, her spark fully returned. And every day, he found himself falling deeper in love.

But he kept those feelings locked away—for now. Because seeing her happy was all that mattered.

For now.

---

Franco stood nervously in the middle of the clearing, the moonlight filtering through the tall trees. Their childhood spot had transformed—fairy lights twinkled between the branches, and soft candles lined the pathway leading to the small wooden bench they had carved their initials into as kids. He had spent hours making it perfect. Tonight, he would tell Y/N everything.

He heard her soft footsteps before he saw her. Turning, he saw Y/N step into the clearing, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Franco…” she breathed, her hand flying to her mouth. “What is all this?”

He smiled, though his heart was racing. “A walk down memory lane. Do you remember when we used to come here every summer? When the world felt simple and small?”

She nodded, tears already forming in her eyes as she took in the glowing lights and the warmth of the scene. “I… I can’t believe you did this. It’s beautiful.”

Franco held out his hand, and she took it, letting him guide her to the bench. They sat side by side, the soft glow of the lights illuminating her face.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time. Months, actually. Maybe years, if I’m honest.”

She tilted her head, her brows furrowing. “What moment?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers. “The moment I stop pretending that I’m just your best friend. That I don’t feel everything for you, every single day. The moment I tell you the truth.”

Her lips parted, her breath hitching, but she said nothing, her eyes searching his.

“You’ve been through so much,” Franco continued, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve watched you lose yourself and then fight to get your light back. And every step of the way, I’ve loved you. Not just as my best friend, but as the person who makes my life brighter just by being in it.”

Y/N blinked rapidly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Franco…”

“I love how you challenge me, how you make me laugh, how you see the good in everyone—even when they don’t deserve it. And I hate that I waited this long to tell you, but I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. Of scaring you away.”

Her hand covered her mouth, her shoulders trembling as his words washed over her.

“You’re my everything,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “And I want to be the person who makes you feel safe, and loved, and free. Forever. If you’ll let me.”

For a moment, silence hung in the air, broken only by the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.

Then Y/N let out a shaky laugh, wiping her tears. “You idiot,” she said softly. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. I just thought you’d never see me that way.”

Franco’s breath caught. “Wait… what?”

She nodded, laughing through her tears. “You were always the one, Franco. I was just too scared to ruin what we had.”

He let out a breath of disbelief before pulling her into his arms, holding her tightly. “You could never ruin anything, Y/N. Not with me.”

As they pulled back, she cupped his face, her eyes shining. “You’re my everything too, Franco. And I’m so glad you didn’t wait any longer.”

He smiled, leaning his forehead against hers. “So, does that mean you’ll go out with me? Officially?”

She laughed, nodding. “Yes, you idiot. A thousand times yes.”

Under the glow of the lights, Franco kissed her—soft and slow, pouring years of love and longing into that single moment. And for the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right.

[its-avalon-08]

Hiiii ! I don’t know if you’re taking requests or not but I had an idea for a Lando x reader imagine where they’ve been dating for a little bit (it’s still very new) and then one of his ex’s comes back into his life (platonically) and he completely forgets about the reader until someone comments about his getting back with his ex and he realises how much he’s neglected reader. So he has to make it up her.

Angst to fluff please

see me again (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, neglect (GUYS WHY SO MUCH ANGST WHO HURT YOU)

Lando and Y/N’s relationship was still wrapped in the charm of newness. Six months in, everything felt fresh and exciting—every touch, every shared secret, and every stolen moment was etched with the novelty of love.

The mornings were Y/N’s favorite, especially when she woke up before him. She’d sit by the large windows of his Monaco apartment, sipping her coffee as the sunlight played across the harbor. Lando would shuffle out, hair tousled, mumbling something unintelligible about coffee before wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“You’re up early,” he murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“I wanted to watch the sunrise,” she replied, smiling as he pressed a kiss to her neck.

“I’m way more interesting than a sunrise.”

“Debatable.”

He feigned offense, but the way his lips curved into a smile gave him away. These quiet moments were theirs—a world apart from the public eye and the roar of engines.

It was during one of these serene mornings when his phone buzzed on the counter, the name Sophia lighting up the screen.

“Who’s that?” Y/N asked casually, sipping her coffee.

Lando glanced at his phone and grinned. “Oh, Sophia. My ex. She’s back in Monaco.”

Y/N’s stomach tightened, but she kept her expression neutral. “Oh, that’s nice. Are you two still in touch?”

“Not really. We parted on good terms, though. She just wanted to catch up.”

Catch up. The phrase hung in the air like an unspoken question.

“That’s... nice,” Y/N replied, her tone light but forced.

“It’ll be fine,” Lando reassured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’re just friends now.”

At first, Y/N convinced herself it wasn’t a big deal. Lando was an open book, and he’d never given her a reason to doubt him. But over the next few weeks, Sophia’s presence loomed larger in their lives than Y/N had anticipated.

“Hey, love, can we raincheck tonight? Sophia wants to grab dinner, and I haven’t seen her in forever,” Lando said one evening, his tone casual, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Y/N’s stomach sank. “Yeah, sure. No problem,” she replied, masking her disappointment.

But it didn’t stop there. Plans were canceled or cut short. Lando would come home later and later, distracted and tired. The easy laughter they used to share was replaced with curt conversations, and Y/N felt like an afterthought in his life.

The final straw came when she arrived at the paddock one weekend, hoping to surprise him, only to find him deep in conversation with Sophia by his car. They looked so comfortable together, laughing and reminiscing, that Y/N felt like an outsider looking in.

“Y/N!” Lando called when he spotted her. “Come meet Sophia.”

She forced a polite smile, shaking Sophia’s hand. The woman was beautiful and warm, everything Y/N wasn’t sure she could compete with.

“It’s so nice to meet you. Lando talks about you all the time,” Sophia said, her smile genuine.

“Likewise,” Y/N replied, her voice tight.

----

The invitation had been on their fridge for weeks: a prestigious event honoring young researchers. Y/N had worked tirelessly on a groundbreaking discovery, and the award was a testament to her dedication. Lando had promised to be there.

That night, Y/N stood in front of her mirror, adjusting her dress nervously. She had picked a navy-blue gown that Lando had once said brought out her eyes. She sent him a quick text as she slipped on her heels.

Y/N: Heading out now. Can’t wait to see you there.

But as she arrived at the venue and scanned the crowd, he was nowhere to be found. She sat at the table reserved for her friends and family, her phone buzzing in her clutch.

Lando: Sophia’s car broke down, and I had to help her out. I’ll come as soon as I can.

The evening passed in a blur. Y/N walked on stage to accept her award, smiling for the cameras, but the empty seat next to her screamed louder than anything else.

When she got home, her trophy in hand, Lando was already asleep on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled when she woke him up. “Sophia was stranded, and I couldn’t leave her.”

Y/N just nodded, swallowing her words. What was the point of saying them if he wasn’t listening?

---

Their Friday date nights had been a sacred tradition from the very beginning. It was their way of carving out time amidst their busy schedules. Y/N had planned something special—dinner at the restaurant where they had their first date, followed by dessert at their favorite ice cream shop.

She waited at the table, checking her phone every few minutes.

Y/N: Are you on your way?

No reply.

Thirty minutes turned into an hour, and the once-cozy restaurant felt suffocating. Y/N paid for her untouched meal and walked out, her heels clicking against the pavement as she headed home.

When she entered the apartment, Lando was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

“Hey,” he said casually. “Sorry, I lost track of time. Sophia and I were talking, and—”

“You forgot,” Y/N interrupted, her voice sharper than she intended.

“I said I’m sorry,” Lando replied, frowning. “You could’ve called.”

“I shouldn’t have to,” she shot back, her frustration boiling over. “I planned this night for us, Lando. Not for me to sit alone while you spend the evening with her.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t mean to,” Y/N repeated bitterly. “That’s the problem.”

---

Y/N had been looking forward to their weekend getaway for weeks. It wasn’t anything extravagant—just a quiet trip to the countryside, away from the noise of Monaco and the demands of Lando’s career.

She packed their bags and waited by the door, excitement bubbling in her chest. But an hour before they were supposed to leave, Lando called.

“I can’t make it, love,” he said apologetically. “Sophia’s moving, and she needs help with her furniture. Raincheck?”

Raincheck. The word felt like a slap.

“Sure,” Y/N replied, her voice flat.

The weekend passed in solitude, and the bags she had packed remained untouched by the door.

Each instance chipped away at Y/N’s patience and self-worth. By the time she confided in Alexandra and Charles, she wasn’t just frustrated—she was heartbroken.

The facade cracked later that week when Y/N confided in Alexandra and Charles during a quiet dinner at their place.

“I don’t even know who I’m dating anymore,” she admitted, tears streaming down her face.

Alexandra wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Y/N, you need to tell him how you feel. He can’t fix what he doesn’t know.”

Y/N shook her head. “He doesn’t even see it, Alex. I feel invisible. Like I’m just... here while he’s off with her. And the worst part? I don’t even think he realizes what he’s doing.”

Charles, who had been silent, finally spoke. “That’s not fair to you. You deserve better.”

“I don’t even know if he loves me anymore,” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking.

Alexandra hugged her tightly, while Charles looked at her with quiet determination. “Then he needs to figure it out,” he said firmly. “But not at the cost of your happiness.”

Y/N nodded, her heart heavy as she realized she couldn’t keep going like this. Something had to change—because the person she had fallen in love with felt further away than ever.

time skip--

Chapter 2: Cracks Become Chasms

Lando stood near the McLaren motorhome, signing autographs and laughing with fans. It was a typical morning at the paddock, but the air felt heavier today. The whispers had started earlier, and by the time a journalist approached him for a quick interview, the weight of the rumors was impossible to ignore.

“So, Lando,” the journalist began with a smirk, “there’s been a lot of buzz about you and Sophia lately. Fans are wondering—is there something going on? A reconciliation perhaps?”

The question hit him like a brick.

“Uh, no,” he stammered, forcing a chuckle. “We’re just friends.”

The journalist raised an eyebrow. “It’s just, we haven’t seen much of Y/N lately, and you and Sophia seem to be spending a lot of time together. People are starting to talk.”

Lando felt the color drain from his face. “Y/N and I are fine,” he said quickly, brushing off the comment. But doubt began to creep in.

As he walked back toward the garage, he spotted Alexandra striding toward him, her expression thunderous. Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement, each step radiating fury.

“Alex, hey—”

“Don’t Alex me,” she snapped, her voice louder than he’d ever heard. “What the hell is wrong with you, Lando?”

“Wait, what?” Lando blinked, taken aback.

“You’ve been an absolute idiot, that’s what!” Alexandra’s voice rose, catching the attention of several passersby. “Do you even realize what you’ve done to Y/N? She’s been breaking her heart over you, and you’re too busy playing hero for Sophia to notice!”

“Alexandra—”

“No!” she interrupted, pointing a finger at his chest. “Do you know where Y/N was last night? Crying her eyes out because she doesn’t know if the person she fell in love with even exists anymore!”

Lando stepped back, his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.

“You’ve been canceling on her, forgetting her, neglecting her! And for what? To be Sophia’s knight in shining armor? She’s your past, Lando. Y/N is your present! Or is she not anymore?”

“Alexandra, enough,” Charles murmured, stepping in. He gently pulled her back, his hands on her shoulders as he whispered something in French, his voice soft and soothing.

“Don’t defend him,” she snapped at Charles, though her tone softened slightly at his touch.

“I’m not defending him,” Charles replied, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Alexandra’s rage. “But you’re scaring him, and I’d rather he listens than shuts down.”

Alexandra huffed but stepped back, crossing her arms as her eyes burned holes into Lando. “If you care about her at all, Lando, you’d better fix this. Because if you don’t, you’re going to lose the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

The words echoed in Lando’s ears as he retreated to the privacy of his driver’s room. He sat on the edge of the couch, his head in his hands.

Was it really that bad?

He grabbed his phone and opened social media, his heart sinking as he scrolled through countless comments.

@fan1: “Is Lando back with Sophia? Poor Y/N hasn’t been seen in ages.” @fan2: “Sophia again? Guess Y/N deserved better anyway.” @fan3: “Y/N’s been posting about her work, and Lando hasn’t even acknowledged her award. But sure, let’s talk about Sophia’s car breaking down.” @fan4: “Why does it feel like Y/N is just an afterthought to him now? I miss when they seemed so happy.”

His breath caught as he stumbled upon a photo of Y/N at her award show, standing on stage with her trophy. Her smile was radiant, but something about her eyes looked off—distant, hollow.

Lando scrolled further, finding more pictures of her. There was one she’d posted of their planned getaway, the caption reading, “Maybe next time.” It had been liked thousands of times, but the comments told a different story.

@fan5: “It’s sad seeing her try so hard when Lando doesn’t even show up.” @fan6: “He doesn’t deserve her if this is how he treats her.” @fan7: “Sophia’s great, but Y/N is the one who stood by him. What is he doing?”

Each comment was a stab to his chest, and Lando realized with horror that everyone had noticed his neglect—everyone but him.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling as guilt clawed at him. How had he been so blind? Y/N had been giving him everything, and he had taken it all for granted. Alexandra’s words echoed in his mind: She’s been breaking her heart over you.

Lando’s chest tightened as his thumb hovered over Y/N’s contact. He didn’t even know what to say. Would an apology even be enough?

time skip --

Chapter 3: Silent Realizations

The apartment was eerily quiet when Lando stepped through the door. He set his keys down carefully, as though afraid any sound might shatter the fragile air of tension. He glanced at the clock—it was late, far later than he’d intended to come home.

The smell of food lingered faintly in the air, but the dishes were already washed and stacked neatly. A plate of leftovers sat covered on the counter, untouched. He frowned, guilt gnawing at him. She hadn’t waited for him for dinner.

The living room lights were dimmed, and his heart clenched when he saw Y/N curled up on the couch, a blanket pulled halfway over her. She wasn’t asleep—her eyes were on the TV, but the blank look on her face told him she wasn’t really watching.

“Y/N,” he called softly, his voice breaking the stillness.

She glanced at him briefly, her expression unreadable, before returning her gaze to the screen.

“Hey,” he tried again, stepping closer.

“Hey,” she replied, her tone distant, polite.

It broke him.

Lando stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, before his feet carried him to her. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to explain or defend himself. Instead, he sank onto the couch beside her and wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her into his chest.

Y/N froze at first, her body stiff against his. She didn’t hug him back, didn’t move, didn’t even speak.

“Please,” Lando whispered into her hair, his voice cracking. He held her tighter, as if letting go would mean losing her forever.

After a moment, something in her broke. Her arms wrapped around him, clutching him like he was the last lifeline in a storm. Her shoulders shook as the first sob escaped her lips, and then the dam burst.

She cried into his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. Her pain poured out in waves, raw and unfiltered, and Lando held her like his life depended on it.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice barely audible over her sobs. “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

Her crying didn’t falter, but he kept going, the words spilling out of him in a desperate rush.

“I’ve been the worst boyfriend. I’ve neglected you, hurt you, made you feel like you don’t matter, and it’s all my fault. You’ve given me everything, Y/N, and I... I’ve been too blind to see it.”

She pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face looking up at him, her eyes filled with anguish.

“You don’t even see me anymore, Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“I see you now,” he said, his voice fierce, his hands cupping her face. “I see you, Y/N. And I hate myself for making you feel invisible, for making you question your worth, for making you cry when all you’ve ever done is love me.”

He rested his forehead against hers, his own tears slipping free. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. You’re the reason I smile, the reason I feel grounded, the reason I believe I can be better. And I’ve taken you for granted. I’ve been so caught up in my own world that I forgot how much I need you in it.”

Her lip quivered, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I miss you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I miss us.”

“We’ll get us back,” Lando vowed, his hands trembling as they brushed her tears away. “I swear to you, Y/N. No more excuses, no more distractions. I’m here. Fully, completely, here. And I’ll spend every day proving it to you, if you’ll let me.”

Her arms tightened around him again, her sobs subsiding into quiet hiccups. For the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to believe him.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” she murmured, her voice small.

“You won’t,” he promised, his lips brushing her forehead. “I’ll never let that happen. I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

They stayed like that for a long time, tangled in each other’s arms, the silence now filled with unspoken promises and fragile hope. It wouldn’t be easy, but Lando was determined to make things right—starting now.

--

The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside. It had been weeks since everything had fallen apart, but in the aftermath, Lando had rebuilt their relationship brick by brick. Every day, he showed up—not just physically, but emotionally. Dinner dates, goodnight kisses, endless inside jokes—it was perfect. Y/N felt like they’d found their way back to each other, stronger than ever.

But perfection could still hide lingering fears.

Lando shot up in bed, his breathing ragged, sweat dampening his shirt. The room was dark, the faint glow of the moon casting shadows across the walls. His chest heaved as the images of his dream haunted him—Y/N’s tear-streaked face, her cold tone, and the final words that echoed in his mind like a death knell:

“I can’t do this anymore, Lando. I’m done.”

His heart twisted painfully, and he scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to shake the phantom ache. Quietly, so as not to wake her, he slipped out of bed and padded to the balcony.

The cool night air hit his skin as he stepped outside, leaning heavily on the railing. His chest was tight, his throat dry. Despite everything they’d overcome, the fear of losing her still clawed at him.

“Lando?”

Her voice was soft, laced with sleep, but it startled him. He turned to see Y/N standing in the doorway, her hair messy from sleep and his oversized hoodie draped over her frame.

“Hey,” he whispered, quickly wiping at his face.

“Why are you out here?” she asked, stepping closer. Her brows furrowed as she noticed the redness in his eyes. “Have you been crying?”

“No, I’m fine,” he lied, his voice shaky.

“Lando,” she said firmly, crossing the distance between them. She placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “Talk to me.”

He let out a shuddering breath, his resolve crumbling under her touch. “I had a nightmare,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “You left me.”

Her face softened instantly. “Oh, Lando…”

“It felt so real,” he continued, his voice breaking. “You said you couldn’t do it anymore. That I’d hurt you too much, and you were done. I tried to stop you, but you were already gone. And when I woke up, I—” His voice cracked, and he covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking as silent sobs overtook him.

Y/N’s heart shattered at the sight. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. “I’m here,” she murmured, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. “I’m right here, Lando.”

“I was so awful to you,” he choked out, his arms tightening around her. “I keep thinking about everything I did—everything I didn’t do—and I hate myself for it. What if… what if one day you realize you deserve better and leave?”

She pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, her hands cupping his face. “Lando Norris, listen to me,” she said, her tone firm but filled with love. “I’m not going anywhere. Yes, you hurt me. Yes, it was hard. But you’ve shown me every single day since then how much you care, how much I mean to you. You fought for us, and I know you’ll keep fighting.”

“I just… I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice raw.

“You won’t,” she promised, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks to wipe away his tears. “I’m here because I love you. Not the perfect version of you, not the driver everyone sees, but you. The one who makes stupid jokes, who holds me when I cry, who tries so hard to make up for his mistakes. That’s the Lando I love. And I’m not leaving him.”

Her words washed over him, soothing the storm inside. He buried his face in her shoulder, clutching her as though she might disappear if he let go.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.

“You do,” she insisted, pulling back to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re not perfect, Lando. Neither am I. But we’re perfect together, and that’s all that matters.”

He nodded against her shoulder, the tightness in his chest finally easing. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” she replied, holding him close.

They stood there for a while, wrapped in each other’s warmth under the night sky. Eventually, Y/N tugged him back inside, settling them both on the bed. She kept her arms around him, her fingers running soothingly through his hair until his breathing evened out and sleep finally claimed him.

And as he drifted off, Lando realized that as long as he had her, the nightmares didn’t stand a chance.

[its-avalon-08]

Idk if your doing requests but if so could I request something where reader and Lando have been together like since they where 19 or something but a long time, and they have a fight that over something stupid but it escalates and Lando snaps frustrated and says maybe they need a brake and tells her to leave. She is heartbroken, and when Lando tries to get in contact with her, she won't answer, worrying Lando as she ignores his calls clearly. Then, Lando freaking out, thinking it's over and the one person in his life that he loved more than anything is gone. Carlos coming over to get some of readers things but Lando is heartbroken more at that, and when the reader comes back to the apartment after no contact for a week, she packs her clothes, but Lando panics and starts apologising. Happy ending, please, though. Sorry if it's long.

cracks in forever (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, break up

The night felt colder than usual, and the warmth of their shared home seemed suffocating. Y/N stood in the kitchen, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound as she waited for Lando to come home. He was late again—hours this time—with no texts, no calls.

When the front door finally opened, she didn’t rush to greet him. Instead, she stayed rooted in place, her arms crossed as he walked in, his jacket slung over his shoulder, looking more frustrated than apologetic.

“You’re late,” she said flatly, her voice strained.

He glanced at her, his brows furrowing. “Yeah, I know. The day ran long.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

Lando sighed, dropping his bag by the door. “What do you want me to say, Y/N? I’m sorry. Happy?”

Her jaw tightened, her chest already aching from the weight of the argument that hadn’t even begun. “You didn’t even think to call me, did you? Or text? I’ve been sitting here for hours, wondering if you were okay, and you couldn’t even bother to let me know?”

His frustration flared. “I didn’t realize I needed to check in like a teenager. I’m fine, obviously. You could’ve just assumed that.”

Her eyes widened, the sting of his words hitting hard. “Do you even hear yourself? You think it’s too much to let me know you’re not lying in a ditch somewhere? God, Lando, it’s not about checking in—it’s about respect!”

“Respect?” he shot back, his voice rising. “I’ve been busting my ass all day trying to juggle everything, and you’re standing here acting like I don’t care about you because I forgot to text? Give me a break, Y/N.”

Her lip quivered, but she forced herself to stand tall. “This isn’t just about today. You’ve been distant for weeks. I feel like I’m screaming into a void, trying to hold us together, and you’re not even trying anymore!”

“Maybe because I’m tired of feeling like I’m failing all the time!” Lando snapped, his voice louder now, his hands gesturing wildly. “Nothing I do is ever good enough for you!”

Tears filled her eyes, spilling over as her voice cracked. “Don’t you dare turn this on me. You think I like feeling like I’m begging for scraps of your attention? You think I like crying myself to sleep because I don’t know if you even want me around anymore?”

Lando froze for a moment, her words piercing through his anger. But instead of softening, he doubled down, his own frustration clouding his judgment. “What do you want me to say, Y/N? That I’m perfect? That I have all the answers? Because I don’t! Maybe—” He stopped, clenching his fists. “Maybe we just need a break. Maybe that’s what we need to figure this out.”

Her breath caught, the words cutting her like a knife. “A break?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You want me to leave?”

“I don’t know, okay?” he shouted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “Maybe we just need space. I can’t do this anymore—this constant fighting, this pressure.”

Her shoulders shook as she tried to steady herself, but the tears wouldn’t stop. She wiped at her cheeks, her voice breaking. “You know what? Fine. If I’m such a burden to you, I’ll go. I’ll make it easier for you.”

“Y/N, that’s not—”

“No,” she cut him off, her voice rising with the hurt that burned in her chest. “You don’t get to say things like that and take them back. You don’t get to hurt me like this and then act like it’s nothing. I’ve been here, Lando. I’ve been here for you. Through everything. And now you’re telling me I’m too much for you?”

Her words hit him like a freight train, but his pride kept him silent. He didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t know what to say.

She shook her head, tears still streaming down her face. “You want space? Fine. Have it.”

Y/N stormed past him, grabbing her keys and bag. Lando turned, his heart sinking as she reached the door.

“Y/N, wait—”

But she didn’t. She slammed the door behind her, leaving him standing alone in the silence of their home.

The regret hit him almost immediately, but by the time he picked up his phone to call her, she was already gone.

--

Title: Cracks in Forever

Lando barely slept that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face—tear-streaked, devastated, and broken. He replayed the argument over and over, his words echoing in his mind like a cruel reminder of his failure.

“Maybe we just need a break.”

How could he have said that? How could he have pushed her away when she was the only constant in his life?

His phone sat on the coffee table, the screen lighting up with unanswered texts he had sent throughout the night. He had called her twenty-seven times—each one going to voicemail.

By morning, the bags under his eyes were heavy, his chest aching as if he’d been physically hit. He stared at his phone, scrolling through their old messages. He read her texts from the last few weeks, the ones he had brushed off or responded to half-heartedly.

Y/N: Good luck today! Call me after, okay? ❤️ Y/N: Hey, are you alright? You seemed off earlier. I’m here if you need to talk. Y/N: I miss you, Lando.

He clenched his jaw, tears blurring his vision. He had been so blind, so caught up in everything else that he hadn’t realized how much she had been hurting.

He hit her contact again, pressing the phone to his ear.

Ring… ring…

“Hey, it’s Y/N. Leave a message.”

The beep sounded, and his voice cracked as he spoke. “Y/N, please. Just… please call me back. I know I messed up, okay? I know I hurt you. But I can’t— I can’t do this without you. I need to know you’re safe. Just… let me know you’re okay. Please.”

He ended the call, his hands shaking as he set the phone down.

By the second day, his panic had reached a breaking point. She hadn’t been to their place, hadn’t responded to any of his messages, and her social media was silent. He sat on the edge of their bed—the bed that still smelled faintly of her perfume—and buried his face in his hands.

The phone rang in his hand, but it wasn’t her. It was Max.

“Mate, are you okay?” Max’s voice was cautious.

“No, I’m not okay!” Lando snapped, his voice breaking. “She’s not answering, Max. She’s not answering, and I don’t know where she is, and I don’t know if she’s okay.”

“Have you tried her friends? Her family?”

“I don’t want to drag them into this,” Lando said, wiping at his face. “This is my fault. I need to fix it.”

“You can’t fix anything if you break yourself in the process,” Max said gently. “Just give her time.”

“I don’t have time, Max!” Lando shouted. “What if she thinks I don’t love her? What if she thinks I meant it when I said we needed a break?”

“Didn’t you?”

The question made him pause, his breath hitching. “No. God, no. I was angry. I was frustrated. I didn’t mean any of it.”

“Then tell her that. Keep trying. She loves you, Lando.”

Lando nodded even though Max couldn’t see him. “She did. I don’t know if she does anymore.”

That night was worse than the first. Lando sat on the couch, his head in his hands, the silence of their apartment a cruel reminder of what he had lost. He picked up his phone and called her again.

Ring… ring… beep.

“Y/N,” he choked out, his voice shaking. “Please. Please pick up. I’m losing my mind over here. I don’t know where you are, and I’m scared. I’m scared I’ve lost you, and I can’t—” His voice broke, a sob escaping him. “I can’t lose you. I love you. I love you so much. I don’t care about the fight, I don’t care about anything but you. Just… just come home. Or call me. Please, Y/N. I’m begging you.”

He hung up, his shoulders shaking as he buried his face in his hands. For the first time in years, Lando Norris cried. He cried for the girl who had been by his side since they were teenagers, the girl he had built a life with, the girl he had pushed away.

And he cried for the possibility that he might never hear her voice again.

--

The doorbell rang, and Lando’s heart skipped a beat, though he couldn’t explain why. He wasn’t expecting anyone. It was too early for anyone to check in on him.

But when he opened the door, there stood Carlos Sainz, a look of concern etched on his face. His eyes softened when he saw Lando, but there was a quiet tension in his posture.

“Carlos…” Lando started, his voice hoarse from the sleepless nights.

Carlos looked at him, his jaw tightening. “I’m here to grab some of Y/N’s things.”

Lando stepped back, letting Carlos in. His apartment felt emptier than it ever had before, each room echoing with the absence of Y/N’s warmth. Carlos entered, his gaze scanning the space, lingering on the couch where they had spent so many nights together, the kitchen counter where they’d cooked meals, the small details that once made the place feel like a home.

“You’re really going through with this, huh?” Carlos asked quietly, his voice laced with disappointment.

Lando swallowed hard, his eyes avoiding Carlos’s. He had never wanted it to come to this. He never thought it would. But now, standing here in the emptiness of the apartment, the reality of the situation hit him harder than ever.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Lando muttered, his hands shaking. “I didn’t mean to push her away, Carlos. But she… she wouldn’t talk to me. She just… she left. She hasn’t even answered my calls.”

Carlos shook his head, his face hardening with frustration. “You don’t get it, do you, Lando?”

Lando looked up, surprised by the venom in Carlos’s tone. “What do you mean?”

“She’s my childhood friend, man,” Carlos snapped, his voice rising. “I’ve known her since we were kids. I’ve seen her go through everything, and I’ve watched her give you everything, and you—you—treated her like this? Like she’s disposable?”

Lando’s chest tightened at the accusation, but Carlos wasn’t done.

“I’ve seen the way she looks at you, how much she cares for you,” Carlos continued, his voice breaking as he ran a hand through his hair. “And you—you—just pushed her away like she was nothing. Like she wasn’t the person who was always there for you, who stuck by your side through everything, through all your races, all your highs and lows.”

Lando’s heart sank. He could feel the weight of Carlos’s words sinking deep into him. He knew he had screwed up, but hearing it like this—coming from someone who knew Y/N like Carlos did—made him realize just how badly he had messed up.

“I didn’t mean for her to think she wasn’t enough,” Lando whispered, his voice barely audible. “I love her. I always have. I just… I don’t know what happened. I was frustrated, and I said things I didn’t mean. I didn’t want to hurt her, Carlos. I swear to you.”

Carlos’s gaze softened, but his disappointment was still evident. He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. “You hurt her, Lando. And now, you have to fix it. But she’s not just going to come back because you say sorry. You’re going to have to fight for her. And honestly, I don’t know if you’re ready to do that.”

Lando looked down at the floor, tears welling up in his eyes as the guilt hit him full force. He knew Carlos was right.

Carlos reached for the duffel bag by the door, picking it up and unzipping it. “I’m just getting her stuff. I told her I’d bring it by. But you…” He paused, looking Lando in the eye, his voice quiet but firm. “You need to think long and hard about what you want. And if you want her back, you need to prove it. Because right now? You don’t deserve her. Not after what you did.”

Lando felt his heart crack at the truth in Carlos’s words, and his voice trembled as he whispered, “I know.”

Carlos hesitated for a moment, then turned and grabbed a few of Y/N’s things from the shelf, placing them into the bag. He looked back at Lando one last time before heading for the door.

“You’ll figure it out, mate,” Carlos said quietly, his voice softer now. “But you’d better start trying, and fast. She won’t wait forever.”

Lando nodded, unable to say anything. He was already too choked up, the weight of the past few days crashing down on him.

Carlos walked out the door, leaving Lando standing there, broken and alone.

Lando stared at the door for a long time after Carlos left, his thoughts swirling, the pain of losing Y/N gnawing at him from the inside out. He needed her. He couldn’t live without her. But the real question was—would she still want him when he finally realized just how much she meant to him?

And how could he prove to her that he was worthy of a second chance?

--

It had been a week since she left. A week of silence. A week of empty calls and unanswered messages. A week of Lando spiraling, his world without her a place he didn’t recognize anymore.

Now, here he was—sitting on the couch, waiting. He knew she would come back at some point. Y/N never stayed away for too long. But the anxiety had eaten away at him, each passing day a reminder of how badly he had screwed up.

The door opened, and he could hear the soft click of her heels on the hardwood floor. His heart skipped a beat, but when he looked up, his breath hitched in his throat.

Y/N was standing there, her back straight, her face expressionless. In her hands was a suitcase—half-filled.

She was packing.

“Y/N…” Lando’s voice broke as he stood up. His chest was tight, his hands trembling slightly. “What… what are you doing?”

Y/N didn’t answer. She simply moved past him and into their bedroom, not sparing him a glance. Lando’s stomach twisted.

“Please, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. He followed her to the bedroom, his eyes not leaving her. “Please, don’t do this. We can fix this. We can talk.”

She didn’t respond, not even a flicker of acknowledgment. It was like he wasn’t even there.

Lando stood by the door, frozen. He watched as Y/N picked up clothes from their closet and threw them into the suitcase without a single word. Each piece she grabbed felt like another piece of his heart being ripped away, like she was disappearing right before his eyes.

“Y/N, please… talk to me.” His voice shook with desperation, but she still said nothing.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he stepped closer, his chest tightening with the fear that she was really going to leave.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know I hurt you. I know I was a mess. I should’ve been better. I should have been better for you. I shouldn’t have said those things, and I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I was angry, and I didn’t know how to handle it, but I swear to you… I swear I love you. I always have. And I need you. Please, please don’t leave me.”

Y/N didn’t stop packing. She moved mechanically, and the silence between them felt suffocating.

“I was scared,” Lando continued, his voice growing quieter, more raw. “I was scared that I wasn’t enough for you. That one day, you’d realize you deserve someone better than me. And I pushed you away because I didn’t know how to let you in. But I do love you. I do. And I’ll do anything to prove it to you. Anything.”

She picked up another piece of clothing, folding it with such precision that it made Lando’s heart shatter.

“No, no, no…” Lando whispered, panic rising in his chest. “Please, Y/N. Don’t do this. Please, I can’t lose you. I know I’ve been an idiot. I know I hurt you. But you are my heart, and I can’t let you walk out of that door without knowing how much I need you. Without you, I’m nothing.”

He was shaking now, the weight of his words settling into the pit of his stomach. His voice was barely above a whisper, thick with emotion.

“I can’t breathe without you,” he choked out, his eyes glossy with tears. “I’ve been waking up every day wondering how I could have been so stupid, so selfish. But all I know is that I love you. I need you. And I don’t want to spend another day without you in my life. So, please… please don’t leave me. I’ll fix it. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. Just… don’t walk out that door. Please, don’t leave me alone.”

The words hung in the air, and for a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of her folding clothes and his heavy breathing.

Finally, Y/N stopped moving. She didn’t turn to face him, but her shoulders trembled, and Lando could feel the weight of the silence press against him.

“I know you’re angry,” Lando continued softly, his voice breaking. “And I understand that. But I can’t lose you. I can’t lose the one person who knows me better than anyone. The one person who loves me no matter what. You’ve been my constant, Y/N. And I don’t deserve you, but I’ll do everything to show you that I want to be better. For you. I’ll be better, just… don’t leave.”

There was a long silence. Then, almost imperceptibly, Y/N set down the last piece of clothing in the suitcase and turned to face him. Her eyes were glossy, but she said nothing.

Lando took a step closer, his heart pounding in his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done. But I can’t imagine my life without you. You’ve always been my best friend. You’ve always been there for me. I don’t deserve you, but please… please don’t walk away. I need you more than anything.”

And that was when Y/N finally broke.

A single tear slid down her cheek as she looked up at him, her eyes full of so much pain that it shattered him.

“You hurt me, Lando,” she whispered, her voice small but raw. “You hurt me so badly. I don’t know if I can just forget that. I don’t know if I can go back to what we were. But I…” She choked on the words. “I love you, too. I just… I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

Lando’s breath hitched. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t.

“I swear, I’ll never hurt you again,” he promised, his voice full of sincerity. “Please… let me show you. Let me prove it to you.”

Y/N wiped her eyes, still unsure, but there was something in Lando’s eyes that made her pause. Something raw. Something that made her think—maybe this wasn’t the end.

“I don’t know if I can just forget what happened,” Y/N said, her voice shaky. “But I do want to try again. I want to believe you, Lando. I want to believe that we can fix this.”

Lando’s heart soared as he rushed to her side, pulling her into a tight embrace.

“I swear, I’ll spend every single day proving it to you,” he whispered into her hair, his tears falling freely now. “I’ll make it right. I’ll never take you for granted again. I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

And for the first time in days, she let herself breathe. She hugged him back, the warmth of their embrace a promise that maybe—just maybe—they could get through this together.

It wasn’t perfect. But they had each other. And that was all that mattered.

--

It had been a few days since everything had fallen into place. Y/N and Lando were slowly rebuilding their bond, piece by piece, and while the tension between them had melted, something was still different. The scars of the fight remained, but Y/N wasn’t thinking about it anymore. The past was behind them. She was focused on the present.

But Lando? Lando still couldn’t shake the feeling that any moment, she might walk out again. It wasn’t that Y/N had given him a reason to doubt her, but the guilt gnawed at him constantly. He had hurt her so deeply, and no matter how many times she reassured him, the fear lingered. What if one day, she grew tired of him? What if he wasn’t enough for her?

Tonight was supposed to be just another quiet night in. Lando had arranged a cozy dinner, hoping to make her smile, to show her how much he loved her. He’d gone all out, buying a fancy dress he thought she’d look amazing in. Maybe, just maybe, if he gave her something beautiful, he could make up for the ugliness of the past.

When Y/N walked into their living room, he was holding the dress in his hands, eyes brimming with hope.

“Lando,” she smiled softly, as she entered, sensing the warmth in the air. “What’s this?”

“Just—just something for you,” he said, a little shy, as he handed her the dress. “I know it’s a bit much, but I thought… well, you’d look incredible in it.”

Y/N laughed, though there was something oddly sweet and bittersweet in her eyes. She looked up at him, still feeling the remnants of their past conversation, yet no longer letting it weigh on her.

She took the dress from his hands and examined it, grinning at the fabric.

“You really don’t have to do this,” she said, her tone playful but tender. “I’m happy just being here with you.”

Lando felt his heart race. He wanted to keep proving himself, to show her how sorry he was. But deep down, his insecurities kept churning. What if this wasn’t enough? What if it wasn’t going to be enough?

Y/N noticed the flicker of unease in his eyes. She stepped closer, putting the dress down on the couch.

“Lando…” she began, her voice soft but firm. “You don’t need to keep doing this. You don’t need to keep going all out just to make me happy. You don’t need to prove anything.”

Lando froze, the words hanging in the air, yet it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him.

“But I want to,” he said quietly, as though trying to explain the reason behind his actions, his voice trembling. “I need to make it up to you, Y/N. You deserve so much better than how I treated you.” His voice cracked with emotion. “I don’t know how to fix it. But I need to make it right.”

Y/N’s heart ached, seeing how much he was carrying. She stepped forward, reaching for his hand, but his nerves kept him at arm's length.

“Lando, I’ve already forgiven you. I don’t need grand gestures or endless apologies. I just need you,” she said, her voice steady and full of love. “I want you. Just the way you are.”

Lando looked up, but the pain and doubt still clouded his eyes. He shook his head, feeling as though he could never do enough to atone for the way he had hurt her.

“No, I don’t deserve you,” Lando whispered, his voice barely above a sob. “I’ve been an idiot. I hurt you, and I don’t know how to forgive myself. Every time I see you, I feel like I’m not enough. That one day, you’ll leave. And I—”

Before he could finish, Y/N launched herself into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and she buried her face into his neck.

“Stop,” she whispered softly, her hands gently brushing his hair. “You’re my baby, Lando. I’m not going anywhere. I love you. Don’t you see that?”

Lando froze for a moment, his whole body tensing as her words hit him like a wave. Her voice was so tender, so sure, that it broke through the wall of self-doubt he had built around himself. He didn’t know why he had been so scared.

“I need you to stop thinking I’m going to leave,” she continued, her voice firm and comforting at the same time. “You’re my home. You always have been. I’m not going anywhere, Lando. I love you so much, it hurts. So, please, stop trying so hard.”

Lando’s heart melted in her arms as he clung to her, desperate to make sense of everything he had been feeling. “But I hurt you, Y/N. I hurt you so badly. I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Y/N tilted his face to look at her, her fingers gently wiping away his tears. “We’re fixing it, Lando. We’re here. Together.” Her voice softened even further. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re my world. You’ve always been. And nothing’s going to change that.”

Lando’s breath hitched as he buried his face in her hair, holding her tighter, like if he let go for even a second, she might disappear again.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against her skin, the words a soft plea in the air. “I promise, I’ll do better. I’ll be better for you. I swear.”

Y/N laughed, the sound like music to his ears, and pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. “You don’t have to be perfect, Lando. You just need to be you. And that’s more than enough for me.”

Lando looked at her with a mixture of love and relief in his eyes, finally feeling like he could breathe again.

She smiled, her hands cupping his face gently. “You’re mine, Lando. Forever. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry for ever making you doubt that.”

Y/N kissed him softly, then pulled back just a little, her smile soft and content. “I love you, too, Lando. Always.”

And for the first time in days, Lando believed it. He believed in them. He believed in her. And as he held her close, he finally let go of the fear that had gripped him for so long. She wasn’t leaving. They were in this together.

Forever.

[its-avalon-08]

I don't know if you're taking requests, but can you do something where the reader and Lando broke up after they had a stupid fight about where readerfeels they haven't spent any time together so lando tells her to leave in a fit of rage. (One Lando regrets and is very sad. Sad boy.) And a few weeks later reader gets into a accident and the hospital calls him because he's next of kin when they were dating and when he gets there he's freaked and the doctors surprises him by saying the baby's fine, but reader tells lando that he has to be there for them both thats why she didn't tell him because she didn't want her baby to feel second best. Happy ending, though, please. I'm sorry if that's long.

never enough (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, break up

The tension in the room was suffocating, every word between them cutting deeper than the last. Y/N stood near the dining table, her arms crossed, her face a mixture of frustration and heartbreak. Lando sat on the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair.

“You don’t even try anymore, Lando!” Y/N’s voice cracked as she spoke, but her words were sharp. “I can’t remember the last time you actually looked at me like I mattered to you. Do you even care?”

His head snapped up, his eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare say that, Y/N. Don’t you dare act like I don’t care. I’m doing my best here!”

“Your best?” she scoffed, her tone bitter. “Your best is spending every waking moment either at the track, with the team, or in your own world. You’re never here. Not really.”

Lando stood abruptly, the movement startling. “I’m sorry that I have a career that demands everything from me! What do you want me to do? Quit? Give it all up just to sit here and hold your hand?”

“That’s not what I’m asking for, and you know it!” Y/N fired back, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. “I’m asking for you to make time for me. For us. But I’m always the one waiting, always the one begging for scraps of your attention. I can’t keep doing this, Lando. I feel like I’m not even a priority anymore!”

His fists clenched at his sides, his voice rising as frustration overtook him. “And I feel like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you! I’m stretched thin, Y/N! I don’t know what else you want from me!”

“I want you to act like you actually love me!” she shouted, tears now streaming down her face. “Like I’m more than just someone waiting for you at home!”

“Fine!” he yelled, his voice thunderous in the quiet room. “If I’m so terrible—if being with me is such a burden—then maybe you should just leave!”

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, and Y/N froze, staring at him as if he had just struck her. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Leave,” Lando said again, though his voice was quieter now, the anger giving way to something more hollow. “If this isn’t enough for you, then just...go.”

Her breath hitched, the weight of his words crashing down on her. She shook her head, her voice trembling. “You don’t mean that.”

“Maybe I do,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed the regret already forming in his chest.

Y/N’s hands trembled as she grabbed her bag from the chair, slinging it over her shoulder. “You’ll regret this,” she said quietly, her voice breaking on the last word.

He didn’t respond, his silence cutting deeper than any argument could have.

And when the door slammed shut behind her, the emptiness it left behind was deafening.

-- time skip --

It had been weeks since Y/N left, and the emptiness in Lando’s flat mirrored the hollow ache in his chest. The regret weighed heavily on him, an unrelenting reminder of what he had lost. He tried to focus on racing, to bury himself in work, but it only made the silence louder.

Every room held memories of her—the scent of her perfume lingering in the air, the mug she always used sitting untouched on the kitchen counter. He stared at it now, running his thumb over the rim, a pang of guilt twisting his stomach.

"I���m sorry," he whispered to the empty room, though he knew it was far too late.

His phone buzzed on the counter, jolting him from his thoughts. The screen lit up with an unknown number. Frowning, he picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mr. Norris?" a calm but urgent voice asked.

"Yes, this is Lando Norris," he replied, his chest tightening with unease.

"This is St. Thomas’ Hospital. You’re listed as the emergency contact for Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been in an accident."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. "What? An accident? Is she okay?" His voice cracked as panic surged through him.

"She’s stable, but you need to come down to the hospital immediately."

Lando didn’t think twice. Grabbing his keys, he bolted out the door, his heart pounding in his chest. The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity, every possible worst-case scenario playing in his mind.

At the Hospital

He burst through the hospital doors, scanning for the reception desk. "Y/N Y/L/N," he said breathlessly. "She was in an accident. Where is she?"

The nurse directed him to a room, and he practically sprinted down the hall. When he reached her room, he froze in the doorway.

Y/N was lying in the hospital bed, her face pale and a bandage on her forehead. But she was awake, her eyes widening when they landed on him.

"Lando?" she asked, her voice faint.

"I’m here," he said, stepping inside. His voice trembled as he approached her. "God, Y/N, are you okay? They told me about the accident—"

"I’m fine," she interrupted gently, though her voice was tired. "Just a few bruises and stitches."

Before he could respond, a doctor walked in, holding a clipboard.

"Ah, Mr. Norris, I’m glad you’re here," the doctor said with a kind smile.

"Is she okay? What happened?" Lando asked, his panic bubbling to the surface again.

"She’s stable, and the baby is fine as well," the doctor replied casually.

Lando blinked, the words not registering at first. "The baby?"

Y/N closed her eyes, exhaling deeply.

The doctor, sensing the tension, quickly excused herself.

Lando stared at Y/N, his mind racing. "You’re pregnant?"

"Yes," she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the blanket covering her legs.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" he asked, his voice breaking.

She finally looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears. "Because I couldn’t do this alone with you half in and half out of our lives, Lando. I needed to know you’d be there. Not just physically, but really there. For me and for this baby. I didn’t want my child to feel like a second choice."

"Second choice?" he repeated, his voice filled with anguish. "Y/N, I’ve made so many mistakes, but loving you was never one of them. I was stupid, I was selfish, and I pushed you away because I didn’t know how to balance everything. But this? This is everything. You and our baby are everything."

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she listened to his words. "Lando, I can’t do this if I’m going to be fighting for your attention. Our child deserves better than that."

He moved closer, kneeling by her bed and taking her hand in his. "You won’t have to fight anymore, Y/N. I promise. I’ll be there for you and for our baby. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you. Just—just don’t shut me out."

Her lip trembled as she stared into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. "I need you to mean that, Lando. Not just for me, but for them."

"I do," he said firmly, his voice steady despite the tears pooling in his eyes. "I’ll be there for both of you, every step of the way."

After a long pause, she nodded, her grip on his hand tightening slightly. "Okay. But you get one chance, Lando. Don’t waste it."

"I won’t," he vowed, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

For the first time in weeks, a sense of hope filled the room. It wasn’t going to be easy, but together, they could make it work.

time skip

Months later, Lando stood in a nursery he had painted himself, his hand resting on Y/N’s bump as they admired the crib he’d built.

"You really went all out, didn’t you?" she teased, smiling up at him.

"Nothing but the best for our baby," he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Y/N smiled softly, her heart full as she rested her head against his shoulder. Maybe they had started rocky, but in this moment, she knew they were exactly where they were meant to be.

[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) p18

chapter 18: voices got loud

series masterlist

The adrenaline from the race had finally started to ebb, leaving behind a strange emptiness. Y/N sat alone by the Red Bull garage, the trophy for the race winner gleaming in the fading sunlight. A quiet sense of victory mingled with a lingering unease. She had won, but at what cost?

Nico, his face etched with concern, approached her. He settled down beside her, his presence a comforting presence. "Schatz," he began, his voice gentle, "you did well out there. That was a fantastic drive."

Y/N nodded, her gaze fixed on the trophy. "Thanks, Nico."

A long silence followed. Then, Nico broke the silence, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment. "But that move on Lewis… it was unnecessary. You were fast, faster than him, but you didn't have to push him off the track."

Y/N stiffened. "Nico, I was racing. It was a hard move, but it was fair."

Nico shook his head. "Fair? You pushed him out. You could have caused a serious accident."

Y/N's eyes flashed with anger. "So? He's done the same thing to me countless times. He's pushed me off the track, he's ruined my races. Now, it's my turn."

Nico sighed, a look of frustration crossing his face. "That's not the point, Y/N. You're better than that. You don't need to stoop to his level."

Y/N scoffed. "Don't lecture me about sportsmanship, Nico. You and Lewis were the masters of dirty tactics. You pushed each other to the brink, and sometimes, beyond."

Nico's face turned a shade of crimson. "But that's different," he stammered, his voice barely audible. "We were… we were different."

Y/N scoffed, her eyes narrowing. "Different how? You were two drivers, fighting for the same goal. And you both crossed lines, just like I did today."

Nico was speechless. He couldn't deny the truth in her words. He and Lewis had engaged in their fair share of ruthless tactics, pushing the boundaries of fair play.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes. "You guys did this to each other," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You ruined your friendship, all for the sake of winning. And now, you're judging me for doing the same thing?"

Nico reached out to comfort her, but Y/N pulled away. "Leave me alone," she muttered, wiping away her tears.

She turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing in the fading light. Nico watched her go, a wave of guilt washing over him. He had judged her harshly, forgetting the pain and frustration that had fueled her actions.

As he sat there, alone with his thoughts, he realized that perhaps he and Lewis were not so different after all. They were both victims of the cutthroat world of Formula 1, trapped in a cycle of rivalry and revenge.

time skip

Y/N hesitantly opened her phone, dreading the onslaught of notifications. As she scrolled through her social media feeds, her heart sank. The once celebratory comments had turned into a torrent of hate and vitriol.

Twitter:

"Y/N Rosberg? More like Y/N Reckless! Disgraceful display of sportsmanship. #Shameful"

"Unbelievable! How could she do that to Lewis? She's a disgrace to the sport. #Disappointed"

"Y/N should be banned! That was a dangerous and reckless move. #DangerousDriver"

Instagram:

Comment 1: "What a dirty move! I'm so disappointed in Y/N. She's ruined her reputation."

Comment 2: "Y/N should be ashamed of herself. She's a disgrace to women in motorsport."

Comment 3: "Lewis deserved better. Y/N should be get a penalty for that."

Y/N's eyes scanned the hateful comments, a wave of nausea washing over her. The once-celebrated victory now tasted bitter, tainted by the backlash. She scrolled through more comments, each one more hurtful than the last.

"She's just like her brother. Always causing trouble."

"Another Rosberg ruining the sport."

"She should be ashamed of herself. A disgrace to the sport."

The comments were relentless, each one a stinging rebuke. Y/N felt a lump forming in her throat, tears threatening to spill over. She had never imagined the backlash would be so intense. She had pushed the boundaries, yes, but she had never intended to cause harm.

The weight of the online hate was crushing. She felt isolated, misunderstood, and alone. As she scrolled through the endless stream of negativity, she couldn't help but wonder if she had made a mistake.

time skip

The paddock was tense, the air thick with unspoken words. Y/N, her spirit dampened by the online vitriol, moved through the crowd, her gaze fixed on the ground. She spotted Lewis sitting alone at a table, his expression grim.

Taking a deep breath, she approached him, a tentative smile on her face. "Lewis," she began, "I wanted to talk to you about the other day."

Lewis barely acknowledged her presence, his eyes glued to his phone. "What is it, Y/N?" he asked, his tone devoid of warmth.

"I'm sorry about what happened," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I didn't mean to cause any harm."

Lewis raised an eyebrow, a dismissive look in his eyes. "Oh, really? Because that looked pretty intentional to me."

Y/N's heart sank. She had hoped to apologize, to bridge the gap between them, but his coldness was a harsh reality check.

"I was just trying to win," she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

"At any cost?" Lewis retorted, his voice sharp. "That's not how we do things."

Y/N felt a wave of frustration wash over her. She had tried to reach out, to apologize, but he was determined to hold onto his anger. With a heavy sigh, she turned away, defeated.

Meanwhile, Max, sensing the tension, approached Y/N, his arm draped casually around her shoulder. "Hey, Y/N, you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "Don't let those online trolls get to you."

Y/N forced a smile. "I'm fine, Max. Just a bit tired."

"You sure about that?" Max raised an eyebrow. "You look like you could use a hug."

Y/N chuckled, but her eyes betrayed her sadness. "Thanks, Max. I appreciate it."

Max nodded, his gaze shifting to Lewis, who was deep in conversation with Charles Leclerc. "Don't worry about him," Max whispered to Y/N. "He's just being a drama queen."

Y/N smiled weakly, but the pain in her heart persisted. She couldn't understand why Lewis was being so hostile. They had been friends once, hadn't they?

The days that followed were a blur of awkward encounters and tense interactions. Lewis avoided Y/N whenever possible, his cold demeanor a stark contrast to his usual charm. Y/N, meanwhile, struggled to cope with the public backlash and the strain on her friendship with Lewis.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice session, Y/N found herself alone in the team garage. She was lost in thought, her mind replaying the events of the past few days.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted her reverie. "You know, you could try apologizing," Lewis said, his voice barely a whisper.

Y/N looked up, surprised. "I already did," she replied, her voice tight.

Lewis shook his head. "No, not like that. Not with that attitude. You need to mean it."

Y/N's eyes widened. "What do you want me to do? Get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness?"

Lewis sighed, his frustration evident. "No, just… just own up to it. Admit that you went too far."

Y/N stared at him for a long moment, then turned away. "I'm not going to apologize for winning," she said, her voice firm. "I did what I had to do."

With that, she walked away, leaving Lewis alone with his thoughts. He knew he had pushed her too far, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she had crossed a line. The tension between them was palpable, a silent battle raging beneath the surface.

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 , @xoscar03 , @torossosebs , @jajouska , @lindsayjoy444 , @barcelonaloverf1life , @charli123456789, @heyheyheyggg

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

leave a like! leave a comment! reblogs are appreciated!

[its-avalon-08]

hi! do you have any fics for daniel in the works? :)

NEW FICS INCOMING ON SATURDAY FOR DR3 !

thank you for being so patient!

[its-avalon-08]

What is up with angst epidemic 😭 is it the colder weather or something

Why do ppl want to hurt themselves🙂‍↕️ I don’t get it

I will always love a good fluffy feel good fic

Life is too angsty as is guys

HAHAHAHAH THIS!

[its-avalon-08]

I sincerely hope i’m not being annoying when asking. But when will you update Hearts Intertwined? Don’t feel bad,m; I understand writers block and how life can get in the way. Just curious is all 🥺 Hope you’re doing okay

omg ur so sweet love!

i've been super busy but new updates this week!!

thank you for your lovely message!!

[its-avalon-08]

Hiii I hope you’re doing good🫶 I was wondering if you’re going to update the Lewis story soon

hello!!! new updates this week, sorry for the inactivity!!

[its-avalon-08]

( main masterlist \ navigation )

★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ★ : key :: (f) fluff; (a) angst; (c) comfort; (h) humor; (m) mature/mentions of sex

crack

- when f1 drivers dirty text you (h, m) (and you pretend your dad answers)

- f1 drivers reacting to 'I'm pregnant' texts (h) - f1 drivers reacting to 'I know you’re cheating' texts (h)

- when f1 drivers drunk text you (h)

- when you drunk text f1 drivers (h, m)

- f1 drivers reacting to 'if I was a worm?' texts (h)

- cheating prank on f1 drivers (h, m)

- meeting your f1 driver's ex (h)

- jealous f1 driver boyfriend texts (h, m)

- f1 drivers' dirty texts (h, m)

- when fans ship you with the wrong f1 driver (h, m)

- simping for another driver in front of your f1 boyfriend (h, m)

- accidentally sending your nudes; pre dating (h, M)

- is your f1 boyfriend up for a threesome? (h, m)

- texting your f1 boyfriend 'i killed someone' (h)

- how your f1 boyfriend reacts to cheating rumors (f, c)

- texting your f1 boyfriend when you're ovulating (m, h)

- f1 drivers reacting to 'i need pads' texts (h, m)

- calling your f1 boyfriend 'daddy' (m, h)

- when you provoke your f1 bestfriend (h)

- does your f1 boyfriend want kids? (h, m)

- when you get hurt physically (h)

- sending nudes to your f1 boyfriend unprovoked (h, M)

- telling your f1 boyfriend that you faked an orgasm (h, M) (+ george russell)

- flirting with your f1 boyfriend through an unknown number (prank gone wrong)

- your f1 boyfriend is dating another driver? (h)

- making your f1 fuck buddy jealous (h)

- asking your f1 boyfriend 'tits or ass' (h, m)

- when your f1 boyfriend finds your "toys" (h, m)

- when your f1 boyfriend dream cheats (c. h)

- picking a fight with your f1 boyfriend because you're horny (h, m)

- giving your f1 boyfriend a boner in public (h, m)

- mutual down bad with your f1 boyfriend

- f1 drivers group chat [post monza gp]

- f1 drivers getting worked up over an instagram post

- calling your f1 boyfriend "bro"

- lying to your f1 boyfriend for a bouquet

- f1!boyfriends with jealous partner

- will your f1 boyfriend beg to get their way?

- when your f1 boyfriend finishes before you

- fake texts to make your f1 boyfriend jealous

- reacting to comments thirsting over your f1 boyfriend

- f1!boyfriends when you win a game as a beginner

- texting f1 drivers the morning after, thinking it's your bestfriend

angst

- when you get jealous; pre-dating (+f)

- giving them silent treatment

- jealous texting f1 drivers

- when your f1 boyfriend cheats on you (+ george russell)

- f1 drivers forgetting their anniversaries (1/4) - being cold to your f1 boyfriend (2/4) - f1!drivers when their relationship is almost over (3/4)

- you were dared to date your f1 boyfriend?

- 'we need a break' with f1 drivers (+h)

- when your boyfriend leaves after a fight

- your f1 boyfriend can't move on after you pass away

song fics

- what if I told you I'm a mastermind? and now you're mine (f, h)

- boyfriend texts masterlist (h, m) (driver x reader; poly x reader)

- brother's best friend texts masterlist (a, f, c, h, m) (driver x reader)

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.