kathlare

[kathlare]

Hii!! Can we please get some Lando and Amelie vacation content 🫶🏻 with smut pleaseee

Hii!! Your timing is perfect—the first part of the summer break in Ibiza is finally up, and yes, it has all the Lando and Amelie smut you were hoping for 🫶🏻. I hope you enjoy it, and if anyone has more requests for this summer break, I’m always open! Thank you for reading and all the love.

mile high club

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie and Lando spend time together on a private trip, navigating quiet moments, playful tension, and the closeness that defines their bond.

Wordcount: 7.1 k

Warnings: smut

full masterlist // request over here!

August 7th, 2025 - London, United Kingdom

The soft London evening was cool against Lando’s skin as he unlocked the door to the apartment he and Amelie kind of shared—half his, half hers, all theirs. He carried a small paper bag from the local takeaway, the aroma of spicy noodles and garlic prawns already making his stomach rumble.

The hallway was quiet, the lights off except for the warm glow spilling out from the bedroom at the far end. He dropped the bag on the kitchen table and stepped inside, Benny instantly padding over, tail high and rubbing against his legs.

—Hey, little guy,— Lando smiled, bending down to scoop Benny into his arms. —Where’s mommy?—

Benny meowed softly, purring against his chest, then slipped from his hold and trotted toward the bedroom, his little paws clicking on the wooden floor.

Lando followed, curiosity and a touch of excitement quickening his pace.

When he reached the bedroom doorway, his breath caught.

The bedroom was a beautiful mess—a suitcase lay half-open on the bed, its contents spilling over in a chaotic pile of summer clothes, swimwear, and the inevitable mountain of shopping bags scattered everywhere. Björn, with his signature disdainful expression, was perched atop a heap of fabric, flicking his tail like a tiny monarch surveying his disorganized kingdom.

And there was Amelie.

She stood near the window, holding up a delicate dress against her body, turning slowly to see if it fit just right. The soft light caught the shimmer of the fabric, and for a moment, Lando just watched her. The way her hair fell across her shoulders, the quiet concentration on her face—it all hit him like a breath of home.

—Hey, Ames,— he said softly, stepping inside and setting the takeout on the bedside table.

She glanced over her shoulder, eyes brightening with a smile. —Lan, you’re home just in time to judge my entire wardrobe disaster.—

Lando chuckled, walking over to the suitcase. —Are you sure we’re only going for two weeks? Looks like you’re moving in for good.—

Amelie shot him a playful glare, holding the dress out to him. —I like options. Don’t act like you wouldn’t appreciate it.—

He grinned and stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. She leaned back into him, and he nuzzled the side of her neck.

—Mmm, I do appreciate it,— he murmured, his lips brushing her skin before starting to trail slower, firmer kisses down the curve of her neck. His hands slid lower, fingers ghosting over the fabric of the dress, until he started to lift the hem, palms warm against her thighs.

Amelie let out a quiet laugh and turned in his arms, pressing her fingers to his jaw to guide his mouth to hers. The kiss was soft, lingering, just enough to make his pulse trip over itself… before she pulled back with a smirk.

—We are not having sex right now, Lan. We need to finish packing.—

—You’re cruel,— he groaned, letting his forehead drop dramatically to her shoulder. When she nudged him toward the suitcase, he flopped backward onto the bed in defeat. —Fine. I’ll just waste away here while you prance around in tiny outfits without me touching you.—

Amelie rolled her eyes, tugging at his hand. —Get up, Norris. You’re helping me, whether you like it or not.—

—Helping?— He let her pull him halfway upright but still sprawled like he’d lost the will to live. —Feels more like torture.—

—Lan, if you keep whining, I’ll make you pack your own stuff.— She arched a brow, the challenge in her voice enough to finally get him moving.

—Fine, fine…— he muttered, dragging himself off the bed like a man on death row. —But only because I want to supervise what you’re bringing.—

—Supervise?— she scoffed, digging into one of the shopping bags. —You mean stare.

—Same thing,— he said with a grin, leaning against the wardrobe.

Amelie slipped behind the bedpost, pulling out a white bikini and holding it up against her. —Ibiza appropriate?

Lando’s jaw dropped slightly. —That’s… illegal. You’re not wearing that unless I’m glued to your side the entire trip.—

She laughed, tossing the bikini at him. —It’s a yes then.—

Before he could respond, she was already shimmying into a sundress, then swapping it for a silk slip dress, then a pair of high-waisted shorts with a crop top. Every time she emerged, Lando’s eyes tracked her like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to applaud or beg her to stop.

When she came out in a lacy underwear set—purely, she claimed, to “check if it packed well”—Lando nearly dropped the pile of clothes he’d been folding.

—Ames,— he warned, voice low. —You’re playing with fire here.—

She smirked, pretending to inspect the fit in the mirror. —Just making sure everything looks good for the trip.—

—Yeah, it looks good. Too good. Come here.— He took a step forward, but she quickly turned back toward the suitcase.

—Nope. Packing first. You can sulk later.—

Lando groaned again, running a hand over his face. —I swear you’re doing this on purpose.—

—Of course I am,— she said sweetly, tossing him a pair of her sandals to pack. —Now be useful, Lan. We leave in twelve hours.—

He muttered something under his breath but obeyed, because truth be told, even if she was driving him insane, he loved every second of it—watching her flit around the room, hearing her laugh, feeling like this messy little apartment was exactly where he wanted to be.

And if he had to survive twelve more hours before she finally caved… well, he’d just have to make sure Ibiza was worth the wait.

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gracieabrams replied to your story

gracieabrams: who let u out of bed before noon 😭 ameliedayman: society is cruel gracieabrams: blink twice if lando dragged u out

charles_leclerc replied to your story

charles_leclerc: this is the most dramatic “I woke up early” post I’ve seen ameliedayman: bc it’s life or death charles_leclerc: thoughts & prayers

minniemills replied to your story

minniemills: blue jacket = stolen bf hoodie energy ameliedayman: shhhhhh minniemills: u can’t hide the truth babe

alex_albon replied to your story

alex_albon: matcha at 7am is crazy behaviour ameliedayman: it’s called survival alex_albon: it’s called addiction

elysiadayman replied to your story

elysiadayman: this pic screams “I regret agreeing to this plan” ameliedayman: u have no idea elysiadayman: oh I do. I know lando’s morning person agenda

maxfewtrell replied to your story

maxfewtrell: sunglasses indoors?? who are you hiding from ameliedayman: sunlight. reality. responsibility. maxfewtrell: valid

stelladayman replied to your story

stelladayman: ur not even awake in this photo ameliedayman: i wasn’t stelladayman: iconic

georgerussell63 replied to your story

georgerussell63: are u on ur way to a race or a hostage situation ameliedayman: both tbh georgerussell63: blink twice if lando’s forcing coffee on u

danielricciardo replied to your story

danielricciardo: early morning matcha?? who even are you ameliedayman: a shell of a human danielricciardo: lando’s fault 100%

jadenhossler replied to your story

jadenhossler: why do u look like ur on ur 3rd divorce ameliedayman: bc I’ve been awake since 6 jadenhossler: oh yeah that’ll do it

lilymhe replied to your story

lilymhe: girl ur whole aura says “don’t talk to me” ameliedayman: correct. lilymhe: lando better watch his back

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Lando eased the McLaren into the gravel driveway, the crunch under the tires echoing in the still morning air. The sun was just climbing over the hedges, painting the old brick house in warm gold. Amelie’s granddad Bob was already outside, leaning on the garden gate in his cardigan, mug of tea in hand, looking like he’d been there since dawn.

Benny and Björn were in their carriers on the back seat, alternating between regal silence and offended meows.

—Morning, Bob,— Lando called through the open window, grinning.

—You’re late,— Bob replied, deadpan, though the twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away.

—By… three minutes,— Lando laughed, parking beside the hydrangea bush.

Bob’s eyes narrowed. —In my day, three minutes meant you missed the bus, your shift, and the good loaf at the bakery.—

Amelie leaned over from the passenger seat, grinning. —Hi, Grandad.—

His face softened immediately. —Morning, love. Come give your old man a hug.—

They unloaded the cats, Benny trotting straight into the house as soon as the carrier opened, like he owned the place. Björn lingered by the car, giving Bob a long, suspicious stare before allowing himself to be picked up.

—He still doesn’t like me,— Bob muttered, carrying Björn inside.

Amelie stepped inside behind them, the familiar creak of the wooden floor welcoming her back. The scent of old books and lavender lingered in the air—the house still held her grandmother Julie’s presence even though she’d been gone nearly seven months now.

Without a word, Amelie walked straight to the bedroom at the end of the hall, where the big oak wardrobe stood, just like it always had. She opened the door carefully, like stepping into a sacred space.

The closet was a treasure trove of memories: delicate scarves, hand-stitched quilts, and rows of vintage dresses hanging like whispers from the past.

Her fingers skimmed over the fabrics until they paused on a soft, dusty rose silk dress. It was elegant and timeless, the kind of dress her grandmother might have worn to an afternoon tea or a garden party.

Amelie smiled softly and pulled it off the hanger, holding it against herself in the mirror.

Lando appeared quietly behind her, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight of her.

—You look just like her,— he murmured, voice low.

Amelie glanced over her shoulder, a bittersweet smile on her lips.

—I hope that’s a good thing.—

He smiled gently, sliding his hands to rest lightly on her hips. —It is. She was incredible.—

Amelie turned back toward the mirror, smoothing her hands down the silk as if it would tell her whether she had the right to wear it.

—I miss her so much,— she whispered.

Lando’s reflection met hers. —I know, baby.— He leaned in, resting his chin on her shoulder. —You don’t have to put it back, you know. Maybe… bring it to Ibiza. Wear it somewhere special.—

Her lips curved, just barely. —You think so?—

—I know so,— he said, and kissed the side of her head. —She’d love that. You’d be carrying a little bit of her with you.—

Amelie took a deep breath, nodded, and folded the dress carefully over her arm. —Then it’s coming with me.—

They walked back to the living room where Bob was crouched by Benny’s bowl, giving him an unreasonably serious lecture about portion sizes.

—He’ll eat you out of house and home if you’re not careful,— Bob warned, straightening up as Lando entered. —This one’s got no sense of restraint.—

—You’re telling me,— Lando chuckled, pointing at Benny. —Last week he opened the cupboard and stole an entire packet of Dreamies. I’m still not sure how.—

Bob’s eyes twinkled. —Takes after his mum then, eh?— He shot a knowing look at Amelie, who rolled her eyes.

—Grandad!—

Bob shrugged innocently, sipping his tea. —What? I’m just saying she’s always had a sweet tooth… and a knack for trouble.—

Lando grinned. —Explains a lot.—

Amelie swatted his arm. —Okay, you two are not ganging up on me before we even leave.—

Bob pretended to zip his lips, but as Amelie bent to scratch Björn’s chin, he leaned closer to Lando. With the kind of secrecy reserved for black-market deals, he slipped a folded £50 note into Lando’s hand.

—Buy her something nice while you’re away. Jewelry, a dress, I don’t care. Just… something that makes her smile.—

Lando blinked, touched. —Bob, you don’t have to—

—Shut up and take it, lad. I’m an old man, I get to spoil her how I want. Consider it… an investment in keeping her happy.— Bob smirked. —And if you ever make her cry, I’ll take it out of your hide.—

Lando’s laugh was soft, but he pocketed the note with a nod. —Deal.—

—What are you two whispering about?— Amelie asked, eyeing them suspiciously.

—Football,— Bob said instantly.

—Yeah,— Lando agreed with a completely unconvincing grin. —Very… serious football talk.—

Amelie narrowed her eyes but let it go, shaking her head as she scooped Benny into her arms. —You’re both ridiculous.—

Bob leaned down to kiss the top of her head. —Go on, love. Have a good trip. And send me a picture when you wear Julie’s dress. She’d like that.—

Amelie’s smile softened. —I will, Grandad.—

As they headed out toward the car, Lando gave Bob a small wave over his shoulder. Bob returned it with a wink, mouthing, Don’t forget.

And as Lando slid into the driver’s seat, the weight of the folded note in his pocket felt less like money and more like permission—permission to make sure this trip gave Amelie something to hold on to, the way that dress already had.

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liked by chaoticwags, dayman4life, and others

amelieupdates: miss ma’am was spotted at london airport today looking like that while boarding a private jet 👀✈️ we don’t know where she’s headed yet but the suitcase and sunnies scream “somewhere expensive” 💅

View all 73,012 comments

sunshine4lando: this is either a vacation or a “we need to talk” trip 💀 → lanmelie4life: @sunshine4lando don’t say that rn my heart can’t take it

pitstopprincess: the suitcase is giving “monaco for a week” energy → norisimp: @pitstopprincess u mean “monaco forever” if lando gets his way 😏

f1teaspill: if she shows up in the paddock next race just know i called it → chaoticwags: @f1teaspill and if she doesn’t?? → f1teaspill: @chaoticwags then she’s making him suffer for being a lil too sassy

lanmeliewatch: airport fits >>>>>> everything else → softforlando: @lanmeliewatch lando’s probably matching her rn and we’ll never know until pics drop

wifeylan: she’s either flying to monaco or straight to give lando his good luck charm back 😭

paddockchaos: the way she’s walking like she owns the jet… as she should → lanloveclub: @paddockchaos bc she DOES own the jet

lanmeliesupremacy: lando’s probably at the other end of the runway waiting with flowers 💐 → pitcrewfangirl: @lanmeliesupremacy no bc i can SEE IT

fastlanfan: she’s the real drs boost tbh → chaoticwags: @fastlanfan 100% lando saw her in arrivals and immediately shaved off 0.3 seconds in life

tracksidebesties: if lanmelie posts a joint selfie after this we all win → norisimp: @tracksidebesties manifesting HARD rn

lanmelieupdates: she’s either going to see him or he’s already waiting on the jet 👀 → pitstoptea: @lanmelieupdates lando 100% sent the plane like “get on rn” → paddockrat: @pitstoptea man is whipped and we love to see it

norilover22: hungary win ➡️ mysterious london jet trip… the plot thickens → gridgirl13: @norilover22 netflix better be filming bc i need answers

fastlanefan: she prob texted “wyd” and now they’re on a private island by sunset → tracksidebae: @fastlanefan the power she holds

summerlanmelie: ibiza lanmelie is my roman empire → pitstopprincess: @summerlanmelie watch them disappear for 2 weeks and come back glowing and in love → wifeyamelie: @pitstopprincess they already ARE in love bestie

lanmeliefandom: everyone saying they’re fighting but this looks like “see u in 5” vibes to me → chaoticwags: @lanmeliefandom the kind of fight where u end up making out two minutes later

wagsnchampagne: pls they’re literally so married without being married

lanmeliepropaganda: pls they fight cute even if they were fighting

turn1tea: they’re def sneaking off somewhere warm, i feel it in my bones → gridmom: @turn1tea if you manifest hard enough maybe we get yacht pics again

lanmelieupdates: pls tell me she’s on her way to ibiza with lando for summer break 🙏 → wifeyamelie: @lanmelieupdates if they don’t give us yacht pics i’m rioting

paddockbesties: the way i’d sell my soul for lanmelie beach content rn → chaoticwags: @paddockbesties and the tan lines… the TAN LINES → softforlando: @chaoticwags pls stop i can’t breathe

f1snooper: if she’s not going to ibiza i’m filing a formal complaint → gridgirlies: @f1snooper with who?? fia??

sunsetchaser: pls tell me she’s hopping on Lando’s jet to ibiza 😭💛 → lanmama: @sunsetchaser same, we NEED summer lanmelie content

beachbabe4life: ibiza or bust 🏖️ lando waiting by the plane like 😏 → norrisimp: @beachbabe4life honestly we are ALL waiting by the plane tbh

gridqueen: lando calling dibs on the playlist already, she better go 😤

lanmelie4ever: begging for lando x amelie summer pics 🌅🔥 → softforlando: @lanmelie4ever same, my feed is dry without them

pitlaneprincess: if she doesn’t go we riot ✊💀 → lanwatch: @pitlaneprincess legit, ibiza deserves lanmelie energy

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The drone of the private jet was a familiar, comforting sound, a low hum that sealed them off from the rest of the world. Through the window, the Spanish coastline was a ribbon of gold and green, the Mediterranean a dazzling expanse of sapphire. Amelie was curled up against Lando, the plush leather seat a comfortable nest. A soft cashmere blanket was draped over them, its weight a gentle anchor.

On the screen in front of them, a high-octane action movie played, explosions and witty one-liners filling the quiet space. Lando was engrossed, his eyes tracking the frantic chase scene. Amelie, however, wasn't paying attention. She was on her iPad, scrolling mindlessly through an article she'd already read twice. Her mind was a million miles away, already picturing the sun-drenched beaches and vibrant nights of Ibiza.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a new sensation, a warm weight settling on her thigh. Lando’s hand, she realized, had moved from her waist, slipping under the blanket. He began a slow, deliberate stroke along her leg, his fingers tracing a lazy path up and down her denim-clad thigh. She felt her breath catch, her heart giving a little flutter against her ribs.

Then, his hand moved higher, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. The casual strokes became more purposeful, more demanding. He edged closer, the warmth of his body radiating against her.

She reached down, her hand finding his wrist, her grip firm but not harsh. —Lando,— she whispered, her voice barely audible over the jet’s low thrum. —What are you doing?—

—What does it look like I’m doing?— he whispered back, his eyes still fixed on the screen, a lazy grin playing on his lips. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. —I’ve been waiting long enough. We’re almost there, Ames.—

Amelie’s eyes darted around the cabin. —Someone will notice. What about them?— she mumbled, her voice a soft protest. Her eyes flicked toward the front of the jet where the flight attendants were a world away, separated by a heavy curtain. The pilot and copilot were in the cockpit, their voices a distant murmur.

—They won’t notice a thing,— Lando’s hand, still under the blanket, moved with a newfound confidence. —They’re doing their jobs. They’re not coming back here. Just be quiet.—

Amelie fell silent, her hand still resting on his wrist, a soft, unspoken surrender in her touch. Her gaze dropped to her iPad, the screen now just a blur of colors. She bit her lip, a nervous but excited tremor running through her. A slow, delicious heat began to coil in her stomach.

She loosened her grip on his wrist and, with a silent, teasing invitation, she slowly parted her legs a little more. The soft denim of her leggings felt suddenly constricting, a thin barrier between his touch and her skin. Lando’s hand was quick to accept the invitation, his fingers slipping under the hem of her leggings and sliding with a confident, knowing touch. The warm, soft skin of her inner thigh met his fingers. He moved with a slow, teasing pace, his hand a heated caress against her flesh. He was getting closer to his goal. The hum of the jet seemed to fade away, replaced by the thumping of her heart and the anticipation of his touch. He moved toward her core, his fingers tracing a path of pure desire.

His fingers, warm and sure, found their way to the lace of her underwear. He hooked a finger into the fabric, pulling it aside, his thumb pressing gently against her. A soft, involuntary gasp escaped Amelie’s lips, and she pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle it, her eyes closing.

—Ssshh,— he breathed, his voice a low, rough rumble against her ear. —You’re so good for me, Ames. So damn good.—

His words were a warm current, a whispered secret that sent a shiver through her. He moved his hand with a deliberate slowness, a teasing, tantalizing rhythm that was both exquisite and torturous. Amelie’s body was a taut wire, a symphony of sensations building within her. She bit her lip, her knuckles white as she gripped his wrist, her body arching into his touch, a silent plea for more.

—Look at you,— he murmured, his voice a low, sensual tease. —All wrapped up and innocent. But I know what you want. I can feel it. Don’t hold back, Amelie. Just let go.—

A low, guttural moan was building in her throat, fighting to break free. Her control was a thin thread, stretching to its breaking point. Her body was trembling now, a desperate, undeniable need coursing through her. She couldn’t hold on any longer. With a choked sound, she grabbed his arm, her fingers tightening around his wrist, not in protest, but in a desperate, urgent command.

—Lando,— she breathed, her voice a desperate whisper. —No. Not here. Not like this.—

She pulled his hand away from her, the sudden loss of his touch a cold shock to her system. She scrambled to her feet, her legs trembling, and without another word, she tugged on his arm, pulling him upright. His eyes, now dark and hungry, met hers. He didn’t resist, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face as she led him, with a determined, shaky resolve, toward the small, discreet bathroom at the back of the jet.

The small bathroom was a tight, confined space, the door clicking shut behind them with a definitive finality. The humming of the jet was muted, replaced by the frantic sound of their own breathing. Without a moment's hesitation, Lando’s hands were on Amelie’s waist, his grip firm and possessive. He lifted her easily, setting her on the cool porcelain of the sink. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him flush against her.

Their lips met in a desperate, breathless kiss, a wild release of all the pent-up tension and anticipation that had been building for hours. His hands moved from her waist to her hips, pulling her even closer as her fingers tangled in his hair, her mouth devouring his. The kiss was ravenous, a silent, urgent conversation of need and desire.

Amelie broke the kiss, her lips trailing down his jawline. She pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the pulse point in his neck before letting her lips wander lower, her mouth finding the hollow of his throat. Lando groaned, his head tilting back as he gave himself over to her touch. His hands moved, finding the elastic waistband of her leggings. He hooked his thumbs into the fabric, pulling them down slowly, deliberately, over her hips and thighs. The soft denim slid over her skin, a gentle friction that only added to the fire burning between them.

Amelie’s hands, no longer tangled in his hair, found the hem of his hoodie. She pulled it over his head, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of his chest and shoulders. He took her top off next, his gaze dark and intense as he took in the sight of her, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He was about to lean in and kiss her again, his hands moving to her hips, but she pushed gently at his chest, stopping him.

—Wait,— she whispered, her voice husky with desire.

Lando frowned, a look of confused frustration on his face. —What? What’s wrong, Ames?—

She didn’t answer with words. She slid off the sink, her feet hitting the floor with a soft thud. Before he could react, she was on her knees, her hands finding the waistband of his boxers. She pulled them down, her eyes never leaving his. He let out a sharp, surprised intake of breath, his head falling back against the wall of the jet, his eyes closing. Amelie took a moment to look at him, at the way his chest was rising and falling with ragged breaths, at the pure, unadulterated pleasure on his face. She leaned forward, her lips soft against his skin before she started kissing his dick.

She moved her head slowly at first, her mouth a warm, soft enclosure. Lando's hands found their way into her hair, his fingers gathering the strands and twisting them into a ponytail. The gesture was both practical and intimate, a silent acknowledgment of what was happening between them. He held her hair back, his hands a gentle anchor, as she moved with a rhythm that grew more confident, more demanding.

—God, Ames, you're so good at that,— he breathed, his voice a low, ragged groan. His hands moved from her hair to the back of her head, guiding her, his fingers subtly encouraging her pace. —Yes, just like that. You’re perfect. So, so perfect.—

The praise, whispered in the confined space, was a potent aphrodisiac. It fueled her, making her movements more deliberate, more desperate. Her entire focus was on him, on the way his body tensed and relaxed with each pass, on the sounds he was making, on the raw pleasure she was giving him. The small bathroom, the humming jet, the world outside—it all faded away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the heat of the moment.

She felt the subtle shift in his body, the tensing of his muscles, the way his breathing became even more ragged. He was close. Very close. She pulled away, her mouth leaving him with a soft, wet sound, and stood up, her body trembling with anticipation. She reached behind her, her fingers fumbling with the clasp of her bra until it finally came undone. The lace-trimmed cups fell away, and she let the bra drop to the floor.

Lando’s eyes, dark and hungry, immediately fell to her chest. He let out a low groan, reaching out to grab one breast, his thumb circling the taut nipple. He bent his head, his mouth closing over the other one, his tongue a warm, wet line tracing the shape of her nipple before he started to suck.

Amelie gasped, her hands gripping his shoulders for balance as a new wave of sensation crashed over her. She tried to climb back onto the sink, but her legs were too shaky, her body too weak with want. She struggled for a moment, her hips bumping against his, and Lando pulled his mouth from her breast, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

—Need a little help, love?— he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

She just nodded, unable to form a coherent thought. He didn't hesitate, his hands finding her hips and lifting her with a swift, easy motion. He set her back on the sink, her body once again positioned perfectly for him. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers as he whispered, —Good girl. Now, where were we?—

Lando’s hands roamed over her body, his mouth never leaving her breast. He licked and sucked, his touch possessive and tender, while Amelie gasped and moaned his name. Her hands gripped his hair, her fingers tightening as the pleasure built, a frantic, desperate thing inside her.

—So beautiful, Ames,— he murmured against her skin, his words a hot whisper that made her shiver. —You’re so beautiful, I can’t get enough of you.—

He pulled his mouth away and slid his hands down her body, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. With a swift, practiced motion, he pulled them down and off, tossing them aside. His eyes, dark with desire, met hers.

—Let’s see if you're ready for me,— he said, his voice a low, gravelly promise.

He reached between her legs, his fingers a warm, welcome intrusion. He pushed a finger inside her, and Amelie cried out, her back arching. He stroked her for a moment, his touch both gentle and firm, and she felt herself melting into the pleasure, a low moan escaping her lips.

—God, you’re so wet,— he praised, his thumb tracing the swollen skin of her clitoris. —Such a good girl, waiting for me like this.—

He broke the contact, and Amelie whimpered in protest. He pulled a foil packet from his jeans pocket with one hand, his eyes never leaving hers as he tore it open with his teeth. In a moment, he had the condom on, and he was back between her legs, his gaze fixed on hers, a silent question in his eyes. She met his gaze, her answer a soft, breathless "yes" that was all he needed.

He positioned himself between her legs, his gaze locked with hers. The air in the small bathroom crackled with a silent, desperate energy. This wasn't just about sex; it was about weeks of unspoken tension, of longing simmering beneath the surface, of a fight that had kept them apart in the most intimate ways.

He thrust into her, and Amelie gasped, her body a perfect, tight fit around him. The initial shock gave way to an all-consuming pleasure, a profound sense of home that she hadn't realized how much she'd missed. She felt him shudder, a low groan escaping his lips as he found himself buried deep inside her.

—God, Ames, you’re so tight,— he breathed, his voice thick with a mix of awe and relief. —I’ve missed this so much.—

He started to move, a slow, deliberate rhythm that felt like a conversation, a silent apology and a passionate declaration all at once. Amelie wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper, her hips rising to meet his every thrust. Every movement was a release of the frustration and hurt from their fight, a powerful confirmation that they were meant to be this way—together, tangled, and whole. The need was a physical ache, a raw hunger that they were finally, desperately, satisfying. The world outside the small, rocking cabin ceased to exist. There was only the rhythm of their bodies, the soft slap of skin on skin, and the shared, breathless knowledge that this was exactly where they needed to be.

—Lando, faster. Please. Faster!— Amelie begged, her voice a breathless plea.

The word was all the permission he needed. He picked up his pace, his thrusts becoming quicker, harder, more desperate. Her hips met his, a frantic rhythm of raw need. He felt her tighten around him, a powerful, sucking sensation that told him she was on the edge.

—Look at me, Ames,— he commanded, his voice low and strained. When her eyes, hazy with pleasure, finally met his, he leaned in and kissed her deeply, passionately. At the same time, he freed one hand and guided it between them, his fingers finding her clitoris and stroking it with a firm, practiced rhythm.

Amelie cried out, a loud, unrestrained sound that echoed in the small space. He felt her body convulse around him, the exquisite tightness milking him of his control. With one final, deep thrust, Lando came with a guttural groan, his body shuddering with the force of his release. He collapsed against her, his forehead resting on her shoulder as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

He pulled back just enough to kiss the top of her head, a soft, tender gesture, before finding her lips again. The kiss was slow and gentle, a stark contrast to the ferocity of what had just happened.

He carefully pulled out of her, the finality of it a quiet sadness. He reached for the box of tissues on the counter, handing a handful to her. While she cleaned herself, he quickly took off the condom, tying it into a tight knot before tossing it into the small trash can under the sink. They redressed in comfortable silence, a sense of quiet contentment settling between them.

As Lando pulled his hoodie over his head, he grinned at her. —Well, that’s one way to finally join the mile-high club.—

Amelie’s eyes met his, and a playful smirk tugged at her lips. She promptly gave him the middle finger, a gesture of mock exasperation that made him laugh.

—Oh, come on,— he chuckled, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close. He gently pried her hand down from its defiant position. —You know you missed this as much as I did.—

He kissed her then, a long, lingering kiss that was a promise of all the nights and days to come. She kissed him back, her hands coming to rest on his chest, a soft, undeniable surrender.

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

liked by chaoticwags, wagsoverload, and others

ameliefanpage: ✈️💛 looks like someone’s on her way to paradise… can we talk about that view tho? 🏝️🛥️

View all 42,912 comments

sunsetnorris: ibiza? tell me she’s gonna meet lan tonight 😭💛 → lanmama: @sunsetnorris praying for island PDA 👀

wagsoverload: lando probs sees this and melts lol → amesquad: @wagsoverload he’s already texting her “where u at” ig 😏

norrislovebug: pls let them have the best summer ever 🏝️🥰

f1dramaqueen: hope she’s not there alone lmao 😬 → lanmama: @f1dramaqueen bro she’s probs with lan in her head already 😏

islandvibesonly: can someone confirm this is ibiza or am I dreaming 👀 → sunsetnorris: @islandvibesonly 100% ibiza vibes, trust me 🌊🛥️

sunsetnorris: pls tell me lan’s already there waiting 😭💛 → amesquad: @sunsetnorris manifesting hand holding on the beach 👀

f1fangirlxx: she looks like she’s vibing, cant wait for lanmelie content 😭 → chaoticwags: @f1fangirlxx same, give us PDA or give us chaos 😏

norrislovebug: if this is ibiza then summer just got 1000% better 😩💛

ameliefanatic: why she gotta make me want a vacation with her and lan lol 🌴 → lanmama: @ameliefanatic me too, pls bring them together already

f1dramaqueen: guys she’s smiling so much, hope lan sees this story 👀 → sunsetnorris: @f1dramaqueen he definitely does, he’s crying inside lol

islandvibesonly: can we get a live update from the yacht please? 🛥️💛 → amesquad: @islandvibesonly i’m screaming if lanmelie content drops tonight

sunsetnorris: pls tell me lan is on another jet rn headed there 😭💛 → amesquad: @sunsetnorris he literally can’t not be

wagsoverload: her feet probably already in the sand thinking of him 😏 → chaoticwags: @wagsoverload same omg i can’t

f1dramaqueen: someone tell me they’re having a sunset kiss rn 👀 → lanmama: @f1dramaqueen manifesting big time 🌅💛

ameliefanatic: if she’s meeting him there, my soul is ready for the content 😭💛 → wagsoverload: @ameliefanatic mood. give me all the PDA pics pls

islandvibesonly: ibiza check. sun check. lan check?? 👀

f1dramaqueen: praying she’s texting him rn 👀 → chaoticwags: @f1dramaqueen sending him all the heart emojis already 💌

norrislovebug: me imagining them on a boat together 😭💛 → amesquad: @norrislovebug same omg my heart can’t handle it

lanmelie4ever: pls tell me he has a sunhat too so they match 😏 → sunsetnorris: @lanmelie4ever yes iconic couple content incoming

ameliefanatic: if this is Ibiza, my soul is ready for the PDA pics 💛 → f1dramaqueen: @ameliefanatic literally, give us everything

islandvibesonly: sunset, sea, and Lando pls 👀 → norrislovebug: @islandvibesonly prayingyyyyyyy

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

The bass still thumped in Lando’s chest as he and Amelie wove their way through the side entrance at Ushuaïa, the scent of sweat, perfume, and ocean salt clinging to the humid Ibiza air. Martin Garrix’s set had just ended, the crowd still roaring as if unwilling to let go.

They found him near the DJ booth, headphones still slung around his neck, damp hair pushed back from his forehead.

—You absolutely killed it,— Amelie said, throwing her arms around him. —I don’t even know how you still have energy after that.—

Martin laughed, squeezing her back. —Energy drinks and muscle memory. You were watching from the side?—

—Front and center,— Lando grinned, offering him a handshake that turned into a half-hug. —Unreal, mate.—

Amelie excused herself for the bathroom, disappearing into the neon-lit maze of the backstage area. Lando stayed, swapping quick stories with Martin about mutual friends and summer plans. But every few minutes, his gaze flicked toward the corridor, scanning for her.

He caught sight of her again just as she wandered toward the catering table, clearly on a mission for something to eat. Before he could call her over, someone else did.

—Hey,— a familiar voice called, drawing him back to his own conversation. He turned to find Olivia approaching, greeting Martin with a warm kiss on the cheek.

Lando smiled politely, but over her shoulder, movement caught his attention again. His stomach tensed.

A tall guy had just reached Amelie—the same one he remembered from years ago, the one who had laughed over whiskey in Austin about having a crush on her since her Disney days. Lando watched the man ask for a photo, which she, being her usual gracious self, agreed to. Afterward, she stayed to chat, polite and smiling, but the guy leaned in closer than Lando liked. Way closer.

Something in him snapped before he could think it through.

Lando excused himself from Martin mid-sentence, his polite smile tightening into something sharper. He crossed the distance between them in quick, unhurried strides—controlled, but with enough purpose that Amelie noticed him coming just as the other guy laughed at something she’d said.

Without breaking stride, Lando slipped an arm around her waist, his hand splaying possessively against her hip as he pulled her a step back into him.

—Hey, love,— he said casually, leaning down to press a brief kiss against her temple. —Didn’t think you’d find the food before I did.—

Her brows lifted slightly, but she didn’t comment, just shifting so her body rested lightly against his side.

The guy glanced between them, that easy smile faltering just enough for Lando to catch it.

—You two… know each other?—

Lando’s grin was all polite charm, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. —Yeah. Been together a while.— His tone was easy, but the unspoken and she’s mine was threaded through every word. —Thanks for keeping her company, though.—

The guy’s laugh was tight, a little awkward. —Right. Yeah, of course. Good to see you again, mate.—

Lando gave a short nod, and the guy excused himself, melting back into the crowd.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Amelie turned her head to look up at him, her lips twitching in a mix of amusement and curiosity. —Subtle,— she murmured.

Lando’s innocent smile returned, softer now. —What? I was just saying hi.—

—Mm-hm.—

Before she could tease him further, he bent down and kissed her—slow, unhurried, tasting faintly of the vodka soda he’d been nursing earlier. When he pulled back, that same smile was still in place, but his eyes were warmer now, anchored entirely on her.

—You were taking too long to come back to me,— he said simply.

And with his hand still resting at her waist, he guided her toward the catering table, as if he hadn’t just casually staked his claim in front of half the backstage.

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

liked by paddockpatrol, sunsetvibes, and others

landonights: Lando living his best life tonight in Ibiza 🏝️🎶 vibing with @martingarrix & @gabrielbortoleto after the show 😎🔥

View all 93,193 comments

sunsetvibes: lando out here in Ibiza looking like he owns the island 😭🔥 → lanmama: @sunsetvibes he literally does when Amelie’s around

beachbum23: bro imagine him chilling here and Amelie’s not 😭💔 → chaosqueen: @beachbum23 ikr we need her there like yesterday

fluoqueen: lando + Martin Garrix + Bortoleto = iconic squad energy 😎 → norisimp: @fluoqueen can we get a Lanmelie collab pls

lanmelie4ever: calling it now… Amelie’s gonna slide in and the island will explode 🌊💛 → sunlover89: @lanmelie4ever facts she’s the only upgrade he needs

paddockpatrol: he’s vibing hard but lowkey looks like he wants Ames there too 😏 → lanfanatic: @paddockpatrol bro it’s obvious just look at the smile before Martin’s set

summerfeels: me imagining them watching the sunset together 😭🥹 → landoobsessed: @summerfeels same me crying at home

islandhaters: why he always in Ibiza smh → beachqueen: @islandhaters bc he’s a legend and we love it 🤷‍♀️

chaoticwags: if Amelie pops up next story i’m gonna lose it 😭 → norisimp: @chaoticwags same we’re ready for that iconic moment

sunsetchaser: okay but we NEED them together in Ibiza pls 😭💛 → lanmelie4life: @sunsetchaser facts, island is not complete without them

beachbum23: why they at the same island but not holding hands smh 😩 → chaoticwags: @beachbum23 ikr we’re suffering for the content

lanlover99: literally begging Lando story Amelie appears next 😭🌊

sunlover89: can someone tell them the fans demand PDA? 😏 → paddockpatrol: @sunlover89 fr fr, we want the couple vibes

islandvibes: me screaming: put Amelie in his lap already 😭 → fluoqueen: @islandvibes SAME, make the dreams real

lanmelieforever: pls let them be a couple in Ibiza, seeing them separately is torture 💔 → sunsetvibes: @lanmelieforever yes, our hearts can’t take it

lanmelie4life: lando’s there vibing but where’s Amelie at??? 😭 we need them together NOW → sunsetvibes: @lanmelie4life ikr same we’re not having separate Lanmelies

beachbabe23: literally pleading… Amelie pls slide into Ibiza already 🥹💛 → chaosqueen: @beachbabe23 we’re ALL begging

fluoqueen: bro he’s so happy but it ain’t complete without Ames 😭

islanddreamer: can someone teleport her to him pls? 🫣 → summerfeels: @islanddreamer same same same

paddockpatrol: seeing them in the same country ain’t enough… we need PDA at sunset 🌅😏

chaoticwags: imagine them finally on the same yacht together… I can’t breathe 😭💛 → norrisimp: @chaoticwags exact same we’re living for this reunion

beachqueen: just let them hold hands already 😭💛 → lanmeliefanatic: @beachqueen facts, my soul can’t take it

sunsetvibes: me staring at Lando’s story hoping Amelie pops up 🌊 → paddockpatrol: @sunsetvibes SAME, we need the couple energy

lanmelie4ever: them in Ibiza separately is cruel 😩 → fluoqueen: @lanmelie4ever ikr, give us the sunset kiss

islanddreamer: begging for a Lanmelie collab on the yacht pls 😏

lanlover99: if they’re on the same island and not together I might actually cry 😭 → norisimp: @lanlover99 same, the fans demand couple vibes

sunlover89: Lando + Amelie in Ibiza = peak summer, don’t disappoint us 🌴

[kathlare]

Hii!! When is the next part coming out?? I’m so excited to see how Lando and Amelie reconcile

Hii!! The next part is already up 😄 If you haven’t read it yet, I’ll leave the link down below. Thank you for all your support, hope you love it!

[kathlare]

Hiii is there any chance the next chapter is coming today??

Yes!! The next chapter is coming out in just 5 minutes 😄 It’s all about the summer break, hope you love it!

[kathlare]

please please please write with your amazing talent about the beautiful hungary gp win🫶 maybe lando and amelie can finally come to an understanding and make up??

Thank you so much for your sweet request! The Hungary GP chapter is finally here, and yes, Lando and Amelie do have some important moments together—hopefully you’ll love how it all unfolds. If you ever have more ideas, I’m always open to hear them. Thanks for reading and all the love! 🫶

only one

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: A tender reunion brings clarity, comfort, and the quiet promise that even through distance and struggle, love—real, steady love—can still find its way home.

Wordcount: 11.6 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

August 3rd, 2025 - Budapest, Hungary

liked by chaoticwags, dayman4life, and others

ln4updates: Lando Norris has arrived at the Hungaroring with the McLaren crew 🇭🇺🧡 Looking sharp, focused, and ready to bounce back this weekend. Let’s get it, king.

View all 69,028 comments

baddieinthepits: he been looking like he cried in the hotel bathroom and i’m not joking → ameliaslips: @baddieinthepits bro blinked 7 times in 4 seconds during the interview 😭 something is UP → lanmeliedefenseunit: @ameliaslips i’m telling y’all they had a fight and he’s spiraling 💔

quartzdnf: this man’s carrying heartbreak and tire strategy on his shoulders rn → chaoticwags: @quartzdnf he misses her fr, i miss her and she’s not even mine

lanmama44: idc what happened he better show up with flowers and a soft apology accent → maxfewtrellfan420: @lanmama44 i vote we lock them in a hotel room with no wifi till they fix it

pitlaneprincess: he’s giving sad indie boy aesthetic and it's working too well → daymaniac: @pitlaneprincess it's not cute when i’m emotionally invested in their relationship 😭

lanmelie4life: the grip this couple has on my serotonin is frankly unhealthy

f1gossiphoe: if lando doesn’t get podium she def blocked him → charlescurls: @f1gossiphoe and if he WINS it’s bc she unblocked and texted “good luck ❤️”

paddockinsanity: this breakup paranoia is hitting harder than tire degradation → dayman4life: @paddockinsanity we need the lanmelie paddock hug to restore balance

mclovinlan: he looks like he’s been listening to manchild on repeat with tears in his eyes → norisszn: @mclovinlan not him crying to her own diss track i can’t 😭

stellaapproved: lando if you’re reading this pls just say “i miss her” on live tv i’ll forgive everything → lanwifey: @stellaapproved and watch her fly to hungary mid race 😭

benchbaby: every time he runs his hand through his hair i feel the heartbreak → yelowow: @benchbaby that man is one sad hoodie away from writing poetry in his notes app 😔

lanmelieunited: we’re all watching this man mentally spiral in HD and FIA just lets it happen 💔

tifosibabey: nah why does he look like he listened to manchild on loop all night 😭

amelieismymom: he’s walking like he hasn’t slept in two days and his coffee order was just vibes → dramaindrs: @amelieismymom lando blink twice if you miss her

dnfqueen: this is a man who got left on read → mclanmelie: @dnfqueen and you just KNOW it was one of those “k.” texts

lannduhhh: the way his smile didn’t even reach his eyes today like 😬 → notoscarpiastri: @lannduhhh mclaren better prep tissues instead of tires

lanmelieupdates: she’s in chicago, he’s in hungary and we’re in shambles → pitlanehottie: @lanmelieupdates this relationship got me studying body language like it’s a phd

dayman4president: every single camera angle today screamed “where is she?” → bennysbitch: @dayman4president even the FIA looks concerned 😭

landoisbae88: they had a silly little fight over something stupid i feel it in my bones → amelielover22: @landoisbae88 like he said “calm down” and she took a flight 💀 → landoisbae88: @amelielover22 that’s literally so them it hurts 😭

vibescheckmc: someone play the one that got away over his paddock entrance pls → sunsetlanmelie: @vibescheckmc NOOO bc he would repost it 💀💀

yellowflagzone: this man misses his gf so bad he forgot how to smile 💀

f1slaysister: if he wins this race while heartbroken… i fear for the rest of the grid → quaddie44: @f1slaysister pain is his fuel now 😭 → norislawyer: @quaddie44 literally driving like he has nothing left to lose

dramainthepaddock: ok but am i the only one who thinks she’s waiting for him to say sorry first??? → lanmelietruther: @dramainthepaddock babe i think it’s about the mexico trip 👀 → chaoticwags: @lanmelietruther no bc why wasn’t he there!! like???

honkhonkamelie: i love them but if we get one more sad lando pic i’m suing

formulafangirlies: he’s sad. she’s hot. FIX IT JESUS → ameliedaydreamz: @formulafangirlies put them in a room with one playlist and a bottle of wine

landoveralls: he been walking through that paddock like he lost more than just sleep → lanmelietruther: @landoveralls bro def left 200 voice notes on read and one of them had tears in it

wagsinthewild: the way he smiled at the camera like it physically hurt??? → chaoticwags: @wagsinthewild yeah that was not a smile that was a cry for help

mclarenwivesclub: ok but where’s Amelie?? where’s Benny?? where’s the love of his life?? → mclarenwivesclub: @maxsminibag so he really fumbled and got left continentally 😭😭

lanmelieupdates: i know a man in emotional damage when i see one and this is it

notmydriver: watch him win and dedicate it to her like “this one's for… yk who u are” → ameliedaydreams: @notmydriver he gonna whisper “for A” on the radio and log off forever

landofthegrid: i miss them and i don’t even know them personally → daymansunshine: @landofthegrid real, i be checking their posts like i’m on the payroll 😭

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

The buzz of the McLaren motorhome was as thick as the Hungarian summer air — engineers murmuring over data, screens flickering with telemetry, PR staff weaving through corridors with headsets and clipboards. The pre-race chaos always had a pulse to it, an electric rhythm that usually fueled Lando.

But not today.

He sat hunched over the simulator in the back room, helmet discarded beside him, jaw tight as he pulled off his gloves. He hadn’t even finished the cool-down lap. His mind wasn’t there. It hadn’t been all weekend.

Another call. Another fucking voicemail.

He pressed his phone to his ear anyway, his knee bouncing. Ring. Ring.

Straight to voicemail.

Again.

He swallowed down the frustration building like a storm in his chest and waited for the tone.

—Hi, it’s me again. I… Look, I know you’re probably sick of hearing my voice by now but I just… fuck, Ames, I miss you. I’m trying to give you the time you asked for but it’s killing me. Just... just call me back. Please.—

He ended the call.

Let his forehead drop into his palm. His other hand shoved his phone to the side, hard enough it clattered across the desk. Oscar, who had been standing behind him quietly with a water bottle in hand, finally spoke.

—Mate.—

Lando didn’t look up.

—Don’t.—

—You’ve called her five times since breakfast.—

—She’s not answering.— Lando stood abruptly, his chair rolling back with a squeak. He raked his hands through his hair and paced, muttering under his breath. —She’s not answering and I can’t fucking think and this whole weekend’s been a shitshow and I don’t care about any of this if I can’t even talk to her.—

Oscar blinked slowly. —You’re fighting for the championship.—

—I don’t give a fuck about the championship if I lose her.—

He grabbed his keys off the desk like he’d made up his mind.

Oscar’s brows shot up. —Wait, what are you doing?—

—What does it look like? I’m leaving,— Lando snapped, already walking toward the door.

Oscar followed quickly. —You’re what?—

—I’m going to Chicago. I don’t care if I have to fly commercial or hitchhike or whatever the hell. I need to see her, Oscar.—

Oscar caught up to him, grabbing his shoulder before they reached the paddock exit.

—Lando. Stop.—

Lando turned, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched. Oscar had known him for a while now—long enough to see the shift. This wasn’t just pre-race nerves. This was heartbreak, messy and raw and real.

—You can’t just walk out before the race,— Oscar said carefully, voice low. —We’ve got twenty minutes until briefing. The whole team’s depending on us. We are fighting for the world title.—

—And what the fuck good’s the world title if I don’t have her?— Lando snapped back, voice cracking. His fingers gripped Oscar’s arm like a lifeline. —I can’t fucking do this without her. She’s all I want, Oscar. Not this. Not the race. Not anything else.—

Oscar sighed, steadying his mate’s shaking hands. —Lan, I get it. I do. But listen... this weekend, the race, it’s not just about us. We’re a team, yeah? We race together, fight together. You walking out? It’s not just you losing, it’s everyone.—

Lando’s breath hitched. He wanted to yell, to storm off, to throw everything out the window. But beneath the fire, something steadied him. Oscar’s calm, the weight of those words, it broke through the chaos in his head.

Lando looked down at his keys, his thumb running over the edge of the McLaren tag on the ring. His heart felt like it had been gripped in a fist for days, but for the first time since Friday… he paused.

Oscar clapped a hand on his back.

—You finish this race, and then you go to her. You’ll get on the first plane out. You’ll go to Chicago. But after. You hear me? You don’t throw everything away right now.—

Lando nodded slowly, jaw still tight, but the madness behind his eyes simmered. Barely. He muttered under his breath, almost like a promise.

—After the race.—

—After the race,— Oscar repeated, walking beside him back toward the motorhome.

As they stepped back inside, the rush of people resumed like they’d never left—briefing in ten, engineers calling out tire strategies, Norris and Piastri scrawled on whiteboards in corner plots of the room.

His thumb hovered over the call log on his phone.

One more try. Just one more.

He hit her name.

Calling Ames💛 His heart thundered.

Ring.

Ring.

He closed his eyes, throat closing.

He was just about to press end when...

Click.

A soft inhale on the other side.

—Hi.—

His heart fucking stopped.

For a beat, he couldn’t speak. He was frozen in the middle of the hallway, eyes wide, phone pressed so hard to his ear it hurt.

—Amelie,— he whispered, voice breaking. —Hi, baby. Hi.—

Oscar paused mid-step and turned around, eyebrows furrowing when he saw Lando standing like a statue.

—It’s her,— Lando mouthed, already turning and walking in the opposite direction, headed for his driver’s room. He didn’t care that the debrief was starting. He didn’t care that Oscar was calling after him, saying his name.

He needed this more.

Ed and Jon were mid-conversation about tire wear when Lando burst through the door of his driver’s room, his eyes wild, lips pressed tight, phone glued to his ear.

Both men looked up.

Lando didn’t even hesitate—he held up a single hand. A silent, desperate please.

They understood.

Without a word, Ed grabbed Jon’s elbow and the two slipped out, quietly shutting the door behind them. The second it clicked shut, Lando finally exhaled.

He sat down hard on the little sofa in the corner, head falling back against the cushion, eyes squeezed shut.

—Hi, baby,— he whispered again, softer this time, like saying it too loud might scare her off the call. —God, it’s good to hear your voice.—

There was silence for a beat. Just breathing. A little static on the line. Then, Amelie’s voice, quiet, a little tired but unmistakably her.

—You shouldn’t be calling me before a race.—

Lando smiled, that crooked, stupid, aching smile that only ever belonged to her. —Yeah, well, I’ve been calling all weekend, so it felt like tradition at this point.—

She didn’t laugh. But she didn’t hang up either.

—How’s Budapest?— she asked softly.

—Hot. Stressful. Empty without you.—

—You’re dramatic,— Amelie replied, but it came out more like a whisper than a tease. Her voice was laced with something heavier. Tired. Guarded. Like she was bracing herself.

Lando let the quiet fill the space between them for a second before he exhaled.

—Yeah. Maybe. But it’s true.—

There was a rustle on her end. Fabric maybe. Or sheets. Or the breeze through a window. He imagined her in one of his shirts, hair tucked messily behind her ear, paint on her fingers or eyeliner smudged beneath her eyes. Always so stunning. Even when she was unraveling.

Especially when she was unraveling.

—You’re in Chicago, yeah? Lolla today?—

—Mhm,— she hummed. —We go on around nine. There’s already chaos outside the hotel.—

Lando ran a hand through his curls, finally leaning forward, elbows on his knees. —You nervous?—

—Not really. Just… distracted.—

His throat bobbed. He didn’t say anything.

He didn’t need to.

—Fuck, Ames, I just want you here with me.—

Her voice softened, fragile but steady.

—I know, Lan.—

Lando closed his eyes, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. For the first time in days, hearing her voice was enough. Not solving everything, but enough.

—Fuck, Ames, you have no idea how much I’ve missed this.— His voice cracked, low and raw.

—Lan...— she breathed, a pause thick with unsaid words. —I miss you too.—

They sat in silence for a beat, the noise of the paddock muted behind closed doors, the weight between them softened by the simple act of hearing each other.

—So, no race talk, yeah?— Lando tried, a small grin in his voice. —How’s the festival vibe? You headlining and stealing the damn show like always?—

Amelie gave the softest laugh, the kind he hadn’t heard in what felt like centuries.

—It’s chaos. Jack’s running around like a madman because someone lost my mic pack and the crowd’s already camped out. I could hear them from the lobby this morning.—

—Fucking rockstar, you are,— Lando murmured, smile pulling at the edge of his mouth. —Do I get a private performance later? Just for me? Maybe something acoustic and sexy, with a bit of that raspy voice you get when you’re tired?—

Amelie hummed, and he could almost see the way her lips curved, playful even if she was trying not to be. —You’re disgusting.—

—You love it,— he whispered back.

A pause. A beat too long.

—Yeah... I do.—

It was so quiet, so barely audible, he almost thought he imagined it. But it was real. She said it. And his chest ached.

He leaned forward, hand gripping the edge of the sofa cushion like he needed to hold onto something or he’d fucking float away.

—You have no idea what it’s been like here without you,— he murmured. —I’ve been going insane, baby. Like, Oscar had to physically stop me from getting on a fucking plane this morning.—

She sucked in a breath, but didn’t respond to that. Instead, her voice came softer, like she was scared to be too vulnerable. Like she didn’t know if she could trust her own heart.

—Did you... finish sim work?—

Lando huffed a breath through his nose, half laugh, half disbelief. —Barely. I bailed halfway through a lap. My head was somewhere else. Not exactly the performance McLaren was hoping for.—

There was a faint shift again on her end, maybe her settling into bed or laying back on a hotel couch.

—Lan... I didn’t want to shut you out. I just needed to breathe, I... I couldn’t think in Monaco.—

—It’s okay,— he cut in softly. —You don’t have to explain right now. I just wanted to hear your voice. That’s all. Just this.—

Another pause. Her breath hitched.

—You sound tired,— she whispered.

—I haven’t really been sleeping. Not properly.—

—I’m sorry.—

—Don’t be.— He swallowed. —Just… don’t hang up yet. Okay?—

—I wasn’t going to.—

His hand tightened around the phone.

Outside the room, voices echoed faintly; Oscar probably looking for him, team staff moving down the hall. But it was all background noise now. The only thing that mattered was her.

—What color are you wearing?— he asked suddenly, his tone dipping slightly, a tiny smirk curling into his voice.

—Lando,— she warned, a soft smile beneath the exhale. —You’re supposed to be focusing.—

—I am. Focusing on the only thing I give a shit about right now. Come on, tell me. Is it the black dress with the little silver bits? The one I nearly passed out over the first time you wore it? Or the red one that makes me absolutely feral?—

She laughed, finally, and he felt his lungs fill for the first time in a week.

—Neither. I’m still in my hoodie and shorts, barefoot, hair’s a mess. You’d hate it.—

—Bullshit. I’d probably be down on my knees in two seconds flat.—

—Lando,— she scolded again, but her voice was warm now. More alive.

—What? Just speaking my truth.—

Another moment of quiet passed, and then Amelie asked, almost shyly.

—Will you tell me how the car feels this weekend? Not race strategy or numbers, just you. How you feel in it.—

Lando blinked, a little surprised, then smiled softly.

—Honestly? Pretty good. The car’s solid. I think we have a chance. If I can get out of my own head long enough to drive like I know I can.—

—I believe in you,— she said so quietly he nearly missed it.

His throat clenched.

—I always have.—

—Ames,— he whispered, voice cracking again. —You know I love you, right? I know I messed things up, but fuck, I love you so much.—

She didn’t answer right away. He let her have the silence. He didn’t push.

Then finally, her voice, barely above a whisper.

—I know. I love you too.—

He bit his bottom lip, head tipping back against the wall, eyes burning.

—Can I call you again later? After the race? I just… want to hear you again. When everything’s quiet. When I can tell you all the stupid things I couldn’t say this week.—

—Okay.—

The line was still open, her breath still there.

—Go win the damn race, Norris.—

—Yes ma’am.— He grinned. —Anything for you, baby.—

And then, gently, slowly, she hung up.

Leaving Lando staring at the phone screen like she’d handed him back a piece of his soul.

He let out a breath.

Then stood, grabbed his suit from the hanger, and walked out the door like a man on a mission.

Oscar raised a brow as he passed. —Everything good?—

Lando nodded.

—It will be.—

And for the first time all weekend, he actually believed it.

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

liked by jackdayman, maxfewtrell, and others

mclaren: LANDO’S ON THE TOP STEP AGAIN! 🏆

#McLaren #F1

View all 128,100 comments

jackdayman: yeahhh my guy 🫡 that’s how you do it → lanjacks: @jackdayman bestie era support from the sidelines real 👏

maxfewtrell: bout time he remembered how to win 😮‍💨 → oscarpiastri: @maxfewtrell and how to keep it out the wall 😭 → maxfewtrell: @oscarpiastri LMAO ur safe this week bro

lanmeliecentral: he’s not just winning the race he’s winning AT LIFE 😭

amelieinspo: THIS is what post-breakdown recovery arc looks like → mcgfcore: @amelieinspo i just know she texted him before lights out like “do your thing.” and HE DID

nor1s4life: sorry but he drives faster when she’s mad at him → daymanfan13: @nor1s4life no like why is that true 😭 he was DRIVING through his feelings today

lanfanbase: THE AMELIE ERA STRIKES AGAIN → noristok: @lanfanbase man went 0-100 emotionally and on the track

f1girliee: he’s so babygirl but also HIMOTHY when he wins

hatecorner99: man can drive fast but can’t keep a girl in the same garage for a whole weekend → ameliesknight: @hatecorner99 and yet still wins on and off track 😘 stay pressed

wagsarewinning: me when i see lando kiss the trophy knowing he was thinking of her → lanmelietruther: @wagsarewinning i SWEAR he whispered “for her” before the champagne popped 💅

lanlovie: he won but u can SEE he wished she was there 😭 → amelieupdates: @lanlovie like u can hear his voice crack in the interview i’m gonna throw up

gridgirly: this W was for the girl not in the paddock fr → paddockpov: @gridgirly like he’s smiling but it’s giving sad boycore

lanfan69: he’s winning but he’s LONELY 😭

melancholymclaren: him winning while she’s in another continent… tragic romance arc → lanmeliecentral: @melancholymclaren romcom third act energy don’t play rn

n0rrisbabe: no podium kiss just podium pain 💔 → manchildfan: @n0rrisbabe justice for the gf not in the garage

softlanfan: he’s wearing the smile but not the sparkle 🥹 → ameliecore: @softlanfan and that sparkle is 5’6” and currently in chicago

jackattack: he did that for the timeline to shut up → elyrules: @jackattack the man said “yeah we’re distant but i still EAT”

wagswatching: no wag no problem i guess 💅 → hateralert: @wagswatching except the problem is MY HEART

hatersclub999: y’all still think they’re fine?? she didn’t even like the post lol → dayman4ever: @hatersclub999 maybe she was crying too hard to open the app 💔

lanmelieedits: i’m making the “win without her” montage right now it’s gonna break y’all → norismedia: @lanmelieedits post it at midnight for maximum pain pls

pitwallgf: lando wins for the heartbreak girlies 😭 → lonelypodium: @pitwallgf i’ve never felt so seen by a boy holding champagne

chaoticwags: LANDO WINNING WHILE HIS GF ISN’T EVEN IN THE COUNTRY??? BOY WAS DRIVING THROUGH IT 😭 → lanmotel: @chaoticwags real pain fuels performance I fear → amelieshoes: @lanmotel he turned heartbreak into horsepower

ameliedefenseunit: why does he look sad on the podium tho 😭 → gridmoments: @ameliedefenseunit bc she wasn’t there to kiss him and whisper “my winner” → noriluvbot: @gridmoments no bc that’s literally a podium tradition now and i miss it

lanfanstuff: he saw the empty space where she should’ve been and said “I gotta drive like my life depends on it” → daydreammelie: @lanfanstuff he got spiritual about it 😭

lanmeliecentral: if this is his sad-boy performance imagine when she comes back 😭😭 ��� fanaccountmelie: @lanmeliecentral literally a romcom arc playing out in real time

lanoscarzone: oscar better hug him extra hard since his girl’s not here 💔 → wokingwifeys: @lanoscarzone i need a bromance podium moment to balance the emotional damage

papayapixels: W podium, but L for no Amelie in post-race pics 😭 → norisszn: @papayapixels the grid was full but the garage felt empty 😔

ameliefiles: she gave him his space… and he turned it into pole and a win. slow clap 👏

lanloverz: man just won a GP and all i’m thinking is “damn wish Amelie was there to run into his arms” → lanmelieteapage: @lanloverz SAME i miss the mid-race kisses and trophy bottle scribbles 😩

hatewatcher88: cool win but like… relationship soft-launching a break up? → lanmelietruther: @hatewatcher88 pls be fr they’re probably texting every 3 minutes

gridglory: what if she surprises him at the airport later 😭 → daymanfan98: @gridglory don’t give me hope

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

The roar hit him like a wave.

Lando stepped out of the cool-down room into the blinding Hungarian sunlight, the scent of champagne already lingering in the air, heat bouncing off the tarmac as he walked toward the podium.

The crowd was thunderous. A sea of orange. Flags waving, arms flailing, chants of his name echoing through every corner of the circuit. Hungary loved him. They always had.

But even with the adoration of thousands crashing around him, it felt… quiet.

He climbed the steps, one by one, hands still tingling from the grip of the steering wheel, heart still pumping with adrenaline. His race suit was damp with sweat, curls matted beneath the rim of his cap. On any other day, this would’ve felt like the summit. The peak. The place he always wanted to be.

First step. Center.

Victory.

But his eyes weren’t scanning the crowd for fans. They were scanning for her.

And she wasn’t there.

She wasn’t at the McLaren garage, or hiding behind the pit wall, or waiting with her half-sarcastic, “finally” smile when he tossed her the champagne.

He knew she was in Chicago. Probably in a greenroom, probably surrounded by chaos and cameras and laughter that wasn’t loud enough to distract her from the ache in her chest. He pictured her watching the broadcast, her thumbnail between her teeth, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands like she always did when she was nervous.

He pictured her not watching at all.

And that thought nearly buckled his knees.

As the national anthem played, he stood tall, hand over his heart, eyes straight ahead. But he wasn’t hearing the music. He was hearing her voice.

I believe in you.

The trophy was heavy when they placed it in his hands. He lifted it anyway, crowd roaring again, the champagne popping beside him. He didn’t even flinch when it hit his cheek. Oscar’s aim was still shit.

He raised the bottle. Smiled for the cameras. Let them take their photos.

But his mind was somewhere else entirely.

All this meant nothing if she didn’t feel close to him. If she didn’t know that every fucking corner he took today was for her. That every overtake, every defensive line, every tire call—it wasn’t for the standings. It wasn’t for the media.

It was for her.

To prove something. To fight for something.

To fight for her.

He tilted his head back and took a long swig of champagne, bitter and bright. It didn’t taste as sweet without her stealing the bottle after. Without her scribbling hearts on the base with a Sharpie and hiding it in their hallway cabinet like a kid hoarding treasure.

Lando wiped his mouth with the back of his glove and turned slightly toward the crowd, giving the photographers what they wanted.

But inside, he was already a million miles away.

He would fight.

He would show up.

Distance be damned. Time zones be damned. He didn’t care if she was halfway across the world or half a step from gone—he was going to remind her what they were made of.

He needed to hold her again. Needed to fall asleep with her tucked against his chest, hearing her mumble nonsense at midnight and steal the covers and make fun of his morning hair.

He needed his home back.

Because that’s what she was.

Not Monaco. Not the podium. Not this stage and all its lights.

Her.

And this time, he wasn’t going to let the silence win.

Not after this.

Not again.

He took one last look at the crowd, then down at the trophy in his hands.

Lando’s fingers curled tighter around the trophy, knuckles pale beneath the glove. The gold shimmered in the sun, cold and gleaming like it had something to prove. Like it was supposed to mean more than it did right now.

He brought it to his lips, kissed the top lightly. For the fans. For the cameras. For the ritual.

But his heart wasn’t in it.

Because every win, every stat, every record meant less without her hand in his.

He stared at it for a second longer—this shiny, polished, perfect thing that once meant everything.

And now?

It felt hollow.

He lowered it slowly, arms relaxing by his sides. The crowd was still screaming his name, Oscar grinning beside him, George clapping him on the back like brothers-in-arms. The confetti rained down in slow motion, gold and silver pieces catching the light, sticking to the sweat on his neck and collar.

But none of it filled the space she used to.

His gaze drifted up, scanning the VIP stands out of instinct. Looking for something—someone—that wasn’t there. She should’ve been here. Should’ve been the one throwing her arms around him in the garage. Should’ve been the one he kissed with champagne still dripping down his chin.

She should’ve been his after.

But he’d let the space stretch too far. Let the silence get too loud.

And now?

Now he was standing on the tallest podium in the world feeling like he’d lost the only thing that mattered.

He closed his eyes just for a second, letting the noise around him fade, letting the sun hit his face. And he made himself a promise—quiet, fierce, and absolute:

This wasn’t the win he wanted. Not really. Not without her.

But it was the one he needed.

Because now there was no room for doubt.

He was getting her back.

He’d fly to Chicago. Tomorrow. Hell, tonight if he could. He didn’t care what PR said. Didn’t care if he had to crawl through airport terminals just to get to her doorstep with nothing but jet lag and a fucking apology.

Because this? This podium?

It wasn’t the top.

She was.

His endgame. His constant. His only.

He turned just slightly, away from the cameras now, away from the noise, and looked to the horizon beyond the grandstands.

Somewhere out there, in another city, another time zone, she was watching. Or maybe not.

But either way, she’d know soon.

Because he was done waiting.

Done with “after the race.”

It was after the race now.

And he was going to go to her. Not tomorrow. Not eventually. Now.

The water had gone cold, but Lando hadn’t noticed.

He stood under the showerhead, eyes closed, forehead pressed to the tile, letting the last of the adrenaline bleed out of him. The race was done. The podium behind him. The trophy already boxed and handed off to someone from comms. He’d done all the interviews, smiled where he needed to smile, nodded when they asked about championship standings, about tire degradation, about strategy calls.

But the second he walked into the driver’s room and the door shut behind him, his entire body dropped.

And now—now it was time.

He stepped out, towel slung around his hips, grabbing his phone from the counter with wet fingers. No new messages. He didn’t expect one.

But that didn’t stop him from pulling up his flight app.

The earliest commercial out of Budapest. To Chicago. Connecting through Heathrow.

Seven hours.

Fuck that.

He was already calling McLaren logistics by the time he pulled on a hoodie over his still-damp skin. By the time Oscar knocked and peeked in—fresh from his own post-race interviews—Lando had one sneaker on and was halfway through booking a private charter.

Oscar leaned against the doorframe, chewing on the edge of a protein bar. —Mate, debrief’s in ten. Andrea’s looking for you.—

Lando didn’t even look up. —Cover for me.—

Oscar blinked. —What?—

—I’m leaving.—

—Yeah, I got that part. But are you serious? Like, right now?—

Lando zipped his bag and slung it over his shoulder. —Right now. I’ll owe you. Tell them… I’m not feeling well. Heatstroke. Exhaustion. Migraine. Whatever works.—

Oscar raised both brows. —You realize they literally saw you chug champagne and body surf through the garage like it was Spring Break?—

Lando shrugged. —Tell them I threw up after. I don’t care. Just stall for a few hours. I’ll text Zak when I’m in the air.—

Oscar sighed but nodded. He stepped forward and grabbed Lando’s wrist just before he left.

—Lan. Don’t fuck it up.—

Lando looked at him, eyes already bloodshot again.

—I’m trying to un-fuck it.—

And with that, he was gone.

The Budapest airport was buzzing when he arrived—families on holiday, F1 fans in merch, kids trailing McLaren caps and waving miniature flags. His hood was up, but it didn’t do much. A win put your face on every screen. And when you also happened to be Lando Norris?

People noticed.

—Lando!— someone called as he stepped out of the car.

He paused. Took a breath. The last thing he wanted was a distraction.

But he turned anyway.

Smiled.

Signed a few shirts. Took a few selfies. Let a little girl in a Red Bull hat tell him that she secretly wanted him to win over Max today. He laughed and crouched beside her for the photo. Told her to keep the hat but get a better team next time.

He stayed just long enough for it not to seem rude.

But his mind was already miles ahead.

Already halfway across the Atlantic.

Already with her.

He ducked through security, bag over his shoulder, cap low. A few more eyes turned. A few more cameras lifted.

He didn’t stop again.

Not because he didn’t care.

But because right now? There was only one thing he cared about.

The girl who answered his call this morning with a tired voice and a bruised heart.

The girl who still wore his hoodie on the other side of the ocean.

The girl he loved more than every podium, every trophy, every fucking championship point.

Lando clutched his passport a little tighter, shoulders hunched as he reached the gate.

The attendant smiled kindly.

He nodded once, jaw tight.

As he stepped through the doors and into the private terminal, Lando felt the shift. The storm in his chest calming just enough to let hope creep in.

He was coming.

He was almost there.

And this time, he wasn’t showing up late. He was showing up for good.

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

liked by oscarpiastri, ameliedayman, and others

lando: not breaking this 1

View all 92,013 comments

maxfewtrell: well done champ, finally treating your trophies right 😮‍💨 → lando: @maxfewtrell growth x

elysiadayman: happy for you but i better see my sister in the next dump just sayin 😌 → fanofwags: @elysiadayman she said drop the lanmelie content or else

charleslecfree: no but why is he smiling like that?? this is personal joy → lanmelietruther: @charleslecfree he probs imagined Amelie in the crowd 😭

chaoticwags: lando kissing the trophy like it’s a placeholder til he gets back to Amelie 😭 → norisimp: @chaoticwags it’s giving “sorry she couldn’t be here” energy

sunkissedgrid: he might’ve won the race but he lost not seeing her in the paddock → papayaplotline: @sunkissedgrid the bittersweet era is real

oscarpiastri: impressive work. didn’t even drop it → lando: @oscarpiastri can’t say the same for my dignity last time

lanomeliedaily: lando being dramatic and romantic even with a piece of metal 😭 → teampodiumkiss: @lanomeliedaily don’t worry he’s saving the real kiss for her

hatersunited99: winning doesn’t excuse the lack of chemistry lately → ameliecore: @hatersunited99 respectfully go cry in the mclaren shadow realm

lanfan101: he’s so unserious. like you KNOW he practiced this pose

gridwives: manifesting a reunion shot of him holding the trophy and Amelie → mclovergirl: @gridwives you just KNOW he left a spot on the jet for her 😭

pitwallprophet: not to be dramatic but this win is her coded → lanwifeyyy: @pitwallprophet i felt the power of long-distance love in that overtake

gridwives: manifesting a reunion shot of him holding the trophy and Amelie → mclovergirl: @gridwives you just KNOW he left a spot on the jet for her 😭

pitwallprophet: not to be dramatic but this win is her coded → lanwifeyyy: @pitwallprophet i felt the power of long-distance love in that overtake

lanmeliedaily: AMELIE IN THE LIKES Y’ALL I REPEAT → norisimp: @lanmeliedaily she's watching… she’s watchingggg 😭

pitlaneprincess: he kissed that trophy like he’s trying to prove something to someone → gridbestie: @pitlaneprincess bro literally said “see what i can do without you here”

maxdoesitbetter: so we all agree that smile was “i hope she saw that” coded → ameliewifeyyy: @maxdoesitbetter she SAW it. SHE LIKED IT.

chaoticwags: he said "this one’s for the girl who didn’t show up but still owns my whole heart" → norisimp: @chaoticwags don’t make me cry

ameliesgolden: lando winning with a broken heart is actually olympic level slay → lanburner: @ameliesgolden he carried that trophy and emotional baggage

paddockchaos: i just know he checked if she liked the post 5 mins after uploading → ameliearchive: @paddockchaos she liked it in 2.5 seconds babe, he got that notif FAST

landosgirlies: this was “i’m still him even when she’s not here” behavior → sunshineamelie: @landosgirlies and she said “still mine” with one like

papayabaddie: don’t get me wrong this win slayed but he looked SAD on that podium → gridgossip: @papayabaddie winning with no post-race kiss must hurt

hatersgonnahate: no Amelie = peace on the grid → fan4lanmelie: @hatersgonnahate no Amelie = Lando drinking Monster alone on a balcony

surfingwmelie: this is the power of her liking ONE post. the timeline is healing → norriedbaby: @surfingwmelie like???? she breathed on the app and everyone lost it

lanmelieupdatez: AMELIE LIKED!!! REPEAT. AMELIE IS IN THE LIKES 🔥 → gridsims: @lanmelieupdatez omg the drought is OVER → wagsarewinning: @lanmelieupdatez peace has been temporarily restored 😭🙏

chaoticwags: lando kissing that trophy like he wishes it was his gf 😭 → norisimp: @chaoticwags she saw it and LIKED IT. she still loves him y’all!!!

lovelanelie: she didn’t comment but SHE SAW. she’s WATCHING.

daydreamsofpodiums: her like healed my skin idc → lanfanofficial: @daydreamsofpodiums serotonin levels UP

trophywifevibes: she’s in the likes and he’s in love 🫶 → carloverdrive: @trophywifevibes bring on the soft launch pt 2

amelieheartslando: idk who needs to hear this but liking is modern love

felixfilms: she saw him kissing that trophy and said “fine I’ll like it” 😭 → chaoscat: @felixfilms bc she KNOWS she’s the real #1

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

The lights in the glam room buzzed low, soft and warm, casting a honey glow over the rows of brushes, palettes, and curling irons. The air smelled faintly of hairspray and nerves. Amelie sat perfectly still in the tall makeup chair, a black silk robe draped over her shoulders, her fingers fidgeting in her lap while someone gently dabbed highlighter onto the bridge of her nose.

Her phone buzzed again on the counter. She didn’t even need to look. She already knew it wasn’t him.

She’d been calling for hours.

Lando.

First during the cooldown room. Then again during the podium. Then again when the race ended. Then again after her vocal warm-ups. And again during hair. And again in the middle of her winged eyeliner, making the poor artist nearly smudge it from how fast she’d flinched when it didn’t go through.

Now her lips were done, her lashes curled, and her curls pinned into a dreamy, messy updo.

But she still hadn’t heard his voice.

And it was killing her.

She had two hours until she stepped out in front of tens of thousands of people. Her biggest show of the summer. Headlining Lollapalooza. The moment she’d worked her whole life for.

But the only thing she could focus on was the gnawing ache in her chest.

The one shaped exactly like him.

She’d texted him. Called him. Left voicemails.

Even Jack had tried.

So had Elysia.

Even Carla, her manager, whispered to her assistant mid-way through hair and told them to “call literally anyone at McLaren and find out where the hell he is.”

She checked Find My iPhone. Again.

Last location: Hungaroring Circuit. Nine hours ago.

What the actual fuck.

She wanted to scream. To cry. To cancel the entire show. But mostly—mostly she just wanted to hear his voice. To hear him say, you’ve got this, baby. To hear him tell her he was proud. That he was watching. That he believed in her.

Instead, she exhaled shakily as someone clipped the last piece of her hair into place.

—You’re all done, babe,— one of the stylists said gently, stepping back.

Amelie nodded stiffly and stood.

Immediately, someone handed her her nebulizer. The portable one. She slipped the mouthpiece between her lips, breathing in the cool mist, her other hand clutching her phone. She paced the room, letting the vapor soothe her chest while the muffled beat of her own song played from the phone speaker.

She wasn’t even singing along.

Just listening. Half-heartedly. Barely even hearing the words.

Someone spoke again behind her—Elysia, maybe—but she didn’t register it.

Then, finally, she turned.

Took the mouthpiece out. Her voice quiet but firm.

—Can I get the room? Just… a few minutes. Please.—

Everyone paused. Then, one by one, nodded and filed out. Stylists, assistants, lighting crew. Carla hesitated, then gave her arm a reassuring squeeze before slipping out too.

The second the door closed, Elysia pulled out her phone again and tried one more time.

Still nothing.

She sighed, eyes tight with frustration. Then turned to Jack, who had just stepped in from the hallway.

—Get Alex. Please.—

Jack didn’t ask. He just went.

Two minutes later, the door cracked open again. Amelie was sitting on the floor now, back against the vanity, nebulizer resting beside her. Her eyes were red—not from crying, not yet—but from that kind of internal panic that never made it to your throat but lived in your chest.

Alex stepped in slowly. Closed the door behind him.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just crossed the room and sat down beside her, his long legs stretching out on the carpet.

—You alright?— he asked softly.

She didn’t look at him. Just whispered, —I can’t breathe.—

He glanced at the nebulizer and raised an eyebrow. —Pretty sure that’s doing its job.—

She huffed. A weak, humorless sound. Her hand tightened around her phone again.

—I just needed him today.—

Alex looked at her. Really looked.

And then, carefully, very carefully, he said, —Maybe today’s about you needing you.—

Amelie closed her eyes.

—I don’t feel like enough right now.—

—You are.—

—You don’t know that.—

—I do. Because you’ve been enough since before he ever showed up. Because I’ve seen you burn up a stage when you hadn’t slept in two days. Because I’ve watched you hold yourself together when the world tried to rip you apart. Because even now, when you’re freaking out, you still managed to finish hair and makeup like a damn goddess.—

That earned a tiny laugh.

Alex leaned back, resting his head on the vanity.

—You know, Lando would lose his entire mind if he saw you like this right now,— he added, eyes closed, a smirk tugging at his mouth. —Barefoot, radiant, looking like you run the universe while literally attached to a medical device. It’s peak Amelie energy.—

She sniffled, laughing under her breath, wiping her thumb under one eye.

—You’re not helping.—

—I’m not trying to help. I’m trying to remind you.— He turned his head, finally opening his eyes to look at her. —That he might be the one, yeah. But you’ve always been the fire. Even when he’s not here. Especially when he’s not here.—

Amelie stared at the floor, the soft thrum of the bass from the outdoor speakers pulsing beneath them. The crowd was getting louder.

She had maybe an hour.

One hour to pull herself together. One hour to walk out there like her heart wasn’t halfway across the world.

She swallowed hard, her hand going still against the phone in her lap.

—Do you think he forgot?— she whispered.

Alex didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out and gently took the phone from her hand, setting it on the vanity above them.

—No. I think if there’s one thing in this entire damn world that Lando Norris could never do, it’s forget you.—

Amelie closed her eyes.

Just for a second.

Just long enough to let herself believe it.

She took a breath—long, deep, steady.

Then another.

And then, without a word, she stood.

Alex followed, dusting off his jeans as she stepped back in front of the mirror. Her face was flushed now, lips slightly parted as she looked at her reflection like she was seeing herself for the first time all day.

She reached for her in-ears on the counter.

Then turned to him, a quiet fire building back in her chest.

—Alright. Let’s go.—

Alex blinked. —You’re good?—

She nodded, chin lifting, the shimmer in her eyes no longer panic, but purpose.

—I’m not waiting for him to save me. Not tonight.— She smiled, the kind that always meant danger on stage. —Let them scream for me.—

And with that, she grabbed her mic pack, slipped the nebulizer into her dressing pouch, and marched toward the door.

No hesitation.

No fear.

Just her.

Just Amelie.

And behind her, Alex let out a low whistle, shaking his head with a grin.

—They’re not ready for you. Not even close.—

She didn’t look back.

She didn’t have to.

She was already burning.

The concrete beneath her boots vibrated with the rhythm of the crowd.

Amelie stood at the edge of the backstage tunnel, heart thundering against her ribcage harder than the subwoofers shaking the earth. Lights strobed across the open field, smoke machines puffing fog like dragons. She could see the silhouettes of fans packed together like waves in the ocean—stretching farther than she’d ever seen.

It was unreal.

Carla came up beside her, clipboard in hand, earpiece buzzing with chatter. Her smile was nothing short of electric.

—They just confirmed it,— she said, eyes wide. —You broke the record. One hundred and twelve thousand. That’s the highest single-show turnout in Lolla history. Ever.—

Amelie blinked. —Wait... what?—

Carla nodded, almost breathless. —You heard me. One. Hundred. And. Twelve. Thousand. They’re here for you, Amelie.—

—What the actual fuck,— she whispered, a stunned laugh escaping her lips.

She stepped forward instinctively, needing to see it again—really see it. The sea of lights. The chants. The handmade signs and glittering posters and tears already in the eyes of people who hadn’t even heard her sing a word yet.

Her name echoed, rhythmic and loud. Over and over.

Amelie. Amelie. Amelie.

Someone handed her a water bottle. Another clipped on her mic pack. She barely noticed. Her throat was dry. Her palms were sweating. She was more alive than she’d ever felt—and somehow still floating.

Just as she was about to pull her in-ears from her pouch, she heard her name again—this time softer, closer.

—Meels.—

She turned.

Her parents were standing just off to the side, right behind the light rigging, eyes shining with pride. Her mother’s hands were clasped over her mouth, trying not to cry. Her father already had a tear tracking down his cheek.

—Mamá... Papá...—

Amelie moved toward them instinctively, and they wrapped her in a tight hug, the kind that could tether her even as the world tilted around her.

Her mom whispered something in Spanish that made her eyes sting. Her dad kissed her forehead.

—No matter how many people are out there, you were always already our star,— he murmured into her hair.

She didn’t trust herself to speak. Just nodded and clung tighter, her heartbeat syncing with theirs.

But then...

Bzzz Bzzz.

She pulled away at the sound, blinking down at her phone lighting up in her hand.

Lan🧡 calling…

Her breath caught. Her fingers moved before she could think.

She answered.

—Hi.—

His voice hit her like a warm wave. —Hi, baby.—

She smiled, suddenly sixteen again and hiding in greenrooms just to hear his voice before rehearsal.

—Where the hell have you been? You disappeared after the podium like you got abducted by aliens.—

He chuckled, low and familiar. —Yeah… sorry about that. Had a bit of a chaotic post-race situation. I’ve been meaning to call you for the past hour but I kept getting pulled away.—

She closed her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. —You won. Again. And I didn’t even get to tell you how proud I am of you. You little podium demon.—

—Podium demon? That’s new. I kinda like it,— Lando teased. —Does the podium demon get a song dedication tonight or...?—

—You’re ridiculous.—

—You love it.—

She did. God, she did. Even now, when the nerves were twisting her gut and 112,000 people were chanting her name, his voice had the power to settle something deep inside her.

—Are you watching the stream?— she asked softly, stepping away from the team again, hiding behind a speaker stack.

—Of course I am. You kidding me? I’ve got my phone, iPad, and TV all tuned in. I’m basically your personal production truck right now.—

She laughed, light and real. The tension in her shoulders eased.

—You’re insane,— she said.

—I’m yours,— he replied. —Which basically means I have a front-row seat to history tonight.—

She didn’t say anything for a moment. Just breathed, the weight in her chest softening, her grip on the mic loosening.

—Lan,— she whispered. —I’m scared.—

—I know. But you’ve never let fear stop you before.— His voice dipped gentle. —Breathe. Listen to the crowd. That’s your army out there, baby. You already won.—

She swallowed hard. Her eyes pricked again.

—I just… I wish you were here.—

—Me too,— he said, quiet. —But I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.—

She nodded even though he couldn’t see her.

—Sing your heart out, Ames. Show them why no one else even comes close.—

Her jaw tightened with emotion.

—You better be singing along,— she warned.

—Only if you start with my favorite one.—

She smirked. —So basically anything that mentions your name? Got it.—

He laughed. —Damn right.—

A call crackled in her in-ear. Her cue.

Carla peeked from the tunnel, giving her the “we’re ready” signal.

—Lan,— she said softly.

—Yeah?—

—I love you.—

There was a pause. A smile in his silence.

—I love you more.—

She hung up, eyes glinting under the stage lights.

And when she walked up that ramp, into the blinding roar of 112,000 souls, her feet never touched the ground.

Because for the first time all day, she didn’t feel alone.

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

liked by oscarpiastri, ameliedayman, and others

amdaymanupdates: AMELIE TOOK OVER LOLLA 🔥💋 Amelie hit the stage at Lollapalooza Chicago today and let’s just say… mother ate. Vocals were crisp, energy unmatched, and the Manchild scream-sing moment? Iconic. Her first Lolla set and she owned every second. Chicago was NOT ready.

View all 104,013 comments

f1slaysdaily: she really said "oh you're winning races? let me headline Lolla" 💅 → lanmeliecore: @f1slaysdaily dual income power couple actually

lanmama: girl how u at lolla when your man just kissed a trophy in Hungary 😭 → ameliasbf: @lanmama she’s in her ✨independent baddie era✨ we respect it → lanfan91: @lanmama she liked his post. we good.

daymansworld: nah imagine winning the Hungarian GP and your gf is at Lolla performing for 100k people 😭 → mclanmelie: @daymansworld the range this couple has is insane → benbbybenny: @daymansworld his real prize is backstage access tbh

maxiel_rideordie: ppl saying they fighting while she out here posting thirst traps from Lolla and he’s winning races 😭 → f1gfsupreme: @maxiel_rideordie the delusion some of y’all run with is wild

elystans: Amelie out here in Chicago looking like that and y’all really think Lando’s mad?? be serious → thursdaylights: @elystans he probably watched the whole set on a private stream with Benny on his lap don’t play

lanmeliedefense: imagine being mad when your gf is Amelie Dayman and she still shows up in your likes with the softest “proud of you” energy → daymanshalo: @lanmeliedefense she’s his Roman Empire and he’s her soft launch forever 🫶

f1flirtzone: bro lando wins hungary and she performs at lolla right after?? they're still so in sync it's scary → daymangf: @f1flirtzone soulmate agenda stays winning 💅🏽

lanmelie4eva: i just KNOW he watched her whole set 😭 → wifeydayman: @lanmelie4eva with his trophy in one hand and her stream pulled up on the other 💀

florasismp: she didn’t even mention him in the show… 😬 → lanmamacita: @florasismp not every moment is for public consumption babe let them be private sometimes → ameliedefender: @florasismp meanwhile she liked his trophy post 0.3 seconds after it went up lmao

mcbutmakeitsoft: imagine winning a gp and ur gf shuts down lolla the same day. like be serious. → quadbabie: @mcbutmakeitsoft if my man isn’t on that level i don’t want him

catmomandchaos: the fact they haven’t been in the same place in WEEKS is making me so nervous → bratz4lando: @catmomandchaos maybe they’re just being hot and busy? not everything is a fight 💅🏼 → lanxmelcurse: @catmomandchaos idk the silence is LOUD

norrrrystan: lanmelie breakup arc or PR silence era?? → benandbjornz: @norrrrystan they are LITERALLY just famous and overwhelmed leave them alone 😭

felipebaby: nah bc imagine performing in front of 80k ppl and your bf just casually won a whole grand prix 😭 couple of the century fr → wagsworld: @felipebaby they’re THAT couple and we’re just watching it unfold like peasants 🙏

mclarenmuse: they’re both being annoyingly successful right now and it’s rude of them not to do it together

bennyandbjorn: she’s in CHICAGO and he’s in MONACO… what happened to "you’re my home" huh 😭 → fluffylanmelie: @bennyandbjorn STOP I WAS JUST STARTING TO COPE 💔 → lanmelieupdates: @bennyandbjorn let’s not panic yet, they’re probably just both busy af rn

ameliecore: why does this era feel like the pre-soft launch again 😭 → mclanmelie: @ameliecore not the regression omg → ciscadayman: @ameliecore don't manifest that please i’m fragile

chaoticwags: she didn’t say a WORD about the win and he didn’t say a WORD about her lolla debut??? → noristoes: @chaoticwags the tension is PALPABLE → quadgang: @chaoticwags i’m sure they’re fine but like. why are they quiet.

soft4nando: idk man, she looked a little sad after her last song. → mclmommy: @soft4nando not everything’s about Lando 😭 maybe she was just tired → maxxxybby: @soft4nando if they fought i wanna know WHO started it

amelieupdates: she’s glowing on stage and i KNOW he’s watching with a stupid smile → helmetkissed: @amelieupdates probably texting her “ur hot” while holding a champagne bottle 💀

felixandthedrama: they better show up in italy holding hands or i’m throwing myself in the tiber

jordandaisy: not me watching lolla AND rewatching the post-race interviews like a psycho → idowhatiwant: @jordandaisy obsessed with our parasocial relationship

lan4ever: listen if we made it through the olivia softblock era we can survive this silence → lore4amelie: @lan4ever barely. we BARELY made it 💀

gossipgrid: if they did break up, wouldn’t we already know? 👀

thelanmelieupdate: the way neither of them have posted together in WEEKS but still somehow scream “in love” → pitwallproblems: @thelanmelieupdate you can FEEL the tension like a string about to snap

amelieburnbook: don’t care if they’re fighting or not. if lando kissed me after winning a gp i’d forgive him for breathing wrong → wagsandwine: @amelieburnbook one podium kiss and the whole fandom would forget the cold war

daymanhub: y’all she literally liked the post in 0.2 seconds she’s still his #1 fan → norispodiums: @daymanhub she got lando’s post notifs ON be fr → lan4wife: @daymanhub soul linked that’s all

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

The hotel was quiet in that way it only is after midnight—dim lighting, soft jazz playing faintly through hidden speakers, the smell of polished floors and late room service still hanging in the air.

The SUV rolled to a gentle stop under the covered entrance, headlights cutting briefly across the glass doors before dimming. Her parents and Elysia were the first to step out, still buzzing from the high of the night, her dad joking with the driver as he helped her mom with her scarf.

Amelie waited a beat longer, the door opening beside her with a soft click.

She stepped out slowly, her damp hair in a braid over one shoulder, her face scrubbed clean of makeup. Baggy jeans cuffed at the ankles, Lolla artist tee swallowed her frame—comfort clothes. Post-adrenaline armor. She tucked her phone into her back pocket just as the screaming started.

—AME-LIE! AME-LIE!—

Fans gathered behind the barricades, their signs waving, phones raised, eyes wide and teary.

She blinked, stunned.

Her team moved closer instinctively, a ring of security flanking her gently, but she shook her head and smiled, stepping toward the line.

Just for a second.

—Hi, loves,— she said, voice warm but soft as she crouched slightly to take photos with a few. She signed hats, a vinyl cover someone shoved forward, even a neon poster of her Lolla look that made her laugh.

—You were amazing tonight!— a girl shouted.

Amelie’s heart squeezed. —Thank you. Seriously. I mean it.—

After a few more hugs and quick poses, she gave a little wave and mouthed I love you before turning back toward the entrance. The hotel doors slid open automatically, the air conditioning wrapping her in quiet.

Inside, her family was already waiting by the elevators.

She jogged over, slipping between Elysia and Jack as the doors pinged open.

—That was madness,— Jack grinned. —I thought the balcony was gonna fall off the way people were jumping.—

Amelie laughed, leaning into her. —I honestly blacked out at one point. I couldn’t even see the end of the crowd.—

—You were brilliant,— her dad said proudly.

Elysia smiled, brushing Amelie's braid over her shoulder. —You okay now? After the glam room meltdown?—

Amelie rolled her eyes. —Shut up.—

Jack nudged her. —You going to bed or still running on popstar energy?—

—I was thinking of watching a movie or something. Anyone want to join? Room service and reruns of Friends? No?— she offered, half expecting at least one of them to say yes.

But they all shook their heads a little too quickly.

—Nah, I’m knackered,— Jack said, stretching his arms with a yawn far too theatrical to be genuine.

—Same. My feet are killing me,— Elysia added, suddenly very interested in her phone.

Her parents exchanged a knowing look before her mom smiled warmly and kissed Amelie’s forehead. —You deserve some time to yourself, mija. We’ll see you in the morning, okay?—

Amelie blinked. Her eyes narrowed just a little. Weird. Usually Jack would be the first to crash on her hotel couch with a bowl of popcorn, and Elysia would already be placing a room service order for churros and wine.

But… whatever. Maybe they really were tired.

—Okay… goodnight then,— she said slowly, still eyeing them suspiciously.

They all mumbled sleepy goodnights as they stepped off on their floor.

The elevator kept rising.

Her fingers drummed lightly against her thigh.

And then it dinged.

She stepped out into the quiet hallway and padded down the carpeted corridor until she reached the door to her suite. Her keycard slid through the lock, a soft click echoing in the silence.

She pushed the door open.

And froze.

Her breath caught somewhere between her ribs and her throat, her fingers still wrapped around the keycard. Her heart stopped and then restarted so violently she almost stumbled.

There he was.

Lando.

Standing in the middle of her hotel suite, eyes glassy and tired and stunned right back at her. And in his arms...

The biggest bouquet of yellow tulips she had ever seen.

She didn’t move.

Neither did he.

They just stared at each other, like if they looked away the moment might vanish, like maybe this was a dream they both needed to hold still to believe.

She breathed first.

—Hi,— she whispered, voice breaking around the single syllable.

Lando's lips parted, and he said it back just as softly, just as fragile.

—Hi.—

She stepped inside slowly, letting the door close behind her. The sound of the latch clicking shut felt deafening. Final. Real.

He was still there.

She took a shaky breath, her eyes wet as she looked at the flowers.

—Are those… for me?—

Lando’s voice was rough, like he hadn’t spoken in hours. —Yeah. I, uh…— he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, the other gripping the bouquet like a lifeline. —I wanted to give you a tulip for every person in the crowd tonight. But the florist looked at me like I was out of my mind. Said that was… impossible.—

Amelie let out a wet laugh, tears rolling down her cheeks now. She stepped forward and took the bouquet from him, clutching it to her chest like it weighed nothing, like it was everything.

He cupped her face gently with one hand, thumb brushing beneath her eye. —So I had to settle for the biggest one they had.—

She smiled, teeth trembling from the force of holding it all in. She bent slightly to place the bouquet carefully on the coffee table behind him. Then she grabbed his hand, twining their fingers together without hesitation.

—Come here.—

She pulled him toward the bedroom, slow and quiet. He followed like he always did—like gravity.

He thought she wanted to talk. That she needed answers or explanations. And he’d give them all. Every single one.

But the second he sat down on the edge of the bed, she climbed on top of him and kissed him.

No words. No delay. Just her mouth on his, hands in his curls, knees bracketing his hips as he fell back with a quiet gasp against the pillows.

And fuck, he needed this.

Needed her.

Her skin, her scent, her weight pressed down against him like reality finally catching up. Like oxygen filling a collapsed lung.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her impossibly closer, let his lips move with hers in that slow, desperate way they always did when time had passed too long. Her fingers threaded through his hair, her nose bumping against his cheek as she kissed him deeper, harder, like he was the anchor she’d needed all week.

He whispered her name like a prayer against her jaw.

And she whispered his like an answer.

Breathing, finally.

Together again.

Her lips trailed down from his mouth to his jaw, then lower—to the spot just beneath his ear she knew made him shiver. Lando’s breath caught, his hands clutching tighter at her waist as her kisses dropped to his neck, slow and languid and deliberate. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, fast and fragile, could feel her trying to drown it all out in touch and skin and closeness.

His head fell back against the pillows, a soft sound slipping from his lips.

—Ames...—

She kissed him again, a little harder now, hands moving to the hem of his shirt like she was in a race to escape the world, to disappear into him. Like she didn’t want to feel anything but this.

But he knew this pattern. He knew her.

She always did this when she was scared.

When she didn’t want to talk.

And fuck, he wanted her—wanted this. He’d craved it every minute he’d spent apart from her.

But not like this. Not without the words.

Not with all the things still aching in the silence between them.

He sat up slightly, breath still uneven, his hand finding her wrist gently.

—Amelie.—

She didn’t stop. Just kissed a little higher, back to his jaw.

—Ames, baby... stop.—

Her lips hesitated. Then started again, desperate.

He took her shoulders and shifted her back slightly, not pushing her away but enough to make her look at him.

Her brows furrowed, eyes glassy.

—What’s wrong?— she whispered.

Lando's voice was low, careful. —This. You… trying to distract us. You used to do this all the time, remember? When things got heavy.—

She swallowed. Looked down.

—It’s not important anymore,— she murmured. —You’re here. That’s what matters.—

He reached up and touched her face, holding her still.

—If you really think you’re not a priority to me… then we have to talk.—

She blinked at him.

And then her whole body seemed to deflate. Like the fight leaked out of her in one long, quiet exhale.

She climbed off his lap slowly and sat next to him, pulling her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Her eyes were shining. Her lip trembled.

He turned toward her, one leg folded beneath him, one hand resting over hers.

—You can tell me everything,— he said gently. —Even if it hurts. Especially if it hurts.—

Amelie nodded once, barely.

The silence between them stretched, heavy and aching. Until she finally whispered,

—I thought you’d given up on us.—

Lando’s breath hitched. —What? No. Ames, I...no.—

She looked at him, finally, and her eyes were brimming. —You were gone. Not just physically. I mean… gone. I’d wake up and fall asleep wondering if I still had you. If maybe you were just waiting for the right moment to disappear completely.—

Her voice cracked at the end, and she turned her face away, like she was ashamed to have said it out loud.

Lando moved closer, gently cupping her knee.

—I hated that you weren’t there in Belgium,— she continued, voice barely above a whisper. —It wasn’t about the dinner. Or even the silence. It was the knowing that if I didn’t reach for you… you wouldn’t reach for me first.—

Lando’s mouth parted, his chest rising sharply.

—I wanted you to show up for me, Lan. Not just because I was struggling. But because you wanted to. Because I matter even when I’m not falling apart.—

He swallowed hard, emotion choking his voice. —You do matter. You’re not just… some checkbox I forget to tick off. You’re everything, Amelie. I just... I got overwhelmed. And instead of letting you in, I pushed you out. Again.—

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffling.

—Why didn’t you just say that then? Why let me think I was the only one who cared?—

Lando’s eyes glossed over, and he exhaled a broken laugh. —Because I didn’t know how to admit I was failing you. And it felt like… if I didn’t talk about it, maybe it wouldn’t be real. Maybe I could fix it before you noticed how bad I was at all of this.—

She stared at him, breathing slow and shaky.

—But I did notice.—

—I know,— he whispered.

He reached for her hand again, threading their fingers tightly. —And I hated myself for letting it get that far. For hurting you when all I’ve ever wanted was to love you right.—

Amelie leaned her forehead against their joined hands, tears dropping quietly into her lap.

—We promised each other no more running,— she said.

—And I came back the second I could,— he whispered. —I missed my own goddamn debrief to get here. I left my team confused as hell. Oscar had to cover for me. I just... I couldn’t let another night go by without fixing this. Without you knowing that you're not second to anything.—

She looked up at him, and for the first time all night, something softened in her expression.

He let go of her hand only to cup both sides of her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears still falling.

—I’m sorry I made you feel small. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. But I’m here now. And I swear, I see you. I always have. Even when I’ve been too much of an idiot to show it.—

Amelie choked out a laugh, even as she cried harder.

She leaned into his touch, resting her forehead to his.

—I don’t need perfection,— she said. —I just need you. Not half of you. Not the version that shows up when it’s convenient. You.—

—I’m all in,— he said. —Every part. Every day. Even the ones I fuck up.—

She nodded slowly, a tear sliding down her nose and onto his cheek.

He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then her temple, then her jaw—soft, reverent, grounding.

And she let herself fall forward into his arms, her hands curled into his shirt, her heart finally easing after days of ache.

Lando’s fingers traced lazy circles on her back as they lay tangled beneath the hotel duvet, the city lights casting a soft golden glow through the sheer curtains. Her head rested on his chest, rising and falling with each of his slow, steady breaths—finally calm again. Their legs were intertwined, and he kept brushing his nose into her hair like he couldn’t stop reminding himself she was really there.

Neither of them had said much in the last hour.

They’d talked. They’d cried.

And then they kissed—so much it was almost ridiculous.

Not rushed. Not needy. Just slow, endless kisses between whispered I missed yous and stupid little I like your braid comments and I can't believe I made it here jokes. He kissed the top of her ear. Her shoulder. Her eyelid. She kissed his chest and jaw and the corner of his grin until it faded into something sleepy and content.

It felt like falling in love again. But deeper this time.

Now, Amelie’s fingers were brushing absentmindedly over his ribs beneath his shirt, her eyelids drooping.

Lando looked down, his voice low and drowsy against her hair.

—You still wanna go to Ibiza?—

She blinked up at him sleepily. —Of course I do. Why? Are you bailing on me now?—

He smiled, tugging her closer by the waist. —Nah. Just making sure. I didn’t know if… after everything...—

She reached up, tracing the edge of his jaw with her knuckle.

—I want to go. Especially now. I think we both need to just… unplug. Do absolutely nothing. Lay in the sun. Swim. Eat ice cream. Pretend the world doesn’t exist for a few days.—

—And maybe get a tan that lasts longer than 48 hours,— he murmured into her neck, making her giggle.

She hummed. —We could stay at that villa near the cove. The one with the outdoor shower you liked.—

Lando’s hand drifted down to her hip. —You remember that?—

She smirked sleepily against his skin. —You kept saying the water pressure changed your life.—

He laughed. —It did. That shower’s in my top five favorite memories. Right under this one.—

Amelie tilted her head up, brows raised. —Tonight makes top five? Even after the crying? The makeup talk? The 112,000 people who almost gave me a heart attack?—

Lando nodded, dead serious. —Number four, actually. You showing up in that giant shirt and braid with no makeup and making me cry is something I’m not recovering from anytime soon.—

She rolled her eyes and kissed his collarbone. —You're such a sap.—

—Only for you, Ames. Always for you.—

Her smile softened. She tucked her head back under his chin, and he wrapped both arms around her again like he never wanted to let go.

And for the first time in over a week, he didn’t feel like he had to keep one eye open or worry about what was falling apart while he slept.

He had her.

She was here.

And whatever came next—Ibiza, racing, more of life’s chaos—they’d face it the way they always did.

Together.

He kissed her hair one last time, whispering, —Night, baby.—

Amelie’s voice came out muffled against his chest. —Night, Lan.—

And just like that, he slipped into the kind of sleep he hadn’t had since Belgium.

The kind that only came when she was beside him.

[kathlare]

Hii, are you still updating the 2020 and 2021 chapters?? I’d love to see more texts between Amelie and her friends about Lando during that period of time (like for example when they had their first time, when Amelie realises she’s in love with Lando etc etc) sending sm love for you and this series x

I’m still updating them! 💌 I just finished 2021 and I’m starting 2022 now—hoping to have that year done by next month so I can keep moving forward. Thank you so much for the love and support, it truly means a lot! 🫶

[kathlare]

when is the next post!!!??? I can’t wait this long on a cliffhanger!!!!!

The new chapter will be posted today at 3:00 PM PST! 🥳 Also, just so everyone knows and there’s no more cliffhanger panic 😅—from now on, new chapters will be posted on Wednesdays at 5:00 PM PST and Saturdays at 12:00 PM PST. If for any reason I can’t post on those days, I’ll let you know, but otherwise everything will go up as planned. Thank you so much for your patience and excitement! 💖

[kathlare]

Hii!! When is the new part coming- my heart can’t take this 😭😭😭💔💔

It’s coming out today at 3:00 PM PST 🫶💔 Thank you so much for being patient — it’s a long chapter and I really hope you like it!! 🥹✨

[kathlare]

after this angst ( which was amazing btw don’t get wrong wrong) we NEED THEM TO MAKE UP please, lanmelie needs to be okay again😭

Ahh I know, the angst was a lot 😭💔 but hang in there — Lanmelie will get their moment again soon! 💕 The chapter about the Hungarian Grand Prix / Lollapalooza will be out today at 3:00 PM PST — hope you love it!! 🫶✨

[kathlare]

grave

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando and Amelie each face the weight of their own silence and misunderstandings.

Wordcount: 6.0 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

July 31st, 2025 - Mérida, México

The late afternoon sun dipped low over Mérida, casting a warm, honeyed glow that made the terracotta roof tiles of the family home almost shimmer. On the porch, Amelie sat with her canvas propped up in front of her, a paintbrush poised between her fingers. The breeze tangled softly through her hair, carrying the faint sounds of the distant street and the occasional chirp of cicadas. Through her wireless earbuds, a playlist hummed quietly — a mix of soft indie and old Mexican ballads that she and Lando used to sneakily share back when they were just friends, long before the world leaned in to watch them.

She dipped her brush into the muted greens and browns on her palette, the color of the garden just beyond the porch, and swept a slow stroke across the canvas. But the colors felt dull, the shapes indistinct — the weight in her chest made it hard to focus.

Behind the kitchen window, Victoria, Elysia, and Jack stood close together, their eyes fixed on her like hawks circling prey. Victoria's usually bright smile was gone, replaced by the furrow of a mother who knows her child is hurting but can’t quite reach through.

—She’s shutting down again, isn’t she?— Victoria whispered, voice low, almost breaking the fragile calm.

—Yeah,— Jack muttered, arms crossed, jaw tight. —She hasn’t said a word about Belgium. And she didn’t even smile when Cajeta tried to climb inside her suitcase this morning. That dog’s a damn clown.—

—She won’t talk unless she’s ready,— Elysia said softly, but even she sounded unconvinced.

Victoria sighed, brushing her hands off on a kitchen towel. —If we wait for her to be ready, she’s going to implode. Again.—

Jack exhaled. —Okay, so what? We just corner her?— He raised his brows, knowing damn well how that would end.

Victoria turned to the drawer beside the fridge, pulled out an old ceramic bowl, and set it on the counter with a determined clink.

—We raffle it.—

Elysia blinked. —Are you serious? We’re raffling who gets emotionally wrecked today?—

—Yes,— Victoria said calmly, already grabbing three scraps of paper. —Because I’m too old to be screamed at, Jack will cry, and your sister needs someone who won’t push. It’s fair. Let fate decide.—

Jack groaned, rubbing his temples. —This family needs therapy.—

—You can bring that up at Thanksgiving,— Victoria muttered, handing them each a paper. —Go on. Fold. Drop it in.—

They all tossed their names in, and Victoria shook the bowl.

A moment of silence.

Then Elysia reached in.

She unfolded the paper.

Read it.

—Fuck me,— she whispered.

Jack laughed, immediately backing out of the kitchen like it was a war zone. —Better you than me. Godspeed.—

—You know she’s going to chew me up alive,— Elysia hissed.

Victoria patted her shoulder. —Just don’t be a dumbass about it. Be soft.—

Elysia opened her mouth to protest, but before she could step outside...

—TITINAAAAA!—

Carlota’s voice rang through the front yard like a tiny missile of sunshine, and a blur of pink barreled past the porch gate, curls bouncing with every frantic step. Amelie looked up just in time to catch her niece full-on launching into her lap.

—¡Ay, mi amor! Careful!— Amelie exclaimed, catching Carlota and wrapping her arms tightly around her.

—You didn’t tell us you were coming back!— Carlota pouted dramatically, bottom lip sticking out.

Amelie kissed her temple. —I didn’t know I was either.—

Elysia paused in the doorway and let out a relieved breath. Saved by a five-year-old.

Stella trailed behind with Emilio on her hip, Chequito holding her hand, and little Olivia strapped to her chest. —We brought dinner,— she called. —But apparently Carlota had other priorities.—

Amelie stood, Carlota still clinging to her like a koala. She greeted Stella and the kids with soft smiles, letting them pull her into the house like nothing was wrong.

But Elysia saw it.

The crack in her armor.

That tightness around her eyes.

The way she’d been staring at her phone earlier when she thought no one was watching.

And she knew.

Later. She’d ask later. After the chaos. After the kids were asleep. After Amelie had time to breathe.

Because something had happened in Belgium.

And no matter how much Amelie tried to bury it under playlists and paint, it was bleeding through the cracks.

Elysia watched her sister disappear down the hallway with Carlota still in her arms and whispered under her breath:

—Fuck. I’m so not built for this.—

But even still, she followed.

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

liked by stelladayman, emmachamberlain, and others

ameliedayman: past days at home 💛

View all 39,029 comments

stelladayman: pottery?? now that’s character development → ameliedayman: @stelladayman i made a bowl. it’s very ugly. i love it

jackdayman: don’t post me sleeping unless u want me to sue → ameliedayman: @jackdayman sue me then. i dare you.

mclovenorris: not a single Lando in sight... hmm 🧐 → lanfan4eva: @mclovenorris she really said solo soft girl era

maxielover44: this feels like the softest breakup ever?? 😭 → pitlaneangel: @maxielover44 girl relax it’s just a lime and a braid

charles_leclerc: did you read the book or just take the selfie tho → ameliedayman: @charles_leclerc rude and unnecessary. both.

elysiadayman: i made you that braid btw → ameliedayman: @elysiadayman lies and slander

lanfan999: the braid, the boat, the gym… it’s giving “i’m healing”

f1girlie: no bc she was in Belgium like 2 days ago with him and now she’s in a pottery class like nothing happened → lanmelieupdates: @f1girlie Lando probably taking pics of her ugly bowl off camera rn chill 💀

teamnorris: idk it’s giving avoidance → norrisstan88: @teamnorris or it’s giving “normal relationship where people do their own thing sometimes” lol

ameliedaymanfanclub: i don’t need Lando in every post to know she’s glowing ✨

landomum: she deserves peace and pottery → lanfan4life: @landomum she already has both if she’s with Lando 🤭

chaoticwags: WHERE’S LANDO WHERE’S THE BOY → lanmama: @chaoticwags probably making her more limes for that kitchen pic chill 😭 → carbonsmoothie: @chaoticwags girl let her breathe 😭😭

f1hotgirlclub: no bc that selfie with just her top and a book?? that’s a breakup photo if i’ve ever seen one → norisbabe: @f1hotgirlclub STOP NO I REFUSE 😭

officiallanmelie: soft girl era unlocked but like... why does it feel off → lanfanpage: @officiallanmelie nah bc it’s giving emotionally distant couple trying to make it work → amelielover: @officiallanmelie or maybe she just had a chill week?? y’all are so dramatic

oscarin4ever: if i had free time and a hot bf like Lando I WOULD BE CLINGING TO HIM → redflaggf1: @oscarin4ever maybe she’s stronger than us

dramainthedrs: no bc i can’t tell if this is healing or heartbreak → amelieinspired: @dramainthedrs same girl it’s like peaceful but suspicious

lan4lyfe: the streets saying she stayed in while Lando was at the MTC… → wagscentral: @lan4lyfe they're either fighting or nesting. pick a side

schecoperez: boat again? you’re officially part fish now → ameliedayman: @schecoperez you're just mad because i didn’t invite you this time 😌 → stellaperez: @schecoperez she said no dads allowed 💅🏻

hannahmeloche: this is SO you-coded it hurts → ameliedayman: @hannahmeloche “lime braid pottery loneliness” the new fragrance

georgerussell63: pls confirm jack is still breathing → jackdayman: @georgerussell63 barely. i live in fear of every nap now → ameliedayman: @jackdayman the price of being beautiful

alex_albon: you took a pottery class without me?? fake. → ameliedayman: @alex_albon come over i’ll make you a mug that leaks

emmachamberlain: braid? book? boat? you’re one matcha away from becoming a whole lifestyle brand → ameliedayman: @emmachamberlain i already filed the trademark babes

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

The Monaco sun filtered through the half-open blinds, casting golden slits across the bedroom floor. The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the air conditioning and the occasional soft rustle of laundry being folded. Lando stood barefoot in joggers and a hoodie, sleeves rolled to his elbows, folding one of Amelie’s oversized sweaters—a soft, worn thing that still smelled like her vanilla shampoo and eucalyptus oil.

He smiled faintly at the scent. It was the sweater she wore almost every night when they stayed in, curled on the couch with her legs tangled under his, Benny snoozing between them like a barrier neither of them dared disturb. He folded it with care and placed it on the growing pile of her clean clothes.

As he reached for the next item in the basket—one of her tiny tank tops that he was pretty sure was technically classified as a piece of string—something caught his eye in the bottom drawer.

It was barely visible beneath a couple of old McLaren tees, tucked way in the back like it had been forgotten.

A box. Plain. Unmarked. White edges dulled slightly with time.

Lando frowned and set the top down, crouching to tug the box free. Benny, sensing something important was happening, padded softly into the room, tail high and curious. Björn followed with a bored yawn, flicking his tail like this better be worth his time.

Lando held the box in his hands for a second, just staring. Then he sat down on the floor, cross-legged between laundry piles, and opened it.

And everything stopped.

Inside, it was a museum of them.

Photos. Movie stubs. Wristbands from concerts. A dried-out daisy from some random roadside in Tuscany. Notes scribbled on napkins in restaurants. A plane ticket from Mexico City—October 2023. The wrapper of that chocolate bar he’d brought her in Budapest when she was sick and grumpy and made him sleep on the couch for making fun of her red nose.

There was even a Polaroid from 2020—back when they were just friends, still playing Valorant at midnight and pretending they weren’t falling for each other. She had eyeliner smudged under her eyes, her tongue stuck out at the camera. His face, blurry in the background, was turned toward her instead of the lens.

She was always the subject.

Even when she didn’t know it.

He let out a breath, slow and shaky, his thumb brushing over a note folded in half like it had lived in a wallet once. Her handwriting. Messy, loopy, slanted to the left.

He unfolded it with trembling fingers.

Lan, You’re my favorite place to land.

Short. Simple. Written, he remembered, on the back of a receipt the night before her flight to New York for Wicked. She’d left it on the bathroom mirror for him to find. He hadn’t even told her how much that line fucked him up at the time. He just kissed her hard when she came back and tucked the note into his wallet like it was a goddamn relic.

Now it just felt like a punch to the ribs.

Lando leaned back against the side of the bed, blinking up at the ceiling as the weight of the silence around him settled in. Benny padded into his lap without asking, curling up with a soft meow like he could sense something cracking beneath the surface.

Björn jumped up on the bed and immediately knocked over the laundry basket with a loud clatter, but Lando didn’t even flinch.

All he could think about was her.

Her laugh in the hallway. Her singing in the kitchen. Her stupid “Lan, can you pass me that?” voice when she was trying to be cute, and it always fucking worked.

He missed her.

And it wasn’t just that she wasn’t here. It was the fact that even when she was, lately, something had shifted. Her eyes were a little sadder. Her smiles didn’t last as long. And he knew—it was him. It was them. The late nights. The broken promises. The silence.

The fight last week had been the final crack. She didn’t yell. She didn’t cry.

And he let her go. Because he thought maybe that was what she needed. Maybe a day or two would clear it up.

But now?

Now it felt like she was slipping through his fingers again. And it scared the shit out of him.

He picked up one of the photos—a selfie from their first trip to Monaco together. She was wearing his hoodie and a baseball cap, lips in a dramatic pout, while he looked half asleep behind her, hair a mess. They’d been walking along the marina, and she had stolen his phone and made him take twenty-seven versions of that shot until she was happy.

He looked down at the screen of his phone resting beside him.

Her name was still pinned to the top of his messages. Unread since Friday.

His fingers hovered over it.

—Call her,— he whispered to himself, voice rough. —Fucking call her, Lando.—

He started to tap her name. The phone barely rang once...

Incoming Call: Zak Brown.

Lando stared at the screen. Jaw clenched. The weight of McLaren pressing into his chest like a steel plate.

Work.

Of course.

He hesitated—just let it ring, just this once—but the part of him that had been trained to always show up clicked the green button instead.

—Hey Zak, yeah. What’s up?—

He stood, already shifting back into race mode, the photo forgotten on the floor.

Benny meowed and pawed at the hem of his joggers like he knew.

Like he knew Lando had just chosen wrong again.

Like he knew the call he really needed to make wasn’t going to come now.

Not yet.

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

liked by lanmeliecore, f1teaaccount, and others

ln4updates: Lando was spotted playing padel in Monaco today with his “son” Keegan Palmer 😂🧡 Looks like he’s blowing off some steam after the last GP weekend — and tbh, nothing screams “dad on summer break” more than this duo 💀🏓

View all 33,182 comments

padelprincess69: the way keegan really is their child like. this is a divorced dad weekend 😭 → lanmeliecore: @padelprincess69 NO BC WHY DOES IT FEEL REAL 💀 → meximelie: @padelprincess69 and Amelie’s in Mexico like she needed a break from both her man and her kid 😭😭

norrisnation: lando’s doing cardio while his gf does pottery in merida… we are NOT ok → ameliesballetflats: @norrisnation they’re literally soft-launch breaking up i fear → lanmama: @ameliesballetflats girl shut UP they were just kissing last week 😭

chaoticwags: he’s playing padel like his life depends on it i fear → noriloco: @chaoticwags he’s trying to sweat the feelings out

lanmeliedefender: if they break up idk what I’ll do like I’ve been emotionally invested since the twitch era 😔

limes4lanmelie: funny how she’s posting citrus and gym selfies and he’s out here parenting keegan 💅

crocsandchaos: lando when amelie leaves monaco: 🏓😐 → bjornsrevenge: @crocsandchaos AND he looked sad at the paddock last week… i’m scared

f1teaaccount: there’s a weird vibe… not saying anything but saying everything 👀 → lanmelieorcry: @f1teaaccount STOP they’re just busy omg let me breathe

landogfposting: he looks so good but i miss her in the frame → ameliejuicebox: @landogfposting LITERALLY WHERE IS MY CONTENT FEED ME

pitlaneprincess: nah bc why do lando and keegan look like dad and son out on their court time 😭 → sunnyamelie: @pitlaneprincess it’s giving “your mom said i have to return you by 7” vibes

lanmeliedoomer: the silence from BOTH of them is so loud like are y’all fighting or just allergic to instagram rn → ameliewearsprada: @lanmeliedoomer they def argued and now pretending it’s ✨nothing✨ → mclarenmami: @ameliewearsprada like don’t gaslight us babes we know energy when we see it 😭

maxoslens: keegan thirdwheeling lando's breakup era 😭😭 → oscarbabie: @maxoslens STOPPP don’t manifest that pls pls pls

sundazedlan: no but why does this look like when ur dad gets visitation rights and tries really hard 😭 → daymanbabe: @sundazedlan IM IN TEARS THAT’S SO SPECIFIC

lanosburners: he’s def sending her post-match selfies like “i won. miss u tho”

lanmelie4lifee: not me refreshing both their stories every 2 mins like an unhinged ex → lanlosingit: @lanmelie4lifee WE ARE IN THE TRENCHES TOGETHER

ameliesglass: “past days at home 💛” without lando?? oh we’re fighting → mimosainmonaco: @ameliesglass and now he’s parenting alone in monaco… yup. war.

babyblueoscar: why is lando doing “divorced dad padel hours” while amelie is off in mexico playing with clay 😭 → lanfan4ever: @babyblueoscar they’re in their separately processing things era

checosbaldspot: keegan really said “i’m staying with dad this week” 💀 → lanmelieupdates: @checosbaldspot it’s giving custody schedule 😭

lanmelie4evaa: i know they’re just going thru it a little but i need a blurry couples pic from a fan NOW → pietraslashes: @lanmelie4evaa literally a lil blurry peace offering would save us rn

sunburnednorris: Lando out here doing cardio like he’s running from his feelings → emilysbike: @sunburnednorris or running back to her, depending on how delulu you are 😌 → ameliesplaylist: @emilysbike delulu is the only pipeline i trust

lanmeliewatcher: this is def the “we’re not talking rn but still watching each other’s stories” phase → floraldnf: @lanmeliewatcher i just KNOW they’ve both deleted drafts 3 times today

amelieswineglass: lando if ur sad just say that babe

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

The sun was dipping low over the horizon, casting long orange streaks across the court as Lando wiped sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt. His breathing was still heavy from the last rally, legs slightly sore, but the good kind—the kind that reminded you you were alive.

Keegan, stretched out on one of the benches beside the court, was laughing at something on his phone. Shoulders shaking, mouth pulled into that shit-eating grin he always got when something was funnier than it had any right to be.

Lando tossed his towel around his neck, cracking open a bottle of water as he glanced over. —Alright, who is she?— he teased, still catching his breath. —That’s either flirty or illegal, with the way you're laughing.—

Keegan snorted. —Relax. It’s not a girl.—

Lando raised an eyebrow. —Oh? A guy, then? Should I be worried?—

Keegan didn’t even dignify it with a response. Just locked his phone and tossed it in his gym bag. —It’s Amelie.—

The smile dropped from Lando’s face like someone had snapped the cord holding it up.

Keegan didn’t miss it.

He blinked. Sat up straighter. —Wait. Shit. You haven’t called her, have you?—

Lando opened his mouth, closed it, rubbed at the back of his neck. —She asked for time, Keeg. I’m giving it to her.—

Keegan rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful. Then, without warning, he leaned over and slapped the back of Lando’s head with an open palm.

—Ow!— Lando flinched, twisting away. —What the fuck was that for?—

—For being an idiot.—

—She said she needed space!—

—And you actually believed that? Jesus, Lando.—

Lando narrowed his eyes. —What, you think she didn’t mean it? That I should just ignore what she said? You want me to go full clingy ex mode?—

—She doesn’t want space, dumbass,— Keegan said, tossing his sweatband into his bag like it had personally offended him. —She wants to see if you care enough to close the space yourself. You’re not her ex. You’re her boyfriend. You don’t give her silence when she’s already hurting.—

Lando stared at him, towel still pressed to the side of his neck. —You think she’s testing me.—

—Obviously. Of course she is. It's like Relationship 101, mate. She’s not asking you to chase her down the street with a boom box, but she wants to know if you’ll show up when she says nothing at all.—

Lando ran a hand through his curls, frustration starting to seep through. —Yeah, well… what if she actually meant it? What if calling her just pushes her further away?—

—Then you’ll know. And at least you won’t be sitting on your ass pretending ignoring her is some kind of noble gesture. Jesus.— Keegan shoved his feet into his slides and stood. —You think she texts me because she misses my sparkling personality? No. It’s because you’re not giving her anything.—

That hit harder than Lando wanted to admit.

He stayed quiet for a beat, watching the fading light spill across the court. The breeze had picked up now, warm and soft. The kind of summer air that made everything feel like a scene from a movie.

Keegan slung his bag over his shoulder. —You need to stop treating this like some cold war. Just call her. Tell her you miss her. Tell her you’re a fucking idiot if you have to. But call.—

Lando hesitated. —You really think she wants me to?—

Keegan rolled his eyes again. —Lando. If she didn’t want you to call, she wouldn’t be texting me. She wouldn’t be asking if you’ve been okay or if you’re still at the apartment or if I think you’re too busy to care. You think she’s over there just vibing? She’s waiting.—

Lando exhaled sharply, chest tight, like someone had just cut a hole in his ribs.

—And you’re not exes,— Keegan added firmly. —Don’t let your silence make that a reality.—

Lando didn’t respond. Just nodded slowly and tossed his water bottle into his gym bag.

He didn’t even finish cooling down properly. Didn’t bother putting on his hoodie or checking his emails again. By the time they reached the car, his fingers were already twitching toward his phone like a magnet.

The drive back to the apartment felt longer than usual, the tension pressing in at every red light. His thumb hovered over her name in his contacts at least five times before the lock screen came back up.

By the time he walked into the flat, Benny met him at the door with a meow and a headbutt, like he knew. Like everyone knew but him.

Lando dropped his bag, kicked off his shoes, and paced once around the living room before grabbing his phone again.

No more thinking.

No more guessing.

Just… her.

He hit the call button.

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

liked by lanmeliecore, lanfanclub, and others

daymanfanclub: Amelie was spotted today on a walk through the historic streets of her hometown with her sister Elysia! 👯‍♀️✨ Both kept it casual but glowy

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glowgirlsss: why does this feel like breakup walks energy and not hot girl walk energy 😭 → softieforlanmelie: @glowgirlsss STOP 😭 she’s literally just walking with her sister pls

lanmama4ever: y’all really think they’d break up when he wrote “For Amelie. Always.” on a champagne bottle??? be serious → pinkchampagnedrinker: @lanmama4ever that was basically a marriage proposal tbh

mclarenmuse: lando’s been in monaco playing padel and looking Sad™️ and now she’s in mexico... my delusions aren’t deluding anymore → daymaniac: @mclarenmuse they just need a lil break from the fame maybe 🫠

gossipgrid: let’s be honest if they were fighting he wouldn’t still have her on his lockscreen → maxosbestie: @gossipgrid receipts or we rioting

elysiadayfans: the fact that Elysia is with her makes me think it’s just a family trip 💅 → lanmeliecentral: @elysiadayfans yep! the girls said “detox not divorce” 💅

breakuptruthers: body language says everything idc → lanmelie4eva: @breakuptruthers you read too much into vibes go touch grass

pastaloversunite: she’s healing in the sun he’s healing with carbs everyone stay calm 🧘‍♀️ → ameliecore: @pastaloversunite soulmate behavior if you ask me 🙏

sunnyamelie: people forget celebs can literally just take a break without BREAKING UP 😭 → f1sweetheart: @sunnyamelie omg say it LOUDER for the tik tok detectives in the back

papayaprincess: not them being in two different countries again… my lanmelie heart is hanging by a thread → monacogf: @papayaprincess he’ll fly to her in 3…2…1... trust the romcom arc

oscarspitcrew: meanwhile oscar’s just vibing unbothered with Lily 😭 → piastrology: @oscarspitcrew that man hasn’t been in drama since birth

stella_irl: she’s walking like she has nothing to prove. queen behavior

mclarenwives: lando probably asked for her location like 3 times already today → gridgfs: @mclarenwives he’s 100% lurking her close friends story rn

teamdayman: imagine being that flawless post-alleged fight… i’d be sobbing into my hoodie → gforcegf: @teamdayman her villain era might be activated and honestly? good for her

spicylanmelie: ok but if they broke up why is his spotify still public and still following her playlist 💀

justpaddockthings: remember when “is lanmelie over??” trended and then he kissed her mid-interview? yeah me too. → amelieinspired: @justpaddockthings so true we are in the "tension before the soft moment" phase again

sunsetswithlanmelie: she’s walking like she just finished crying… → starlightedits: @sunsetswithlanmelie OR like she just finished a very deep convo with her sister 🙄 not everything is drama

notmclarenadmin: if they broke up I’m gonna sue the moon and the stars for false hope → lanmelt: @notmclarenadmin suing the champagne bottle too tbh

ferrarifeminist: her being in mexico and lando looking depressed in monaco... the maths is mathing 😬 → daymanwars: @ferrarifeminist OR they’re just grown adults living in different places sometimes omg

champagnewifey: when they reunite it’s gonna be SO dramatic. like i want tears, forehead kisses, the works. → deluluhive: @champagnewifey and a blurry insta story of their hands at dinner 🙏

ameliesballetflats: she looks like she’s listening to Lana Del Rey while staring into the sun → heartsinmonaco: @ameliesballetflats and Lando is probably watching Formula 1 edits in bed crying

maxsaidchill: max better lock them in a room and not let them out until they talk → teamlorenzo: @maxsaidchill therapy but make it Red Bull-mandated

pastaandpodiums: if they break up who do i give my emotional energy to now → soft4silverstone: @pastaandpodiums literally no one i only have one ship in me

lanfanclub: she still had his necklace on last week i’m holding onto that

checosfavorite: they’re too in love to let it crash. this is just the mid-season character development arc → pinkflagenergy: @checosfavorite i needed that perspective thank u 💛

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

The sun had dipped just far enough behind the trees to cast long shadows across the park path, the light soft and golden, filtering through leaves that swayed gently with the breeze. Amelie walked beside Elysia in silence, her hands buried in the front pocket of her hoodie, her gaze fixed ahead like the pavement might offer answers if she stared hard enough.

Elysia stole a glance at her, then looked back at the path. She’d been waiting for the right moment all afternoon—waiting for her sister to breathe in a way that didn’t sound like a sigh wearing a mask.

—So…— she began casually, pushing a branch out of their way, —how was Belgium?—

Amelie’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. —Fine.—

—Cold?—

—A bit.—

—Race went alright though, right?—

Another shrug.

Elysia slowed a little, letting a jogger pass them. —How’s everything else? Like… you?—

—Tired,— Amelie said, her voice clipped. —I’ve been tired.—

They walked a few more steps, the gravel crunching beneath their sneakers.

Elysia tried again. Softer this time. —And Lando?—

That’s when it changed.

Amelie’s face didn’t crumble. It didn’t even twitch. But her body gave her away—her jaw tightened, her hands curled into small fists inside her hoodie, her gaze darted to the ground like it couldn’t bear to look up.

Elysia cleared her throat. —Ames… is everything okay with you two?—

Amelie’s reply came too fast. —Yeah.—

It was the kind of yeah that sounded like a slammed door. Sharp. Final. Not convincing at all.

Elysia blinked at her sister, lips parting like she might say something, but Amelie was already shifting. She adjusted her hoodie sleeves, took a breath that didn’t fill her lungs, and forced a quick stretch of her arms like they’d just finished warming up.

—We should run,— she said. No tone. No warmth. Just a fact tossed into the air like a shield.

—Wait, what?— Elysia asked, catching up to her.

But Amelie was already moving.

Not jogging. Running.

Not fast. Just… determined. Like she was chasing something she couldn’t name or outrunning something she couldn’t face.

—Amelie!— Elysia called out, shocked. —Dude, wait! You don’t even have your playlist on!—

No response.

Just the slap of her sneakers against pavement, the swing of her ponytail catching the wind as she pushed forward harder. Faster.

Elysia cursed under her breath and took off behind her.

—Ames! Hey! Amelie! Slow down!—

But she didn’t. If anything, she sped up. Her strides lengthened, her breath coming out unevenly now, not from the run, but from everything she’d been holding in.

Then suddenly, she stopped.

No warning.

Like her body hit a wall her heart hadn’t warned her about.

Elysia reached her seconds later, panting slightly, her hand catching Amelie’s arm to steady them both.

—Ames. Jesus. What was?—

She turned her around.

And that’s when she saw it.

Amelie wasn’t breathless from the run.

She was holding it in.

Everything.

Her eyes were glossy, red-rimmed at the edges, lips trembling from the effort of keeping it all together. And still—she didn’t say a word.

Elysia didn’t hesitate. She pulled her into her arms without asking.

And that’s all it took.

Amelie broke.

A gasp—sharp, shattering—and then the sobs came fast, like floodgates snapping open after too much weight. Her fingers clutched at the back of Elysia’s jacket, her shoulders shaking with the kind of grief that wasn’t clean or pretty—it was messy, aching, full of words she didn’t know how to say yet.

—I’m here,— Elysia whispered, cradling the back of her head. —I’m here, mi reina. You don’t have to talk. Just breathe. Just stay right here.—

And they stood there on the edge of the path, framed by falling sunlight and soft wind, while Amelie cried into her sister’s shoulder like she hadn’t let herself feel a single thing in weeks.

Elysia didn’t press.

She didn’t need to.

She just held her.

Because sometimes love isn’t asking the question.

Amelie’s breathing had slowed. The kind of slow that comes after the storm. Her head rested on Elysia’s shoulder, her cheeks damp, her fists still curled in the fabric of her sister’s jacket like letting go too soon might undo her.

They stood there a little longer, just letting the wind cool the sweat and salt on their skin.

Eventually, Amelie pulled away. Wiped her face with the sleeve of her hoodie. Took a deep, trembling breath.

—Bench?— she mumbled.

Elysia nodded without a word and followed her.

They found one under a crooked tree, half-shaded, half-warmed by the setting sun. They sat close, knees brushing, but neither spoke. Amelie stared ahead, eyes unfocused. Elysia watched her carefully, not pushing, not filling the quiet with noise.

And then...

—We fought in Belgium,— Amelie said, voice raw. —He asked if I was going to dinner with the boys. I said no. And then everything just… snapped.—

Elysia stayed quiet.

—I told him I was tired of feeling like the only one adjusting. Like I was always the one waiting. Like I kept shrinking myself just to fit into his life.—

She paused, thumb picking at a loose thread on her sleeve.

—He said he was trying. That he’s juggling everything. That he’s doing his best. But I just... I don’t know, Lys. It felt like… like I didn’t matter enough anymore. Not the way I used to.—

Her voice cracked again, softer now.

—He didn’t even remember the dinner I planned. Left a note. Didn’t wake me. Didn’t call the next day. I had to fly to Belgium with Max.—

Elysia blinked. —With Max?—

Amelie gave a sad laugh. —Yeah. Which… I mean, shoutout to Max, but like... God, it was humiliating.—

Elysia let out a quiet breath, leaning back against the bench, arms crossed.

She didn’t try to justify him. Didn’t interrupt.

Amelie kept going, as if now that the words had started, she didn’t know how to stop.

—And I know he’s tired. I know the season’s intense. I know it’s not personal. But it still feels personal when I’m the only one noticing we’re falling apart.—

Elysia’s fingers drummed lightly against her elbow. Still waiting. Still listening.

—And after the fight, I asked for time. I told him I needed space because I didn’t trust myself not to say something I’d regret.— She paused. —And he gave it to me. No messages. No calls. Not even a meme or a song link or a fucking TikTok.—

Amelie finally looked at her, eyes still glassy, lips pressed into a thin line. —You know what I realized? I didn’t actually want space. I just wanted to know if he’d fight for me when I wasn’t making it easy.—

Elysia looked at her long and hard, and then gave a small sigh, tilting her head. —Ames... that boy would burn the whole damn paddock down if you asked him to.—

Amelie blinked.

—He’s just dumb. You picked a man who sometimes needs subtitles for real life. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. It just means he needs a nudge. Or ten.—

Amelie gave a weak smile, her shoulders dropping a little. —But what if we’re too far in now? What if we’ve already messed it up again?—

—Then fix it.— Elysia shrugged.

A beat passed.

Then Amelie stood, brushing off her hands. —I’m gonna grab something to drink. Want anything?—

Elysia shook her head. —I’m good. Go.—

Amelie wandered toward the small corner store across the path, her hoodie sleeves half covering her hands.

Elysia exhaled and leaned back again.

She watched the breeze rustle the trees, the soft clink of bike chains and distant laughter from families nearby filling the stillness Amelie had left behind.

Then... bzz bzz

The sound was soft, muffled by fabric.

Elysia glanced down and saw Amelie’s phone buzzing against the bench between them.

Lan🧡 calling…

Her eyebrows lifted. She stared at the name, at the little heart emoji, at the way the screen glowed like it knew the timing was fragile.

Shit.

She hesitated.

Then picked it up and answered.

—Hello?— she said coolly, voice flat.

A beat. And then...

—Elysia?— Lando’s voice cracked through the line, a little too quick, a little too desperate.

She paused. Didn’t respond.

—Is she okay?— he asked before she could even say anything else. —Please, just... fuck. I’ve been calling, and she hasn’t answered and I didn’t know what else to do, and I just… I needed to hear her voice. Or yours. Something.—

Elysia sat up slowly on the bench, eyes flicking toward the little shop across the path. Amelie was still inside.

She adjusted the phone against her ear, her tone clipped. —You kind of fucked up, Norris.—

Silence. Just his breathing on the other end, heavy like he was running. Or crying.

Then, finally, his voice again, barely above a whisper. —I know.—

And just like that, Elysia heard it.

Not defensiveness. Not excuses. Just... pain.

—She asked for time,— he went on, words spilling out now like he was afraid she might hang up. —And I thought I was doing the right thing by giving it to her, but I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have waited. I should’ve fucking called. I should’ve showed up. She was right. I always show up for everything except her.—

And then...

It cracked.

A broken inhale. A soft, choked sound.

Then nothing for a few seconds.

Then the unmistakable sound of him crying.

Elysia closed her eyes. Her heart squeezed painfully. Because yeah, she was mad. Yeah, he’d been an idiot.

But this?

This was a man completely gutted.

—Lando,— she said quietly, —take a breath.—

His voice was barely there now. —I’m losing her, aren’t I?—

She shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it. —No. But you’re close if you don’t fix it.—

He sniffled. —I don’t even know where to start.—

—Start by showing up,— she said firmly. —The season’s about to go on break. That’s your chance. No excuses. No media. Just you, and her, and actual effort. Not a note. Not a message. You. In person. Looking her in the eyes and telling her the truth.—

—I will,— he whispered. —I swear, Lys, I will. I just... I love her so much. And I’ve been so fucking scared.—

Elysia blinked back the sting behind her own eyes. —Yeah, well... so has she. But she hasn’t stopped loving you either. That’s why it hurts this bad.—

There was a soft creak of the bench as Amelie’s footsteps approached.

Elysia looked up, heart quickening as she saw her walking back with a bottle of water in one hand, an iced tea in the other.

—I have to go,— she said quickly into the phone.

—Wait, please... just... can you tell her I’m trying? That I’m gonna fix it?—

Elysia watched Amelie get closer.

She softened.

—I’ll tell her you called. But the rest? That’s on you.—

She ended the call just as Amelie sat beside her again, handing over the tea without a word.

Elysia took it, tucking the phone under her leg.

She didn’t say anything right away. Neither did Amelie.

But the silence felt a little different now.

The air lighter.

And the summer break?

It couldn’t come fast enough.

[kathlare]

Hello hello, I’m so sorry for being insistent, I know writing takes time but I was just wondering when the next part is going to come out?? 💞💞

No worries at all, and thank you so much for your patience and excitement!! 💞 It truly means the world 🫶🏻 Just wanted to let you know that a new chapter is dropping today at 6:00 PM PST! Hope you love it — can’t wait to hear what you think!! 💌💌

[kathlare]

Why do all imagine writers always make lando the bad guy always the reason for breaks the blame always gets put on him etc

Like I thought with this story I wouldn’t have to deal with this….

Like I love this smau. Don’t get me wrong. And I think you’re an amazing writer. Sighs.

Thank you so much for your message — and I’m really sorry you feel that way. I totally understand where you’re coming from, and I promise it’s never my intention to always make Lando the “bad guy.” 🥺

If you’ve read the whole fic, you might’ve seen that there are definitely moments where Amelie makes mistakes too — sometimes big ones — and those choices hurt Lando just as much. What I’ve tried to show is that relationships are messy, and people on both sides make bad decisions sometimes. For me, it’s really about their growth, as individuals and as a couple.

But I truly appreciate your feedback, and if there’s anything you'd love to see more of, or storylines you want explored, I’m always open to hear from you. Thank you again for reading and caring enough to send a message 💌🫶

[kathlare]

she's so gone

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie and Lando navigate a tense and emotionally charged race weekend at Spa, both struggling with unspoken feelings and growing distance.

Wordcount: 5.5 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

July 27th, 2025 - Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium

The room was still cloaked in early morning light, soft grey clouds leaking through the slats of the blinds, casting delicate shadows across the floor. There was a coolness to the air, the kind that wrapped itself around Amelie’s bare legs as she stirred beneath the sheets, instinctively reaching across the bed—only to find the space beside her already empty.

She blinked slowly, lashes brushing her cheekbones, adjusting to the quiet.

Then she saw him.

Lando, sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to her, bent forward as he tied the laces on his shoes. The dark hoodie he wore clung to his shoulders in soft folds, and the tension in his body was unmistakable. Focused. Tired. Distant.

Her chest ached at the sight.

They hadn’t really spoken all weekend.

She’d watched every session from the Red Bull garage, Max keeping her distracted, occasionally casting her side glances like he knew exactly what she was trying to avoid. Ferrari had given her a pass too, and she’d floated between the two, trying to feel less like a ghost in her boyfriend’s world.

It hadn’t worked.

Lando straightened slowly, not looking at her yet, and adjusted the strap of his McLaren backpack slung over one shoulder. The silence stretched long between them, heavy with things they hadn’t said.

Finally, without turning around, he spoke.

—You coming with me?—

Amelie paused. Swallowed down the lump that had been sitting in her throat since last night.

—I’ll go later. I want to shower first.—

He nodded once. Just once. Not a word. Then he finally turned.

And smiled.

But it wasn’t the smile she knew. It didn’t reach his eyes, didn’t crinkle the corner of his lips the way it used to when he called her "mi amor" or made fun of her morning hair. It was a ghost of a smile. Polite. Almost careful.

—Okay,— he said softly.

She held his gaze for a second. Long enough to feel her heart twist. But not long enough to make it better.

He stepped toward her slowly, walking back to the side of the bed. Then, with a gentle hand, brushed some hair from her forehead and leaned down.

The kiss he pressed there was warm. Lingering. A little sad.

She closed her eyes at the feeling, holding her breath.

—Good luck, Lan,— she whispered.

He hesitated, like he wanted to say something else. Maybe he did. But before the words could come out, his phone buzzed from the dresser.

He glanced at the screen.

—It’s my mum. She’s downstairs.—

Amelie nodded, keeping her face soft.

—Okay.—

He leaned in, kissed her temple one more time, then turned and left. The door closed gently behind him.

She stayed in bed long after he left, curled on her side, blinking at the empty space where he’d been.

Downstairs, the air outside the hotel was brisk with early morning dew, the trees shifting gently in the soft breeze. Lando adjusted the strap of his backpack again as he stepped through the revolving doors and caught sight of his mum waiting with a group of relatives near the transport shuttle. The Belgian side of his family—his aunt, her husband, a few cousins—had gathered early, laughing softly among themselves, all wearing McLaren caps or orange somewhere on them.

Cisca turned the moment she saw him, her face lighting up, though her smile faltered just the slightest bit as she scanned his features.

He was smiling.

But it was the same one he’d given Amelie. That smile that tried too hard to look easy.

—There’s our pole sitter!— his aunt beamed, pulling him into a hug as the others clapped or cheered.

Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, mumbling polite greetings. He was used to the attention by now. It wasn’t that.

Cisca gave him a long look, her eyes flicking over the tightness in his shoulders, the way he shifted on his feet like he couldn’t quite settle. Something was off. She could feel it in her bones—mothers always knew.

—Where’s Amelie?— she asked lightly, eyes narrowing just enough to catch his flinch.

—She, uh... she’s not feeling great,— Lando lied quickly, eyes darting to the side.

—Hm.—

That was all she said.

Cisca didn’t press. Not in front of everyone.

Instead, she reached for her son’s hand and gave it a firm, grounding squeeze.

It was subtle. Silent. But it said everything.

I know you’re lying. I know something’s wrong. And I know you’re hurting. But I’m here.

Lando’s jaw clenched as he returned her squeeze. Just for a second. His throat burned with all the things he couldn’t say right now, especially not with his cousin asking for a selfie and his aunt digging in her bag for a McLaren flag.

He put on his race face.

Because he had to.

Because the world would be watching soon, and today was supposed to be one of the biggest days of his season. Pole at Spa. His mum’s home country. The orange army waiting. The pressure crushing.

But none of it compared to the weight in his chest from that quiet hotel room upstairs.

From Amelie’s voice when she said good luck like it meant goodbye.

From the way she didn’t ask when will I see you later?, like maybe she wasn’t sure anymore.

She hadn’t fought him this weekend. Not once. Not with her words. But that was the part that scared him the most.

Because Amelie always fought. For people she loved. For things she believed in. She used to fight him, god, even when he was too dumb to listen—whether it was over a missed call or forgetting her pickles on takeout night.

Now?

Now she was quiet. And that terrified him more than anything.

He forced another smile as cameras flashed and his cousin looped an arm around his shoulders, but the only thing Lando could think about was how cold her side of the bed had been that morning. And how fucking stupid it would be to win today and not have her really there when he crossed the line.

Because it didn’t matter how many races he won, or poles he took, or interviews he nailed, if he lost her again.

He wasn’t going to do that. Not again. Not this time.

As the shuttle pulled up and his family began climbing in, Cisca held him back for a moment, placing a gentle hand on his chest.

—Talk to her,— she said quietly, eyes soft but serious. —Before it’s too late.—

Lando nodded, eyes glossing just slightly in the corners, but he blinked it away.

—Yeah. I will.—

He just had to win today. Get through this. And then fix the only thing that really mattered.

Because no matter how fast he drove, there was no finish line worth crossing if Amelie wasn’t on the other side of it.

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

liked by mclarensmut, lanbby, and others

daymanupdates: our pole sitter is here 🧡

View all 69,003 comments

lanmelie4life: why do they both look like they’ve been crying?? who upset mom and dad 😭 → daymansangel: @lanmelie4life fix it god pls fix it they were just in monaco being soft

softnorris: lando got pole and still looks like someone kicked his puppy 😭 → gridgf: @softnorris bet he just wants his girl by the garage like always 😭

f1wifematerial: not even p1 could cheer him up… who got him in the feels → lanmclovin: @f1wifematerial it’s giving “she’s mad at me and I deserve it” → maxsunbabe: @lanmclovin real Lando “guilty conscience” Norris 😭

lanmeliesupremacy: I fear they had a fight and I’m spiraling

softie4lando: why is he walking like someone told him Amelie cancelled date night → landoverit: @softie4lando bet he didn’t pack her Monster can in the fridge and now he’s paying the price

gridgirlie: his smile has been archived. we need Amelie on the pit wall IMMEDIATELY → trackbae: @gridgirlie someone send her a pass and an “i’m not mad, just disappointed” text

pastelaurora_: he better not be the reason she looked like she was gonna cry → ameliezone: @pastelaurora_ justice for Amelie and her airport tears

mclarensmut: bro looks like he cried in the car on the way here → lanlornorris: @mclarensmut BECAUSE HIS GIRL NOT IN PAPAYA THIS WEEKEND 😭

gridgossip: lando’s in his “don’t talk to me i miss my gf” era → monacolips: @gridgossip she’s literally 100m away in ferrari red he’s suffering

lanmama: we all joke but if they’re fighting i will NOT survive → ameliemuse: @lanmama no bc this feels like the pre-miami soft launch tension again

f1slays: not lando going pole just to be sad in HQ orange 😭😭 → lanmeliehigh: @f1slays he saw her in the red bull motorhome and pole meant NOTHING

lanbby: miss girl please go back to papaya I am begging you → sunnyln4: @lanbby even Zak looked confused 😭

meltinginpapaya: imagine dropping 2.5 secs in quali just cuz your gf didn't wave at you → charliestired: @meltinginpapaya this man is RACING THROUGH HEARTBREAK

lanmelieupdates: they’re both in the paddock and STILL acting like strangers… the lanmelie lore goes deep this weekend 🫣 → paddockclown: @lanmelieupdates they better be pulling a PR stunt or i’m suing → softf1gf: @lanmelieupdates nah bc why she posted a photo w charles yesterday 😭

lanmeliequeen: Lando looking like he lost his charger and his girl in one day 😭 → ameliesangel: @lanmeliequeen that poor boy needs a hug (and maybe a Monster)

simplynorris: Pole but make it sad. Classic Lando hours. → lanbby: @simplynorris if only Amelie showed up in his garage tho...

thehatersgonnahate: He ain’t winning nothing without his girl there, facts. → lanmeliequeen: @thehatersgonnahate facts but also go get a hobby pls

paddockvibes: When bae’s at the wrong garage and you’re stuck acting normal 😩 → lanlornorris: @paddockvibes mood all weekend

amelie_influencer: I swear Amelie’s energy is the whole McLaren team’s power supply 😂 → lanmama: @amelie_influencer and she’s gone AWOL this weekend, no wonder we’re seeing a sad Norris

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

The sound of tires against wet pavement echoed dully in the quiet Belgian morning as Max’s car cruised down the narrow roads leading toward the circuit. The clouds hung low and heavy, threatening more rain, and the whole world outside the window looked like it had been dipped in grey.

Inside the car, it was warm. Silent, save for the low hum of the engine and the occasional swish of windshield wipers.

Amelie sat curled against the passenger seat window, oversized sweater drowning her frame, sleeves pulled halfway over her hands. Her hair was still a little damp from her rushed shower, and her sunglasses were on despite the lack of sunlight—an extra barrier between her and the world.

Max glanced at her sideways.

—You look like shit,— he said, voice flat, as he shifted gears.

She didn’t even blink. —Thanks, Max. Always the charmer.—

—Just saying it like it is.— He shrugged. —You didn’t sleep, huh?—

Amelie pressed her forehead against the cool glass. —Not really.—

—Thought so. You look like someone who cried into her pillow and then lost the pillow in the dark.—

That made her huff a small breath, the ghost of a laugh caught in her throat. But it didn’t make it all the way out.

—You always this comforting in the mornings?— she muttered.

—Only when I’m chauffeuring depressed girlfriends who forgot their boyfriend is starting from pole today.—

She shot him a glare from behind her sunglasses. He didn’t even flinch.

—Exaggerate more, please.—

—You were supposed to come meet his Belgian family, right?— Max added, more seriously now, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel.

She didn’t answer at first. Just stared out the window as the misty trees blurred past.

—Yeah,— she said finally, her voice low, like it was barely tethered to her throat. —Was supposed to.—

Max shot her another look. —They’re all here already. His aunt, cousins, the whole clan. I saw them in the hospitality area this morning. Cisca’s with them.—

Amelie didn’t respond. Her fingers were twitching nervously inside her sleeves.

—They were asking about you.—

Her jaw clenched.

—Max.—

—What?— he said, not harshly, just tired. —I’m just saying. They like you. They were excited to meet you. I mean, yeah, you and Lando had a fight, but that doesn’t mean you ghost the whole family.—

Amelie turned her face further into the window.

—You don’t get it.—

—Try me.—

She stayed quiet again, the rhythm of the wipers filling the pause.

—It’s not just a fight, Max. We’re not…— she swallowed, jaw tightening. —I don’t know what we are right now.—

Max sighed. Not dramatic, not annoyed. Just… heavy.

—You guys always do this dance. You argue, one of you gets stubborn, the other one acts like they’re fine, and then somehow you crawl your way back to each other because you’re both miserable apart.—

—Well maybe this time we won’t.—

That came out sharper than she meant, and Max raised his eyebrows but didn’t push back.

They pulled into the circuit parking lot in silence. A few early crew members and journalists were already scattered across the paddock, umbrellas dotting the foggy morning. The security waved Max through, familiar with his face and car.

When he finally shifted the car into park, Max didn’t move to get out. Instead, he turned to her fully, his eyes serious now.

—You know what’s gonna suck? If he wins this race and you’re not there.—

Amelie slowly reached for the door handle but paused.

—Don’t guilt-trip me.—

—I’m not. I’m just being real. You don’t have to kiss babies and wave flags. Just show up. For him. For yourself. Hell, even just to meet the damn family who already thinks you’re the girl he’s gonna marry someday.—

Amelie flinched like the word itself had physically hit her.

Max ran a hand down his face.

—Look. I know he’s been an idiot lately. You both kinda have. But if you love him, don’t let one shitty weekend ruin everything.—

She turned to him, finally pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. Her eyes were red around the edges, makeup barely hiding the puffiness.

—You done?—

Max blinked. —Yeah. For now.—

She opened the door, slinging her small bag over one shoulder.

—Cool. I’ll be in Ferrari hospitality if anyone asks.—

—Amelie...—

—Don’t.— she cut him off, already stepping out into the mist. —I just… can’t play happy girlfriend today, okay? I need space.—

She didn’t wait for his answer. The door clicked shut behind her, and the cold morning air hit her like a slap—bracing, sharp, and exactly what she needed.

The paddock was slowly coming to life, umbrellas bobbing among the early rush of engineers and media crew. She pulled the hood of her sweater over her head, kept her eyes down, and walked with purpose, weaving through the familiar chaos like a ghost.

No one stopped her. Not yet.

She was just about to reach the steps to the Ferrari motorhome when she heard it—

—Amelie!—

Her body stiffened.

She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. That warm, melodic Dutch accent, soft but unmistakable.

Cisca.

Shit.

Amelie turned slowly, trying to school her face into something neutral—calm, pleasant, not like she wanted to crawl into the nearest garage and disappear. Cisca was walking toward her, umbrella in hand, raincoat cinched at the waist, the same kind smile on her face that always made Amelie feel at home. She looked effortlessly elegant, like she always did. And concerned, like she knew.

Because of course she knew.

—Hi, love,— Cisca said warmly, reaching to kiss both her cheeks like always. —I’ve been looking for you all morning.—

Amelie forced a small smile. —Sorry, I just got here.—

—Max told me you weren’t feeling well. Are you alright?— Her hand came to rest gently on Amelie’s arm.

God, why did she have to be so nice?

—I’m okay. Just tired, I guess.—

Cisca gave her a long look. That motherly one that saw through everything. Amelie kept her eyes steady, though it took effort.

—Well, come on then. The rest of the family is at McLaren. They’re dying to meet you.—

Fuck.

She opened her mouth, ready to make some excuse—any excuse. A meeting, an interview, the flu, hell, even food poisoning. But when she looked into Cisca’s face—so warm and trusting, so sure—the words stuck in her throat.

So instead, she nodded.

—Okay.—

Cisca smiled, gently looping her arm through Amelie’s like nothing was wrong.

Like Amelie wasn’t about to walk directly into the one place she’d been avoiding all weekend.

They walked slowly through the paddock, Cisca waving at a few familiar faces, chatting casually about the weather and the track conditions. Amelie barely heard a word. Her stomach twisted with every step closer to the McLaren motorhome, the bright orange logo getting larger and more blinding the nearer they got.

And then they were there.

Cisca reached for the door and turned back to her with a grin.

—Come on. They’re going to love you.—

Too late to run now.

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

liked by chicanechic, racecarcrazy, and others

daymanupdates: Amelie arriving solo to the paddock in Spa today 👀✨ No Lando in sight (he got there earlier) but she’s serving main character energy as always. That walk? That fit? She knows we’re watching.

View all 39,002 comments

f1queenbee: amelie and lando both lookin like they lost their fav snacks or something 🥲 → racecarcrazy: @f1queenbee big mood, this vibe scream breakup energy fr fr

spa_sips: lowkey think they’re on that “we need a break” type of energy 😬 → lanmelie4life: @spa_sips nooo pls not now i’m not ready to cry😭😭

lanmelie_shipper: imagine the drama if they actually take a break rn i’ll die on the spot → casual_f1fan: @lanmelie_shipper same, need some happy vibes not this sad f1 tea 🫠

speedygal: Amelie pulling up solo like 👀 → pitlanepeach: @speedygal sis looking sad af tho, what’s the tea? ☕️😭

tracktok: Lando got there first? bet they’re not vibin rn 😬 → racequeen23: @tracktok lowkey feels like a breakup vibe 🥲💔

f1shady: where’s the cute couple pics tho? this solo entrance hits different 😞

gasolineglitch: someone give her a hug plz, she’s giving “lost in the paddock” energy 😭 → grandprixgurl: @gasolineglitch facts, this ain’t the Lanmelie we signed up for 😭😭

racequeen_: ams ghosting mclaren garage all weekend, been vibin at red bull and ferrari? hmm 🤨 → lanmelie_stans: @racequeen_ yeah that’s sus af, feels like she’s avoiding lando for real 😬

f1queenbee: ams pulling up solo? uh oh 👀 → lanmeliesimpsquad: @f1queenbee big yikes, break up vibes or nah? 🥲

speedy_gal: lando got here early and she’s late and alone… this ain’t it 😭 → pitstopprobs: @speedy_gal bet they’re giving us that silent treatment again smh

trackside_tears: someone said break up? i’m not crying you’re crying 😭😭 → amesadvocate: @trackside_tears pls noooo, they better sort this out before the race 🥺

speedster_sis: wait wait wait… she hasn’t been near mclaren?? just Ferrari and RB?? whattttt 😳 → pitlane_gossip: @speedster_sis lowkey feels like she’s sending a message 👀

chicanechic: if this is a break up, imma start my own fan club for sad singles 💀 → amelie_fanatic: @chicanechic same, bring tissues and hoodies pls 😩

f1tea_: ams hanging out with the reds and bulls, while lando’s stuck solo in his own garage? 😭 that’s cold

trackside_gal_: if she’s not in mclaren garage, how they gonna fix the vibes? break up energy all over this paddock → lanmeliehope: @trackside_gal_ maybe she needs space but pls no permanent space 😩

vroomvroom_drama: ams skipping lando’s crew and chillin with rivals like that? that’s a power move or a breakup move? → pitstopwhisperer: @vroomvroom_drama bro it’s definitely one or the other, can’t be innocent lol

speedracer_99: ams showing up alone? yikes, that’s sus af 🥲 → lanmelie_hopeful: @speedracer_99 maybe just late? or… you know, quiet before the storm? 😬

pitlane_princess: when lando pulls up early and ams rolls solo... the tea is brewing ☕️👀 → f1shippingcentral: @pitlane_princess same energy as last time they fought smh

curvesandcorners: her vibe looks lowkey off today, my heart tho 💔

fastlane_fanatic: this feels like a ‘see you at the podium’ but not the way we want 🥺 → lanmelie_fanclub: @fastlane_fanatic pls no break up at spa, my soul can’t take it 😭

trackside_trouble: ams flexing that solo entrance but we all know she ain’t happy 😞 → maxx_verstappend: @trackside_trouble honestly same energy, been there lol

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

Lando stepped out of the McLaren briefing room, the sharp buzz of voices still echoing faintly behind the closed doors. His mind was heavy — the team had gone over every detail of the weekend ahead, but all he could think about was how little space there felt to breathe between the tension and the weight on his chest.

He was just about to head toward his driver’s room for a quick nap before the parade, when he caught it — that sound. Clear, bright, like a sudden burst of sunlight cutting through the gray paddock morning.

Amelie’s laugh.

His heart stuttered and, almost without thinking, he turned toward the communal area where the sound had come from. There she was — standing just a few feet away, animatedly talking with his mum, aunts, and cousins. The corners of her mouth lifted naturally as she smiled and shared a joke, her hand lightly touching his aunt’s arm.

Lando’s feet moved on their own accord, walking toward her like a magnet pulling iron. His family noticed immediately, their faces lighting up as they welcomed him with hugs and easy chatter.

He slid onto a chair next to Amelie, sinking into the warmth of the group, but feeling oddly like an outsider watching the conversation from behind glass.

Suddenly, his mum’s hand found his and gave it a gentle squeeze, a silent signal that made his pulse quicken. She nodded subtly toward Amelie, who had just stood up and was walking toward the bar to order a coffee.

Lando pushed himself up, heart pounding, and followed.

Lando caught up to her just as she reached the small espresso bar tucked into the corner of the lounge. She stood with her back to him, fingers curling lightly around the cup she’d just ordered, shoulders tense beneath the soft fabric of her sweater.

He cleared his throat softly.

—Hey.—

She didn’t turn immediately, and when she did, her eyes were guarded, tired.

—Look, Lando, I really don’t want to talk right now.— Her voice was low, almost fragile. —I’m only here because I couldn’t say no to your mum.—

He took a careful step closer, trying to read every flicker of emotion in her face.

Lando’s hand lifted slowly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingers trembling just a little as they traced the curve of her cheek. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

—Please. Just… give me a minute.—

Amelie’s eyes flickered to his hand for a brief second before she looked away, the weight in her gaze settling deep into her chest.

—Lando... I just... I need space. I need time to think. This... this isn’t easy for me either.—

He swallowed hard, his throat tight like the world was squeezing him. He pressed his palm gently to her cheek.

—I don’t want to break up.— His voice cracked on the last word, raw and desperate. —I know we’ve been fighting, and yeah, maybe I haven’t been around as much. But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere. Please, don’t shut me out.—

Amelie blinked, fighting tears that threatened to spill. She looked at him like she wanted to believe him but wasn’t sure if she could.

Lando’s hand lingered for a moment longer, then dropped slowly to his side. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself against the storm swirling inside.

—Okay.— he said quietly. —Space. I get it. But can you… just stay in the garage today? Be around? We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Just… be here. With me.—

Amelie hesitated, then nodded, the barest hint of a grateful smile flickering on her lips.

—I’ll stay.—

He reached out again, this time wrapping her hand in his, holding on like it was the only solid thing he had.

—Thank you.—

She squeezed back softly, eyes still wary but not closing the door completely.

They stood there for a moment, the noise of the paddock fading to a distant hum as something fragile and unspoken settled between them.

Lando gave a small, hopeful smile.

—We’ll figure it out. One step at a time.—

Amelie let out a quiet breath, a mix of relief and uncertainty.

—One step.—

And with that, they turned slowly back toward the garage, walking side by side into the uncertain day ahead.

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

liked by mcclarenmama, carlando2020, and others

ln4updates: Lando slays the #BelgianGP with a solid P2 finish! 🏎️💨 And can we talk about that heart-melting hug from his mum? Pure gold moments off and on the track ❤️

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racebuff2025: Lando P2, but where’s Amelie at the podium? 👀 → lanmelover92: @racebuff2025 yeah she was at the garage but no podium love? sus vibes 🥲

mclarenfanatic: That hug from his mum though, so sweet! But I lowkey miss the Amelie hug too 😞 → landofan4life: @mclarenfanatic same! She’s usually all over him after the race, hope everything’s okay 💔

f1gossipqueen: Amelie watching from the garage but skipping the podium? Y’all think they fighting? 😬 → lanmelover92: @f1gossipqueen honestly, it’s got that vibe… they always do the kiss/hug thing, what happened?

amelie_fanatic: If this is a break up, imma start my own fan club for sad singles 💀 → lanmelover92: @amelie_fanatic same, bring tissues and hoodies pls 😩

pitstop_pete: she always does that podium thing, no kiss no hug this time tho? → mclaren_mad: @pitstop_pete maybe they’re having a rough patch? or just tired? either way, hope it’s nothing serious 🤞

f1_romantic: I swear every time Amelie’s not around the podium, my heart skips a beat 😭 → amarie_ships: @f1_romantic same! They gotta fix this ASAP, we need our Lanmelie moments back 💔

turbo_trouble: no Amelie PDA, but Lando’s mum gave him the real energy boost lol

curious_coder: can someone confirm if they’re okay? or is this the start of a Lanmelie drama? → hopeful_harold: @curious_coder fingers crossed it’s just race stress. but the silence is loud 👀

speedster_squad: Lando P2 but where’s Ames on the podium? 🤔 → lanmelie4ever: @speedster_squad I saw her at the garage but no podium love? Something’s sus 👀

pitlane_problems: She usually right there giving him kisses and hugs after every race… what happened this time? 🥲 → amesupporter: @pitlane_problems Maybe she was tired or something? But it’s definitely not like her!

f1shipperzz: Lanmelie vibes off lately, hope they’re okay… or is this the start of a breakup? 😭

trackside_tears: Lando got P2 and no Amelie hug?? My heart can’t take this 🥺 → amefanclub: @trackside_tears Same, she’s usually his lucky charm on the podium 😞

garage_gossip: She was at McLaren garage but like ghost mode when it mattered smh 😬

pitlane_pepper: This ain’t like Amelie at all… no hug or kiss after the race? Something’s up 🥲 → lanmelie_shipper: @pitlane_pepper fr, that’s their thing! Hope it’s just tiredness and not drama 😔

amelie_fanatic: Y’all I’m worried… she’s usually so there for him, this silence is loud 💔 → hopeful_heart: @amelie_fanatic same, sending them all the good vibes rn 🙏💛

f1tea_spiller: I’m not saying break up, but that energy on the podium… something’s brewing ☕️💔 → lanmelie_watch: @f1tea_spiller literally feeling those vibes too, hope they’re just busy not broken 😢

mclaren_4life: Watching from the garage but no podium moment? That’s new for Ames and Lan 😞 → lanmelie_lover: @mclaren_4life ikr, usually they can’t keep their hands off each other after a race

pitstopgossip: If this is a quiet fight, I’m already preparing my tissues and chamomile tea 😭💔

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

The hot spray of the shower had done little to calm Lando’s nerves. He stood in the steam-filled bathroom of the McLaren hospitality unit, towel around his waist, head lowered, water dripping from the ends of his hair as he stared blankly at the floor.

P2.

He should be happy. Proud, even. Another podium, more points for the championship. The team had clapped him on the back, Zak had given him a big grin, and the garage had erupted in celebration. But it all felt muted.

Because she hadn’t been there.

She stayed for the race. He’d seen her in the back of the garage, arms folded tightly across her chest, sunglasses hiding her eyes. But she hadn’t come forward when it ended. No kiss. No hug. No soft congratulations whispered into his ear. Just… absence.

Lando tugged on his shirt, pulling it down over his chest, the familiar orange fabric suddenly too tight. He stepped out of the bathroom, heart already uneasy, but he plastered on a smile as he walked into the private lounge.

His smile faltered almost instantly.

Only his family stood waiting — his mum, aunts, a couple of cousins. They all turned toward him, grinning, arms opening for hugs and congratulations.

—There he is!— his mum beamed, pulling him into a tight embrace. —We’re so proud of you, darling. Another podium! You were brilliant out there.—

—P2’s not bad, eh?— one of his cousins joked, clapping him on the back. —Though we were all ready to see you take it at the end.—

Lando chuckled softly, trying to mirror their energy, but his eyes were already scanning the room.

She wasn’t there.

He frowned subtly, shifting his weight. —Where’s Amelie?—

His mum’s smile froze. Just for a second — a tiny flicker, but Lando caught it immediately. Her eyes dropped to the floor before returning to his.

—She… left.—

Lando’s heart sank. He took a step back.

—What?— His voice was quiet, the single word cutting like glass. —What do you mean she left?

His mum swallowed hard. She reached for his arm, but he pulled slightly away.

—She said goodbye, sweetheart. She didn’t want to make a scene. She just… she said it was time.—

Lando’s jaw clenched. His chest tightened so fast it hurt.

He didn’t say anything else.

He turned.

Ran.

He didn’t even wait for a reply — his feet were already moving before the last syllables of his mum’s sentence reached him.

Down the corridor. Out the McLaren unit. Past media, team personnel, fans behind barriers calling his name. He couldn’t hear anything anymore. Not really. It was all muffled under the pounding of his heart.

He reached the parking lot like a man possessed, yanked open the door of his car, and slammed it shut behind him. His hands were shaking as he turned the key, engine roaring to life. The tires screeched slightly as he peeled out, the McLaren lanyard around his neck swinging wildly with every sharp turn he took through the winding Spa-Francorchamps exit roads.

He needed to get back to the hotel.

She wouldn’t do that.

She wouldn’t.

Not without telling him. Not without saying something.

Would she?

It was a blur until he reached the hotel. The underground garage. The elevator ride that felt too slow and too fast all at once.

His hand hovered over the keycard to their suite.

Then he swiped.

The soft click of the door unlocking made his stomach drop.

He pushed it open, calling out instinctively.

—Amelie?—

Silence.

Lando stepped in. The room was clean. Too clean.

His heart sank lower with each step.

Her toiletries? Gone.

Her jacket on the chair by the window? Gone.

Her sneakers by the door?

Gone.

He rushed into the bedroom.

No suitcases. No makeup bag. Not even the tiny black scrunchie she always left on the nightstand.

Gone.

She left.

Lando’s knees nearly buckled as he sank down onto the edge of the bed, breathing unevenly.

Then he scrambled for his phone. His fingers clumsily hit her name.

Calling.

Ring.

Ring.

Voicemail.

Again.

Ring.

Ring.

Voicemail.

Again. Again.

Nothing.

He stared at the screen, desperate. Please. One message. One missed call. One sign.

—FUCK.— he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair.

Then he opened his contacts.

Scrolled until he found Max.

He didn’t even wait. Hit call.

Max picked up on the second ring.

—Mate.— Max’s voice was cautious. He already knew.

Lando's voice cracked.

—Did she… Did Amelie talk to you? She’s not here, Max. She’s gone.—

There was a pause. Then Max exhaled.

—Yeah. She called me. Said she was flying out tonight. Early flight to Mexico.—

Lando froze.

—Mexico?—

—She needed to go home, Lando. Said she couldn’t… do it anymore. Not like this.—

Lando pressed the heel of his hand into his eyes.

—Did she say anything else? Did she… did she ask about me?—

Max’s voice was gentle now.

—She didn’t need to. You were all over her voice, mate.—

Lando let out a breath that felt like it ripped through his ribs. His chest felt hollow, like someone had taken a shovel to it.

Max spoke again.

—Give her a bit of time. She’s not trying to hurt you. She’s just… broken right now. You both are.—

Lando closed his eyes, nodded, even though Max couldn’t see him.

—I should’ve held on tighter.— he whispered.

Max didn’t reply right away. When he did, it was quiet.

—Maybe. Or maybe she just needed you to let go for a second and realize what you had before it shattered.—

Lando hung up before he cried. Before his voice broke for real.

He was alone.

And she was gone.

[kathlare]

Hii!! When is the Spa chapter coming out?? I can’t wait to see how Amelie and Lando solve their issues in the next chapter haha

Hii!! Thank you so much for being excited 🥹 because I’ve been super inspired lately, the Spa chapter is actually coming out today at 6:00 pm PST!! 🙈 That said… sadly Amelie and Lando aren’t solving their problems just yet (please don’t kill me 😭), but I promise it’s coming soon — the buildup is so worth it. Can’t wait to hear what you think!! 💔🩵

[kathlare]

you're losing me

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando and Amelie confront the growing distance between them, forced to face the painful reality that love alone may not be enough without presence, effort, and honesty.

Wordcount: 5.5 k

Warnings: angst

full masterlist // request over here!

July 23th, 2025 - London, United Kingdom

The kitchen was quiet—too quiet for a summer night in London.

The sky outside was still painted in soft blues and purples, the last light of the day fading behind the hills, casting warm shadows across the marble floor. The apartment smelled of cilantro and lime, the remnants of the dinner Amelie had made nearly an hour ago.

Two plates had been set on the table. One remained untouched.

Amelie stood at the sink, her back to the empty chair across from hers, slowly scrubbing at a dish that didn’t need more scrubbing. She blinked hard, jaw tight, her breath hitching every now and then as she fought back the sting behind her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry. Not again. Not over this.

But fuck, it hurt.

She’d lit the candles. Put on the playlist he liked. Even garnished the tacos with the crema he loved, the one she always made from scratch just because he said it reminded him of their trip to Mérida. And for the third time this week, she’d eaten alone.

Well, half-eaten. Her appetite had vanished halfway through the first bite.

Lando was supposed to be home at eight.

It was ten-thirty.

She glanced at her phone on the counter again, screen blank. No message. No missed call. Just nothing. The same kind of silence she’d grown used to lately. The kind that made her feel like an afterthought.

With a shaky exhale, she reached for the second plate and scraped the untouched food into a Tupperware container. Her hands were trembling. She hated how familiar the motion felt—preserving something she made for someone who didn’t show up.

—Fucking hell,— she whispered to herself, slamming the lid shut.

Björn jumped up onto the kitchen counter, knocking over a spoon, as if in protest to her sudden burst of frustration. She didn’t even flinch. Benny, curled up in his usual spot by the door, looked up at her with big, round eyes, like he knew something wasn’t right.

—I’m fine,— she murmured, brushing a hand through her curls as she turned away from the mess. —I’m fine, Benny.—

But her voice cracked.

She didn’t know what hurt more—the fact that Lando kept missing these moments, or the fact that she was starting to expect him to. That the disappointment didn’t surprise her anymore.

They were supposed to be happy. They were happy. Weren’t they?

She padded across the apartment barefoot, wiping her hands on the dish towel, walking into the dimly lit living room. Her phone buzzed just as she sat on the couch.

Lan🧡: So sorry baby. Got caught up with media stuff. I’m on my way now.

Too little, too late.

She stared at the message for a second. Typed a response. Deleted it. Typed another. Deleted that too.

Instead, she just dropped the phone face-down on the coffee table and leaned back, covering her eyes with the heel of her palm. It wasn’t like she didn’t understand. She knew what she signed up for. They both lived lives that weren’t always their own. Racing. Press. Travel. Cameras. Crowds.

But still.

She’d waited years for this. For them. And now, even after going public, even after surviving the hardest part, she was starting to feel like a background character in his story again. Like the secret girlfriend in a different chapter.

Benny jumped onto the couch beside her, curling into her lap. She hugged him instinctively, holding him close, burying her face into his soft fur.

That’s when the front door clicked.

She didn’t move.

Keys jingled, followed by the sound of shoes being kicked off and a bag hitting the floor. Then the faint sound of his voice, soft and uncertain.

—Ames?—

She still didn’t move.

Lando appeared in the doorway a moment later, slightly flushed from the night air, curls messy and expression sheepish. He looked down at her—eyes trailing over her oversized t-shirt, bare legs curled beneath her, and the look on her face that stopped him cold.

She wasn’t angry.

She was tired.

—Shit,— Lando muttered under his breath as he stepped further into the room, rubbing the back of his neck. —I’m so sorry, baby. Everything ran way longer than I thought. The interviews, then the debrief dragged and... I should’ve texted. I know.—

Amelie didn’t answer at first. She just gently stroked Benny’s fur, eyes trained on a spot on the coffee table like if she blinked, it would disappear. Her voice was quiet when it came.

—Dinner’s in the fridge.—

Lando froze. He wasn’t sure what he expected—tears, anger, maybe a snarky comment—but the flatness in her voice cut deeper than any fight could have.

He swallowed hard. —Ames, come on, don’t do that.—

She finally looked up at him. Her eyes weren’t puffy. No mascara smudges. Just... dull. Like all the sparkle had been wiped out of her.

—You’re tired,— she said gently, like she was the one comforting him. —You should eat something before it gets too late.—

Lando stepped closer, the floorboards creaking softly beneath his feet. He crouched in front of her, resting his hands lightly on her knees.

—Ames, please just talk to me. Don’t shut down like this.—

She managed a faint smile. The kind you gave to strangers in the elevator or to waiters who brought you the wrong order.

—I’m not shutting down. I’m just… tired too.—

He flinched. Not visibly. But enough that she felt it.

There was silence again. One of those heavy, loaded ones where everything hangs between two people like a wire pulled too tight. He reached up, brushing his fingers lightly along her shin.

—I’ve been shit lately, haven’t I?— he said quietly.

She shrugged, slow and noncommittal. —You’ve been busy. I get it.—

—But that’s not an excuse,— Lando said. His voice cracked slightly. —You made dinner. Again. And I just... fuck, I hate that I keep doing this. I don’t want you to feel like you’re some… afterthought, Ames.—

She looked at him for a long beat. Then leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. Quick. Mechanical. Not angry. But not there, either.

—Your plate’s in the middle shelf. I made the green sauce you like. The spicy one.—

She moved to stand, cradling Benny against her chest like a shield. Lando stood too, watching her as she padded toward the hallway, her steps slow, deliberate.

Just before disappearing down the corridor, she turned slightly over her shoulder.

—Goodnight, Lan.—

That pet name—usually said with warmth, with a smirk or a kiss behind it—felt like it had splintered inside her mouth.

Lando stood in the living room for a long time after she was gone. The hum of the fridge. The faint clink of Björn knocking something off a shelf in the distance. His own heartbeat, loud in his ears.

He walked to the kitchen, pulled open the fridge, and found the Tupperware neatly stacked. Labelled. Dated. The kind of thing you did when you were tired of asking.

He didn’t heat it up.

He just stood there, staring at it, the weight of her silence finally settling in.

From the hallway, behind the closed bedroom door, Amelie curled beneath the sheets, Benny nestled into her side. Her eyes were wide open in the dark, trained on the ceiling. She could hear the microwave beep. The dull thud of the utensil drawer.

Her heart throbbed in her chest, not with anger. Not even sadness.

Just fear.

Because if she said what she wanted to say—I miss you. I don’t feel seen. I’m scared this is turning into what it used to be.—what if it broke them again?

And she couldn’t lose him.

Not again.

So she stayed quiet. Held her cats a little closer. And let the tears fall soundlessly onto the pillow, praying that tomorrow would feel better. That he’d come home early. That he’d remember.

That it wouldn’t always feel like this.

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

liked by mcclarenmama, carlando2020, and others

norrislapsdaily: Lando spotted at the MTC today! Back in Woking and looking focused 👀🔧 Whether it's simulator work, team meetings, or just vibing with the McLaren crew — our man is locked in. Silverstone hangover? Never heard of her. 💻🧡

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f1wifeposting: he probs drove there just to facetime her from the parking lot → lanlvr44: @f1wifeposting bro’s deep in his “i miss my gf even tho we live together” era 😭

mczoomies: lando at the mtc like “hi guys anyway did u see how hot my gf looked yesterday” → ameliedaymanfan13: @mczoomies she’s the background of every team monitor i fear

quadgirlies: he 1000% brought tupperware w leftovers she packed → yktvlanmelie: @quadgirlies imagine opening your lunch and it’s heart shaped pasta 😭

floralando: he looks tan AND in love like pls calm down sir

mclando44: we all clowning but he's probably watching her story on loop while waiting for sim time → lanmeliecore: @mclando44 "babe i liked it from the team iPad too" 💀

justvibingoscar: meanwhile oscar just tryna clock in and not third-wheel again

wagsynergy: he’s at mtc but mentally still in monaco cuddling benny → lanmelieupdates: @wagsynergy and stealing bites of amelie’s pasta while she yells at him 😭🍝

checoprincess: lando showing up to mtc just to brag about his gf let’s be so real → piastrilicious: @checoprincess he was like “guys she made pasta from scratch last night”

norrisnation: please he looks like he just kissed her on the forehead and said “i’ll be home by 7” → ameliearchives: @norrisnation this is why i cry.

lanmama: he better be working on a podium kiss strategy rn → amelieupdates: @lanmama manifesting him pointing at her in parc fermé again 🙏

trackbae: she said 🏠 and now he’s at work like a good husband 😌 → landoismylockscreen: @trackbae homegirl got him domesticated real fast 😭

pitwallwives: is this the first day they haven’t been glued to each other in 2 weeks → bennytok: @pitwallwives thoughts and prayers to both of them rn 🙏

lanmeliehater123: this relationship is so fake it hurts 😐 → f1slandmelie: @lanmeliehater123 babe they’re literally in love get help → paddockdiaries: @lanmeliehater123 just say you're lonely and go

sunnyforlan: he prob left her sleeping in his shirt and kissed her 3 times before leaving 😭 → ameliesbf: @sunnyforlan and whispered “don’t forget to eat something” i’m sobbing → gridgf: @ameliesbf and she replied half asleep “bring ice cream later”

landozon: y’all he’s glowing… that’s that i-live-with-my-gf-and-her-cat glow → catmomlan: @landozon benny’s emotional support bf now

f1slutclub: they argue over who gets to cook dinner and end up ordering ramen anyway → lanmeliehub: @f1slutclub and then post aesthetic pics of the ramen like it’s fine dining 😭

pitlaneprincess: imagine him watching the telemetry while texting her “miss u” every 5 mins → ameliearchives: @pitlaneprincess that’s exactly what’s happening don’t even lie

softlaunchlan: that 🏠 post was NOT subtle btw. we know she moved in → pasta4lando: @softlaunchlan like at least pretend we’re stupid??

lan4life: we’re 2 days away from an “amelie made this” cooking post on his story → tifosifairy: @lan4life and it'll be some pesto pasta with her standing blurry in the background 😭

notachef: y’all he’s in mtc today but emotionally still at brunch in monaco w her

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

The midday sun beat down hard on the backlot, all hazy shimmer and heatwaves rising off the pavement. Crew members scattered like ants under umbrellas and pop-up tents, wiping sweat from their brows as they prepped the next shot. Amelie sat in the shade of a canvas awning, a bottle of cold water pressed to her collarbone, her curls twisted up in a loose bun.

Lunch break.

Finally.

She exhaled, a little too sharp for comfort. The corset top of her outfit for the video—it was more lace than fabric—felt tighter now that her thoughts were starting to spiral again. Her makeup artist had already warned her not to cry because her eyeliner was “a bitch to redo in this weather.” So she blinked slowly, forcing the sting behind her eyes to behave.

She hadn’t heard from Lando all morning.

Again.

A plate clinked down in front of her.

—You look like you need something other than ice water,— Elysia said, sitting across from her and unwrapping a foil container of grilled veggies and rice. —Also, your brows are doing that thing. The worried one. The “I’m pretending I’m fine but I’m about to combust” one.—

Amelie gave a hollow laugh, poking at the salad on her plate. —I didn’t realize you were also psychic now.—

Elysia gave her a look. —You’ve had that same expression since call time. Spit it out, mi reina. What did Lando do now?—

Amelie didn’t answer at first. She just shrugged, tearing a piece of bread into small, uneven bits. Finally, she muttered, —He hasn’t done anything wrong. That’s the problem.—

Elysia raised a brow. —Explain that logic to me before my brain leaks out my ears from heatstroke.—

Amelie sighed, pushing her tray away. —He’s just… so busy. I get it, I really do... he’s fighting for the championship. This is the most important season of his career. I knew what I was signing up for. But… fuck, Ely. It’s hard not to feel like I’m just background noise now. A side plot.—

—You’re not a side plot,— Elysia said, instantly firm.

—Yeah, well... tell that to the last three dinners I ate alone, or the texts that go hours without replies. Or the fact that I can’t remember the last time he asked how my day was.—

Elysia’s expression softened. —Ames…—

—I’m not mad at him. I’m just… tired of feeling like the only one adjusting. The only one waiting. I want to be understanding, but there’s this tiny, ugly voice in my head that keeps whispering, “What if it’s happening again?” Like before. When he started talking to someone else because I was too busy.—

Elysia leaned forward. —Okay, first of all, you’re allowed to feel that. That doesn’t make you clingy or dramatic or unfair. It makes you human. Secondly… that voice in your head? She’s not telling the truth. Because this isn’t 2021. And you’re not a maybe anymore.—

Amelie looked up at her, eyes glassy. —Then why does it still feel like I’m slipping through the cracks?—

Elysia was quiet for a second, picking up a grape tomato and popping it into her mouth. Then she pointed at Amelie with her fork.

—Listen to me, woman. If that man says he’s coming home tonight, he will. So here’s what you’re gonna do: you’re gonna get off this dusty-ass set, go home, take a long bath, pick the hottest lingerie in that ridiculous drawer of yours, and stop thinking about everything for five fucking minutes.—

Amelie blinked, caught off guard. —What?—

—You heard me. Light a candle. Put on that Prince playlist you only play when you wanna feel like a goddess. And when Lando walks through that door, you two are gonna connect. Not talk about schedules or missed dinners. Just be together. Remind each other what all this bullshit is even for.—

Amelie laughed despite herself. —You sound like my therapist if she’d had three tequilas.—

Elysia grinned. —I am your therapist. Just hotter and with better taste in shoes.—

They both laughed then—genuine this time—and Amelie felt a little of the ache loosen in her chest. The kind of relief that comes not from solving a problem, but just from being seen in it.

She reached for her water again. —Thanks, Lys. I needed that.—

Elysia shrugged. —Anytime. And if he doesn’t show up tonight, I’m breaking into his sim room and deleting all his setups. Don’t test me.—

—You’re evil.—

—I’m efficient.—

They sat in silence for a beat, listening to the clatter of equipment being repositioned in the distance. A crew member called out for talent to start getting ready for the next scene.

Amelie stood, brushing crumbs from her thighs. She turned to Elysia, a bit more color in her cheeks now, her voice steadier. —Okay. Bath. Candle. Lingerie. Prince. I got this.—

Elysia smirked. —Atta girl. Show him who he’s coming home to.—

As Amelie walked back toward the makeup tent, there was still a heaviness in her chest. But now it came with purpose. With hope. With fire.

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

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

The scent of fresh takeout filled the air—spiced rice, garlicky lamb, warm pita bread wrapped in foil still steaming through the bag. Amelie juggled the handles in one arm as she unlocked the door, shoulder nudging it open with a soft creak. The apartment was dim, only the soft glow of the hallway lamp casting gentle light across the hardwood floors.

—Benny? Björn?— she called softly, toeing off her shoes. Björn appeared first, yawning dramatically as he stretched across the hallway like he’d been doing very important nap business all day. Benny peeked his head from behind the curtain, blinked once, then disappeared again.

Amelie smiled faintly, walking toward the kitchen with the bags.

She was humming to herself—something she’d half-sung on the ride home, still sticky from the heat of set and Elysia’s pep talk echoing in her head—as she reached for plates and glasses, already imagining how nice it’d be to just eat and be with him tonight. To share something easy.

But then her eyes landed on it.

A single note, folded once and tucked beneath a magnet on the kitchen island.

Her stomach dropped before she even touched it.

She pulled it loose with careful fingers. Recognized his handwriting immediately—messy, rushed, slanted like he’d been in a hurry.

Ames, I’m so sorry. I had to leave early—flight got moved up last minute. Belgium needed me sooner than we planned. Max is giving you a lift tomorrow morning, he’ll text. I love you. I miss you already. -Lan.

Amelie’s fingers trembled slightly as she unfolded the note, the familiar scrawl stabbing at her chest like a cold blade. She read it twice, then a third time, trying to convince herself this wasn’t some kind of cruel joke.

I’m so sorry. I had to leave early. Max is giving you a lift tomorrow morning. I love you. I miss you already.

But none of it stopped the hurt from sinking in deeper.

She set the note down gently on the kitchen island and looked around the dim apartment, the takeout bags suddenly feeling heavier in her arms. The plates, the silverware, the untouched food — all waiting for a dinner that wouldn’t happen.

Her heart twisted tighter with every breath.

The same silence that had haunted her for weeks was back, that gnawing ache of being left behind in the rush of his relentless schedule.

She started setting the table anyway, mechanical motions trying to distract her from the hollow ache growing in her chest. The clink of plates and cutlery sounded louder than usual, each noise echoing through the empty rooms.

Later, when the apartment was swallowed by night, sleep remained stubbornly out of reach.

She stared at the ceiling, the note still folded on the nightstand beside her like a cruel reminder of how small she felt.

The next morning was sharp and bright, the cool air brushing against Amelie’s face as she stood outside the private hangar. The sleek lines of Max’s jet gleamed in the early light, engines humming softly.

Max was already there, waiting, a steady presence amidst the chaos.

She forced a smile as she climbed aboard, but Max immediately caught the shift in her mood — the tightness in her jaw, the distant look in her eyes.

Max closed the door behind her with a quiet thud and gave her a long look.

—You okay?— he asked, voice low.

Amelie hesitated. She wanted to say yes, wanted to convince herself it was just tiredness or nerves from the shoot. But the truth was heavier than that, sinking like a stone in her chest.

—Not really,— she admitted, voice small, almost brittle.

Max nodded, settling into the plush leather seat across from her. The cabin was quiet, the soft hum of the jet’s systems the only sound as they taxied toward the runway.

—Lan’s got a brutal schedule right now.—

She blinked slowly, staring out the window at the sun just rising over the Mediterranean. —I know. I get it. But it still hurts.—

Max was silent for a moment, watching her carefully before he spoke.

—You know, Ames, it’s okay to say that stuff out loud. To him, I mean. You can’t keep carrying it all inside and expect things to fix themselves.—

She looked down at her hands folded in her lap, nails picking at the edge of her dress.

—I’m scared.—

—Of what?— Max asked gently.

—Of breaking us. Of going back to how things were before. When we didn’t talk. When I felt like I was waiting on a ghost who wasn’t sure if he wanted me.—

Max leaned forward, earnest.

—That’s why you need to be honest with him. You guys have been through the worst, Ames. You’ve come back from a place most people don’t even get out of. But that only works if you grow together, not alone. If you keep stuff locked away, you’re just building walls instead of bridges.—

Amelie’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but she blinked them away stubbornly.

—I want to be better at that. I want us to be better.—

Max smiled softly, the kind of smile that felt like a steady anchor.

—You’re not alone in this. Lando’s probably feeling the weight too. But if you both don’t show up fully, it’s the same old story. You remember that pain, yeah? Don’t let it become the soundtrack again.—

Amelie swallowed hard, the weight of Max’s words settling deep in her chest. She looked up, meeting his steady gaze, grateful for the quiet honesty between them.

—Thanks, Max.— Her voice was soft but sincere. —I needed to hear that.—

He gave a small nod, then leaned back, the jet smoothly lifting off into the brightening sky.

As the clouds passed beneath them, Amelie closed her eyes, clutching the note in her hand. Maybe this time, she thought, they could figure it out. Together.

Because love wasn’t just about the easy moments. It was about the hard ones too—when you chose to stay, to fight, and to grow.

And she wasn’t ready to give up on Lan. Not yet.

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

liked by gridgossipqueen, carlando2020, and others

f1gossipgirl: Amelie Dayman arriving in Belgium with Max Verstappen ahead of the Grand Prix weekend!

View all 38,193 comments

maxchampagne88: not to be delulu but she looks lowkey sad… Lando fix it with a forehead kiss or smth 😭 → lanmeliecore: @maxchampagne88 he’s probs already texting her “where u at bubs” 😭💕 → sunnyamelie: @lanmeliecore if he’s not then I WILL

f1tiktokleaks: nah bc if MY gf looked like that walking through the airport i’d be flying the plane myself 😤✈️ → pitlaneprince: @f1tiktokleaks lando somewhere booking a jet rn

chaoticwags: lando locking in p1 just bc he saw her walk in like that 😭

ameliesleftboot: if she cries on camera i’m suing the FIA for emotional damage → gridgossipgirl: @ameliesleftboot class action lawsuit i’m in

drs4lanmelie: max better be cracking dad jokes to cheer her up that’s his emotional support bestie duties fr → verstappened: @drs4lanmelie imagine Lando sees that and sprints across the paddock 😭😭

lanmama: she’s glowing but that’s def the “i miss my man” walk 😭 → ameliedaymanfanacc: @lanmama and don’t we all 🫠🫠🫠

mclarenmami: why she look sad 😭 max carrying the emotional support duties now?? → ameliesbandaid: @mclarenmami LANDO GET UP AND FIX IT

lanmelieupdates: okay but why wasn’t she on the plane with him?? → notameliealt: @lanmelieupdates trouble in lanmelie paradise or just ✨drama✨ → lanlanlo: @notameliealt she prob needed space bc of the silverstone burnout 😩

wagsunite: i fear lando better bring flowers or we are about to get another hit single 😭

verstappensgirlies: max and amelie bonding again is sooo healing actually → lanloversupremacy: @verstappensgirlies yeah until lando sees it and has a meltdown 💀

pitlaneprincess: lando landed solo, she looks tired, and max is suddenly around again… i’m nervous 😬 → chaoticwags: @pitlaneprincess breathe babe it’s just pre-race anxiety (i hope) → norisimp: @chaoticwags it’s either podium or breakup no in-between

fanamelie: she’s in her “i need a walk and a playlist” era → sickoszn: @fanamelie watch her go #1 with a heartbreak banger while lando’s crying into his helmet 😭

gridgossipqueen: not the ✨sad girl walk✨ through arrivals 😭 → f1slayzone: @gridgossipqueen i fear she cried on the plane. i would’ve too.

lanmelieupdates: the fact that lando landed last night alone and now she’s showing up like this… something is not lanmelie-ing 😟 → mclarenwives: @lanmelieupdates don’t say that rn i’m fragile → pitwallgf: @lanmelieupdates they probably just fought over something dumb like who left the toothbrush at the hotel

ferrarigf77: max and amelie back together on screen is crazy… lando don’t check this post

wagsinchaos: girl has sad poetry playing in her headphones i just know it → lanmelie4everrr: @wagsinchaos it’s giving “manchild acoustic” on loop

bbysilverstone: ok but why does it feel like she didn’t sleep?? her eyes look tired af 😩 → pirelliprincess: @bbysilverstone maybe she was on the phone with lando all night fixing whatever tf is going on

lanmama: it better not be what i think it is → ameliesbitch: @lanmama if they break up i’m deleting my account i’m so serious

gridsideglam: this is a woman who just said “i’m fine” and then looked out the window for 7 hours → chaoticwags: @gridsideglam she’s in her “slow sad playlist and croissant” era and i respect it

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

The hotel room door clicked shut behind him with a muted thud, but even that small sound seemed to echo too loudly in the thick silence.

Lando paused just inside the doorway.

The first thing he saw was her suitcase—unzipped and half-open on the bench at the foot of the bed, clothes folded too precisely to mean she was relaxed. The second thing was the soft steam curling out from beneath the bathroom door, the shower still running.

His chest tightened.

She was here.

But not really.

She hadn’t answered any of his texts since this morning. Not the good morning, love you one. Not the two calls after press. Not the on my way to the hotel—missed you voice note.

He dropped his duffel by the armchair and ran a hand through his curls, his jaw tightening. He knew she was mad. Or worse—disappointed. And that always hit harder than yelling.

The worst part? He wasn’t even sure which thing had tipped her over. Was it missing the dinner back in Monaco? The early flight without a word until she found the note? Or just the accumulation of all the little ways he’d failed to be present lately?

He exhaled, long and sharp, and peeled off his hoodie before reaching for the shirt he planned to wear out with the boys. Just a casual dinner—with Alex, Charles and George. Nothing big. Nothing wild. But now, it felt… heavy.

The bathroom door creaked open.

Steam billowed out first, then her.

Amelie stepped into the room wrapped in a towel, her curls wet and clinging to her shoulders, her skin flushed from the heat of the shower. She didn’t speak. Just glanced at him once, briefly, then made a beeline for the vanity.

Lando’s eyes followed her.

The silence between them wasn’t angry—not yet—but it was thick. Tense. Like a wall had been quietly built in the hours they hadn’t spoken.

She dabbed serum onto her cheeks. Brushed her lashes. Swiped balm across her lips.

He pulled on his jeans. Buttoned his shirt. Fiddled with the sleeves to roll them casually, watching her in the mirror, his mouth pressing into a line.

Still nothing.

When Amelie finished her skincare routine, she crossed the room and knelt by her suitcase. Her towel dropped onto the bed, replaced by soft grey pajama bottoms and a faded Mexico City Grand Prix t-shirt—one of his, he realized.

But the moment still caught him.

His brows pinched. —Wait… you’re not coming to dinner?—

She paused, straightening up slowly, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

Her voice was low. Even. —No.—

—Why not?— he asked, cautious but already bracing for something deeper.

She turned to face him fully, arms crossed loosely over her chest. —Because I don’t feel like pretending everything’s fine in front of everyone.—

That hit like a gut punch. He blinked. —So you’re just… what? Gonna shut me out?—

Her mouth twitched, not into a smile. Something smaller. Sadder. —I’ve tried not shutting you out. That clearly didn’t work either.—

Lando took a step toward her. —Amelie, come on. Don’t do this now.—

—Now?— she repeated, voice rising slightly. —Now is when you suddenly want to talk? After ignoring every message and skipping every moment that actually mattered to me for weeks? You only notice the problem when it messes with your plans.—

His jaw clenched. —That’s not fair.—

—Isn’t it?— she shot back. —Because I’m starting to think the only version of me you have time for is the one who shows up, smiles, and stays quiet about how fucking lonely this all feels.—

The words hit the room like thunder. Lando stared at her, lips parting, but no words came out fast enough.

Amelie shook her head, turning away as she walked toward the nightstand and unplugged her phone. —You know what? Go to dinner, Lando. Go laugh and drink and act like nothing’s wrong.—

—You’re acting like I don’t care,— he said, voice hardening now. —Like I don’t try. You think I don’t feel this distance too? Fuck, Amelie, I’m trying to juggle everything. The championship, the press, the team, us—

—But you keep dropping me first,— she said quietly.

And that broke something in both of them.

They stood in silence again, the room colder somehow. The steam from her shower long gone. The soft buzz of the city outside the only sound between them.

Lando’s mouth opened like he was about to say something, anything—maybe to take it back, maybe to fix it—but Amelie was already turning away from him.

—You don’t get it,— she murmured, not even angry anymore. Just done. —I’ve been patient. I’ve waited. I’ve defended you when people said I was too available, too understanding. But the truth is… I don’t know how much more of this I can do if I’m the only one fighting to feel seen.—

He stepped forward, voice strained. —You are seen. Amelie, you’re everything to me. Just because I miss a dinner or get pulled into something doesn’t mean I don’t love you.—

—But it does mean I’m not your priority,— she said, finally looking at him again. Her eyes were wet but steady. —And I don’t need to be everything. But I need to be something more than an afterthought.—

He flinched at that, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

—You think this is easy for me?— he snapped, the frustration finally boiling over. —You think I like being this stretched? I hate missing time with you. But I can’t just drop the job every time something goes sideways. I’m not choosing between you and the sport, Amelie. I’m trying to have both.—

—And I’m tired of always being the part you try to squeeze in,— she said sharply. —You don’t have both, Lando. You’re slowly losing one because you’re too busy convincing yourself everything’s fine.—

They stared at each other, chest to chest now, the heat of the argument radiating between them.

—So what?— he bit out. —You want to break up? Walk away? You want to throw away everything we’ve fought to build just because I’ve had a few shit weeks?—

Amelie’s breath caught. That wasn’t what she wanted. Not even close. But god, the way he made it sound like she was the one tearing it all down.

—No,— she said, her voice cracking. —I want you to see me. I want you to show up. And I want to stop feeling like loving you means shrinking myself to fit into the little gaps you leave open.—

That silenced him.

Lando looked at her like she’d just shattered the floor between them, like he didn’t even know what part of this to fix first.

But the damage was done.

Amelie blinked slowly, wiped at the corner of her eye with the back of her hand, and turned away again, pulling back the sheets on her side of the bed.

—I’m tired,— she said, quieter now. —I’m not coming tonight. I can’t sit there and pretend like I’m not hurting.—

Lando stood frozen for a long beat. Then he nodded, the motion stiff. —Right. Okay.—

He grabbed his watch from the dresser, the keys from the nightstand, and crossed the room in silence.

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

And Amelie exhaled a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding—shaky, fragile, the kind that made your whole chest cave in.

She slid into bed, turned off the lamp, and lay there in the dark, the echo of his absence louder than any fight they’d had.

And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.

[kathlare]

Hii, I have a suggestion for you for the next part of the 2025 series!! So basically how about Lando and Amelie have a housewarming party in Monaco at their new apartment and they’re so adorable and in love and cute and wine drunk and it ends in smut!! Please that would be so cute

Loved the idea!! It was way too cute not to write — here’s the chapter all finished and up now 🫶 they’re wine drunk, flirty, very in love… and yes, it ends just how you hoped 😌🍷 I’ll leave the link below, hope you enjoy it!! Let me know what you think 🤍

homecoming

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando and Amelie share quiet, intimate moments in their shared home in Monaco as they prepare to host a special gathering.

Wordcount: 6.9 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

July 21st, 2025 - Monte Carlo, Monaco

The lights of Monaco twinkled like little fireflies beyond the windows as the cab wound up the hills toward the apartment. The streets were quiet, kissed by the warmth of the summer night, the kind of night that felt like silk on skin—soft, slow, and golden. Lando leaned back in the seat, one arm lazily draped over Amelie's shoulders, his other hand resting on the carrier on his lap, where Benny purred like a small, satisfied motor.

Amelie let out a sigh, leaning her head against his chest as they neared home. She smelled like sunscreen and sea salt and a trace of the perfume she always wore, the one that lingered on his hoodie for days after she'd leave.

—Home — she mumbled sleepily, eyes fluttering shut for a second.

—Finally — Lando replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. —Think Benny missed it more than us. Look at him. He's literally smiling.—

Björn, on the other hand, had spent the entire drive glaring at Lando from his own carrier like he was planning a coup the second they stepped through the door.

The elevator ride up was quiet, save for Benny meowing dramatically like he'd crossed an ocean (he technically had), and Amelie giggling as she tried to soothe him. Her hand slipped into Lando’s, warm and familiar. It made his stomach flip every time. Still. After all this time.

As the elevator doors opened and the scent of their place hit them—linen, a bit of sea breeze from the balcony left cracked open, a faint whiff of eucalyptus from one of Amelie’s diffusers—they both paused.

—God, I missed this — she said, stepping in slowly like she had to convince herself it was real.

—Mhm— Lando smiled, setting the bags down. —It smells like you.—

—It is me. I live here— she teased.

—Still. Smells like you. And also like Benny peed in the corner last time we left. But mostly you.—

Amelie rolled her eyes, laughing as she bent down to unzip Benny’s carrier. The second the flap opened, the fluffy silver cat practically leapt into her arms with a dramatic meow of relief, nuzzling into her neck like he hadn’t seen her in decades.

—Hi, mi bebé— she cooed, rocking him slightly, Benny’s tail curling up behind her like a question mark. —Did you survive the trauma of vacation?—

Björn, not to be outdone in dramatics, bounded out of his carrier, hissed at Lando for no apparent reason, and immediately launched himself onto the back of the couch, knocking over a stack of magazines in the process.

—He’s plotting my murder— Lando muttered, watching him warily. —I can feel it in my soul.—

—He’s just misunderstood,— Amelie said, pressing a kiss to Benny’s head before gently setting him down. —Like all men with commitment issues.—

—Rude.—

She smirked, tugging her suitcase toward the hallway, Benny now trotting proudly at her heels like a little fluffy knight. Lando followed with the rest of the luggage, glancing around the apartment with a deep, satisfying breath.

It was cozy—an open space lit with soft lamps and the dim gold spill from the city outside. Their living room still had the throw blanket they’d left crumpled on the couch before Cabo. A half-done puzzle on the coffee table. Her plants all thriving from the automatic watering system he still bragged about installing himself.

It felt lived in. Loved. The kind of place you missed before you even left.

Lando dropped the bags in their room and came back to find Amelie already in the kitchen, barefoot, hair tied in a messy bun, wearing a hoodie he hadn’t seen in months. His hoodie, he realized. The Miami GP one. His first win.

Something tight pulled in his chest. Fuck, he loved her.

—You cooking?— he asked, stepping behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

—We haven’t had a proper meal in two days. I need something that’s not airplane food or beach snacks, Lan,— she said, leaning back into him as she stirred a pan of olive oil and garlic. —Also, I need real pasta. Not “Lando thinks this is enough cheese” pasta.—

He buried his face in her neck. —Okay, but my pasta has character.—

—Your pasta gives me trauma.—

—Harsh.—

Amelie rolled her eyes, laughing as she bent down to unzip Benny’s carrier. The second the flap opened, the fluffy silver cat practically leapt into her arms with a dramatic meow of relief, nuzzling into her neck like he hadn’t seen her in decades.

—Hi, mi bebé— she cooed, rocking him slightly, Benny’s tail curling up behind her like a question mark. —Did you survive the trauma of vacation?—

Björn, not to be outdone in dramatics, bounded out of his carrier, hissed at Lando for no apparent reason, and immediately launched himself onto the back of the couch, knocking over a stack of magazines in the process.

—He’s plotting my murder— Lando muttered, watching him warily. —I can feel it in my soul.—

—He’s just misunderstood,— Amelie said, pressing a kiss to Benny’s head before gently setting him down. —Like all men with commitment issues.—

—Rude.—

She smirked, tugging her suitcase toward the hallway, Benny now trotting proudly at her heels like a little fluffy knight. Lando followed with the rest of the luggage, glancing around the apartment with a deep, satisfying breath.

It was cozy—an open space lit with soft lamps and the dim gold spill from the city outside. Their living room still had the throw blanket they’d left crumpled on the couch before Cabo. A half-done puzzle on the coffee table. Her plants all thriving from the automatic watering system he still bragged about installing himself.

It felt lived in. Loved. The kind of place you missed before you even left.

Lando dropped the bags in their room and came back to find Amelie already in the kitchen, barefoot, hair tied in a messy bun, wearing a hoodie he hadn’t seen in months. His hoodie, he realized. The Miami GP one. His first win.

Something tight pulled in his chest. Fuck, he loved her.

—You cooking?— he asked, stepping behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

—We haven’t had a proper meal in two days. I need something that’s not airplane food or beach snacks, Lan,— she said, leaning back into him as she stirred a pan of olive oil and garlic. —Also, I need real pasta. Not “Lando thinks this is enough cheese” pasta.—

He buried his face in her neck. —Okay, but my pasta has character.—

—Your pasta gives me trauma.—

—Harsh.—

Still, he helped. Poured wine. Took over chopping basil while she grated Parmesan with terrifying aggression. They moved around each other easily, like a dance they’d rehearsed a thousand times. Benny meowed from under the kitchen island, trying to guilt them into giving him a piece of cheese. Björn sulked on the windowsill, glaring at the moon.

Dinner was simple—pasta aglio e olio, grilled zucchini with lemon, a baguette they defrosted and stuck in the oven. Nothing fancy. But it felt perfect. Familiar. Like them.

They carried everything onto the balcony, where the warm Monaco breeze greeted them like an old friend. The city shimmered below, quiet and endless. They lit one of the candles Amelie kept in a little ceramic holder shaped like a sun, and the soft amber glow flickered over their plates.

—To being home,— Lando said, raising his glass.

—To wine that didn’t cost twenty euros a glass— she added, clinking hers against his.

They ate slowly, talking about everything and nothing. Benny settled in at Amelie’s feet, and Lando eventually got up to get the second bottle of wine after she made a face like this night deserves more. When he came back, she was curled in her chair, chin propped on her hand, eyes soft and sleepy from comfort more than exhaustion.

—You ever think about how weird this is? — she asked, swirling her wine glass, watching the pink liquid catch the light. —Like… this is our life now. Our place. Our cats. Our...— she paused, her eyes flicking up to his — …us.—

Lando smiled, then leaned back, his chair creaking slightly. —I think about it all the fucking time.—

She reached out and traced her finger along the rim of his glass. —You happy, Lan?—

He didn’t even hesitate. —I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.—

She smiled, a little crooked, a little tired. —Me too. It’s just… weird, isn’t it? How it turned out. After everything.—

He nodded, the weight of shared history sitting between them like a ghost that no longer haunted. —Yeah. But also, kinda perfect.—

Amelie’s foot nudged his under the table. —Don’t get sappy on me, Norris.—

—I will literally write you a poem right now. Do not tempt me.—

She laughed, head thrown back, hair catching the candlelight like a halo. And Lando just looked at her, chest tight with a kind of warmth that made everything slow down.

She was barefoot and drinking wine and laughing on their balcony at midnight, and somehow she still made him feel like that twenty-year-old idiot with a crush who couldn’t believe she even knew his name.

And now she was his. Fully. Finally.

—You know...— she said after a beat —...when I was younger, I used to dream about a place like this. Not like… Monaco, specifically. Just somewhere where I felt safe. Loved. Where people didn’t look at me like I was broken.—

Lando sat forward a little. —You’re not broken, Ames.—

She looked at him. Really looked. Then nodded, slow and certain.

—I know. Not anymore.—

They sat there until the second bottle was empty, and the city below started to doze off, windows going dark one by one.

Eventually, Benny crawled onto Amelie’s lap and fell asleep purring, Björn started chewing on the candle holder, and Lando stood up and offered her his hand.

—Come on, mi amor. Let’s go to bed before Björn eats fire.—

She took it, wine-soft and sleepy, and followed him inside.

Home.

Finally.

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

liked by mcclarenmama, carlando2020, and others

daymanupdates: Amelie was spotted in Monaco today with a lot of suitcases 👀 sources say Lando was also there

View all 48,991 comments

sunsetfia: not her flying from cabo straight into monaco wife duties like it’s casual 😭 → helmetkissy: @sunsetfia SHE PACKED HIS HOODIES I JUST KNOW IT 😭😭

lanmeliecore: she's not moving in. she’s coming home 🥹 → pietraskitchen: @lanmeliecore crying throwing up etc

mcclarenmama: 6+ suitcases is girl math for "i live here now" → wifeynorris: @mcclarenmama and one of them was 100% full of bikinis

bittermclaren: can she like not follow him everywhere??? → paddockprincess99: @bittermclaren respectfully, cry more → lanmeliesoldier: @bittermclaren u would too if he looked at you like that lmao

wagsurreal: y’all ever think maybe she’s just traveling?? not everything is lanmelie

f1gossipgirl: lando helping her carry the pink suitcase i know it → pitlaneprincess: @f1gossipgirl and the tote bag. and the iced oat latte. → chaoticwags: @pitlaneprincess he’s her luggage boy and he loves it

wifeydayman: the only girl who could move countries and it feels like SHE’S the one letting HIM in → maxiebestie: @wifeydayman she brought the vibes. the bed. the book. the wine glasses. the serotonin → ameliewastaken: @wifeydayman & the ✨surfboard✨ bc cabo traditions never die

norisimp: she better post a monaco dump or i’m calling the police → lanfan44: @norisimp if i don’t get one blurry pic of his hand on her thigh i’m RIOTING

lanmelienation: y’all she moved in. he’s never escaping now → landoveralls: @lanmelienation and he’s smiling about it 😭

hatercentral01: i’m sorry why are we pretending she’s not just clout chasing 😐 → pitrowangel: @hatercentral01 be serious. she literally doesn’t need him. she’s the main character

f1maldicion: watch lando start p2 and finish p1 next race just bc she’s in the same timezone again → charlesbaldspot: @f1maldicion the monaco magic is different when ur girl is brushing her teeth in your bathroom

lanmelie4life: imagine cuddling in a villa in cabo one day and then cohabiting in monaco the next… this is cinema

norrisnation: is this the “moved in” soft launch or are we getting a proper photo dump later → ameliecore: @norrisnation you know she’s gonna hit us with “home” and 8 blurry pics at golden hour → p1wifey: @ameliecore my body is READY

carlando2020: remember when lando couldn’t even look at her without blushing… and now she’s in his HOUSE → nando4everrr: @carlando2020 full romcom arc i’m sobbing → charleslechair: @carlando2020 from twitch streams to toothbrushes 😭

gridgoss: so we all agree this is not “visiting” energy right?? → sunshineinmonaco: @gridgoss respectfully she’s got drawer space

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

Sunlight filtered through the linen curtains in soft stripes, painting golden patterns on the hardwood floors and tangled bedsheets. A breeze from the cracked-open balcony doors stirred the hem of the sheer drapes and carried in the scent of salt, lavender, and warm stone. The city below was just waking up — Monaco stretching its arms with the sound of gulls and the low hum of distant boats on the water.

Amelie stirred first.

She blinked slowly, adjusting to the soft light before rolling over to face him. Lando was still asleep, shirtless, his curls a chaotic halo on his pillow, one arm flung over his head like he had no care in the world. His breathing was steady. Peaceful.

She stared at him for a long second.

Then the nerves hit her like a wave.

Today was the party. Their housewarming. Her housewarming, technically. The first home she’d truly made hers in years. Their friends were coming. People from both their worlds — drivers, musicians, old uni friends, people who had watched them go from chaos to comfort.

And suddenly, she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.

The champagne was already chilling in the fridge. The playlist had been obsessively curated the week before. The catering was set. But something about it all still felt… heavy. Like the weight of being seen. Being celebrated. The idea of everyone she loved in one place, looking at her, at them — it overwhelmed her.

She slipped out of bed quietly.

Benny was curled like a croissant at the foot of the bed, lifting his head just slightly to blink at her before yawning dramatically. She tiptoed out of the room, padded into the kitchen, and pulled a mug from the shelf with trembling hands.

She was halfway through boiling water when she heard footsteps.

Lando appeared in the doorway, eyes still heavy with sleep, hair sticking out in every direction. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, just grey sweatpants low on his hips, and he walked toward her with the kind of casual gravity that made her chest ache.

—Morning,— he mumbled, voice gravel and warmth.

She tried to smile. —Morning.—

He took one look at her face, then stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

—Talk to me,— he said softly. —What’s going on in that scary beautiful brain of yours?—

She let out a long breath, pressing her palms flat against the countertop.

—I’m just… nervous. I don’t know why. I want this. I planned every second of this. But it still feels like... I don’t know. Too much? Like I’m supposed to be someone I’m not today.—

Lando turned her gently so she was facing him.

He cupped her face in both hands, thumbs brushing along her cheeks.

—You don’t have to be anyone but yourself,— he said, eyes searching hers like he was trying to pull every worry straight out of her. —You planned this because it matters to you. You care about your people. You care about your space. That’s not too much, Amelie. That’s beautiful.—

She swallowed hard, the heat behind her eyes threatening to spill over.

—But what if it’s not enough? What if I’m not enough?— she whispered.

Lando’s jaw ticked, just slightly. Then he leaned in and kissed her forehead, slow and grounding.

—You are more than enough. You made this place magic. You made it ours. Everyone coming today? They’re proud of you. I’m proud of you. And not just because you picked the best champagne.—

She let out a choked laugh against his chest, burying her face there.

He wrapped her up tighter. —You’ve built something beautiful. Not just a home, but a whole life. And I get to be in it. That’s the part I still can’t believe.—

They stood there in the quiet hum of the morning, her forehead resting against his collarbone, his fingers running slow circles down her spine. Outside, the city grew louder, more alive, but inside it still felt like just them.

Eventually, Lando pulled back slightly, nudging her chin up with a crooked finger.

—Come on,— he said, smiling softly. —Let’s sit on the balcony. You need tea, and I need to watch you breathe for a minute before this place fills up with too many people and Oscar starts telling everyone how I snore.—

—You do snore,— she mumbled, letting him lead her by the hand.

—Not the point.—

They padded barefoot through the sunlit apartment, Benny trotting behind like a sleepy bodyguard. The balcony was already warm, kissed by the morning sun, with a view that stretched out across the glittering sea and the still-waking city.

Lando sat first, tugging Amelie gently into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. She curled into him instinctively, head on his shoulder, mug warming her hands.

For a few long minutes, they didn’t say anything. Just breathed.

Then he kissed her temple and murmured against her hair,

—You make Monaco feel like home.—

Amelie didn’t answer right away. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she leaned into his chest like her bones recognized the shape of him. When she did speak, it was barely above a whisper.

—You always felt like home.—

Lando’s arms tightened around her.

—Shit,— he whispered. —You’re gonna kill me with that one.—

She smiled softly, turning just enough to press a kiss to his jaw.

—You’re stuck with me, Norris.—

—Good. I’m not going anywhere.—

The moment stretched—safe and golden and slow. And when the breeze rustled her curls and the sun hit her face just right, Lando realized, not for the first time, that this—this exact second—was the dream.

Not the cars, not the podiums, not the interviews.

Her.

The rest of the morning unfolded with that same quiet softness.

They stayed on the balcony until their tea went cold, until Benny curled into the shadow beneath Amelie’s chair and started purring like a little engine, and until the sun crept high enough to paint everything in warm honey.

Eventually, Amelie pulled herself up with a sigh, stretching her arms above her head and letting the hem of Lando’s shirt ride up just a little.

—Alright,— she said. —Time to make the magic happen.—

Lando raised an eyebrow. —You mean you create magic and I get in the way and stress about whether we have enough ice.—

—Exactly,— she smirked.

Back inside, the apartment began to buzz with the energy of preparation. She put on a playlist—something vibey, something that felt like clinking glasses and late July—and stood in front of the mirror, trying to decide if she wanted to curl her hair or leave it soft and wild.

Lando watched her from the bed, sprawled across the duvet, phone in hand but attention fully on her. She caught him in the mirror once, smiling like an idiot.

—What?— she asked, fluffing her hair.

—Nothing. You’re just ridiculously hot when you’re bossy.—

—You haven’t even seen bossy yet, Norris. Wait ‘til the florals get here and someone messes up the table layout.—

He laughed, rolling onto his back. —Terrifying. Can’t wait.—

She smirked, turning up the music and twisting a strand of hair around her curling wand. For a while, the apartment was filled with the sound of whirring, the occasional curse as Amelie nearly burned her finger, and Lando singing off-key in the other room as he organized bottles of sparkling water like it was a championship.

By noon, the place looked like it belonged on the cover of a lifestyle magazine.

The table was set with pale linens and gold cutlery, the balcony had been transformed into a chic little lounge area, and the entryway smelled like fresh peonies and citrus. Benny wore a bowtie. Björn had been bribed with chicken to stay away from the decorations.

Amelie stood in the doorway of the kitchen, barefoot, a glass of iced tea in one hand, the other adjusting the collar of Lando’s shirt that still hung off her like a dress. She looked around at all of it—the color-coordinated napkins, the handwritten name tags, the soft instrumental track playing through the speakers—and felt something settle in her chest.

Not pride.

Peace.

—It’s beautiful,— Lando said, walking up behind her. He brushed her hair off her shoulder and kissed the exposed skin there. —You did it.—

She leaned back into him, resting her head against his. —We did it.—

He smiled. —Mostly you. I just moved the soda cans four times and got judged by your cat.—

—A team effort.—

She turned to face him then, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. A thank you. A grounding.

And when the buzzer rang for the first guest, she didn’t flinch.

She grabbed Lando’s hand instead.

—Let’s do this.—

The day would unfold in laughter, clinking glasses, stories shared between old friends and new ones, hugs that lingered too long, and a view of the Monaco skyline that made everyone pause mid-sentence. But in this exact moment—sunlight in her hair, Lando’s hand in hers, music floating through their home—Amelie felt it deep in her chest.

She was home.

And this was just the beginning.

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

liked by lanmelieupdates, minnieobsessed, and others

f1gossipgrid: Looks like Mr. Norris played host in Monaco tonight 👀🍸 Lanmelie living their domestic dream? We think yes.

View all 58,912 comments

gfsupremacy: be fr they’re living together i’m shaking → minnieobsessed: @gfsupremacy did u not see the suitcases?? it’s canon now → lanmelieupdates: @gfsupremacy soft launch of domestic lanmelie era 😭😭

f1hotmess: not me analyzing her nail polish to see how recent that story was → charlesbby: @f1hotmess detective behavior i respect it → lanmeliecentral: @f1hotmess timeline confirms: they’re nesting

elysiabestiee: ELYSIA POSTED THEM TOGETHER SHE’S SUCH A REAL ONE → lanmelieserve: @elysiabestiee the wags are wagginggg

gridgirlhour: monaco needs to thank amelie personally for the peace she brought to that man → stellasapproval: @gridgirlhour they’re literally monaco’s it couple now

wagsaremylife: me when i find out she moved in with him: 😭😭😭😭😭 → gfcoreclub: @wagsaremylife it’s giving wife behavior → checosbff: @wagsaremylife now we wait for the ring

leclovergirl: bro they’re literally domestic now??? WHO let them be this cute

lanmeliesource: not them soft launching that they live together with IG stories like we’re not watching with binoculars → monacogf: @lanmeliesource she’s literally been spotted with 3 suitcases and a tote bag. SHE’S MOVED IN.

sunnydaylan: i just KNOW she’s the one who made him buy a proper wine opener → chaoticamelie: @sunnydaylan and matching glasses. this is her house now.

paddocktea: they went from secret sneaky link to domestic monaco co-parents to the cats in 3 business days

minniesthings: someone said Lando moved in with HER actually and they might be right → pietrashusband: @minniesthings Monaco is hers now. He’s just living in it.

bnnybabe: i bet they argue about closet space and then go cuddle

hatersofjoy: they’re cute and all but y’all act like they invented love → wagwatchers: @hatersofjoy babe just say you miss your ex and go

lanmelieupdates: this better mean more sunset dumps, beach walks and lando in linen shirts → girlieswhogossip: @lanmelieupdates and amelie stealing every hoodie he owns. we win.

monacorats: lando throwing a party in his apartment with her friends… they’re nesting → lanlies: @monacorats someone get them a label maker and a shared calendar already 😭

manchildcore: why is lando glowing like that. blink twice if u got domesticated → chaoticwags: @manchildcore he blinked once and smiled… he’s doomed 💀 → carlossainzfan99: @chaoticwags man went from manchild to malewife in 3 months

lanmelieupdates: if they’re not living together just say that. but if they are. also just say that. → landofthegrid: @lanmelieupdates i’d physically collapse if we got a story of her cooking in his hoodie → stilgonnacry: @landofthegrid you mean their hoodie now

lanmeliepropaganda: someone said “they’re nesting” and i haven’t known peace since → booktokwag: @lanmeliepropaganda next slide better be a cat tower and a joint lease

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

The garden buzzed softly with the golden energy of late afternoon turning into evening. The soft glow of string lights wove between olive trees and trailing wisteria, casting a dreamy shimmer across the long, rustic tables draped in white linen. Candle flames flickered in little glass jars. Bouquets of rosemary and white peonies dotted the tables, nestled between bowls of handmade pasta, platters of grilled vegetables, and bottles of wine chilled in silver buckets.

It was everything Amelie had pictured—an Italian dinner party tucked into the heart of Monaco. Simple. Warm. Loud in all the right ways.

Lando sat beside her at the center of the longest table, both of them squished between their families—his mum, Cisca, to his right, and her brother Elias to her left. Their knees brushed beneath the table. His hand stole from her plate whenever he thought she wasn’t looking. She always was.

At one point, she caught him scooping a forkful of her lemon risotto and muttered, —You have your own,— without even turning her head.

—I know,— Lando whispered, chewing. —But yours tastes better.—

Cisca laughed, shaking her head. —He used to do that to me, too. Don’t take it personally.—

—Too late,— Amelie deadpanned, sipping her wine.

Lando grinned and leaned in close. —You love me anyway.—

—Debatable.—

But she was smiling, her cheeks already warm from laughter and pinot grigio. The entire evening felt like a dream—just soft clinks of cutlery, bursts of shared stories, kids running between tables barefoot, and the undeniable glow of two families who’d long since blurred into one.

And through it all—through the hum of music, the smell of basil and smoke, the distant crashing of waves—Amelie felt tethered.

It wasn’t two families anymore.

It was just one.

She leaned into Lando’s shoulder, watching everyone through soft lashes. —They like each other.—

He glanced down at her, one arm draped casually behind her chair. —They’re kind of obsessed with each other. I think your mom invited my dad on a yacht trip.—

Amelie snorted. —That’s concerning.—

—Also, your brother just arm-wrestled Oscar over who gets the last cannoli. Jack won. I’m a little scared of him now.—

—I’ve been telling you.—

A beat passed. Then Lando’s hand found hers again. He didn’t say anything. Just squeezed. As if to say, Look what we built.

And when she turned to look at him—his curls messy from the breeze, his smile lazy and full of wine, his eyes lit like he couldn’t quite believe this was real—Amelie’s chest tightened in that beautiful, impossible way it always did with him.

He leaned down, his lips brushing her temple as he whispered, —You did good, bébé.—

—We did,— she whispered back.

Dinner turned into dessert. Then dessert turned into dancing under the stars. The night stretched, sweet and slow, all the way to midnight.

And for a moment—just a small, sacred moment—Lando pulled her to the side, behind the olive trees strung with lights. Away from the laughter, the music, the clinking glasses.

Just them.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at her.

She stood still beneath the soft twinkle of the fairy lights, barefoot in the grass, the hem of her dress brushing her knees, curls loose around her face. There was music in the background—someone had queued a Fleetwood Mac song—and it floated toward them like a memory.

Lando’s hands found her waist, gentle, grounding. He looked at her like he was still trying to figure out how this was his life. How she was his.

—You okay?— she asked quietly, voice softer than the breeze.

He nodded. But didn’t let go.

—Yeah. I just needed a second. Just us.—

Amelie tilted her head, eyes catching the way the light danced across his face. —We’ve been surrounded all day. I almost forgot what your voice sounds like when you’re not yelling across the table.—

He grinned. —Well, in that case…— He dipped his head, pressing a kiss just under her jaw. —Hi.—

She melted into a laugh, curling her arms around his neck. —Hi.—

They swayed there, no music needed. Just the hush of the night and the distant sound of someone—probably Charles—trying to convince Timothée to race go-karts tomorrow morning.

Lando let out a slow breath, forehead against hers.

—I’ve never had this before,— he murmured. —Not just the party. Not just the house. This. You. The way everything feels like it actually matters now.—

Amelie’s fingers threaded through the curls at the nape of his neck. —You’ve always mattered, Lando.—

He pulled back enough to look at her. Really look. The kind of gaze that felt like it saw all of her—past, future, all the quiet pieces in between.

—I know. But now it feels like I get to live it. Not just dream it.—

The world felt still for a moment. Like even the wind held its breath.

Then Amelie leaned in, her lips brushing his slowly, like a promise.

—This is just the beginning, you know.—

—Good,— he said, his voice barely a whisper. —Because I don’t want it to end. Ever.—

Back at the tables, someone popped another bottle of champagne. Laughter echoed across the garden. A voice shouted, "Amelie! Lando! Come dance!"

They pulled apart reluctantly.

—Shall we?— she asked, offering her hand.

Lando took it with a grin that cracked his whole face open. —Lead the way, mi amor.—

And together, hand in hand, barefoot and full of everything that made life feel like poetry, they returned to the party they built with love.

The stars blinked above them, quiet witnesses to something rare and real. And beneath them, laughter and light spilled into the night like it would never end.

And maybe, for them, it never really would.

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

liked by lando, flo_norris_showjumping, and others

ameliedayman: 🏠

View all 200,133 comments

elysiadayman: mom era unlocked. who taught you to be this pretty?? → ameliedayman: @elysiadayman u did 🥲💌 → minniemills: @elysiadayman this whole post smells like SPF and domestic bliss i’m gonna cry

flo_norris_showjumping: excuse me??? why wasn’t i invited to jump on the sofa. i’m calling the authorities → ameliedayman: @flo_norris_showjumping you were busy doing flo things 😔 → ciscanorris1: @flo_norris_showjumping let her be in love in peace

pietrapilao: the monaco girl aesthetic is crawling its way under my skin and it’s YOUR fault → ameliedayman: @pietrapilao get here and we’ll make it worse 😇

lanmeliefilms: THE KISS THE KISS THE KISSSSS → lanmeliepropaganda: @lanmeliefilms romeo & juliet who??? it’s lando & his monaco muse → norrispasta: @lanmeliefilms they kissed so hard i forgot how to read

chaoticwags: why is she the only person who’s ever made monaco look fun → booktokwag: @chaoticwags the power of falling in love with a man who pays taxes there

lando: photo 12 is crazy. delete it before i lose my mind → ameliedayman: @lando u literally kissed me → lando: @ameliedayman yeah and i’ll do it again

stilgonnacry: the white set, the yacht, the pasta… i’m spiraling in poverty → f1fangirlie: @stillgonnacry you missed benny and the kiss and the aperol spritz → l4nmeliedefense: @stillgonnacry god’s strongest soldiers are in this comment section

thatf1teapage: ok but no one gonna talk about how she basically lives there now?? → lanmelieupdates: @thatf1teapage she posted more monaco balconies than lando this month → okamelia: @thatf1teapage just say we live together and go

monacosocialclimbers: she’s cute but let’s not act like being Lando’s gf isn’t her whole personality now

stelladayman: at least wear shoes next time before jumping on a man’s sofa → ameliedayman: @stelladayman what do u want from me woman

lanmeliearchive: no bc this is a house tour disguised as a photo dump → booktokwag: @lanmeliearchive and i studied every pixel

n4mours: lanmelie having pasta, kissing, sunbathing AND calling over stray cats. what genre is this → stilgonnacry: @n4mours romance-core domestic heaven i fear

livelaughlanmelie: just say you live with him now. it’s okay. we support u → amelieangel: @livelaughlanmelie one 🏠 emoji and she broke the internet

alex_albon: so no invite to the yacht huh → ameliedayman: @alex_albon ur not hot enough to be yachtcore → alex_albon: @ameliedayman lies. i wear linen now

yachtgirlamelie: she’s not living in Monaco she IS Monaco → gardenoflanmelie: @yachtgirlamelie she’s the view. she’s the main event.

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

The night had quieted, that unmistakable post-party hush settling into the bones of the house. The last bottle of wine had been emptied. The fairy lights were still glowing in the garden, flickering like fireflies strung across olive branches, though the tables sat mostly cleared now—crumpled napkins, half-melted candles, and the lingering echo of laughter that had spilled into the early hours.

Everyone had gone.

Well—almost everyone.

Back at the apartment, the space still held the warmth of the evening, of barefoot kids dancing in the grass and too many toasts to count. Amelie had slipped off her shoes the moment they walked in. Now, her curls were half up in a messy clip, her sleeves rolled past her elbows as she stood over the sink, up to her wrists in bubbles.

—You didn’t have to help, you know,— she said, flicking a bit of foam at Lando’s face.

He didn’t flinch, just smirked as he wiped it off with the dishtowel in his hands. —You’re cute when you’re domestic.—

She shot him a look. —You’re cute when you don’t talk.—

He laughed—really laughed—and for a moment it was just that sound between them, comfortable and easy. He stood beside her, drying each plate she passed over, sliding them back into their cabinets with quiet rhythm. The kitchen smelled like lemon and olive oil, their fingers still pruney from the night.

Behind them, their parents had taken over the living room. Adam and Elias sat on the couch, half a bottle of wine between them, talking about some GP from 2008 like it was yesterday. Cisca and Victoria were curled up in the armchairs, barefoot and cozy, gossiping and giggling like sisters.

None of them rushed to leave.

They didn’t have to.

They’d become one family a long time ago.

Elias looked toward the kitchen, nudging Adam gently. —Look at them,— he murmured. —You’d think they’ve been doing this forever.—

Adam followed his gaze. There stood Amelie, flicking water at Lando with her elbow, laughing too hard to hold the next dish still. Lando bumped her shoulder with his, smiling in that crooked, soft way he always did when he thought no one was looking.

—They’ve figured it out,— Adam said quietly, voice thick with something that might’ve been awe or pride or both. —That thing we all chase. They found it young. And somehow didn’t screw it up.—

Cisca smiled from the armchair, a knowing look in her eyes as she sipped her tea. —They grew up together. But more than that, they grew toward each other. There’s a difference.—

Victoria leaned forward slightly, her elbows on her knees. —I think they always knew. Even when they pretended they didn’t.—

From the kitchen, another burst of laughter echoed—Amelie had tried to stack two wet bowls and one had gone clattering to the floor (miraculously not breaking). Lando had caught it midair, held it above his head like a trophy, and she’d curtsied like he’d just performed a miracle.

Elias chuckled softly, shaking his head. —God, she was unbearable about him when they were just ‘friends’. You remember, Vic?—

—She used to pause Formula One races just to take screenshots of his smile,— Victoria added, half-mocking, half-melting. —Swore she wasn’t in love. Lied to my face every Sunday.—

Cisca laughed, glancing over at her son now—still in slacks and an unbuttoned dress shirt, curls flopping into his eyes as he dried a wineglass. —He was worse. He knew. He just didn’t think he deserved her yet.—

The parents went quiet for a second, caught in the stillness of it. In the realization that maybe, just maybe, their kids were… settled.

Not just in a relationship.

But in love.

Real, deep, this-is-my-life kind of love.

In the kitchen, the last plate was dried. Amelie flicked off the faucet and dried her hands on a towel, sighing with contentment. Lando leaned back against the counter, watching her with the kind of look that softened every angle of his face.

—That’s everything,— she said.

—Wanna start a cleaning business with me?— he teased, tossing the towel into the laundry bin.

—If I get to be the one who bosses you around, maybe.—

Lando grinned and pulled her closer by the waist. —So… always, then?—

She leaned into him, eyes bright. —Always.—

They turned back toward the living room just as their parents began to rise. Cisca was already slipping on her flats, and Victoria had gathered the leftover cake box into her tote bag. Hugs came next—warm, long, familiar. Everyone smelled like lavender and red wine and the faintest trace of garden smoke.

Adam pulled Lando in first, clapping his back. —Proud of you, mate. Really proud.—

Elias kissed the top of Amelie’s head and whispered, —She did good. You both did.—

Then came the last goodbyes, the echo of soft footsteps down the hall, and the click of the front door.

Just them again.

Quiet.

Still warm.

Lando stretched. —I’m gonna take a quick shower. You want anything?—

Amelie shook her head, already walking toward the kitchen again. —I’m gonna open wine. Maybe find a movie or something stupid on Netflix.—

—Rom-com stupid or sci-fi stupid?—

—Dealer’s choice.—

He disappeared into the bedroom with a lazy salute, and she laughed under her breath as she moved toward the counter.

That’s when the knock came.

Three soft raps.

She blinked, startled. Everyone had left. Slowly, she padded back to the door and opened it...

—Dad?—

Elias stood in the hallway, backlit by the soft light of the corridor. His hair was slightly windblown, his shirt wrinkled, and he was holding a plain, medium-sized cardboard box.

—I forgot to give you this,— he said, his voice gentler than before. —We’ve had it for years. You left it behind when… well, when you didn’t want to see it anymore.—

Amelie stared at it. Her heart stuttered.

The box was taped shut, but her name was still scribbled in faded sharpie across the top. She remembered it now—shoved into the back of her childhood closet after one particularly bad night when Lando was dating someone else and she’d told herself she was done pretending they were only friends.

—I kept it,— Elias added, handing it over. —We all did. Your mom said one day you’d want it back.—

Her throat felt tight as she took it from his hands.

Elias leaned forward and kissed her temple, just once. —Goodnight, mi cielo. You did good today.—

She nodded, too overwhelmed to say much else. —Love you.—

—Always.—

And then he was gone.

Amelie closed the door, leaned against it for a moment, then slowly looked down at the box in her arms.

A whole different lifetime.

Photos. Notes. Race tickets. Birthday cards. The hoodie she once claimed “smelled too much like him” to keep wearing.

She set it down on the coffee table and ran her fingers along the top, half-smiling to herself.

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

alex_albon replied to your story

alex_albon: ur spine okay bro? lando: worth the scoliosis alex_albon: simp behavior. proud of u

charles_leclerc replied to your story

charles_leclerc: that’s love or gym pain lando: both. she’s packing bricks charles_leclerc: 💀

georgerussell63 replied to your story

georgerussell63: u soft now lando: and u jealous georgerussell63: touché

danielricciardo replied to your story

danielricciardo: carrying the emotional weight too I see lando: shut up I’m in my domestic era danielricciardo: I blinked and you became a husband

maxfewtrell replied to your story

maxfewtrell: is that before or after she yelled at you for leaving a wet towel on the floor lando: during. multitasking king maxfewtrell: proud. terrified. but proud.

carlossainz55 replied to your story

carlossainz55: hermanooo… whipped. lando: and hydrated 💅 carlossainz55: she’s got you in a chokehold and you love it lando: she owns me it’s fine

pierre_gasly replied to your story

pierre_gasly: bro u blinked and became domesticated lando: soft launch? no. full IKEA era. pierre_gasly: she got u building drawers and folding throws 😭

emmachamberlain replied to your story

emmachamberlain: not you acting like a Disney prince lando: can’t help it if she’s my princess 🙄 emmachamberlain: ok romantic. go touch grass lando: I’d rather touch her

hannahmeloche replied to your story

hannahmeloche: you carry her once and suddenly you’re a golden retriever boyfriend lando: I’ve been one. you’re late hannahmeloche: and you’re whipped lando: correct ✅

elysiadayman replied to your story

elysiadayman: did she bribe you to post this lando: nah she threatened me 💅 elysiadayman: sounds about right lando: help me

jadenhossler replied to your story

jadenhossler: and she still hates golf lando: she says I’m the exception jadenhossler: L + ratio + whipped lando: absolutely.

[kathlare]

wildest dreams

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: During a dreamy getaway in Los Cabos, Lando and Amelie bask in domestic bliss, cheeky pranks, and the sizzling tension that only deep love—and playful chaos—can create.

Wordcount: 6.8 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

July 16th, 2025 - Comporta, Portugal

The villa was quiet. The only sound came from the ocean brushing against the shore outside, a rhythmic lull that usually sent everyone to sleep early after long days under the sun.

But not Max and Amelie.

They were still sitting outside on the terrace, half-drunk, barefoot, and wrapped in throw blankets stolen from the living room. A half-empty bottle of rosé sat between them, condensation dripping down the glass, and an almost-finished bowl of popcorn was resting on Max’s knee.

The air was warm, humid with salt and breeze. The lantern lights hanging from the pergola above flickered softly, casting a golden glow over Amelie's flushed cheeks and Max’s messy hair.

—I can’t believe Pietra knocked out before me,— Max laughed, swirling his wine glass lazily. —Usually I’m the one passed out by ten.—

Amelie grinned, pulling her knees to her chest. She had one of Lando’s t-shirts on—big and worn and smelling like his cologne—and bikini bottoms, her hair still wet from the night swim they’d all taken hours earlier.

— She was exhausted, Max. You dragged her into playing tequila pong with you and Lando like we’re nineteen.—

—And you didn’t stop me,— he said, accusingly, raising a brow.

—I wanted to watch you lose.—

He rolled his eyes but laughed.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, the peaceful kind, while Amelie toyed with a loose thread on her blanket and Max leaned his head back to look at the stars.

—You ever think about it?— Max said suddenly, eyes still on the sky.

Amelie tilted her head. —Think about what?—

—All of this. The future. Like… what comes next. After the noise and the paddocks and the social media shit. After we’re not hot and interesting anymore.—

She snorted. —Speak for yourself, Fewtrell. I’ll be hot until I’m eighty.—

—Okay, true,— he chuckled. —But you know what I mean.—

Amelie quieted. Her gaze dropped to the rim of her wine glass. The crickets chirped softly in the background, the kind of sound you didn’t notice until everything else was still.

—Yeah,— she finally said. —I think about it all the time.—

Max shifted in his seat, turning a little to face her better. —And? What do you see?—

Amelie chewed on her lip for a second, then shrugged. —I dunno. Something slower, I think. Less eyes. A garden. Maybe two cats... oh wait, I already have that.—

—Who both terrify me, by the way,— Max pointed out.

—They’re harmless.—

—Björn threw a glass off the shelf because I looked at him for too long.—

—He’s dramatic. Fits right in with the rest of us.—

Max laughed again, a warm, easy sound, and took another slow sip of his drink. The kind of buzzed where you’re not drunk, just soft. Honest.

—You ever get tired of it?— he asked after a moment. —All the attention? The noise?—

Amelie was quiet again. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and looked out toward the dark silhouette of the ocean, glittering faintly under the moonlight.

—Sometimes,— she admitted. —I mean… I love what I do. I love performing, and I’m grateful, always. But yeah. I miss normal shit. I miss walking down the street holding someone’s hand without it being a headline. I miss dates. Like… proper, cheesy dates.—

Max blinked. —You and Lando don’t go on dates?—

She gave him a look. —Max, when do we have time? When we’re not working, we’re traveling. And when we do go out, it’s always this whole thing. Security, disguises, a million people whispering around us. I love him, I do. More than anything. But sometimes I wish I could just… go to a fucking movie with him. You know?—

There was a long pause before she added, almost shyly.

—I don’t want a perfect life. Just a little more normal.—

Max watched her closely for a second, softer now. His usual teasing gone. Just a friend looking at someone he’s known through too many seasons.

—Does he know that?—

She opened her mouth, then hesitated. Her throat felt a little tight. The wine wasn’t helping.

—I don’t think so. I mean… it’s not like I’m unhappy. I’m not. He’s everything to me. But maybe I’ve just been scared to say it. Because we worked so hard to get it right this time. I don’t want to seem ungrateful.—

Max’s brows furrowed. —Ames, telling someone what you need doesn’t make you ungrateful. It makes you honest.—

She gave him a small smile. —I know. I just… sometimes it’s easier to pretend everything’s fine than risk shaking the boat, you know? Especially when you’re in love.—

He nodded. They were both quiet again, the sound of waves filling the space between them.

—You really love him, huh?—

Her smile grew, soft and almost sad. —I always have. Even when I didn’t want to.—

Max was about to say something when a quiet voice cut through the terrace.

—It’s two in the morning.—

Both of them turned.

Lando was standing barefoot by the sliding glass door, his hair a mess of curls from sleep, wearing only his boxers and one of Amelie’s silk robes—green with little palm trees embroidered on it. His eyes were heavy with sleep, but his voice was clear.

—And you’re both loud as fuck.—

Amelie’s heart jumped a little, but she tried to mask it with a small grin. Max only raised his hands in mock surrender.

—Sorry, Dad.—

Lando narrowed his eyes. Then looked at Amelie. Something unreadable flickered in his gaze.

She offered him a soft smile. —Sorry, Lan. We got carried away.—

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked between the two of them for a second longer. Then finally nodded once, rubbing his hand through his hair.

—Come to bed,— he said, voice gentler now.

Amelie stood slowly, barefoot on the warm tile, and reached over to gently squeeze Max’s arm before walking past him. —Night, Maxy.—

—Night, Ames.—

Lando held the door open as she passed, and gave Max a quick, tight nod before following her inside. They didn’t speak again until they were back in the bedroom.

The room was dim, lit only by the glow of a single lamp on the nightstand. Amelie walked straight to the bed and slipped under the covers, tugging Lando’s robe from his shoulders as he crawled in beside her.

He didn’t say anything at first, just settled beside her, arm draped across her waist, his face buried in her neck.

She thought maybe he’d fallen asleep, until...

—You wanna go on more dates with me?— Lando’s voice was low, almost shy, spoken directly against her skin.

Amelie’s breath caught.

She shifted slightly to look at him, his curls tickling her cheek. His eyes were open now, watching her carefully in the faint light.

—You heard that,— she murmured, not quite a question.

He nodded. —Not everything… just enough.—

Her throat went dry. She bit her lip, fingers playing absently with the edge of the blanket between them. She didn’t want to lie. Not to him.

—It’s not that I’m not happy,— she whispered. —I am, Lan. I really am. I just… I miss the little things, sometimes. Like sneaking out to a shitty diner at 1am or going to a fair and getting candy stuck in our hair. I miss not needing disguises, or tinted windows, or having to think about what picture might end up on some account.—

Lando stared at her, eyes soft but a little tired. —You think I don’t miss that too?—

Her lips curved. —I know you do. You used to drag me to McDonald’s at midnight for milkshakes just because you were bored.—

He smiled at that. —I still would if you’d let me.—

—We’d have fifteen photos taken before we got to the drive-thru window.—

—Then we’ll rent the whole fuckin’ place. Fuck it.—

Amelie laughed softly, and Lando shifted closer, hand coming up to brush a few strands of hair from her face.

—I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t tell me these things, Ames. Ever. You’re not ungrateful. You’re human. And I’m your boyfriend.— He kissed her cheek, lingering there. —I wanna give you all of it. The big shit and the small shit. And if what you need are dumb, normal, stupidly cheesy dates? Then I’ll give you that too.—

She blinked at him, overwhelmed. His voice, his words, the way he always made her feel like she wasn’t asking for too much.

Her chest squeezed. She leaned forward, nose brushing his.

—I love you, Lan.—

—I know you do,— he whispered, kissing her gently. —I love you more.—

She smiled against his lips, curling into him as he tugged the blanket higher over them.

And somewhere in the quiet of the room, with the waves humming outside and the wine still warm in her blood, she whispered.

—Thanks for hearing me.—

Lando tucked his face into her shoulder, holding her a little tighter. —Always, cariño. Always.—

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

liked by dayman_daily, unionjackbarbie, and others

ameliedayman: newsflash pal

View all 92,001 comments

maxfewtrell: that’s crazy. not one photo of me. after everything we’ve been through → ameliedayman: @maxfewtrell you were asleep for 3/4 of this dump babes → lando: @maxfewtrell he woke up just for lunch don’t give him too much credit

ciscanorris1: obsessed with the barefoot white dress energy. she’s not a girlfriend she’s a nymph → ameliedayman: @ciscanorris1 i love you come over i have cake

flo_norris_showjumping: i’m stealing the black dress and the wine glass → ameliedayman: @flo_norris_showjumpping respectfully no

charles_leclerc: didn’t get an invite to surf. fake friend. → ameliedayman: @charles_leclerc you can’t even swim without complaining 🙄

lando: still trying to recover from slide 3. pick me up before my next race pls → ameliedayman: @lando no bc u made me take that barefoot

alex_albon: pls share where that arcade is i need a rematch → ameliedayman: @alex_albon i’m not scared. pull up

jadenhossler: she reads ONE book and now she’s better than everyone → ameliedayman: @jadenhossler you don’t even know how to spell “book”

f1sluttycorner: not to be dramatic but this entire photo dump smells like “girlfriend of the paddock” world domination → landoscarfan: @f1sluttycorner Lando is just living in her vibe now and he’s THRIVING

hotgirlinsector3: this white dress gave Lando the audacity to win silverstone idc → mclarenmuse: @hotgirlinsector3 it’s not the shoes, it’s the barefoot girlfriend magic

gridgossipcentral: remember when ppl said she was bad for him?? lmao look at her glowing and him winning → lanmelie4everrr: @gridgossipcentral they healed each other’s inner child and now we’re all reaping the rewards

landozonlyfan: she’s cute or whatever but why is she everywhere lately

trackrat90: manchild poster is kinda fitting since she’s dating one 🤷‍♀️ → gridgirl69: @trackrat90 you sound poor and single

f1gatekeeper: we miss the old Lando

pietrapilao: honestly i deserve a photo credit and a therapy voucher → ameliedayman: @pietrapilao i paid you in wine and trauma

stellaperez: glass of wine = crisis. black dress = violence. noted. → ameliedayman: @stellaperez who told you about the crisis

lanmelieupdates: THE BLACK DRESS??? she’s fighting for her life and we’re just watching → gridheartbeats: @lanmelieupdates she dressed like that and Lando STILL lets her outside. stronger man than me

f1gfcore: white dress barefoot book girly??? SHE’S A VILLAIN IN A ROMANTIC TRAGEDY → mclarenmoments: @f1gfcore and i’m sobbing in the audience

pitlaneprada: she’s surfing, reading, dressing like an angel, playing arcade games and dating lando… some of us are NOT ok

georgerussell63: why are you always in a dress or doing crimes → ameliedayman: @georgerussell63 i multitask

emmachamberlain: who let you cook like this??? → ameliedayman: @emmachamberlain chef certified, michelin delulu

lanmeliecontent: YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO BE THIS SOFT AND HOT AT THE SAME TIME → wagsdeluxe: @lanmeliecontent she’s posting like she doesn’t know we have heart problems

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

The next morning bloomed warm and golden, the Cabo sun already climbing high as soft music drifted from the kitchen speakers. The scent of fresh fruit and salt hung in the air, lazy and sweet.

Max and Amelie were laid out on matching lounge chairs by the pool, sunglasses on, limbs stretched, a half-hearted conversation about the latest F1 gossip bubbling between them.

—You know he’s going to wear those horrible flame swim trunks again, right?— Amelie muttered, eyes closed.

Max snorted. —He loves those. Says they’re lucky.—

—They’re a crime.—

Just then, the sliding glass door to the villa creaked open and Lando stepped out, barefoot and squinting in the sun. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt and board shorts, two icy glasses of some fruit thing in hand, condensation already dripping down the sides. His curls were damp from the outdoor shower, and his eyes found Amelie’s instantly.

—Hey, sunshine,— he called, walking toward her. —Made you something cold. It might be 90% pineapple, though.—

Amelie pushed her glasses up and sat forward with a grin. —That’s exactly how I like it.—

Max groaned. —You guys are disgusting.—

Lando handed her the glass, leaned down to kiss the top of her head, then turned back toward the kitchen, only to freeze when he spotted someone else entering the room.

Pietra had come down the stairs in a little sundress, still tousled from sleep, eyes squinting in the light.

She stopped in her tracks, saw Lando mid-simp, and smirked.

—Aww. Look at this domestic little lovebug.—

Lando sighed, tipping his head back. —God, not you too.—

Pietra ignored him and walked past, stealing a piece of pineapple from his glass. —You’re such a simp. Like, full-send, ring-shopping, neck-kiss-level simp.—

He gave her a look, but he was grinning. —Yeah, well. She’s worth it.—

Pietra paused mid-chew. —Okay, fine. That was actually kinda sweet.—

Lando leaned against the counter, twirling his glass. Then, lowering his voice just slightly. —Hey… actually, I wanted to ask you something.—

Pietra raised an eyebrow. —Uh-oh.—

—No, no. It’s a good thing.— He glanced out toward the pool. Amelie had her head tipped back now, sunglasses on, legs stretched across Max’s lap as they argued about whether or not the hotel next door had real flamingos. —I’m trying to plan something for her. Just a little date night. Something normal, just for us. But I need like… a few hours without her around.—

Pietra smirked. —You want me to kidnap her?—

—I was thinking more like… drag her to that fancy beach boutique you were complaining about not visiting yet.—

Her grin widened. —Ah, strategic distraction. You want me to girlboss her away from the premises.—

—Exactly.—

Pietra crossed her arms and nodded approvingly. —Say no more. I’ll get her to try on 27 overpriced dresses and buy coconut oil she’ll never use.—

Lando grinned, relieved. —Thank you. You’re saving romance as we know it.—

Pietra saluted him with her glass. —Go make your stupid little fairy lights date or whatever. I got this.—

Minutes later, she emerged poolside with her own glass and plopped dramatically onto the empty lounger beside Max.

—Okay, ladies, we’re going shopping.—

Max sat up. —We are?—

—No, me and Amelie. You’re staying here to help Mr. Romance rearrange patio furniture or whatever.—

Amelie cracked one eye open. —Shopping? Now?—

—Yes. You promised to help me find that linen set I liked, remember? It’s urgent. Like, fashion emergency urgent.—

Amelie hesitated, looking back at Lando, who just gave her the most innocent, relaxed smile as he sipped his drink.

—Unless you’d rather sweat out here and listen to Max debate flamingo migration patterns?—

—I’m literally reading an article right now,— Max muttered, scrolling his phone.

Amelie laughed and pushed her sunglasses into her hair. —Fine, but I’m not trying anything on unless there’s air-conditioning.—

—Deal,— Pietra said, grabbing her hand and tugging her up.

As the girls disappeared toward the villa, Amelie tossed a curious glance back at Lando. He waved casually, still sipping his drink.

As soon as they were out of sight, Max let out a long sigh and sat up, slapping his hands on his knees.

—Alright, Romeo. Spill. What’s the plan?—

Lando looked over at him, a grin already tugging at the corners of his mouth. —Drive-in movie date. Old school. Vintage speakers on the windows, popcorn buckets, fairy lights, the whole thing.—

Max blinked. —Wait… like a real one?—

—Rented the whole thing,— Lando said, clearly proud of himself. —Private screen, classic movie, her favorite candy… and I got the guy to let me bring her car in, just for the vibe.—

Max stared at him, equal parts impressed and annoyed. —You’re making the rest of us look so bad, mate.—

Lando just shrugged. —She said she missed normal. I figured I’d give her some cheesy, movie-montage kind of night.—

Max stood, stretching his arms overhead. —You got fairy lights?—

—Box in the garage.—

—Cool. I’m on setup duty then?—

—You’re on everything-that-doesn’t-involve-flammable-wires duty.—

—So… everything.—

Lando snorted, handing him the now-empty glass. —Come on, let’s go. We’ve got three hours before Pietra starts pretending she “accidentally” spent half her credit limit.—

—She will do that,— Max muttered, following him inside.

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

liked by ameliesbabe, fewtrellfreak, and others

ameliedaymanupdates: Amelie was seen out shopping around Cabo today with Pietra.

View all 29,003 comments

lanmelie4everrr: she’s out shopping meanwhile lando prob trying on her sunglasses back at the villa 😭 → mclovindrivers: @lanmelie4everrr he already picked out a matching outfit don’t worry 💅

daymaniac: imagine being a surfboard in cabo right now. that close to amelie. → f1fangirl420: @daymaniac AND potentially lando in swim trunks. spiritual experience tbh → wagsupreme: @f1fangirl420 don’t bring the trunks into this i’m WEAK 😭

softforlanmelie: no pics of pietra? that woman is literally our aesthetic board → maxiesgf: @softforlanmelie the most powerful duo to touch a beachside boutique

champagnetruths: lando definitely carrying all the bags while she tries on jewelry

ciscasburner: bet lando’s her emotional support boyfriend today → norifairy: @ciscasburner he’s like “yes babe that bikini is stunning” for the 7th time in a row 💀💀

ameliesbabe: honestly if i saw her walking around cabo i’d just sit down and cry → pitlaneprincess: @ameliesbabe same. the hair?? the skin?? the walk?? lethal.

landobehaved: no way she’s slaying cabo like that while i’m here looking like a boiled shrimp → sunburntfan44: @landobehaved lando would still call you cute, he’s that boyfriend

wagswatchdaily: amelie in cabo = lando’s screen time skyrocketing → lanlore: @wagswatchdaily he’s been suspiciously quiet… he’s taking pics isn’t he 😭 → gridgossipgirl: @lanlore that’s the man behind the “get ready with me” angles

callumsburner: callum probably watching these stories like 😐 “appropriate swimwear pls” → teamamelie: @callumsburner meanwhile checo’s somewhere hyping her up 💅

mclovenotes: the way pietra and amelie are the hottest, most underrated duo → fewtrellfreak: @mclovenotes max and lando won the lottery and they KNOW it

glamnelie: she wakes up, eats fruit, soft smiles, shops, drinks wine, reads. she’s living the pinterest life → gridmother: @glamnelie don’t forget: she’s also dating THE Lando Norris. that’s goddess behavior

wagsunited: her being on a casual shopping trip while the rest of us are fighting for our lives on stan twitter 😭 → helmetkisser: @wagsunited she’s living in peace while we’re in the trenches and honestly? good for her

lanmeliecore: if lando shows up with beaded bracelets and a tote bag we’ll know who to thank → sundazef1: @lanmeliecore amelie’s cottagecore gf influence is STRONG and unstoppable

mclarensupremacy: imagine walking into a boutique and seeing her in a white linen set… I’d evaporate

maxywatch: pietra and amelie being seen together again?? we are so back → sunshinepierrez: @maxywatch give us the shopping vlog you cowards

landoismybfirl: lando somewhere in the villa drinking green juice and waiting for her to come back with candles and seashell earrings → chaoswags: @landoismybfirl and she’ll say “look how cute this is” and he’ll go “yeah baby i love it” without even knowing what it is 😭💘

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

The sun was already beginning to dip over Cabo, casting soft gold across the coastline as Amelie slumped into the cushioned seat of the black SUV, her head gently thudding against the headrest. The bags from the last five shops sat neatly packed in the trunk—linen dresses, overpriced sunscreen, random shell jewelry Pietra swore she needed.

Her sunglasses were pushed into her hair, strands clinging to her temples from the heat. She was exhausted, mildly sunburnt, and increasingly suspicious.

—Okay,— Amelie muttered, glancing at Pietra standing outside the SUV. —That was the sixth store. And you barely looked at anything in there. Be honest... are you avoiding the villa?—

Pietra froze for a second, then turned, a little too casually. —What? No. Chill. I just… want to look at one more place. That’s all.—

—That’s what you said two stores ago.— Amelie raised a brow. Her tone was light, but she was watching closely now. —You’re stalling.—

Pietra blinked, opening her mouth, then shutting it. Then she forced a smile. —Wow. I see the conspiracy theories are strong today.—

Amelie leaned forward, suspicious. —Did Lando ask you to keep me out of the villa?—

—What? No way,— Pietra said quickly, waving a hand like she was brushing off a ridiculous bug. —I’m just… trying to help you relax, okay? Maybe you don’t want to get back to that whole ‘everyone staring at you’ vibe just yet.—

Amelie narrowed her eyes. —Relax? Pietra, we’ve been walking in and out of stores for hours. I’m tired, and my feet are killing me. I want to go back. You’re the one dragging this out.—

Pietra glanced around like she was looking for an escape route, then shrugged. —Maybe I am. But maybe there’s a reason.—

Amelie’s heart skipped. She bit her lip and put two and two together in a snap—the late-night text from Lando, Pietra’s weird behavior, the never-ending store crawl.

—Wait a second,— Amelie said, voice low but firm. —You’re stalling because Lando found out I want a normal date. And you’re trying to keep me busy until he’s ready?—

Pietra’s eyes flickered away, and her grin got tight. —Maybe. Maybe not. Who’s counting?—

Amelie exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling up like a storm. —Look, I don’t want to fight. I’m tired, and I just want to get out of these damn heels.—

Pietra hesitated, then nodded slowly. —Okay. Maybe we should head back.—

Amelie’s shoulders relaxed a little, relieved but still wary.

She slid into the SUV and clicked her seatbelt.

As the door shut, Pietra’s phone buzzed.

—Wait a sec,— Pietra said, pulling out her phone. —My mom’s calling.—

Amelie groaned, resting her head back with a dramatic sigh. She shot Pietra an exasperated look.

—Seriously?— Amelie muttered, eyes narrowing but saying nothing.

Pietra just smiled, scrolling through her contacts. —Yeah, gotta take it.— She waved off Amelie’s look without a word and stepped out, closing the door behind her.

Amelie rolled her eyes but stayed quiet, the exhaustion making her not want to start anything.

Outside, Pietra pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed quickly.

—Hey, Lando. Yeah, we’re on our way back now.— She glanced at the SUV, then lowered her voice. —She’s getting tired, so I’m wrapping things up early. You can start getting ready.—

Lando’s voice buzzed softly through the phone speaker. —Got it. Can you give me like… 30 more minutes? I want to set everything up properly.—

—No problem.— Pietra smiled, hanging up and slipping the phone back into her pocket.

She took a deep breath, casting a glance at the black SUV before heading toward the driver’s side.

Just before opening the door, she crouched down silently by the front tire—no one watching—and pulled a small pocket knife from her bag.

With a precise flick, she pressed the blade into the rubber and made a small puncture, careful not to make a sound.

The tire hissed quietly, the damage enough to force a delay without making it obvious.

Pietra stood, brushing her hands on her dress and slipping into the car.

Inside, Amelie’s patience was fraying, though she kept her irritation carefully hidden.

Her foot tapped lightly against the floor as the minutes ticked by.

—Everything okay?— Pietra asked smoothly, eyes flicking to Amelie.

Amelie gave a tight smile. —Sure. Just… ready to be done.—

Pietra’s lips curved into a secretive smile, the plan unfolding exactly as she’d hoped.

—I'm ready. Let’s go—

And for now, Amelie had no idea she was about to be stuck just a little longer.

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

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

The villa stood quiet under the deep violet of the Cabo sunset, framed by golden lights that flickered warmly through the palm trees. The black SUV rolled to a slow stop on the cobblestone driveway, the headlights cutting across the wide front entrance. Amelie didn’t even wait for the engine to go off before she unbuckled her seatbelt with a sharp click and threw open the door.

She was tired. Her back ached. Her feet were on fire. And all she could think about was slipping into her pajamas, pouring herself a glass of wine, and crawling under a blanket with Benny. Preferably without Pietra casually steering her into yet another “charming little boutique.”

The back of the SUV slammed shut as Pietra jumped out with a bounce in her step. That alone made Amelie pause, narrowing her eyes as she dug through her purse for the keys.

—We’re finally home,— she muttered, heading up the stone steps.

She reached the door, keys in hand, ready to fling it open when she realized Pietra wasn't following.

—P?— Amelie turned around. —You coming?—

Pietra stood frozen a few feet behind her, grinning like she’d just heard the world’s best joke. One hand rested on her hip, the other clutched the strap of her purse. There was something… smug about her. Suspiciously smug.

—What?— Amelie asked, her brow furrowing. —Why are you looking at me like that?—

Pietra didn’t answer.

Instead, she tilted her head toward the SUV. And just as Amelie’s confusion was about to shift into full annoyance, a familiar voice drifted out from the other side of the vehicle.

—We’re not staying.—

Max’s head popped around the back of the SUV, casual as ever, hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts. He looked freshly showered and far too pleased with himself.

Amelie blinked. —What?—

—We’re heading out for dinner. Somewhere… far. Probably doesn’t even have cell service.— He grinned as he walked over to Pietra and opened her door for her like a damn chauffeur.

Pietra gave Amelie a wink as Max helped her in. —Have fun.—

Amelie took a step forward, hand still gripping her keys. —Wait. What do you mean have fun? Why aren’t you...?—

Max was already halfway back into the SUV. —Don’t worry. You’ll figure it out. Eventually.— He threw her a wink of his own before disappearing inside. The engine hummed back to life, and with one final smirk from the window, they rolled down the drive and into the night.

Amelie stood frozen for a moment, her heart thudding fast in her chest. She turned back toward the villa, suddenly unsure of what to expect. Her fingers fumbled with the keys as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Silence.

Everything looked normal.

The kitchen lights were on. A glass sat on the counter. Her tote bag was where she left it. No candles, no flowers, no romantic music. Just the soft hum of the AC and the distant sound of waves beyond the balcony doors.

She dropped her purse on the kitchen stool and kicked off her shoes, her brows still drawn tight in suspicion. —What the hell is going on?— she muttered to herself, walking slowly through the space.

She peeked into the living room. Nothing.

Bedroom? Still untouched.

She sighed, fingers raking through her hair as she made her way toward the balcony. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Maybe everyone had gone insane and she was just tired—

Then she stepped outside.

And saw it.

Down below, on the soft white sand of the private beach, was a handmade setup straight out of a movie.

A small drive-in cinema screen had been strung up between two tall wooden posts, glowing softly under a line of fairy lights. Cozy beanbags and thick blankets were spread out across a large patterned rug. A projector hummed quietly from behind a low table stacked with popcorn buckets and her favorite snacks. The unmistakable opening scene of Grease was already flickering on the screen in black and white.

And standing in the center of it all was Lando.

Hair tousled, barefoot in linen pants and a white t-shirt, a bouquet of yellow tulips in one hand, the other tucked into his pocket.

He looked up the moment he heard the sliding door and smiled.

Amelie froze, her hand clutching the balcony rail.

Her heart cracked open like it always did with him—too fast, too real, too much.

She didn’t even think. She turned and bolted down the spiral stairs, nearly tripping over her own feet as she sprinted across the lawn and down onto the sand.

Lando held the tulips up like a peace offering. —Surprise.—

She reached him, panting slightly, eyes wide.

He opened his arms with a hopeful grin, clearly expecting a hug.

Instead, she punched him—soft but swift—right on the arm.

—Ow, what the hell?!— he laughed, jerking back.

—That’s for keeping me away all day,— she said, voice breathless with disbelief and emotion.

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but before he could get a word out, she threw her arms around him and kissed him.

Hard.

The tulips bent awkwardly between them as Lando made a surprised noise and melted into the kiss, his free arm wrapping tight around her waist.

When she finally pulled back, Amelie rested her forehead against his and whispered, —You idiot.—

He grinned. —Takes one to love one.—

She snorted, brushing a hand down his chest. —Show me everything.—

—Yes ma’am.—

Lando took her hand and guided her toward the little beach cinema setup like it was their own secret world. And maybe it was.

Because for one night, under the soft Cabo stars, they weren’t celebrities, weren’t running from cameras, weren’t hiding from the world.

They were just Amelie and Lando.

Two kids in love.

Watching Grease with sand between their toes and tulips between them.

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

liked by daydreamlanmelie, norrisnation, and others

lanmelieupdates: Amelie & Lando both posting sunset pics at the same time? Date night confirmed 🔥🌅✨

View all 39,493 comments

sunsetwags: lando saw the sunset and said “lemme wife her real quick” 😭 → softlanmelie: @sunsetwags he’s 0.2 seconds away from dropping to one knee i’m scared → f1fangirl420: @softlanmelie say psych rn i’m not ready 😭😭

norrisnation: THEY’RE POSTING THE SAME SUNSET LIKE WE WON

amelieangelz: she’s glowing like she just got kissed under the sun don’t TOUCH me → lanlips: @amelieangelz she did. she absolutely did. check his story 😭 → seatbelts4lan: @lanlips you mean OUR story bc that’s OUR couple

maxxybby: can’t believe i used to think they were just friends 💀 → chaoticwags: @maxxybby girl we ALL lied to ourselves for years it’s ok → lanmeliecore: @chaoticwags “just friends” my ass they were soulmates in denial

lanfan88: they really soft launch hard launched then re-launched every week 😭 → amesupremacy: @lanfan88 we’re just living in their romcom

sunsetkneesocks: LANDO’S HAND ON HER WAIST IN THAT PIC HELLO⁉️ → daisyslick: @sunsetkneesocks that man is in love and not hiding it 😭🫠 → ameliesicedcoffee: @sunsetkneesocks the hand placement is CRAZY

wagscentral: not them giving us pinterest material for free

daydreamlanmelie: this is why he’s been driving like a menace lately… he’s too happy → pietrasbf: @daydreamlanmelie happiness buff unlocked

maxielagenda: max seeing these and pretending he doesn’t care 😭 → charles_gf: @maxielagenda he misses the third wheeling era

lanxmelie4life: THEY’RE MAKING ME BELIEVE IN LOVE AGAIN → breakupwithmepls: @lanxmelie4life we are not surviving their wedding i fear

lanxmeliecore: ok but how is this not a romcom promo?? → nails4lan: @lanxmeliecore she’s the manic pixie dream gf and he’s obsessed

shesthechicane: i just KNOW she picked the matching sunset pics 😭 → prayingforlando: @shesthechicane he’s giving “yes babe” energy always

waggednready: she’s literally glowing. like??? lando be serious. → lanstan44: @waggednready man is DEF eating his greens and kissing his gf daily

yalllovedramaa: y’all acting like this is the second coming of christ it’s just a date 💀

helmetnheels: they post ONE photo and f1 twitter combusts 😭 → pitwallproblems: @helmetnheels they control the algorithm i fear

lonelyinlap3: it’s giving too curated tbh

pitlaneprophet: not y’all romanticizing two millionaires on a beach → grillthegridwife: @pitlaneprophet let me romanticize in peace 😭

lanmelie4prison: lando could do better lol sorry not sorry

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

The stars stretched endlessly above them, scattered across the ink-black sky like glitter flung by some careless hand. The moon was thin but bright, casting a silver sheen over the sand and the tips of the waves that lapped gently just a few meters away. The only sounds were the hush of the ocean, the occasional crackle of their nearly burned-out bonfire, and the faint buzz of cicadas in the distance.

Lando lay on his back, hands folded behind his head, eyes on the constellations. Amelie was beside him, curled on her side in one of his hoodies, her cheek resting against her arm as she watched him more than the sky.

They had been like that for a while—quiet, warm, full from dinner and still glowing from the movie setup he’d surprised her with. Her fingers had found his during the end credits and hadn’t let go since.

—This is kinda perfect,— she murmured after a while, voice low, like she didn’t want to break the spell.

Lando smiled, still looking up. —Yeah… I know we always joke about being main characters, but this feels obnoxiously cinematic.—

She snorted softly. —Right? There should be a slow indie ballad playing in the background.—

—Probably Phoebe Bridgers or something French,— he added.

A beat passed. Amelie blinked at the stars above, suddenly overwhelmed by how infinite they were. How small they were in comparison.

—Do you wanna play something?— she asked.

Lando turned to look at her. —Like what?—

She pushed up on her elbow and reached behind her, grabbing something from the tote bag she’d brought down earlier. When she turned back, she was holding a small red box with white letters.

WE’RE NOT REALLY STRANGERS

—Oh no,— Lando groaned, already grinning. —You brought the feelings game.—

—Yup.— She opened the box and started shuffling the cards. —Suffer with me.—

—You know I will. Go on, then.—

She picked one at random, reading it under the firelight. Her brows lifted. —Okay, starting strong: What about me feels most familiar to you?—

Lando didn’t even hesitate.

—Everything,— he said. —You… you feel like home. Like I’ve known you before I actually met you. Which sounds creepy, but you know what I mean.—

Amelie blinked slowly, her chest going soft and tight at once.

—Okay, asshole,— she said, laughing through the lump in her throat. —Top that answer, I dare you.—

He smirked and plucked a card for her. —Alright then. What part of your life do you feel most misunderstood in?—

She hesitated.

Her gaze dropped to the sand between them, fingers idly tracing shapes.

—I think… people think because I smile a lot and laugh and post pretty photos, that I’m fine all the time. That I’ve moved on from things that still keep me up at night. But I haven’t.—

She swallowed hard, then looked at him.

—Except with you. You don’t pretend I’m okay just because I look okay. You see all the mess and still… stay.—

Lando’s throat worked as he stared at her.

—I don’t think there’s ever been a second where I wanted to leave,— he said.

She reached for his hand again, squeezing it tightly.

—Your turn,— she whispered.

He pulled a new card, then laughed under his breath.

—Oh god. This one says: What do you think our relationship teaches others?—

Amelie tilted her head. —That’s a good one.—

—I think… it teaches that waiting can be worth it,— he said. —That love doesn’t have to be instant or perfect right away. That sometimes it’s messy and complicated and full of timing issues, but if you want each other, you make it work.—

He looked at her.

—That’s what we did. We made it work.—

She smiled, blinking quickly.

—It also teaches people that “just friends” is a lie.—

—True.— He smirked.

Another card. Another silence. Another laugh. And slowly, as they went deeper, the cards stopped being a game and became confessions.

Lando’s next pull was quiet. He didn’t read it right away. Just stared at it for a second too long.

Amelie noticed. —What’s it say?—

He turned it in his hand, then met her eyes. There was something more serious there now. Something delicate.

—What’s something you’re scared to tell me?—

Her breath caught, but she nodded for him to go on.

Lando sat up slightly, propping himself on an elbow. His voice was low, almost careful.

—I’m scared that someday… you’ll outgrow me.—

Amelie’s brows drew together. —Lando.—

—I don’t mean that in a self-pitying way, I just… I know who you are. How big your world is. You’ve always had this magic, this light. And I’m afraid one day, my life, my job, the travel… it won’t be enough. Or maybe it’ll be too much. That you’ll wake up and realize you need something steadier.—

She sat up now too, cross-legged in the sand, facing him completely.

—You idiot,— she whispered, her eyes wet but fierce. —I have the steady thing. It's you.—

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off, her voice thick with emotion.

—Do you know how many people in my life I’ve had to let go of? How many I’ve loved and lost or pushed away because it was too hard to keep them close? And then you... you stubborn, patient, annoying boy, you stayed. Even when I told you not to.—

Her fingers curled into his.

—You make me feel safe. And I don’t feel safe with anyone.—

Lando let out a shaky breath. His thumb brushed over her knuckles.

—Sometimes I think about the night I first met you, you know? Online, during lockdown, when we were just being idiots playing video games. You made some dumb joke about marshmallows and I laughed so hard I choked on my water.—

She laughed now, soft and watery. —I remember that.—

—And I just knew,— he said. —Even then. I had no clue how or when or what we’d become. But I knew you were gonna matter. That you’d wreck everything I thought I knew about love.—

She leaned forward, forehead resting against his.

—We’re so screwed,— she whispered with a grin.

He laughed, brushing his nose against hers.

—In the best way.—

A breeze rolled in from the sea, ruffling their hair, sending a fresh wave of that salt-heavy air over them. The bonfire was down to embers now, casting a soft amber glow that flickered across their faces. The stars above twinkled brighter than ever.

—Okay,— Amelie whispered after a moment. —Your turn. Pull another one.—

Lando didn’t even look. He just picked one and handed it to her.

She read it slowly. Her voice went a little quieter.

—What do you imagine our life looking like in five years?—

He let out a soft exhale, thoughtful.

—I think… we live near the water. Maybe Europe, maybe Mexico. Or both. Two places. You’d have a studio with huge windows and terrible acoustics because you like the echo. And I’d still be racing, probably, but taking more time off. We'd make space for normal days. Grocery runs. Lazy mornings. Not constantly rushing between flights.—

Amelie nodded, eyes dreamy and far away.

—I think I’d want a garden,— she said. —And cats. More cats. Maybe one dog if it behaves.—

Lando laughed. —Björn would never allow it.—

—He’d try to kill the dog in its sleep, for sure.—

—What else?— Lando asked.

She looked at him, something glowing in her chest.

—Maybe… a kid. One. Just to see what we’d make together.—

That knocked the air out of him.

His face went soft, eyes wide and tender.

—You’d be the best mom.—

Amelie shrugged lightly. —You’d be the softest dad. Spoiling them rotten.—

—Obviously.—

They were quiet again for a moment, watching the stars blink above them.

Then Lando murmured, —You really think we’ll make it five years?—

She turned to him, kissed his shoulder.

—I know we will.—

He didn’t reply right away. Just tugged her close, tucking her against his chest as they lay back down, their limbs tangled and the sand cool beneath them.

—You’re it for me, you know,— he said into her hair. —You always have been.—

Amelie closed her eyes, heart full to the point of aching.

—I know. You’re it for me too.—

And above them, the stars kept shining, endlessly.

[kathlare]

Hii! I’m a huge fan of your writing and this universe I literally check your account every day for updates 🥲🩷 in terms of suggestions, I was just wondering if you could write something really cute about lanmelie kind of reflecting on how far they’ve come since 2020 and just make it like really cutesy and fluffy and adorable and in love 🥺🥺

Hii!! Ahh thank you so much 🥺🩷 it means the world that you check in every day, seriously!! I loved your idea — it’s honestly so sweet and perfect for where they are now — and I just wanted to let you know that the chapter will come out today at 6:00 PM PST! It’s full of fluff and Lanmelie love, and I hope it makes you smile. Thank you again for the suggestion and all your support 🤍✨