No One Speak To Me At This Time

Reblog if you're just really fucking in love with Edmund Pevensie

OKAY NOBODY PANIC!!!!! (IM PANICKING)

pairing: oscar piastri x fewtrell!reader, lando norris x fewtrell!reader

summary: Y/N realises a shocking truth

warnings: SMAU (no written parts), swearing, mature themes, use of y/n

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a/n: had way too much fun while writing this chapter <3 hope you like it

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YN'S SEARCH HISTORY

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TAGLIST: @harrysdimple05 @milkysoop @charlesgirl16 @wosof1 @illicitverstappen @back-on-my-bullsh @revrse @skepvids @screamingwines @a-beaverhausen @l-vroom4 @wildflowerhuggy @meglouise00 @formulaal @smithieandy @sltwins @awritingtree @colmathgames2 @org12 @alice-went-away @grovelingmen @taasgirl @anotherapollokid @d3kstar @gnarlycore @leclercdream @skeleton-elly @verstappensrealwife @seonghwaexile @hellowgoodbye @samantha-chicago @delululeclerc @5sospenguinqueen @riverxsq @s0meth1ngs @silentreader128 @cheer-bear-go-vroom @sarahsobsession @raweceekk @willowsnook @nxlx96 @saythename-sm @lesliiieeeee @landopoet @blushmimi @neferaskingdom @oikarma @mayax2o07 @obxstiles @speeedybaby

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

I never needed a season 2 so bad of a show the way I need season 2 of Julie and The Phantoms

Best binge read ever!

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 12)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 12 and final part to the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

it's the first race you attend with Lando, the first time tensions are high before the race can even start, the first time your fears turn into reality because of course, it can never be easy. or can it?

word count: 6.5k tags/warning: mention of the 2022 hungarian grand prix, a lot of anxiety, alluding to driver!injury i think thats it

The end of July brought you to Budapest for the Hungarian Grand Prix. 

It was also the first time you attended a race weekend with the intention of showing up in the paddock with a driver other than Charles. 

You spent most of Friday and Saturday in the McLaren motorhome, but now it was the race. You weren’t going to hide behind the safety of the black and orange walls. You were going to be there, in the garage, to show your support for Lando. 

But you were not prepared for how extremely out of place you would feel.

You had never spent any time in any other team’s pit except for Pierre’s one time and even then it was because you lost a bet and had to wear Alpha Tauri merch for an entire weekend. You didn’t choose to be there.

You chose to show your support for Lando this weekend. 

He wanted you there, of course, but you also wanted to be there. 

You were standing in the booth at the rear of the garage when Lando approached you from the side, hand finding your back to give you a comforting touch before he reached for his balaclava. 

There were still a few minutes before the cars had to be wheeled out to their starting positions. Lando wasn’t in any hurry to get into the cockpit, nor did he like putting himself in a position where he felt rushed or uneasy.

You, on the other hand, felt uneasy. 

That wasn’t even the right word for it. You were stressed, anxious, paranoid, on edge, literally every single thing you shouldn’t be feeling before a race. 

Lando sensed it. Maybe it was the way you didn’t lean into his touch like you normally would. Or maybe he caught the way your smile was forced on his behalf, to make it seem like you were okay. Whatever it was, Lando knew you. In a very short period of time, he knew how to recognise what you were feeling.

“Talk to me,” he said quietly, discarding the white mask on top of the booth as he rested his arms on the surface. He clasped his hands together after dragging his fingers through his hair, but his worried eyes met yours. “You’re more scared about the race than I am.”

You were careful to keep your voice down. SkySports was standing just outside the garage with a camera and for some reason those mic’s picked up absolutely everything. 

“Scared’s not the word I would use,” you spoke through a heavy inhale. You wished Lando’s loving gaze was enough to calm your nerves, but he wasn’t the only driver on the grid who had an affect on your emotions.

Lando nodded, “Feels a bit odd not standing in the Ferrari garage, yeah?”

“It just feels wrong,” you admitted. And then your hand went to cover his, eyes going wide when you realised the strength of your words, “I do want to be here, really. It’s just weird, is all. Like I should be there to talk to Charles before he puts his helmet on and tell him good luck- not saying that it’s a pre race ritual but in a way, it sort of is?” You huffed out an exasperated breath, hoping that what you were saying was making sense. “I don’t know, I’m sorry. It’s just weird that I’m at a race and I’ve said two words to Charles. Hi and bye.”

Lando turned his hands over to connect them with yours, giving your fingers a squeeze. He glanced down at his balaclava and then up at the screen where F1TV was playing. When the image changed from a close up on Lewis to one of Charles standing in the back of the garage, in a nearly identical spot to where you stood in McLaren, you both noticed the way Charles’ normally calm demeanour was replaced with one that, again, was nearly identical to yours.

“You know, I never really thought you two looked alike,” Lando muttered, but in this moment you could have been twins. 

The agitation was clear on both of your faces. Eyes glossed over with guilt and uncertainty as neither of you knew what to say to the other but both finding your lack of presence in the garage to be way too noticeable and foreign for your own good.

Lando looked at you, nodding his head in the direction of the pit lane, “You should go there.”

“I want to be here,” you told him. You were certain about that. 

“You don’t need to stay there,” Lando reminded you. He took a quick look at the screen. “There’s still a few minutes before either of us have to get in the cars. I’m sure he’d appreciate you telling him good luck.”

That thought had crossed your mind, just stopping by and returning back to McLaren. But if you did that, how would Charles take it? Would he see it as a pity pop-in? Would he think that would be your version of an apology? Even though you had absolutely nothing to apologise for. You didn’t know what would go through his head, but you could count on him somehow turning it around and blaming your quick hello as the catalyst if he were to have a poor race.

Lando sensed your hesitation and instead of trying to convince you further to go and say something to your brother, he gave you the opportunity to look at it from a different perspective. 

“You know, maybe Charles is thinking the same thing?” He told you. “It’s probably just as weird for him knowing that you’re at the race but haven’t said anything. I’m not saying you have to apologise, you shouldn’t apologise, but-” he licked his lips, eyes darting up to the screen again. “If you’re the one who’s saying he shouldn’t bring his personal problems onto the track, don’t you think you should do the same?”

That thought hadn’t crossed your mind.

A sliver of a smile teased the corner of his lips. “You can be a supportive sister and still be mad at him. Just like you can be my girlfriend and his biggest fan. You’re not trapped in a box. None of us are.”

Your eyebrows raised, “Girlfriend? Did I miss-” you pointed at him and then around the general area. “-did I miss something? Did a grand gesture happen?”

Lando rolled his eyes, leaning forward to bump his elbow against your arm before he nodded towards the pit lane once more, “Go wish your brother good luck.”

You eventually gave in and nodded. Lando took the bright orange headset that rested around your neck and placed it on the booth, making sure to brush his thumb across your cheek as he did so. You agreed, no annoying acts of PDA in the paddock, but he couldn’t help but find any reason to touch you. 

“I’ll be right back,” you assured him and you grazed your hand across his back, another small but simple gesture to show that you also couldn’t keep your hands off him, before you used the rear doors to sneak out of the McLaren garage. 

There were anxious butterflies in your stomach when you pulled on the door handle to Ferrari. The same last-minute chaos was present in the garage like usual, but it didn’t take long for you to find Charles, standing next to his car, chatting with Xavi. 

Strangely enough, when he spotted you, it felt similarly wrong to be standing in that garage. Like you didn’t belong, and you had just experienced that same dilemma in McLaren. You hated that feeling, as though you didn’t belong anywhere. 

But Charles didn’t ignore you. He didn’t turn back to you and leave you with that sinking feeling in your chest. He excused himself from Xavi and walked towards you, fiddling with the racing gloves in his hands. 

“I just wanted to say good luck,” you blurted out, like ripping off a bandaid. You said it, now you could leave. And you started to, you stepped backwards, ready to head towards McLaren again. 

Charles stopped you.

“Thank you,” he nodded, smiling a little. “You’re ah- you’re at McLaren?”

It was your turn to nod, “Yeah it’s less chaotic over there, believe it or not. Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” When the end of your sentence flowed into soft laughter, Charles joined in, rubbing his lips to possibly try and hide that he found your words humorous.

You hated this, the awkward small talk with your own brother. 

His demeanour shifted, his shoulders tensed as he inhaled a sharp breath. Whatever was on his mind, whatever he wanted to say, he had been sitting on it for a while. Maybe since you left dinner so abruptly. 

And yes, you wanted to clear the air with your brother, but now was not the time to do it. Not when he was minutes away from climbing into the car. You both learned your lesson last time. 

“I’ll see you after the race,” You told him, preventing him from opening the door to a new conversation. This was the moment when you had to separate your brother from the driver and right now, he was a driver. 

Charles nodded as someone handed him his racing helmet. You wished him good luck once more and shared a smile before you made your way back to the McLaren garage, feeling much lighter now.

Lando noticed it, he noticed the lack of tension in your features as he reached for his helmet that was left on the booth. He gave you a thumbs up from across the garage and you reciprocated it before cupping your hand around your mouth and calling out a quick ‘good luck’ to him as well.

You were certainly feeling better going into the race, but it didn’t take long for the nerves to return.

As you watched the first few laps, you suddenly remembered why you gave yourself the no dating drivers rule. You were anxious enough as it was with your, somewhat, strained relationship with Charles, but as his sister, you still hoped for his success.

And now you were watching with caution every time Lando made a move as well. Everytime he locked up into a corner, every time he went in too deep, everytime his race was at risk. 

You didn’t like the constant back and forth, wanting to keep up with what both Lando and Charles were doing at the same time, holding your breath for each of them, feeling twice the amount of stress build up to the point where you thought you needed to vomit.

It didn’t help when at lap six, there had already been a yellow flag brought out due to a minor incident involving Yuki, but now you were watching the lap 12 replay of Nyck de Vries spinning out into the barrier. At first, you thought he’d be able to reverse and get himself to the pits but when the red flags were called due to the damage to the front portion of his car and all the drivers started to return to the pits, you felt even more anxious.

There would have to be a restart. 

Turn 1 at the Hungaroring stressed you out enough. You remembered the 2021 grand prix here when nearly six cars had to retire from an accident that took place at that first corner on the first lap. You thought that the drivers were all safe this time when no big moves were made and everyone made it through that corner without any damage.

Now they had to do it all over again. Elbows were going to be up this time, the drivers’ were undoubtedly going to make some risky, or dumb, moves. 

The red flag brought all of the drivers out of their respective cars. Lando sent you a thumbs up from across the garage, but that was about all he could give you at this given time. His attention went towards the mini impromptu briefing in regards to how to go about the last three quarters of this race.

You tried to tell yourself that, as horrible as Nyck’s red flag was, maybe it was the one incident this race would have. How likely was it that something else would occur? 

The twisting knot in your stomach told you not to get your hopes up.

You were watching the broadcast for a bit, trying to pass the time and not think about what could go wrong when you felt a hand on your waist. 

“Be careful,” you said, eyes filled with worry as you turned towards Lando. 

“Be careful?” he repeated with a chuckle, “It’s just a restart, everything’s fine. Car’s fine, I’m good, I just want to race.”

But you couldn’t explain it. Deep in your gut you just knew there was room for mistakes, that something was going to go wrong on this restart. These drivers were eager to get back in their cars and keep fighting and that’s when their margin of error grew. 

“Just be careful,” you repeated, pressing your palm to the side of his face, thumb brushing over the skin of his cheek. Lando knew better than to make a joke at this moment, seeing how paranoid you were and he just nodded before he was ultimately called away. 

That horrible gut feeling only grew when the drivers got back in their cars. You watched, holding your breath as they lined up in the starting positions, ready for the safety car to take them on a formulation lap.

When they were finally back on the grid, your heart was racing. Lando was starting from seventh. Charles in fourth. The red lights lit up one by one and then they were off. 

Max got off beautifully, even you could admit that, but that was maybe the only positive thing to take away from this restart. 

George nicked the back of Carlos’ car and sent him spinning. Lewis’ reaction time was fast and he avoided the Ferrari but he couldn’t avoid Checo who had locked up ahead of him right before turn one. Somehow, in this chaos, Lando managed to swerve to the side and narrowly miss the collisions. 

The same couldn’t be said for Charles. 

There wasn’t much he could do when the unfortunate series of events caused Checo to spin and block Charles’ Ferrari, colliding into the red side pod and sending car number 16 into the air before ultimately flipping upside down onto the gravel.

You watched with that painful, sinking feeling as Charles slid into the barriers. Very reminiscent of Zhou’s crash in Silverstone the previous year, but now it was your brother who found himself in this situation. Upside down in the cockpit.

And you had no idea if he was okay. 

It wasn’t like you were wearing one of the Ferrari headsets and could listen to Xavi’s radio message, asking Charles to confirm he was okay. You were standing in the McLaren garage, hand over your mouth and had to wait like everyone else. 

This was the moment you were referring to that night in Montreal. The moment when your world stopped.

You had to grip onto the booth, feeling your legs start to weaken beneath you. You just needed to know he was okay. For the love of god why hadn’t they broadcasted anything yet? Why hadn’t they announced he was fine? Why haven’t the marshals pulled him out of the car? Why wasn’t Charles climbing out of the seat?

These were the slowest seconds of your life. 

Your lungs were failing you. Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Your eyes were glued to the screen and all you wanted was to scream for someone to tell you that he was fucking fine. 

As you watched the broadcast, a close up on your face appeared in a square on the side of the screen. You had no idea you were crying, or that there was even a camera on you until Jolyon Palmer’s fucking voice pointed it out.

“...Leclerc’s sister watches on like the rest of us from the McLaren garage- oh and it appears one of the McLarens is also in the gravel, is that Lando’s car? I believe it is, but he’s not- he avoided the collision, didn’t he-”

Alex Jacques interjected, “He’s getting out of the car! Lando Norris is sprinting across the gravel towards the Ferrari of Charles Leclerc-”

His voice became background noise as you watched the scene unfold. Lando, who got away relatively fine with very little or possibly no damage, could have continued the race but he had gotten out of his McLaren and was now bent down next to the open cockpit of Charles’ car. 

Lando lifted his head, waving the marshals over who had taken way too long to show up, in your opinion. Or maybe you just felt as though they were moving slowly because everything else was. 

You saw Lando reach in and pull the steering wheel from the car and then finally, the black glove belonging to Charles grabbed onto Lando’s hand, needing his assistance to be pulled out from behind the halo. 

There was a collective sigh of relief from the entire McLaren garage, probably from the entire paddock honestly. Even as the marshals showed up, Lando refused to step aside. Even when Charles stood up, Lando kept his hand on the Ferrari driver's back and used his other hand to point to the safety car that was pulling up. 

Charles pulled his helmet off, even though he was most definitely advised to keep it on for the time being. As the camera focused on his features, it was impossible to miss how shaken up he was from that crash. He wasn’t angry that everything out of his control caused him to retire from the race, he was scared. 

His life flashed before his eyes, you couldn’t blame him.

He said something to Lando, nodding his head slightly and the tension lines in his forehead seemed to reside, just for a moment. 

Lando patted his shoulder, happy to see that a fellow driver was walking away from this incident with minor injuries. He’d have to retire, they both would. The second that Lando made the decision to get out of the car, he forfeited his race. It was one of the rules brought on by the FIA, one that didn’t even cross his mind. 

All he cared about was making sure Charles was okay.

Lando didn’t need to join Charles in the safety car, but he did and Charles was probably thankful for it, that a familiar face would be with him as he was being transported to the medical centre. 

You ditched the orange headset and sprinted out of the garage. The medical centre was just on the other side of the garages and you were certain you looked a little insane as you ran as though you were competing in a marathon, but you didn’t care. 

There was security outside the medical centre, of course there was. The drivers needed their privacy as they were being checked over, but you didn’t expect to be denied entry. Charles was your brother. 

“Oh come on,” you scoffed, sounding a bit frantic as you gestured to the doors. “He’s my brother! I need to make sure he’s okay, that he’s-”

And then the door opened from the inside and a very dishevelled Lando, still in his drivers suit, was standing there. He had heard you, it was impossible to not hear you with the way you were making a scene. He told the guard you were fine to come in and reluctantly, he stepped aside.

As thankful as you were that Lando was there to vouch for you, your attention was solely on Charles. You didn’t take a second to thank Lando for getting out of the car, you barely even acknowledged him as you ran down the hall to the examining room.

Before you could open the door you took a peek through the small window and saw him sitting on the edge of the examining bed. He was given the chance to change out of his drivers suit and opted for a baggy Puma shirt and sweats. He sat still as the doctor checked him over, answering the questions with head nods or quiet ‘no’s’.

You told yourself you had to be patient. The last thing he or the doctor needed was you barging in. 

You leaned against the wall and forced yourself to slow down, to really process what hell just happened in such a short amount of time. Raising your hand to your cheeks, you finally wiped away the last bit of tears that had been stuck in the corner of your eyes.

“He’s okay.”

Looking down the hall you saw Lando making his way towards you. His intention was to give you a few minutes alone with Charles before joining you, but when you didn’t go inside the room and instead slumped yourself against the wall, Lando couldn’t just leave you.

Lando reached for your hand and gently tugged you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your body.

It was comforting and it was what you needed right now.

“He’s okay,” Lando repeated, hand moving to stroke your hair. “Everyone’s okay, he’s a little shaken up but he’ll be fine.”

Lando pulled back slightly and took hold of your jaw, titling your face up. He brushed his thumbs under your puffy eyes, forcing himself to smile in assurance despite knowing how traumatising this was, not just for Charles but for your entire family. 

Speaking of family, Arthur was the next Leclerc to run into the medical centre. Having been here this weekend as well for F2, he had seen it all as well. Not from the garage, he wasn’t there during the actual race, but he was still in the paddock and experienced the exact same feelings you had. 

Lando stepped aside, letting you embrace your brother, both of you taking comfort in knowing that Charles was going to be fine. 

“As-tu parlé à maman? Enzo?” Have you spoken to mom? Enzo? You asked, slowly feeling your trembling body start to settle itself. Enzo was somewhere in the paddock as well, usually he watched from the Ferrari garage but he was nowhere to be found now. 

Arthur glanced at Lando and then at you, “Enzo’s on the phone with maman. When he knew Charles was safe, he called her.”

“Good,” you nodded. Enzo was probably the best option to calm your mother down and assure her everything was fine. You were still struggling to come to your senses and Arthur seemed to be about as loss for words as you were. 

When the doctor stepped out of the room, she wasn’t at all surprised to see a whole family affair happening outside the doors. She simply told you he was all clear but needed to stay in the bed for the remainder of the afternoon just to monitor his symptoms.

All you needed was the go-ahead to see him and once you were given a thumbs up, you pushed past the doctor to tackle Charles back onto the hospital bed he was trying to sit up in. Arthur joined as well, arms going around both of your bodies as Charles patted you both, or at least tried to with his restricted movements. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Charles told you through a chuckle, “Je le promets, je vais bien.” I promise, I’m fine. 

“It was terrifying, mate,” Arthur said on your behalf when you both stepped back to give Charles some space to breathe. “Upside down across the gravel-” he shook his head, “You’re lucky, is what you are.”

Charles nodded, there was no denying how grateful he should be, being able to walk away with very minor injuries. 

“My radio disconnected, I tried letting Xavi know I was okay but nothing was going through.”

God maybe it was better you didn’t have a Ferrari headset on. If you had to listen to Xavi calling to Charles asking for a response and not getting anything back, you probably would have ran out to the track yourself. 

“Did the race start again? Who's still in?” Charles asked, of course he was concerned about the race. 

Neither you nor Arthur had an answer though.

“All I know is George somehow caused five drivers to retire, including himself,” Arthur said, and then he counted on his fingers. “You, him, Carlos, Lewis and Checo.”

“And Lando,” Charles added without missing a beat. His eyes went directly to you. You hadn’t said a word since you entered the room, but what was there to say? 

This was your biggest fear and it could have gone so much worse. You were too dumbfounded to hear that Charles was going to be walking away after this to even think about anything else.

And that included Lando. 

“Lando’s car is fine,” Arthur pointed out.

“FIA rules,” you said with a swallow. “If you get out of the car-"

"-you abandon your race," Charles finished, a sliver of guilt crossed his face. He didn’t ask for Lando to help him, nor was Lando even slightly involved. He took it upon himself to check on the Monegasque driver. 

“Is he out there?” Charles asked, glancing at the door.

Truthfully, you didn’t know if Lando had stayed. It wouldn’t have surprised you if he went back to the McLaren garage. But when you opened the door and saw him sitting out in the hall, foot tapping against the floor, you put your hand on his shoulder and encouraged him with a nod to follow you into Charles’ room.

Lando kept his hand connected with yours, or maybe you refused to release the grip you had on his fingers, but his attention went to Charles.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Lando said what everyone else had been thinking this whole time.

Charles could have nodded in response. He could have said ‘same’ or ‘thanks’ anything, really. One word would have sufficed. 

But Charles looked at Lando and asked, “Why’d you get out of your car?”

The question wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t by any means upset that Lando did what he did. It was more personal curiosity, why would another driver sacrifice his own race? Why would Lando, someone who could have continued on and had a pretty successful race following the multiple retirements, stop his car and climb out?

“I think the better question is, why didn’t anyone else?” Lando answered, squeezing your hand. “Yes, we’re drivers but at the end of the day we’re just people. If I had crashed like that and no one came to check on me, I’d question the integrity of the grid.” 

Lando looked at you and then looked between the Leclerc brothers. All of you were wondering the same thing.

Would Charles have stopped for Lando if the situation was reversed? 

You prayed they would never find themselves in that situation again, but it was a question you would all be thinking about. Charles, especially. 

Lando didn’t stop for your sake. Sure, you were most definitely on his mind when he saw the way Charles’ flipped onto the gravel, but his thought process was not ‘I need to check on him because I’m dating his sister.’ Lando, in the goodness of his own heart, knew what needed to be done. He knew how terrifying it would be for Charles to hang upside in the cockpit, alone, probably anticipating impact from another car. 

Lando didn’t care about the race. He cared about Charles. Just like he cared about you and Oscar and Carlos and every single person he ever interacted with, had even the briefest relationship with. Lando was a good guy. 

He didn’t need to prove that to anyone, but he did. 

And Charles finally saw that. He could separate the driver from his friend. He could see Lando as a rival on the track and at the end of the day, still respect him as the person you chose to go home to.

“I really am glad you’re okay,” Lando said, a smile curling up on his lips. “I should get back to McLaren though- let me know if you need anything? I’m sure we both have to fill out incident reports or some shit.”

They exchanged a laugh and Lando leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead before retreating out of the room. All of you waited until he was definitely out of earshot before Arthur was the one to break the silence, letting out the most exasperating breath ever as he gestured towards where Lando just stood.

“Are you still on your high horse or do you finally give them your blessing?” Arthur asked, earning a smile from you in response. 

Charles licked his lips, rolling his eyes in a very similar fashion to how you would, “They don’t need my blessing. They would have dated regardless.”

You nodded, agreeing with everything he had just said. Charles would not have been the one to separate you two. 

But it would certainly be nice to know he approved. It would be easier to breathe the next time you thought about inviting Lando to a family dinner. You didn’t want to have to fight with yourself when it came to choosing what garage to stand in during a race. You didn’t want there to be sides anymore.

As you stood there, waiting for Charles to say something that hinted towards him not having a problem with your relationship, it hit you that Charles was more stubborn than you gave him credit for. He would probably never give a verbal approval.

But his stare told a different story. The way he glanced at the door behind you. The realisation in his eyes when he thought about the way you leaned into Lando’s touch before he left the room. The look Charles gave you told you that he could see how happy that McLaren driver made you, that he knew there was no point in fighting it.

So he didn’t have to say anything, you knew. 

You stayed in that room for the rest of the afternoon, even though Arthur did tell you that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you went and found Lando. Charles didn’t even tense up when he suggested it. 

But you stayed seated next to Charles’ bed, Arthur on his other side as you watched the race restart for the third time. Enzo joined you not long after and he sat down next to you, nudging your side and asking where Lando was, as if it was odd that he wasn’t there.

“I’ll find him later,” you said, but later would turn out to be way after the race when you finally made it back to the hotel. 

Lando had texted you just before the race ending, asking if you were getting a ride back to the hotel with your brother. He also checked in on Charles, making sure he was still, in his words, ‘alive and nowhere closer to the drivers championship’. Charles rolled his eyes when he read that text over your shoulder.

Lando knew how important family was to you, even during the uncertain times. That’s why he wasn’t upset in the slightest that you spent the rest of the race with your brothers. He could separate you, the girl he was waiting to call his girlfriend, from the girl whose brother was a Formula 1 driver.

He knew what he was getting into when he looked at you differently all those weeks ago, he knew he’d have to share you, that this would only make all three of your lives a little more chaotic, but he still looked at you.

And god was he glad he did. 

You returned to the hotel and told Charles to call you if you needed anything before heading up the elevator to the room you and Lando were sharing for the weekend. As you looked into your purse to find your room key, something on the carpeted hotel floor caught your eye.

A white flower petal. Just one. 

And then another just a few feet ahead.

And then a dozen more that you didn’t pick them up, but you followed the wavy line of them all the way to the door to your suite, which had been propped open by a deadbolt lock preventing the door from shutting all the way.

You pushed it open only to see full daisies attached to their stems on the floor this time, also in a line that you followed down the hall and around the corner. You were starting to imagine what was waiting for you behind the bedroom door, but never in your wildest dreams would you have pictured this.

Lando standing at the edge of a bed, not in one of his own Quadrant t-shirts for a change but a form fitting black button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and just enough of his chest showing that you had to remind yourself there was more to look at. 

On top of the bed was a box of pizza, but it was flipped open and it was mouthwatering. It wasn’t some random box he picked up at a shop on the way back to the hotel, this gourmet pizza looked like it cost a pretty penny. 

On the side table were two glasses, wine glasses of course, but next to an unopened bottle of Perrier because Lando didn’t drink wine but you both had no complaints about sparkling water. 

Most importantly, in his hand was a bouquet of daisies, beautifully wrapped in brown paper. 

And it finally clicked.

“I thought I’d redo our first date,” Lando said quietly as you walked towards him.

The pizza, the flowers, the sparkling water. Everything that was in attendance that first night he came to your place, unannounced and unwelcome but somehow it ended up being the most beautiful start of these whirlwind couple of months. 

“That wasn’t a date,” you teased as Lando handed you the bouquet. 

“Agree to disagree,” same words too. 

Lando snaked his arm around your back, hand spread across the thin fabric of your shirt as he pulled you against his chest. You draped an arm over his shoulders, careful not to drop the flowers as two very similar smirks grew on both of your faces. 

Lando stopped himself from kissing you, instead letting his lips hover over yours as he quieted his voice, “Do I really have to ask?”

“Yes.”

He squinted, something he did when his smile grew. You loved the lines around his eyes, the creases in his forehead when he was undeniably happy. It meant so much more knowing you were the reason for his bright features.

Lando took a breath before your first and last name passed through his lips. His hand moved further up your back and even though you knew what was happening, your heart was still racing, in the way you wanted it to this time. 

“Will you-” he paused, rolling his eyes at how naive this all sounded, but he carried on because he knew it was what you wanted. “Will you, please, be my girlfriend?”

Your eyebrows twitched, “Oh, you’re begging?”

Lando turned his head, “Okay, you know what, I take it back-”

Before he could finish the rest of that sentence you cupped the side of his face and pulled his lips to yours. Lando’s grip on your back pulled you tighter against his body as the daisies slipped from your hand and onto the edge of the bed. 

“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend,” you muttered against his lips, kissing him quickly once more. 

Lando was blushing at your response, but his grin shifted into yet another smirk. One with an ulterior motive, one that had you slightly cautious.

“Would now be a bad time to tell you I only checked on Charles because I knew it would move me up your driver ranking?”

You pulled back and stared up at him, jaw slack as he held his hand over his stomach and laughed at his own words.

“I’m kidding!” He assured you, blurting that out before you could really question his motives. “I promise, I’m kidding. I really did want to make sure he was okay."

“Well now I don’t believe you,” you scoffed, but you only said it to get under his skin in response. 

You could tell when Lando was being honest and you could tell when he was simply making a joke. Granted, maybe now was not an ideal time to make a joke, but him being able to make you smile, even a little bit, after witnessing something as traumatic as Charles’ crash, was what you needed. 

Lando being there to support you, to be the shoulder you needed, to be someone who only had your well being, and apparently your brothers’ wellbeing, in mind, was all you ever needed. 

“I don’t think you’ll ever surpass my own brother on the ranking,” you admitted with a sly grin as he twisted a strand of your hair around your finger, tilting your face upwards again as he listened to your final ranking. There was some truth to it. Charles would always be up there, but there were never any rules against ties. “But you can share the number on spot with him.”

Lando licked his lips, “What about number one in your heart?”

Your head dipped forehead against his chest as you laughed at his words, more specifically how quick he was to get them out, like he was waiting for a reason to use that line.

“That was so cheesy,” you said, still laughing. “Like, horribly cheesy. I-should-walk-out-of-this-room kind of cheesy.”

And you pretended to, taking a step towards the door, careful of the daisies at your feet. But Lando didn’t let you go anywhere. His grip on your hand tightened and he pulled you back to him, where you both knew you belonged.

“You loved it,” he teased, his smile only growing at your eye roll. 

“I did,” you admitted quietly with a reluctant sight. “I loved it.” You took a breath, looking at the set up he had created in your absence. “I love this, I love-” and then your eyes darted up to meet his again. 

Lando Norris. The driver turned friend turned something more. In such a short period of time, he became one of the most important people in your life. His teasing, his jokes, his stupid driver ranking plan. 

He was someone, that from day one, you should have known you were going to fall in love with. Since the day he decided to make it his mission to move up your list of favourite drivers.

But it was okay that you weren’t there yet, that you looked up at him and choked on that endearing phrase, shutting your mouth instead. Saying those three words took time, trust, effort. This was still so new.

Besides, after working his way up from sixth to, a tied, first, Lando needed a new mission now anyway. 

And getting you to fall in love with him seemed like the perfect one.

-----

six months later

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, ynleclerc and 576,102 others

tagged: ynleclerc

landnorris happy 6 months to the girl who once said i was her sixth favourite driver

view all 16, 530 comments

ynleclerc i love u

charles_leclerc don't get too cocky mate you can easily drop back down the ranking

carlossainz55 remember when i was her second favourite?

pierregasly why is this the first i'm hearing about a driver ranking

ynleclerc because you were booted to last place landonorris just like the driver standings pierregasly 🖕🏼🖕🏼

danielricciardo i approve of this relationship

the end :')

thank u everyone for the support while this intended 6 part series turned in 12 parts ♡ i hope u all fell a little bit in love w lando norris bc i sure did - also make sure to check out my other work here (ps i cant wait to start a new fic hehe)

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1@masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1@scarlettisconfused@sbgal@e-lisa-bettan@harrysdimple05@ophcelia@alesainz@fandomxs1@majx00@sbgal@mehrmonga@themockingjayreader@f1mockingjay@topguncultleader@lclrnelliluvs@moonxblossom@dr3lover@andrewgarfields-girlfriend@tsarinablogs@noescapricho-essentimiento@f1mockingjay@xqueenslytherinxif i missed someone im so sorry

Sweet Pea: Well aren’t you sugar and spice and everything nice.

Jughead: Well aren’t you rudeness and sarcasm and… um…

Sweet Pea: No, you go on. If you find something that rhymes with sarcasm and makes sense, I’ll admit that we’re friends.

RDJ and Cevans: *flirting in peace*

Ruffalo: HEY REMEMBER WHEN YOUR SON-

THE LAST ONE

have y’all seen pics of cosplayers being arrested because

it is simultaneously

the best and worst thing

I have ever

fuckIN G seEN

likE WHAT DID THEY DO

TO GET ARRESTED???

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE TELL ME

pleasE I NEED CONTEXT

Son: “Dad? What sound do ducks make?”

Tom: “They croissant.”

The way this whole series is stored in my heart

Mr. Boyfriend

: Part 6 (Max's Version)

: Everything’s gonna be fine. I mean, how hard can it be to fake a relationship, anyway?

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The Professor |Chapter 11| A Jake Seresin AU

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part warnings: age gap (reader is 21, Jake is 35), power imbalance, mentions of blackmail, mentions of raw sex, SMUT, angsty angst, Jake still can't understand how to feel things, slow burn, enemies to lovers. word count: 7k (ISSA LONG ONE I SORRY)

You were sweating in the airport as you stood next to Jake waiting for your luggage to come around. You had decided to spend Thanksgiving with Jake and his family in Texas. It was between that, going home to Aunt Sally’s or sitting alone and eating Kraft Mac’N’Cheese from the box. Also, Olivia Seresin had messaged you on Facebook asking for Vegan dishes to make, and you couldn’t possibly turn down the invite from that. 

“Oh, there,” You said, pointing to the cheetah print suitcases that Lucy let you borrow. Jake nodded and grabbed your bags. You were slightly embarrassed of your luggage compared to the sleek, gray metal of Jake’s suitcases. 

“You ready?” Jake asked, and you looked up at him. If you were being honest, you wanted to run to the ticket counter and find the next flight back to Boston. You had been trying to keep your nerves at bay the whole flight, but Jake could see right through it, “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” You shook your head and went to grab your main bag, but Jake stood in front of you, “Are you sure your family is okay with this? I mean, two out of four-” 

“I could give a fuck less what Nancy and Liz think about you. My mom loves you, and that’s all that really matters to me,” Jake said. He cupped your face gently, “It’ll be okay. I’m not going to let them be mean to you like the last time. Alright,” You nodded and Jake kissed your lips, “Now come on, my parents are waiting.” 

You gulped and grabbed your suitcase, and followed Jake out of the airport. It was easy to spot Jake’s mom, her red hair was teased to the heavens. She was wearing all black, but the white heeled cowboy boots on her feet stuck out. Olivia smiled brightly and nudged the man beside her, who could only be George Seresin, Jake’s father. You sucked in a breath as Olivia ran up to you and hugged you tightly. 

“So glad to see you again!” She said and kissed your cheek before moving to greet Jake. You saw the awkward hand shake between Jake and his dad. Jake hardly ever talked about his dad but from that interaction alone, you could tell the relationship was strained. 

“Dad, this is Y/N,” Jake said, introducing the two of you. He put his arm around you, which gave you some confidence as you held your hand out for George to shake. 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Seresin,” You smiled and George shook your hand. 

“Jake, help your father put the bags in the car,” Olivia smiled sweetly, “Sit up front too. I want to run some possible recipes by Y/N to make sure she can eat them.” 

“Oh, Mrs. Seresin, I told you that you don’t-” 

“Nonsense,” George said, which made you stiffen up, “She’s been bugging me for weeks about trying a healthier way, and now she gets a test run.” You smiled and Jake looked down at you. He kissed your cheek before grabbing your suitcase from your hand to put in the back of the shiny Cadillac SUV. 

You weren’t sure where Jake got his cold personality from, because Olivia talked your ear off the whole ride back to the Seresin house. Well, more like a mansion. You were in awe as George rolled up to a gated lot, punching in the passcode and the black gate rolled back. You assumed him being a politician meant that they needed some more security. The house was everything that you imagined, a large white house with a terracotta roof, windows from floor to ceiling. There were four other cars parked in the driveway, which you assumed to belong to the Seresin sisters. The house wasn’t too far away from the old downtown, which you made a note to have Jake take you down there to visit some of the little mom-and-pop shops. 

“Everyone is already here?” Jake asked, stepping out of the front seat. He opened your car door, and offered you his hand to take. You weren’t sure if it was the dry Texan air or the fact that his parents were in the vicinity, but Jake was laying on the gentleman-ness extra thick. 

“Liz, Nancy and their families came in this morning,” Olivia said, “Don’t know why they insist on staying here for Thanksgiving, but here they are.” You tried to bite back a laugh but it was useless. Olivia gave you a wink as she looped her arm through yours, “Now, I want to double check that you are okay with eating eggs. Cause I can find a substitute for them.” 

The house on the inside was even more stunning than on the outside. Your eyes looked up at the grand staircase, and at the tall ceilings. A beautiful chandelier hung down that filled the foyer with tiny rainbows from the sun hitting it. There was a welcoming scent of spiced apples and vanilla. You could hear the laughter of children and the call of their names from their parents. 

Your heart filled with a certain grief at the sight of the house, it was a house that your mother dreamed of. You could remember your mother clipping out pictures of houses from magazines and telling you that one day, they would be able to afford one of the big fancy houses in a better community for you. But as much as you loved the Seresins’ house, you wouldn’t trade the house that you grew up in for the world. 

“Sweetheart,” Olivia said, snapping you out of your memories. 

“Huh? Oh sorry,” You shook your head and Olivia gave you a sad smile, “I can eat eggs. It’s no problem.” 

“Holidays aren’t fun, are they?” You shook your head and looked down at your shoes, “Jake used to bring Bradley home, before he patched something over with his uncle. I know that look, it’s the look of missing the people you love. Tell me, what’s a tradition they used to do.” 

You thought back to the last holiday season you spent with your parents. You were probably thirteen, and your father was determined to host Thanksgiving at your house. It had been an utter disaster, which ended with you guys ordering chinese food and watching football. But one thing always remained the same, and that was getting to open one very early Christmas gift to kick start the Christmas season. You told Olivia that and her face lit up with a smile. 

“Not boring her to death are you?” Jake’s voice cut through the living room. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. 

“No, just sharing Holiday traditions,” You said looking up at him. 

Jake had a look in his eye, and you couldn’t quite explain it, but it looked mischievous, “We’re gonna go take a quick nap. We’ve been up early and flying all day.” You looked at him quizzical. You both had slept on the plane, and you weren’t feeling the slightest bit tired. 

“Oh of course,” Olivia said, “Your room has been cleaned, and you should have fresh towels in your bathroom and extra sheets in your closet.” 

“Thanks momma,” Jake kissed his mom’s cheek before grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the stairs. 

“Be down for dinner at 6! Semi-formal!” 

“Yeah, got it!” Jake yelled down as you tried to suppress your giggles. As soon as you were out of eyesight of his mother, Jake grabbed your body and threw it over his shoulder. 

“Jacob!” You scolded. He pushed the door to what you assumed was his childhood bedroom. Jake placed you down softly on the bed, and wasted no time climbing on top of you and kissing you. You sighed into the kiss, as his hands roamed your body, and hiked one of your legs over his hip. Your hands roamed his broad chest before pushing him back slightly. 

“I thought you wanted a nap,” You smirked. 

“I do, but not before I do this,” He leaned back in and kissed your neck. 

“Mhm,” You pushed him back again, “Not going to happen, Mister.” 

“Oh come on!” Jake pouted, “Please. Just a quickie, let me eat you out, something,” It sent a tingle down your spine at how desperate Jake sounded when you shook your head. 

“Not with your nieces and nephews running around. Maybe later,” You kissed him, “I want to take a shower though,” You went to get out of bed, but Jake’s strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back down. 

“Nap first, shower later,” Jake said, letting out a breath and holding you close to him. You knew that it was useless to fight against him, so you relaxed into his hold and ran your hands through his hair. 

You were not entirely sure why a dinner at one’s own house required a dress code, but you weren’t about to ask. Your peaceful nap with Jake had been interrupted by three red-hair Seresin grandkids. Not that you minded, you always loved kids and Jake’s nieces and nephew were the most adorable little beings you had laid eyes on. It was strange for you to watch Jake interact with them with such kindness and gentleness. You had grown used to his angry and snappy attitude towards college students. You wondered if he treated his students the way he treated his nieces and nephews how much better his professor rating would be. 

Jake had laid out clothes for you to wear, something that would get the approval of not only his mother but his sisters as well. He wasn’t worried about you getting along with his father, no one got along with the man, not even his brother-in-laws who like to think that they do. George Seresin didn’t care for anyone else but himself. He was a selfish politician, but a good one. He knew how to sweet talk to the home crowd to secure their vote. Jake saw right through the act every single time. 

“Shh,” Jake had his hand over your mouth as he repeatedly thrusted into you, “There’s little ones nearby.” 

“Jake, shut up,” You groaned, not wanting to be reminded. He chuckled into your neck. You tilted your head back to lean against the shower wall. Jake’s strength once again amazed you as he held you in his arms, fucking you against the shower wall, “Fuck, Jake, please I’m close.” 

“Yeah? You’re close, baby? I can feel you clenching around me,” His hand snaked its way in between your wet bodies and began drawing circles on your clit. You leaned your head on his shoulder and bit down on the skin to stop you from screaming out as the beautiful, white hot pleasure rolled through your body, “Fuck, that’s it, that’s a good girl. Cumming all over my cock.” 

“You fuck me so well,” You cried out. You lifted your head and grabbed Jake’s face with your hands, “Cum in me.” You said looking into his green eyes. Jake groaned as he felt himself release deep in you, hot spurts coating your walls. You moaned at the feeling and kissed Jake’s lips. 

“You think you can stand when I put you down?” Jake asked. Your legs had been securely wrapped around his waist for the better part of twenty minutes. 

“Probably not,” You smiled. Jake chuckled and kissed you quickly. He gently untangled your legs from his waist but kept his arm around you. He grabbed the washcloth from the shower handle and gently ran in between your legs, cleaning up the mixed cum from the both of you. You sighed in content as Jake placed a soft kiss on your lower back. 

“So pretty,” Jake said, “Especially this,” You squealed as he bit the tattoo that was on your ass. The thin line tattoo that read ‘playboy club’  had been a dare from your first spring break as a 21 year old. Lucy and Zeke had a matching one with you, “Such a naughty little thing.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.” 

“Oh sweetheart, I-” 

“JACOB!” The crash of the door had you jumping, as Jake rolled his eyes. He gently pushed you against the wall, hiding your naked body with his own. 

“What, Amelia?” Jake sneered. 

“Dad says hurry up, you’re going to raise the water bill,” His sister said, “But I can go tell him that you’re actually saving water.” You bit your lip to try and hide your embarrassment but it was no use as you flushed bright red, “But still, hurry up. James and Mark think they know how to properly cut tri-tip and I don’t want them to fuck it up.” 

“Got it. Can you leave now?” Jake said and looked over his shoulder. Amelia gave her brother a thumbs up before leaving the bathroom. He could hear her talking to what he assumed was to his other sister Kathy saying ‘they are totally boning right now’. Jake sighed and looked down at you, “Well that’s Amelia.” 

About half an hour later, you and Jake walked down the grand staircase, hand in hand. He had put on a pair of black dress pants, a button up shirt with a tie and a sweater. The dress that you wore was simple, and you paired it with an oversized plain sweatshirt. The jewelry that you were wearing was actually a gift from Mrs. Seresin and was laying on the bed when you got out of the shower. Even though you were dressed up, you still felt a tad out of place from his sisters. Nancy and Liz glared at you as you walked into the kitchen, while Amelia gave you a bright smile. Kathlene was somewhere else in the house taking care of her three month old baby. 

“Oh Y/N, don’t you look beautiful!” Olivia said as she came over and greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, “Mhm, I knew sapphire was your color. Did Jake tell you that I own a boutique downtown?” 

“No, he did not,” You said and looked at him, “I told him earlier that I want to go visit downtown, I saw a couple shops that caught my eye.” 

“Perfect! You can join me and the girls tomorrow while the boys do some ranch work,” Olivia smiled, “Jake, go help Mark and James. Your father is busy working on starting the smoker for thanksgiving.” Jake nodded and gave you a quick pat on the shoulder before walking over to his two brothers-in-law. Olivia led you over to where the Seresin girls were sitting at, “Do you want something to drink?” 

“Uh, water is fine,” You answered. 

“Water?” Nancy asked, “You’re not pregnant are you?” 

“No!” You said almost too quickly, “I mean, no, I’m not, I just don’t like drinking wine this late. I get headaches and the spins.” 

“Me too!” Amelia said, “We didn’t get the chance to meet properly before, I’m Amelia, the youngest sister, the better sister, the favorite child.” You could see Nancy and Liz roll their eyes out of your peripheral vision, “Jake has told us a lot about you. You’re studying English?” 

Amelia had quickly become your favorite Seresin. She was nice and actually had a conversation with you instead of talking at you or making snide comments the whole time. Maybe it was because the age gap between the two of you was only about six years, so she knew a lot of what you were going through as a fourth year in college. Amelia was also the most interesting sister by far. She had just gotten back from spending six months in Africa at a research center. You could see Nancy rolling her eyes at the way Amelia lit up at the questions you asked.

Jake sat next to you at the dinner table, and Amelia on the other side of you. Nancy, Liz and their husbands sat across from you, and you could feel the stares of the older Seresin girls on you the whole time. The dining room was relatively quiet, save for the gentle conversation that was flowing. Kathlene, her husband and all the kids were sitting in the kitchen, behind the closed door.

Olivia had a strict no children at the dining table rule. Your mother would’ve hated that rule. She didn’t like when your grandmother or aunts tried to push the children into another room. She thought it was mean, and always made sure to make enough plates at the dining room table for the kids to be there. That was one of the things you missed the most about your mother. She had a way of making everyone feel at home. 

Jake must’ve sensed a shift in your emotions as he placed a hand on your thigh. You looked over at him and he smiled. He grabbed your free hand and held it in his. 

“So, Jacob,” Nancy said, setting her wine glass down, “Little birdy tells me that Natasha was in Boston last week.” 

Jake shifted in his seat, “She was. She was there for a conference.” 

“Did she stay at your house?” 

You knew what Nancy was trying to do. She was trying to get under your skin, trying to get you to crack, but you weren’t going to get that satisfaction. You had no idea who this Natasha woman was, or if she stayed at Jake’s house or not. It made you somewhat jealous that he might’ve had another woman over but you brushed it off, as you reached for your own glass. 

“She did stay,” You answered, and Jake snapped his eyes towards you, “She’s rather nice, I kind of like her. And she can make the best. . . oh what was that dish she made? Oh yes! Vegetarian Risotto with red wine. To die for.” 

Nancy clenched her jaw as she set her wine glass down and went back to picking at the food on her plate. Jake couldn’t help the smirk that arose on his face and squeezed your hand. Olivia looked like she was beaming with pride at the way you handled her daughter’s attitude. You smiled to yourself and went back to eating the food on your plate. 

The sun felt great as you sat in the backyard of the Seresin Ranch. It was peaceful, there was a gentle breeze and you could hear the lowing of cattle in the distance. The house was empty, save for the couple of maids that were around tidying up the place for yet another family dinner. Thanksgiving was still a day away and you were already tired of eating family dinners. You just wanted to order a good ol’ vegan pizza and watched reruns of Yellowstone in your pajamas. You had decided to stay back from today’s shopping adventure to work on your end of the semester thesis. Also, today was the day that first rounds of grad school applications were supposed to be reviewed. 

Your whole life you had been working for this moment. The dream that you and your mother once shared, and now you carry on in memory of her. You weren’t sure what you were going to do if you didn’t get into Doctor Hoffman’s program. There was never really a back-up plan in your mind. You knew that Boston had a good grad program, but it wasn’t renowned like Doctor Hoffman’s at USC was. 

The air conditioning felt nice as Jake walked into the house followed by his father and brothers-in-law. He spotted you out in the middle of the backyard. Your hair was golden and shining in the sunlight. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and drank down half of it in one gulp. He forgot how demanding ranch work could be. George wanted to move most of the cattle from one pasture into the next to keep them close for the winter months. It had been a while since Jake had rode horseback and his thighs ached as he walked. 

“What is that girl doing?” Mark, Nancy’s husband, asked, “Sitting out there like a stone.” 

“It’s a nice day,” Jake shrugged. 

“She’s got some fire in her,” James said, “Liz was telling me all about it.” 

“You could say that,” Jake said, and put his water down, “I’m going to check on her.” 

The men nodded and started talking about the price of cattle as Jake walked out into the backyard. Your eyes never left your computer as he sat quietly beside you. The two of you sat in silence for a while, listening to the world around you. It was peaceful, and Jake liked it. He felt like he hadn’t really gotten a moment alone with you since you got here. Yes the two of you had your own room and bathroom, but it still didn’t feel the same like this. 

Jake moved his body so that you were sitting in between his legs and he was leaning up against the tree. He hummed as he ran his fingers through your hair. He loved your hair, it was always so soft and smelled like pears. His hands worked to make a half-assed braid, pulling the strands away from your face. You told him once how much you hated the hair in your face. You couldn’t quite make out the song that Jake was humming, but it reminded you of a tune that your dad used to play. 

“I got in,” You said softly. 

Jake paused, “What?” 

You looked over your shoulder and then back at your laptop, “I got in. To Doctor Hoffman’s program. . . I’ve been accepted.” 

“No shit,” Jake asked and leaned forward to look at your screen, “Dear Miss L/N, we at the University of Southern California think that you would be an exceptional addition to the graduate program for English majors under the direction and leadership of Doctor Megan R Hoffman. Holy shit! You got in!” 

“I got in!” 

Jake all but tackled you to the ground, his arms wrapping around you as he hugged you tightly. You giggled as he rolled you on top of him, his smile bright as he looked up at you. He gently ran his hands over your hair and brought you down for a kiss. It was soft and tender. It reminded you of the kisses you used to see your parents exchange. There was no rush, no need to quickly remove each other's clothing. The kiss felt different, and it was different. You pulled back and rested your hands on his chest as you pulled yourself up to straddle him. Jake’s green eyes looked up at you, full of adoration and pride. 

“My smart girl,” Jake said, his large hands engulfing yours sitting on his chest, “I always believed you could do it.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully, “It’s true. You’re so smart, Y/N. I knew that you had the potential, that fire in you to make it into the program. I just had to bring it out in you.” 

“By being a dickwad?” 

“Okay, well,” Jake said and you giggled. You placed another soft kiss on his lips, “I am so fucking proud of you. Come on,” He gently rolled you onto the ground, and stood up. He gave you his hand and he pulled you up to your feet, “We gotta go celebrate.” 

“Jake, really it's- PUT ME DOWN!” You squealed as Jake threw you over his shoulder. He made sure that your dress was pulled down as he walked into the house. You giggled as he carried you into the house. 

“Jacob, what on earth are you doing?!” You flushed as Olivia’s voice called out to you. You lifted your head up and saw that she had a smile on her face. Jake walked over to the fridge and looked for something. 

“Where’s that bottle of. . . got it!” Jake said, grabbing a bottle of champagne, “We’ll be at the Cub house,” You wiggled in his grip and Jake set you down on the ground. He wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you in close, “Y/N got into grad school today.” 

You watched as the eyes of the Seresin family lit up at Jake’s announcement. Olivia was the first one to you, pulling you into a tight hug. You melted into her touch. You loved Jake’s hugs, but being hugged by his mother was something different. It made your heart hurt, as Olivia pulled away and kissed your cheek. George even shook your hand and gave you a quiet ‘congrats, darlin’ before Amelia swooped in and hugged you. Even Jake’s nieces and nephews came running to you giving you a hug, just wanting to be included in the celebration. 

“Oh sweetheart, that is such wonderful news! I bet your parents are smiling down on you,” Olivia said. You gave her a tight lipped smile and Jake could tell there was a shift in your mood, “Oh! I’ll make a cake. How does carrot cake sound? I made Jake a carrot cake when he got into Doctor Hoffman’s program as well.” 

“Carrot Cake is fine, Mom. Save it for tomorrow,” Jake said. 

“Let the boy go, Liv,” George said and placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder, “Boy wants to go on to the Cub house for the night.” Jake gave his father a nod and George passed him the keys, “Not a scratch. Got it.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Be back in the morning. Chores before Turkey,” George said, “Now, go on.” 

Jake smiled at you and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the house and towards George’s shiny white truck sitting in the driveway. You giggled as you tried to keep up with his strides. He opened the door and helped you inside, buckling you up. 

“Do I need clothes?” You asked and Jake shook his head. 

“We’ll be back early,” Jake said and handed you the bottle, “I just want to be able to fuck you how I want and not worry about my sisters kids hearing you.” Jake kissed you and shut the door, jogging around to the drivers side. His words sent a tingle between your thighs as you clenched your thighs. 

The ride to the Cub house wasn’t very long, but it was beautiful. The sun was starting to set a bit as Jake drove down an old dirt road. The Cub house was a log cabin that was tucked back on the Seresin ranch, probably five or so miles away from the main house. Jake was right, it was quiet and away from the little ears that were roaming the main house. Jake parked in the driveway and got out quickly running to your side. He didn’t even let your feet hit the ground as he carried your bridal style to the cabin. 

“Laying it on thick today, aren’t you,” You said and Jake grunted. 

The inside of the cabin was beautiful, and you could tell that it was well maintained. There was a certain warmth about it as you looked at the tall fireplace and at the family pictures on the mantle. Jake set you down on the ground, and you took a couple steps forward, looking around at the house. Your eyes danced over the pictures of the fireplace. You could point out the faces of the Seresin siblings, most of them being during christmas. One picture in particular caught your eye, one of Jake and that familiar stunning woman but this time they were posed on the steps of a church, her in a beautiful white dress. 

“Sweetheart,” Jake called out to you. You turned and he handed you a glass of champagne, “Thought I told them to toss this,” He grabbed the picture from the mantle and flipped it down. 

“She’s beautiful,” You said and sipped the bubbly drink.  

“Yeah, but looks are deceiving. Her heart is ugly,” Jake said and looked down at the glass in his hand, “I don’t want to talk about her. I brought you up here because I want to celebrate with you. . . properly.” 

“Oh really?” You smirked and Jake nodded. He grabbed your glass out of your hand and set it on the mantle. You wanted to protest but you watched as he took a sip of his and then grabbed your throat. You kept eye contact as you opened your mouth and  he spit the liquid in your mouth. 

“Close,” He demanded, “Swallow.” You looked at him and swallowed the drink. Jake groaned and crashed his lips to yours. He tapped at your thighs, signaling for you to jump. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he carefully lowered you to the floor on the white soft rug. His lips went to your neck as his hands roamed your thighs, pushing your skirt up your legs. The straps of your dress fell down  your shoulders, exposing your collarbones. Jake’s tongue swiped across them, his hands coming to pull the top of it down. 

“God, you’re perfect,” His hands easily cupped your breasts, and squeezed them. You moaned out at the feeling as his tongue circled one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth. 

“On the floor, Jake?” You asked, your voice sounding airy. 

“Darlin, I’m gonna fuck you on every single surface in this house,” Jake said and moved his mouth to your other breast. His hand moved in between your legs, gently rubbing at the wet spot already formed between your legs, “So wet for me always. You’re always ready to take my cock aren’t you.” 

“Yes, sir,” You moaned as he rubbed you through your panties, “Touch me, Jake,” You pulled on his hair, making him look up at you, “Fuck me, do something please.” 

“Oh darlin,” Jake cooed, “I’m gonna do more than just fuck you. I’m gonna make love to you.” 

You sucked in a breath as Jake helped you stand up from the ground. He fixed your dress before grabbing the two champagne glasses and bottle, walking you down towards the main bedroom. You stood awkwardly in the doorway as Jake set the glasses down and turned on the lamp, illuminating the room with a soft glow. He looked over at you and smiled, taking your hand and leading you towards the bed. He sat down, and you stood in between his legs. Jake gently lifted your chin and kissed you passionately. You sighed into the kiss, your hands resting on his shoulders. 

You grabbed Jake’s hands, making him stand again and taking a couple steps away from the bed. Your eyes locked on his green ones as you grabbed the bottom of your dress and lifted it up. Jake got the hint, kicking off his shoes and then shedding his shirt. Your dress hit the ground as Jake undid his belt. You stood before him, bare save for your underwear. Jake’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at you. Everytime he looked at you like this it was like the first time all over again. 

Jake reached out for your hand, which you let him take, and walked you to the bed. The two of you laid down next to each other, face to face. Jake gently ran a finger down your body, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin. You felt like you were under a microscope as Jake looked down at your body. You wanted to hide, but at the same time, you liked being on display like this for Jake. 

“You are everything,” Jake said softly, “Smart, beautiful, kind. You are perfect,” Jake shifted his body so he was on top of you, “Truly, perfect.”  

You didn’t want the night to end. It was beyond amazing. Every touch, every kiss, every word that was said was going to be in your memory forever. In between sessions of love making, you and Jake shared stories of your childhoods, the happy times that you both could remember. And true to his word, Jake fucked you on nearly every surface in that cabin. 

Currently, you were helping Olivia set the table for Thanksgiving Dinner. You had spent nearly all morning and into the afternoon working in the kitchen with Olivia and Amelia. Kathelene kept you all company as she tended to her baby. Nancy and Liz were off doing whatever it is that they do, which was probably partaking in small town gossip. The men spent the morning doing chores and cooking the turkeys and duck for dinner. Olivia assured you that there would be something for you to eat that wasn’t straight from an animal. 

“Alright,” Olivia smiled at her perfectly dressed table, “You go get cleaned up, honey. I brought you a little something from the boutique, I think you’d like it.” 

“Thank you, Olivia,” You said, and headed upstairs. 

Olivia sighed in content and then walked down the hall towards George’s office. She knelt down underneath his desk, and punched in the code of the safe and got out a velvet black box that had been sitting there for years. Her next task was to call in her only son to talk to him. Jake was always attentive to his mother, and showed face quickly in George’s office. 

“You called me?” Jake asked. He was already dressed for dinner. Choosing a pair of gray dress pants and a pullover sweater. 

“Yes, sit, sweetheart,” Olivia said, patting the spot on the couch next to her, “You look nice, blue suits you.” 

“Y/N picked it out,” Jake said. 

“She’s got great taste,” Olivia smiled, “You know, I never really ever liked Allison.” 

“Gee, thanks for telling me now, Mom,” Jake rolled his eyes playfully, “Why are you telling me this?” 

“I’m telling you this because you need to hear it. You have a good girl Jake. I can see, your father can see it, and even Nancy, who will argue and fight about it, sees it too,” Jake looked at his mother, “Do not mess this one up, Jacob,” Olivia placed the box in between them. Jake felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of the box, “You have been hurt before by love, and sometimes we aren’t lucky to get another chance. But by God, Jake, this is your chance. I haven’t seen this happy, lovestruck look on your face since you were seventeen and bringing Allison home for the first time. Hell, Jake, you even look younger. And I bet your heart feels lighter too.” 

“It does, Momma,” Jake nodded, “But Y/N. . . she’s not ready for this. She’s too young. She’s got a life to live-” 

“Then you keep this,” Olivia placed the box in his hand, “You keep this until you know for sure. But I know in my heart. . . that you know she’s the one.” 

Jake was unusually quiet as you sat next to him at the very full dining room table. Both George and Olivia’s parents were there along with several other cousins, aunts and uncles. The drinks were flowing and so was the conversation. You were in a conversation with Jake’s grandmother, Bethany, talking about the history of the Seresin ranch. Grandma Bethany was a sweet woman, and liked to hold your hand while you talked. 

Jake felt like the room was suffocating. There were too many people, too many voices. The ring box that was sitting in his suitcase upstairs suddenly felt like it was going to catch the whole house on fire. Jake hadn’t really had a chance to digest the conversation he had with his mother until now, as he was sitting at the table surrounded by what could be his future. So he proposed to you, and then what. He would have to leave Boston College to follow you to USC. It was not guaranteed that he would find a job, and he could remember how hard it was to stay afloat on a grad student salary. He lived with four other people in a run-down house that surely had asbestos in the walls. 

After marriage, came kids. He looked as his three nephews came running into the room followed by his cousins. He had heard Kathlene and her husband Peter up late at night dealing with their newborn. Jake wasn’t sure if he could handle that. He was too scared of turning into the cold hearted man who sat at the head of the table. Jake couldn’t sit at the table any longer, he felt like he was going to choke and die on his own necktie. 

“Excuse me,” Jake said and pushed up from the table, throwing his napkin on his plate. You looked up at Jake as he made a dash for the front door. 

“I’ll go check on him,” You said and gently excused yourself from the table. 

Jake was half way down the driveway when you got outside. The night air had cooled off, and you wrapped your arms around your waist as you ran after him. Jake heard you calling his name but he didn’t stop as he kept walking towards the gate, towards freedom. He needed to get away from it all. 

“Hey!” You finally caught up to him, and grabbed his arm, “Would you-” 

“What the hell do you want!” Jake yelled, turning around to face you. You took a step back at his brash tone. 

“Are you okay? You just got up and left.” 

“I know what I did,” Jake sneered, “And no, I’m not okay. I left to get away from you.” Jake continued on walking down the driveway, with you hot on his heels. 

“Me? What did I do?” 

“Oh what haven’t you done,” Jake rolled his eyes. 

“What is going on, Jake? Talk to me. You have been off all-” 

“You’re not my fucking girlfriend, I don’t have to tell you what’s going on.” Jake stopped and faced you. His words were like a knife to your chest. Part of you knew that deep down, you weren’t more than just another girl to Jake, but hearing him say it outloud, hurt more than it should. You sniffled and turned your head away from him, “God! This is why I don’t do relationships! You are insufferable right now! I left to get air, to get away from you. What else do you want to fucking know?!” Jake started walking again. 

“I want to know why you keep doing this?”  You yelled after him. Jake stopped, “Why are you so scared to allow yourself to feel? Why are you scared to tell me what’s wrong? Why are you so scared to love me?” The last sentence you spoke was barely above a whisper, but Jake still heard it. And it still made his heart clench. 

“Cause I don’t,” Jake lies right through his teeth.

“You’re lying.” 

“I’m not,” Jake shook his head. 

“Then look me in the eye and say it,” Y/N steps forward, standing toe to toe, “Tell me that you don’t love me.” 

Jake looks her in the eye, “I don’t love you, Y/N.” You clenched your jaw, not backing down from Jake, “I’m leaving. I don’t want to see your face for the rest of the night.” 

You watched as Jake’s frame retreated down the driveway and to the gate. You wiped the tears from your eyes and looked around, seeing if anyone heard what happened. Amelia was standing up by the house, with a sad expression on her face as you returned. She didn’t need to tell you, but she had heard everything, it was the look on her face that gave it away. 

“I’ll tell them you aren’t feeling well and Jake is with you,” Amelia said and you nodded, “He doesn’t know how to let good things happen to him.” She gave you a gentle squeeze on your arm and you went upstairs to the bedroom you shared with Jake. 

It was well past late when Jake found his way home, smelling like the floor of a bar, but he was stone cold sober. He couldn’t bring himself to drink knowing the harsh words that he had said to you. None of it was true, not one single bit. Jake was in love with you. He was madly, deeply, stupidly in love with you. And it terrified him. He had never felt this love before. He wasn’t even really sure what to do with it. It amazed him how his heart could love one person so much like this. 

He stumbled up the stairs to his bedroom, pushing it open. He expected to see the outline of your body under the blankets. The scene that he had played out in his head was that he would come home, apologize, and tell you that he loves you. Instead, he was met with a perfectly made bed and a note laying on it. Jake quickly moved to the bed and picked up the note. 

‘Got an early flight home. Called a cab, don’t worry. Sorry I ruined your night- Y/N 

P.S check the desk’ 

Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked over at the desk. A gift box, wrapped in beautiful white paper with a gold bow sat on top. Jake walked over to it and lifted the top of the box. He hung his head with guilt as he looked at the gift on the inside. Jake had only mentioned it once, that his Shakespear collection was missing one book. And somehow you managed to get him a first edition copy of Romeo and Juilet. Jake gently picked up the book, and held it against his chest.

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