Summary: It’s 1925 in the Little Lady Blinderverse.
Characters: Clara Shelby x Isiah Jesus, Finn Shelby pops in for a moment.
Prompt: Almost caught
Content Warnings: Just vibes and a little kissing.
Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️
Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist
Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist
Clara watched the long hand of her brother's old pocket watch as it moved around the clock face, the quiet ticks and tocks seeming to mock her as they seemed to slow and delay in her mind.
After what had seemed like an eternity squashed into a mere morning and early afternoon, she was basically caught up on the books. Or at least, if she wasn't precisely caught up, Clara wasn't feeling particularly motivated to keep working on them. Not that she'd been doing anything that could really be considered ‘work’ for the last hour and a half.
Shoving the pocketwatch away, she glanced at Isiah. He was across the room in Finn’s office, twirling a pencil in his fingers. Clara wasn't sure what he was meant to be ‘working’ on in her brother's office, but she assumed pencil twirling wasn't it.
It had been a slow afternoon. No one had been keen on laying bets or working, so the shop had emptied early. Everyone had finished up their day's work and gone home.
In this heat, Clara didn't blame them. Despite the mound of work she had to complete for her brother, she didn't want to be here either.
She had already shed her sweater. Clara couldn't respectably lose any more layers or she'd be left in just her slip, but she longed for it. She longed for a breeze or dip in one of the ponds on the grounds of Arrow House. She longed for a chunk of ice from the ice box in the kitchen. She longed for the end of this Friday afternoon, the end to this stale, sticky existence.
Clara pushed herself back from the desk—Tommy's desk, though he never used it anymore. The chair was more hers than his these days. Tommy had once said it could be Clara’s one day—the boss's chair—but even though it was her who sat in it more than him, Clara wasn't the boss. Today, she felt no better than any other working person staring at the clock and waiting for the end of their shift. It seemed that was all she’d done all day.
She'd have to come back and finish what she hadn’t accomplished before the end of the month—over the weekend or early before she was due at the Jamaica Row office on Monday morning. It wasn't smart putting it off, but Clara didn't care. The heat had zapped any sense of caring from her system, leeching all of the diligent conscientiousness she was known for straight out of her.
"What are the odds we get caught out if we lock up early?”
Isiah's foot fell off the desk and slammed against the floor, Clara's sudden presence in the room startling him more than it should have considering a wall of windows lined the office and he’d faced that way, his glossy gaze set out toward the empty shop she crossed over on her way to get to him.
"Christ, Clara—Trying to stop my fucking heart, eh?"
Clara sighed, rolling her eyes at Isiah’s dramatics out of nothing more than habit. The whole bit was familiar. He usually would have wrapped her head in an arm, ruffling her hair as retribution, but today he barely moved, barely even allowed the muscles of his mouth to pull into a smirk.
Clara was glad for it because if Isiah laid a hand on her, Clara thought she might scream. The idea of him coming anywhere near her in this heat, of his warm hand in her already frizzy hair…she felt warmer just thinking about it.
"The only thing I'm trying to do is stop working."
"You're finished?”
Clara shrugged. She didn't have it in her to lie, but she didn’t quite want to admit she’d been doing close to nothing all day either. "Are you?'
"I've been done for hours."
"What are you sitting in here for, then?"
She could see that she wasn't the only warm one. Isiah had rolled his shirt sleeves. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She couldn't imagine why he'd choose to sit here when he could be anywhere else.
Isiah raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"
"Fucking hell. You’re babysitting. Tommy's such a—"
“Finn," Isiah interrupted.
"What?"
"It was Finn’s idea. Said 'I've got a meeting across town. Keep an eye on her.’ Not Tom."
Clara hummed, filing that annoying development away to complain about later. For today it was an order from Finn’s mouth, but before Finn, it had been John, and before that, she knew the order had originated with Tommy and Arthur. Tommy, who Isiah no routinely called 'Tom' and defended, as if they were friends. On the same side of things. Clara let the thought go, too hot for the annoyance that came with thinking too hard on her brothers.
"Where'd Finn go, anyway?'
"Meeting across town," Isiah answered, repeating the words with a smirk.
Clara breathed deeply, stifling the urge to hit him. She could imagine herself doing it, the satisfaction of her open palm—all clammy and swollen with the heavy moisture of the air—smacking against Isiah’s stupid, sweaty forehead.
“I just said.” Isiah added, stupid grin still on his face. “The heat getting to you, there, Miss Shelby?”
It was hotter in Finn's office than it was in Tommy's. There were no windows to the outside here, no airflow. Clara pulled at her dress, the fabric sticking to her collarbone as she tried to catch some relief.
“I meant who’s he with?”
Isiah shrugged. “Afraid that's above my pay grade. Can’t be asking after the boss’s whereabouts now, can I, love?”
Clara rolled her eyes. Finn wasn’t any sort of boss, not really, even if he was acting like it lately. And the amount of things that fell above Isiah's pay grade had dwindled over the last few years. She was nearly certain Isiah knew exactly who Finn was meeting with and what it was about, but she let it go, figuring that if it was important or relevant to her, he'd have just told her. The fact that he was playing with her told her it wasn't either of those things.
“Fine. Tell me, love, does the 'boss' have anything good in that drawer there?” Clara nodded toward the desk and Isiah shook his head, chuckling.
“What are you shaking your head for? What’s he going to do?” she asked. “Fire us for borrowing his whiskey and skiving off?”
“Tom—”
“I don’t care what Tommy or Arthur or John or Finn has said. It’s hot and there’s no reason for us to be cooped up here. I’ll take my chances with the lot of them.” Clara reached down, pulling out the bottle of whiskey. She opened it and took a slug before she handed the bottle to Isiah. After he drank, Clara held a hand out to him.
He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the hand they both knew was clammy and damp with sweat. Clara ran her hand down the side of her dress before presenting it again.
Isiah rolled his eyes as he slipped his hand into hers and Clara groaned, dropping his slicked hand in an instant. Isiah smirked as he ran his hand down the side of her skirts same as Clara had just done. No other man would’ve dared to slide his hand down Clara Shelby’s side like that, but this was Isiah and they were alone in the shop—no prying eyes to watch over them for a change.
“You’re insufferable.”
Isiah chuckled. “You’ve said so plenty enough.”
“Because it’s true.”
“Well, between you and me, it’s mutual.”
Clara yanked his hand then, pulling him out of the chair and to his feet. Isiah stumbled for her benefit.
“You’re testy today.”
“I’m hot,” Clara answered, walking towards the staircase. She tugged Isiah along up the first few steps, her arm straining as Isiah stopped on the third step from the bottom.
“And we’re going to the second floor to cool off?”
Clara took a deep breath before stopping and turning back to Isiah.
“We’re all locked up?”
Isiah nodded. He'd gone around to check all of the doors after Finn headed out. “Have been for hours.”
“Good, now shut up and do what you're told.”
Isiah snorted. “Yes, ma’am.”
Clara smirked at that. At least someone respected her. Even if it was just Isiah, and even if he was only playing, the telltale smile tugging at his lips, a bit of glee right there dancing in his eyes. Because even with those things present, Clara knew some part of it was genuine. Isiah respected her more than most people in her life. Believed in her more than most, too. And he had always offered up a bit of his power in the context of their relationship, allowing her to win on most things.
Not every single thing, but most.
Enough of the time that Clara knew when he was doing it.
As they moved up the stairs, the heat wrapped around them like a blanket. Someone had shut all of the windows, the air up there even more stale than it had been down in the shop.
Clara had a moment of doubt while the stifling heat grew, smothering them both and challenging Clara's breathing. Sweat collected on her back and chest under her clothes. She cursed in her head that maybe Isiah was right. Maybe there was no relief to be found on this Friday afternoon, not unless she wanted to give in and head out to her brother's house.
But Clara didn’t want to. If she did, Tommy would have questions about the books and whether or not she’d caught up yet. She didn’t have it in her to try to lie to him. If she was being honest, she didn’t have it in her for much of anything except simply being.
Walking the stairs of her childhood home with Isiah’s hand growing sweaty in hers, Clara was reminded of simpler days. Of times when she’d been just allowed to be. Even then, she’d been an anxious child. Overwhelmed and feeling like she was pulled in a million different ways, but looking back on it now, Clara was nostalgic for a certain freedom inherent to childhood. A certain freedom that came with not fully understanding the actions and motivations of the adults surrounding her.
She had always sought to understand, had always wanted to be a part of things, and now that she was—now that she and Isiah both were thoroughly integrated parts of the things they’d once begged to be included in—Clara would give anything for the two of them to go back to before.
To be reading together from a book, or pretending to be Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson. To be just two kids in their own little bubble, just the two of them against the world. It was a lovely thought, accompanied by a lovely feeling of nostalgia and as they stepped onto the second floor—just the two of them there within the walls of number 6 Watery Lane—Clara thought maybe it could still be the case.
The times were less frequent these days, but there were still moments when Clara would catch Isiah's gaze across the room, the two of them immediately caught up in some secret conversation that no one else even knew was taking place.
And sometimes, the two of them would dance, and as Isiah spun Clara around, she could’ve sworn there was no one else in the world. On those occasions, it was as if the music played of its own accord, no one needed to pull the strings or croon the melodies, the two of them feeling anonymous and alone even though they were surrounded by other couples.
“Come on, Siah,” Clara said as she tugged Isiah’s hand, some part of her certain that she could reach out and grasp that feeling, as if it was something she could trap and hold onto, keeping it close to her heart.
Isiah smiled at Clara’s impatience, his body so near to hers that he could feel the heat radiating off her back, a warmth separate from that of the air around them, almost pulsing between them.
Clara dropped his hand as she stepped into her bedroom, still neat and tidy and kept as if the 12-year-old girl she once was still lived there. As she moved toward the window, Clara pressed the whiskey bottle into Isiah’s hand, not bothering to look back to confirm it was within his grasp before she let go.
Isiah leaned against her dresser, watching as she struggled with the window, the wooden frame stiff and swollen and thoroughly stuck from the heat and years of disuse.
As he watched, Isiah wondered...when was the last time Clara Shelby had climbed out through her bedroom window? When was the last time Isiah Jesus had climbed out with her?
Neither of them could remember, and it seemed like the room had forgotten as well, the window remaining belligerently shut even as Clara dug in her heels and leveraged all of her strength in trying to raise the pane, a new layer of sweat gleaming at her hairline as she struggled.
“Alright,” Isiah started as he eased off the dresser, the whiskey bottle set aside. “Let me—”
“No!” Clara answered, her voice booming with the strength of her struggle as she kicked a leg out in Isiah’s general direction to keep him back. “I’ll get it. You choose a book.”
Clara sent her foot out again, this time directing it toward the other side of the room, and Isiah turned to follow the direction of her kick, straight to the chair beside her bed where a stack of books sat piled dangerously high.
The pile was a mix of old and new, a selection of books from her childhood and few of her more recent favorites interspersed with a few of the books Isiah remembered as coming from Tommy’s shelf. Those books had once been forbidden to Clara, but Isiah supposed they were far beyond forbidden books at this stage. And Tommy Shelby had far bigger concerns than what types of books his sister was reading.
Isiah fished a book out of the pile before returning his attention to Clara. He was about to sit down on her bed to watch the show of her struggle when the window flew open, the sudden movement accompanied by a rush of air and a celebratory shout from Clara.
“I told you I would get it,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow as she turned to him.
Isiah rolled his eyes fondly and crossed the room to grab the whiskey, a swallowed comment on the tip of his tongue because even though Isiah and Clara usually passed quips back and forth, he was more interested in getting out on the roof, more interested in the reprieve of fresh air. Isiah pressed the book and bottle into Clara's hands before swinging himself out through the window.
Isiah was through in a small span of seconds, but it was certainly a more difficult maneuver than he remembered now that his body was all long limbs and the window seemed infinitely smaller than it once was.
Reaching back through the frame, he took the book and the bottle Clara handed off. Isiah set them both aside before holding his hand out back through the open window.
“I can—”
“Just let me help, won’t you?” Isiah interrupted. He wiped his hand down the front of his pants before holding it out again. “Gotta fight me about everything.”
“I’m not—” Clara grasped his hand, allowing Isiah to tug her through, and letting go once she was steady on her feet. “—fighting. I just—”
“Can do it yourself,” Isiah answered. “I know. Doesn’t mean you should always have to.”
Clara huffed even though a part of her appreciated the sentiment. She tried to be independent. She tried to do everything for herself. She tried to prove how smart and strong and capable she was to just about everyone, but she didn’t have to prove any of that to Isiah.
Clara unbuttoned the top of her dress, gently fanning herself with the loose fabric as she looked over the courtyard. She took a deep breath, grateful for the grey and cloudy Birmingham skies that shielded them from the heady rays of sun she usually craved.
The roof outside of her bedroom wasn’t exactly the reprieve she had imagined, but it was marginally better than the dense staleness of the shop and her bedroom.
“Romeo and Juliet?” Clara asked as she lowered herself to the roof and reached for the book. “Really, Isiah?”
While Clara enjoyed her Shakespeare, the play hadn’t exactly been her favorite, and her memories of the piece were tainted by the fact that she’d first read it at school, with Juliet’s role going to a girl she wasn’t particularly fond of. Clara would’ve preferred to revisit Sherlock Holmes or one of Tommy’s old books.
Isiah shrugged and sat down beside her, reaching for the bottle. “Reminded me of when you tried stepping out with that Italian kid.”
He said it as if he didn’t remember the name of the ‘Italian kid.' As if it had been nothing but a blip. As if her social connections hadn’t gotten her into nothing but trouble that year and been the source of arguments between her and her family, and her and Isiah.
Clara shoved Isiah’s shoulder.
“I wasn’t stepping out with anyone.”
It had been a friendship. Maybe with a hint of a crush, but there had been no stepping out. Nothing close. Her brothers' reputation had seen to that.
“And anyway, it’s more like when you were stepping out with that Cheapie girl.”
Isiah raised an eyebrow. “What are you on about?”
“Ruth,” Clara answered. “Practically Wally Bartow in a dress.”
He snorted. “It was one dance, Clara. Didn’t even know her name. Had no clue she was a Bartow.”
Clara shrugged. “You looked awfully cozy if I remember properly.”
“Well, that’s just how I dance, love.” Isiah winked at her before taking a swig from the bottle. “You know that better than anyone.
“And I'm sorry to inform you, but if either of us is destined to have a love life like these two—” Isiah nodded towards the book. “—it’s you. No matter who you end up with, it’ll be like Montagues and Capulets. Shelbys against whatever poor sap you choose.”
Isiah knocked her shoulder, the touch telling her it was only a joke. Clara stayed leaning against him as long as she could manage in the heat before prying the bottle from his fingers to take a sip.
“Ada says us Shelby girls are cursed that way.”
Isiah reached for the book, thumbing through the pages rather than answering. He had an idea about that particular curse. He had been old enough to remember how Ada’s marriage had been handled, and even if he hadn’t been, Isiah knew how Clara was being managed.
How they both had been managed for years now.
Isiah reached out for the bottle, taking another swig before he started reading.
“Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene…”
They passed a few hours reading and talking and sipping from the bottle, the pair moving on to gentle conversation interspersed with quotes from Shakespeare’s catalog once the pages became too difficult to read in the dimming light. Lost in the throes of conversation, easy laughter and the cooling night breeze, Isiah and Clara were suspended in what felt like a world that was just their own, their sense of time and place and awareness pushed aside.
Clara was giggling at some obscure quote Isiah had pulled seemingly out of nowhere when Isiah sensed suddenly that the world was no longer theirs alone, his attention gone to the far end of the shared courtyard, a familiar chorus of boisterous laughter reaching his ear from across the space.
Isiah was faintly aware of Clara naming the play he’d quoted before she shared her next quote, a gentle laughter lacing her words as she spoke, but the awareness of his heart pounding against his chest was stronger, a sudden urge to quiet her—to shield their presence there on the roof—taking over.
Overcome with that urge, Isiah could’ve shushed her or set his hand over her mouth to stifle the words.
Or he could've taken a breath and calmed himself and simply let her finish.
It wasn't as if they were doing anything wrong. There was no reason to hide.
Isiah could have let Clara tell him, ‘I do desire we may be better strangers,’ before dissolving into giggles. He could’ve then told her the quote was from ‘As You Like It,’ a quote which he was intimately familiar with because Clara had directed it at him and Finn a number of times before, sometimes in jest, sometimes because she wished to hurt them.
No one would question Isiah and Clara being out on the roof with a book and a bottle of whiskey, least of all Finn. People were plenty used to their antics, but something felt different tonight so Isiah only let Clara get half a sentence out before he placed his hand at the back of her head, drawing her in close and pressing his lips to hers in the dark, catching her words and quieting her so efficiently that it was nearly silent on the roof as Finn and the junior Peaky Boys passed over the back threshold of no. 6.
The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but Isiah felt Clara’s whole body relax within his touch. She leaned into the hand he cradled behind her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss he hadn’t intended on giving in the first place, her hands reaching out for him, her fingernails grazing his scalp in a way that sent shivers down his spine.
Isiah pulled away, but even so, for a moment, he forgot where he was. He forgot why he’d kissed her, or at least he’d forgotten whatever justification he’d initially provided himself for pressing his lips to hers. He forgot about Finn and the boys. He forgot about Shakespeare and feuds and consequences. With his warm hand still on the back of Clara’s sweaty neck, barely able to see the details of her now flushed face, it was once again just the two of them there in the world.
With their faces still so close that Clara could feel Isiah’s warm whiskey-tinged breath on her face, her eyes shifted to his lips. She couldn’t remember what they were talking about before. She didn’t know why he’d kissed her. She had heard the back door slam, some part of her aware of her twin's proximity, an awareness Aunt Polly had always tol her was part of her gifts, but as Clara pulled Isiah's lips back to hers, she found she didn’t care to remember there was more to the world than the two of them and this.
She didn’t want to question it, and yet, Clara was first to pull away this time, her ears far more sensitive to the familiar sound of someone turning the handle of her childhood bedroom’s door than Isiah was. With a sudden swiftness, she removed herself from Isiah’s hold and pushed him back against the roof as she extended her hand up to the sky.
“There you are,” Finn said, sticking his head out the open window to see what Clara was pointing at. "What are the two of you out here for?"
Clara tilted her head back to her brother. “Constellations and Shakespeare. Would you like to join us?” she asked, the words feeling odd to her as they passed through her swollen lips.
“No,” Finn snorted. “It's payday. We’re heading to the Garrison, and then maybe to a few other—”
“No, thank you. I'm staying here,” Clara answered, even though it wasn’t exactly an invite Finn had extended, but more of a declaration. An order.
A flash of something passed over Finn’s face. Clara could barely see it in the dark, but she figured it was a bit of annoyance, maybe, or a touch of shock at being refused. It seemed like more and more, Finn was coming to expect the same sort of compliance from Clara that the others did, forgetting that it was mere minutes that separated their births rather than years.
“It’s too hot, Finn,” Clara added, her tone a bit softer. “I have no desire to be holed up in the snug, squashed between you lot.”
“Alright, then. Isiah?” Finn tried.
“She’s got a point, mate.”
Clara heard someone shouting from the floor below, the details muffled by the shut door, but Finn seemed to recognize their meaning well enough.
"Are you sure?" Clara sensed the question was for Isiah even though they could barely see each other's faces in the growing dark. "Drinks are on Shelby Company Ltd. tonight," Finn added, as if Isiah's drinks weren't usually on the house, anyway.
"It's alright. You go ahead with the boys," Isiah offered. "I'll keep an eye on Clara."
Clara's elbow twitched, the desire to ram it into Isiah's ribcage surging as she caught the hint of a smirk on Isiah's face, but Clara stopped herself knowing that it had been the right thing to say.
Finn nodded his understanding in the dark, his attention pulled to the stairs once again by a sudden noise.
"Don't fall asleep out there, Clara."
Clara heaved a breath to stop herself from telling him he had no business telling her where she could or couldn't fall asleep, but Isiah beat her to it, telling Finn he would handle it.
No matter that Finn would likely be the one who needed assistance finding his bed before the night was through...
"Have a good night," Finn said as he stepped away from the window, leaving Isiah and Clara alone. They leaned back against the roof, the two of them staring at the sky in silence as they listened to the sounds of Finn and the boys heading out through the back door, their shouting and laughter echoing as they traversed the shared courtyard.
When the echoes died away, Clara stretched out her fingers, seeking the familiar roughness of Isiah’s palm.
“That was bad,” Isiah said, his fingers closing around hers. “Close...we almost got caught.”
Clara heaved a breath before turning to face him. “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”
Isiah snorted. He glanced briefly to his right to meet Clara's gaze in the dark before tipping his head back to the sky.
"Hamlet," Isiah answered softly, squeezing her hand gently before releasing her fingers.
They had been through this time and time again, the two of them dancing around the label of what they were. Friends. Best friends. Something more. They had settled on friends as far as most of the world was concerned, but that didn’t mean the lines weren’t still blurry at times, their belligerent feelings tangled and confused and persistent. For years now, they had maintained a mostly unspoken agreement that they’d keep anything beyond friendship hidden—from themselves, from one another, from everyone else.
Most especially from everyone else.
They'd learned early on that it wasn't worth the strife. It wasn't worth the fight. Any resistance had been squashed down time and again. Somehow, this felt easier. Less painful.
If it was up to the two of them, perhaps things would be different. Perhaps they’d have tried at love and failed, and moved on by now. Or perhaps they would have tried and it would have been easy. Smooth.
Perhaps there would be no confusion or jealousy or hiding. No dismissing their closeness as nothing more than echo of a childhood friendship, no stinging comments on who the other had stepped out with—the slights used both as a weapon and a protection to guard their tender hearts.
But as it was, Clara and Isiah had never been given a proper chance at something more. A boundary had been set for them at the outset, a series of orders they’d both been too young to fight at the time. They’d been at the mercy of the powers that be, and even though they were older now, they were still at the mercy of that power.
Or maybe they still danced around the boundary because it felt easier, somehow safer for them both to keep that prescribed distance between them.
“Perhaps I am destined for tragedy, Isiah.” Clara mused. “Or simply to be alone. Unloved for eternity.”
“You’re not alone, love.” Isiah reached for the hand he’d dropped only moments before. “I’m right here.”
“And you know I love you," he added as Clara curled toward him, resting her head against his chest.
Clara sighed and nodded.
“I love you, too,” she added, and Isiah’s chest fell with the breath he’d been holding.
“Can we not just pretend that’s enough?” Clara asked. “Just for tonight?”
They were dangerous questions and Clara asked them without turning to observe Isiah’s face. She could feel the tenseness of his body beneath her, the fear her questions provoked.
“Like it’s just us in the world and no one else?” she tried, a question and a wish because the house was empty and the roof was dark and it was unlikely they’d be caught.
Isiah feared that a little, but more than he feared getting caught—for they’d successfully explained away so much over the years and he had no doubt they could manage it again—Isiah feared the two of them getting caught up in things. He feared getting caught up in the true feelings between them, the ones they’d so carefully worked to keep a hold on all of these years, a carefully manicured relationship that allowed them to be close, but not so close that they fell over the edge.
For even though Isiah dated other girls, and even though Clara insisted that Isiah Jesus was just a friend, they both knew there was something more between them. A magnetic pull, something in their hearts that they both knew to be true love.
In the moments when the two of them could be honest with each other, when the rest of the world fell away...on nights like tonight, it wasn’t especially unusual for their lips to meet. It wasn’t unusual for Clara’s hopelessly romantic naïveté to make a showing. For some part of her to feel that it could be easy. That it could work.
And it wasn’t unusual for Isiah to agree. For every part of him to want the very thing they spent the bulk of their days denying and shutting down.
They were both craving it now though, both barely able to remember why they ever did hold back. It was just the two of them there on the roof beneath a blanket of smog-covered stars, both of them still hazy around the edges due to the whiskey and the heat and the memory of their kiss, the memory of his hands on the back of her neck.
Those things made it easy to hope. They made it easy to forget.
Because if they were surrounded by friends at the Garrison or out at Arrow House or under the watchful eye of a Blinder, Clara and Isiah wouldn’t even entertain the thought that they could be more than friends. Under those circumstances, they’d be easily convinced that regardless of the feelings between them, it was much too complicated, much too difficult.
“Maybe we should just run away. Find a place in the world where there are stars in the sky and no Shelbys.”
Isiah snorted. “Not even you?”
“Well, just me,” Clara amended. “Just me and you and no one else we've ever met. It could be easy.”
“Maybe,” Isiah hummed, his hand tilting Clara’s face up to his as he spoke. “but the course of true love never did run smooth, Clara Shelby”
“A Midsummer Night’s—” Clara started, only for the rest of the play’s title to be caught up by Isiah’s lips.
They both knew it wasn’t a good idea, dabbling in love when neither was ready to commit to the war it would be. Neither was quite ready for the consequences of them moving beyond friendship, moving against her family’s wishes and decrees, but they let it happen anyway, some piece of their hearts holding on to the hope that someday they wouldn’t be hiding on a rooftop, stealing hungry kisses in the dark.
@hb-writes Oh, my!! Your portrayal of a charming, Shakespeare quoting lover boy has made me weak in the knees 😵💫 I'm not sure I would be able to keep my crush on Isaiah hidden half as well as Clara. However, I commend her fortitude bc a secret romance away from the prying eyes of her brothers would be ideal. Loved this beautifully written fic so much 💕 Ty for sharing it!
These two have a major history—Clara and Isiah have been friends since they were kids, but when feelings started to shift, her brothers put an end to it, so as Clara and Isiah go through their teen/ early adult years, there's a lot of hidden/ squashed down feelings and dancing around the true nature of their relationship until they are both ready at the same time to take the next step and stand up for themselves.
One of my favorite headcanons for Isiah is that he's super smart and loves to read (Clara and Isiah have been reading forbidden books together since they were kids), but he keeps that to himself for the most part and lets people underestimate him because it gives an advantage.
Could you do one where Lando has food poisoning or is sick in general and reader fusses and takes care of him that weekend?
Thank you!🩵
of course dearest, thanks! 🧡 really short, I’m so sorry, I’ll probably do one way longer in a few !!
BLANKETS AND TEA
a Lando Norris fluff scenario
scenario: see request :)
warning: Lando being whiny
pai’s words: it’s my birthday in 4 DAYS !!!!! and I’m truly excited even tho I’m STILL sick so this is a little piece of self comfort 🧡
“-Drink it.
-It smells disgusting, I am not putting this near my mouth.
-It’s medicine !
-Well I am not sick.”
They huff and cross their arms in front of them, fixing their boyfriend with a disappointed stare to which he responds by imitating them. He is sick, whether he wants to admit it or not. He’s been waking them up with his coughs all night long and his voice is now replaced by a low rasp, his body temperature much higher than what’s normal. It’s his fault really, they’ve told him that hanging out in the near-beginning of December in only a shortsleeved shirt was a bad idea and he laughed at the idea of getting a cold, turns out they were right, obviously.
“-Lando please just drink it, your voice is getting worse by the minute.
-You don’t find the raspy voice sexy ?”
The Brit winks exaggeratedly at his lover and breaks out in a poor imitation of his giggles, sending him in yet another coughing fit. He points to the medicine bottle in his partner’s hand in the middle of it, finally giving his pride up and admitting that he is, indeed, a little under the weather. He makes a show of gagging at the smell and insisting (more like whining) that they spoon feed him the syrup, almost to the point of begging them for the airplane thing you usually do with children.
It’s a weekend off and he’s glad for it as it gives him the opportunity to cuddle all day in front of the television. Or well, that would be the case if only he wasn’t fidgety 24/7 and absolutely bored out of his mind.
“-Baby, go back to the couch please, you need to rest!
-No.”
He grumpily makes his way to his partner and hooks his chin on their shoulder, hugging them from behind as they’re lovingly cooking something for him, making sure he gets all the vitamins needed. It’s been like this for hours now, him making round trips between the living room, the bathroom and the kitchen while they’re locked up in there, making every remedies known to mankind in hope it’s going to be miraculously healing him in a few hours. He chuckles as they grumble something under their breath, something about how stubborn he is and how he should be grateful to have them. He is, really. For this and for everything else, he’s grateful the universe allowed him to meet you and even more grateful it allows you two to be together. He nuzzles his face deeper in the crook of their neck, whining about how he’s bored and only wants to love on them.
He stays like this for the rest of the day, having bribed them with his best puppy eyes so he could stay with them in the kitchen, watching as they make him a lemon tea with honey and love. Tea, he’s not fussy about drinking. He enjoys feeling it glide down his throat and coat his soreness with warmth, enjoys the sweet taste it leaves despite the bitterness of the lemon.
And when it’s time for them to go to bed (with a lot of coaxing for Lando), he’s glad to have the warmth of another body next to his, the calming hands stroking his back when he gets caught in a coughing fit, the soothing murmurs lulling him back to sleep, finally getting the rest he needs. He’s grateful towards the universe, tonight more than ever.
lando talking about reader in an interview/podcast?
Trying so hard to do my dissertation and it's not happening rn 🥲
Keep on sending em in!
Lando was smitten. In love. Obsessed. He'd been in love before, but never like this.
She was his everything. Lando had her on his home screen, he had one of her favourite rings on a chain around his neck. He had a bracelet made by her around his wrist, too, letting the world know just who he belonged to.
And Lando tried to get Y/N to come to every single grand prix. It wasn't easy, especially with her studies, but, when she could, she did.
Lando showed her off to the whole paddock. He loved his girlfriend so fucking much, always had his arm around her as they walked towards the McLaren garage.
It wasn't uncommon for the cameras to catch Y/N stealing Landos McLaren cap and placing it on her head. It was so fucking cute.
Whenever the fans didn't see Y/N at the grand prix, there was always speculations. Always Lando was asked about Y/N while he was doing interviews, but always he answered with the truth. She was studying, she had her own life.
On the weekend Lando got his first win, Y/N just so happened not to be there. That was just his luck, huh? He gets the win, but no Y/N there to kiss him.
"Lando, how are you feeling after your first win in Formula One?" Jenson Button asked him as the rest of the cars pulled into Parc Fermé.
Lando placed his hand on his head as he looked at Jenson on the cameras. "Oh my god, Man," he shouted as the crowd cheered. '"This is the most incredible feeling and now I can retire happy!" He said and laughed.
Jenson kept going with the interview. "The car was good and the pace was clearly good. This wasn't just a win for me, but it was a win for McLaren, for the entire team and everyone back at the factory."
"Do you think we'll be seeing any more McLaren wins this season?"
Lando took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah, well, my girlfriend couldn't be here for this race so I'll have to get another when she's here to celebrate.," he said, but a part of him knew Y/N was at home, jumping around in front of the television.
And that was exactly right. Y/N had a few over to study and everything, but the moment the race started, she and her friends dropped everything to watch it.
There were shouts of 'come on Lando!' and Y/N was anxiously chewing her nail as Lando got closer and closer to the race leader.
And then Lando crossed the finish line in first. The screams that came from that apartment were monumental - her neighbours must have thought someone died.
Y/N had champagne in her fridge. She grabbed it and popped the top, spraying it all over her friends as they cheered. (This was something she would later regret, after seeing the mess of the sofa, the carpet and the walls).
And then they watched Lando being interviewed by Jenson Button. The moment he mentioned Y/N, her friends began screaming yet again.
That day, Y/N decided she wasn't going to miss another race, if she could help it (of course, studying came first, but any weekend she could, she was going to be with Lando).
anon request: I’ve read all of your fics and I love them all! Can you please write a dean x sister fic where she is a literal toddler?Like dean and her are just playing and he unknowingly says something that he doesn’t expect a toddler to get affected by? that makes her sad and she just runs and stays with sam. And eventually dean confronts her and talks to her? Maybe he could have said that they weren’t buddies anymore (playfully of course) but the toddler sister takes it to heart?Thanks! Have a nice day byeeeew
Word Count: 716
Dean’s age- 19
Sam’s age- 15
y/n’s age- 5
A/N: a little au setting where the winchesters grow up with a little sis on the road :3 also hello! I know it’s been a while, I have a few requests to work on and I feel bad I haven’t gotten to them yet but ya know, life lately. Hope everyone is doing well! :)
“Deeean, Deeeaann!” y/n’s little voice echoed through out the room.
“Hey, sweetheart, what’s goin on?”
“Can you play horsies wifth me?” y/n asked sweetly as she held up her toys.
Dean sighed “Yeah, c’mon let’s go ahead.” He sat down.
Having a toddler in the Winchester’s life wasn’t always easy. Sam and Dean wouldn’t trade their little sister for the world, but to have John always in and out during the weeks and leaving y/n in the care of her brothers wasn’t fair to them.
“Okay, you can be this brown horsie wifth white spots.” y/n held out her plastic toy horse in Dean’s face.
“Wow, this one has really soft hair!” Dean said with a little over excitement.
“She does, the farmers brush her haiwr every day.” y/n smiled. “Okay, let’s go wriding now.”
“Giddy up horsey!” Dean said as he controlled the toy horse next to y/n’s
“Dee, no. I have the faster horse, you can’t go in front of me.” y/n put her hand in front of the toys. She always liked to have some sort of order to her playtime, a sense of control which she probably got from Dean.
“Well I’m older, so my horse is gonna be a little bit faster.” Dean sighed.
“Nuh uh! I have the black horse, like daddy’s car and it’s way faster.” y/n argued.
“I guess we can’t be friends anymore if you think you’re gonna beat me in this race kiddo.” Dean joked.
Y/n paused and looked at Dean with serious puppy eyes. “You said we’ll always be fwiends.”
“I don’t think that’s the case anymore.” Dean shrugged.
y/n dropped her horse and stood up with tears forming in her eyes. Dean looked up and saw that y/n took him seriously. “N-n-no, y/n/n….”
She walked away to look for Sam who wasn’t anywhere in the motel room, which meant he was outside doing homework on the picnic table as he normally would if it was a nice day.
y/n wasn’t tall enough to look out the window, instead she reached up and turned the doorknob with both hands and spotted Sam outside. Dean was quick to watch her movements as he didn’t want to let her out of his sights. He watched as she ran to Sam who spotted her troubled face.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sam hunched over to her level, looking like she was about to start crying.
“Dee s-said I’m not his fwiend anymore.” she said through staggered breaths, looking up to Sam.
He lifted her up onto his lap and glanced towards their motel room to see Dean standing in the doorway with a frown.
“What do you mean? Dean will always be your friend.” Sam reassured as he fixed the hair that was in her face.
“Does that mean you’re not my fwiend…” y/n hiccuped.
“No, no. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” Sam sighed. It was these moments that he tried to be the best brother he could, he and Dean both. It wasn’t fair to y/n to have to rely on both brothers like parents.
They each had their own lives to focus on but they knew their situation was different because of unfortunate circumstances. So they did their best to be there for their little sister.
Dean walked over to a grumpy looking y/n. “Sweetheart, I was just joking. You know we’re best buds, right?”
“You’re not vewy funny.”
Sam gave a snarky look to his brother, who shot back at him with an eye roll.
“You’re right on that one, I’m not very funny…. But, I’m sorry kiddo, can I have a hug?” Dean pleaded.
“Do you pwomise? You’re my fwiend forever?”
“I promise y/n/n.”
y/n held out her pinky. “I pinky promise too.” Dean smiled. “Now how bout you get back in there, you have a race to win!”
y/n giggled and hopped off Sam’s lap after he placed a kiss on her head, almost forgetting completely what had upset her in the first place.
Sam watched her run back to the room with excitement to resume playing. “You know she’s gonna be the boss when it comes to her horses.” Sam laughed, turning his attention back to his book.
“I won’t overstep next time….” Dean smirked as he turned to follow y/n back inside.
Okay so this is a cute little drabble/small fic requested to me just recently by an anon who wanted some Jack Kline fluff. Took me two days but I came to this idea in the end so I hope you enjoy it anon as well as the rest of my lovely readers.
Warnings: Fluff, bugs, mentions of SPN episode 1x08 BUGS (that episode STILL gives me the heebie-jeebies).
It was that time of year, well the first time we ever had to deal with something like this. And of course Sam and Dean had to bail out on a ‘case’ but I knew my brothers just wanted to get out of doing the one thing that everyone does.
Spring cleaning.
Ever since we found the Bunker and decided to make it our permanent home, this place needed a serious scrub down and clean up. Cobwebs, dust, new bed sheets, incense (mainly for me) to be put up to get rid of the ancient smell. So every spring, I try to ensure that this bunker doesn’t end up like it was when we first found it.
Of course that means my brothers always try to get out of it (mainly Dean I just think Sam prefers to do the minor cleaning instead of what I have in mind). And Cass…..well he chooses to go up to heaven every time I say it’s time clean up the bunker. The only person kind enough to help out around here is my beau Jack.
Requested by : anon : Hi would you write a sis Winchester fic where sams homeschooling her?
Pairings : Sam/ sissy
Warnings : none- just a bunch of cuteness
A/N : I am so so so so so sorry to whoever asked me to write this. I get so anxious about writing it drives me crazzy.
——
You had just woken up when the door to your room flew open and a giant silhouette appeared at the door.
“Death..is that you ?” You groaned, your voice hoarse. “Wait, no… Death is short.”
A soft snort filled the silence before the lights were turned on, causing you to painfully shut your eyes while a small shriek left your mouth. It was only 8 ammm..
“Get up, we have school.” Sam walked over to your bed.
Your vision went black for a second as you rolled yoru eyes to the back of your head. Was he being serious ?
"Sammy.“ You sighed. "The one perk about homeschooling is the fact that we can do it WHEN EVER”
Your brother only smirked in response, sterness flooding his face right after a little smirked appeared.
“Come on.Get up.”
You whined, rolling over before shrieking again when the the temperature suddenly changed and your body fully froze. Sam was taking the blanket off of you.
You curled into a ball, watching him with disbelief. He watched back.
“Get up.” Your older brother ordered this time. “ Dean’s making breakfast.”
Once downstairs, Dean greeted you with a big grin, waving over towards the table before he spoke. “Come on, girls. Breakfast is ready.”
You smirked, dragging your feet over to the table, where plates of fuming bacon awaited. “Dean…that’s so disrespectful. Why do you keep saying girls when there’s only one girl here.” You point at Sam, earning yourself a good job smirk from Dean, as he is, as always, the one you learned all that from.
****
Finally done with breakfast, Sam whistled at you and you looked up.
“To the library” He commanded and you rolled your eyes, again, slumping your shoulders and pouting, in an attempt to have him let you go. But he only stared at you in response. His eyes undefeated by your attempt. So you just got up, shifting your whole body to the main room.
You plopped down on the chair, waiting as Sam picked up the books for the day.
He’s usually the one to choose what subject to study, as you always choose the easiest for you, english. And although Sam is pretty serious about schooling you, he sometimes let you be, cracking a few jokes along the hours to ease up the process for you.
‘What’s it going to be today ?” You asked half-heartedly, arms crossed over your chest and eyelids heavily sitting at a low level. But instead of verbally transmitting his thoughts, he instead tossed two books over your head, as he was standing right behind you.
Your heart skipped a beat and you jumped back, unconsciously flinching as the hard cover of the books made contact with the table, causing a loud thud to echo through the space.
“Physics.” Sam responded.
Really ?
“You could’ve said that without so much drama.” You gripped the side of your chest, rubbing it gently as your pulse steadied. Sam granted you a two second glare as he walked by before pulling back the chair beside you.
And for the next few hours you had to learn about magnetism and electromagnetism…Something about Fleming’s left-hand rule and about how electric motors work.
As you lost interest quickly, Sam had to improvise and explain other ways, multiple times. . He also had to yell at you to snap your mind back to earth. And just as if you hadn’t suffered enough, he assigned you a few exercises to see how much you learned. Unsurprisingly to you, it only took him two quick minutes of reading to sigh and rest his head against his palm.
You learned nothing.
And since you learned nothing from all the yelling you got, you suppressed a little laugh, causing a sudden change in Sam’s face. As his lips stood in a straight line. He was unamused, unlike you.
“I’m going to pretend like today didn’t happen. Tomorrow we’ll do this again.”
Your eyes lit up. “So we’re done ?”
“Yeah, for today. Starting tomorrow we’ll double the hours. Maybe then you’ll start learning something;”
Sam stood up from the chair and you just internally gasped.
the family that naps after running from the law together, stays together. or whatever the saying is.
or, Dean is accustomed to putting grumpy babies down for nap time.
WC: little blurb, ~0.6K
(warnings: implied canon-typical violence)
The third time you shift in the passenger seat of the Impala, Dean shakes his head. “Okay, that’s enough.”
“Sorry,” you murmur, eyes dry and hot from how tired you are.
Glancing over your shoulder, you can just make out Sam in the darkness of the backseat, passed out and snoring quietly. It wasn’t the hardest hunt you and the boys have been on, but it ended with a chase sequence: four local yokel sheriff deputies screaming at each other and trying to catch up to the Impala. In fairness, you did have a body in the trunk at the time, but that was less of a murder and more of preventing-a-revenant-from-returning-with-a-vengeance.
Between Dean’s driving, Sam’s navigation, and the police scanner you religiously set to local channels, the three of you made it out just fine. Still, none of you have slept in going on 48 hours. You don’t begrudge Sam getting the backseat, but… Well, it would be nice if you had a pillow or something to make the passenger seat more comfortable.
You start to sit up straight, resigning yourself to a night of shared quiet with Dean. “I’ll just -”
He glances away from the dark highway for a second. “Ditch the seatbelt and put your feet up.”
Some contrariness starts to creep up past the exhaustion weighing you down. You still keep your voice even lower than usual in deference to Sam, even though he could probably sleep through a hurricane as long as the Impala’s engine is running.
“Dean, what are you even saying to me right now, can I sleep or not –”
Rolling his eyes, Dean reaches out and grabs you by the knee. You don’t flinch, too tired to do anything but scowl when he pulls you sideways so that your legs are on the bench seat and your back is pressed into the corner between the seat and the door. The seatbelt digs into your neck until you relent and unclip it.
“There, isn’t that better?”
Dean’s tone is a little too snide for your liking, so you kick at his thigh and mutter, “Not really.”
Ignoring you, Dean catches your ankle and pulls until you give in and let yourself slide horizontal. It’s actually not uncomfortable – the Impala’s bench seat is deep enough you don’t feel like you’re about to fall off, and Dean rests a steady hand on your ankle between the top of your sock and the cuffed hem of your jeans. You shift a little bit, balling up Sam’s green sweatshirt under your head as a makeshift pillow, but after that, you don’t have any desire to move at all. Eyes drifting shut, you sink into the soothing growl of the Impala and Dean’s occasional humming.
-
When Dean looks over at them again after coming out of a curve and onto a long stretch of dark, prairie highway, they’re treading the line of sleep, all slow blinks and deep breaths.
Just like Sammy, he thinks fondly, rolling his eyes. The gentle rocking of the road beneath them and the dulcet tones of Creedence Clearwater Revival: foolproof method to knock out grumpy, overworked nerds. After another few minutes, they’re dead to the world and slack-faced in a deep sleep.
“Big babies,” he tells the two of them. “Gotta be wrestled into naptime, but then you’re out like a light, aren’t you?”
summary: y/n, lando’s rumoured girlfriend, attends the british gp 2023
pairing: lando norris x actress!reader
warnings: none that i know of
author's note: the first lando fic i've written in about 3 years so enjoy :) (i'm also considering making lando x actress!reader into like a series kinda thing so if anyone has any suggestions on what you would like to see please tell me!!) reblogs are always appreciated!!
yourusername added to their story
yourusername added to their story
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❤️💬 liked by landonorris and others
yourusername p2 at your home race! i couldn't be more proud 🧡
tagged: landonorris
comments
user1 i love how they've never officially confirmed their relationship but we all just know they're together
-> user2 how do you know that tho?
-> user1 have you seen her tweets and her caption?? it's so obvious
landonorris thanks darling
user3 DARLING?!?!?!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME
-> user4 i want what they have so bad
user5 if my boyfriend doesn't support me as much as y/n and lando support each other i don't want them
❤️💬 liked by yourusername and others
landonorris P2 ad a 🏆 at my home race!!!!! ❤️ you guys are crazyyyyyyyyyy 💙
comments
masonmount Congrats brother!
user1 amazing race lando ! incredible
mclaren Proud 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧
yourusername not me being replaced by a trophy :( sad times
-> user2 she's so fucking funny omg
-> landonorris don't worry you'll get lots of cuddles and kisses later
-> yourusername oh really? so you haven't forgotten i existed?
user3 did we just get a confirmation????
-> user4 I THINK WE DID
-> user5 i can't wait for them to be like this all the time
summary: I NEED A TOUCH DEPRIVED LANDO PLEASEEE like he’s just really clingy and always NEEDS to be touching reader and it’s just really cute (also please femreader) AND MAYBE YOU CAN ADD THAT THEY HAVE CATS!!
You were seated in the study, where the racing sim and gaming computer were. Of course, these weren’t yours; they belonged to your boyfriend, Lando Norris, who happened to be away.
Lando didn’t mind you using his stuff, in fact he was happy to let use them at your own will. You were wasting your time by playing Valorant with your friends, not even realising Lando was laying on the sofa nearby, looking intently at you with Luna (your cat) laying by his side.
You jumped, getting the shock of your life when you saw Lando when you got up to refill your tumbler.
“Shit! You scared me Lan!” He laughs at your reaction as you placed a hand on your chest, calming yourself down.
He shuffles forward, arms opening, immediately pulling you into a hug.
“Mmm, I missed you,” He hugs you tight.
“I missed you too,” You tried to pull away but the grip only tightens.
“Babe you’re hugging me so tight I can’t breathe,” Your voice muffled into his chest.
He groans, “I need this. I missed my babygirl.” He prolongs the hug but lets you go shortly after.
“I’m gonna take a shower, join me?” He asks and you shake your head, declining the offer as you had already taken one an hour ago.
He pouts, “Okay,” walking off to grab a fresh towel whilst looking down, still sulking.
“Luna, mummy doesn’t love me anymore,” Lando says to your cat.
You laughed at his reaction as you trailed behind him, making your way to the kitchen.
After refilling your tumbler, you went to his suitcase, unpacking it and proceeded to wash his dirty clothes. You even placed his shoes back onto his shoe rack and wheeled his suitcase back into the closet.
You made your way back to the kitchen, and started cooking Lando his favourite go to meal, a white sauce chicken pasta with a side of lettuce.
“Babe! Have you seen my suitcase? I swear I left it here,” Lando points to the spot where he left the suitcase.
You laughed, “I unpacked it for you. Figured you were tired enough,”
You were busy mixing the ingredients in when you felt a warm pair of hands wrap around your torso and a head on the crook of your neck. You smiled, knowing it was Lando.
“Thank you. You’re the best,” He says as he kisses your cheek.
You thought he would let go after that, but he didn’t.
“You’re clingy tonight,” You said as you continued cooking.
“Like I said, i missed my girl,”
You blushed, “I missed you too Lando,”
Luna meows when Lando says that.
Lando laughs, “I didn’t forget you Luna!” He lets you go, crouching down to pet Luna.
It remained this way for a good while. And even when you went to the sink to wash your hands, he remained attached to you.
“Lan,” You call out.
He hums in response.
“Can you grab the plates for me? I can’t reach them cause I’ve suddenly got a koala on my back,” You teased.
He chuckles but helps you with the plates.
You plate the food along with Luna’s with him still hugging you.
“Why don’t you go ahead and sit?”
“You’re eating too, right?” He asks.
You let out a soft laugh, “Of course I am silly,”
He smiles, giving you a peck before letting go hesitantly to take a seat on the island.
You pass him a plate of his food the both of you dig in with Luna seated by his side.
He moans as soon as he takes a spoonful into his mouth. “Have I ever told you how much I love your cooking? It’s so good babe,”
“Thank you, and yes, you have.”
He smiles. “Just making sure you knew,”
★ ★ ★
The two of you were cuddled up on the sofa, when suddenly Luna makes her way up to Lando.
“You missed Daddy huh?” He says to Luna as he pets her amd she meows in response. “Yeah I know you do,”
You paused the show as you needed to go to the bathroom.
You pull away from Lando, earning a string of upset noises, “Where you off to?”
“I need to pee,”
“Okay, I’ll come with,”
“What?”
“Cmon, lets go pee,”
You laughed in disbelief but went to the bathroom to relief yourself. As you were doing so, Lando stood outside, holding your hand. You let go for a minute to wash it.
Once done, the both of you went back to where you left off.
You decided to head to bed when you realised your cat was now in her pillow, asleep, and your boyfriend had dozed off, cuddled into you.
And yes, you could’ve definitely finished the season off on your own but you knew how much Lando enjoyed watching it with you so you switched the TV off and woke him up gently so that the both of you could go to bed.
“Lan,” You said, tapping him gently.
He hums in response.
“Lan, let’s go to bed yeah?” You said, tapping him gently again. He nods in response, slowly sitting up and walking to the room.
You tucked him in then yourself in. As soon as you made contact with the bed, Lando opens his arms, signalling that he wants cuddles. You let out a soft chuckle but shuffle your way to him. Luna wasn’t far behind, finding a spot on the bed beside you.
He embraces and kisses you, quickly falling asleep after that.
You were still awake so you drew patterns on his chest, but after a few minutes your eyes felt heavy and soon, you joined him in lala land.
as you visit your first wedding, lando realizes that maybe his wedding will be the next one he attends.
genre: fluffy fluff
pairing: female reader x lando norris
warnings: some anxiety about not being accepted by lando's family, but that's it
author's note: i started writing this a while ago but didn't feel like finishing it until tonight. i felt extra soft for lando today i think. anyway, i got an idea for wedding!lando, especially saying the things in the last part, and then the rest of the story just came along. this is a bit longer than the stuff i usually post, but i like it. sadly i feel like it's a little rushed because i wanted to post it tonight. hope you enjoy. ❤️
masterlist
“lando…” you groan, shaking your head. “can you come here for a moment?”
lando instantly plops out of your bedroom to come to where you’re standing in front of the full-body mirror in the hallway. “what’s wrong, love?” he asks, worried eyes meeting yours in the mirror.
“the dress… i…” you sigh, pausing for a moment as your eyes wander over the material. it’s blue, pretty and maybe a bit more flimsy than you usually went for. but then again, it's in the middle of the summer, and you'd rather not be too hot. “i bought it for today, but i’m not sure if it’s too flashy, or-“
your boyfriend shakes his head as he cuts you off. “it’s perfect.”
“you think?” you ask, biting your lip slightly to hold back a smile.
“yeah, totally.” he steps in behind you and places his hands on your waist, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. “but maybe it’s just because you’re wearing it. you make everything look like it’s the most fancy brand.”
you feel your cheeks warming up, feeling shy at the comment. trying to ignore it, you turn in his hold to face him. "you don't look too bad yourself," you say, taking him in. he's dressed in a dark, slim suit, fitting the occasion well. the tie hanging from his neck has not been tied yet, so you take the fabric in your hands to help him out.
today is the wedding of lando's older brother oliver and his fiancée savannah, and lando is going to be the best man. as soon as he got asked the question, he told you about it and he was so excited about taking you to the wedding. but he hadn't known that you had never been to a wedding before.
you'd seen them in movies, but you had no real experience so you weren't sure how everything would go or how you should act. and as if that wasn't enough, lando's whole family would be there. you'd met most of them during holidays and other celebrations, but there was always an increase of anxiety for you whenever you were meeting them again.
"you know," he says, almost as if he can hear your thoughts as they rumble through your brain. "there's nothing to worry about." you look up at him just as you're done with the tie. "everyone already loves you."
"i'm just a little nervous, i guess..."
one of his hands reach up to cup your face and you lean into his touch. "totally understandable." a small pout forms on your lips. "but everything will go smoothly, i'll make sure of that. okay?"
you nod and lando leans down to place a soft kiss onto your pout.
"you look so beautiful. i'll have to make sure all of the singles stay away so i don't lose you to one of them," he says, as if you could ever choose someone else over him.
there's nothing more romantic than a wedding.
that's what everyone has always told you, and you have had no issue believing them. yet, you haven't properly grasped just how romantic it is until you sit actually sit there, watching the entire church brighten once the wedding party makes their way towards the altar, hearing the gasps and cheers of the guests.
seeing lando makes it feel even more romantic.
sure, you saw him in his suit when he got dressed at your apartment. you even saw him just an hour ago when you parted right outside the church. but there's just something about the way the church lights shine on his face, the way he's surrounded by his closest friends and family up on the altar, and the way his smile grows so fond when he locks his eyes with you sitting by the other guests. he's so beautiful, as always, but there's a certain twinkle in his eyes that makes you fall for him all over again.
a wedding is the perfect symbol of love – and this wedding is perfect.
the bride is magnificent, just like the groom. it is so much prettier than in the movies, all of the emotions and the love spreading from the happy couple to every wedding guest. happy tears roll down their cheeks as they say their vows, and you feel yourself having to blink away a few stray tears, subtly wiping them off with your thumb.
every time your gaze leaves the couple to watch lando, your eyes meet his.
he hasn't been able to take his eyes off you for the whole ceremony.
when you lock eyes with him as oliver and savannah kiss for the first time as husband and wife, your eyes water again. you swear you can spot a tear in lando's eyes too.
you've never been particularly good at reading lips, but the whisper leaving his lips now is easy to understand; "i love you."
it's just as easy to whisper it back. "i love you too."
a perfect symbol, a perfect wedding – and your love for lando is perfect, too. just like his love is for you.
and as you look back at the bride and groom celebrating, lando can't help but wonder if the day you and him stand on the altar will be just as perfect as today is.
the wedding reception is also wonderful. white flowers as far as the eye can reach, long tables perfect for socialization, and amazing food. you and lando are lucky enough to be seated at the table of not only the bridal couple, but also some of lando's most talkative relatives. once there is just a little alcohol down their throats, there is no way anyone can worry about the conversation dying down or the mood turning awkward.
lando's hand never lets go of yours, fingers intertwined under the table as you listen in to the many beautiful speeches made to the bride and groom. he takes care of you in the most subtle, yet so important, ways, making sure you feel comfortable with the new environment. when he notices you being engrossed in a conversation with one of his sisters, he uses the opportunity to leave for the bathroom, giving you a quick kiss to your temple before hurrying off.
what lando does not expect to see when he comes back from the bathroom is a little baby.
in your arms.
when he nears your table, your eyes look up right into his instinctively. lando wishes he could engrave the sight of your expression into his brain, because he's never seen you smile like this before. you look like you're about to burst from happiness and possibly, probably, also baby fever. your hold on the baby is steady yet so gentle and he can tell from afar how comfortable the baby must be.
"honey, come meet zach, your..." you start once he arrives at the table. "second cousin? third?" you frown slightly, not being completely sure of the family tree.
"sarah's baby?" he asks, sitting down next to you again.
"yeah!"
the smile is back on your face as you look back down at the baby. lando smiles, too. "second cousin, then." one of his hands reach down to the baby's little cheek, thumb stroking over the insanely soft skin. "hey there, buddy."
you coo at the way lando's voice changes when he talks to his little second cousin, his baby voice seemingly working because a big grin flashes on zach's face. "oh, look at that! such a cutie."
lando's fingers move to squeeze the baby's cheeks together, eliciting a sweet giggle from him. your heart melts at the sight; you already knew that your beloved boyfriend is great with kids, but seeing him laughing along with the baby in your arms, bearing a smile that matches the one on zach's face? that feeling can't be matched by anything else in the world, you think.
you lean to rest your head against lando's shoulder and one of his arms sneaks around your waist as if out of habit. he keeps on playing, and zach keeps on laughing, and you feel like you could spend the rest of your life like this without problem.
a voice eventually interrupts your moment, and you lift your head to look behind you at the elderly woman standing there. you recognize her from the ceremony; she was sitting on the front row of the bride's side of the church.
her voice is sweet but a bit teasing as she speaks. "are we looking into the future here, sweethearts?" she looks between the two of you and at the baby in your arms.
you and lando instantly look at each other, both at a loss for words. "oh-" you start, at the same time as lando.
"well-"
both of you stutter for a while, trying to find something to say, but the lady thankfully saves you. "either way," she sends you both a wink. "you make the quite gorgeous couple. you have my best wishes for the future." and just as soon as she arrived, she's off again.
you look back at him, eyes meeting his surprised ones. you think about a good way to mention what she has just asked you, but then it feels like both you and lando come to the same conclusion at the same time.
we're in no rush. we're still young, we have time.
sarah soon comes by to pick up her son, staying for a little chat. her sister walks by and she too joins the conversation, but lando feels himself falling quiet quickly. he decides that he doesn't mind, he's very content staying out of it because that allows him to lay all his focus on you.
he admires the way your eyes glimmer at the older women, the way your silly little jokes make his relatives laugh; the way they seem to already be accepting you as a member of the family.
she's going to fit in perfectly, he thinks to himself.
lando's suit jacket is long forgotten when the after party starts to tone down, his broad chest only covered by his now slightly opened white button-up shirt.
yet again, he has lost you to his relatives. it's been a pretty common thing this evening. this time, you're sitting at a table with oliver and savannah, apparently very deep into a discussion.
lando feels a bit bad about breaking into the conversation, but he at the same time feels some kind of need to be a little selfish.
"sorry to interrupt," he says, smiling apologetically to the group before turning to you, holding out his hand. "may i have a dance?"
you nod and place your hand in his. "you may."
he leads you out on the dance floor before placing his hands on your hips. your hands land on his shoulders, which is good because you're both a bit tipsy, and this way you can make up for your worsening balance by using each other for support.
the music is slow and the dance floor is almost empty by now. you're both quiet for a few moments and lando seems like he's deep in thought.
your fingers intertwine at the back of his head as you interrupt the silence and look him deep in his eyes. "what are you thinking about?"
the corners of lando's lips tilt upward. "just how... you're so beautiful, and..." for the second time today, you feel your cheeks getting a bit warm at his words. you look to the side. "god, i'm trying really hard to not propose to you right now."
your now widening eyes dart back at him immediately, your breath getting stuck in your throat as your feet stop moving. "what?!"
"it's rude to propose at someone else's wedding. it takes the spotlight away from them, i really don't wanna do that."
you can't believe your ears – and the fact that he seems so unbothered by the words coming out of his mouth make you appalled. to him, it's like it is no big deal. "yeah, i know about that," you start. "but what do you mean by that? like, what-"
"what i mean is that i really want to marry you."
"oh, lando..." you shake your head slightly but you can't stop the smile spreading across your face. "i hope you don't think that you can propose to me this casually. you'll have to do it for real."
he grins. "of course, love. this was just a fair warning." you chuckle at him, rolling your eyes. "now you still have time to run away before i make my very public proposal with cameras everywhere. you know, the type where you feel so bad that you just have to say yes because you don't want to cause a scene."
"you're an idiot."
"your idiot."
you lean in to kiss him, both of you smiling and laughing against each other. "my idiot that i love a lot."
summary: the youngest leclerc just happens to be dating a certain british rival of her brother’s
itsy/n
liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, and 875,862 others
itsy/n something in the orange
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charles_leclerc disgusting
username the total lack of loyalty towards her brothers is hilarious
username i too would throw my whole fam under the bus for lando
landonorris can i get your number?
itsy/n got a bf, sorry
landonorris he hot?
itsy/n steaming, he’s got this weird growth thing on his face rn though 😕
landonorris LEAVE THE BEARD ALONE
username girlie really said ferrari who?
itsy/n
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 764,748 others
itsy/n home
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charles_leclerc come to the ferrari garage
itsy/n is carlos there?
charles_leclerc yes?
itsy/n okay i guess i’ll come say hi to him
carlossainz55 👋🏻
username she really humbles charles so bad
username ‘home’ i’m not crying, you are
landonorris
liked by itsy/n, danielricciardo, and 965,872 others
landonorris very real and legit photo of the moment charles found out his sister and i were dating (for real though, each brother cornered me over the course of one weekend and threatened me)
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arthur_leclerc threatened is such a strong word
charles_leclerc no idea what you’re talking about, that was clearly a friendly chat
lorenzotl no proof
itsy/n to be fair, you probably got off lightly. they locked my first boyfriend in a closet for three hours
exbf it was actually four hours
itsy/n oh my gosh, hello, how’ve you been?!
landonorris no.
username not them acting like y/n couldn’t absolutely kick lando’s ass on her own if she needed to
charles_leclerc
liked by itsy/n, athur_leclerc, and 1,838,972 others
charles_leclerc famille
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landonorris i’m family? I’M FAMILY?! @ itsy/n come look, baby, he called me family!!
charles_leclerc don’t let it get to your head, y/n made me include you
username so ya’ll looking to adopt another sibling or????
username the most beautiful family
itsy/n
liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 862,862 others
itsy/n forza ferrari or whatever
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username girl, how much did charles pay you to post this?
username arthur got a gun to your head rn?
charles_leclerc you could sound a little more excited, i won?
itsy/n i gave you a high five already
username charles and lando really said shared custody
landonorris and it’s daddy’s weekend next weekend 😎
itsy/n LANDO NO
landonorris LANDO YES
charles_leclerc lando. no.
landonorris lando no…
landonorris
liked by itsy/n, charles_leclerc, and 1,862,872 others
landonorris he loves me really
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itsy/n my boys ♥️
arthur_leclerc ??
itsy/n yes? can i help you?
charles_leclerc maman said i have to be nice to you
itsy/n the other day you said you thought there was no guy better for me and that he’d make a great brother-in-law
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origamiaround
snowghoul
germansingergirl
ellievsbear
gummygunk
kianamaiart
theartofmadeline
