Summary: After leaving your boyfriend some little notes of love in his lunchbox, you became very famous throughout the night shift. But you didn't know this until you had to step into the ER trying to give Jack his forgotten lunchbox.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any spelling or grammatical errors.
Thanks to the anon who requested a part 2 for Little Notes of Love and illuminated my brain because this little fic wasn't meant to have a part 2.
Hope you guys love it just as much as the first part.
(Sorry that this took me more time than I planned to 🙃)
The ER wasn't a place you liked. Really, you didn't enjoy being at a hospital. Ironic, since your boyfriend is an ER doctor. There is nothing specific for you to dislike about the place, it's just a hospital, and no one really likes being there. But this time, you drove voluntarily to the place all because Jack forgot his lunchbox, and your concern about the rare times your boyfriend gets to eat at his job is more important than your dislike for the hospital.
You don't really know where to get in. You're not a patient, and you're afraid that the lady at the desk would not let you in, so even if you're a little embarrassed, you get in through the ambulance bay. Your plan is not to stay too long and to bother people as little as possible. It's a very busy place, and you don't want to get in anyone's way.
You stand near the place where a desk is (the nurse station), trying to find Jack through all the people moving from one side to another so quickly that you could get dizzy.
Someone taps your shoulder, making you turn around.
“Ma’am, is everything okay? You should go through the desk at the front door.”
She said calmly with tired eyes, but she still gave you a small smile. By Jack's description, you think it's Dr. Ellis.
You smile at her, letting out a relieved sigh.
“I’m not a patient, I'm fine,” you assure her. You lift the gray lunchbox in your hand, and by the expression she makes, you think she recognizes it. “I’m looking for my boyfriend, he's an attending here,” you explain to her.
“So you are the mysterious Lady Notes, huh?” she said, smiling widely, her eyes suddenly bright with interest.
Your cheeks burn because you never thought that Jack would show them the notes, or that they would see them.
“Guess I am,” you said, telling her your actual name, but something tells you that you're stuck with Lady Notes.
“I’m Dr. Parker Ellis,” she introduced herself by shaking your hand. “Follow me.”
You do. She guides you through the nurse station toward a nurse who looks like she is in charge, and by the look she gives you above her reading glasses and Jack's description, you think she's Lena. By her side, there is a tall man who looks completely relaxed and not even bothered by the rush of the ED.
“Look who finally visited us,” Parker said, too excited.
You stay a few steps behind, a little embarrassed by the attention the three of them give you, and again, they seem to recognize you the moment they see the gray lunchbox in your hands.
Lena gives you a full smile, looking really excited, while Shen just says:
“You are Mysterious Lady Notes?” he asked, taking a sip from his Dunkin' coffee, looking as surprised as he could.
Lena gave him a look that made him shrug.
“You are beautiful, hon,” she said, walking toward you. “I’m Lena, the charge nurse from the night shift.” She smiles at you, and you give her your best smile as you introduce yourself to her.
“I don't want to disturb you or anyone. Jack forgot his lunchbox, so I thought I'd stop by and give it to him,” you explain.
“You don't disturb anyone. We all have been waiting to meet the woman who has softened Abbott.”
And you can clearly see that because of how excited the three of them seem at your presence, and their reactions attract more people.
“I thought Jack was having hallucinations when he said he would take five minutes to eat the lunch his girlfriend made for him,” Shen told you from where he was standing a few steps back from Lena. He had been talking about something with Parker before. “I’m Dr. Shen.”
You tell your name again, giggling at his comment.
You told yourself it was going to be a quick visit: give Jack his lunchbox, a kiss, and then head back to your apartment to sleep. But twenty minutes later, you have said your name more times than in your entire life, introducing yourself to anyone who tells you, “You're the mysterious Lady Notes.” You get to know Nurse Mateo, Dr. Henderson, the student Nazly, Nurse Vivi, and you think that by that point, you have met everyone who works there.
“What is happening here?” a well-known voice cut through the crowd surrounding the nurse station.
Jack stood there waiting for an explanation when his eyes met yours, and realization quickly hit him.
“Okay, you guys, stop overwhelming my missus.” He walked toward you, placing himself by your side and resting one of his hands on your lower back as usual.
“I don't think you get to call her missus if you haven't married her yet,” Mateo said playfully, pointing to your bare ring finger.
Jack looks at the nurse, narrowing his eyes, and points at him.
“Careful, or you'll spend the rest of the night with the bad cases,” he warns while the rest of the people laugh.
“He’s right, Abbott. I have no idea how you haven't put a ring on that finger already,” Parker says, raising both eyebrows.
If your cheeks were warm before, now your face was burning hot. All the eyes were on the two of you, and everyone was supporting Ellis and Mateo's thoughts.
“Okay, okay, all of you, leave them alone. Go back to your jobs. There are sick people who need you all,” Lena commands with a tone of voice that actually scares you, and it is a warning for everyone because they all say goodbye to you and go back to work as soon as they can.
Jack guides you to an empty room. Your face is hot, but the wide smile is something nobody could get rid of no matter what they said.
“So I'm the mysterious Lady Notes,” you said, giggling.
He looks at you in that intense way that only he is able to do, that hazel gaze that makes your legs tremble like jelly and your heart race so hard that you can hear it in your ears.
He huffed, rolling his eyes at your words.
“They insisted on calling you that until they knew you,” he mumbled, trying to look irritated but failing because of the smile growing on his face.
His hands go instinctively to your waist, and your arms settle around his neck. There is not an inch separating the two of you. You brush your nose against his, which finally makes him give you that crooked smile you love so much.
Jack didn't wait. He kissed you, not caring that anyone could walk in and catch you.
“You forgot your lunchbox,” you said through the kiss.
He breaks the kiss but rests his forehead against yours.
“And you brought it to me instead of going to sleep when you have to work early,” he whispered in disbelief.
“Your shift is long. You need to eat, and I don't trust the vending machine,” you said as if it wasn't a point of comparison, and just imagining him eating something from the vending machine felt like a betrayal.
He shakes his head and lets out a little laugh.
“I love you.” He leaves a kiss on your temple and another on your cheek.
“I love you too,” you respond, leaving a short kiss on his lips.
You wanted to stay a little longer, but you saw that the ER was full and that you had already attracted too much attention and distracted several people. You didn't want to take up too much of the chief attending's time.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” You leave the lunchbox in his hands and another kiss on his lips. “Eat something,” you said, pointing at him with your index finger like a threat.
He just smiles at you.
“I will. See you in the morning.” He watches you disappear through the door.
He's quick to open the lunchbox, finding just what he wanted: a little Post-it note. It was white, and written on it was:
“Lovely grumpy doctor, if you ever forget your lunchbox again, you will be temporarily banned from these masterpieces that I put my heart into.
(I’m being very serious, please don't forget to eat like you forgot your lunchbox.)
Should I be worried about memory problems? They are very common at your age.
Your beautiful girlfriend ;)”
He lets out a laugh, shaking his head.
That one was going to his locker.
Jack keeps the Post-it in his scrub pocket after reading it a few more times before Parker finds him and tells him that they have an incoming trauma. She also tries to see what the note says, but he makes sure to hide it from her view.
It was just for him.
After the trauma and doing some rounds, he finally has time to sit and do some charts. But peace was something that never happened in the ER, and definitely after your visit, he would know no peace for a while.
“What?” he asked Lena, who was looking at him above her reading glasses.
She gives him a look that Jack completely ignores.
“What are you waiting for?” she said as if it were obvious. “She deserves that damn rock on her finger.” It was more of an order than a suggestion.
Jack goes back to his chart, but the last thing he was thinking about was the patient. He would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it, but it had only been a year and a half since the two of you started officially dating. He didn't want to scare you. Even though you didn't seem bothered by the comments his co-workers made, maybe you thought they were just kidding and trying to bother him.
There was nothing that he would like more than to call you his wife, Mrs. Abbott, seeing you stop signing your notes with “girlfriend” and replacing it with “your wife,” the title you deserve because there was nothing in that life that would make Jack let you go.
You were stuck with him for the rest of your life. What better way than to make it official?
Since your visit to the ER, your discomfort with the hospital has faded, and you have visited more often, dropping Jack off and picking him up, always making a little entrance to say hello and gossip a little with Lena, Ellis, and Shen.
Now you make sure to pack Jack more food than before and tell him specifically which bowls are for each nightcrawler: the dark blue one for Mateo, the red one for Parker, the green one for Shen, and so on with the rest of the crew.
He complains, telling you that you are spoiling them. But deep inside, he loves how you worry about all of them, so he gives them all the bowls, threatening that if they don't return them empty at the end of their shift, they will be stuck at triage for an entire week.
But something that keeps staying on his mind, and that everyone keeps telling him, even Dana and Robby, is about the ring that is missing from your finger.
It doesn't sound like a rushed step if everyone keeps telling him that he's been taking a long time.
I have to admit I was smiling like an idiot while writing this 😽
yn's new song only makes the rumours worse, mclaren admin refuses to help and fans can't decide whether it's all pr or they're closer to a confirmation than ever.
warnings: changed the lyrics to the bridge of drop dead to match lando's zodiac sign(???) i don't know if that's a warning, but that's about it.
a/n: thank you for the love on part one (: here's part 2!! let me know what you think xx
y/n.y/l ✓
Liked by isimostar, allysalort and 3.890.256 others
y/n.y/l ✓ drop dead has dropped!!!! song & music video OUT NOW EVERYWHERE 🪽
i hope you guys love it as much as i do xoxoxoxo
view all 19.709 comments
user6 OH WE LOVE HER BADLY ACTUALLY
y/n.y/l ✓ 🩷
passthatpuss ✓ A HIT.
y/n.y/l ✓ i adore you
user81 best thing to come out of the podcast i'm not even sorry😬
user4 'one night i was bored in bed and stalked you on the internet' yeAH WE KNOW GIRL
user11 This line actually made me scream out loud
user9 imagine finding out someone wrote 'you're so so pretty boy i'm paranoid i made you up' about YOU
teamyn ✓ also if you think this is bad wait until the album 🙃
user33 DONT EVEN JOKE
user12 she sounds SO in love im gonna be sick🫠🫠
user23 @/lando 🌀🌀🌀 you want to like this post sooooo bad 🌀🌀🌀🌀
user15 watching lando edits to this song on tiktok is going to hit like crack I just know it
sabrinacarpenter ✓ everyone say thank you pretty boy
y/n.y/l ✓ thank you pretty boy!
user43 THE WAY MY JAW DROPPED
user7 I'VE BEEN DROPPING HINTS ALL NIGHT THAT I'D LOVE IT IF YOU HELD MY HAND ¡¡¡¡!!!!
user2 respectfully, i will now be making this song my entire personality
user55 chat do we think lando has listened
user44 oh i know he HAS listened. way before any of us
user13 i can't stop thinking about 'i've got chewing gum and a bunch of stuff i'd like to know'
tatemcrae ✓ already on repeattttt ♥︎ by author
user3 learned this one already. release another one❤️ ♥︎ by author
user5 lando norris the man that you are apparently
alexandramalenaleclerc ✓ Soo goodd ⭐⭐⭐ ♥︎ by author
user14 AND THEN MAYBE WE COULD MAKE MAKE OUT!!!!. CLOTHES OFF!!!!! AND FALL TO THE GROUND!!!
user1 the bridge just took me OUTT. the amount of ppl probably googling lando norris zodiac sign rn 😭
user1 and take a wild guess what the answer is😀😀😀 if u guessed scorpio u would be right 😀😀😀😀
user8 she set herself UP with those lyrics😭
user10 'and tell the whole damn world' ok!! ready when you are!!!
2 April 2026
y/n.y/l ✓
Liked by zaralarsson, alixearle and 1.498.032 others
y/n.y/l Sabchella weekend 1 🪩🌵
unfortunately Sabrina did not bring me out for espresso but otherwise lovely weekend
view all 7.908 comments
sabrinacarpenter ✓ weekend 2 i'll think about it
y/n.y/l ✓ mhmmm
user13 IS IT TOO LATE FOR ME TO BUY A TICKET I NEED TO BE THERE WHEN IT HAPPENS
user11 ICON 💋
palomaidaliasandoval breaking things at the @/airbnb Sabrina's pit stop experience! 😍
y/n.y/l ✓ 🤩 so fun
user33 WHAT DID YOU THINK OF JUSTIN'S SET?
user8 YNCHELLA WHEN ♥︎ by author
user14 exactly !!!!!!!
user1 CAPTION🤣🤣🤣🤣
haileybieber ✓ sweetest beauty 🌸
y/n.y/l ✓ 🫂 loved meeting you!
user6 ynbrina !!!!! this friendship continues to be everything TO ME
user10 Favourite Sabrina song GO
y/n.y/l ✓ we almost broke up last night
y/n.y/l ✓ &&& busy woman!
user3 addressing the guest performance rumours but not the lando ones is a choice girl
user12 Wow 🫣🫣 you are not real
user81 sabchella with a side of bieberfever ♥︎ by author
user7 now where's the mysterious sportsman celebwhispers mentioned 👀
user2 that blind item ended up being lewis pls keep up
user5 'otherwise lovely weekend' pls ur so funny
y/n.y/l ✓ i promise i won't go bald
user4 The way i genuinely believed sabrina was bringing her out 💔💔💔
user9 Couldn't happen without me there sorry!
13 April 2026
mclarenf1 ✓
Liked by user4, user81 and 220.012 others
mclarenf1 Drop dead? More like mic drop 🎤
Click the link in bio to watch Lando and Oscar try to finish the lyrics to some of your favourite songs from Coachella while we wait for the next race weekend!
view all 3.098 comments
user12 OH MCLAREN ADMIN YOU ARE EVILLLLL
user4 them choosing these screenshots from THAT part of the video too 😭
user7 why were we robbed of cowboy osc??? genuine question
user10 landoscar u will ALWAYS be famous
user2 LANDO'S FACE REALISING IT WAS DROP DEAD LMFAOOOO
user15 the way oscar couldn't even keep a straight face as soon as it started playing 😭
user1 he recognised it FAST too. oscar a yn stan confirmed???
user19 11:35..... absolute cinema🚬🚬
user21 Why were they reading the lyrics like it was poetry? 🤣
user3 mclaren admin saw the rumors and said 'free engagement!!'
user8 what if they're not together and Lando just genuinely likes the song??
user6 delete❤️
user14 okay are they just openly laughing at us now???
user18 'everyone's just heard oscar sing for the first time in mclaren' hahahahaha
user11 starting to think this is now mutually beneficial pr and nothing else
user5 the way i wouldn't even care anymore because it's entertaining af
user9 well if this is a bit they're all VERY committed to it..
user17 lando knew every word to drop dead btw. like he listened enough times to know the lyrics. just thought i would point that out
user13 AND HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE SINGING IT TOO
user16 oscar was just straight up rewriting every song lmaoo
givenchy takes yn to miami for the gp & she's got a big mouth, but at least she's self aware [singer!reader]
warnings: none.
a/n: i am so so so incredibly sorry it took me this long to post the third and final part to girl so in love! but here it is!!! hope this ending was worth the wait! again, thank you for reading <3 would love to know what you think xx
lando ✓
Liked by georgerussel63, alex_albon and 540.981 others
lando Lil bitta the break. Lil bitta Miami. Nothing lil about that lizard
view all 1.147 comments
user5 the first pic is killing me why is he laying like that 😭
user3 he's genuinely just a guy
lnfour ✓ ain't nothing lil about these camera skills
yn's new song only makes the rumours worse, mclaren admin refuses to help and fans can't decide whether it's all pr or they're closer to a confirmation than ever.
warnings: changed the lyrics to the bridge of drop dead to match lando's zodiac sign(???) i don't know if that's a warning, but that's about it.
a/n: thank you for the love on part one (: here's part 2!! let me know what you think xx
y/n.y/l ✓
Liked by isimostar, allysalort and 3.890.256 others
y/n.y/l ✓ drop dead has dropped!!!! song & music video OUT NOW EVERYWHERE 🪽
i hope you guys love it as much as i do xoxoxoxo
view all 19.709 comments
user6 OH WE LOVE HER BADLY ACTUALLY
y/n.y/l ✓ 🩷
passthatpuss ✓ A HIT.
y/n.y/l ✓ i adore you
user81 best thing to come out of the podcast i'm not even sorry😬
user4 'one night i was bored in bed and stalked you on the internet' yeAH WE KNOW GIRL
user11 This line actually made me scream out loud
user9 imagine finding out someone wrote 'you're so so pretty boy i'm paranoid i made you up' about YOU
teamyn ✓ also if you think this is bad wait until the album 🙃
user33 DONT EVEN JOKE
user12 she sounds SO in love im gonna be sick🫠🫠
user23 @/lando 🌀🌀🌀 you want to like this post sooooo bad 🌀🌀🌀🌀
user15 watching lando edits to this song on tiktok is going to hit like crack I just know it
sabrinacarpenter ✓ everyone say thank you pretty boy
y/n.y/l ✓ thank you pretty boy!
user43 THE WAY MY JAW DROPPED
user7 I'VE BEEN DROPPING HINTS ALL NIGHT THAT I'D LOVE IT IF YOU HELD MY HAND ¡¡¡¡!!!!
user2 respectfully, i will now be making this song my entire personality
user55 chat do we think lando has listened
user44 oh i know he HAS listened. way before any of us
user13 i can't stop thinking about 'i've got chewing gum and a bunch of stuff i'd like to know'
tatemcrae ✓ already on repeattttt ♥︎ by author
user3 learned this one already. release another one❤️ ♥︎ by author
user5 lando norris the man that you are apparently
alexandramalenaleclerc ✓ Soo goodd ⭐⭐⭐ ♥︎ by author
user14 AND THEN MAYBE WE COULD MAKE MAKE OUT!!!!. CLOTHES OFF!!!!! AND FALL TO THE GROUND!!!
user1 the bridge just took me OUTT. the amount of ppl probably googling lando norris zodiac sign rn 😭
user1 and take a wild guess what the answer is😀😀😀 if u guessed scorpio u would be right 😀😀😀😀
user8 she set herself UP with those lyrics😭
user10 'and tell the whole damn world' ok!! ready when you are!!!
2 April 2026
y/n.y/l ✓
Liked by zaralarsson, alixearle and 1.498.032 others
y/n.y/l Sabchella weekend 1 🪩🌵
unfortunately Sabrina did not bring me out for espresso but otherwise lovely weekend
view all 7.908 comments
sabrinacarpenter ✓ weekend 2 i'll think about it
y/n.y/l ✓ mhmmm
user13 IS IT TOO LATE FOR ME TO BUY A TICKET I NEED TO BE THERE WHEN IT HAPPENS
user11 ICON 💋
palomaidaliasandoval breaking things at the @/airbnb Sabrina's pit stop experience! 😍
y/n.y/l ✓ 🤩 so fun
user33 WHAT DID YOU THINK OF JUSTIN'S SET?
user8 YNCHELLA WHEN ♥︎ by author
user14 exactly !!!!!!!
user1 CAPTION🤣🤣🤣🤣
haileybieber ✓ sweetest beauty 🌸
y/n.y/l ✓ 🫂 loved meeting you!
user6 ynbrina !!!!! this friendship continues to be everything TO ME
user10 Favourite Sabrina song GO
y/n.y/l ✓ we almost broke up last night
y/n.y/l ✓ &&& busy woman!
user3 addressing the guest performance rumours but not the lando ones is a choice girl
user12 Wow 🫣🫣 you are not real
user81 sabchella with a side of bieberfever ♥︎ by author
user7 now where's the mysterious sportsman celebwhispers mentioned 👀
user2 that blind item ended up being lewis pls keep up
user5 'otherwise lovely weekend' pls ur so funny
y/n.y/l ✓ i promise i won't go bald
user4 The way i genuinely believed sabrina was bringing her out 💔💔💔
user9 Couldn't happen without me there sorry!
13 April 2026
mclarenf1 ✓
Liked by user4, user81 and 220.012 others
mclarenf1 Drop dead? More like mic drop 🎤
Click the link in bio to watch Lando and Oscar try to finish the lyrics to some of your favourite songs from Coachella while we wait for the next race weekend!
view all 3.098 comments
user12 OH MCLAREN ADMIN YOU ARE EVILLLLL
user4 them choosing these screenshots from THAT part of the video too 😭
user7 why were we robbed of cowboy osc??? genuine question
user10 landoscar u will ALWAYS be famous
user2 LANDO'S FACE REALISING IT WAS DROP DEAD LMFAOOOO
user15 the way oscar couldn't even keep a straight face as soon as it started playing 😭
user1 he recognised it FAST too. oscar a yn stan confirmed???
user19 11:35..... absolute cinema🚬🚬
user21 Why were they reading the lyrics like it was poetry? 🤣
user3 mclaren admin saw the rumors and said 'free engagement!!'
user8 what if they're not together and Lando just genuinely likes the song??
user6 delete❤️
user14 okay are they just openly laughing at us now???
user18 'everyone's just heard oscar sing for the first time in mclaren' hahahahaha
user11 starting to think this is now mutually beneficial pr and nothing else
user5 the way i wouldn't even care anymore because it's entertaining af
user9 well if this is a bit they're all VERY committed to it..
user17 lando knew every word to drop dead btw. like he listened enough times to know the lyrics. just thought i would point that out
user13 AND HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE SINGING IT TOO
user16 oscar was just straight up rewriting every song lmaoo
𓃴 · fem ! reader ꨄ lando norris ⌞ ୨୧ ⌝ smau , est relationship , fluff ⌞ ☕️ ⌝ private relationship , loverboy lando , reader is a cat mom ⌞ 🌻 ⌝ warnings. suggestive jokes , parasocial bs , prying fans and media , microaggression ⌞ 🥐 ⌝ bleats. this was originally a fem!oc written fic + smau series, but i dnf'd. one day, i'll have the motivation to write the orginal...maybe. anyway, lmk if you want more from me or if i need to put the pen down — xoxo, doe.
ılıılı Diggin' On You · TLC
liked by maxfewtrell, carlossainz55, and 432,697 others
lando tender loving care 💛
view comments
username1 omg when did the kitty start letting lando give her kisses 🥺
lando she's sweet with me as long as i don't bother her when she's cuddled up to her mum
username1 the spare human treatment (❤︎ by author)
username2 enjoy the break lando 🧡
username3 lando cooking? lando cooking well 🤯
username4 it's only because his girlfriend is giving him step by step directions
username5 last pic is crazyyy did bro pull up a chair while she was in the bath??? (❤︎ by author)
username6 lando liked!
username7 yeah...he liked what he saw in that tub (❤︎ by author)
username8 doesn't he know that she's supposed to be making the sandwiches for him? be a man bro
username9 botcel + lonely + misogynistic
username10 only a man would see another man loving HIS GIRL and think it's demasculating
view story replies:
ynpriv it's skill not magic 😅
lando yes, you are very skilled
lando but that doesn't mean you're not a magical woman
martingarrix batmans?
lando jealous mate 🧐
ynpriv i thought u were putting batman on your keychain but u left him :(
lando i left him for you and took yours instead love
lando so we could be reminded of eachother when we're apart 😌
ynpriv 😭❤️🩹
liked by f1updates, lnfour, oscarsincircles, and 123,766 others
fourb0blando this interviewer took it way too far. no other WAG has been questioned like this, and we know why. it was disgusting behavior overall, and should cost him his press pass. it’s very blatant that the media’s issues with lando’s partner are based on racism and the fact that he’s adamant on keeping her identity private. ironically, this only proved that she should stay private. if we never hear lando utter a word about her again, cite this interview as the reason. keep the questions related to racing; not about drivers’ partners and families.
LN: “Max had the better pace today, and he fought hard for it as usual. The Red Bull just has the speed on the parts of the track where we lack, which is the straights.”
INT: “…Nothing else?”
LN: (He frowns, tilting his head.) “Sorry?”
INT: “Excuse me—Were there any other factors that interfered with you finishing 1st today?”
LN: (After a beat, he laughs.) “Oh, you mean Oscar? Yeah, he gave me a good challenge for P2 when it was clear that Max was out of reach. Tense for the team probably, but lots of fun for us.”
INT: “You wouldn’t say that your not-so-imaginary girlfriend was a distraction this weekend?”
LN: (He stares.) “…What?”
INT: “Your girlfriend—with the mess she caused you on social media this past week? And how she made you insult one of your own fans to defend her, a woman that we don’t even know the name of. You wouldn’t say she’s a distraction?”
LN: (A long pause. He answers sharply.) “No. I wouldn’t. And, she didn’t make me do anything; I chose to defend my girlfriend from a disrespectful comment. Move on, or I’ll do it again.”
INT: “Okay, but, is having such a…unique girlfriend what’s best for you at this time? I can’t imagine she’s the best choice in a woman you could have at your side when you have the potential to win your first cham—“
LN: (Glaring, he interrupts firmly.) “That’s enough. ‘Unique girlfriend?’ Are you mad? What made you so bold to think that you could say that about my partner, about anyone for that matter—and say something like that on live TV too? Don’t attempt to disguise your racism as concern about my capability to win. I’ve won all of my races with her support, and I’ll win this championship with her support too. We’re done here.”
view comments
username11 it's so embarrasing to be a fan of this sport as a black woman
username12 it's hard to be a fan of f1 as any minority fr
username13 "move on, or i'll do it again" + "we're done here" and my clothes are on the floor???
user14 lando overreacted imo i don't think the interviewer was being racist 🤷♀️
user15 are you a woman of color?
user14 no
user15 that's what i fucking thought.
user16 my cousin works as a cameraman for sky f1 and told me that the mclaren legal were just spotted walking to the media center 😬
fourb0blando god i hope he's booted!!
liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri, and 900,874 others
lando home is with my belle 💛
comments for this post are turned off.
liked by hammert1me, mctwinks, landomain, and 142,916 others
f1updates oops 😅 we jumped the start! belle is not ❌ the name of lando norris’ girlfriend. lando cleared up the confusion in today’s post-race podium interview.
INT: “Firstly, Lando, new face here for Motorsport Network. On behalf of my team back at home, I’d like to express a sincere apology for the conduct of our previous journalist. We’d appreciate it if you would extend our apologies to Belle, and let her know we don’t align ourselves with those sort of beliefs.”
LN: “I appreciate the in-person apology. It’s nice to know that he was properly handled and removed from the press pen, but—,” (His tone is hesitant.) “—Sorry, who’s Belle?”
MV + OP: (Laughing.)
LN: (He pulls a face, confused.) “What? Have I missed something?”
MV: “Yes, mate. Belle. You know Belle.”
LN: (He appears perplexed.) “Mate, I think I’d remember someone named Belle if I knew her.”
OP: (He shakes his head, smiling). “Lando’s not been on socials. They mean your girlfriend. After the ‘name reveal.’”
LN + MV + OP: (They laugh. The press are quietly confused.)
LN: “Sorry—,” (He’s grinning as he fixes his hat.) “I didn’t mean to be rude. I’ve not opened any social media for like, a couple months. ‘Belle’ is not my partner’s name.”
INT: “Oh. Uh. Well. The, uh, caption on your most recent Instagram post was: Home is with my Belle..but, her name isn’t Belle?”
LN: (Practically giggling.) “No. I do see how you got there though. She just reminds of Belle, the Disney Princess from Beauty and the Beast. Her personality and such. And, the yellow color scheme of the photos—it was just too good to pass up. Sorry for the confusion; you’ll have to return to calling her ‘Lando’s partner,’ unfortunately.”
INT: “You know, I figure that was the connection we all should’ve made instead of thinking you’d just decide to finally share her name in an Instagram caption.”
LN: “Nah, it would’ve fooled me too if I were a fan or journalist.”
MV: “You know who thinks your girlfriend is Princess Belle? P, mate. Ever since she saw her in that yellow dress when you two came over for dinner that night.”
LN: “Aw. That’s adorable. I’ll have to tell—oh, wow. I almost just said her name. I’ll tell ‘Belle,’ and she’ll treat P to a tea party in the proper princess dress I bet.” (He laughs.)
view comments
username17 put a piece of bread on each side of my head to complete the legendary sandwich 😔
username18 yeah guys let’s go ahead and reenroll in grade school 🙏🏼
user19 i'm honestly going to keep calling her belle 🤐
user20 no fr !! it's a compliment if anything, since lando said she's like the princess right??
user21 yeah, i think it's okay if we use it as a nickname until we know otherwise. calling her lando's gf all the time feels wrong 🤷🏻♀️
transcription | a tik tok filmed during mclaren’s fanstage
FAN: “What’s Belle’s top 3 circuits?”
LN: (He snorts.) “Oh—the Belle name is sticking around, is it?”
CROWD: (Resounding cheering.)
LN: “Alright, alright. Stubborn today, aren’t they Osc?”
OP: (Laughing.) “Mate, don’t involve me in this.”
LN: “Hmph. Fine. Belle’s,” (He says with a smirk) “—top three circuits. Hmm. She’s a huge fan of COTA or Spa; I’d say she has those tied for P1. Then…I think Suzuka for P2, followed by Interlagos in P3. She’d probably go with Spa over COTA if forced—she absolutely loved being there this year.”
CROWD: (Uproar.)
LN: "What? That’s a good list! She has taste!"
FAN: (Shouting.) “She was at Spa?!”
LN: “Yeah.” (Lando crosses his arms smugly.) “She’s been to more races that you lot could probably imagine. And you’ve never even noticed her.”
ılıılı Put Your Records On · Corrine Bailey Rae
liked by landopriv, lilyzzz, peepee_pilao, and 23 others
ynpriv yk...belle norris isn't such a bad pseudonym 🔆💐💛👸🏾🌟
view comments
landopriv you realize that's first name belle and last name norris right?
ynpriv i do
landopriv oh okay 😁😊😁😊
ynsbestfriend pretty princess 💓
ynpriv u da real princess
lilyzzz i'm so envious of your dress collection 😫
ynpriv gonna send u a few links to my fav online shops
lilyzzz omg u are a modern day princess 😲
brucethewombat lando definitely is the beast
landopriv ur one of cinderella's frickin rats mate
ynpriv save it for the track and not my aesthetic post maybe ???
peepee_pilao we need another garden frolicking date asap
ynpriv don't even play let's check our schedules rn
view story replies:
ynpriv don't bother getting a car home 😒
ynpriv the locks will be changed 😒😒😒
lando huh? i didn't do anything!!!
ynpriv YOU GOT RID OF MY MULLET WITHOUT PERMISSION
lando baby…you didn't even like it at first ???
ynpriv but i grew to love him. and you killed him 😔
lando i'll get my barber to give me all the trimmings for a proper burial 🙄
ynpriv actually after a few minutes i do love seeing the fade make a return 😍
landopriv thank god bc i was already dreaming about the nape scratches with ur nails 🤤
ynpriv i will still be holding a weeklong mourning period for the mullet 🤧
landopriv plenty of curls still on top of my head for you to pull
ynpriv have fun sleeping at alex’s
ılıılı Latch · Disclosure ft. Sam Smith
liked by maxfewtrell, ciscanorris1, adam_norris_pure_electric, and 1,694,065 others
lando happy anniversary, my love. i wish i wasn't away from you for so many days out of the year, so we could make memories like these more often. that's how i imagine our future. me and you, another cat and our first dog or two, and a few tiny humans that are the perfect blend of us—making an endless amount of memories together. i've loved you for another year, the woman who's my sole reason to live life to the fullest, and i can't wait to experience the rest of my years with you by my side.
view comments
maxfewtrell when did you become a poet mate?
lando p hasn't turned you into one yet?
pietra.pilao good question lando...
maxfewtrell 😬
keeganpalmer 🥂 to my parents (❤︎ by author)
username22 happy anniversary lando and belle 💛🧡
flo_norris_showjumping 🥹❤️ (❤︎ by author)
username23 her body coffee because tea ain't strong enough 🤏🏾
lando dw the british are still coming 🤤
username24 😵💫😵💫😵💫
username25 OVERLY HORNY
username26 omg she's so fucking beautiful man (❤︎ by author)
username27 a suspicious amount of white featured in this post...happy anniversary belle and lando 💛
riabish happy anniversary you two (❤︎ by author)
username28 oh he's in LOVE love. how many years, if you don't mind sharing lando?
lando we've been together for years
username28 but like how many tho? in numerals :)
lando about years i think
username28 boy fuck you 🙄
♡. 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐬 : Percy lives with his mother and works part-time, hoping one day he can give her a better life. It all starts to change a rainy day, when he meets you, a girl who lives in a world completely different from his own.
Percy Jackson had never thought much about what he didn’t have.
The apartment he lived in was small. The radiator clanked like it was fighting for it's life every winter. The wallpaper in the kitchen peeled near the sink, and the couch had a dip in the middle where he and his mom always ended up during movie nights.
It was home with those blue plastic tablecloths and pancakes on Sundays or his mom dancing with him in the kitchen to old songs on the radio, her hugging him before every shift and saying, “You and me, Percy. We’re doing just fine.”
And they were! There was laughter everyday and for the boy seeing his mom laugh was top tier importance.
Sally Jackson worked long shifts— café mornings and afternoons, working in a restaurant at night when she could get it— but she never let it show at home. She’d come in tired, her black hair slipping out of the clips, the apron wrinkled, and still smile like Percy was the best thing she’d ever seen.
Because to her, he was.
And to Percy? She was everything.
He learned early how to stretch things, to fix the cabinet door with a screwdriver or to make boxed mac and cheese taste gourmet with some extra pepper and a splash of milk. He also tried to pretend he didn’t notice when his mom skipped showers so he could have more.
He couldn't pretend anyway because he loved his mom too much.
So he got a part-time job as soon as he could— shelving books at a tiny independent shop a few blocks away. It didn’t pay much, but it helped. And he liked the smell of paper and ink and talking to the old man that ran it.
Their Friday tradition was sacred.
No matter how chaotic the week had been, Friday nights meant cheap takeout— usually pizza, sometimes Chinese if tips had been good— and a movie they’d already seen at least five times.
They’d sit cross-legged on the floor because the coffee table doubled as storage, and Sally would narrate scenes like she was in the film herself.
“Percy,” she’d say in an exaggerated tone, pointing at the screen, “if you ever fall in love, I hope she laughs at your jokes.”
“What if they’re not funny?”
“Oh honey,” she’d grin, “then she’s the one.”
The boy always rolled his eyes, but his cheeks would go pink.
He didn’t dream about mansions or sports cars or having a penthouse.
He just dreamed about stability. About one day buying his mom a place where the windows didn’t rattle, surprising her with a stove that didn’t need a match to light.
About maybe, someday, having enough that she wouldn’t have to work double shifts.
He also wasn’t bitter. He didn’t look at rich neighborhoods with envy. He just looked at them like they were another world— really shiny, distant, a life not built for people like him.
And that was fine.
Because he had Saturday mornings where he and his mom would walk to the farmer’s market before closing so vendors would sell produce cheaper. She’d squeeze peaches and hand him strawberries to taste, laughing when his cheek was stained.
He had love— unwavering, unembarrassed love.
The kind of love that didn’t need money.
Sometimes, when he lay in bed listening to the cars outside, Percy would think about how small their place was. Then he’d hear his mom moving around in the kitchen, singing to herself while she packed tomorrow’s lunch.
And he’d think: We’re okay. More than okay.
He didn’t know that somewhere across the city, in a house with marble floors and many empty rooms, a girl with everything would be wishing for exactly what he already had.
The first time Percy sees her, it’s raining.
Not the romantic kind of rain that's movie-like. More of an aggressive, strong wind, umbrella-flipping kind of rain.
He’s just finished his shift at the bookstore, with the hoodie pulled over his head, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He’s debating whether he can outrun the storm to the subway when he hears it—
A sharp, frustrated gasp.
He turns and there you are. Standing under the useless shelter of a bus stop sign holding an umbrella that has completely inverted, metal spokes sticking out like a spider. Your shoes— expensive-looking, cream-colored, not built for puddles— are soaked. Well, all you is soaked.
And you look… stunned, even a bit confused.
Percy shouldn’t stare but he does anyway because you don't look like someone who would walk around this part of the city.
You're dressed in soft, tailored clothes— not flashy, but they are the type of clothes that obviously cost more than his entire closet. Your hair is pinned back neatly, though the rain is slowly winning that battle. A leather bag hangs from your shoulder— real leather. He can tell.
And yet you're standing there alone with no driver, friends or someone rushing to the rescue as you mutter a curse under your breath, poking the broken umbrella as if it might fix itself.
Percy hesitates.
He doesn’t belong in your world... That much is obvious. You probably live in one of those buildings with doormen and polished brass handles and a lobby that smells like expensive candles!
But you looks so… lost.
And his mom didn’t raise him to ignore a lady in the rain.
So he jogs over.
“Uh,” he says, pushing his hood back, the rain instantly soaking into his curls. “You know you’re kind of fighting a losing battle there, right?”
You blink at him. Your eyes are bright and curious.
“Oh,” you say, looking at the umbrella somewhat embarrassed. “Is it that obvious?”
Percy grins. “I’d say once it turns into modern art, yeah.”
You look at him surprised but laugh like you found it hilarious. He feels his chest doing a flip.
“I didn’t check the weather,” you admit, glancing up at the sky. “I thought it would just be… light.”
“It’s never light,” Percy replies, trying to be calm and failing the next second. “This city's weather is like those London crime books.”
Another laugh comes out of you.
God, okay. He needs to calm down. “You waiting for the bus?” he asks.
“Yes, I didn’t know it only comes every thirty minutes.”
“Yeah,” he says. “Welcome to public transport.”
You tilt your head. “You say that like you’re the mayor of it.”
“I might be.”
He pulls his backpack off and digs around before pulling out a slightly dented but functional blue umbrella.
He opens it and holds it over both without really thinking about it and you step closer automatically. Suddenly you're standing under this small circle of dry space, shoulders nearly touching.
Up close, Percy notices you smell good too— not overpowering but likely those expensive colognes that are the perfect type of smell.
“You don’t have to—” you start when he pushes the umbrella for you to grab.
“It’s fine,” he shrugs. “I live like three blocks that way. The bus is probably more important for you.”
There’s something thoughtful in your expression at that.
“And where do you live?” you ask with curiosity.
He jerks his chin vaguely downtown. “Over the laundromat on 104th.”
He expects something to change in your face. Maybe pity, discomfort or even disgust. It would be normal since you look like a rich kid.
But it doesn't, instead you nod like he just said something important.
“That’s close to the little bookstore on the corner, right? With the crooked sign?”
He blinks. “Yeah. I work there.”
Your eyes light up. “You do? I love that place!”
He laughs. “You love that place?”
“Yes!! I like the smell of book paper and ink, but I never have time to go...”
He doesn’t know why his stomach mimics the flip his chest did 5 minutes ago. Were you hiding under a rock your whole life and have now decided to come out?
The bus headlights appear in the distance, cutting through the rain. You look at it and back at him.
“I’m glad it rained,” you say suddenly.
He raises an eyebrow. “Most people aren’t.”
“I wouldn’t have met you otherwise, funny guy.”
And Percy— who has faced broken radiators, overdue bills, and a lifetime of making do— finds himself utterly unprepared for one sweet girl in the rain.
The bus pulls up with a hiss. You hesitate before stepping on and then you turn around to give him your name.
“Percy,” he says.
“I know,” you reply with a small smile, glancing at the bookstore logo on his hoodie.
The doors close with the bus pulling away. And Percy stands there in the rain, without umbrella, heart doing wild things in his chest.
When he gets home, dripping wet and dazed, his mom looks up from the stove.
“You look like you saw a mythical creature,” she says.
The boy pauses next to the bathroom door. Maybe he did.
He sees you again three days later. He’s not expecting to but he's happy when your eyes find his. It’s Saturday afternoon, and the bookstore is slow. The bell above the door jingles, and Percy looks up automatically, opening his mouth to greet the customer.
There you are. Dry this time by the way.
Dressed in a soft and pale sweater with a neat skirt, some jewelry that probably costs a fortune... But you're smiling happily as if just walked into somewhere you love.
“Hi,” you say, moving a bit your hand.
Oh man, he forgets how to speak.
“You—” He clears his throat. “I see you survived the bus.”
“I did,” you reply gravely. “But it was harrowing.”
As you step further inside, you look around, getting some mystery books and pausing to read the back covers of those that did catch your attention before you talk once more.
“You really work here,” your eyes are still on the book as you put it back in place.
“Yep, I wasn’t lying.”
“I didn’t think you were.” You say while picking up a copy of Pride and Prejudice from Jane Austen, flipping it open.
“My mom used to read to me from this,” you say. “When she had time.”
“Mine reads everything out loud,” he says. “Even takeout menus. She loves making people laugh.”
Why was he talking to a pretty girl about his mom? Gods, he might be the worst on flirtin—.
Your smile widens, “I like her already,” you settle into the worn armchair by the window.
You talk between customers. About books at first, then the rainy day 3 days ago and where were you going and how you didn’t realize the bus schedule could ruin completely a day.
He finds out you live uptown, like, really uptown. He was right about thinking of you living in the kind of building with a lobby attendant and marble floors.
He tries not to picture it too clearly. For some reason he thinks for the first time ever in his life he might look like a homeless person to people like you.
He hates that the thought even crosses his mind.
He’s never been ashamed of where he lives, about the laundromat downstairs or the way the stairwell smells faintly like detergent and metal. He’s never cared that his sneakers are worn or that most of his clothes are secondhand.
But you’re standing there in really nice clothes and brand jewelry, talking about books, and suddenly he’s aware of how he might be looking like he cannot afford even some roses.
A customer wanders in, and Percy moves to help them, but he keeps glancing back at you like you might go if he doesn’t check. You don’t, you’re flipping through pages, legs tucked beneath you.
When the customer leaves, you look up.
“So,” you say casually, “what time do you get off?”
He hesitates. “Six.”
You nod. “Okay.”
“Okay…?”
You glance at your watch for a moment before looking up at the boy again. “I have to leave in a little while today, but I'd like to walk you home tomorrow.”
“What?”
You come back the next day.
Percy tells himself it’s more of a coincidence than a premeditated idea.. People find places they like and return to them. That doesn’t have to mean anything! The bookstore is quiet, tucked away and easy to miss unless you’re looking for it. Maybe he's falling in love with a performative rich girl !?
Then you come back the day after that.
And the day after that.
At first, you browse like any other customer. You look for a book, settle into the worn armchair by the window, knees tucked up slightly with the afternoon sunlight catching in your hair while you read. Every so often, you look up and ask him something— about a title, about an author, even why he shelved books by their color.
He answers every time since you have been walking with him back home.
Then one afternoon, you walk in holding two coffees. You just step up to the counter and place one near his elbow while he’s sorting receipts.
He glances at it, then at you before drinking.
It’s exactly how he likes it! Balanced, but sweet at the same time, with blue syrup. He doesn’t remember ever telling you that and he doesn’t ask how you knew because he doesn’t want to look like an idiot that forgets your conversations.
Another day, you bring a pastry folded in blue paper. You break it in half without asking and slide part of it toward him while he’s helping a customer. When he looks up, you’re already pretending to read the back cover of Journey to the Center of the Earth from Jules Verne, as if you haven’t been watching him the entire time.
He thinks you’re blushing behind the book but maybe it’s just hot inside. Perhaps he should turn the heating down a bit.
The third time, you bring nothing at all.
You sit on the counter while he reorganizes a display, careful not to knock anything over, your feet swinging slightly above the floor. You ask him why certain books are always moved to the front. You listen when he explains about how the sales and visibility and what customers gravitate toward.
Some afternoons you read for hours, only looking up when the bell above the door rings. Other days you talk about long dinners you’re expected to attend, about the rooms full of people who only know each other’s last names.
Percy likes to listen and he starts to expect you.
Around 15:50p.m, his focus shifts toward the door without meaning to. When the bell rings, his head lifts. When it isn’t you, something small inside him settles back down again.
When it is you, the entire room explodes in colors for the boy.
Even when you’re not speaking to him, he’s aware of you— the soft sound of a page turning where you sit, the way you lean your cheek against your hand when you’re thinking, or the faint tap of your shoe against the counter when you’re bored.
He really enjoys your company.
The bell above the bookstore door jingles at exactly 15:17 p.m.
Percy knows the time because he’s been checking the clock every five minutes since two. Not that he’s been waiting for you, buuut he's been waiting...
He’s reorganizing the mythology section for the third time this week when the door opens and even before he looks up, he knows it's you by the sound of those boots with heels you usually wear.
“Hi,” you say.
“Hey,” he says, trying for casual and landing somewhere around in love.
Still, today you seem a bit nervous. You don’t head for a book and the armchair but walk straight up to him.
Percy immediately becomes aware of everything— the way he’s holding the Odyssey book upside down, the dust on his clothes from cleaning and the fact that his hair is looking terrible today.
“You’re early,” he blurts out.
You blink. “Early?”
“For— I mean. You usually come closer to four.”
“Oh,” you say slowly. “So you do notice when I come in.”
He wants the floor to swallow him whole. Please, just let a black hole appear and swallow him whole!
“Well, you're a regular” he mutters weakly.
You step closer, and suddenly the space between you feels very small. The bookstore is quiet since there's no customers and the owner is out running errands.
You study him for a second like you’re working up to something.
“Percy,” you say.
The way you say his name should be illegal.
“Yeah?” “Are you ever going to ask me out?”
He blinks. “I— what?”
You cross your arms, not annoyed but definitely amused. “I very obviously like you.”
His brain short-circuits. “You— you do???”
You stare at him.
“Yes.” “Oh.”
He opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. Can his mouth just work???
You sigh softly, but you have a little smile on your lips.
“Okay,” you say with decision. “Let’s make this easier.”
You step even closer— close enough that he can see the tiny gold flecks in your eyes.
“Do you want to go on a date with me?” Direct and clear question with no games in between.
Percy’s face goes red instantly.
“A date?” he repeats, that word is foreign, he has NEVER gone to a date. He dedicates himself to studying and working to help his mother have it easier; he doesn't date.
“Yes. A date.” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. “You. Me. Intentionally spending time together with romantic implications.”
He makes a strangled sound and you can't help yourself but laugh.
“Perce.”
“I— I just didn’t think you’d want—” “Why wouldn’t I?”
He hesitates. The words hovering in his mind: You're rich and pretty and sweet and I’m a guy living on top of a laundromat.
Even if he doesn't say anything you can see it on his face.
“I don’t care about your status,” you reply even if he didn't open his mouth. “I like you.”
“You’re serious?” he asks.
“Yes.” “Like… really serious?”
You lean in slightly. “Perseus Jackson, I have been flirting with you for two weeks.”
His eyes widen. “That was flirting?”
You laugh again, shaking your head. “Yes. That was flirting.”
He runs a hand through his hair, still flushed. “I thought you were just…well, being nice?”
“I am nice,” you respond. “And I’m also asking you on a date.”
He looks at you and for once, instead of seeing the distance between your worlds, he just sees you waiting for an answer, you seem determined and bold, but your hands are also playing with each other and a slight blush is growing on your cheeks.
“I’d like that,” he says finally. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”
Your smile is slow and bright and victorious in the gentlest way.
“Good,” you say. “Saturday. You pick somewhere you like.”
“Somewhere I like?” “Yes. I want to see your world.”
“Okay,” he says, voice softer now. “I know a place.”
You nod, satisfied and then you lean forward and press a quick, soft kiss to his cheek.
Percy freezes, basically, you just made his whole system to shutdown. When you pull back, his face is glowing red.
“That,” you say lightly, “is motivation.”
You grab your leather bag and head for the door like you didn’t alter the chemical makeup of his entire being.
Percy spends all of Saturday morning pretending he’s not nervous. He cleans the apartment even though you’re not coming inside. He reorganizes the bookshelf and changes shirts three times before his mom finally leans against his bedroom door and says: “If you change one more time, I’m picking for you.”
He freezes mid-button. “I’m not nervous.”
“Of course you’re not,” Sally says sweetly. “You’ve only been pacing for twenty minutes.”
She walks over, fixing his collar gently, and smoothing his hair like she used to when he was little. “She likes you,” she keeps going. “You don’t have to impress her. Just be you.”
By the time he reaches the bookstore, you're there. Leaning against the brick wall outside, dressed simply— not in anything flashy or intimidating. A soft blue sundress and sneakers. You planned for walking.
When you spot him, your entire face lights up and Percy forgets every anxious thought he’s had all morning.
“You clean up nicely,” you start, pushing off the wall and walking toward him.
His brain malfunctions briefly. “I— uh. You look— I mean.. You always look—”
You smile and save him. “Thank you.”
There’s no awkward hovering or guessing. You step into his space and nudge his arm with yours. “So, where are you taking me?”
He swallows. “There’s this place by the river. It’s not fancy or anything... Just a food truck park and a walking path. But the view’s good.”
Your smile softens. “That sounds perfect.”
You start walking. At first, there’s that slight hyper-awareness— the knowledge that this is different. This is a date.
But it doesn’t take long before it feels like all the evenings you walked with him home after work, just… lighter.
You guys pass corner stores and street vendors. A man playing saxophone on the sidewalk. Kids chasing each other through a spray of water from a busted hydrant.
At one point Percy stops to buy a small teddy bear as a gift for you.
“You really like it here,” you mention as you hug the plushie.
“Yeah,” Percy admits. “It’s loud and kind of messy and sometimes smells weird, but… it’s nice.”
When you reach the food trucks, he relaxes a bit more. This is practically his territory! He knows which stand has the best fries and which one overloads the tacos in the best way.
He orders for them after checking what you like and sit on a low stone wall facing the river, city skyline stretching across the water. The breeze is warm, tugging at your hair a bit, and brushing against his collar.
For a while, you just eat and talk. About stupid things. About how Percy's mom was screaming like crazy about him having a date. About how your building has a lobby pianist on Thursdays and you've always found it vaguely unsettling.
“You have a lobby pianist?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Like… just sitting there?” “Yes!”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s insane.”
You grin. “You don’t treat me differently,”
He frowns. “How do you mean?”
“You don’t act impressed or intimidated or with respect.”
He snorts softly. “You brought me coffee for two weeks and I do respect you.”
You nudged him with the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
You finish eating and wander down the river path, slow and unhurried. The sun is dipping lower now, painting everything in gold and purple.
Your hands brush once. Then twice. The third time, you don't pull away. Instead, you lace your fingers through his and don’t let go. You've been waiting to be able to hold his hand. It’s really warm.
He looks down at your joined hands like he’s dreaming.
“You okay?” you ask, amused.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah. Just— wow.”
“You’re very red.” “I’m aware.”
You laugh softly and squeeze his hand.
You walk like that for a while, fingers still intertwined, the warmth of his hand against your own. The path along the river is calmer now, the late afternoon drifting gently toward evening and the sun hangs lower, spilling molten gold across the water, the boats that pass leave ripples that shimmer and dissolve behind them.
There's silence— not heavy, it's more like you both are waiting for something and any can make it happen— watching a small rowboat drift lazily across the water. The person inside rows unevenly, splashing more than gliding.
You tilt your head. “Have you ever done that?”
“Fallen in?” he replies.
“No. Gone out on one.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, I’ve thought about it, though.”
There’s a small dock ahead where rentals are offered. A wooden sign, a bored teenager behind a folding table, and a few rowboats bobbing gently against their ropes.
“Let’s do it,” you say suddenly.
He looks at you. “Do what?” “Get in a boat!”
He laughs softly, thinking you're joking, but you're turning toward the dock already, tugging him lightly along with you.
“Wait,” he says, stumbling a little. “Right now?”
“Why not?” your eyes bright in the fading light. “It’s still warm, it’s pretty and since we’re already here..”
He hesitates only for a second— not because he doesn’t want to, but because this feels spontaneous in a way he’s not used to. He’s always thinking about the money, calculating the costs of this things, weighing their practicality.
You step up to the folding table and asks for a boat. When the price is mentioned, Percy instinctively reaches for his wallet, but you're faster.
“I’ve got it,”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” you say. “Next time you can.”
Next time.
The words warm him more than the sunset.
A few minutes later, both of you are climbing carefully into a small rowboat that rocks slightly under the weight. Percy nearly loses his balance, and you laugh softly, steadying yourself with one hand on his arm.
“Okay,” he mutters, trying to look competent as he takes the oars. “I may have overestimated my boating abilities.”
“I have full faith in you,” you reply, settling onto the wooden seat across from him, knees brushing his.
He pushes off from the dock, and for a moment the boat wobbles uncertainly before gliding outward. The river opens around with the sounds of the city dulling and water reflecting streaks of orange and violet, the sky melting slowly into dusk. The gentle dip and pull of the oars create soft ripples that spread.
You just watch him row for a while, chin resting lightly in your hand, a small smile playing at the lips.
“What?” he asks eventually, self-conscious.
“Nothing, I just like looking at you when you’re focused.”
He nearly rows sideways and you grab his arm to steady you both.
Percy shakes his head, smiling despite himself, and slows once far enough from shore that the dock is just a small shape behind. He lets the oars rest and the boat drifts.
You reach out, fingers lightly tracing along the inside of his wrist, following the faint line of a vein there. It’s an absent gesture, thoughtful rather than bold.
“It’s peaceful out here,” you say softly.
“Yeah,” he agrees, voice quieter.
For a moment, neither of you speaks. The boat rocks gently beneath them, the water lapping faintly against the wood.
You look up at him then. “I’ve wanted to do this since the rain,”
“Get in a boat?” he asks.
You smile faintly. “No.”
Then you're leaning forward, close that he can feel her breath warm against his cheek.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” you say quietly, matching his voice.
He lifts his hand slowly, cupping your cheek with a touch so reverent it feels like he's touching a pearl. You lean into it immediately, your eyes softening.
The first brush of lips is tentative, like you both are confirming it’s real.
Then it deepens— not rushed or desperate — your lips are pressing with certainty and your hand slides into his hair, gentle as the boat rocks slightly with the shift in weight, but neither pulls away.
When you finally part, it's not far. Your foreheads rest together, breaths mingling, the river drifting quietly around with the sky darker now, the first city lights reflecting in broken lines across the water.
You smile against his mouth. “Worth it?”
He exhales softly, thumb brushing along your cheek.
“Yeah,” he says, voice low and sure. “More than worth it.”
♡ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
♡ 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⸝⸝ 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
💭 : Repost time as I work on my new fics! I got scared thinking I lost this oneshot request.
Did you notice that several books are mentioned throughout the one-shot? (Pride and Prejudice, Journey to the Center of the Earth, The Odyssey)
Random fact, those are some of my favorite books from when I was little, I wanted to add The Neverending Story but ended up choosing Pride and Prejudice. x) Also, the first idea was to make a reader who loves Jules Verne's stories because they're some of my favorite books lmaoo.
2025 : you're currently sick, but lando was hoping to stream; however, the boyfriend part of him can't leave you alone in your bedroom, so he comes up with an idea to have you join him in his stream. even if you're off camera.
lando norris x f!reader ୨୧ word count : 2.2k ୨୧ warnings : language, being sick (cold/flu), mentions of sex (but nothing happens), lando carries you at one point ୨୧ mdni ୨୧ requested: yes!
part of the lando's heart series.
lando was suppose to stream today. he had it all lined up for weeks now, planning to stream with max and connor. and you originally planned to stay in the living room, watching the great british baking show on netflix which is what you usually watched when lando streamed.
key word: originally.
because somehow over the last day you got sick. and it wasn't pretty. coughing, runny nose, body sore. lando was basically your nurse on demand. getting you medicine, checking your temperature, making you soup (making is a term used lightly). you looked and felt absolutely pitiful.
lando felt terrible because he hated seeing you in pain.
he was in the process of messaging max to cancel his plans as he sat next to you in bed. you, in a state of constant in and out of consciousness, eyes heavy as you just barely registered what was on his phone screen.
"hey," your voice is rough from the congestion, and it gains lando's attention immediately. your hand comes and smacks itself on top of lando's phone and weakly knocking it out of his hands and into his lap.
your boyfriend lets out a laugh at you before his hand comes up to brush the stray and bed-headed hairs out of your face. "i know what you're about to do..." you trail with a weak sigh, exhausted just from talking. "don't cancel your stream cause of me," you mumble with a pout as you move to rest your head against his arm.
"but baby, you don't feel good. i need to make sure you're alright," he says, looking down at you with soft eyes. you've closed your eyes, breath soft and a little nasally from your stuffy nose. and lando honestly think you fell asleep again.
but then you reopen your eyes with a huff, eyebrows furrowed, "please don't cancel it because of me. i'll be fine, i'll probably just be asleep anyways."
lando is about to say something to counter your words before he thinks of something. remembering that there's a way for him to possibly stream and keep an eye on you.
"what if you stay on your little sofa, off camera, while i stream?" he offers and you crane your neck to look up at him – eyes glassy and face looking flushed. "that way i'm right there if you need me," he adds.
you don't answer, instead laying your head back against his arm. "okay..." you manage out.
which is how you ended up laying on your small lounge sofa that sits in the corner of lando's office and next to his desk. you're lucky the little mauve pink sofa even managed to fit, but you knew with lando involved he was going to make it fit. he wanted you to have your own spot in every part of the apartment, even the places that you were perfectly fine not having a single thing in – aka his office.
you remember him insisting on it as he moved the little sofa into the office and basically rearranged the entire room. just for you. "i want you to be able to have a place to sit when i stream. you know... in case you want to sit with me and keep me company. you had never felt so special before and right after you both finished rearranging the office, you pushed him down onto your small sofa and rode him.
"you okay, pretty girl?" lando's voice is light in concern as he looks at you from his gaming chair. headset on as he's getting ready to turn his mic and camera on to start.
you nod your head, giving him a thumbs up as you try to not think about all the times he's fucked you on this sofa. you let out a sigh as you reached for your airpods, sticking one in as you fiddled with your ipad, opening netflix before putting on... yeah, you guessed it: the great british baking show.
you should really learn how to bake, you think as the show's opening music fills your right ear. you adjust yourself, upper body sinking into the plush cushions of the sofa as you pull the hood of lando's hoodie up. the scent of his cologne just faintly filling your clogged senses and it brings you a sense of comfort.
"if you need anything let me, okay?" he adds after having watched you get comfortable.
"okay," you breathe out softly right before lando is turning his camera on and immediately talking to max, connor, and chat.
"now quick disclaimer," lando begins as his eyes flicker over to you, who is already slowly dozing off. "but y/n is with us today– no, chat she is not coming on camera so don't even ask," he deadpans when he already sees the messages flooding in at the news of you being there.
he leans back in his chair, arms folding behind his head as he continues, "she's not feeling well right now, so she's just going to lay down and relax." he watches as messages of 'get well soon's flooded the chat. then one message catches his attention:
lando is part time f1 driver and full time boyfriend
he reads it out loud and can't help but laugh at it, "yeah... you're not wrong," he says as his eyes drift over to you once more. your eyes are closed, mouth parted just a little and he tries to bite back the smile that overtakes him.
the stream then proceeds as usual, him bantering back and forth with max over something stupid one of them did. him spending too much time trying to get his inventory organized. he's, for the most part, fully focused on his game; however, viewers can't ignore how his eyes flicker to somewhere off camera whenever you move. eyes focused on you to make sure you don't suddenly need anything.
at one point, you had dozed off long enough for a few episodes of your show to autoplay which prompted netflix to ask 'are you still watching?' and of course you don't realize this until the ipad's screen goes black. you don't know how long you were out, stretching a little bit as you let out a weak groan before you're trying to unlock your ipad.
but the damn thing just won't unlock and your eyes are too tired to let you put in the correct passcode. you let out a small whine of annoyance before you're calling out, "landooooo," softly as you drag his name out.
lando looks over to you, your voice just faintly being picked up by his mic and chat immediately screaming about how cute you sound.
STOP THAT WAS SO CUTE 😭😭😭
nooooooo she really is sick, poor thing
omg the way she calls for lando was kind of cute
"what's wrong, baby?" he asks sliding closer to you, just out of frame as you weakly hand him your ipad.
"unlock it please," you say, and lando lets out a small chuckle before he's taking the ipad and doing what you ask. and since he's such an amazing boyfriend – his words, not yours – he goes ahead and hits continue for the next episode to play.
"need anything else?" he asks, voice soft as his hand rubs your calf over the blanket, giving it a comforting squeeze.
"no, thank you," you say, before blowing him a kiss and he grins at you before catching it and pressing his hand to his lips.
he then slides back into view and continues the stream. "is y/n okay?" max asks once lando gets settled again.
"yeah, she's good, just needed help unlocking her ipad," he lets out with a small laugh as they start the next round in their game.
you snuggle back into the cushions, feeling a slight hot flash come over you and you reach for your water bottle that was nearby before pressing the cold metal against your cheek. the coldness helps the hot flash settle as you unconsciously cuddle with it as you watch the bakers compete during bread week.
about thirty minutes later and you're knocked out against. the mixture of the show combined with lando's voice is what lulls you to sleep. when he glances over, he can't help but smile at how cute you look despite knowing you don't feel good. lando just thinks you constantly look cute, he can't help it.
when you wake up suddenly, you are awoken with a coughing fit. you hold your water bottle tightly to your chest as you sit up, coughing into your arm. your sudden coughing cuts lando off from what he was saying as he turns to look at you, the camera catching his look of concern that overtakes him.
BRO THATS A NASTY COUGH
is she okay????
oh god she's sick sick 😭😭😭
after a few seconds, you finally stop and you take the moment to get a drink of your water before falling back into the cushion of the sofa.
"you still alive?" he asks, trying to keep the mood light despite being a little worried.
"barely," you say, tone tired and just slightly amused.
he let's out a laugh under his breath, "yeah?" you let out a hum, shifting just enough to get comfortable again. "you need anything?" he repeats his question from earlier and you shake your head.
"no..." you trail off not because you wanted to say more, but because of just how tired you sounded – despite having been sleeping for most of the day.
lando looks at you for a second longer before nodding and once again going back to his game. max making a comment about lando sucking at the game which just made the f1 driver roll his eyes and say something back in response.
"i'm gonna end it soon, so i can get y/n to bed properly. she's due to take her medicine again anyways," lando says, by this point he's been almost streaming for three hours and you were once again beginning to doze off.
take care of your girl lando
hope she gets better soon!!
tell her we love her pls 🙏
however, instead of watching your baking show, you were instead watching him. heart beating a little faster whenever he laughed or smiled at something max or connor said that you couldn't hear.
"chat says they love you and hope you get better soon," he says, eyes meeting yours and smile on his lips as he gets ready to end the stream.
"love you, chat!" you shout loud enough for his mic to catch and lando laughs at how strained your voice sounds.
"alright, bye guys," lando says before officially ending the stream and also saying bye to max and connor for the night. "the guys hope you get better soon," he adds and you give him a finger heart as another coughing fit comes on.
your boyfriend is quick to turn his stuff off before he gets up from his chair and comes closer to you. he gently takes your ipad and water bottle from your lap and puts them on his desk before he wraps his arms around you and picks you up.
you immediately rest your head against his chest as he carries you out of his office and down the hall to your shared bedroom. "my poor princess, let's get you to bed," he says, kissing your forehead before he's laying you down. "do you want something to eat?"
the thought of eating honestly didn't sound all that pleasant at the moment, so you just shake your head as you settle into bed. pulling the covers up to your chin as lando's hand comes up to feel your forehead.
"still a little warm, want a wet cloth?"
"yes, please," you say and he nods before leaving the room. a minute, maybe three passes before he comes back with a cloth, your water bottle, and medicine.
"take this and then you can go to sleep," he says and you easily take the medicine before putting your water bottle back on your bedside table.
"are you going to lay down with me?" you ask softly, glassy eyes looking up at him as he sits at the edge of the bed. he puts the wet cloth on your forehead, the coldness sending a pleasant chill over your body.
"give me an hour and i'll come to bed, okay?" you nod your head before lando is leaning over and kissing the crown of your head. he takes your airpod out, that you completely forgot you had in, and sets it on your bedside before he's getting up and walking out of the room once more.
you don't know what he does, but by the time lando is coming to bed, you've already dozed back off – laying on your side, cloth still halfway clinging to your forehead. and lando tries hard not to laugh, not wanting to wake you up. when he does climb into bed, arms wrapping around you, lando feels your whole body relax in his embrace.
"i love you, princess, i hope you feel better soon," he mumbles quietly as he closes his eyes and lets sleep overtake him like it finally has for you.
every time he almost said it - lo’ak sully x reader
: ˚⋆✮ in which: lo’ak spends years loving you quietly and finally stops being afraid.
: ˚⋆✮ a/n: neteyam version soon (unless this does terrible)
lo’ak was a lot of things. he was impulsive, emotional, fuelled by a need to prove himself.
you knew this of course; you’d been friends for years.
but unfortunately for you, he wasn’t… direct. and for so long he had been pining after you.
he just couldn’t bring himself to actually ask you out.
he had tried before, though.
: ˚⋆✮
attempt 1: age 11
lo’ak crouched behind a bush gripping a flower crown he’d carefully woven the day before, when you told him you loved jasmine. his heartbeat raced as his hands shook when you appeared in front of him.
“lo’ak?” you exclaimed, confused on why he was on the floor
he rose quickly “i made this. for you, i mean” he stammered.
he didn’t even register your reaction, completely missing the broad smile that struck your face before he bolted out the forest.
you laughed softly, clutching the crown in your hand. confused, but touched.
when you wore it the next day, his heart skipped a beat. you sat down next to him and smiled at each other.
neither of you talked about it.
: ˚⋆✮
attempt 2: age 12
“y’know” he mumbles one day, sitting beside you at the riverside “if anyone tried to be close to you, they’d regret it” he nudges you with his elbows, smirking like he’s joking around.
both of you feel he’s lying.
he frowns slightly when he notices that all you do is roll your eyes in false ignorance.
but he stays close, before taking a deep breath and wrapping his arm around your shoulder.
neither of you talk about the way both of you blushed violently and leaped apart whenever anyone walked past.
: ˚⋆✮
attempt 3: age 13
he was helping you practice your archery, not that you needed too much help. it was an excuse to spend time with each other.
“listen, look at your posture, lift that arm” he instructs, before sighing helplessly.
“you aren’t doing it right, c’mere” he says softly, grabbing your waist with one hand as his other reaches to your arm.
“it’s too low here” he pushes your arm up slightly, putting you in a more comfortable position. his breath fans on your neck, the gesture looking purely professional from afar.
turning your head, you meet his eyes. lo’ak takes a deep breath, blush creeping up his neck as he abruptly moves back.
“well, shoot then” he remarks, shifting the atmosphere from tense back to normal.
at least as normal as it gets with you and him.
you let go of the bow, arrow flying right into one of the targets he had set up.
“come on y/n! see, this is why i like you-“ he blurts out, leaving the both of you with your mouth agape, staring at each other.
he blushes violently before scoffing “not like that, obviously”
you laugh before shoving him whilst he murmurs about ‘stupid feelings’
but you can’t ignore the sparkle in your eyes as he rambled, desperately trying to take back his previous words.
: ˚⋆✮
attempt 4: age 14
lo’ak had this whole thing planned out. he had a necklace in his hands that he had made for you, specifically. a small bouquet of the night-jasmines you said you liked years ago and a fully rehearsed speech.
he stood near your tent, not too close that your family could see but not too far that you would be uncomfortable being deep in the forest too late at night. its not long before he hears footsteps, turning with a smile on his face before he realises who it was.
neteyam.
“what are you doing here, skxawng?” he’d question, as lo’ak sputters.
“nothing” he says too quickly, hiding his hands behind his back.
neteyam laughs lightly before connecting the dots, giving lo’ak a pat on his shoulder “there’s better ways to do this little bro” he smirks, before leaving the scene.
lo’ak scoffs, but the moment is gone.
again, tonight was not the night.
but then you appear.
you knock the breath out his lungs, making him forget what he’s doing.
“lo’ak? why are you here” you ask gently, assessing his body language.
he thinks about doing it. telling you he’s been in love with you for years.
but he just can’t.
“nothing.” he sighs “i’ll see you tomorrow tanhì.” he offers a reassuring smile before walking away.
he doesn’t realise he’s dropped the necklace until he’s at home.
: ˚⋆✮
attempt 5: age 15
lo’ak had been pacing.
the two of you were older now. you had grown into a gorgeous, intelligent young woman.
to him, you had always been so. but now you were catching the eye of multiple boys around your age.
lo’ak didn’t mind, since he knew you two were best friends and even if he wished you were more, your bond was unconditional.
until that day, lo’ak had heard rumours. about you being asked out.
and suddenly he’d began reflecting on every single time he’d tried to tell you how he felt, and how he failed so miserably.
he knew that if not now, he wouldn’t get the chance again.
so when he cornered you at the riverside, he confessed everything.
“listen. y/n listen to me, please” his voice cracked as he pleaded.
you nod as your heart pounds, clinging on to his every word.
“i don’t know if- if this is too late or something. but i’ve been in love with you since we were 10. and i’ve tried to tell you, i swear! but every time i just, i don’t know” he pauses to look in your eyes “i get all scared, that i’d lose you. so, if you don’t reciprocate any of this, then just… walk away and we can pretend this never happened.” he rambles, waving his hands around erratically.
you grab his hand delicately, bringing it against your chest as you speak gently “calm down, lo’ak”
he instantly softens, listening to you intently.
“i’ve been yours since that stupid flower crown” you declare, tears escaping your eyes. “i was waiting for you to finally man up and tell me you’re mine.”
he moves forward, ever so slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he caresses your cheek, rubbing away your tears.
you grab his shoulders, moving your hands upwards to his cheeks before closing the distance between you two.
he kisses you softly but hungrily, years of pent-up feelings erupting as you feel the heat seeping from his body.
when you finally push away, you both smile softly.
“i have that necklace from last year” you giggle “that time you were outside my tent, remember?”
he laughs, “yeah i remember yawne.” he murmurs “keep it, it was always meant for you.”
One moment you’re laughing, teasing Neteyam about how serious he looks on patrol, the next the water around you changes.
Not temperature.
Not movement.
Color.
It blooms from your side in a slow, terrifying cloud,dark, curling, wrong.
Neteyam feels it before he sees it.
Before your breath stutters, before your hand moves instinctively to your ribs, he senses the shift in the water, the way everything goes tense and still.
He turns.
And sees red.
His heart slams so hard it feels like it punches air from his lungs.
“Y/N.”
Your name leaves him sharp. Not loud. Dangerous.
You open your mouth to answer,and instead a broken breath slips out.
Neteyam is on you instantly.
His hands find you, one at your back, the other at your side. Warm. Steady. Then,
Wet.
Too wet.
His fingers come away stained.
His pupils blow wide.
“What happened?” he demands.
“I, I don’t know,” you whisper. “Something sharp. I didn’t see,”
He doesn’t let you finish.
He pulls you closer, eyes scanning the water, the reef, the shadows beyond.
“Stay with me,” he orders, voice low and fierce. “Look at me.”
You do.
And your chest tightens at what you see there.
Fear.
Real fear.
“Neteyam,” you murmur. “It’s not,”
“Quiet,” he says immediately, pressing his forehead to yours underwater, forcing you to anchor. “Breathe. Slow. Now.”
You try.
“In,” he counts.
“Out.”
Your breathing shakes, but you follow.
His hand presses harder to your side. You feel the sting now. The warmth spreading.
Blood.
There is blood in the water.
Neteyam’s jaw tightens so hard it aches.
He glances once,just once,into the open reef.
Then he moves.
He pulls you against him and swims, fast and controlled, every movement precise, powerful. You cling to him, one arm looped around his neck.
Your vision blurs,not from water, but from the way your body is suddenly heavy.
“Stay awake,” Neteyam murmurs. “Stay right here. With me.”
“I am,” you whisper.
“You are,” he agrees. “You will keep being.”
The surface breaks.
Neteyam hauls you up onto a flat stone ledge near the reef, laying you down carefully. Too carefully for how fast his heart is beating.
The wound is along your side,jagged, not deep enough to kill, but deep enough to bleed freely.
Neteyam’s breath stutters.
“Oh, Eywa…” he whispers.
He presses his hand harder against it without thinking.
You hiss. “Neteyam,”
“I know,” he says quickly. “I know, I’m sorry,just,”
He tears his eyes away from the red and looks at your face instead.
“Talk to me,” he says. “Say anything.”
You manage a weak smile. “You’re… really bad at staying calm.”
His eyes flash. “I am calm.”
You let out a tiny huff. “You’re shaking.”
He looks down.
He is.
His hands are steady where they matter, but his arms,his shoulders,his breath,he’s trembling like a pulled bowstring.
Neteyam swallows. “You are bleeding.”
“Yes,” you whisper. “But I’m not dying.”
“Do not say that,” he snaps instantly.
You reach up, fingers brushing his wrist. “Neteyam.”
He stills.
“Look at me,” you say softly.
He forces his eyes back to yours.
“I’m here,” you continue. “I’m talking. I’m breathing. I’m with you.”
His jaw tightens. “You are hurt.”
“I am,” you agree. “And you are helping me.”
He exhales sharply through his nose. “I should have seen it. I should have been closer. I should have,”
You cut him off. “No.”
“No?” he echoes, disbelieving.
“This was an accident,” you say. “Not a failure.”
His eyes darken. “You were under my watch.”
“And under your watch, I am alive,” you reply gently.
He stares at you.
“You got me out,” you continue. “You’re here. You’re stopping the bleeding. That matters.”
Neteyam’s voice drops, rough. “I almost lost control.”
You blink. “What?”
“When I saw the blood,” he admits. “I wanted to hunt whatever did this. I wanted to tear the water apart until it gave me something to punish.”
His hands tighten, then loosen. “I almost left you to do it.”
Your chest tightens. “But you didn’t.”
“No,” he says. “Because then I really would have lost you.”
You hold his gaze. “Neteyam… thank you for staying.”
His breath shudders. “There was never a choice.”
He tears a strip of cloth from his own sash, packing it gently against the wound, binding it with practiced hands.
“Tell me if it’s too tight,” he murmurs.
“It’s okay,” you whisper. “It helps.”
He nods once, focused, controlled again.
When he finishes, he doesn’t pull away.
He leans his forehead against yours.
“I cannot…” His voice falters. He tries again. “I cannot watch you bleed and remain who I am supposed to be.”
Your throat tightens. “You’re not supposed to be unfeeling.”
“I am supposed to be steady,” he counters.
“You were,” you say. “You just felt too.”
He closes his eyes briefly. “I was so afraid.”
You reach up and cup his cheek. “You still are.”
“Yes,” he admits. “Because if I lost you… I do not know who I would become.”
Your voice is quiet. “Then don’t lose me.”
His eyes open.
“I won’t,” he says, like a vow. “I will not.”
You let out a slow breath. “Then come closer.”
He hesitates only a second before carefully shifting, pulling you against his chest, mindful of the injury.
Your head rests over his heart.
It’s racing.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “If I hurt you when I pressed.”
“You didn’t,” you murmur. “You saved me.”
His arms tighten around you. “You are not allowed to scare me like that.”
You manage a weak laugh. “I’ll try to schedule my injuries better.”
He lets out a breath that’s half a laugh, half a broken sound. “Do not joke.”
“I’m alive,” you whisper. “I can joke.”
He exhales slowly, pressing his cheek to your hair.
“Stay still,” he murmurs. “Let me carry you home.”
You close your eyes. “Okay.”
Neteyam gathers you up carefully, holding you close, turning so his body shields you from the open reef.
As he steps back into the water, his voice is low, fierce, and shaking with something deeper than fear.
“There is no part of me that would survive a world without you.”
You rest against him, heart steadying.
“Then don’t let one exist,” you whisper.
And Neteyam carries you through the water like the only thing that matters.
Neteyam and Reader argue but reader accidentally flinches plss
The Flinch
Pairing: Neteyam x Reader
Word Count:1005
Request open!
Neteyam Masterlist
Neteyam Playlist
“You cannot just leave,” Neteyam says, voice tight.
You spin back toward him, heat rising in your chest. “I can if I need space!”
The marui feels smaller than it should. The air is warm, heavy with the leftover tension of the day. His bow is leaned neatly by the doorway,too neat, like he’s trying to control everything that can be controlled.
Including you.
Neteyam’s ears flick back. “Space is not running into the forest alone when it is dark.”
“I am not a child,” you snap.
His jaw clenches. “I did not call you a child.”
“You don’t have to,” you say, voice shaking. “You just,look at me like I’m about to break.”
Neteyam exhales hard, like he’s forcing his temper into a smaller shape. “Because you keep taking risks like they do not matter.”
“They matter,” you bite out. “I matter. I just don’t want to live like I’m trapped.”
Neteyam steps closer. “No one is trapping you.”
You laugh, bitter. “Then stop standing in the doorway like a guard.”
His eyes flash. “I am protecting you.”
“I didn’t ask to be protected every second of the day,” you fire back.
Silence stretches for a beat,thin and sharp.
Neteyam’s voice drops. “You did not grow up here. You do not understand what hunts the dark.”
“And you don’t understand what it’s like to have someone decide your fear is more important than your choices,” you shoot back.
Neteyam stiffens. “That is not what I’m doing.”
“It is,” you insist, stepping forward, refusing to be small. “You keep saying it’s ‘for my safety’ but it feels like you don’t trust me to exist without you hovering.”
Neteyam’s nostrils flare. “That is not fair.”
You throw your hands up. “There! That word again.”
Neteyam’s tone sharpens, frustration cracking through the control. “Because it’s true,”
He gestures with his arm, quick and emphatic.
Not toward you.
Not at you.
Just too fast, too sudden,an old motion in the shape of a threat your body remembers even when your mind doesn’t want to.
You flinch.
It’s small. Instinctive. Ugly in its honesty.
Your shoulders jerk. Your eyes squeeze shut for half a second.
And the whole world stops.
Neteyam freezes like you’ve struck him.
His arm drops immediately. His face drains,shock, then horror, then something like grief.
“…” He swallows. “No.”
You open your eyes, chest heaving, heart pounding hard enough to hurt.
You hate yourself for it. Hate the way your body betrayed you. Hate the way shame floods your throat.
“I’m,” you start, voice cracking. “I’m sorry, I didn’t,”
Neteyam’s eyes shine. “No,” he says again, softer this time. “Do not apologize.”
You laugh shakily, looking away. “It’s fine.”
“It is not fine.” His voice is quiet now, shaken. “You flinched.”
You press your palm to your forehead like you can push the moment back into your skull and erase it. “It was nothing.”
Neteyam steps closer,slow, careful, like you’re a wounded animal and he’s terrified to spook you.
“It was not nothing,” he whispers. “Did I… did I scare you?”
The answer is lodged in your ribs, tangled with a past you don’t like to bring into the light.
“I didn’t mean to,” you say, because it’s easier than explaining. “My body just,”
“Y/N,” he says gently, like he’s handling something sacred. “Tell me.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. “Before you… before here. Yes. Not, not you. Never you.”
Neteyam’s ears flatten completely. He looks like he wants to tear the world apart with his bare hands.
Then, like the strength leaves him, he lowers himself to sit,right there on the woven floor,so he’s not towering over you.
“I would never,” he says, voice rough. “I would cut off my own hand first.”
“I know,” you whisper, and it comes out broken.
Neteyam holds his palms up in front of him,open, visible. “May I come closer?”
You hesitate, then nod.
He inches forward until he’s near your knees, still not touching. “I am sorry,” he says quietly. “For raising my arm. For letting my anger move faster than my care.”
You swallow hard. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I did,” he insists, eyes locked on yours. “If it made you afraid.”
“I wasn’t afraid of you,” you say quickly. “I was afraid of… memory.”
Neteyam’s gaze softens, devastatingly tender. “But it happened in front of me. That means I must be careful with you. Always.”
You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t want you walking on eggshells.”
“I do not see you as fragile,” he says firmly. “I see you as someone who survived.”
Your eyes sting. “Neteyam…”
He reaches out slowly, stopping a hand’s breadth away. “May I hold your hand?”
“Yes,” you whisper.
His fingers wrap around yours,warm, steady, grounding.
“I am still angry,” he admits, voice low. “But not at you.”
“Then at what?” you ask, hoarse.
“At the fact that someone taught your body to expect pain,” he says simply. “At the fact that you carry that.”
You stare at him, tears slipping free.
Neteyam squeezes your hand gently. “When we argue… I will keep my hands calm. I promise.”
You nod. “And I’ll tell you when I need space without… running.”
He gives a small, tired smile. “Good.”
You sniffle. “You’re still annoying.”
Neteyam huffs a quiet laugh. “Yes.”
You sink down to sit with him, shoulder to shoulder.
He leans his forehead against yours. “You are safe with me.”
You close your eyes. “I know.”
“And if my voice ever becomes too sharp,” he adds, “you tell me. I will stop.”
You whisper, “Okay.”
A beat.
Then Neteyam murmurs, almost shy, “Can we start again?”
You wipe your face. “Start what again?”
“The argument,” he says, and his mouth twitches. “But… softer.”
You laugh through your tears. “Okay.”
Neteyam exhales, relief loosening his shoulders. “Okay.”
And this time, when he speaks, his hands stay still,like his love is louder than his anger.
Hello! Would you please write Neteyam being extra soft with one the clan girls and people start to notice? Maybe everyone else is given tough orders but when it comes to her he’s so gentle and soft spoken. He takes extra time showing her how to hunt and shares his food with her. everyone complains that he babies her and lets her get away with shit but it’s just his way of caring for the girl he wants to become his mate 💘💘🤭
a/n: this is so cute, even though everyone around them’s def gonna be annoyed at his obvious display of favoritism -oops
synopsis: neteyam’s only soft when it comes to you.
You messed up… badly. Some might argue otherwise, but the majority of the hunting party understood that your mistake could’ve cost lives. Your moment of hesitation while facing a thanator could’ve gotten you—and possibly others—killed.
But Neteyam, the one leading the hunt, the same one who’d protected you and scared the beast away, let you off with a simple ‘are you hurt?’ and ‘be careful’. That’s it. No reprimand, no lecture; no nothing—surprising the rest of the hunters, which also made you wonder what you’d done to earn his good graces.
You’d been too spooked to properly think about it that time, but now, as you sit in the quiet comfort of the village center, your mind races with possibilities. Neteyam is seated next to you, presence grounding as his tail curls low against the ground, swaying at a languid pace in the dark.
“Are you okay? After what happened before?” he asks for the second time tonight.
“Yes,” you answer, a little unsure of yourself under his attention. You fiddle with your hands, looking at anywhere but him. It’s ridiculous. You and Neteyam know each other. You shouldn’t be nervous around him.
And he shouldn’t treat you differently when you’re under his command. It’s not right… You frown. People are starting to talk. But then why does your stomach traitorously flutter at the thought of his soft demeanor towards you?
People look, eyes subtly wandering to the spot where you sit with the Olo’eyktan, and instead of pulling away, he shifts closer, causing you to blush without warning when he tilts his head forward to find your eyes.
You do not hold his gaze for long, looking away after only a few seconds. Suddenly the fire’s a lot more interesting than it should be.
“Here. I brought you this. It might make you feel better,” he offers, extending his hand towards you, and in it is food, the one processed from your hunt earlier. It’s wrapped in some leaves that preserves its warmth, no doubt prepared by his mother.
She always jokes that her son spoils you too much, that you shouldn’t mind the way he babies you more than necessary, but you’re now starting to see some truth in her words.
“It was your first time handling a thanator. You did well,” Neteyam says, unwrapping a portion of the leaf. He picks off a small bite of his own, tearing a piece of tender meat into his mouth.
“I would hardly call it that,” you argue, taking the meal from his hands. You’re well aware of how close the two of you are sitting, and how the intimate act of sharing food looks to the people who see. But with the whispers going around, you can hardly care anymore.
“Alright. We’ll talk about something else then,” Neteyam suggests. He starts going on about the patch of flowers he found on patrol yesterday, then about the kid who almost accidentally stabbed his leg with a sharp stick during training. And as more and more people pass by—side-eyeing hard—you can’t help but let out a giggle.
“What’s so funny?” He pauses mid-sentence, looking around. His ears twist to the sound of another laugh coming from you.
You snicker, tail twisting gleefully against your seat. “It’s nothing.”
How it feels to stumble upon an author who writes a scrumptious fanfic of a character you’re obsessing/hyper fixating on and on top of that they have a master list FULL of fics dedicated to them
summary: jake gets cuteness agression when you do human things.
...
The first time he does it, you genuinely think it’s some kind of signal.
You’re standing beside him at the edge of the training grounds, the wind warm against your skin, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant salt. He’s half-turned away, speaking to one of the younger warriors, but then his eyes flick to you. Bright. Soft. Focused in that way that always makes your chest feel… strange.
And then he lifts his hand.
Two fingers press to his lips.
He flicks them outward toward you.
You freeze.
Your ears twitch slightly, eyes narrowing as you track the motion. It’s small. Almost careless. But deliberate.
A message.
It has to be.
You step closer once he’s done talking, your tail flicking slowly behind you.
“What was that?” you ask, voice calm, but your gaze sharp. “Your hand movement.”
Jake blinks once, then twice.
“…What?”
“You touched your mouth and pushed the air,” you say, demonstrating it with exact precision, though yours looks more like a ritual than anything soft. “Was it a sign? A warning?”
There’s a pause. He laughs.
Not loudly. Not mockingly. Just this warm, helpless sound that curls around you like sunlight.
“No, no—” he rubs the back of his neck, grinning now, a little sheepish. “It’s not a warning.”
You tilt your head. “Then what purpose does it serve?”
He steps closer to you, lowering his voice like it’s something private now.
“It’s called a flying kiss.”
You repeat it slowly. “A… flying… kiss.”
“Yeah.” His eyes soften. “It’s—uh… humans do it. When you can’t… you know.” He gestures vaguely between you. “Be close. You send a kiss instead.”
You stare at him.
Unblinking.
Processing.
“So…” you say carefully, “you were pretending to kiss me. From a distance.”
His grin widens. “Pretty much.”
You consider that. The logic. The intention.
“…Why?”
That catches him off guard for a second..
“Because I wanted to,” he says simply.
Silence settles between you.
Your gaze drops briefly to his mouth, then back to his eyes.
...
The battle against the Sky People had been fierce.
Na’vi warriors falling and rising again with desperate courage. Jake Sully had led them well. He had flown like the wind on his ikran, coordinated strikes that turned the tide, and stood tall even when his human body felt the phantom ache of old wounds back in the link chamber.
Now, the afterparty pulsed with relief and victory. Torches of glowing fungi and woven lanterns cast soft teal and violet light across the clearing. Drums thrummed low and steady, mixing with the high, melodic songs of the People. Warriors painted in fresh victory streaks of white and ochre danced and laughed. Children darted between legs, chasing sparks from celebratory fires.
You stood a little apart from the thickest crowd, arms crossed loosely over your chest. our skin, a deep teal-blue marked with elegant, swirling stripes that caught the light like liquid moonlight, shimmered faintly. Your queue swayed gently behind you as you shifted weight from one bare foot to the other.
Jake spotted you immediately.
He looks at you from a distance, a grin already tugging at his lips, the adrenaline of battle still singing in his veins.
You turned your head at him. Your golden eyes met his, bright, intelligent, and currently set in a serious, almost stern line. Your face was blank, mouth neutral, ears tilted forward in focused attention. No smile. No softening. Just that piercing, unreadable stare.
Jake’s thoughts faltered for half a second.
Shit. Is she mad? The thought hit him hard. Had he done something during the fight? Put someone at risk? Spoken too harshly in the heat of it? You had fought beside him, fierce and graceful with your bow, but maybe something had crossed a line he didn’t see.
you held his gaze a moment longer, then slowly, deliberately, raised your right hand. Your fingers curled gracefully, index and middle extended in the gesture he had shown you once before.
This was serious.
Your wrist flicked with control. The motion was sharp, almost commanding, as if you were launching not just affection but a vow, a seal of pride and claim all at once. Your eyes never left his. No smile broke your expression. Your ears remained forward, focused. The “kiss” sailed through the air between you with solemn intent.
Jake stared.
A surprised laugh burst out of him, deep and genuine, rumbling from his chest. His shoulders shook. His grin split wide.
“Oh my God” he managed between chuckles.
Your expression didn’t change.
Jake felt it then. the sudden, overwhelming rush of cuteness aggression. It hit him square in the chest, warm and ridiculous and so human it almost hurt in the best way. You, this fierce na’vi warrior who had just helped win a battle against impossible odds, standing there with that strict, blank face, delivering the most dead serious flying kiss in the history of Pandora like it was a sacred ritual.
Without thinking, he lifted his right hand and sent a flying kiss, quick and playful, fingers flicking toward you like he was launching a spark into the air. Then another, and another, each one more exaggerated than the last. with 'mwah' sounds.
He blew four in quick succession, his grin wide and boyish.
You blinked, ears twitching forward in surprise as the invisible kisses sailed toward you one after another. Your strict expression faltered for half a second, golden eyes widening just a fraction.
A laugh bursts out of him again, sudden and bright and completely unrestrained. He drops his head for a second, shaking it like he can’t believe you, like something about you just hit him too hard all at once.
“Jesus…” he mutters under his breath, grinning like an idiot now.
There’s something softer underneath it, though. Something almost dangerous in how much he feels it.
He looks back up at you, eyes a little wild, a little too warm.
“C’mere,” he says, not loud, but certain. Like you will.
Like you always do.
And when you don’t move right away, when you just keep standing there, watching him with that same steady, unreadable gaze, he exhales a quiet laugh, softer this time.
“Don’t do that to me,” he adds, half under his breath. “Not from all the way over there…”
But he’s already moving toward you anyway.
i’m lonely, sue me ! @softforbuckydotcom - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
