🧡 ᴜɴᴘʟᴀɴɴᴇᴅ — ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 27: ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀᴅᴅᴏᴄᴋ ᴡʜɪꜱᴘᴇʀ 🧡
ꜰ1 x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪꜱ ᴀᴜ | ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ + ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀ
⚠️ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:
ᴏɴɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴄʀᴜᴛɪɴʏ
ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ ɪɴ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴛʀɪᴍᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ (ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛᴡɪɴꜱ)
ᴍɪʟᴅ ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ (ᴋɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ, ᴛɪʀᴇᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ, ʟᴇɢ ᴇʟᴇᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ)
ᴅɪꜱᴄᴜꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴍᴍᴏᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ
ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴠᴜʟɴᴇʀᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ (ᴀᴅᴊᴜꜱᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ᴠɪꜱɪʙɪʟɪᴛʏ, ᴡᴀʀᴍᴛʜ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ)
ɪɴᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ (ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ʙᴀʙʏ ᴋɪᴄᴋꜱ, ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴᴀᴛᴇ ɢᴇꜱᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ)
ᴘᴀᴘᴀʀᴀᴢᴢɪ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴜʙᴛʟᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʀʏ ᴏɴ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀɪᴛʏ ᴄᴜʟᴛᴜʀᴇ
Three weeks passed since Silverstone, but the impact still lingered like tire marks on the track.
Everywhere they went, someone was watching.
Whether it was the polite stares in hotel lobbies or the whispered gasps in airports, (Y/n) had grown used to the spotlight. It wasn’t just her anymore. It was the bump. The twins. The fact that she no longer trailed behind Lando unnoticed but stood right beside him, seen, acknowledged, and protected.
Austria arrived with a crisp alpine breeze and a sky so clear it almost felt curated. Red Bull Ring buzzed with energy. The hills around Spielberg were already alive with fans, flags, and fluttering papaya-orange shirts. But what surprised her most was how quickly the paddock had adjusted to her presence.
(Y/n) stepped out of the car, hand gently bracing her lower belly. Her bump was no longer a question. It was a statement.
Lando offered his arm instinctively, helping her down. “Take it slow.”
She gave him a soft smile. “I’m pregnant, not glass.”
“Pregnant with twins,” he reminded her.
Her reply was a smirk, but she didn’t argue.
Zak Brown met them at the McLaren motorhome entrance, his tone warmer than usual. “Room’s ready for you upstairs, couch, quiet corner, anything you need. And the chef knows your preferences this time.”
“Even the papaya juice?” she teased.
Zak chuckled. “Lando made sure it was non-negotiable.”
Inside, the team greeted her like one of their own. There was no awkwardness anymore, just warm familiarity. A few mechanics even offered her fist bumps, and one handed her a tiny McLaren onesie they’d customized during the break. (Y/n) laughed, touched beyond words.
Later that day, after the media rounds, Lando returned to the motorhome and found her curled up on the corner couch, sipping water, legs elevated as ordered.
“You okay?” he asked, brushing his knuckles against her knee.
She looked up at him, a soft glow behind tired eyes. “The babies are kicking a lot today. Think they’re ready for lights out and five red lights.”
“Already got the racer genes,” he grinned.
She rolled her eyes but reached for his hand, guiding it to the center of her bump.
A solid nudge. Then another.
He stilled, lips parting. “That was...”
“Both of them,” she whispered.
He knelt beside her and pressed a kiss to her stomach, right where he felt the movement. “Hey, easy in there, yeah? We’ve got time.”
Outside, a few camera flashes popped from the far end of the paddock, long lenses trying to catch a glimpse of the woman who had somehow softened the grid’s most unpredictable driver. But inside, all was still.
She was his calm. And now, their twins were part of the noise too.
And Austria was just beginning.
To be continued... 🧡
🧡 ᴜɴᴘʟᴀɴɴᴇᴅ — ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 28: ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀᴠᴇ 🧡
📝 Note from the Author: Sixth and final post for today, I know, I’ve spoiled you all. But this Austria chapter just felt too warm, too soft not to share before logging off. (Y/n) being embraced by the team? A custom McLaren onesie?? And the twins kicking during race week? That’s legacy in motion 🧡
Lando kneeling at her bump like it’s the most sacred thing in the world? Yeah, I cried writing that. Don’t look at me.
Thank you for being here through every post today. We’re just getting started with this arc, and I already can’t wait to show you what comes next. For now… Rest well, stay soft, and keep loving loudly.
With love, me 🧡