This season of Love Island is packed with surprises. Friendships will be tested, alliances will shift and complications in the villa will keep everyone on their toes. Relationships will form and passion will run high, but with drama everywhere and twists around every corner, nothing is ever simple. It’s messy, unpredictable and totally addictive. Are you ready for it...?
pairings: rafe cameron x fem!reader
content: fluff, angst, smut
warnings: sexual innuendos, cuss words, 18+ content, smut, drinking, verbal arguments, breakdowns, drama
a guide before reading the love island series
episodes:
episode 1: welcome to the villa
episode 2: the bombshell effect
episode 3: dear stranger
episode 4: ex marks the spot
episode 5: tangled hearts
episode 6: handle with care
episode 7: sparks fly
episode 8: kiss it better, baby
episode 9: imperfect for you
episode 10: this is why we can't have nice things
episode 11: purple lace bra
episode 12: after midnight
episode 13: pick me, choose me, love me
episode 14: brutal
episode 15: the one with the blue party
episode 16: bed chem
episode 17: running out of time
behind the scenes:
introductions: rafe edition
introductions: y/n edition
meet the islanders (girls edition)
meet the islanders (boys edition)
meet the islanders (y/n & rafe edition)
meet the islanders (bombshells edition)
meet the islanders (bombshells edition pt 2)
meet the islanders (bombshell edition pt 3)
meet the islanders (casa amor boys edition)
meet the islanders (casa amor girls edition)
kissing challenge results
follow @drewsephrryslibrary & turn on your notifications for fic updates!!!
(inspo for this series: @finelinevogue @rafecameronssl4t)
you jumped onto the back of the drivers’ parade truck with a bounce in your step and some sun peaking theough the clouds landing on your cheeks.
lando , your teammate, was already deep in chaotic banter with alex and charles, which you usually joined. but today, your attention drifted.
just a few steps down, leaning against the railing and mostly ignored, was lance stroll.
he wasn’t talking to anyone. no headphones, no phone, just watching the crowd quietly.
so, naturally, you beelined for him.
“hey lancey,” you said cheerfully, hopping up beside him. you've been calling him lancey since formula 2. you two used to be good friends but he got into formula 1 a few years before you did and he never really stayed in contact.
he blinked, clearly surprised. “oh. hey.”
“figured you looked a little lonely over here.” you nudged his arm playfully. “you good?”
he huffed a laugh. “just… tired.”
“mind if i stand with you?”
lance blinked. “me?”
“no,” you said, plopping down beside him. “the other quiet canadian driver on this truck.”
a beat. then he smiled. wide. warm. surprised.
“sure. yeah. of course.”
the two of you stand together and the ride begins. you have and smile at fans and take lots of pictures.
lance followed your gaze, then looked back at you.
“you’re kind of a big deal,” he said, voice dry but not mocking.
you nudged him lightly. “so are you. you just don't give yourself enough credit.”
he went quiet again, but this time it wasn’t awkward. it felt like a small, shared peace.
you grinned. “you don’t talk much, but when you do, it’s always something low-key philosophical. you're like, introverted and mysterious. and because you’re wearing sunglasses on a cloudy day.”
he cracked a smile, a real one, and it made your stomach flutter.
“you’re observant,” he said.
“i’m nosy, and i remember from when we were close” you corrected with a wink. “but thanks.”
he shook his head, chuckling. “you’re different from the others.”
“in a good way, or in a ‘oh god please stop talking to me’ way?”
he looked at you for a beat too long. “the first one.”
the race didn’t go great for him. p14, no points, a quiet garage.
but for you?
p2.
you were still buzzing when you climbed out of your car, helmet still on. lando was already off celebrating somewhere and you were about to follow when you saw lance standing near parc fermé. still in his suit, still helmeted, just watching you.
you jogged over before you could think twice.
“hey,” you said breathlessly. “you okay?”
he nodded. “just wanted to say congrats.”
you smiled under your visor. “you didn’t have to wait for me.”
“i wanted to.”
your heart squeezed.
then, before you could react, he pulled you into a hug. firm and fast and helmet-to-helmet, arms around your waist.
you froze for half a second, then melted into it.
“you drive like hell,” he mumbled and pulled up both of your visors so you could make eye contact. “in the best way.”
you laughed. “you really know how to make a girl blush through helmet.”
he pulled back. “you’re unreal out there.”
“you’ll get ‘em next week,” you said, bumping his arm. “i’ll be cheering for you.”
he tilted his head. “even if i beat lando?”
you smirked. “especially then.”
interviewer: “Y/N! Congratulations on P2! That’s your fifth podium this season. how are you feeling?”
you beam. “like i could run a marathon. maybe not in this fireproof suit, but emotionally unstoppable.”
interviewer: “amazing drive today, especially those last laps with leclerc, that was some gutsy stuff. but we also noticed something else…”
you tilt your head, eyes wide. “what was it”
interviewer: “you and lance stroll had a bit of a moment after the race. can we call it the 'helmet hug?’”
your eyes widen and you laugh, trying to hide the blush rising to your cheeks. “seriously? that’s what you’re calling it?”
interviewer: “it was adorable. and rare! lance isn’t exactly known for… public affection.”
you playfully fan yourself. “what can i say? i bring out the soft boy energy.”
interviewer: “so… is there something going on there.”
you bite your lip, trying not to smile too hard. “look, i’m just gonna say this; lance is a really great guy. he’s kind, funny, and way more charming than people give him credit for.”
interviewer: “is that a yes?”
“that’s a ‘i’m very fond of him and the helmet hug wasn’t the only sweet thing he did today.’” you glance off-camera for a second, and your smile softens. “he waited for me. after not such an amazing race for him. that means a lot.”
interviewer: “you’re going to break the internet with that answer, you know that, right?”
you shrug with a grin. “if it crashes because of me and lance, i won’t even feel bad. now lets get into the actual race questions please.”
after the champagne was sprayed and the media died down, you caught up with lance again in the paddock.
this time, no helmets. just the two of you, standing in the golden post-race light.
“so,” he said casually, “do you always go out of your way to rescue lonely canadians on parade trucks?”
“only the cute ones,” you said, then immediately blushed.
he smiled, soft and slow. “i’m flattered.”
you rubbed your neck awkwardly. “i mean it.”
he stepped a little closer. “then i guess it’s my turn to say something impulsive.”
your eyes widened. “oh?”
he leaned in, not too close, but just enough.
“you kind of make race weekends my new favourite thing.”
you tried, tried , not to squeal. “was that the impulsive part?”
he nodded. “also, i like you. a lot.”
“well,” you grinned, “you’re in luck. i like you back. a lot.”
@yourusername.racenumber
are we calling this a helmet hug now?
comments:
@f1lover: STOP??? helmet hugs are the new love language
@landonorris: that should have been me
@f1girlies: lance said “not all wins come with champagne” and WE FELT THAT 😭😭
@oscarpiastri: P2 in the race, P1 in stroll’s heart apparently 😅 congrats mate
@alexalbon: this is the most emotion i’ve seen from lance since 2019. iconic
@user1: they’re both blushing under those visors i just know it 🫣
@gridgirlz:
“Y/N saying ‘i bring out the soft boy energy’ about lance stroll has me on the FLOOR”
@y/nbiggestfan:
“why is their chemistry insane?? they’re like sunshine and sad boy in love”
@lando4president:
“lando’s gonna be so smug about this isn’t he”
@f1updates:
"Y/N comforting Lance after the race + their helmet hug?? romance arc of the season??"
@mclarenfangirl69:
"YALL. not the way he waited for her after p14. I’M UNWELL 😭"
@lando.jpg:
"since when does he SMILE like that?? i feel betrayed."
lance texts you a screenshot of the interview later that night.
lance:
“soft boy energy?? 😳”
you:
“am i wrong?”
lance:
“no comment. but i’d like to file an official request for more hugs. no helmets next time.”
It was race day. The air smelled like rubber, espresso, and stress. Media people darted between tents. Fans crowded behind barriers. Engineers hunched over data screens.
And smack in the middle of it all was your family.
Aurora, of course, was in her element — chatting with a Ferrari mechanic like she had a press pass. Milo had already been caught twice trying to sneak under the McLaren garage ropes. And Theo?
Theo was gone.
You and Lando locked eyes over the sea of orange caps and walkie-talkies. A mutual panic flickered between you.
“He was just here,” you said, your voice low but tight. “Next to me. Holding my hand.”
“I swear I saw him head toward the hospitality tent,” Lando replied, already pulling his cap lower to avoid fans as he scanned the crowd.
Milo tugged your sleeve. “Can I get another cookie?”
“Milo, we’ve lost your brother.”
“So… no cookie?”
You grabbed his hand tighter, heart thudding, eyes scanning every direction. Theo wasn’t the kind of kid to run off — he was quiet, gentle, and usually glued to your side in noisy places. But when things got too much, he sometimes slipped away, needing space.
Your phone buzzed.
Oscar: Found Theo. All good. Hospitality.
You exhaled in relief. “Lando, Oscar has him.”
“Legend,” Lando muttered, already half-jogging in that direction.
Inside McLaren’s hospitality suite, it was calm. Cool air hummed. Lights were soft.
And in one corner booth, curled up with his legs crossed, was Theo — wearing his little noise-cancelling headphones, sipping a juice box with one hand, holding a piece of cookie in the other hand.
Next to him, Oscar Piastri sat in comfortable silence. A water bottle rested on the table. No phone. No distractions. Just calm company.
They weren’t talking. But Oscar’s presence was steady, and Theo clearly felt safe — leaning ever so slightly against the older driver’s side.
Lando crouched beside the booth. “Hey, buddy.”
Theo looked at him. Blinked. Sipped his juice.
“Went to find quiet,” he said softly, his voice muffled behind the headphones.
“Yeah,” you said gently, brushing his curls back. “You scared us a bit, baby.”
Oscar smiled. “He walked in like he knew exactly where he was going. Didn’t say a word. Just sat down.”
Theo looked up at him, pausing for a long moment, then whispered,
“I like you. You don’t talk loud.”
Oscar’s smile grew soft. “That’s good. I like you too, little man.”
Theo broke his cookie in half and handed Oscar a piece.
Lando, still crouched, looked between them — a mix of surprise and amusement in his expression. “Well… looks like I’ve been replaced.”
You laughed under your breath, holding Milo close as he tried (and failed) to steal the rest of Theo’s cookie. “He just needed someone who speaks his language.”
“Silence?”
“Exactly.”
Later that day, after the race, the stands were filled with cheering fans. Lando had finished P2, and he celebrated with Oscar on the podium, spraying champagne and flashing his usual grin.
That night, McLaren posted their highlights.
📸 Theo Norris sitting quietly beside Oscar Piastri, watching race replays on a tablet, sharing a plate of cookies. Caption: "Some bonds don’t need words."
You saved the post instantly.
And when you tucked Theo into bed that night, he curled under his blanket and whispered sleepily,
“Oscar’s my friend.”
“I know, darling,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “He’s a very good one.”
pairing: lana (oc) x lando norris
genre: rookie-to-superstar • teammates with tension • soft crush energy • real-world stardom colliding with the grid • south african
vibe: she’s grace, he’s flustered, and the internet is feral
girl in the pic is geenah, cape town model!
“lana hoets: f1’s unexpected south african sweetheart.”
that’s the headline trending on twitter the week before the start of the season.
people still can’t believe it.
last year, she was in her first year at UCT, showing up to biochemistry lectures in a hoodie and a claw clip, barely making it to her 8 a.m. tutorials. now she’s one of mclaren’s two main drivers, the first south african woman to ever race in formula one, and the paddock’s most unlikely overnight sensation.
her fame came from a video her friend posted of lana go karting and breaking the fastest record by 80 seconds. her friends posted it and overnight she got 50 million views, and mclaren f1 team had commented that she was incredible behind the wheel. when she checked her dms the next day, zak brown had dmed saying he wanted to meet with her in london next week - trip fully paid for.
she flew out with her mom, the two of them walked into mclarens headquarters and sat down with zak.
they put her in the sim and she was breaking records.
oscar was out for the upcoming season due to an injury so they desperately needed a substitute. lana was exactly who zak wanted on the team. fast, good image, confident, grounded, and composed.
they decided for lando to meet lana as zak wanted lana for the season. she immediately voiced that she was a uni student and still wanted to study as uct is hard to get into. zak helped her out and she became a part time student and only needed to go to campus physically a few times a year, the rest was online.
when lando first laid eyes on lana he was in a trance. lando has never believed in love at first sight, but with lana it was different. they just got each other. they hung out a lot before the season started to, get to know each other better.
after three weeks of seeing each other everyday, it was safe to say that lando was in love.
lando’s seated next to her during press, legs bouncing. he’s been very obvious, in a way that’s subtle to no one.
she's wearing soft orange shades to match the team and a slick bun, laughing at something carlos says on the other side of the stage. lando keeps sneaking glances.
fans have noticed.
“he looks at her like she’s pole position,” one tweet reads.
the fans immediatley noticed their chemistry. they went crazy with the edits on social media. the lingering glances from lando and the blushing from lana, they loved it.
“so, lando, the fans want to know… you and lana have a great dynamic. anything you want to share?”
“she’s just— i mean, yeah. she’s amazing. we’re teammates, obviously, but… she’s got the kind of energy that lights the place up, you know? she's beautiful, inside and out” lando says smirking and trying to keep it together.
"so we are not denying a crush then?"
lando starts squealing, "i'm not commenting."
in the hospitality building, lando walks in on lana volgging. she has her phone propped up against her bottle. he stood behind her and booed her mid sentence.
"yasis lando! you scared me." she said clutching her chest.
"thats kind of the point of booing someone." he says sitting down besides her.
"as i was saying before i was so rudely interupted," lana says looking into her camera while lando stares at her eyes. "i'm so nervous to meet siya kolisi and tyla."
"whos siya?" lando says making lana gasp from shock.
she starts explaining how siya kolisi is the best south african rugby player of her time. lando doesn't know much about rugby except that it's south africa's best sport, and that lana is a huge fan of the bokke.
"siya is iconic. i cannot wait to meet him. he liked my podium post from last week and i started screaming when he commented." lana says excitedly.
"when tyla comes you need to do the water challenge." lando says looking from the corner of his eye to see her reaction.
"i'm only doing it if you join me." she says teasingly. he starts doing the dance making lana scream and move the phone to get a better view him.
the two laugh loudly. lando sets the phone down and the two start dancing to the one direction song playing in the background. a few of the crew members start filming and eventually join in.
this is what lana loves about mclaren. family. everyone is so supportive and want the best for her and lando. she has made so many friends on the team and loves the energy on and off track.
"so zak, was it a good desicion bringing lana into the formula 1 world? you have the car of the year but lana is yet to win a race." an interviewer asks zak during media day.
"it really was the best desicion to have lana as our driver this year. we love her energy and contributions to the team. she has been scoring points and finished on the podium on her first race. she is so hard working and dedicated. she makes us happy, especially lando. having her here was a risk, but a risk i am glad we took." zak says to the reporter.
"so lana, how did your friends react when you became an f1 driver? i know you were studying at the university of cape town, is it weird being away from your friends?"
"yoh my friends lost their minds. i went from studying in the library to seat fittings. the best part was how supportive my friends are. i really do miss them, but they will be joining me in the garage in miami.
"did people approach you on campus?"
"a bit. people started recognizing me on the shuttle or at parties. i’d walk past someone and see them squinting like, ‘is that...?’ and then they wouldn’t say anything. but later i’d get dms like ‘were you on jammie stairs today or am i hallucinating? it was so sweet. it still is."
"you two sit down, we need to film the video now." lana's press officer says to her and lando. the two sit infront of the camera next to each other.
the video opens with lana sitting cross-legged on an orange couch in her orange team shirt, hair pulled back into a high bun, sunglasses perched on her head.
lando’s already giggling. they haven’t even started.
"alright,” the producer says off-camera, “you’ll be blindfolded, and the other person hands you an object. you have 30 seconds to guess what it is.”
“this is going to end in chaos,” lana says.
lando points at her. “you are chaos.”
lana puts a hand to her chest. “and yet, you choose to sit next to me every single time, when you could take the other couch”
“for the drama,” lando grins. “obviously.”
"obviously." lana says smiling and rolling her eyes.
it's around one, and lana begins blindfolded.
lando hands her a rubber duck.
“okay, it’s small. squishy. is it a stress ball?”
“kind of,” lando says. “but it has a… head?”
lana snorts. “a tiny helmet?”
lando’s already wheezing.
“lando, is this a mini-me?!”
“no, but now i want one.”
"someone get the man a mini-me please." lana says laughing, while lando smiles at her lovingly.
round two, and now lando is blindfolded. lana decided to mess with his head a bit by choosing to give him her beaded south african bracelet she used to always wear.
lana hands him her bracelet with their hands touching briefly.
he touches it carefully. “wait, is this jewellery?”
“maybe.”
“is this yours?”
“maybe.”
he lifts the blindfold halfway. “is this your bracelet from cape town?”
lana’s face goes soft. “you remember that?”
“you wore it at your seat fitting.”
off-camera, someone says, “oh my god.”
"you remembered that?" lana asks looking intensely into lando's eyes smiling.
he puts it back on her wrist with her watch that matches landos. "of course i remembered. it was the first time we met." he says caressing her thumb and then pulling away slowly.
lana breaks into a smile. "no peeking next round, mr norris." she says pushing his head away with her hand.
it's the third round and they’re supposed to work together to figure out an object by touch only. lando sits closer, now their knees are touching.
"what is this?"
"my hand lando."
the two touch the unknown object and often interlink their fingers accidentally, leaving lana a blushing mess and lando giggling.
it ends in both of them screaming because it’s a fake spider and lana throws the thing across the room while lando falls off the couch laughing.
“WHO DID THAT?” lana yells, yanking her blindfold off. “i’m suing.”
lando’s still on the floor with tears streaming down his face.
“i’ve never seen her move that fast,” he gasps. “we need that reaction time in sector one.”
"shut the hell up lando."
the two end up play fighting and running around the couches. lando trying to catch lana who squeals everytime he comes close.
lana jumps on the orange couch with lando on top of her tickling her sides. the crew members are all laughing at the pair. the social media girls are posting on social media while the camera crew are getting all the action.
zak hears the commotion from his office and he walks straight into the studio, arms crossed.
“alright,” he says, completely deadpan, “who let the children into content day?”
lana and lando freeze.
“we’re working!” lana insists, still holding the fake spider by one leg while lando scramble off of her.
lando salutes from the floor where he fell to. “content king and queen.”
zak raises an eyebrow. “i can hear you two from the simulator bay. we’re moving you apart.”
“but we’re winning,” lando says.
“winning what?”
“the constructors championship?” lana says making lando nod his head holding in a giggle.
zak sighs and turns to the camera crew. “cut the cameras. and get them separate snack tables.”
he walks away from the two and lando immediately starts laughing and tickling lana. she squeals and kicks him away.
📱 @mclaren
🎥 New video: Teammate Challenge – Blindfold Chaos with Lana & Lando 🔥
watch the full video now on our YouTube.
they’re loud. they’re giggly. they got kicked out by Zak.
you’re welcome.
🧡 top comments:
@charles_leclerc
“so this is why the media pen was peaceful for once.”
@danielricciardo
“who let the rom-com happen on mclaren content day. i’m just trying to eat.”
@georgerussell63
“i was told this was a team-building exercise. i watched a man fall in love in 7 minutes.”
@lewishamilton
“someone protect her. the girl’s out there carrying race pace and lando’s emotions.”
@carlossainz55
“this is the most chemistry i’ve seen since my chemistry class. and i failed that.”
@oscarpiastri
(injury emoji)
“replaced by lana hoets and now she’s doing teammate challenges with lando that end in cuddles… entering my villain arc.”
@estebanocon
“she gave him a bracelet and he remembered. boys, take notes.”
🧡 fan comments:
@lanandoeditz
lana: blindfolded, laughing, heart open
lando: giggling, caressing her hand, remembering her bracelet from 3 months ago
me: WE ARE WITNESSING SOMETHING HISTORIC.
@styleoflanahoets
i swear they are the human version of “Style” by Taylor Swift.
lana, cool head, warm heart, sunglasses on, and a man wrapped around her finger.
@f1softies
lando looking at her like she’s the finish line and he’s the one chasing the podium.
@gridgirlz
zak: we’re separating them
also zak: cuts to lana on lando’s lap while he tickles her and she’s screaming
us: do it again.
🧡 tweets:
@fiaunhinged
lando: “you wore this bracelet at your seat fitting”
lana: soft gasp
me: STOP THIS IS TOO INTIMATE FOR THE INTERNET
@wheelloveclub
i don’t even ship real people but they are TESTING ME
@f1girlies
you’re telling me they went from meeting at a simulator to this in three months??
okay fine, i believe in love again
pairing: lando norris x lia brooks
genre: popstar x f1 driver • fluffy domesticity • soft boyfriend lando • music video romance
inspired by “2hands” by tate mcrae
a little bit spicy but no smut
lando had no idea how soft his life would get when he started dating lia brooks. he thought it would be wild, chaotic, paparazzi at every door, and sure, there was a bit of that. but mostly?
mostly it was sunday mornings. her humming in the kitchen. shared cereal boxes. the way she’d walk around the house barefoot in one of his t-shirts, half-singing whatever new demo she was working on, brushing her teeth mid-melody.
he lived for it. every part.
the two sat in lando's apartment. lando’s in his hoodie, socks pulled halfway up his calves, nursing a mug of tea that’s mostly gone cold. lia’s sitting cross-legged beside him on the couch, lyric book balanced on her knees, pen tapping against the page.
she hasn’t said much for the last few minutes, just looked out at the harbor, chewing her bottom lip like there’s something she’s not sure how to say.
he nudges her ankle with his foot.
“you good?”
lia looks up at him. her smile is soft, almost shy.
“i have a crazy idea,” she says, closing the sketchbook and setting it aside. “for the new music video.”
lando perks up immediately. “yeah?”
lia nods, pulling her knees to her chest. “i want a real f1 car in it. not a prop. not something fake. and not just any driver.”
he watches her, heart stalling a little.
she tucks her hair behind her ear, then looks at him with that kind of soft boldness that always floors him. “i want you to drive it.”
the silence between them is gentle, charged.
“me?” he asks, quietly stunned.
“yeah,” she says. “i want the car to be branded in my visuals. my colours. my name. and you. driving is literally your job. you live and breath that speed. i want you, just as you.”
lando sets his mug down, folding his arms over his knees.
“lia, are you asking me to be in your music video?”
she laughs, cheeks flushing. “yeah, i am lanny.”
“would i get to wear a suit with your logo on it?”
“custom,” she promises. “im thinking purple, my colour, and orange which is your colour. my initials on the chest.”
he breaks into a slow smile, eyes soft and awed.
“you really want me to do that?” he asks. “i mean, i’m not... i’m not some model.”
“no,” she says. “you’re my driver. and i want the world to see you that way.”
lando exhales, overwhelmed but warm. “okay,” he says, voice low. “i’ll do it.”
“yeah?”
“yeah,” he repeats. “but i want my name in the credits or something.”
she leans over and kisses him. it's soft and unhurried, like a thank you. like a promise.
“deal.”
he rests his forehead against hers.
“you know,” he murmurs, “i think the only thing better than driving for mclaren might be driving for you.”
she laughs into his chest.
it's the day of the music video and lando is nervous.
he’s in full gear. the custom orange and purple race suit snug around his shoulders, LB stitched into the collarbone, her signature in a sharp, silvery thread just above his heart.
his helmet, matte lavender with streaks of neon flame and a papaya orange visor, is tucked under his arm. it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever worn, and he loves it.
her world is louder than his. music blaring, dancers warming up, cameras everywhere. it’s chaos, but it’s also… her. and she moves through it like she owns it. grinning, barefoot, joking with the director, laughing so freely he forgets for a second that he’s even nervous.
“you okay?” she asks, appearing next to him in a matching race suit with the top half tied around her waist. she has a purple and orange custom bra on while her long brown hair flows down her back, and her makeup glittering under the lights.
he shrugs, playing it cool. “just… haven’t been in a car with someone else’s name on it before.”
lia smiles, gentle and amused. “you look amazing.”
“you designed it,” he points out.
“i know,” she teases, fixing the way his suit bunches near his elbow. “and i’m a genius.”
lando leans in, lowers his voice just for her. “what if i mess it up?”
she brushes a hand over his chest, just over her name. “then you’ll still look hot doing it.”
he swallows. “cool. no pressure.”
lando slides into the driver’s seat of the purple-orange F1 car like second nature, but this time, the helmet is hers. the gloves are stitched in lavender. the car’s side pod reads:
LB // 2hands.
the cameras roll.
he speeds through the closed-off airstrip with precision, smooth turns and donuts that burn rubber into smoke trails behind him. music blares through his earpiece: the beat of 2hands, deeper, remixed, full of bass and tension.
he nails it in one take.
when he pulls back in, lia is standing there clapping.
“you just did donuts in lavender flames,” she says. “i think i’m in love with you again.”
lando lifts his visor and smirks. “again?”
“always.”
the sun’s gone down and the lighting crew has bathed the runway in violet and orange LEDs. the car sits center stage like a throne, and lando is perched on top of it, his legs spread slightly, hands resting on his knees.
helmet still on.
in full suit.
silent.
lia’s in her matching race suit with the top open. her dancers melt away as she moves closer to him. the director yells action, and the track hits the second chorus
she straddles his lap. slowly. confidently. her hands run down his chest and she rolls her hips once, twice, to the beat, lips parted but eyes locked on the visor.
lando is, quite literally, not breathing.
she leans in close to the helmet, just brushing her lips to the edge of it, not kissing, just letting the camera think she might.
lando doesn’t move.
he just feels everything.
she turns around on his lap, ass facing the camera. she goes into a handstand, her hands wrapped around his legs, face in his crotch, and legs in a middle split with his face between her legs. he automatically put his hands on her bare skin to help hold her up.
she comes out of the handstand after a few seconds, now sitting on his lap with her back facing him. she takes his hands and runs them down her chest while grinding down on him.
cut.
the director shouts, “perfect!”
lia hops off, breathless, grinning. “you okay in there, lanny?”
lando lifts his visor just a crack. “i’m gonna need a minute.”
the final shot is in action.
lando’s back in the car, engine off, the camera pulling in close. lia stands beside him, back to the lens. the beat fades out.
just before the screen cuts to black, he lifts the visor slowly and winks.
in their trailer, the night has ended and lia is sitting in front of her mirror taking off her makeup. the two finally have a minute to themselves after a busy day.
she’s wiping off her lipstick with a wet wipe when he wraps his arms around her from behind.
“you okay?” she asks, glancing at him in the mirror.
“define okay,” he mumbles. “you gave me a lap dance in front of twelve cameras that millions of people are going to see.”
“you looked hot,” she says.
“i couldn’t even breathe.”
she turns in his arms. “you really wore my name like that?”
he brushes her hair back, presses his forehead to hers.
“i always will.”
twitter, five minutes after the video drops:
🔥 @popcultqueen
THE WINK. THE WINK. THE F1 DRIVER WINKED. I HAVE LOST MOTOR FUNCTION.
😭 @liandoupdates
lia: does a sexy lap dance on top of an actual formula one car
lando: raises his visor and winks
me: dead
💜 @mclarensmut
the way lando sat there in full race suit while lia danced on him… the STRENGTH. the COMPOSURE.
🏁 @gridgirlie
bro has driven monaco. and this is what made him sweat.
@liasbiggestfan:
lia: lap dances on a car
lando: silent. deadly. then winks.
me: screaming into the void
@f1lore:
LANDO’S CAPTION. HER INITIALS ON HIS CHEST. THE SMIRK. THE FACT THAT HE DROVE THAT CAR LIKE IT WAS HIS HEART ON THE LINE
@mclarengirlies:
lando being completely hers in every frame?? and loving it?? we’ve never seen a man so whipped and so fast
@landowdc25:
may we all find someone who wears our brand colours and lets lap dance on them on camera 🧡🟣
📸 @liabrooks
caption:
i just want his 2hands on me
photo carousel:
lia on the F1 car in her suit and sparkles, eyes locked on lando with his visor down
lando mid-donut, purple smoke billowing behind him
behind-the-scenes shot of lia fixing the collar of his race suit
a still of the wink
blurry polaroid of them hugging off-set, both smiling too hard
top comments:
🔥 @maxfewtrell: you gonna let him breathe or nah
🏎️ @charles_leclerc: bro sat so still. that was fear.
🧡 @mclaren: respectfully, we’ve never seen that helmet before and we’re scared.
🎤 @liahq: our favourite couple
💀 @gridgossip: LANDO. NAKED. UNDER. THAT. SUIT.
📸 @landonorris
caption:
my 2hands are on her at all times
@liabrooks
photo carousel:
lando on top of the car, visor down, completely still
lia dancing in front of him while he visibly loses composure
them sitting together on the f1 car
her initials stitched on his chest
a mirror selfie in the trailer of her kissing his cheek, him grinning like a goof
top comments:
😭 @oscarpiastri: bro said “method acting” and just let it happen
🤯 @kimiantonelli: this man was LOCKED IN. helmet on. lap dance happening. didn’t flinch.
💜 @liabrooks: you looked hot under pressure. might do it again.
👀 @mclarenf1: are we ignoring the wink or are we planning a public meltdown
🧃 @danielricciardo: legend behavior. if she releases merch i want the helmet.
pairing: lando norris x lia brooks (oc)
genre: popstar x f1 driver • youtube chaos • social media fluff • real song lyrics • fanshipping slow burn
warning: tatiana's spicy lyrics and lando's suggestive behavior
the camera turns on.
lando’s wearing a grey hoodie, hair messy, cheeks slightly pink like he knows he’s about to embarrass himself. next to him, max fewtrell is already laughing.
“okay,” max says, smirking, “so we’re reacting to lia brooks’ music video and song ‘sports car’ today. lando has not shut up about this song for three days.”
“because it’s unhinged,” lando defends, adjusting the mic. “like the lyrics are actually criminal.”
“and by criminal, you mean hot.”
“i mean hot, sexy, and somehow specifically about me.”
max rolls his eyes. “lia doesn't even know who you are mate.”
lando shrugs. “don’t care. i'm pretending it's about me.”
they hit play.
the screen fills with the silhouette of lia strutting in a room wearing a small leopard print one piece outfit. she sways her hips side to side to the beat of her song.
lando lets out a loud whistle when he see's her hourglass body on the screen. max rolls his eyes at lando's antics.
"hey cute jeans, take mine off me." lia says with doe eyes looking at the camera.
"pause. this is insane." max says pausing the video. lando is stairng at lia as if she was looking at him.
"lando say something." he says exasperated.
"i will take them off you lia." lando says smirking earning a smack at the back of his head from max.
they push play and carry on watching intensily now.
"we can share one seat. in the alley in the back, or the center of this room, with the windows rolled down, boy don't make me choose."
"personally, i would prefer in the privacy of our own room, but for you lia i would do it public and take the risk." lando says winking at the camera.
"man, your pr manager is going to kill you after this." max says rubbing his face in his hands.
"i think you know what this is, i think you wanna, uh. no, you ain't got no mrs. oh, but you got a sports car. we can uh-uh in it, while you drive it real far. yeah, you know what this is. yeah, you know what this is."
lia sings while dancing in the video. she grinds on the chair which makes lando's breath hitch. she has long smooth legs that she runs her hands up sexily while looking innocently at the camera.
lando freezes.
max turns to him, wide-eyed. “bro.”
lando holds up a hand. “pause it. i need a moment.”
max pauses the video. lando stares into the camera with wide eyes.
“she wrote this song and her parents are okay with the lyrics?,” he says, breathless. “she’s a menace.”
“it’s a little too on-brand,” max says. “are you okay?”
lando mutters, “i want her fullstop.”
"we could go again like three, four times. so my type, got butterflies. so good, it hurts. thinkin' 'bout what we did before this verse."
"pause stop no." max says standing up and pacing around the room.
lando is stuck in a haze from watching her go into a very suggestive position with her ass on full display. she was now wearing a black long sleve top and shorts that were so small they could be mistaken for underwear. his imagination was running wild, and he was beginning to get hot thinking about how she looked.
lando makes a noise that’s somewhere between a gasp and a laugh.
"did she just say four times? baby, i don't think i could handle that."
"lando you need to stop being so desperate for her!" max says and throws a pillow at lando, aiming for his head but it completely missed.
lando leans toward the camera, smirking.
“lia brooks, if you’re watching this: i will abandon all race strategy for you.”
they carried on watching the video and at one point lando was screaming. once it had ended and the camera switched off, lando excused himself to his room in their shared apartment and shut the door. he was seen that evening for takeouts after max had posted and edited their reaction video.
youtube comments on the video:
@landoslover: i cannot believe have i have just witnessed
@oscarpiastri: someone tag lia!!!
@mclarenf1: lando, we will be discussing this on monday
@liabroooookslover: lia x lando? crossover we never knew we needed
@maxfewtrellreal: this is the most feral i’ve seen him over a woman. and i’ve seen things
@liabrookshq: want vip tickets to see lia perform sports car live on tour?
the next day, lando wakes up to a notification:
@liabrooks followed you back!
he stares at it for a solid minute. then replies to the comment she left on the video:
@liabrooks: invite me to the monaco gp in exchange for backstage passes at my next show?
lando decides to dm her:
@lando: so about those tickets. - attachment of paddock passes -
@lia: you're insane. thank you lanny - attachment of backstage passes -
when she shows up in monaco, the internet loses it.
lia in a headset, lia sipping champagne on the mclaren yacht, lia looking too good in orange.
lando is nowhere near chill. he bumps into a tire trying to keep his eyes on her.
in an interview, he gets asked about her.
“she’s great,” he says, trying to be neutral, and fails. “very... fast. lyrically. emotionally. spiritually.”
“spiritually fast?”
lando shrugs. “you’ve heard the song. you know the vibe."
they meet properly in the garage after quali. cameras watching their every move.
she’s in heels and a cropped orange racing jacket. he’s sweaty, out of breath, and grinning like a fool.
“you know,” she says, leaning in close, “you talk a lot of shit for someone who nearly crashed during fp2.”
he laughs. “was just thinking about the line where you said we can uh uh in it”
“still true, just don't know how we would fit” she whispers.
"we can share one seat." he says referencing her lyrics.
lando kisses her before he can stop himself.
she tastes like cherry lip gloss and adrenaline.
instagram the next morning
📸 @liabrooks:
photo's of a blurry helmet in her lap, a paddock pass, and her sitting in lando's racing car.
caption:
maybe wearing orange in my next mv?
song playing: sports car – lia brooks
📸 @landonorris:
photo of her hand in his.
caption:
she might actually be faster than me
pairing: lando norris x sienna ray (popstar)
genre: slow-burn romance • fluff • mutual crush • interviews & banter
structure: third person, lowercase, alternating povs
setting: formula 1 movie premiere weekend – monaco, 2025
🎬 sienna ray – interview with variety magazine (june 2025)
"q: how did you end up with a song in the f1 movie?"
"a: i’d always loved the sound of engines growing up, weirdly calming? so when the lewis reached out and said the movie needed a song for a pivotal turning point like, where the main driver starts falling for his love interest, i just… wrote from my gut. it’s called “all i see is you.”
"q: do you follow f1?"
"a: i do. im a big drive to survive girlie. the drivers are unreal. also pretty sexy if im begin honest." [laughs]
"q: do you have a favourite driver? i know some of them follow you on social media."
"a: i love lewis, he is amazing in every aspect. im also a carlos supporter, mr smooth operator. lando is pretty cute too, cheeky but thats hot."
🏁 lando pov – later that week
lando’s in the mclaren motorhome, feet up on a chair, scrolling instagram.
sienna ray posted.
it's a photo dump. he scrolls through the pictures. a pretty sunset, photo of her with friends at dinner, food, and a video.
the video stands out because it's her lipsyncing her song for the f1 movie wearing an orange number 4 mclaren cap.
lando literally drops his phone.
“you’re ridiculous,” oscar piastri says from across the room, not even looking up from his phone.
"did you see what she posted? she's wearing MY MERCH." lando say's loudly.
lando groans. “she’s just, cool. like way too cool. and hot. and talented. and her voice is—” he clutches his chest dramatically.
carlos sainz walks by with a smoothie. “just talk to her.”
lando glares. “why don’t you talk to god while you’re at it. she's never going to notice me."
"clearly you didn't see her interview with that magazine." oscar says in a sing song tone smiling cheekily at lando.
lando quickly searches for it and squeals when he reads that she said he is hot.
🎥 lando – red carpet interview
the interviewer smiles, holding a mic a little too close.
"lando, huge night. who are you most excited to see?”
lando scratches the back of his neck. he's in black tailored suit pants and a loose, no-tie shirt, his hair doing that perfect-flop thing. he looks good and he knows it, but his voice betrays him.
"i probably say brad pitt or one of the big actors i've been watching since a kid, but i'm gonna be honest and say sienna ray. she’s here, right? i am a huge fan."
"she is. you like her music?"
he laughs, eyes darting away.
“yeah. spotify wrapped number 1 artist last year. the song she did for the film? literally hasn’t left my head since i heard it. it’s stupid good.”
“have you met her yet?”
“no. god, no.”
“you planning to?”
lando blinks.
“only if i don’t throw up first.”
🎤 driver roundtable interview clip
"remember these are rapid fire questions so just blurt out your answers. question one, which driver here has the most crushes?" she asks with a little laugh.
charles: “lando.”
lando: “what the hell—”
oscar: “he’s in love with sienna ray and he’s not subtle.”
lando: “you lot are actual traitors.”
george: “i saw him practicing a conversation with her in the mirror before we got here.”
lando: “shut up!”
oscar: “he used the phrase ‘your music changed my tires.’”
everyone loses it.
lando: "she's awesome. i got tickets to her concert in London in august. it's sienna babbyyy." said in the same tone as 'its monaco babbyy.'
🎬 f1 movie premiere dinner
lando norris isn’t nervous around most people. he can flirt, tease, banter with fans, hold his own with sky sports or will buxton or even a pissed-off engineer. but tonight, at the f1 movie premiere dinner, seated next to sienna ray, the actual grammy-nominated popstar, voice of the All I see is You track that plays during the most emotional scene of the film. he’s completely, catastrophically wrecked.
it doesn’t help that she smells like citrus and amber and something he can’t name. or that her dress keeps slipping slightly off one shoulder, or that she says hi like they’ve met before, like he’s not just another fast driver with a schoolboy crush.
he tries to play it cool. “your song in the film, All I see is You? it’s... i mean, i wasn’t expecting it to hit that hard.”
she tilts her head, eyes bright. “you’ve actually heard it?”
“memorised it,” he says before he can stop himself.
she grins. “oh?”
“yeah. the part where you say, uh—” he rubs the back of his neck, suddenly fourteen years old again, “—‘don’t slow down now, you’ve already lost me once’... that line is brutal.”
“was meant to be,” she says softly. “lewis spoke to me and said that he wanted something that felt like freefall. like the moment right before you let go.”
lando nods. he knows that moment. turn ten at spa. late braking into monaco’s hairpin. falling in love with someone who probably doesn’t even know your name until today.
“my favourite line’s the next one,” he says. “kiss me like we’re out of time.”
she looks at him. really looks. her lips part slightly like she might say something, but she just sips her drink instead, smile twitching at the corners.
across the table, oscar piastri catches lando’s eye and gives him a tiny thumbs-up. carlos is pretending not to watch, but he’s leaned so far forward over the front of his chair it’s comical. someone, probably charles, coughs the word sienna dramatically loud from across the table, and lando pretends not to hear it.
sienna raises an eyebrow. “your friends always this subtle?”
lando groans. “they’ve been waiting for me to humiliate myself for months.”
“why?”
he shrugs. “i’ve had a bit of a thing for you.”
“a bit?”
“okay, a lot.”
she leans in, conspiratorial. “you know what’s wild?”
he swallows. “what?”
“i watched one of your interviews last year. you were explaining drs to someone and it made no sense, but you were so into it i ended up watching three more. i kind of loved that.”
lando blinks. “you watched my interviews?”
“you’ve got a good face when you talk about something you care about. well, a good face in general."
he laughs, caught off guard by the way his stomach flips. “you do too. guess we’re even now.”
“almost,” she says.
dinner stretches on. conversation slips easily into music and racing and the weird pressure of being seen. she tells him how she almost didn’t record the song because it felt too personal, too vulnerable. he tells her about crashing into a sim wall once because her debut album was playing and he got distracted during a gear shift.
she laughs. throws her head back a little when she does.
when dessert comes around, he knows he has to ask.
“okay,” he says, leaning slightly closer. “this might be forward but... do you wanna get dinner sometime?”
she blinks. not startled but more surprised it took him this long. "we are at dinner?”
“like... no. like a normal one. just us. no cameras. no tux. no drivers trying to embarrass me”
she smiles, soft and certain. “yeah. i’d really like that.”
his grin is instant. impossible to contain. she reaches for his hand under the table, brushes her fingers across his knuckles like it’s the easiest thing in the world. like she’s been waiting too.
he doesn’t even feel the rest of the night pass.
later that night she posts a video on her story if her singing in her room. dim lighting, her with no make up, sitting on her bed playing the piano.
her own voice sings soft, sultry, cracked with emotion.
kiss me like we’re out of time,
crash into me, don’t apologize.
lando watches it from his hotel room, phone dimmed to the lowest light, a ridiculous grin stretching across his face. he doesn’t say anything in the group chat. he doesn’t have to.
they all know.
he said it once already, earlier at dinner. but now, lying on his back in a room that suddenly feels quieter than it did before, he whispers it to no one.
“i really, really like her.”
and this time, he thinks, maybe she likes him back.
genre: flirty - tension - smut - soft angst - unprotected sex - p in v
warning: read at your own risk. i will not be held responsible for anything related to you and this oneshot
#requestsareopen!!!
Gemma wore the little black dress she knew Lando would notice.
thin silk. black. hugs her curves in all the right places. off the shoulder. the kind of dress that clings when you walk, slides when you sit, and slips when someone’s eyes linger too long, in this case, Lando's lingering eyes.
they were two courses in at a restaurant that screamed money in Monaco, but all he could taste was tension. Gemma crossed her legs under the table and he caught a flash of lace. black, barely-there underwear sitting high on her hip.
he froze, mid bite. she smiled showing her pearly whites and big doe innocent eyes. she knew exactly what she was doing and her effects on him.
"problem Mr Norris?" she asked teasingly.
he shook his head, jaw tightening slightly as he dropped the fork. “not yet.”
their eyes locked. heat, unspoken, hovered in the air between them like a storm cloud that hadn’t yet broken.
“you’re staring,” she said, tilting her wine glass to her lips.
“you wore that dress to be stared at.”
“maybe.”
“you wore that under it,” he added, voice low, “to see what i'd do.”
her lips twitched. “guess."
that word lingered in the air, like the song playing on all the radios.
Gemma wasn't sure what her and Lando were. they weren't official but they weren't nothing. Max and some of Lando's friends had teased him about wanting to see Gemma after races. they all knew why he was so invested in the girl, they all saw the marks she left on his neck and scratches on his back.
tonight wasn't casual. it never had been.
she leaned forward just enough for the neckline to dip. she wasn't wearing a bra. he could see her hardened nipples through her thin lacey dress. “what do you want, Lando?”
his jaw clenched. he could feel it rising and his pants feeling tighter. the ache. the want. the risk.
“don’t ask me that here.”
“why not?”
“because i’ll tell you.”
she smiled, soft and slow. “i want you to.”
he leaned in, tone all gravel and heat. “i’ve been thinking about that flash of lace since the moment i saw it. you’re sitting across from me acting like you’re unaffected, but your legs are pressed together under the table. you’re not as calm as you pretend to be.”
her breath caught.
he wasn’t wrong.
“cocky,” she whispered.
“only when I’m right.”
the waitress arrived with dessert, and the tension snapped for a second, like a wire fraying but still holding. Gemma reached for the spoon, dipped into the chocolate mousse and slowly, purposefully slid it past her lips, eyes on him. she sucked on the spoon, eyes half closed and let out a moan soft but loud enough for Lando to hear.
“i’m not going home alone tonight,” she said.
a challenge. a warning.
Lando’s hand tightened around his wine glass. “you think i’ll make it to the car before i do something stupid?”
“i hope not.”
the way she said it, half dare, half desperation. it did something to him. the restraint was killing them both.
they didn’t speak for a minute.
just watched.
tasted.
looked.
“i hate this,” he finally muttered.
“what?”
“how good you are at messing with my head.”
she tilted her head. “then stop playing.”
“i've tried.”
“then try harder.”
he stood up abruptly, threw a few notes on the table, and held out his hand to her.
Gemma blinked "what are you doing? we haven't finished dessert."
his eyes flicked to her lips. “i haven't had a taste of mine yet.” he said referring to the taste of her. his favorite dessert. he could eat her for breakfast, lunch, supper, and everything in between.
she stood, letting the hem of the dress ride higher. his gaze followed, hungry. possessive. she liked it. the control, the chaos it caused inside him. the fire she lit just by breathing near him. she walked around the table to grab his hand and felt his body heat immediately.
outside, the night air was cool. his body was not.
he pressed her back against the black of his McLaren as soon as they were out of view. hands braced on either side of her. not touching yet. just waiting.
“guess what I want to do to you,” he whispered against her jaw.
“i don’t have to guess,” she replied, catching his mouth with hers.
the door slammed behind them the second they stepped into her apartment.
Gemma didn’t even make it to the light switch before Lando pressed her against the wall, hands tangled in her hair, mouth crashing into hers like he needed her to breathe.
it wasn’t gentle.
it wasn’t romantic.
it was everything they’d been holding back all night.
he kissed her like he was angry she’d worn that dress. like he hated how much he wanted her. he knew he needs her. more than what they are now.
“Lando” she gasped when his mouth dropped to her throat.
“i couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he said against her skin. “sitting there in that dress… knowing what was underneath. what you wanted me to see.”
“you saw it,” she whispered.
“i see everything you do.”
he pulled the dress down. slow, deliberate. letting it slip from her shoulders like he was unwrapping something forbidden. The silk pooled at her feet. She stood in nothing but that black lace he hadn’t stopped imagining since the restaurant.
“fuck,” he breathed, stepping back to look at her. “you’re unreal.”
he kissed her again.
desperate. deep. full of things he couldn’t say. emotions he couldn't show.
the bedroom was a blur. clothes trailed across the floor like a breadcrumb trail back to sanity which they’d clearly abandoned. he laid her back on the sheets and knelt between her thighs, lips brushing her inner thigh, barely touching.
he took his time.
his mouth found her through the lace first. a soft moan escaped her lips as his tongue traced the edge of the fabric, teasing, testing. she arched into him and he pinned her down by the hips, eyes locked on hers the whole time.
“i guess you like that,” he murmured.
“i guess i do,” she whispered, breath shaky.
he pulled the underwear off with a slowness that made her want to scream. “i want to know what’s real. what’s not. if you’ll still want me tomorrow.”
“you never ask,” she said, voice breaking. “you just take.”
tonight, he kissed her like he was sorry for all the nights before. he kissed her with such passion and intensity. he kissed her with desire.
he positioned himself in line with her wet entrance. the tip brushing against her core.
"tonight i'm going to treat you right. show you how much you mean to me." he said and pushed slowly into her.
the two of them gasping for air. he pushed himself all the way in and kissed her as an apology for what is to come.
her nails dug into his back. his hand tangled in her hair. their mouths met between gasps and curses. every thrust was a plea, a punishment, a confession.
“i think about you when i shouldn’t,” he admitted between kisses and deep thrusts. “i miss you when i leave.”
“you only say that when you’re inside me.”
“because it’s the only time you listen.”
"sometimes you're such a brat. so needy for attention." he said as he flipped her over with ease.
she was on all fours. he spanked her ass a few times leaving red handprints on her skin. she hissed when he made contact her skin.
"sorry my baby." he said and ran his hand across her and placed a kiss on her back.
hands gripping her hips, pulling her against him. his cock slid through her folds, thick and hard and slick with her, and then
he pushed inside.
she let out a pornographic moan while Lando groaned about how tight she is.
she clawed at the sheets, moaning something that might’ve been his name and a combination of profanities.
he fucked her like he hated her. like he missed her. like he didn’t know what he wanted but he was sure it was her in this moment.
hard. deep. slamming into her from behind as the bed squeaked beneath them. his hands wrapped around her throat and her name left his lips like a curse.
“why do you let me do this to you?” he growled into her ear.
“because I want you.”
“just want me now?”
“i don’t know,” she whispered.
and it was true. she didn’t.
it was messy and reckless and blinding. her body was already falling apart again, orgasm building from the overstimulation, the rawness of his thrusts, the brutal ache of being wanted this much.
“look at me,” he said, pulling her upright so her back was to his chest, his cock still buried inside her.
she turned her head. their lips met in a kiss that was too soft for what they were doing, too real.
“i don’t want this to just be a thing,” he said suddenly, voice rough, mouth dragging down her neck. “i don’t want to keep pretending i don’t care. i do.”
her body tensed.
“i want more than sneaky links and nights you can’t talk about,” he said. “i want you. like you-you. all the time.”
The confession cracked her chest open. Her walls fell as he kept fucking into her, now slower, deeper, desperate for something beyond just getting off.
“you mean that?” she breathed.
“yes.”
and somehow, that was what tipped her over again. not his cock, not his mouth, not his hands, just that. him wanting more.
her orgasm shattered through her, tears prickling at her eyes. he followed with a groan, burying his face in her shoulder, hips stuttering as he spilled inside her.
they stayed there. still connected. still shaking. still trying to understand what had just happened.
Gemma turned her face toward him.
“i want that too,” she whispered.
and for the first time, neither of them had to guess.
