💍ᴛɪᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ʙɪɴᴅ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 7: ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʟɪꜰᴇᴛɪᴍᴇ💍
ꜰ1 x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪꜱ ᴀᴜ | ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ + ʜᴇᴀʀᴛᴀᴄʜᴇ + ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ
⚠️ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:
ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴠᴜʟɴᴇʀᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ
ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋᴜᴘꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴄᴏɴᴄɪʟɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
ᴅᴇᴘɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱʟᴏᴡ-ʙᴜʀɴ ɪɴᴛɪᴍᴀᴄʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴋɪɴᴅʟᴇᴅ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ
ᴄᴀʀᴇᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʟɪꜰᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ
ɴᴏɴ-ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴘᴏꜱᴀʟ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ
ɪɴᴛᴇɴꜱᴇ ꜱᴘᴏʀᴛꜱ-ʀᴇʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴘʀᴇꜱꜱᴜʀᴇ (ꜰ1 ʀᴀᴄɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇxᴛ)
It started as a casual thing, really.
An unspoken agreement.
Every few weeks, when Lando was home between races, he’d swing by Maison de Lys around lunchtime. No big declarations, no grand plans, just... him bringing takeaway or coffee, slipping into her office with an easy grin.
And slowly, what had once felt impossible, being friends again, being close, became natural.
The first time he’d shown up unannounced, (Y/n) had blinked in surprise.
She’d been hunched over her desk, hair in a loose knot, fingers flying across her laptop.
Then: three sharp knocks on the glass pane.
She looked up, and there he was, grinning through the door with two coffee cups in hand and a takeaway bag under his arm.
She opened the door, arching a brow. “Is this bribery?”
He laughed. “Depends. Will it get me ten minutes of your time?”
And somehow... it had.
From there, the habit stuck.
Some days it was coffee and pastries. Other times sandwiches from their favorite deli. Once, he’d even brought her a full sushi spread and a tiny potted plant for her desk.
(Y/n) found herself looking forward to those days more than she’d admit.
Not because of the food, though that helped. But because in those quiet hours, with no fans, no media, no clients buzzing in her ear, Lando was just... Lando.
Not the man everyone expected him to be. Not her ex, not the playboy the tabloids loved to paint.
Just... hers.
And she was learning to let herself be herself around him again.
It didn’t take long for Celeste to notice.
One particularly sunny afternoon, Lando was sitting cross-legged on the floor of (Y/n)’s office, unpacking Greek wraps and olives from a paper bag. (Y/n) perched on the edge of her desk, barefoot and laughing at one of his stories.
That’s when Celeste stuck her head through the door, arms full of swatch books.
“Well, well,” she teased, eyebrows lifting. “Look who’s made himself at home.”
(Y/n) rolled her eyes fondly. “He brought food. I’m easily bribed.”
Celeste grinned. “You know, I knew there was chemistry between you two during those wedding sessions. No one takes that much floral stress flirting unless there’s history.”
(Y/n)’s cheeks flushed. Lando smirked playfully.
“I plead the fifth,” he said.
Celeste laughed. “No need. It’s written all over your faces.”
She breezed off down the hall, leaving (Y/n) half-embarrassed, half-smiling.
Lando looked up at her, eyes sparkling. “She’s not wrong, you know.”
(Y/n)’s heart fluttered.
“No,” she murmured softly. “She’s not.”
And somehow, just like that... they were steady.
No grand declarations. No rush. Just a quiet, growing certainty.
TWO YEARS LATER
The change was so gradual, (Y/n) barely noticed it happening.
One day, Lando’s toothbrush was in her bathroom. Then an extra hoodie on her coat rack. Then—half his wardrobe in her closet.
He still traveled constantly. She still juggled her weddings. But between the flights and the races, he always came home to her.
And when he was away, texts, calls, late-night video chats kept them connected.
It wasn’t always easy. Their schedules clashed, tempers flared, exhaustion sometimes won.
But every time—every single time—they chose to stay. To fight for it.
It was the healthiest, most real relationship (Y/n) had ever known.
And if anyone had told her two years ago, when she’d walked out of his life, that this would be their future?
She wouldn’t have believed them.
The proposal wasn’t elaborate.
No fireworks. No staged moments.
Just... them.
It was late summer. Lando had just flown home after a brutal triple-header on the F1 calendar—jet-lagged, sunburned, running on fumes.
He’d texted her from the airport:
Lando: Missed you. See you in an hour?
When he arrived at her flat, she was curled up on the couch, wearing one of his hoodies, hair messy, face bare of makeup.
He dropped his bag, toed off his shoes, and flopped beside her with a groan.
She laughed, wrapping her arms around him. “Rough week?”
“The worst.” He nuzzled her shoulder. “This, being here, is the only part I was looking forward to.”
They lay there for a while, tangled together in easy silence.
Then, without preamble, he reached into his backpack.
Pulled out a small velvet box.
And set it on her knee.
(Y/n)’s breath caught.
“Lando...”
He sat up, gaze steady, voice rough with exhaustion, but full of certainty.
“I love you,” he said simply. “More than anything. And I’m done waiting.”
She blinked, heart pounding.
He opened the box, revealing a simple, stunning ring. Classic. Elegant. So them.
“Marry me,” he said softly. “Please.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
She cupped his cheek, voice trembling. “Of course I will.”
He kissed her, slow, deep, full of emotion.
But when they finally pulled apart, she hesitated.
“There’s just... one thing,” she said, trying to steady her breath.
His brows lifted. “Name it.”
(Y/n) gave a watery laugh. “We’re not planning the wedding this year. Or next. It has to be at least three years from now.”
He blinked. “Three years?”
“I need time,” she explained. “My calendar’s insane, and... I want us to enjoy being engaged. Not rush it.”
Lando groaned dramatically, flopping back on the cushions.
“You’re killing me,” he muttered.
She giggled, tugging his arm playfully. “You’ll survive.”
But then, he sat up, a gleam in his eye.
“Okay. How about this?” he said. “If I win the Driver’s Championship next season... we move the wedding up. One year after I win.”
(Y/n) laughed. “That’s a big ‘if’.”
He shrugged. “You’re worth it.”
She pretended to consider, then smiled slyly. “Fine. If you win, we do it sooner.”
He grinned, eyes sparkling. “Deal.”
They sealed it with another kiss, both knowing the odds weren’t in his favor.
But neither cared.
In that moment, nothing else mattered but them.
ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX
The season that followed was... electric.
Lando drove like a man possessed, more focused than she’d ever seen him. Race after race, podium after podium.
And with each victory, whispers grew louder.
Was this finally his year?
(Y/n) watched from the sidelines, heart in her throat every weekend, proud, anxious, hopeful.
She’d thought the bet was playful. That it would buy them time.
But as the championship drew closer, suddenly, it didn’t seem so impossible.
And when the final race came, Abu Dhabi, under the floodlights, Lando crossed the finish line first.
World Champion.
Against all odds, he’d done it.
The second his car rolled into parc fermé, helmet off, tears in his eyes, his first words to the team weren’t about the title.
They were about her.
“I need to call (Y/n),” he said hoarsely.
And when her phone rang, shaking hands barely managing to answer, his voice was pure joy.
“You’d better start planning, love,” he laughed. “We’re getting married next year.”
Tears streamed down her face.
“Deal’s a deal,” she whispered, heart full. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” he said. “Always.”
To be continued...🧡
💍ᴛɪᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ʙɪɴᴅ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 8: ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛꜱ ɴᴏᴡ💍
📝 Note from the Author: Second post of the day, my Alarwynnitessss~ 💛 Yes yes, your girl is on a roll and guess what? This is the second to the last oneeee heeheehee. We’re almost at the finish line, and I’m hanging on by the edge of my seat with Lando’s championship arc like it’s my own personal F1 season finale.
Now let’s talk about this chapter: Started with coffee runs and soft office flirting... ended with a whole engagement ring on the couch. Like, HELLO? I did not sign up for this much softness from a man who used to wear bucket hats unironically. And (Y/n)? Giving us boundaries, career goals, and a three-year engagement clause? She’s winning and she knows it. Honestly, Celeste deserves a raise just for witnessing all this unfold while carrying swatch books like a rom-com side character with taste.
As always, this was inspired by everlovingdeer and her one-shot from Love and All Things Fake (check it out on Wattpad if you haven’t yet—it’s so good I nearly cried over fake dating tropes).
Also, if any of you feel this is too similar or even bordering on plagiarism, please don’t hesitate to comment. I’ll delete it instantly. No drama, no backflips, no fight scenes. I am not built for fandom wars, Alarwynnites HAHAHAHA 💀
Thank you again for reading, loving, and staying with this story. Your support means the world. See you in the next (and final!) post soon!
With love, me 🧡
Taglist:
@taebearyoongs, @mimisweetz, @belpsbelps, @lemon-stvrrr, @annisassintchaska, @barcelonaloverf1life, @landofotographyy, @ganana, @f1fantasys, @h34rts4maisey
