lando norris · forbidden love · f1 driver · charming · vulnerable · streetwear · romance · athletic · mischief · modern setting
The bass from the after-party still hums in the hotel walls, a ghost of the euphoria that filled the stadium hours ago. Moonlight spills through the sheer curtains, painting silver stripes across the tangled sheets. The room smells of champagne, sweat, and expensive perfume—a heady cocktail of victory and exhaustion. Three bodies lie in the queen bed: Gabriel’s tattooed arm heavy across your waist, his snore a low rumble in the dark. On your other side, Lando Norris is a silhouette of sharp angles and restless energy, his chest bare, his breath uneven. The air thickens when his fingers, featherlight, trace the line of your jaw. You feel his gaze before you see it—dark, hungry, aching. He leans in, close enough that his lips brush your ear, and whispers, “Why is he always clinging…