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cutieln4 · 6 months ago

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made it all look painless, man am i the greatest? | LN4 fanfic

lando norris x oscar piastri (can be read as platonic or romantic)

a/n: hi guys! i wrote an actual lando fanfic like no OC or self-insert or anything, and i also cross-posted it on ao3. it's really angsty but has a good ending so make sure to read the warnings carefully! and as someone who's gone through this stuff, this is in no way romanticizing it. if you are struggling please reach out for help, my DMs are always open!

summary: After Lando's first win, things were supposed to get better. But it only gets so, so much worse.

WARNINGS: suicidal thoughts, self-harm, eating disorders, panic attacks, suicide attempt

After Miami, Lando thought that things would get easier. He was no longer "Lando Nowins." He had finally proved everyone wrong and got that win.

But then, the season continued. It became clear that the Mclaren was consistently challenging for wins. He almost won again in Imola, he missed out on a podium in Monaco due to a red flag, and an untimely safety car lost him the win in Canada.

And suddenly, everyone was trying to conjure up a championship fight out of nowhere.

In Spain, he took his first pole position of the season. Maybe things were starting to look up. Maybe Mclaren actually had a chance this year.

But then he had to go and ruin it just like he always does by fucking up the start, and Max beat him again. He tried to choke down his disappointment during media, unconsciously biting and picking at the skin around his fingernails as the interviewers picked apart his mistakes.

And then Austria happened. He was faster, but he couldn't pass Max. He tried over and over, making silly mistakes as his frustration built. But then, they made contact. He had to retire, yet Max still extended his lead by 10 points.

Lando's chest was tight and he felt like he couldn't breathe as he climbed out of the car. He relished in the pain of ripping the skin off his fingers as he gave his interviews.

He skipped his dinner that night, the pit in his stomach making him too nauseous to eat anything. He spent the whole debrief focusing on not hyperventilating.

When he got back to the hotel, he had a few of the drinks in the minibar, just to help him fall asleep. The numbness he felt almost made up for the pain from the day.

The next day, he texted Max and then went on a run until his legs and lungs nearly collapsed. The burning pain in his chest felt better than the nauseating lump in his stomach.

Silverstone was next, and he finally got to see his whole family, which made the anxiety melt a little.

But then, he fucked up again. That might have been his only opportunity to win his home race, and he fucked it up because he couldn't pick the right tire. It was just like Sochi all over again. He tried not to let the disappointment on his family's face affect him.

There was finally a little break after Silverstone where he could spend some time not thinking about racing. Yet somehow, every time he tried to relax, he couldn't stop thinking about his mistakes, and his nails dug into his skin.

Hungary was even worse. He had to give up a 6-second lead on the second-to-last lap just because he was too stubborn not to switch positions right after he undercut Oscar and race him later on. So stupid.

The radio messages from Will haunted him. You're going to need Oscar, and you're going to need the team.

Then why did he feel like they were never there for him?

He ruined Oscar's first win. He tainted it. He only has himself to blame when Oscar looks disheartened during the tense debrief, but he can't bring himself to apologize. He can't even bring himself to look at him. It's all Lando's fault.

They go out that night to celebrate, and although Lando wants nothing more than to lock himself in his room and not talk to anyone, he feels like he owes it to Oscar to be there.

He ends up taking way too many shots way too quickly, or maybe it's the fact that he hasn't eaten all day, but he's drunk out of his mind as he sits in the VIP booth Mclaren bought out.

The table is spinning in front of him, and the euphoric feeling that the alcohol brings is enough to distract himself from his self-deprecating thoughts. He startles when someone slides into the seat next to him.

"Are you okay?" Oscar asks him, eyes wide as he holds a half-empty drink.

Lando just nods, looking down to avoid eye contact. "Good job, today," he says numbly, but he hopes Oscar knows he's being sincere. It's silent for a moment.

"I'm sorry–"

"Why are you apologizing?" he cuts Oscar off harshly. "I'm the one that didn't let you pass when they told me to. I'm the one who fucked up the start and put us in the situation to begin with."

"I know, but–"

"But nothing. I fucked up everything just like always, and now I've ruined your first win. 'M not sure how you still tolerate being around me, but you should probably leave like everyone else before I ruin your life too."

He didn't mean to say all of that, but the words just kept coming out. And now Oscar is staring at him with a look of shock. He opens his mouth to say something, but Lando quickly stands up and pushes his way to the bathroom before he can.

Once Lando locks himself in one of the stalls, he immediately slides down the wall, head buried in his knees as his breathing quickens. He doesn't know he's crying until his tears are soaking his pants.

Painful whimpers leave his mouth as he scratches at his throat, willing to allow himself to breathe again. His nails rip into his skin, clawing down his throat and his arms.

He stays there until his breath returns and his arms are rubbed raw. Then, he gets up, orders more shots at the bar, closes out his tab, and calls an Uber to take him back to the hotel.

The shots just start kicking in as he stumbles into the backseat of the car. He feels himself going numb again, and he breathes a sigh of relief. He stares out the window the whole ride, trying not to throw up as the world spins.

Finally, he stumbled back to his hotel room and went into the bathroom, and he just stared at himself in the mirror. He's so fucking useless. Everyone hates him. And if they don't, they will eventually.

Lando considers punching the mirror in front of him and imagine that he's really punching his face, but instead, he flops onto his bed and hopes his hangover the next day isn't too bad.

He's off to Belgium the next morning. His mum told him his grandma was getting sicker and it sounded like she didn't have much longer left.

She passed just before the weekend started. Seeing his mum cry had been one of the most painful parts of it. He at least got to see her one more time before she left. But of course, it had to be right before the Belgian race.

Winning here would mean so much after what happened. He wanted to do this for her and his whole family. He couldn't let them down.

Max was also taking an engine penalty, so this weekend should've been a good opportunity to gain points on him in the championship.

Yet he could only manage 4th in qualifying, and the race went even worse. He was stuck behind Max for several laps, but he just couldn't get past.

6th. 6th in a "rocketship," as everyone liked to call it. Why did Mclaren even want him? He couldn't even finish in front of Max, who started way behind him.

He disappointed his family, he disappointed his team, he disappointed his fans, he disappointed everyone. He didn't even want to see what people were saying about him online. He already knew that he was a fraud, he didn't need others pointing it out as well.

He let Max Fewtrell drag him around during the summer break, and he spent the whole time dodging Max's worried glances and acting like he was having fun. The only time it was bearable was when they went out and he was several drinks deep, too drunk out of his mind to even think about racing and his failures.

Nearly every night he got blackout drunk. He didn't see the problem with it, but it raised red flags with his best friend.

"How are you doing, really?" Max asked him when they went out to lunch, just the two of them.

Lando wrinkled his nose, looking off to the side to avoid eye contact. "I'm fine."

Max sighed, seeing right through his bullshit. "Dude, come on."

"I don't know why everyone is acting like I'm falling apart! This is the first time I have a chance at the championship, I think it's only reasonable that I'm acting a little different," Lando replied, exasperated. He was sick of everyone acting like something was wrong with him.

"Right, because getting wasted every night is a healthy coping mechanism?"

Lando laughed, dryly. "I'm on fucking vacation. If you're going to talk about feelings and bullshit the whole time I might as well fucking leave!"

And with that, he dug some money out of his wallet, slapped it on the table, and left.

Another relationship he fucked up. Just like always.

He spends the rest of the summer break alone in Monaco.

He's lost more weight by the time he arrives at Zandvoort. Jon asks how he was eating over the break, and he insists that he's been following his meal plan.

He just can't eat. There's a churning in his stomach that makes him want to throw up at the thought of food.

Lando gets pole on Saturday. It should feel good, but it doesn't, he knows he's gonna lose the lead on the first lap anyway, just like what everyone says.

He beats Max by 23 seconds, but his face is stone-cold as he poses for the cameras. He still messed up the start, if it wasn't for his pace, Max would've won again.

The interviewers point out his mistakes, the team points out his mistakes, and everyone points out his mistakes. And now people are giving him death threats and calling him arrogant and egotistical because he said 2 words after the race.

He thinks about what would happen if he were gone, if he did what so many people said and removed himself from this world. Perhaps everything would be better that way. He scratches his arms until they're raw whilst he ponders it.

He makes it to Monza. He pulls off another pole and gets a ring for it. It's even a 1-2 with Oscar.

Max is starting in 7th, which means this could be another good opportunity to gain on him in the championship.

His start is good, he's actually leading through turn 1, but then Oscar gets him in the second chicane. It's a good overtake, Lando can't deny, but it gets him out of sorts and Charles passes him too.

Neither Oscar nor Lando ends up winning. What should've easily been a 1-2 turns into a disappointing 2-3.

Some sick part of him feels satisfied when Oscar looks dejected after the race, but he immediately scolds himself for it, guilt flooding him.

When he gets back to his hotel room, he can't help but scroll on social media, and he sees the interviews from Andrea.

"We're only concerned about the constructor's championship."

"The future is Oscar's."

Oh.

The team doesn't even believe in him anymore. They don't think Lando can win the championship. He's only a year and a half older than Oscar, but they're acting like Lando's nearing retirement.

His chest tightens as his breath hitches. He can't breathe. He opens his phone and his thumb hovers over Max Fewtrell's contact, but he throws his phone on the bed instead of calling him.

He's gasping for air as he stumbles to the bathroom, his whole body shaking. They don't believe in him. He's a failure.

Lando scratches at his arms but it's not enough. Tears start forming in his eyes, blurring his vision. He still can't breathe. Why can't he breathe?

He grabs his razor and smashes it with one of his hair product bottles. The blades separate and with trembling fingers, he grabs one and holds it to his arm.

He presses the razor into his skin, then slowly drags it across. The stinging pain is welcoming. It's a different kind of pain than just scratching at his arms. He watches as the blood beads up, and his lungs open up just a bit.

He keeps going a couple more times until his breathing is almost back to normal, and he just stares at the blood. It feels good. He deserves the pain after all his mistakes.

He stays there until the blood is dried, and then he eventually cleans it up and collapses in his bed. He feels guilty. He feels lonely. He still feels like he wants to die. All he does is squeeze his eyes shut and hope he falls asleep soon. He doesn't.

He's scared Jon will see, but he's also scared that Jon will say he deserves the pain for messing up so many times. He wears long sleeves and is extra careful.

Then, an unnecessary yellow flag in Baku causes him to get out in Q1. If he had any hopes of the championship, it just died. He's confident he'll get in the points, but he still needs to get ahead of Max, and even just one place ahead wouldn't be good enough.

Oscar wins, and Lando only got 4th because of Carlos and Checo crashing. He was in front of Max, though.

He's happy for Oscar, but he can't help but imagine what it would've been if he'd qualified near the front like he was supposed to.

At least Mclaren was leading the constructor's championship now.

Lando can't help but feel ashamed. His teammate, who's only in his 2nd year, has tied his number of wins again. How pathetic is that?

Things start looking up in Singapore. Lando is immediately quick, and he gets pole by a large margin. However, he's starting next to Max. He doesn't celebrate too soon.

But, he manages to keep the lead the entire race, leading by nearly 30 seconds at one point. He's pushing, though, and the heat starts getting to him. Maybe he should've eaten before the race, because his focus slips, and he almost goes into the wall because of a lockup. Will tells him to cool it and take a drink after that.

He's still making silly mistakes, even when he's all alone on the track.

He feels nothing when he crosses the chequered flag and the fireworks go off for him.

They have a month off, which Lando actually wouldn't prefer with the momentum they've been having. It gives him time to get his mind off racing, though.

Yet the whole time, he couldn't get rid of the ache and constant nervousness in his stomach. All he could think about was the stupid championship and the disappointment he would give people if he lost it.

When he got to Austin, he just prayed that they would be quick.

Instead, they were immediately struggling. It was extremely bumpy despite the track being resurfaced, and they didn't do well in those conditions.

The sprint wasn't great. His start was good, for once, making up several places in the first corner, but the pace wasn't there. In the end, he loses out to Carlos because of a stupid lockup, and he nearly gets done by Charles too. Max still extends his lead in the championship.

He curses himself for his mistakes. He doesn't eat until after qualifying later that day, but it must've helped because he managed to get pole.

The race is disappointing. He messes up turn 1, again. The car feels like shit, his back is killing him from the bumpy surface, and he's getting frustrated.

He catches up to Max and tries over and over again to pass him. But Max is a great defender, he knows exactly where to place the car, and it just frustrates him more.

Max pushes him off the track, but Lando finally gets ahead. Will tells him that he's being investigated, but that he was ahead at the apex. But the stewards tell him he wasn't, and the penalty takes him off the podium, putting Max ahead of him so he extends his lead again.

The team tries not to look disappointed in him, but he can see it clearly in their faces. Lando was sloppy and careless with his overtake. He's too nauseous to eat, and he cut his thighs that night while he was staving off a panic attack.

He should've just given the fucking place back. Part of him resents Will, he's the one who told him it was fine, after all. But in the end, Lando knows it is on him.

They arrive in Mexico and Jon is starting to notice. His weight loss is "concerning," as Jon puts it. But he doesn't understand that Lando just can't stomach any food. He's already a picky eater, anyway.

It definitely has nothing to do with the fact that he doesn't feel satisfied unless his stomach is cramping in pain and he feels empty, but light.

Jon also comments on how exhausted he looks, and Lando tells him he hasn't been sleeping well. It's not a lie, after all. Jon gets him prescribed some sleeping pills that are supposed to help. Lando doesn't take them.

Carlos and Ferrari have been dominating the whole weekend, and now there's pressure with the constructor's championship as well as the driver's.

Lando qualifies third. Max qualifies in front of him, even in a shit car. Lando should feel a little consolation considering his teammate got knocked out in Q1, but he can't help but feel useless.

On race day, Lando is battling with Max again, and he does everything in his power not to repeat Austria.

When Max completely pushes him off the track, all he feels is rage. A part of him feels betrayed, but most of all, he is frustrated. He knows his relationship with Max off-track is thrown out the window on track, but it hurts when his friend completely violates the rules just to mess up his race and possibly cause him to crash out.

His pace is rapid at the end of the race. He gets past Charles, but he can't catch Carlos. He thinks that maybe this was Max's plan all along.

But a day later, he and Max are talking normally again, and sometimes Lando hates himself for how easily he forgives people.

Mclaren was supposed to be quick in Brazil, and Max was taking another grid penalty. The pressure was high. The result of this weekend would either make or break his championship hopes.

During the sprint, Oscar lets him through at the end to let him win. He should be glad that he gained points on Max, but all he can feel is the guilt coursing through him.

Maybe everyone was right, he didn't deserve the championship if he had to get team orders. He cuts that night after qualifying is canceled.

He gets pole early Sunday morning and Max is starting 17th. He needs to win this one, otherwise, the championship will surely be over and he'll let the team down.

But the race quickly unfolds into a disaster. An untimely red flag means Max gets a free tire change and starts in P3 with just the Alpines in the way.

Lando can't turn at the restart. He goes straight and runs off the track, and the disaster of a race gets worse for him. He spends the rest of the laps focusing on not binning it in the wall.

It's a relief when he crosses the chequered flag.

The debrief is tense and the air is filled with disappointment. Lando can see it in everyone's faces. He spots Oscar giving him looks of pity. He wants nothing more than to have the ground swallow him up and take him away forever so he doesn't have to face anyone.

He quickly returns to his hotel, and he can't hold it in anymore. The nausea that has become permanent in his stomach is even worse, and he rushes to the toilet as he gags up spit and stomach acid from his empty stomach.

Tears prick his eyes but he wills them back, he cannot be weak right now.

Once he's in bed, he hesitantly looks at his phone. He has a text from Max Fewtrell, who he hadn't talked to since summer break. Lando knows he needs to apologize to his best friend, but it's just easier not having someone who will nag about his emotions or how he's coping.

He opens Twitter. He never should've re-downloaded it, but it was too late now. Immediately, he sees a clip from his interview in which he said that getting to change tires under a red flag is luck not talent.

However, people are changing it, not including the question that literally asked about the red flag. They think he's talking about Max's driving.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he opens the comments.

Arrogant, talentless, egotistical, worthless.

Kill yourself.

There are several death threats and people telling him to kill himself. All of this over a comment that was taken out of context.

A wet laugh bubbles up in his throat. As if he hadn't already thought about it, killing himself. It would be so easy. Especially with the sleeping pills that Jon got him.

But, he can't. He can't let the team down, he still has a constructor's championship to win. At least give them a little something as payback for all their hard work to give him an amazing car.

Lando scrolls until he can't take it anymore, and he throws his phone at the wall, a pained shout leaving his mouth. He bites his sleeve to keep himself from sobbing. He can't breathe. His chest is tight and it feels like his lungs have closed up.

He stumbles out of bed and gets to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and grabbing his razor. He resorts to cutting himself again to make the pain go away. He doesn't sleep that night.

Jon drags him out of bed and to the airport so he can go home. He's thankful, even though he'd rather lay in bed all day.

When he gets to Monaco, it's nighttime there. Lando goes straight to his apartment, not bothering to unpack, and curls up in his bed. He hasn't eaten or slept since the race, but he just can't. The thoughts consume him.

How can I be better? Why am I so useless? Why did I fail?

After 40 hours, he'd tired himself out enough to finally fall asleep, but he still couldn't stomach anything to eat. His ribs poke out now, but he doesn't care. He just can't.

Las Vegas passes in a flash. The media beforehand was exhausting, but it was an incredibly mediocre race from him. P6, but nearly 30 seconds away from Max who was in P5.

Max's P5 also seals the championship for him. It's a bittersweet feeling. Lando knew the championship was pretty much over after Brazil, but now that it was official, it kind of felt like some sort of relief.

But soon, it was replaced with pressure to get the constructor's championship after Ferrari outscored them.

When they arrive in Qatar, it is not nearly as hot as last year, thankfully.

He qualifies on pole for the sprint and Oscar is in P3. He decides right there that if the chance arises, he's letting Oscar win. He's sick of the guilt that's been eating him up ever since that Saturday in Brazil. Oscar deserves it as well, after everything he's done this year to try to help.

The sprint goes as planned with Lando letting Oscar by right at the end, finishing 1-2. But when it comes to qualifying, they only manage 3-4. It's ahead of the Ferraris, though.

There's a knock on his driver's room door as he's packing up at the end of the day.

"Come in!"

Oscar peeks his head in, then lets himself in and closes the door behind him.

"Hey mate, what's up?" Lando asks him, stuffing a shirt into his backpack.

"Hey, um, thanks for earlier, during the sprint. I really appreciated that."

"No worries, it's the least I could do."

Oscar hesitates. "Um, I actually wanted to, uh, check up on you. We haven't really talked in a while and, well, you just seem a little distant lately. I just wanted to ask if you're okay? I understand if I'm overstepping here, but I've just been a little worried."

Lando averts eye contact. "Oh. I...I'm okay," he replies, digging his fingernails into his palms until it stings. "Just a lot of pressure with the season, y'know? I appreciate you for asking, though. Thank you."

"Yeah, of course. Well, I'm here if you ever want to talk, yeah?"

Lando looks at him, trying to find ulterior motives but only finding sincerity. "Yeah, the same applies with me, mate. Thanks."

With that, Oscars nods, says goodbye, then walks out the door. The conversation leaves Lando standing in his driver's room zoning out at the wall, contemplating what Oscar said to him.

The race is hectic, but once they get going again after all the yellow flags and the debris from the mirror getting picked up, Lando is right on the tail of Max, hoping to find a gap to squeeze through.

"We have a 10-second stop-and-go penalty," Will tells him on the radio suddenly.

Lando's heart stutters. What? A stop-and-go penalty? Everyone's bunched up after the safety car, he's gonna end up last.

"For what?" he asks, still stunned.

"Failing to slow under the yellow flags. We will serve the penalty this lap."

Lando doesn't respond. He's trying to rack through his brain to think of when that could be, but he can't come up with anything. He didn't see a yellow flag that he didn't slow for, and Will didn't tell him anything either.

His body is tense, partly with anger at the harsh penalty and partly with disappointment at himself.

"I'm sorry," he says after he crosses the chequered flag in P10.

He's met with silence, but that speaks for itself.

The debrief is tense. Everyone knows that the constructor's championship is on the line, and everyone is disappointed in him for potentially fucking up all their hard work. Oscar pats his back, but Lando knows he's just as disappointed.

He stays afterward and watches the onboard over and over again while ripping the skin off his fingers. There's no light on his dash, the lights on the side aren't lit up, there's only marshals waving barely visible flags while he's going 200 mph down the straight.

He watches Max's onboard. His engineer warns him about the yellow flags. He watches everyone else's onboards and their engineers warn them about the yellow flags. But Will didn't warn him, in fact, he told him to go even faster to catch up to Max.

He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, then he shuts the computer off and rushes to his driver's room to get his stuff. He feels like he's going to explode with anger.

He slams the door shut and punches the wall. The walls are sturdy enough so they don't break, but Lando's hand is aching and it feels good. He does it again.

He feels his breathing quicken as tears well up in his eyes. His legs give out on him as he collapses to the floor, curling up into a ball as he cries into his knees. Painful, distressed whimpers leave his mouth as he sobs uncontrollably.

Between the crying and the panic attack, he can't breathe, and that only makes him panic more, his chest heaving as he desperately tries to get air in his lungs.

His door opens abruptly. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Oscar rush in and kneel in front of him.

"Lando, it's okay! Shh, it's okay, please calm down. You need to breathe."

Oscar is looking at him with wide eyes, unsettled from seeing his normally strong teammate like this. Lando looks back at him with desperation, urgently trying to stop his crying.

When more of Oscar's pleas don't work, he hesitantly wraps his arms around Lando, letting Lando collapse into him as he cries.

It takes a few minutes for Lando to stop crying. When he does, he pushes out of Oscar's arms, scrambling to get up.

"I, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, you shouldn't have seen me like that," Lando rambles on as he scratches at his wrist.

"It's okay. Do you want to, um, talk about it?" Oscar asks as he pushes himself off the floor, but he doesn't seem sure of it and Lando finds himself doubting the sincerity of the offer.

"No! No, no, I'm fine. Just the stupid penalty, s'all. I'm fine," he insists, mustering up a smile that doesn't meet his eyes.

Oscar looks conflicted, but eventually, he nods. "Um, okay. Well, if you ever want to talk, I'm here."

It's the second time Oscar has offered to talk within two days, and Lando curses himself for losing it like he did a few minutes ago. He needs to keep it together.

They're immediately off to Abu Dhabi the next day. Oscar doesn't bring up what happened but he keeps giving concerned glances toward Lando. Lando just really fucking hopes that they can pull off the constructors championship.

The weekend starts well. Charles will be starting P19 and they qualified 1-2 with Carlos behind them. All they needed was to hopefully maintain the 1-2 through turn 1, then it should be smooth sailing.

But, nothing is smooth sailing in Formula 1, and Oscar gets spun around by Max at turn 1, dropping him all the way to last. Then to top it all off, he gets a 10-second penalty for a separate incident.

So, the weight of the world rests on Lando's shoulders. No pressure at all.

But, Lando stays in the lead the whole race, driving flawlessly until he crosses the chequered flag after 58 laps. It feels like he can actually breathe for the first time in a very long time. He raises his fists to the sky as the fireworks explode for him and his team. He lets his head tilt back as he sighs in relief

The team is so ecstatic, and that manages to put on smile on his face. He and Oscar sip champagne together, bottles raised towards the night sky as their team surrounds them. For Lando, it's perfect. Just one perfect moment of satisfaction.

On his way back to Monaco, he makes a stop in England. He spends a day with his family, and then the next day he goes over to Max Fewtrell's apartment to see him.

"Hey," Lando simply says when Max opens the door to his apartment.

Max stares at him with a slight look of shock before letting him in. Lando greets Max's girlfriend, Pietra, who then excuses herself to Max and her's room, almost as if she knew him and Max were talking about something serious.

"Where have you been, mate? You haven't answered any of my texts," Max says.

"I know, I'm sorry. I've been a shitty friend. And I'm sorry for my outburst during summer break."

"I just wish you'd tell me what's going on."

"I'm fine, really. Jon has it all handled. He knows I've been going through some shit this year. I'm...getting better, I'll be better." The lie feels sour on his tongue, but it's for the better.

They catch up a bit, and Lando hugs him extra tight when he leaves.

When Lando gets back to Monaco, he gets his affairs in order, he cleans his apartment, and then he writes his letters. He writes one for each of his family members, Max F, Jon, and Oscar.

He puts the letters in a neat pile on his counter, then he grabs a bottle of vodka, drinking straight from the bottle as he heads to his bedroom.

He lays on top of the covers in bed, so there will be no hassle for whoever finds him.

He grabs the prescribed sleeping pills and starts swallowing whatever is left of them in groups of 5 or 6, washing it down with the vodka.

He gags as he struggles to swallow, but he pushes it down. He can feel himself getting more drowsy, and the vodka bottle bangs against his nightstand as he sets it down.

As his eyes close, there's only one thing Lando is feeling; peace.

~~~~~~~~~~

After Lando visited Max, Max had a feeling that something was off. He knew Lando was having a tough time, and there was just a feeling in his stomach that gnawed at him.

Eventually, he picked up his phone and made a call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Oscar, it's Max Fewtrell. Um, sorry, I know we haven't talked in a while, but, you live in Monaco, right?"

"Um, yeah."

"Okay, I have a really big favor to ask, and feel free to say no, but I was wondering if there was any way you could go over to Lando's and check up on him? He just seemed really off when I saw him the other day."

"Yeah, yeah, of course I'll go, it's no problem."

"Great, thank you so much! If he doesn't answer, his spare key is in the plant next to his door."

"Okay, I'll text you after."

Oscar had an unsettled feeling in his stomach as he made the short walk over to Lando's apartment complex.

He knocked on the door a couple of times and waited, but there was no answer. Maybe he was just out, Oscar tried to reason as he dug through the plant beside the door in search of the key.

With a deep breath, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

"Lando?" he called out, taking a look around.

The place was spotless. Nothing was lying around, the tables and counters were clear of everything besides a small pile of letters. Stepping closer, he rummaged through to find that they were all labeled with names, including his.

The blood drained from Oscar's face, a cold chill running down his spine as he realized what this meant.

"Lando!" he called more urgently, running through the apartment trying to find him.

He stopped at the bathroom, but he wasn't there. Then he spotted it, the bedroom door was closed.

Without thinking, Oscar slammed the door open, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight. Lando was lying on top of his covers, eyes closed. Next to him was a bottle of pills and a bottle of vodka. Quickly, Oscar rushed to his side.

"Lando! Lando, wake up! Please, wake up!" he pleaded as he shook the man, but he was unresponsive.

With violently trembling hands, he pulled out his phone to dial emergency services.

"What is your emergency?"

"Help, please! My friend overdosed, and he won't wake up!"

He quickly told the operator the address.

"Is he breathing?"

Oscar held his own breath as he leaned down to listen to Lando, a sigh escaping as he heard slow, weak breaths coming from the man, which he reported to the operator. Then, remembering his medical training, he took the man's thin wrist, taking his pulse. It was also slow, which he told the operator.

"Okay, emergency services will be there in about 2 minutes, are you alright if I hang up?"

"Yeah, yeah," he replied offhandedly, full focus on Lando.

Oscar put his phone back in his pocket and picked up the pill bottle. He didn't recognize the medication name, but the instructions implied that they were sleeping pills. The bottle was empty.

"Please, please, please, Lando. Please be okay," he whispered, tears falling down his cheeks as guilt started eating at him.

He knew something was wrong, he should've seen the signs earlier. He could've stopped this.

He kept his eyes on Lando the whole time until the paramedics showed up.

Everything felt like a blur, and suddenly he was in the waiting room, head in his hands.

Fuck, he had to tell Max and his family.

Hands still trembling, he got his phone out. He had Adam's number, and with sweaty palms, he dialed it.

"Oscar?"

"Hey, um, I, I'm not sure how to tell you this, but something happened to Lando. He tried to, to kill himself."

It was silent for a moment. "What?" Adam replied, voice sounding heartbroken and watery.

"He overdosed. He's stable, though, we're at the hospital in Monaco."

"We'll be there right away," Adam replied, voice cracking before he hung up.

He didn't want to know what Cisca's reaction would be.

One down.

Next, he called Max F.

"What's wrong?" Max immediately asked, knowing Oscar would've just texted if everything was okay.

"Lando um, he overdosed," he said, the words not getting any easier the more he said them.

Max inhaled sharply. "What? Is, is he okay?"

"We're at the hospital. He was alive, but I don't know anything else. His family's on his way, you could see if you could come with them."

"Yeah, I will. Oscar, thank you. I can't–" his voice broke off with a sob. "I can't imagine what would've happened if you hadn't checked up on him."

Oscar didn't want to imagine that either.

"You were the one who knew something was wrong," he replied.

"Still, thank you," Max said, then hung up.

After that, everything went silent. Oscar was still shaking.

It felt like hours until the nurse finally came out to talk to him, and he was still shaking then, too.

"Oscar, right? You're listed as his emergency contact, so you can come see him," the nurse told him, as he quickly scampered up to follow her.

They stepped into Lando's room, and Oscar felt the air leave his lungs. Lando was sleeping, wires connected to his body all over. He looked weak and vulnerable, it made Oscar's heart break.

"The EMTs administered the antidote to reverse the effects of the overdose and the doctor had to pump his stomach as well. But right now, he is stable, and recovery looks good. He should be awake soon, you can press the button if you need anything if you need anything."

With that, the nurse left. Oscar was zoning out the whole time while staring at Lando, so he knew they'd need to repeat that to his parents. When the door closed, he finally snapped out of it and took a hesitant seat next to the bed.

He took in Lando's appearance now that he was closer.

He was pale, so unusual compared to his dark tan. Wires disappeared under his hospital gown. An IV was inserted in his forearm, tape covering the area, holding it down.

The pit in Oscar's stomach grew as he raked his eyes further down Lando's arm. His breathing halted when he saw the scars on Lando's wrist. There was no mistaking that Lando did that to himself, and the thought brings tears to his eyes. He never knew Lando was struggling so much.

He scoots closer to the bed, not taking his eyes off Lando. It's not long until Lando's eyelids are fluttering and a quiet groan leaves his mouth.

"Osc?" Lando asks, voice hoarse, likely from the tube they had to stick down his throat while they pumped his stomach.

"Hey, I'm here, you're okay. Your family is on their way," he reassures, unconsciously grabbing the older man's hand.

"What–how did you find me?"

"Max called, he was worried about you, so I–I stopped by. You, you were barely breathing," Oscar breaks off with a sob, a tear finally falling. "I thought I was gonna lose you," he whispered.

"Oh, Osc," Lando's own eyes well up with tears, and his grip on Oscar's hand tightens. "I'm–I'm so sorry. Nobody was meant to find me," he said, looking down.

"Well I'm fucking glad I did, you would've been fucking dead if Max hadn't called," his voice cracks as more tears escape his eyes. "Why...why did you do it?"

It was silent for a moment. "I didn't want to keep letting everyone down," Lando whispered, voice barely audible. "I thought it would just be better if...if I was gone."

"Fuck, Lan, you know that's not true, right? You mean so much to so many people, you don't even know it. We've all been so worried about you because we care about you. Your family, Max, the rest of the grid, me. I wouldn't know what to do if you weren't here anymore. The world is a better place because you're a part of it."

And that seemed to be the breaking point for Lando because he then broke down in sobs.

"I'm, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," he weeps, making Oscar's heart ache.

Oscar lowers the side guard and squeezes into the bed next to Lando, wrapping his arms around him while the older cries into his chest. Oscar rubs his back, whispering reassurances into his ear. It takes a while until he calms down.

"Just, promise me that you'll get better, that you'll get help. And talk to someone the next time you are struggling so badly. Me, Jon, your family, anyone. Just, please, don't do this again."

"I promise," Lando whispers back. And he means it.

#f1 #formula 1 #lando norris #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #landoscar #lando norris x oscar piastri #max verstappen #max fewtrell #lando norris fanfic #oscar piastri fanfic

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cutieln4 · 7 months ago

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Pure Chaos Pt. 9 | F1 smau

f1 grid x reader

a/n: um...hey? sorry it's been a while

the taglist for this series is closed, sorry

taglist: @tremendousstarlighttragedy @scenesofobx @agiscool @rxouxcesss @d3kstar @ln8118 @checoracing @destinyg237 @formula1-motogpfan @tellybearryyyy @mayusaatma @1800-love-me @annabellelee @reeltreble @alldaysdreamer @eykismyfav @magixpracticality @hannah44444-blog @reesemon @coriyaps @faeriepigeons @ravisinghs-wife @plotpal @mastermindbaby @tvdtw4ever @danielricswife @bellatrix-lestrange5 @idontknowanythingsblog @ririyulife @gigigreens @the-long-gone-souls @dwarfwithstyle @loganmay19 @eywas-heir @papaya-twinks @pear-1206 @littlehoneyfreak @petrifying-risotto @meadhbhcavanagh @waywardsestras @leptitlu @planet-faerie @geniusalpaca @emmynotawards @quickstappen @carlottasa @dramaticpiratellamas @neferaskingdom @redpool @avagracekeating @jahawkw @1633sthings @angstynasty @bby-aj @elegancefr @dim-paper-lanterns @samantharaytanner @sophielikesdeadmen @amz824 @lifesass @bookishprophecy

#f1 #formula 1 #lando norris #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smau #max verstappen #f1 imagine #oscar piastri #george russell #charles leclerc #lewis hamilton #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader

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cutieln4 · 8 months ago

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cutieln4 · 9 months ago

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ugh y’all are so cute and creative with your fics

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cutieln4 · 9 months ago

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HIDE YOUR NAME NOT YOUR TEAM - LN4

summary : In which a pretty red head catches Lando’s eye one night in mexico, a rude remark and laughable flirting stays on both of their minds. The last thing Lando expects is to see her again in the paddock, while he’s determined to figure her out, she’s determined to hide her name and why she constantly is spotted in orange.

listen up : panic attack, sexual comments, comedy!! lando norris x bosses!daughter.

word count : 5404

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I don’t usually go to these things. But Alexandra convinced me when she said I could borrow her dyson.

“I take it back.” I say as I get my drink, we’re sat at the bar, Charles already gone to find some drivers, “Let’s go back to the hotel! Girls night!” I beg her but she just shakes her head.

“You look too hot for that.” I sigh, I do look hot tonight. I’m in a black mini dress, sheer tights, and knee high boots that are the same shade of burgundy red as my hair.

Just as she says that, Rebecca, Carlos’ girlfriend, comes up to us, “Y/n! You never come out with us!” She hugs me and I smile. I never do but I do like hanging with my girls.

“I had to drag her here!” Alex sips her drink as Rebecca laughs. We’re in Mexico for the grand prix, something I also rarely find myself at.

“Don’t make that face! You deserve a day off.” I sigh, knowing they’re right.

“Alright.” I down the rest of my drink, coughing and turning to the bartender, “Three shots please! Surprise us!”

The girls squeal and as soon as I sit back down, I know it’s gonna be a good night.

I’m multiple drinks in, dancing with my friends, when Carlos and Charles sweep my friends away like it’s nothing.

I scoff, going to walk off the dance floor before a man stops me, “Wanna dance?” I almost laugh when I see who it is. I can tell he sees me thinking about it, “I promise I don’t bite.”

⋆༺

LANDO NORRIS

I noticed her when she was dancing with some guy who was out of his mind wasted. I saw her hair first, a dark cherry red with messy waves.

I don’t know if she’s here with friends but I do know that I want to know more.

She’s staring at me like i’ve just asked her to do a backflip, “Uh… no.” She shakes her head and walks straight past me.

What the fuck?

I haven’t had a girl reject me in a long time, but it’s not unheard of. Still, something about her is telling me to not give up.

“Wait! I’ll buy you a drink!” I hurry after her, she’s flipping her hair over her shoulder and eyeing me, “Please?”

“Please?” She laughs, “You can’t find any other girl besides me?” She hops up onto a bar stool and I lean against the counter, staying close.

“Maybe I don’t want to.” She narrows her eyes at me. “I’m Lando.”

“Yeah, I know.” This surprises me.

“Oh! Well then you know I'm not a creep, so you’ll let me buy you a drink?” She crosses her arms, she seems to be assessing me.

“Fine.” I get her a dirty martini and water for myself. “Thank you.”

“I’ll always be down to buy a pretty girl a drink.” I smile as she sips her drink, “I never caught your name-”

“Mhm…” She looks around the club, obviously not interested in what I have to say.

“Okay, Red.” She doesn’t even flinch at the nickname, “Why are you in Mexico?”

She hums, “Family.” she lets out a long breath.

I frown at her lack of interest, “That’s fun. I’m racing here this weekend.” She doesn’t respond, “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I promise I'm not like whatever shit magazine you read.”

She looks at me after that and I immediately know I fucked up. Except instead of throwing her drink on me, she just laughs, “God, you’re an asshole.” And with that, she walks away.

⋆༺

YOU

Lando Norris hitting on me was not something I expected from that night.

But it immediately became worse once I remembered why I was in Mexico.

“Sweetheart!” My dad hugs me tight. Zak Brown is a lot of things but a shit dad isn’t one of them. He’s in all orange, contrasting my white dress. I smile as he pulls back, “I’m so happy you’re here!”

I have gone to four grand prix’s in my life. It seems a bit odd for someone who’s father is there almost every weekend, but we had a deal. I was a sort of trouble child, more in my teens when I wanted more freedom. I took some years off of school but I realized what I was wasting and got right back into college.

My dad said I couldn’t come to a grand prix until I finished school. I was annoyed at first, who wouldn’t want to spend their weekends partying with rich people and flying on private jets? But I sort of fell in love with my studies in fashion and had no time anyway.

But I recently graduated and am back in my papaya fathers reach.

“How are you doing? Excited to be back?” I nod as I walk up the paddock with him.

“Very! I’ve missed everything, especially my friends.” He smiles and I’m happy I can make him do that in public.

“I’m so proud. Oh!” I see my nightmare in neon and freeze, “Come meet one of our drivers, he’s a bit like you, I think.” My dad looks back at my frozen position and frowns.

“I forgot I have to grab food with Lily! New friend duties, right! Remember how happy you are that i’m making friends!? Bye!” I turn around and run.

I end up meeting up with Lily because as soon as I heard myself say it, I suddenly really wanted to see her. Lily isn’t new to the paddock, but I’ve only met her a couple times. We follow each other on instagram and have DM’d multiple times.

After our taco and gossip session, practice started and I know I should be watching, but I want to explore more. So instead, I walk around the Paddock alone.

I seriously missed this environment. One of my favorite memories from when I was a kid was my dad walking me around the paddock. I love the hustle and bustle of the paparazzi, fans, and drivers.

I also love the quiet in the paddock while the cars are on track. I make it back inside, finally finding a bathroom and after fixing my hair and makeup, I wander more halls.

I don’t want to admit I'm lost, but I definitely am. I’m about to call Lily and Rebecca but realize I am a strong independent woman! That and I'm a tad embarrassed.

I turn yet another corner and see the worst person for this situation. I realize he hasn’t seen me yet but when I go to turn he eyes me, “Red?” He looks genuinely shocked and I'm even more shocked that he remembers me!

I laugh awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He’s in his race suit, sweaty, and way too good looking with it unzipped. He runs his hand through his curls, has he always been this attractive?

Sorry! Dickhead. I don’t like this man. He’s an asshole.

“What the fuck?” Is all he can say.

“Hey!” I smile, “Thanks for buying me that drink the other night…” When I left him at the bar, I did not think about the whole MY FATHER IS HIS BOSS thing.

“What are you doing here?” I hide my paddock pass behind my back, “Seriously. You’re not some stalker are you?”

I roll my eyes, “No but I am lost.” I can’t ask him to point me to the Mclaren garage because then he’ll ask why so I go for the next best thing, “I’m looking for the ferrari garage!” I need to text Alex right now.

“I’m still confused- you said you were in town for family.” Fuck my life.

“Yeah! Well… Alex is like family to me! And she invited me. Alex as in-“

“Charles’ girlfriend. Yeah I know.” He moves his water bottle from one hand to the other, stepping closer. “But, why would I help you if you think I'm an asshole?”

Okay. Good point.

“Because you think I'm pretty?” I smile and I can tell he’s biting back a laugh. “And because you were being pretty cocky!”

He nods, “Fair enough. Come with me.” I didn’t expect him to give in so easily.

“Hey, why were you in here anyways?” He shrugs and keeps walking for a bit before answering.

“Needed a breather.”

I nod, walking with him in silence, he opens the door for me and the sun hits up straight on. “So… how's the whole driving thing going?”

He glances at me, “It's alright. Quali tomorrow.”

“Good luck. Although I kinda hope you don’t get first.” He raises a brow. “I’m a big Piastri fan.”

He looks genuinely hurt, “I didn’t even think you watched.”

I frown, “Why wouldn’t I? I mean, I'm here.”

“Yeah but you… nevermind.”

I stop, turning to him, “You have to tell me now!”

He grins, looking away and continuing to walk, “You just didn’t have a reaction when I hit on you.” I scoff, “I know, I know! Dickish.”

I can’t help but laugh, “Honestly… fair enough. If I looked like you with the whole famous rich thing. I’d be pulling left and right.”

He eyes me, “So you think i’m attractive.” My face drops and I look ahead, “Hey it’s okay we already know I think you’re hot!” God if my dad ever heard this…

“Just shut up.” He does.

Until he doesn’t, “You really a big Oscar fan?”

I’m happy that I got under his skin with that one, “What if I said I liked Verstappen more?”

“I’d leave your lost ass right here.” Lando says it so serious that all I can do is laugh. He looks proud after I look at him again. “Seriously though.”

“Ferrari girl through and through.” He rolls those gorgeous green eyes of his, “McLaren might be second best though. Plus that Colapinto kid…”

He rolls his eyes, “You can’t like Franco more than me.”

“What, you jealous?” He points to turn and when we do, I see the garages in view.

“Gonna give me your name yet? Or am I sticking to Red?”

I pull his same move and avoid the question, “Thanks for showing me back.”

“Is it bad I like it when you’re mean to me?” I groan and walk away, “Bye, Red!”

“Later, Norris.”

⋆༺

“He doesn’t know who you are!?” Lily and Alexandra scream at the same time, we’re sitting in my hotel room when I called an emergency girls meeting. Except Rebecca is with Carlos to celebrate a little after his pole.

I cover my face with my hands, “But why does it matter!?”

“He’s obviously is hot for you.” Alex shrugs as Lily laughs, rolling onto her back.

“Babe, No wonder he’s so interested in you! I mean- besides the fact that you’re hilarious and drop dead gorgeous- he definitely is intrigued.”

I shake my head, “More like plotting to get me back for calling him an asshole.”

“Wait! You called him an asshole!?” Lily laughs even harder, “I love you!”

“Genuine question though… why don’t you go for it?” I stare at Alex as if she has two heads.

“Go for it!? Lando Norris?” She nods, “No way! Besides the fact that my dad is his boss, he’s way too cocky, and he doesn’t even know my name, I still wouldn’t go for him.”

“That’s kinda part of the appeal.” Alex shrugs, “What!? He knows nothing about you but thinks your hot! Seems like enough to me.”

We end up crying laughing, the conversation straying from Lando and to all the on track drama.

⋆༺

I’ve been avoiding the McLaren garage like the plague. I was there this morning but stayed on Oscar’s side. After meeting him, falling in love with him (platonically of course), and seeing that Lando was completely locked into Qualifying, I took my first breath of calmness.

The boys went out and I popped over to talk to Pato. Quali was over way quicker than I expected, After Oscar’s P17 a weird energy was in the garage and as soon as I saw Lando’s car, I was out of there.

What game am I even playing? Maybe it’s a little hot that he doesn’t know who I am… I don’t know why. Plenty of people have bugged me because of who my dad is, but Lando doesn’t need extra grand prix tickets or me to spot him money.

I find myself in a large room, it’s filled with chairs and a couch facing them. I grin immediately, how the hell is this just open?

I obviously am going to take my chance and pretend to be a talented man! The couch is not as comfortable as I expected and I almost fucking jump off of it when someone walks in.

He's breathing heavily and I recognize something’s wrong immediately. He’s pulling off the velcro of his race suit, unzipping it and pacing. “Lando.”

His head shoots up immediately, just staring at me, “Fuck Red, why are you everywhere?” His breath is labored and shaky.

I stand slowly as he slides down the wall, pulling his knees to his chest and leaning his head back. I’m confused because he seemed fine twenty minutes ago. P3 was not bad especially for where they are right now.

I start to say something but he just shakes his head, “I can’t.” He points to his throat and I realize he can’t breathe.

“I like your hair.” I say quickly, he looks so shocked when he looks up at me, “You look really good with it.” He keeps breathing heavily.

“Huh?”

“Although, you should ditch that fuck ass hat.” He tries to laugh but he’s still struggling. I slowly sit in front of him, “Seriously, who told you to wear that?”

“I- I have to.”

I roll my eyes but my hands are shaking. I’m not a stranger to a panic attack and seeing it happen to someone in front of me is a little scary, “Free will? I mean we all know you have it with the amount of times you whip out your middle finger.”

He laughs again, breathy, but his breathing seems to be getting slower.

“You definitely have free will.” he chokes out, “Saw you- today. Flirting with Lewis.” He got me there.

“Okay! Have you seen him? Who wouldn’t!?”

He shakes his head, “He’s way older.”

“Some people might find that hot.” He side eyes me, “Don’t worry I'm still into guys my own age.”

He’s smiling, nodding. We stay silent for a moment, his head resting against his knees as he catches his breath. He finally slides his legs out in front of him and I scoot next to him.

I tap my neck to ask for permission and he understands immediately, nodding. My hand slips to his neck, feeling his pulse.

“I used to have panic attacks a lot last year.” I explain as I feel his heart underneath my touch. He doesn’t say anything, just looking into my eyes. I swallow, “Your heart is going crazy.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, “Yeah I don’t think that’s because of the panic attack.”

I give him a look, “Seriously? Even in distress you’re a flirt.”

He licks his lips, “You’re good at calming people.”

“All I did was talk, not that hard.” My hand is still on his neck. “Are you okay?”

He swallows, looking away just as I drop my hand back to my side, “Mhm. Thank you.” His hand goes to mine as if it’s nothing. I’m shaking. He rests his head against the wall, closing his eyes, and squeezing my hand. “I think I owe you another drink, Red.”

⋆༺

It’s not until after more press and the conference is over, when Lando finds me again.

“Let me buy you dinner.” I raise a brow, “Come on, as a thank you.”

“You already said thank you.” I sip my water as he frowns. He’s out of his race suit and into jeans and a McLaren shirt.

“Just let me take you out.”

“Are you feeling okay?” I reach up and press the back of my hand to his forehead, “Oh no! Seems like you have a case of aiming high.” He mocks me as I cross my arms.

“Red, If you’re that high, I'll take my McLaren rocket ship and meet you.” I laugh at his words.

“A bit late on the whole rocket ship thing.” He sighs.

“We’ll have fun. Please. Why not?” He goes through five emotions in two seconds.

“You’re sinister, evil, and orange.” My eyes stray who who’s also orange and walking quickly up to us, “Shit.” I don’t mean to say it out loud.

Lando turns around quickly, then back to me, “Don’t tell me you’re scared of Zak. I’ll introduce you-”

“No! I’m not! I gotta go!”

“Wha- Red!” I walk away so fast that I don’t see the man rounding the corner.

“Y/n?” Oscar looks at me confused, “Alright?”

“Hi!” I quickly move past him but he follows.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lando is trying to introduce me to Zak Brown.” I say simply as we turn another corner and Oscar frowns.

“Zak Brown as in your dad Zak Brown?” I look at him, nodding. Then he laughs, “He doesn’t know who you are?”

“Nope. Sort of a long story but I'm in too deep now.” I cross my arms and he starts laughing harder.

“I’m completely here for this- Just one question though… how the fuck does he not know who you are? You’ve been in the garage.”

“He’s blind and I'm a mastermind?” I shrug and of course, Lando finds us.

“Red! No!” He groans when he sees Oscar, “Osc, Don’t convert her into a you fan i’m trying so hard to get her to like me!” Oscar laughs harder, covering his mouth and looking at me.

“I don’t need to be converted! I’m already an Oscar fan!” Lando frowns as I shake my head.

“Don’t worry mate, everyone’s an Oscar fan.” He pats Lando on the shoulder before leaving. “See ya…” I can tell he’s about to say my name but he stops himself.

Lando narrows his eyes at me, “He knows your name?” I bite my lip and walk away. “Hey wait! Any thoughts about tonight?”

I glance back at him, “Don’t you have a race to be preparing for?”

He smirks, catching up to me, “Wanna know my pre race ritual?” I push him away from me, “I’ll give you a hint.” He winks and my stomach does a weird flip.

“You’re never gonna stop, are you?” I place my hands on my hips, looking up at the man.

“Tell me to, and I will.” I stay quiet, his eyes meeting mine and the corner of his lip quirking up. Someone calls his name but his eyes stay on me, smiling. He leans down and taps his knuckles against his hand, “Bye, Red.”

⋆༺

Although Lando has been running around my head, I still have other duties besides being flirted with. I’m at dinner with my dad, it’s been a while since it’s been just the two of us. And I will say, I missed it.

He’s busy and obviously distracted but i’m grateful for any time I get with him. We’re in the Paddock but everybody is gone except for a few engineers and workers.

“Tell me about your weekend! I haven’t seen you much in the garage.” He takes a bite out of his salad, looking down at his texts.

“I’ve been around.” I shrug, drinking my lemonade, “It’s good to be back. But I have been sneaking off with my friends a bit…”

He smiles, “I’m glad. Even if you aren’t cheering us on.” I laugh, “You will be watching from the garage tomorrow, though.”

I nod, “Yes yes, I know.”

We get into a conversation about the issues with my apartment and how he thinks I should move back home. I get the feeling that he’s worried about tomorrow and suddenly wonder if he’s like this every weekend.

My dad gets a call which ends our dinner early, “I gotta grab my bag then I'll head to the hotel.” I kiss him on the cheek and make my way to the garage.

There’s a few people hanging back, some looking at screens and someone laying on the floor, looking at Lando’s back wing.

I grab my purse, rummaging around in it to make sure my phone is there. “You sure you’re not stalking me, Red?” That damn voice makes me jump.

He's sitting on the floor next to his own car, his arms and black shirt dirty. Was he… fixing his car?

I raise a brow, “What are you doing?” He takes the rag next to him and wipes off his hands, standing up.

“What are you doing?”

I cross my arms, “Stealing information for ferrari.” He smirks, shaking his head and walking past me to grab his water.

“Instead of having dinner with me? You need to sort your priorities out.”

I flip my hair over my shoulder, “Do you work on your own car often?”

“I can’t do much but I do like to see how it looks.” He shrugs, leaning against the wall and glancing at the people working, “You seriously not gonna tell me who you know at McLaren? You obviously have an in.”

He waves to the people who are packing up and walking out. We are now alone.

I hum, knowing there’s no chance I'm about to tell him who my ‘in’ is. He laughs a bit, “Alright, stay mysterious. Wanna sit in it?” I almost think I didn’t hear him correctly.

“What?” He nods, standing and walking over to his car, “Come on, don’t tell me you’ve already driven one or something.”

I smile, shaking my head and walking towards him, “No. I used to kart but I’m actually shit at it.” He laughs, beckoning me closer. “Won’t you get in trouble for this?”

He brings his finger to his lips, shushing me as I stand in front of him, “Okay put your foot here,” he points, “And hold onto this.” He points again and I do as I'm told.

I hate to admit it, but I am quite clumsy. When I slip a bit, his hands go to catch me instantly. Thank you driver reaction practice.

He lifts me down into the seat, his hands regretfully leaving me. I look up at him, “For once, you look tall.” His smile drops, leaning over me.

“You’re one to talk.” He scoffs and starts pointing at things. I try to listen but his hand is right in front of my face and I’m genuinely surprised how much I don’t know.

“You’re so far down.” I hum, holding my hands out as if I'm driving, “My back already hurts.” He smiles and kneels next to me.

“You look good in here. Seems like a complete hazard though, even if the car isn’t on.” I tilt my head up to look at him. A curl is falling perfectly in his face. “I didn’t wear the hat as much today, what’d you think?”

I smile at the fact that he listened to my bullshit, “How are you, by the way?”

He nods, avoiding my eyes and messing around with something on the car, “Fine.”

“So the whole panic attack thing was just for fun?” He eyes me, biting his lip.

“Thank you again, It was kinda embarrassing but you made me feel better.” I chew the inside of my cheek, smiling softly at his expression. He looks tired, but a big step up from earlier.

I’ve seen Lando a million times. He’s on posters, all over my feed, in my dads photo dumps, billboards, ads… But none of that can compare to the real thing.

He shoots up so fast that I’m about to laugh and ask what he’s doing, but he starts talking to someone. “Lando!” It’s my dad. Alarm bells ring in my ears as my hand goes over my mouth. Okay. He can’t see me, I know that at least. “I thought you’d already left!”

Lando laughs awkwardly, I think he’s standing in front of the car now. “Uh! Wanted to make sure everything’s good with the car. Guess I lost track of time.”

I hear my dad laugh, rummaging around, “Get some sleep, kid.” I think we’re in the clear until I hear sneakers squeaking, “You haven’t seen a girl come in here, have you?”

My heart rate skyrockets as Lando clears his throat, “Nope. But I've been pretty distracted with the car.”

“Alright well… I have someone to introduce you to tomorrow! Get some rest and drink water!” The door shuts and I hear Lando sigh heavily.

I stand up and messily get out of the car, “I thought for sure I was dead!” Lando says, running a hand through his hair and shivering, “Sorry about that.”

“No worries! I don’t want to get you in trouble though so I should go…” He nods, looking a bit disappointed.

“Want me to walk you out?” I can’t help but smile softly at the soft way he says it.

“I know my way, Thanks though.” I grab my bag, thanking god my dad didn’t see it before, “Rest up.” I mock my dad as Lando chuckles.

“With you on my mind, that’ll be difficult.” I pretend like my cheeks aren’t on fire and open the door.

“Dream about me, then.”

⋆༺

The party environment of the Mexican Grand Prix is all I needed today. I’m in a white dress with marigolds embroidered at the bottom, a flower in my hand from one of the people who are painted.

I laugh with Rebecca and Alex as we walk through the paddock, their boyfriends already getting ready for the drivers parade.

I haven’t told them about last night. I mean, what is there to tell? I swipe my lipgloss on, checking my makeup in the reflection of Rebecca’s glasses.

“Is Carlos nervous for today?” I ask her as she smiles at his name.

“I think so, but I’m really hopeful for a good result.” we continue walking, “Hopefully I don’t jinx it.”

“Hey, Y/n.” Alex nudges me, “Someone just arrived.” She winks as we all turn to look at the Paddock entrance behind us.

Lando Norris.

He’s wearing a Quadrant crewneck and a big smile. He signs something for a tiny fan and hurry’s past the photographers.

He almost walks past us, but he does a double take. He looks happy, I’m glad. “Rebecca, Alex.” He doesn’t stop walking as he politely greets them. His eyes meet mine and his expression changes, “Hey, Red.”

I smile softly before he turns and practically runs away, “Yup! He’s in love.”

I swat Rebecca’s arm as she laughs, “Goodbye!”

“No!” Alex laughs, “Come get coffee!”

I shake my head, “I told Pato I would grab breakfast with him, I’ll see you later!”

I smile at the two of them as they wave and we split up, me going to McLaren and them to Ferrari.

⋆༺

Breakfast is good, we watch the drivers go around and laugh at George who is shivering like a leaf. I say goodbye to him as soon as the drivers parade ends.

I need to see my dad before the craziness begins. “Dad!” I smile as he sits on the pit wall.

“Sweetie!” He smiles and waves me over, letting me sit with him.

“Ready for today?” I ask as he looks over data.

He nods, “Definitely!” He crosses his fingers and I smile, looking over the data with him. He knows I have no clue what we’re looking at so he explains it to me.

I lean in to look at the tiny words when my dad gets distracted, “Oh!” I hear him say but i’m trying to decipher this code still, “I have someone for you to meet!” I’ve met a million different people this week so I smile and stick out my hand like usual, “Lando! This is my daughter Y/n.”

I stare at him. His smile drops for a second, then a look of panic washes over him before he takes a breath and shakes my hand.

“Nice to meet you.” I almost whisper it. He’s looking at me and I feel like I'm about to get swallowed whole.

His face contorts again, he looks like he’s finally cracked me, “Pleasure” My dad looks away and Lando takes that second to narrow his eyes, a smirk still on his face.

I drop his hand as my dad looks at us again, “I think Y/n has been avoiding the garage! I would have introduced you days ago!”

Lando’s jaw ticks, “Not a McLaren girl?”

I can’t help but smile, “Ferrari through and through.”

My dad shakes his head, “Don’t mind her odd preferences…” he’s about to say something else but gets pulled away by someone in orange.

Lando just looks at me, my cheeks hot as he examines me. I expect him to be mad, but he just smiles, “Y/n, huh?” I nod shyly, “It’s pretty. It fits you.”

“Okay! Lan you gotta go!” My dad claps a hand on his shoulder, dragging him away.

“Good luck!” I say quickly as he shoots me a devious look. I take a breath I didn’t know I was holding in, and watch him leave.

⋆༺

The race has me on the edge of my seat for all 71 laps. I accidentally gasp way too loud at Lando being pushed off track and maybe start clapping when it’s announced that Max got two penalties.

The whole time I have a feeling that Lando will be on that podium, but definitely not in third.

My manifestation comes true when Charles goes off track and Lando zooms by.

Ten laps to go and I don’t think I've taken a deep breath in twenty. But the moment Lando passes the finish line, the garage claps and I sigh in relief.

I hug my dad but I watch the podium ceremony from the side, smiling as the boys get sprayed with champagne while laughing.

I see Rebecca with tears in her eyes and when I look back to the podium, I see Lando looking at me. He's grinning, holding his bottle of champagne and pouring it into his mouth before winking at me.

If he’s still acting like this after he found out my dad is his boss, then I am unexplainably screwed. And I couldn’t be happier about it.

After the podium, I walk back to the garage, but Lando catches me first, pulling me into a hidden area. He’s soaked in champagne and grinning like an idiot, “Have fun out there?” I ask, crossing my arms.

He nods, “Think i’m cool yet?”

“A bit… maybe when I watch you win.” His smile grows, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“Go out with me.” I laugh at his words, “For real this time! Y/n.” He says my name like a prayer and I never want it to stop.

“I guess I sort of owe you.”

He nods enthusiastically, “Y/n Brown. What a name… I knew you had an in!”

I shake my head, “I’m sorry. But it was fun messing with you.”

He sighs in defeat, “I feel much better that I know who you are. Although I almost passed out when the words ‘daughter’ left Zak’s mouth!” I laugh with him, champagne dripping down his curls still.

“You did really well today.”

He bites his lip, “Think of how much better I'll do knowing you’re screaming my name in the garage.” I swat his arm but he swerves and plants a kiss on my cheek.

My jaw drops as he pulls back, “I’ll pick you up tonight!” he starts walking away, backwards, “I’ll text you!”

“You don’t even have my number!” I yell after him but he just winks and blows me a kiss. Just as I turn back around and roll my eyes, I see my dad in front of me, arms crossed as my eyes go wide.

He sighs, looking like he already has a headache, “What the hell did I miss?”

2K notes · View notes

cutieln4 · 9 months ago

Text

𝗚𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗠𝗘𝗗𝗔𝗟 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬

pairing: lando norris x fem!gymnast!reader

summary: a new quadrant athlete and lando norris hit it off

warnings: fluff, established relationship, nothing else really, these warnings are mostly just notes on what is in these | faceclaim is sunisa lee, this is definitely one of my favourites that i’ve done 😌

yourusername and quadrant

liked by quadrant, landonorris, and 423,731 others

yourusername so excited to announce that i am joining quadrant athletes !!!!! had such a fun time filming so keep your eyes peeled

view all 374 comments

maxfewtrell so excited to see what’s in store!

user1 nah cause we all knows he’s going to eat them up

keeganpalmer i totally had that last one

↳ yourusername i don’t doubt that, you did really well 👏

landonorris so hyped for this

user2 love love love

riabish finally another girl to join me and lotte❤️

↳ yourusername us girls have to stick together 👯‍♀️

↳ lottevandrunen401 hell yeah we do 💪💪

user3 she’s going to humiliate them in any gymnastic challenges 😭😭

↳ user4 she’s naturally good at everything, i wouldn’t be surprised if she does that for every video

quadrant 👀👀

quadrant

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 47,093 others

quadrant GOLD MEDALIST GYMAST vs GOLD MEDALIST SKATEBOARDER vs LANDO NORRIS

can keegan palmer and lando norris beat y/n y/l/n at different gymnastics levels? full video out now!

view all 148 comments

user1 they knew they were cooked from the first level 💀💀

user2 their reactions were priceless

yourusername good try boys 💪 I’m just too good

↳ maxfewtrell someone needed to get lando’s ego down a couple notches

↳ landonorris that’s so not true

user3 keegan actually did pretty well

user4 with a little more training keegan could do a lot of hard moves

keeganpalmer i’m very proud of myself 😌

landonorris i’m going to stick with race car driving

user5 i would pay to see max’s reactions to lando falling from the bar 💀

f1gossip

liked by user1, user3, and 18,762 others

f1gossip lando norris seen partying with friends in a club in london this weekend 🇬🇧

view all 75 comments

user1 brother does not stop

user2 are my eyes playing tricks on me or is that him and y/n in the third photo???

↳ user3 no i see it too, keegan is there as well

user4 did you see them giggling and whispering to each other in the new video? something definitely happened that night

user5 y/n looks like she’s enjoying quadrant

user6 all of the boys brought their significant others except lando and y/n

↳ user7 maybe they brought each other 👀

yourusername

liked by user1, landonorris, and 307,264 others others

yourusername 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

view all 195 comments

user1 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

keeganpalmer slay

↳ yourusername slayyy

user2 that’s lando’s hair colour….

↳ user3 and also like half of the population 💀

user4 the one time lando likes but doesn’t comment??

maxfewtrell who could this be?

↳ yourusername i have no idea 🤔

user5 the club photos and now this? the evidence is STACKING against them

yourusername added to their story!

f1gossip

liked by user1, maxfewtrell, and 83,901 others

f1gossip lando norris talking about his new girlfriend in a post race interview at the hungarian grand prix! who could this mystery girl be 👀

view all 134 comments

user1 MY GOOD LUCK CHARM 😭😭

user2 whoever she is, she’s lucky

user3 max what are you doing here?? 🤨

user4 it’s totally y/n, all the signs point to her

user5 he totally let that slip by accident and just went with it 💀

user6 did anyone else see y/n at the mclaren garage?

landonorris

liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell, and 1,024,018 others

landonorris yeah, my baby’s a gold medallist. what about yours?

view all 307 comments

yourusername love you ❤️

yourusername did me dirty on the last picture though

↳ landonorris i love that one 😕

user1 he’s so proud of her 🥺

maxfewtrell there were so many times he almost let it slip

↳ landonorris it was not that many

↳ maxfewtrell mate, i started a counter

↳ landonorris don’t believe this, this is all slander

user2 we all knew it, you weren’t too good at hiding it

user3 we could tell you liked her from the first video

yourusername

liked by landonorris, keeganpalmer, and 381, 064 others

yourusername another prize i get to have 😚

view all 204 comments

landonorris ❤️

user1 she called him a prize 😭😭 she loves him so much

user2 his face in the first one 💀

↳ yourusername it was his reaction to when i asked what he made

keeganpalmer dude i was about to burst i couldn’t keep it a secret anymore

user3 i know they love to mess with everyone

↳ theofficalfng mate they do

maxfewtrell good, now he’ll stop complaining about being single 🙄🙄

user4 maybe she’ll help him get better at gymnastics

↳ user5 i can imagine it 💀 lando would be like “i’m tired” and y/n standing there with a hand on her hip like a mom going ‘really?’ 🤨

↳ yourusername can confirm 😐😐

↳ landonorris all you guys are getting sued for slander

1K notes · View notes

cutieln4 · 9 months ago

Text

give yourself a reason

lando norris x fem!reader

summary : you believe yourself to be unworthy of love. lando shows you otherwise.

warnings : a lot of angst with a whole lot of comfort, fluffy, friends to lovers, mentions of mental health issues and insecurities, swearing, based off 'call your mom' by noah kahan.

wc : 2.7k

req : no

rory speaks : hi this is my first proper fic on here! it deals with quite serious topics, so please remember to reach out if you are struggling. i've had a lot going on, so this is just a self-indulgent splurge that turned into a fic so... enjoy! feedback very much appreciated <3

masterlist

After carving out a couple weeks from your schedule, you found yourself walking, or at least trying to walk, down Monégasque streets, away from the noise of the nightlife. Your head was fuzzy and the movement of your legs was just a little concerning, as you trailed slightly behind the rest of the group.

Getting this drunk wasn’t in your plans for tonight, though you welcomed it with open arms, as it offered some sort of respite from whatever the fuck was going on in your life.

A ‘mess’ was probably too weak of a word to describe it. Too diluted. You had your dream job, your fashion designer apprenticeship allowing you to travel all around the world, great friends and yet it was not enough. The work load seemed to be overwhelming all of the time, you were homesick more often than not, and you felt so distant to the rest of your friends.

An ugly, sick feeling had nestled itself deep inside, and had steadily been growing since. You felt so lonely. So lost. A want to be loved and supported unconditionally taunted you constantly. You just wanted to be held. And with no effort to do anything except sleep, it was all getting at bit much.

A little further ahead, your friends had stopped at a convenience store, and all but one of them had entered. The pounding in your head somehow managed to get worse upon stopping and standing next to him. You swayed, and his hand came out to steady you by the small of your back.

“I told you to stop drinking, you know,” he stated, hand still on your back. A light breeze passed between you two.

“I don’t need you to parent me, Lando,” you scoffed, wrapping your arms around yourself, turning towards him and away from the pulsing lights from the street lamps. The unimpressed look he gave you was almost scathing, and you diverted your eyes back to the lights. It hurt less.

“Sit down before you fall over.” His hand, that was still on your back, moved slightly, grasping your waist so he could wrap his whole arm around your back, and you felt your legs almost give way as he began to lower you down. The two of you sat on the curb, knees up to your chins and touching each others’. Lando’s thumb began to gently trace circles on your waist as he spoke.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He was looking at you. Staring hard. You could feel the heat of it, and you mulled over his words.

“Talk about what?” you asked, turning to make eye contact with him, almost shrinking under the intensity of his gaze. If you played dumb, not knowing what he was referring to, hopefully he would drop it.

Lando knew you too well.

“Whatever it is that’s made you try and drink yourself to death,” he said, eyes squinting, as though he was picking you apart. And he was. He could definitely see right through you. You wanted to get up and run away because damn him for being your bestfriend, damn him for knowing you so well and damn him for making you fall for him.

It had probably been a minute of silence before you spoke, looking away from him again.

“I want to disappear again,” you whispered, throat beginning to close up and burn. Your cheeks flushed with the embarrassment of your confession, and the heat of Lando’s gaze returned. His hand squeezed your waist again and your eyes welled up. “I’m sorry.”

He moved, quickly, to crouch in front of you, hands enclosing your own that were on your knees. His eyes, slightly hazy from his own drinking, bore into yours. There was so much concern in them , and something else that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“What are you apologising for?” he asked, and a tear escaped, rolling down the flushed skin of your cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you replied, honestly. You didn’t know why you were apologising, it just felt right. “Everything’s just too much,” you continued, removing one of your hands from his hold and wiping away the tear. “I’m just so tired. All the time. And I feel so… lonely. But I have all of you guys, and I have a house, and a job and so I shouldn’t be compla-”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Both of Lando’s hands had come up to cup your face. They covered the expanses of your cheeks entirely, and he cradled you as though you were the most important thing in the world. “It’s okay. It’s okay to feel that way, you’re not being ungrateful,” he spoke gently, thumbs brushing the apples of your cheeks as he did so. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

And you swore to God above, then and there, that you would never love another man more than the one crouched in front of you. Your heart hurt, with how much he cared. His words and actions stomped out the ugly beast of emotions that had spilled out, and you leaned into his touch.

“Sometimes life can seem like it’s everything we wanted, but we don’t feel that way. And that’s okay. We just need to figure out why, so we can feel happy with life, and I’m gonna be here for you throughout all of it,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours.

Your head was still pounding, and you still felt a little sick, yet everything in this moment felt so right. Your hands moved from your knees to behind his neck, shoving your face into his shoulder. Lando’s arms circled around your waist to embrace you tightly.

“It’s just so hard. I’m always so close to giving up, Lan. I don’t know what to do,” you mumbled into his shoulder. At your words, he held you impossibly tighter, and all the barriers you had ever set up crumbled, sobs racking your body. Repetitions of, ‘I know’, and ‘I’m so sorry love,’ left his mouth as he continued to hold you. At some point Lando had brought the two of you to your feet, and you released him from the hug, wiping your eyes.

“We’re going to figure this out together, yeah?” he said, bringing his own thumbs underneath your eyes in order to clean your smudged mascara. You could only give a weak nod and a smile, before whispering a thank you.

The door to the convenience store opened, and out tumbled your still very drunk group of friends. Your conversation with Lando had managed to sober you up, and now you found yourself desperate to get back to the confines of your hotel room. However, the rest of the group seemed to have recovered their energy, talking about heading to a final bar to end the night.

“You two coming?” Max asked, swaying slightly on his feet as he did so. The question pulled you out of your head and caught you off guard. Desperately, you turned to look at Lando for an answer, who was already looking at you. He offered you a smile, reaching out to interlock your fingers as he replied.

“No, I think we’re done for the night, sorry mate.”

Max rolled his eyes and booed you two, before hugging the both of you.

“Make sure you get her home safe,” he warned, trying to look intimidating and point his finger in Lando’s face, yet all he managed to get was a giggle from you.

“I will,” Lando laughed, batting Max’s finger out of his face. “You behave.”

He grinned in response, before waving goodbye and jogging to catch up with the rest of the group. You laughed at the sight of his attempted running, leaning into Lando’s side and squeezing your interlocked hands.

“You ready to get going?” he asked, peering down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Yes? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You yelped as his hand slipped from yours to your waist, and the other came behind your knees. He lifted you into his arms, and you quickly wrapped your arms behind his neck in order to stabilise yourself.

“What is wrong with you? Put me down!”

He threw his head back and laughed, continuing on the trek back, shooting you a cheesy grin.

“No can do, I’ve gotta make sure you stay safe.”

“Don’t drop me,” you warned, meaning every word. At your words, he looked up at you.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, smirk gracing his face as he tightened his hold, unaware of the gymnastics routine your stomach was currently performing.

You were so pathetic. You had just cried your heart out to this man and now you were swooning over two words. Jesus Christ you needed to pull it together. He was your best friend.

Once off the side streets, your surroundings became busier, and your anxiety spiked ever so slightly. Absentmindedly, you played with the curls of his hair at the nape of his neck, grounding yourself. He groaned and you stopped your movements.

“Don’t stop,” he said, caressing your skin with his thumbs as you rounded another corner. If it were possible, your stomach would’ve probably won an Olympic gold medal for the somersault it just did. You resumed your actions, and a soft smile graced his features once more. You allowed your eyes to roam over the rest of his face, admiring him and his beauty. From his face, your gaze trailed down his neck, across the expanse of his chest and shoulders, to his tan arms and hands that held you. Every part of him was so beautiful, and you loved him. Inside an out.

Being so enthralled by the beauty of your best friend, you didn’t notice that the building you were approaching was definitely not your hotel. Lando came to a halt, once inside, and tapped your leg.

“I’m gonna have to put you down love,” he stated, before lowering you. His hand stayed on your waist. He fished in his pockets for a card for the elevator;

“This isn’t my hotel, Lan,” you said, staring at him accusingly.

“I know. Think you should stay with me,” he replied, eyes searching across your face for a reaction as he scanned the card and pressed the button for the elevator.

And maybe this was it. Maybe this was why everything felt so right. The unconditional love that you had been searching for was in front of you all along. It just so happened to come in the form of your best friend who you were in love with.

“Are you sure?” you asked hesitantly, not wishing to intrude or overstep by any means. Lando definitely sensed your insecurity, because when the doors opened, he stepped inside, grabbing your wrist, and pulling you in too. You ended up falling into him, pushing him against the railing. He looked down at you, smirking as he spoke.

“If you wanted to be all over me, all you had to do was ask.”

“Freak,” you replied, giggling and pushing his face away from yours with one hand. The other lay splayed on the bottom of his torso, dangerously close to the top of his jeans. Lando’s hands remained clasped around the small of your back, holding you close.

You let both of your hands wander ever so slightly under his shirt, intent on stealing his body heat. At the contact, he pulled you in closer, most definitely over the line of ‘friendship’ that you two had been walking like a tightrope. Comfortable silence settled, and your heartbeat fell into the rhythm of Lando's breathing.

The elevator came to a stop at his floor, signalling for him to gently grab one of your hands, and lead you to his apartment. Regardless of the fact you knew which apartment was his, he still pulled you along, aching to be close to you. He even wrestled with his keys and lock with one hand just to keep your fingers interlocked.

The air around seemed to still once the front door shut after you had walked in.

Lando squeezed your hand and turned to you.

“We don't have to speak about anything else tonight. At all. I just want to know that you're safe.”

As his eyes bore into yours, the guilt of your confession washed over you. This wasn't the first time things had gotten… hard… and you hadn't been able to cope. Lando had been there countless times, on the phone, running to your hotel room, driving to your house. Just to check you were still here. And he was always there. You felt like you didn't deserve him.

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you.”

And oh fuck you were crying again.

You let out a half-hearted giggle, desperately trying to wipe your eyes.

“It's okay. I'm just… I'm sorry,” you started, pulling yourself together enough to look at him. His lips parted, as though he was going to speak, but your hand on his chest stopped him before you continued.

“You've done so much for me, Lan. So many things and I’m stuck in this cycle of being unstable. I'm sorry for being such a burden and making you worry for me all the time.” The tears were returning to your eyes. “I just wish I could give you more. And I can't. I'm sorry.”

Lando's hand came to envelope yours and his other cradled your face. You swore if he did that again you would start sobbing. He was so gentle.

“I don't need more. I just need you.”

His eyes were trained directly on yours, staring intently. Now it was your turn to try and speak, but the thumb of his cradling hand moved over your lips to shush you, and his other hand squeezed yours.

“You think a lot of things about yourself. Mainly you think that you don't deserve anything. That you don't deserve things like love and happiness and peace. And I know you. So you convince yourself there is no point. No reason to keep going.” Lando's hand, previously enclosing yours, came up to mirror the one cradling your face. He focused your eyes on his, wanting you to hear and listen to his every word.

“You have so many reasons to be here. But I really want to add one more to your list.”

Looking back, your brain had probably short circuited at this moment in time. He'd managed to move impossibly closer towards you, eyes still searching yours for any discomfort.

“Let me love you.”

Oh yeah, you were sobbing now. The tears escaped as soon as he finished speaking and you instinctively hid your face in his chest, embarrassed. He held you tight, rocking you both back and forth.

“You don't mean that,” you mumbled, after a while. Even though your face was still pressed into his shirt, he heard you as clear as day. Lando pulled back to look at you.

“I've never meant anything more. I love you,” he said.

Perhaps it was the scramble of your brain, or the built up tension between the two of you, or even the alcohol in your system, but every single part of your body screamed for him, and so you brought yourself up on your toes, and wove your arm round the back of his neck. The two of you were impossibly close, and Lando's eyes searched for any sign of discomfort before pressing his lips to yours.

It was loving and slow and caring. He held you in a tight embrace as you kissed, wishing to keep you close, as though any slight relaxation of his arms could allow you to slip away into oblivion. You let him lead, falling into step with him, and giving in to his want to love and care for you. Through the kiss, you could feel every unspoken word and every unexplained feeling pass between the two of you until you were left with clarity.

Lando held you with love and kissed you with love and wanted to help you because he loved you.

And suddenly, as you both pulled away, cheeks flushed and smiles sheepish, you found that you did have a very important reason to live every day.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris

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