#lando fluff

[clovermoters]

anytime, anywhere - lando norris x childhood sweetheart!reader

summary - lando fell in love when he was ten years old, heres small moments of that love over the years.

warnings - kisses, panic attacks, small amount of violence & lando being a SAP

wc : 8k

some music - work song, hozier | my love mine all mine, mitski | love of my life, harry styles | pov, ariana grande | super rich kids, frank ocean.

authors note - hi! as always, enjoy! reblogs & likes are always hugely appreciated!! lots of love, clove!

ten - the meeting

The fluorescent lights of the afterschool program shined bright as you were sitting at the snack table, quietly picking away at the food your mom packed for you this morning. It was 5:30, most kids had been picked up by their parents or siblings. Leaving you and four other kids left, one was a curly haired boy who was sitting not far across from you. Working away at his homework. 

You remembered he was in your class. Lando, you remember, was his name. He was quiet, and he sat far across the room from you, so you haven't spoken to him much since meeting him in september. 

One of the coordinators for the program, Allie walks into the room, having left minutes prior to take a phone call, she looks at you with a sympathetic look on her face before sitting down next to you carefully.

You already know what she's going to say 

“Hi sweetie, that was your mum” she began, taking a deep breath trying to keep her voice low. “Your parents are going to be a bit late today, your mum said dad will get here as quick as possible” she continued. 

This wasn't the first time your parents have called, they were late most days, you tried to understand that they have unpredictable jobs, with both your mum and dad being doctors at one of the top hospitals in the country. 

You huffed, nodding before pulling out a colouring book that was given to you by your teacher as homework, the same homework the brunette across the room was doing. 

Down the table, the other three boys seemed to have heard your conversation with allie. 

“Ooooohhh y/n’s parents abandoned her!” one of them taunts, the boys burst into giggles before Allie sends them a stern face. they don't let up. 

“Isn't this like the third time this week? They must forget about you alot” they poke while their laughter grows louder 

You see out of the corner of your eye, Lando looks up from his book, his eyes looking to you while your head stays down, trying to focus on your coloring.  

Tears prick your eyes as Allie sends them to the hallway, probably to tell them off, some more. The sound of your sniffles fill the room and Lando watches you wipe your tears with your sleeve before he stands up and makes his way across the room and places himself right next to you. 

“I like your colouring” he says shyly, like he isn't sure what to say. You turn to him, his green eyes looking into yours as he offers you a warm, genuine smile. You find yourself smiling softly back at him, like it was contagious. 

“Thanks, yours is okay” you giggle mischievously, looking down to see his work. His colours were slightly different than yours, but you both had the same idea with shades and detail, his jaw dropped in faux offense. 

“Hey! They look the same!” he says, you both break out into a fit of giggles, playfully chatting while you continue with your artwork. 

When Allie returns, she finds you two in a very in depth conversation about the movie you watched in class today. Crayons scattered around the abandoned colouring books, she smiled softly at the two ten year olds as she watched a special bond form between them. 

You chatted about everything, Lando told you about his newly found hobby in karting. How he wanted to try competing and was mostly excited to miss school for races. You told him small details about you, his attention never wavering as you spoke. 

You both chatted until the rest of the kids had left, leaving just you two and Allie, who was sitting quietly in the corner playing some game on her phone. 

“You should come to one of my races” he declares, “i'll let you drive my kart” you cringe slightly, frowning at the boy. the thought of operating the machinery scares you slightly. “When you win a race I'll go karting with you.” You say shaking your head at him, 

The door opened and in walked a lady whose eyes found lando almost instantly, lando had his back to the door since he was fully immersed in his conversation with you. 

“I think your mums here” you say as Lando whips his head around to see his mum. He smiled, getting up from his seat and hugging her tight. You felt your shoulders drop as you realized lando would now go home, leaving you alone. 

“Hi sweetheart, ready to go home?” she asks her son, who hesitates before he answers. Lando made eye contact with you, the girl he’d found a new friend in and felt quite sad to leave her here, when he got to go home. 

Looking at his mum, he shakes his head “no i wanna stay with y/n until her dad comes.” 

His mum looked at you, shrinking into your chair with all eyes on you. She had a sparkle in her eye as she watched him make his way back to you. She could tell her son had grown fond of you by seeing how he continued your conversation as if his mum wasn't there.

“so, if I win a race, you will come karting with me. deal?” he holds his small hand out, you smile, showing him a toothy smile that made his ten eight year old brain stop in time. Wanting to freeze frame it and paste it onto his eyelids. 

You shake his hand 

“deal.” 

Fifteen  - the unofficial first date

You were anxiously scuffing your feet into the asphalt of your local karting track. Lando had won his first karting race long ago, he was actually set to win his first series this year. But you two had never gotten around to getting you into a kart and on track with him. 

Since that day five years ago, you two had been inseparable. He took you to races on the weekend, and you had helped him catch up in school when he needed help. 

You even started going home with him after school and your parents began to just pick you up at Landos. 

Lando knew he liked you, he had known since he met you. Since your hand brushed against his when you both reached for the same crayon. Your smile was contagious and he swore you grew flowers wherever you walked. 

What started as a small elementary crush– over the years had bloomed into something bigger, something Lando couldn't explain just yet. 

Lando was so excited to show you karting, you could see it on his face. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet while he pulled you through the garage with his hand held in yours. You tried to ignore the butterflies that have made home in your stomach years ago when Lando started getting touchy like this with you. It started with his hand lightly brushing your shoulder in conversations, hugs that lasted longer than they should’ve while his head was tucked snugly in the crook of your neck. 

he leads you to a small single seater that you assumed was yours for the afternoon, “this is what you’ll be driving, i'll be in my kart with you the whole time” he explains, showing you how to control it and the proper steering technique, while throwing in a couple tips. His hand is still laced with yours as he tells you about his own kart. 

You loved seeing him in his element. Watching him race was your favourite thing. You admired his face as he spoke, the freckles you've grown to love topped with his curls that he was still learning to care for properly (after you had begged him too). 

“You with me?” he nudges your arm, shaking you out of your daydream. You nod 

“yeah, just zoned out a bit.” you reply, 

When you walked out in fireproofs and a karting suit, Lando felt like time froze, the world around him spinning to a halt as his gaze found you. He thought you looked beautiful everyday, but seeing you in a race uniform made his mind go fuzzy. 

His breath caught in his throat as he watched you walk over to him, holding a helmet and gloves. His green eyes sparkling at you, like you were the only girl in the world.  

He helped you with your helmet, his fingers brushing under your chin as he clipped the chinstrap, sending shockwaves down your spine. When you were secured he gave you a light tap on the side of your head before you both got in your karts, starting your engines. 

-

You were slowly getting the hang of the machinery, the kart vibrating underneath you as you took each corner with more confidence as you went, Lando staying steadily out in front of you. Turning his neck around to check in on you when you two would rush down the straights. You understood why he enjoyed this so much, the thrill of taking a corner slightly too fast, pushing the kart to its limit. 

You almost enjoyed it too much. 

The barrier came quickly, you hit a dead spot on the track, your kart skidding straight into the make-shift padded wall. When Lando watched the yellow flag fly out, he immediately felt his stomach drop, turning around to see you wobbling slightly in your kart. 

Stopping his kart safely off the track, his feet hit the ground as he sprinted to you, dropping in front of you, flicking his and your visor up, his eyes scanning yours frantically as he watched tears brim your eyes. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, his concern evident in his voice as he checks you over. “Where does it hurt?” you groan as he moves your arm slightly, cringing as your muscles contract from the sudden shock. 

“Im okay, just annoyed, im sorry” you huff, tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you knew how much lando wanted to take you karting and show you his world. And now you've ruined it by crashing. 

“No, no none of that.” he soothes, helping you out of the kart and back to the garage. Sitting you down and helping you take your helmet off. You looked adorable when he saw your messy hair from the balaclava. Lando had never wanted to kiss anyone yet, but at this moment he was coming very close to kissing you. 

It was like an itch that surged his whole body, the desire he felt to do all the things a couple does. He wanted to try them, with you. The hand holding while walking to classes, the nights spent wrapping in eachothers arms, he wanted all of you. 

 he wanted to learn what being in love was like, and he only saw himself learning with you. 

“Are you sure you're okay?” he asks cautiously, concerned that your adrenaline hasn't allowed you to fully feel any pain you might be in. 

“Yeah, i think i'll just be sore” you sigh, taking a sip from the water bottle he retrieved from the cooler for you, sitting himself on the floor in front of you. He's looking up to you like he's mesmerizing every inch of your face, studying every mole and freckle. 

Lando chuckles, “oh yea, you're gonna hurt like hell tomorrow” he jokes, you kick him lightly as you break into a fit of giggles, your laughs filling the garage with a sense of joy. 

The mechanics nearby smile at the two of you, infatuated with the way Lando acted in your presence. On a normal race weekend, he was focused, almost unable to see past the task at hand. With you, he was light, laughing, almost as if you showed him what happiness was. 

Your laughs die down and you catch yourself staring at the way his nose crinkled as he smiled. How his curls sit perfectly even after being smushed in his helmet. Your cheeks go flush while you fidget with the hem of your fireproof. 

Lando gaze locked onto you, he watches as your face focuses on your fingers, smiling softly before he stands up, offering his hand out to you. 

“c’mon, lets make my dad get us ice cream” 

You break out into a smile, linking your fingers with his before standing up, you two making your way to find Landos dad. 

Even though karting didn't go how he had planned, Lando felt today was a successful day nonetheless. Because he got to spend his day with you, showing you his other world he loved, the world he was building and working towards, imagining what the future would be when he climbs his way to the top, and he knew he wanted you to be right there with him when he did.

“Thank you for coming to my rescue” you say playfully as you walk with him towards the car, he just smiles, his curls bouncing as he strolls beside you.

“Anytime, anywhere.” 

Seventeen - bruise knuckles with a side of love  

The lights were dimmed as you walked into the house of your friend's house, music was pumping through the speakers providing background noise to the conversations you could hear flowing throughout the room. 

Your eyes scanned the room, looking for the familiar head of chocolate curls who you refused to admit was the whole reason you had come. Lando had been away karting for the past week and you haven't seen him, when you spot him, he has his back turned to you fully engrossed in a conversation with Max Fewtrell. 

Max's eyes catch your from over landos shoulder, a small smirk creeping into his face as he announces your entrance.

“ayeee!! There she is!” he shouts, landos head whips around, slightly confused to who Max is referring to, when he spots you, his eyes light up. You two lock eyes and it's like the world falls away for a moment as you take each other in. He noticed you had straightened your hair differently, training a soft curl at the end of your hair, framing your face perfectly. 

He's on his feet in seconds, making his way across the room to close what felt like a ravine between you. Mumbling a soft hey while engulfing you in a hug, it felt like coming home after a horrible day. His arms squeezing you softly as he tucks his head into your shoulder. You hug him back, closing your eyes as you both linger in the hug for a moment. 

You don't realize that it's been long until Max is next to you, he clears his throat loudly, startling you guys apart. He smiles, greeting you with a brief hug that has Lando sending him a slight glare. You failed to notice the brunette pinching his friend's side afterwards, max letting out a small whine. 

You told Lando how much he missed school, he shrugged it off with a laugh, you both knew he had given up on completing school. Joking that you were getting the degree for both of them. The three of you had always been close, going through schooling together since you were young. Though Max knew there was a bond between you and Lando that he would never be able to fully understand. 

You two understood each other without even having to speak, if Lando was upset with a race, Max often would text you as they drove home, you’d be waiting for them on the porch with snacks and a movie. Lando falling into your embrace before you settled on your own end of the couch, one of his favorite films playing on the tv. 

If Max looked over to you two, he’d see Lando absentmindedly playing with your fingers, he’d see you slowly running your hand through his curls, something you knew would calm him down 

You always knew lando needed comfort after a bad result, but you failed to understand that all he ever really needed was you. 

 “I'm gonna go grab a drink, do you want anything?” you ask softly, pointing to the small mini bar that was set up in the corner, one of the guests dramatically pouring non-alcoholic drinks as if you were in a club. 

“Monster pleasee” he drawls, smiling widely as if mimicking a little kid asking for candy. You roll your eyes with a smile before turning to Max, who shows you his already half drunk redbull. 

You turn away, sauntering your way to grab the beverages, lando and max watch you as you make your way. Once you're out of earshot, Max drops his smile before turning to smack lando in the arm. The boy yelps in pain, grabbing his arm with an unamused look on his face

“Oww!” Lando groans as Maxs face stays serious. 

“Why haven't you told her” he asked, leaving no room for bullshit. Lando and you had been dancing around the idea of a relationship for years, and he was tired of it. He was tired of seeing his two best friends hopelessly in love with each other and choosing to ignore it. 

“It's just not the right time,” Lando argues, his voice small. He tried so many times to tell you, to blurt his feelings out like a case of word vomit, to just scream i love you in your face. But every time, the words died in his throat at the possibility of you not returning his feelings. 

“Bullshit.” max counters “you two have been all heart eyes since we were what? twelve? I don't care whatever story you’ve run in your head, she loves you Lando and you both need to open your eyes and see it” he commands, sending a blow straight to Landos heart as he exhales with a sigh, his gaze fixed on you chatting with the boy handing out drinks. 

“What if it doesn't work out? I'm never here anymore max, how is that fair to her?” Lando says, a sense of longing evident in his eyes while he looks at you.

 Max’s offense crumbles slightly, but he didn't let up “she loves you enough to fight for it. She just needs to know you're willing to fight for it too.” he offers, you make your return, holding two cans of monster, the two boys staring slightly.  Like they had just been caught doing something they shouldn't. You frown slightly, your hand rising to cover your face.

“Do I have something on my face?” you ask worried, your hand rubbing along your features as you search frantically. Lando chuckles, lightly grabbing your wrists to halt your movements 

“No no,-” he breathes through a laugh, his touch sending sparks up your forearms  “you look beautiful” he said lowly, like it was only for you to hear. 

 You exhale deeply with a small laugh, sending him a soft, genuine smile that had Lando seeing double. 

This boy was done for. 

– 

The atmosphere had shifted since you arrived, the party was now in full swing as bodies filled the house, the base of the song vibrating underneath the floor. You and Lando were standing in a corner, your conversation light as you both nursed your drinks. 

Lando was explaining the new video game he and max had started playing when he was– quite rudely– interrupted by a boy approaching you, it was the same boy from the drink bar, whose name you learned was james 

“hi y/n, i just wanted to say that i enjoyed our conversation earlier. It's always a pleasure chatting with you” he smiles, one of those smiles that has a cheshire cat behind it, one that makes you slightly stiff next to lando. James didn't acknowledge landos presence, acting as if you were standing next to a plant pot. 

“Oh, thank you james.” you say, noticing lando’s eyes have turned to the black and neon can in his hand, fiddling with the pull tab. He's trying not to listen, but the way you shifted towards him slightly as James kept talking to you made him wary. 

“–hey you wanna get outta here?” James offers. 

Something in lando snaps when he sees the cocky smirk on his face.

“Woah,woah,woah, let's slow your roll here, mate.” he steps slightly in front of you, puffing his chest. 

“Last time I checked I wasn't talking to you” James barks back. his voice became louder as you hid behind lando. 

 “she clearly doesn’t want to be talking with you” he argues, you could see Landos fists balling at his sides. the monster abandoned on the windowsill behind you. Landos neck grows red as the anger bubbles underneath his skin. 

“Yk’what, why don't you let me and the lady have a conversation, yeah?” he says trying to push past Lando, his tone dripping with smugness. 

Oh that had Lando seeing red.

His fist connects with James' jaw, then his nose. Sending him to the floor, you gasp as James groans, before getting up and raising his fist. He doesn't have the time to think before Lando sends another blow to his chest, knocking him down for good. 

Two guests go to James, picking him up to place him on the couch as Max rushes over to you and Lando, his eyes falling to Landos hand.

“Shit mate–” he exhales, scanning the room for a way out “–c’mon let's go get some ice and fix that, you have to drive this weekend.” 

He leads you upstairs to a somewhat secluded bathroom, shutting the door as Lando sits on the sink, the pain from his hand evident in his movements. 

You haven't spoken since the fight, slightly shaken up from watching your best friend almost did beat the living daylights out of someone. You didn't want to think about what could've happened if James was able to land his own punches. 

You press toilet paper to his bleeding knuckles, and Lando hisses from the pain of you pressing on the inflamed flesh. Dropping his head onto your shoulder as max ruffles through the cabinet.

“score!” he exclaims, holding up a bright red first aid kit. He pulls out the alcohol wipes and hands them off to you. 

“m’sorry, this is gonna hurt” you say quietly before you clean the wounds, lando squeezes his eyes shut at the sting, his uninjured hand finds your waist, using it as a lifeline. 

Once the wounds are clean you begin to wrap his hand, your touch light as max hands you gauze, but nothing to secure it with. 

“Max, I need tape or something–” you mumble, focused on the task at hand. Lando watches as your tongue pokes out of your mouth while your eyes –which he's just noticing are slightly glossed over– are focused on carefully covering the wounds. 

Once Max makes his way to find you tape, you and Lando are left in silence, spare from the muffled sound of music still coming from downstairs. You were mumbling soft swears as the gauze would slip in your hold. 

“um- i'm really sorry–” lando breaks the silence, you look to him but he won't meet your eyes, “–i didn't like where he was going with that, but if you–uh..wanted him though, i understand” he says low, his eyes fixed on his lap while you look at him slightly shell shocked.

You scoff, almost like a laugh “you’re an idiot” he looks up, green eyes pouring into yours, hyper aware of the hold you had on his hand and his on your hip.

“Wh-what?” he breathes, confused. You send him a small are you stupid? look before saying what you’ve been trying to build the courage to say for years.

“I don't want him, god did you see his greasy hair?-” you roll your eyes, lando chuckles softly before you continue “i want you, you muppet”

Lando froze, he stared at you with nothing but admiration, you stood in front of him with a smile on your face, he swore he could’ve died right there. He exhaled deeply as a smile grew wide on his face, reaching both ears as he pulled you closer.  

“Thank god because i'm not sure what i would've done if you didn't” he whispers, his eyes flicking to your lips, tilting his head down slightly. You leaned in slightly, his breath fanning across your face before he locked his lips onto yours. 

The kiss was slow, but hard, like the crescendo of a musical piece. Years of longing being poured into it, your lips slotting together perfectly. Moving in sync as your free hand cups his jaw. He pulls you closer by his hold on your waist, humming slightly when you bite his bottom lip.

 The world seemed to have faded away as he deepened the kiss. His tongue swiping across your bottom lip, asking for access you happily granted. You kissed him until you were breathless, smiling against each other's lips, you swore you could see sparkles in landos eyes.

“ten year old me is so happy right now” he mumbled against your lips, smiling so wide as you giggled. You kissed him again, softer this time, drinking in the kiss that you had dreamt about for years.

You kissed him multiple times in that bathroom, the pain in his hand forgotten as his focus was solely on you. 

That was, until the doorknob jingled before Max opened the door, holding tape and a bag of ice. You step back quickly as Max halts his movement, it didn't take an idiot to put two and two together. Your puffy lips, landos slightly messy hair, and his poorly wrapped hand that had been perfectly wrapped when he left moments ago.  

All he did was smile, before handing lando the ice to hold to his hand. He hands you the tape before moving back to the door, lingering in it before he leaves.

“I am so, so, fucking happy for you both.” is all he says before shutting the door, leaving you alone once again. 

You turned to each other slowly, staring for a moment before you broke out into giggles. Once you both quiet down, you rewrap his hand, maybe stealing a kiss or two (or three) while you work, making up for all the time you could’ve been kissing him over the years. 

Lando watched you lovingly, thinking to the future. Yes he was scared, he was scared of what this meant with you in school and him racing. But he could see that you wanted this, you wanted him. if he had to die fighting to make you two work, he was gonna sure as hell try. 

Nineteen - through the storm

The crisp autumn air turned your nose red as you walked through the streets of London towards Max and his girlfriend, Pietras’ flat. It was Saturday afternoon and Lando was in Italy, it was Lando’s first year in F1, you two had been dating for two years now, and had your own flat in London you called home. 

Every race weekend, it became a tradition for you to watch qualifying and the race with Max and Pietra. Ordering pizza while you shout at the tv against anyone who dares to overtake your boyfriend. 

Opening the door you waltz in, announcing your arrival before shrugging your shoes off, placing your coat and bag in the mudroom. Your sock clad feet pad across the floor into the living room where Max had set up the broadcast. 

“How's he doing?” you ask, grabbing a blanket and snuggling into the couch. “He's doin’ fine but I'm not sure we're getting out of Q2” he answers, a sigh escaping his lips as you frown. Lando had told you the struggles he's been having recently with the car, not being able to find that balance he needs. 

The media knew it too, it felt like every time you checked your phone, someone had something horrible to say about the man you loved. You knew it was getting to him despite the brave face he put on. 

Your boyfriend was the type of person who wanted everyone to love him, the amount of scrutiny was eating at him while all he did was try his best in the car he was given.

 It wasn't his fault the car he was given was a tractor.

You watched anxiously as the timer ticked down, a minute left in Q2. Lando was setting his final lap, nibbling on your fingernails as he rounded the final sector, crossing the line to land in P14. his teammate Carlos sainz, landing in P7. 

You deflate, knowing lando wouldn’t be happy with himself, you knew him too well. After years of watching him in F3 and F2, you know what was running through his head and it killed you that you couldn’t be there with him. 

When he was home earlier in the month he told you one night how the one thing that scared him was people thinking he didn’t deserve his seat, this result certainly didn't help him with his self doubt. 

“He's going to be so upset” you mumble, turning your ringer on while you wait for his call. Another small tradition you had was if you weren't in attendance, the minute he had a moment alone, he was on the phone with you.

Max nods silently, Pietra sighing as she makes her way to the kitchen to order pizza for you all, silence stretching throughout the apartment as you watch the final moments of qualifying. 

As the commentators congratulated the pole sitter, raving on about the final laps that had been revolutionary all you could think about was Lando and how he was beating himself up over this. 

You could see the tweets now, the hate, the scrutiny that was going to flood your socials the second you looked, just as you went to pick up your phone, it vibrated from lando calling you, the goofy smile of his contact photo smiling back at you as you answered the call.

“heyy baby!” you say, walking into the guest room for some privacy, sitting down on the foot of the bed. The line was quiet for a moment before Lando responded with a soft “hey” his voice wobbled as he spoke.

“You drove really well lando.. don't beat yourself up over one bad quali” you say softly, keeping your tone light. Soft sniffles came from Landos end of the line, your heart squeezes as you hear him cry softly. Lando wasn’t a crier, so when he did, you knew he was close to his breaking point.

“I can't do this anymore,” he sniffles. “I don't even want to know what they're saying right now.” he cries. You listen to his broken sobs as tears escape your own eyes. You hated being so far away from him while he was hurting like this, he was alone and vulnerable and that made you want to scream. Wishing you could crawl through the phone and get to him. 

You debated telling his trainer, getting someone else in the room with him to make sure he was safe, but you knew he needed to let it out first. You’d tell Jon later, right now you needed to be there for lando. 

Landos breathing starts to become ragged as his sentences come out in short breaths, you hear the panic attack coming before it fully hits him, his voice was shaky as it grew quieter. His words dying in his throat before he could say them, you could hear his breathing becoming more frantic. 

“Lan, baby i need you to breathe for me” He was sending himself deeper into a panic and it only worried you more. You felt useless just listening while he struggled to find a breath.

“I ca- i cant” he chokes out, his sobs echoing through the phone as you begin to frantically text Jon. Your fingers shaking as you message the man, tears flowing down your face.

You: 911!

You: get to landdo now he's habvin a panic attack on the phone wit me 

You: please jon im panicjking myself listning to him

Jon: On it.

You keep assuring him through the phone, trying to say something– anything that will calm him down. Telling him to unzip his race suit, asking him what he can smell, see, hear, or taste. None of it worked, the boy was breaking down in your ears and you felt helpless while waiting for Jon to find him. 

You hear the door open on the other end, the phone falls to the floor as the murmurs of Jons voice filter down the phone. You don't hear much for a few moments, taking the time to compose yourself, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your landos hoodie. 

“hey y/n, he's all good now, i'll have you call him back in a bit. Are you okay?” Jons voice crackles through the phone after a while, you exhale a sigh of relief, clutching a hand to your chest. 

“Yeah… sounds good, thank you jon.” you say softly, hanging up the call.

You splash some water on your face before returning to max and pietra. The two noticed something was off with you immediately. 

“You okay? How is he?” Max asks slowly, you didn't say anything. He could tell something was wrong when tears flooded your eyes. Closing the distance, he pulls you into a hug as a sob escapes your lips, you clutch onto him while you cry. Tears pour down your face as you explain what just happened, Max listens with sympathy written all over his face. 

 Hes silent for a moment, before an idea pops into his head “Let's get you to italy.” he says, determination in his voice as he grabs his phone, immediately googling flights. 

“what- but i don't have anything packed- what if there's no flights” you ramble, slightly shocked he was so set on this idea, he shakes his head, finalized in his decision that you needed to get on a flight as soon as possible and he didn't care how.

“Go home and pack, you don't need much it's only a night- SCORE” he turns the phone around, showing you a flight to Italy “leaves in four hours, if we hurry.. we can get you there” he says. You two lock eyes, a new sense of determination blooming inside you. You needed to be there for Lando, and you were going to get there.

It all happened so fast, one minute you were packing clothes into a duffle bag, and now you had landed in Italy, the flight was quick, two hours from London to Milan. You sat in the cab, the streetlights fading by as you made your way to landos hotel. 

The hotel was beautiful, wishing you could've come on better circumstances, thinking back to all the times you and Lando would be talking late at night, hushed whispers about what it was going to be like once he reached F1, all the places you’d go together. 

You never expected what reality would end up being. 

You stood in front of landos hotel room, Jon was standing next to you. Since the phone call, you had asked Jon to stay with lando. Explaining to him why incase of an emergency, you wouldn't be available for lando. He immediately agreed and also offered to walk you up to the room upon your arrival. 

Once the door opened, and you saw him. His eyes looked drained, his hair was messy from him running his hands through it. When he locked eyes with you, they widened so big they could’ve popped out of their sockets. 

He stared at you for a moment, trying to decipher whether or not you were really here, actually in front of him at his hotel in Monza. Once he felt you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace, it hit him. 

It hit him hard.

“Oh my god” he breathed as he melted into your arms, his emotions bubbling over again as tears escaped his eyes. He had never felt so relieved to be in your arms, not since that moment in a bathroom years ago, it was like you were an angel sent straight for him. 

He pulled away to get a good look at you, you were wiping his cheeks softly. He still couldn't believe you flew to him. 

“Are you actually here, or am I dreaming?” he asks, a wet chuckle escapes you both as you realize you're also crying. 

“Im here, i'm real” you smile, pulling him back into a hug as you smooth the hair on the back of his neck. “I couldn’t stay in London when you were here in this state. It would’ve killed me.” you sniffled. His hands wrap around you, holding on like if he’d let go, you'd disappear, and he'd wake up from this nightmare with you still in london. 

He pulled back, placing a soft kiss to your lips before mumbling many “i love yous” into your mouth as you kissed him back, soft and slow. Forgetting about Jon standing a few feet away from you two. He turns away slightly, letting you have your moment. 

You pull away echoing a soft “sorry” to Jon who just smiles softly, shaking his head in dismissal as Lando wraps his arms around your waist, activating his clingy-ness. 

You say goodnight to Jon as you and Lando head into bed, the events of the day taking their effect. Lando immediately wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your shoulder, placing soft kisses on the exposed skin before resting his head on your chest. 

“Thank you, for understanding me more than I do myself” he mumbles sleepily, his breaths even out as he finally looks at peace with his mind. Your smile is warm as you place a light kiss to his forehead before finally resting your eyes, having your boy in your arms. 

And when you wake up to a text message from Jon, attached is a video of you and landos reunion he recorded secretly, you smile, cropping the video properly to post on your instagram story.

Posted is a small 10 second clip of Lando realizing you were standing in front of him, then showing the hug you two shared. Rocking back and forth as intelligible murmurs are exchanged between you two. 

captioned for you, anywhere, anytime. 

Twenty two - a handprint on her heart

The sun was shining down on your face as you perched yourself on a lounge chair on the exquisite yacht you get to call home for the summer break. You sported a bright orange bikini as you read your book while you listened to the waves below you.

It was peaceful, until you heard the stomps of two smaller people, followed by the stomps of a bigger person. You looked to the door to see Mila and Athena squealing as they ran around the deck, followed by none other than your boyfriend, who was chasing them, pretending he was a sea monster. 

“Look! There's auntie, she’ll save us," Mila shouts as the two girls make a beeline for you. You quickly place your book down so the girls can climb on top of you, hiding from their overly enthusiastic uncle. 

“Ohh auntie can't save you now! She's on my side” he says playfully while you begin to tighten your grip around the girls, not strong enough to hurt them, but tight enough to where they would struggle to break free. 

The girls giggle as Lando ‘rounds the couch, the girls wiggling in your arms, sounding cries of betrayal while you laugh at the trio's antics. He makes it to your pile of laughter and starts tickling the two girls until they are breathless.

Once he ceases the tickles attack, you let the girls free. They hop to the ground, their baby feet bouncing off the deck as they make their escape from the tickle monster, but to you he's just lando. 

Lando lets out a sigh as he sets himself down on the couch next to you, placing his arms around your shoulder. You had been on this yacht for a week and he had already worked up a tan, he looked divine, the sun hitting his face perfectly as he turned to look at you before placing a kiss on your temple. 

“y’know, it’ll be nice when we have our own munchkins running around a yacht one day” he says, far too casually, as his hand traces your shoulder. You both knew you wanted kids, but also knew being twenty two, in the height of landos career was not the right time for either of you to even think about creating your own bundle of love. 

Before you could respond to him, Max waltz’s his way onto the deck, sunglasses propped on his face as he spots you two. “Don't you two look cozy” he jokes, acting like you two haven't been head over heels for each other since you were small. It was a running joke for years, Max loves to tease you two about anything and everything.

Today was no different 

“oi! LN,” he says, lightly smacking landos sunburnt shoulder, causing the brunette to wince. “When are you proposing, I've got bets placed man!” he says with a faux serious tone. 

You giggle at him, you had discussed this before, you had an list of milestones that you and lando wanted to complete in a specific order

Championship

Marriage

Kids 

“You act like we haven’t basically been married for years max” you say, playfulness evident in your tone as Lando pulls you closer by the shoulder. Lando knew Max was just joking, but deep down part of him did want to forgo the list years ago and just make you his wife.

He's known since before you were officially dating that he’d marry you, it was obvious to him, you were the only option. The only person he saw his future with, the woman he goes home to, the mother of his children, you checked all the boxes of perfection and he was anxious to put a rock on your finger to solidify it for eternity. Devoting himself to you completely. 

Lando observes as you and Max move onto a different topic, he observes every detail about you, the way your nose crinkles when you smile, how your freckles pop when you spend more time in the sun, the way you always manage to speak with a heartwarming smile etched onto your face. It made him dizzy the way he knew you better than he knew himself. You were his everything, there is no lando without you. 

“Lan baby, you with us?” you ask, noticing he spaced out slightly. Nodding he smiles, placing a kiss on your hand, interlaced with his.

“Yeah, just thinkin’” he says simply, thinking for a moment before he taps your shoulder, 

“Wanna go for a walk?”

– 

You walked down the side of the boat, your fingers interlocked as the sun casted a golden light on your skin. Lando rubbed his thumb over your knuckles as you walked to the edge of the boat, overseeing the mediterranean behind you. 

Lando is quiet for a moment, his eyes following the horizon while he thinks. You can see in his eyes he's piecing his sentencing together but struggling– after a while, he speaks up. 

“Max got me thinking,” he pauses, taking a deep breath “I wanna change the list.” 

Your heart stops, looking up at him to find anything on his face that says he's joking, you meet his eyes already looking at you, 

“Are you serious?”

He chuckles, running a nervous hand through his hair, “I've never been more serious about anything in my life baby,” you feel tears welling up in your waterline. “I've known my whole life that I wanted to marry you, I don't want to let a championship decide when.” 

He brings a hand up to cup your cheek, your bottom lip trembling while he continues. 

“You're it for me baby, I can’t remember what my life was like without you in it and I don't want to have to learn. You know me better than I know myself, I am hopelessly in love with you and there's nothing that will ever change that,” you were full on crying now, he takes a moment to collect his thoughts, 

“–loving you is my greatest achievement, no championship could ever come close to how i feel about you,” Lando feels a lump form in his throat as he tries to finish his mini speech before he becomes emotional. 

“Let's get married” 

You cry softly before you cry out a yes and Lando feels a surge of love flow through him. 

“Yeah?” he smiles so wide as you nod, tears freely flowing down both your faces as he pulls you into an earth shattering kiss.

He kisses you like you’re his last breath of fresh air— soft and sensual, holding your face with such gentle care like you’d break if he let go. 

You pull away for air, giggling into each other's lips, stealing more kisses as the sun begins to set over the sea. The air felt warmer as you kissed your fiancè, you kissed him again, and again, you kissed him so many times you forgot where you were. 

That was until Lando pulled away sharply with a gasp. “Wait here” he mumbles before he takes off running back into the yacht, you take a seat while you wait for him to return, slightly confused to where he ran off to. 

Moments later he comes back, hands held behind his back as he makes his way over to you, a cheeky smile spread across his tanned face. 

“I'm sorry, your actual ring is at home.” you choose to ignore that fact for the time being. “But I do have this,” he chuckles as he pulls a small ring pop from behind his back. 

You laugh at the small candy as he opens it, placing it on your left ring finger, placing another kiss to your lips, you throw yourself into his arms, returning the kiss in full force. 

“It's perfect, thank you.” you mumble into his mouth. 

He rests his forehead against yours, his green eyes pouring into yours— a window to his soul showing nothing but love for you as he pulls you closer, his smile giddy. “We're getting married!!” he exclaims, you both giggle as you revel in being newly engaged. 

You think back to when you were kids, before the fancy cars and extravagant races, you loved him before he made a name for himself, before the outside voices. When it was just you two on a karting track, nobody watching to see where he goes next. 

you will continue to love him in the highs and lows of his career, as he shows the world what he's truly made of. You will forever be there, holding his hand, being his first phone call. Continuing to support him throughout it all, believing in his dreams as they’ve now become yours. 

You will love him when it's over, when it's just you two in the quiet mornings, for when you have nowhere to be. When you're old and grey living in the countryside in London, hand in hand on the porch side of your family home, grandkids running around in the yard. 

Like a handprint over your heart, Lando had plastered himself over every inch of your existence. His love hidden in plain sight of places you’ve yet to even realize. you loved this boy with every fiber of your being, and you would love him in every universe, in every past life and through the next. 

You will love him anywhere, anytime. 

~~

i hope u enjoyed, thank u so much for reading <3

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Series Masterlist

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren’t quirks, they’re survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, Zak’s daughter OFC, forbidden romance vibes, very very slowburn romance, ableism on page, strong language, autistic meltdowns on page, eventual sexual content.

Notes — Hope you love it. This series will be longer than From Eden, possibly around 20 chapters. Remember to check each chapter for individual warnings.

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! — Peach x

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

[formulaonecrumbs]

we miss you 😕

dad!Lando Norris x mom!reader

summary: charlie, their 5yo son, didn’t want lando to leave for race week. though, he manages to sneakily message him from your phone

warnings: possibility of getting baby fever (i did)

A/N: i have such bad baby fever it’s crazy. i’ve literally wanted a kid since i was 12 so this fic is just feeding my delusions (when r they not) anyways i hope u enjoy! love u, sweethearts ❤️

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

the night before he left, charlie wouldn’t let go of his leg.

lando was standing in the hallway with his suitcase, trying to zip it up while charlie clung to him like a koala, arms tight around his thigh and face squished into the side of his leg.

“mate,” lando laughed, running a hand through his hair, “i need that leg. i kinda use it for walking.”

charlie didn’t budge. he mumbled something that sounded like don’t go into the fabric of lando’s sweatpants.

you were standing nearby with your arms crossed, trying not to melt at the sight. “he’s been like this all day,” you said softly. “he even asked if we could hide your passport.”

lando looked down at the little bundle of clinginess stuck to him and sighed. “charlie,” he said gently, crouching down. “come here, buddy.”

charlie let go just enough for lando to scoop him up and hold him close. he wrapped his arms around lando’s neck immediately, sniffing into his hoodie.

“i don’t want you to leave,” he mumbled. “i missed you all the christmas time and now you’re gonna be gone again.”

lando pressed a kiss into his curls. “i know. i missed you too. but i’m only going for a few days. i’ll call every night. and guess what?”

charlie blinked at him, lip wobbling.

“i’m gonna bring you back something super cool from the paddock. like… something very secret and race-car-ish.”

charlie considered this. “like a tire?”

lando grinned. “okay, maybe not that big. but something cooler.”

they stayed like that for a while. you were the one who eventually had to say, “lando, the car’s outside.”

he hugged you tightly at the door, whispered something about texting when he landed and to kiss charlie for him if he’s asleep by the time you get back inside.

but charlie wasn’t asleep. not really. you found him sitting on your bed with your phone in his lap and the most innocent expression ever.

“baby,” you said. “what are you doing?”

“nothing,” he said way too fast, quickly locking the screen and holding the phone out to you.

suspicious. but you didn’t think much of it.

it wasn’t until later, after you were in the kitchen and finally checking your phone, that you saw it.

today at 7:41 pm

hi dady

i miss u r u in the plane yet

how meny sleeps til u come home

can u tel the car go fast so u win n come bak

do u have snak

i am waring ur hoody mummie

said its to big but i like it

i put ur hat on my bear

read at 7:45 pm ✔︎✔︎

hey buddy

i’m on the plane now

i miss you so much already

you’re wearing my hoodie??

you’re the coolest kid ever. make sure mummy takes a picture, ok?

ok but she dosnt no i took her fone

pls dont tel her

your secret’s safe with me

but maybe give it back before she finds out

ok

also can we hav pankakes when u come home

pancakes and a race car story. deal?

read at 7:56 pm ✔︎✔︎

later that night (before you’d checked your phone), when you went to tuck charlie into bed, he was already curled up in lando’s hoodie with your phone under his pillow.

you sighed, smiling, and gently took it out.

you texted lando yourself before heading to bed.

today at 10:34 pm

charlie hijacked my phone

obviously

but he misses you. a lot.

we both do.

i miss you guys more than anything

already counting the sleeps

kiss him goodnight for me ♥︎ liked by you

and save me a spot in bed for when i’m back

♥︎ liked by you

read at 10:41 pm ✔︎✔︎

you held the phone to your chest for a second before turning off the light.

three more sleeps.

THE END :>

[81pastrys]

We’ve Talked

Summary— Lando’s wife brings up kids and Lando isn’t one to deny his wife.

Warnings— smut ; fingering ; slow sex ; pregnancy ; first time no protection

A/N— working on moreeeee 🩷🩷

Lando One Shots

Dividers @bernardsbendystraws @dollywons

Request— Could you do smut for lando where he’s really rough and oversimulates her cause she told him she wants a baby? Like leg shaking, eye rolling, cumming multiple times, and he finishes by cumming inside her.

“I want to start a family.” She squeaked. Lando was shocked. They were old enough, stable, married, and ready to start a family. It didn’t take much thought. “Lando? Did I say something wrong?” She asked.

“No, my mind is just running a mile a minute and my dick is hard.” He said seriously. “You really want a baby?” He was smiling beyond belief at the idea.

She nodded and they immediately went to the bedroom. Lando was relentless. “Lan, please.” He had fingered her for around 10 minutes and she wanted him to get on with it.

“Gotta make sure you’re ready for me love, it might take a while.” He teased. Finally he lined up and pushed in. They hadn’t had unprotected sex before this, so it was a different feeling to him. He decided against rough and hard. He wanted to make it a night to remember. Soft and sensual. He slowly rocked his hips, hitting all the right spots with ease and care.

“You’re insatiable.” She moaned at him. He kissed her lips and continued slow, feverish thrusts. She was enjoying it, as was Lando. “What’s on your mind?” She asked, he was staring in between them.

“How much more beautiful you’ll be with my baby.” He smirked at her and she choked a laugh in the midst of the moans. Her walls clamped tight as she did, causing him to stutter his movements.

“God I love you.” She breathed. She was close and Lando coaxed her on with sweet nothings and dirty talk as her walls were twitching around him.

“So pretty like this, you want my babies too, god you’re perfect love.” Were the words that sent her huffing towards her orgasm. He stilled inside her as she calmed down. “I’m close, are you sure you want a baby?” He teased.

“Fuck yes, please, please, Lando. Fill me up.” She moaned out quickly, her walls hugging him as he stuttered his movements again. Her body jolted at the feeling of his cum inside her. An addicting feeling she’ll never forget.

“It doesn’t hurt does it?” He was concerned at her reaction. She shook her head no and pulled him to her chest. They kissed slow and unhurried as he stayed deep inside her.

“It feels so good.” She breathed out, in disbelief they’ve never done it before. “God I love you so much, I can’t wait to have a mini you running around.”

A few weeks later the telltale signs of their nonstop fucking and trying to get pregnant worked. She made a doctor appointment and they did an ultrasound, showing a baby in her belly.

The beginning of Lila, ANYWAYS

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @itznotsophia @kallanfiona

[norrissm]

❀ WE LISTEN AND WE DON'T JUDGE — LN4

Lando Norris x Reader / est. relationship / library

Syn. Doing the TikTok challenge with your boyfriend. We listen and we don’t judge . . . except we do ;)

So Lando and I decided to hop on the TikTok trend, filming ourselves all cosy in bed — him in a hoodie, arm around me, and me holding the phone while trying not to crack up.

I hit play and turn to look at Lando. He was examining me while biting down on his laugh a devilish glint in his eyes.

“We listen and we don’t judge.” We say in unison.

“Okay I’ll go first,” I began.

“I once tried on your race suit when you weren’t home.”

“Wait what?” he huffed. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?” He hollered, half laughing. He was mad but the dusky pink in his cheeks gave it away.

I held on to his shoulder while trying not to choke on my breath with the way I was giggling at his comical expression.

“Did it fit though?” He asked giggling at the thought of it. “No Lan, your arms are too big,” I replied. I cupped his jaw unable to keep myself from chuckling. “Uh huh, fair.”

“Okay my turn,” Lando said.

“We listen and we don’t judge.”

“I keep screenshots of your texts when you say nice things about me.”

I was rendered speechless. My jaw hung open, warmth gushing to my cheeks with the biggest smile on my face. Lando was already out of frame as he hid his head, quivering down in my lap holding my knees for dear life. His neck was entirely a shade of red.

“Lando…”

“No shut up, don’t make a big deal.”

“But baby that’s so CUTE!” I called out now rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s so sweet. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He murmured now sitting up. “Okay okay next question!”

“We listen and we don’t judge.”

“I keep one of your hoodies in my cars when I miss you during race weeks.”

Now it was Lando’s turn to be speechless. He was thawing into a puddle. Immediately switches to a soft tone.

You do?” eyes crinkling into crescents at the idea of me nuzzling into his hoodie during his absence.

Instantly bombards me with a hug mumbling I love you into my neck — now both of us entirely out of frame.

After prying him off, now Lando entirely clinging to me and a love-struck smile on his face, we proceeded with the challenge.

“I once fake slept so you’d keep playing with my hair.”

He said spinning to me with a proud smile. I huffed at his confession although it made my heart skip a thousand beats.

“YOU LIAR!”

“What?? You were doing it so nicely. Scratching my scalp and shit.”

“So you mean I was sitting there for 20 min—”

“Yes and it felt great.”

I heave a pillow toward him which he successfully swerves with goofy grins on our faces.

“Okay last one,” I said. “We listen and we don’t judge.”

I hang back a bit, shyness overshadowing my demeanour. I clear my throat and barely veer away from Lando.

“Um, I kinda love when you’re all sweaty after a race. It’s disgusting, but it’s also unfairly attractive.”

My voice came out quieter than I aimed at as I looked at Lando. His mouth was barely open as he poked his tongue into his cheek. A cunning snicker appeared on his face.

“Uh-huh,” he plodded closer. “You’re down bad.”

I rolled my eyes at his teasing. Pressing him back by his chest. His body was warm under my fingers.

“Whatever, your turn”

“Alright then, we listen and we don’t judge.”

His demeanour switched to a more assured one this time around. He leaned nearer to me practically only whispering to me.

“I purposely wear gray sweatpants around you because I know you stare.”

My breath clamped in my throat under the gaze he ensnared me in. Before I could say anything he went on.

“I like it when you wake me up like THAT in the morning.”

“Lando STOP,” I whimper into my palms blanketing my face.

“Yeah? Then why are you hiding?” He picked on me. I could hear him sneering at this point.

“I’d give up a podium just to see you smile when you need it.” He declared ultimately.

My groans were hushed as I peeked at him from before my fingers. “You can’t say that.”

He simply chortled and whispered, “Come here, love.” Arms lurking around my waist as the video cut off.

[COMMENTS]

ln4fwdc: ‘I like when you wake me up like that in the morning’ SIR THIS IS A WENDY’S DRIVE-THRU.

user17371818: THE WAY HE LEANS IN AND LOWERS HIS VOICE. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS INFORMATION???

op81girlie: McLaren admin seeing this: ‘we don’t get paid enough for this job.’

maxriss: THE WAY HE SAID THE LAST ONE I JUST KNOW HE MEANS IT.

landoscar481: I just know this man is a PROBLEM behind closed doors.

reblog and follow <3 all rights reserved ©norrissm please do not copy, save, or translate my stories.

[inkandapex]

pole position

Lando Norris x Y/N

Summary: Lando does his best to teach his girlfriend how to drive — like a winner.

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: swearing

“No, Lando.”

“Please, baby,” Lando practically whines, ignoring the others in the room. “It’s just a quick shoot for the collab merch. In and out. I swear.”

Across the room, Max and his girlfriend P exchange an amused glance, barely holding back their laughter. For the past 20 minutes, they’ve been silent witnesses to Lando’s full-on groveling session — all to convince Y/N to take part in some new Quadrant content in Japan for their Liberty Walk collab.

Y/N shifts on the sofa, arms crossed. “Lan… I don’t know. I get so awkward doing stuff like that.”

“That’s why it’s perfect!” he insists, scooting closer until he’s basically backed her into the corner of the couch. “You don’t have to say anything or act. Just wear the merch, come to the car meet with me, let them snap a few pics, shoot a quick video. That’s it.”

“If it helps,” Max chimes in, lifting a brow, “P and I are filming too. We’ll be there the whole time.”

Y/N hesitates, her expression shifting. “I just…” she trails off, then drops her voice, “Do you want to know the real reason I don’t want to?”

Lando’s face softens. “Of course.”

“It’s the comments. Every time I’m in one of your videos or posts, people say stuff. About me, about us, and I—”

“Baby,” Lando says gently, reaching out to take her hand in both of his. “I don’t give two fucks about what people say. You know that, right? This is a big deal for me, and I want you there. With me.”

She looks into his eyes — all bright and hopeful and full of that boyish charm that always ruins her resolve. She lets out a slow breath.

“Alright,” she says with a soft smile, nodding.

Lando’s entire face lights up. “Yes!” he shouts, yanking her into a hug and nearly knocking her off the couch.

“Should’ve asked for something in return,” Max chuckles, leaning back with a grin.

“Damn,” Y/N says, raising an eyebrow as she pulls back slightly. “I should’ve, huh?”

Lando rolls his eyes at Max, then turns back to her. “Anything you want, my love.”

“Really?” she grins, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Yeah. Go on.”

“I kinda want a baby blue Miata,” she says sweetly, almost too innocently.

Lando scoffs and flops back onto the couch. “Baby, you can’t even drive.”

“Excuse me?” she gasps. “Yes, I can!”

“You can,” P jumps in, “but you don’t.”

“Only because Lando insists on driving every single time,” she shoots back.

“Because you freaked out the last time we hit the highway!” Lando laughs.

“That was one time!” she protests. “Maybe if I had a baby blue Miata, I’d want to drive more.”

Lando narrows his eyes at her, then grins. “Mmm... deal.”

Y/N laughs, patting his thigh affectionately. “I’m kidding, Lan. I’ll do the Japan thing. Promise.”

Max shakes his head, “Would've pressed him harder for that Miata, though. Just saying”

-------------------------------------------------

Lando had been out running last-minute errands before their flight to Japan the next day, leaving Y/N alone in their apartment. Now, she sat cross-legged on the floor of their closet, half-buried in a mountain of clothes, determined to pack everything perfectly. She was methodically rolling her shirts, one by one, stacking them neatly into the open suitcase beside her.

“Baby?” Lando’s voice called out from the hallway, followed by the familiar clink of his keys landing in the bowl near the front door.

“Bedroom!” she shouted back without looking up, still deep in her folding groove.

She heard his footsteps make their way through the apartment until he finally appeared in the doorway. When she glanced up, her hands paused mid-roll — Lando was grinning like a kid up to no good.

Her brows furrowed suspiciously. “What?”

“What?” he echoed innocently, settling down on the floor across from her.

“That look on your face…” she said slowly, narrowing her eyes. “What did you do?”

Lando shrugged, still wearing that mischievous smirk. “So, you know how we leave for Japan tomorrow night?”

“Mmhm,” she hummed, not looking up this time as she resumed folding.

“And how you so kindly agreed to come to the Quadrant event with me,” he added, voice casual.

She glanced at him again, more suspicious now. “Where is this going, Norris?”

“Just fulfilling a promise,” he said with a dramatic little bite of his lip, reaching behind him and pulling out a small paper bag.

Y/N stared at it as he placed it in front of her. “I’m scared.”

Lando laughed. “Just open it, you muppet.”

Still side-eyeing him, she reached into the bag and pulled out a small black box wrapped with a ribbon. She looked from the box to him, her stomach fluttering a little with curiosity.

Slowly, she untied the ribbon and flipped open the lid — her breath catching the moment her eyes landed on the contents.

“No…” she whispered.

Inside was a single key, the Mazda emblem shining in the light.

“It’s baby blue,” Lando grinned. “Just like you wanted.”

Her jaw dropped. “Shut up. You didn’t!”

“I did,” he laughed, watching her with pure delight. “It’s downstairs. Paperwork’s sorted and everything.”

“You’re fucking mental,” she said, wide-eyed, before launching herself at him. She tackled him into a tight hug, knocking them both back onto the soft carpet of the closet as they dissolved into laughter.

“Ow,” Lando wheezed through his smile, arms wrapped tightly around her. “Come on then—let’s take it out for a test drive.”

--------------------------------------------------

Lando sat in the passenger seat, turned slightly toward Y/N with a soft smile on his face. He watched her in silence, soaking in her excitement as she ran her fingers along the dashboard, adjusted the mirror for the fifth time, and looked around the interior like she couldn’t quite believe it was real. He’d already filmed a few clips on his phone — mostly of her gawking at the car like it was a newborn puppy.

“You really like it, huh?” he smirked, breaking the silence.

Y/N turned to him, eyes wide and a dramatic pout on her lips. “I fucking love it, Lan. This is insane. I love you.”

Lando chuckled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. “I love you too, baby. But, uh… we’ve been sitting here for like ten minutes now. Think we could maybe… I dunno, drive it?”

“Oh—right!” she laughed, quickly reaching for her seatbelt and clicking it into place. “Okay, okay. Focus.”

He watched as she adjusted her seat, then mumbled under her breath, “Okay… brake is here… this one’s the gas…”

Lando snorted. “Fuck, I knew I should’ve worn a helmet.”

She shot him a glare and smacked his arm.

“Ow!” he yelped, clutching the spot dramatically. “I was kidding, my love! Come on, you’ll be fine.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, then took a deep breath and put her hands on the wheel, her expression shifting into determination — though the slight panic in her eyes was still very much there.

“You ready?” she asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Lando said with a teasing grin. “Let’s see what this baby blue beast can do.”

Y/N hit the gas a little too enthusiastically, and the car jolted forward.

“Jesus!” Lando yelped, gripping the door handle. “Okay, not that much throttle, Max Verstappen.”

Y/N burst out laughing. “Sorry! Sorry! I got excited!”

“Just… ease into it, yeah?” he said, trying not to smile. “You drive like someone who just got signed by Red Bull and forgot they’re in a Miata.”

“Shut up,” she grinned, easing off the gas as they finally rolled out of the lot. “You bought me the car, now deal with the consequences.”

Lando laughed, eyes still on her — completely in love, even if slightly terrified.

“You gotta relax a bit, baby,” Lando said gently, glancing over at her. “Come on, you know this road — we drive through it all the time.”

Y/N’s jaw was tight, eyes laser-focused on the road ahead, and her knuckles were practically turning white from how hard she was gripping the wheel. “No, Lando,” she sighed, breath shaky. “You drive here all the time. I just sit in the passenger seat, stare out the window, and yap about random shit.”

He tried to hide his smile. “Fair point.”

She took a deep breath in, then out, trying to shake the tension from her shoulders.

“Just look straight ahead, my love,” Lando said softly, his voice calm as his eyes scanned the road. “You’re doing so good.”

“I’m gonna do a Monaco lap,” she mumbled, half-joking.

Lando’s face lit up like a little kid. “Ooooh,” he grinned, sitting up straighter. “What a clean first sector from Y/N L/N! She’s now approaching the iconic hairpin—can she nail it?”

Y/N burst into a laugh but kept her hands steady, guiding the car through the turn with a little more confidence than before.

“There it is! Smooth through the hairpin!” Lando shouted in his best commentator voice, leaning toward the windshield dramatically. “This is vintage Y/N — calm under pressure, minimal tyre degradation!”

She laughed again, the nerves beginning to melt away the farther they got from their apartment.

"How's my pace?" she asks, playing along

"Pace looks good Y/N, let's keep it clean" he responds

Lando stayed quiet when she needed to focus but tossed in bits of advice here and there. She was settling into it now — her grip on the wheel loosening, posture relaxing, her head even bobbing a little to the radio.

As they neared the end of the block — their self-declared “finish line” — Lando couldn’t help himself. He pulled his phone out, already hitting record with a grin.

“Y/N L/N now approaching the finish line!” he exclaimed, holding his phone toward her. “Can she take pole position?!”

Y/N giggled, keeping her eyes on the road. “Shut up, Lando.”

“And it’s pole position for Y/N!” he shouted triumphantly. “What a stellar lap! Purple sectors across the board!

Y/N laughed so hard she nearly missed the turn.

“You’re an idiot,” she grinned, cheeks pink from laughter and pride.

“I’m your idiot,” he said, still recording her.

“And apparently my race engineer.”

“Damn right,” Lando grinned. “We’ve gotta get you a seat now, my love.”

“Oh yeah? I heard McLaren’s looking for a new teammate for Oscar,” Y/N teased, glancing at him with a smirk.

Lando snorted, squeezing her hand. “Okay, maybe not my seat.”

She laughed, intertwining her fingers with his as the city blurred softly around them, late afternoon light filtering through the buildings, casting golden streaks on the dash.

They drove for a while like that, quiet moments filled with warmth and shared glances, her confidence behind the wheel growing with every block.

“You’re actually doing amazing, you know that?” Lando said after a few minutes, voice soft and full of pride.

Y/N looked over, smile tugging at her lips. “It’s the co-driver. He’s kinda cute.”

“Just ‘kinda’?” he grinned.

She shrugged playfully. “He’s growing on me.”

[cheftsunoda]

beauty and brains

(part three)

smau + real life

(this part is quite wordy i apologize)

“jules goes to meet lando’s family and him and charles have a much needed conversation.”

Charles Leclerc x !Doctor Sister Reader x Platonic F1 Grid

Leclerc Reader x Lando Norris

part one

part two

tag list : @klauslovemepls , @omgsuperstarg , @msliz , @samanthaofanarchy , @mayax2o07 , @goldenstrawberryx, @hannahmotors10 , @alireads27 , @1800-love-me, @htpssgavi , @cmgmikealson, @babygirl-4986 , @star73807-blog, @glow-ish

—

dr_jules_leclerc

japan 📍

liked by lando, quadrant, arthur_leclerc & 8,378,790 others.

dr_jules_leclerc : special day in japan w quadrant, libertywalkkato and the loml

see ya in suzuka bbs

—

lando : you are so fucking beautiful

lando : so happy to have you there with me angel

liked by author

dr_jules_leclerc : so happy to be there with you handsome- I am so proud of you<3

liked by lando

username4 : I am so happy they are happy^^ it warms my heart

username5 : they r so fucking cute

quadrant : our fave couple

liked by author and lando

arthur_leclerc : lando do you think it’s cool to just steal my big sister from me?

liked by author and lando

dr_jules_leclerc : arthur stop being dramatic - i will be in the paddock tomorrow

lando : I thought we agreed mclaren paddock tomorrow….

dr_jules_leclerc : I am splitting my time equally children.. you will both see me tomorrow.

pietra.pilao : absolutely loved getting to meet and hangout! (she is even more beautiful in person guys)

liked by author and lando

dr_jules_leclerc : you are the absolute sweetest! pls convince max to move you guys to monaco so we can hangout everyday😚

liked by pietra.pilao, lando and maxfewtrell

maxfewtrell : Trying my hardest to make it happen. Nice meeting you, Jules! So glad you gave Lando a chance- he is the happiest I’ve ever seen him.

liked by author and lando

alexandrasaintmleux : my beautiful angel 😻

liked by author

dr_jules_leclerc : love you smmmm pretty

leclerc_pascale : Je vous aime tous les deux!

liked by author and lando

charles_leclerc : Maman! You were supposed to tell Jules to stop ignoring me

liked by author

dr_jules_leclerc : charlie…i have not been ignoring you..i literally saw you two days ago

charles_leclerc : two days too many

dr_jules_leclerc : omg between you and arthur I can’t ever have a moments peace

liked by leclerc_pascale

leclerc_pascale : Maintenant tu vois ce que je ressens.

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arthur_leclerc : I have been betrayed by my own mother and SISTER

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username8 : I met Jules tonight and she was the absolute sweetest - definitely even more beautiful in person!

liked by author dr_jules_leclerc : so nice to meet you- thank you for the kind words!!

—

lando just made a post!

japan 📍

liked by dr_jules_leclerc, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri & 2,366,378 others.

lando : mega day at liberty walk hq with quadrant to launch our car/helmet combo- absolutely incredible to have the love of my life by my side. japan is even more special than usual this year. can’t wait to hit the track!

dr_jules_leclerc : so proud of you my angel- i will always be with you every step of the way! now go kick some ass on the track tomorrow 🤍

liked by author

lando : my love for you grows more and more each day

danielricciardo : get a room would ya

liked by author and dr_jules_leclerc

dr_jules_leclerc : miss you danny😭 still planning that trip to aus and im bringing max bc my maxiel heart is hurting

liked by author, danielricciardo and maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1: just let me know when the plane is leaving and I’ll be there

liked by danielricciardo and dr_jules_leclerc

username2 : JULES WILL BE THE ONE TO REUNITE MAXIEL I LOVE HER

maxfewtrell : 🇯🇵🔥

liked by author

username4 : was this an event for Jules or for Lando? because she stole the show..😍

liked by author

lando : she really did 😻 my girl is a stunner, ain’t she?

liked by dr_jules_leclerc

username4 : omg she absolutely is

lilymhe : fun time have been had lando now return my wife

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lando : settle it over 18 holes?

dr_jules_leclerc : she’d beat your ass babe

liked by lilymhe and alexalbon

monsterenergy : power couple

oscarpiastri : mate she looks cooler than you at your own event

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dr_jules_leclerc : love you osc

mclaren : we r in love with your girlfriend lando

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dr_jules_leclerc : you have my heart admin

—

real life - quadrant liberty walk event - jules pov

The energy buzzed through the cool Tokyo air, a perfect mix of roaring engines, camera shutters, and excited fans echoing off the walls of the Liberty Walk compound. I tucked my hands deeper into the pockets of my oversized jacket. I smiled to myself as I watched Lando animatedly talk cars with some of the team, his face lit up, bouncing slightly on his heels in that way he always did when he was excited. Five months into this whirlwind of a relationship, and it still didn’t feel real sometimes—being with someone like him, in places like this.

“Babe!” he called, spotting me across the lot, motioning for me to come over. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

I weaved through the crowd, offering a few polite nods to fans who recognized me.

"Dr. Jules! Could we get a picture real quick?" a younger girl in the crowd asked me and I stopped abruptly.

"Absolutely." I said and leaned into the group and she snapped the photo.

"Have a good night! You and Lando are perfect together." She said with a smile.

"Thank you mon ange, you have a good night! I hope you have fun." I said with a smile and then walked to join Lando.

Lando reached for your hand as you reached him, lacing your fingers together before tugging you gently toward a grinning guy standing next to a girl with long blonde hair and killer style.

“This is my best friend, Max—And this is his girlfriend, Pietra,” Lando said, his voice proud, like he was presenting a prized possession. “Guys, this is her- I told you she was real- Dr. Jules Leclerc.”

I laughed softly, rolling my eyes at Lando before extending your hand. “Just call me Jules- no need for formalities- I promise I’m not as mysterious or important as he makes me sound.” Earning a glare from Lando.

Pietra leaned in and gave me a quick hug instead of a handshake. “Finally! He talks about you all the time. I was starting to think you were a figment of his imagination.”

I smiled warmly. “I’ve been buried in the hospital the past few weeks, but I couldn’t miss this.”

“You’re a pediatric oncologist, right?” Max asked, eyebrows raised. “That’s intense.”

I nodded. “It has its moments. But I love it.”

Lando gave my hand a small squeeze, and when I glanced up at him, he was already looking at me with that soft, proud expression he reserved just for me. “She’s basically a superhero,” he said, only half-joking.

“Oh god,” I muttered, cheeks burning. “My head won’t be able to fit through the door if you keep this up.”

Max and Pietra laughed, clearly already warming to me.

“It is very impressive, something to really be proud of. You should have a massive ego.” Max said with a chuckle and Pietra nodded.

“We’re getting food later with the rest of the team,” Pietra said, looping her arm through mine casually. “You better come. I want to hear all the embarrassing Charles stories.”

I laughed. “Deal—but only if you promise not to tell him.”

“And I want to hear the embarrassing way Lando asked you out.” Max chuckled as he walked beside Lando.

“I think we can skip that today.” Lando said eyeing me and I chuckled lightly.

As the four of us fell into easy conversation, I couldn’t help but glance at Lando, his arm still loosely around my waist, his eyes sparkling. The event was exciting, sure—but this? This felt like something quietly perfect. Like I was exactly where I am supposed to be.

_

The soft hum of the plane’s engines was the only sound in the first-class cabin, dulled further by my noise-canceling headphones that currently played nothing but the low, steady rhythm of my own heartbeat. Lando was stretched out beside me, legs long, one arm slung across his lap as he scrolled through his phone. Every few seconds, his thumb would stop, and he’d glance at me.

I tried not to fidget. I was usually good under pressure—my whole career was built on staying calm in life-or-death situations. But this? Meeting Lando’s family for the first time? Terrifying.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I mumbled, turning my head toward him with a tiny smile.

“Like what?” he asked, wide-eyed and completely innocent, though the twitch of a smirk gave him away.

“Like you’re waiting for me to bolt out the emergency exit.”

He laughed under his breath and reached over to tug one of my headphones off. “I’d tackle you before you even hit the aisle.”

I rolled my eyes but leaned into him slightly, his warmth grounding me. “I just… I’m nervous.”

“Why?” he said, voice soft now. “They’re going to love you.”

I gave him a look. “Because I’m your girlfriend. And—newsflash—I don’t exactly have a laid-back job. What if I say something weird or fall asleep mid-convo from exhaustion? What if I spill wine on your mum’s rug or call your brother the wrong name—”

“Okay, okay,” he cut in, chuckling, slipping his hand into mine. “First of all, my mum already loves you and she’s only seen a photo. She literally asked if you were the one who saved that little boy from the racing-themed tumor project. Like… you’re halfway to sainthood in her eyes.”

I laughed softly, the tension in my shoulders easing a little.

“And second,” Lando went on, “my family is chill. No pressure, no royal protocol, no calling anyone sir—except maybe me, if you’re feeling flirty.”

I swatted his shoulder playfully, cheeks heating. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he said, leaning over to press a kiss to my temple. “But I’m ridiculously into you.”

I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder as I stared out the window. The clouds below looked like cotton stretched thin, and the sun was just beginning to dip, painting the sky in streaks of apricot and lavender.

“Do you think your little cousins will like me?” I asked quietly after a beat.

“They’re obsessed with anything F1. And you’re a literal doctor. I’m not even the cool one in this relationship anymore.”

I chuckled. “You never were.”

Lando gasped dramatically and pretended to be wounded, pressing a hand to his chest. “Ouch. My ego.”

I reached over, brushing my fingers along his wrist. “I’ll make it up to you. Just… hold my hand when we land, yeah?”

“Always.”

—

I barely had time to adjust my hoodie—Lando’s hoodie, as always—before the front door burst open and chaos immediately ensued.

“LAN-DOOOOO!”

A blur of tiny limbs flew at him, arms wide like they were mid-flight. Lando stumbled backward, laughing as one of his younger cousins tackled his waist. Another followed seconds later, shouting something about who won the last family karting race.

I stayed just outside the doorway, suitcase in hand, watching it all unfold with a half-nervous, half-amused smile. Honestly, it was adorable. Chaotic, yes—but adorable.

Then a new voice cut through the mayhem.

“Alright, give him a second to breathe—he’s not going anywhere!”

I looked up as a woman appeared from the hallway—poised, but warm, with the kind of presence that made me instinctively want to stand up straighter. Her eyes found mine immediately, and the smile that bloomed on her face was the kind that made my chest loosen just a little.

“You must be Jules,” she said, already stepping forward with her arms out. “I’m Cisca. Finally—I’ve heard about you nonstop.”

I hugged her, a bit surprised by how natural it felt. “It’s really lovely to meet you.”

“No, darling. It’s lovely to finally have you here.”

Before I could answer, another voice piped up behind her—calm, curious, and just as warm.

“Is this the famous doctor we’ve been hearing about?”

A tall man with graying hair and kind eyes stepped forward, his hands tucked casually in his pockets. This must be Lando’s dad—Adam. I straightened instinctively, not quite intimidated, but definitely a little on edge.

“Hi,” I offered with a soft smile, extending my hand. “Jules.”

“Adam,” he replied, shaking my hand firmly, then smiling. “We were starting to think you were mythical.”

“She is,” Lando cut in from behind me, dropping the suitcase to the floor and wrapping an arm around my waist. “Mythical, magical, and very much mine.”

I shot him a look. Adam laughed.

“I see the charm’s still running on full power.”

Before I could respond, a new presence slid into the hallway with a graceful sort of energy—cool, confident, and stylish without even trying.

“Hey,” she said with a wide grin. “You’ve got to be Jules. I’m Flo.”

I took her in immediately: Lando’s sister, effortlessly beautiful and clearly used to sizing people up fast—but she was smiling, which gave me hope.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” I said, returning the smile.

Flo raised a brow. “All good things, I hope?”

“Only the best,” I said, glancing at Lando, who looked suddenly far too pleased with himself.

The introductions started to blur after that—more cousins appearing from every room, snacks being offered like it was a competition, and multiple requests from the younger kids to show them how to do CPR “just in case.” I politely declined.

Flo pulled me aside once during the biscuit tornado and said, low enough so only you could hear, “Don’t take anything personally—this house is a zoo when everyone’s home. But… you fit in, weirdly well.”

It hit me unexpectedly—the weight of that sentence. I fit in.

Dinner was a mix of laughter, teasing, and gentle nudges from Cisca every time someone brought up Lando’s childhood phase of trying to name every Formula 1 driver’s pets. Adam asked about my work—genuinely curious—and even the little ones eventually quieted enough to eat. Flo talked to me like a sister you didn’t know I needed, and Lando? He couldn’t stop smiling.

Later, as I helped clear the table, Cisca touched my arm gently.

“Thank you for coming, Jules,” she said quietly. “You’re very… grounding for him.”

I blinked, then smiled, heart aching in that soft, slow way it did when something really mattered.

“Thanks for having me,” I whispered back.

And as I stepped back into the living room—Lando perched on the armrest of the couch, motioning for me to sit between him and Flo—you realized something else:

It already felt a little like home.

—

I barely had time to breathe after dinner before another voice rang out from the hallway.

“Oi! Is she here yet or did you scare her off already?”

I turned just in time to see a tall, sharp-featured guy with the exact same mischievous grin as Lando walk into the room, carrying a box of beers in one hand and a duffel in the other.

“That’s Oli,” Lando whispered under his breath with a crooked smile. “Brace yourself.”

“I heard that,” Oli called, shooting Lando a mock glare before turning to me. “So you’re the doctor-slash-twin-sister-slash-person willing to put up with this idiot?”

I blinked, then grinned. “Guilty.”

Oli set the beer down, dropped the bag, and walked straight up to ,e like I was already part of the family. “Respect. Honestly. Can I shake your hand, or do I have to go through a background check?”

“Just the handshake should do,” I deadpanned.

He laughed, clearly already loving me. “Alright, she’s cool. Lando, you might actually be in trouble.”

“Might?” Flo called from across the room, where she was stealing the last chocolate biscuit off a plate.

Just then, a new figure stepped in behind Oli—a woman with dark brown curls pulled into a loose braid, subtle makeup, and the calm energy of someone who’d spent her whole life being the observer in a storm of louder siblings. She smiled when she saw me, kind and open.

“Hi. I’m Cisca—junior, not mum,” she said, extending her hand. “Sorry we’re late. We got stuck in traffic and then Oli had to stop for snacks.”

“I told you I was starving,” he muttered, heading for the fridge.

I shook her hand, already liking her immediately. “Jules. It’s really nice to meet you.”

She leaned in a little, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Don’t let them overwhelm you. We tend to… swarm.”

I laughed. “I’m used to swarms. Pediatric oncology’s basically organized chaos with tiny humans.”

Oli popped his head out from behind the fridge door. “Oh god, you really are cool.”

Soon enough, the living room was full again—Oli cracking jokes, Flo calling him out on old stories, Cisca Jr. and I falling into quiet conversation on the couch about my work, and Lando sitting right beside me with a hand resting lightly on my knee, like even in all the noise, I was his constant.

At one point, Oli started recounting the story of how Lando accidentally reversed a golf cart into a pool on a family trip. Everyone roared with laughter—especially me, because the mental image was too much.

Lando just buried his face in my shoulder and groaned. “This is a violation of trust.”

“You brought me into the lion’s den,” I whispered, patting his back. “You had to know what was coming.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me, eyes sparkling, voice low. “Still glad you came?”

I didn’t hesitate. “So glad.”

__

The house had finally quieted.

The sound of laughter and clinking plates had faded into the gentle creaks of a house settling for the night. Most of the lights were off, except for the soft golden glow coming from the kitchen. I padded in, barefoot in one of Lando’s old hoodies—again—and found Cisca at the counter, stirring a mug of tea with slow, thoughtful movements.

She looked up and smiled, her expression calm and warm.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” she asked, reaching for a second mug.

I shook my head, sliding onto one of the stools. “Too much adrenaline. I haven’t socialized that hard since med school.”

Cisca laughed gently and passed me a mug, chamomile and honey wafting up in soft curls of steam. “You handled it beautifully. They all loved you.”

I cradled the mug in my hands and looked down at it, the warmth grounding me. “It was a lot… but a good kind of a lot. Your family is amazing.”

She watched me for a second—really watched me—with that same steady, maternal gaze she’d had from the moment I walked in.

“You’re good for him, you know,” she said quietly. “I haven’t seen him this… settled in a long time. Maybe ever.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the softness in her tone. “I didn’t do anything special.”

“You were just yourself,” she said, setting her spoon down. “That’s all it ever takes with the right people.”

I swallowed, something about her words landing deep in my chest.

“I was nervous coming here,” I admitted. “Not because of you or your family—but because… I know how close you all are. And I guess part of me wondered if I’d be too different. Too ‘doctor,’ too serious. Too… I don't know."

Cisca smiled gently, reaching out to place her hand over mine. Her grip was warm, comforting.

“Being close doesn’t mean we’re all the same. It means we show up for each other. And tonight, you showed up. For him. For us. That’s all we need.”

I felt my eyes sting a little—not with tears exactly, but something close. I blinked quickly and gave a small laugh. “Okay, if you keep being this nice to me, I will cry.”

Cisca squeezed my hand. “Then I’ll make you another cup and hand you a tissue. I’ve done it before.”

I looked at her, really looked, and saw a woman who had raised her kids with fierce love, sharp wit, and the kind of empathy that didn’t need to be loud to be felt. She didn’t need grand gestures. She just saw people.

“I really love him,” I said suddenly, softly.

Her eyes sparkled just a little. “I know you do.”

I sat in silence for a moment, sipping my tea, letting the quiet settle between us—not uncomfortable, but full. Like two women connected by someone they both adored deeply, each in their own way.

“I hope he knows how lucky he is,” she added a moment later.

I smiled to myself. “I remind him. Daily."

—

I closed the kitchen door as quietly as possible, mug still warm in my hands, my heart even warmer.

The lights were dim down the hallway, but I didn’t have to guess where Lando was. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed in one of his old hoodies, hair messy from running his hands through it, TV remote forgotten beside him. The second he saw me, his face softened like he’d been waiting to exhale.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low, thumb brushing under his bottom lip as I walked over.

I nodded, slipping onto the edge of the bed beside him. “Your mum and I had tea.”

His brows lifted slightly. “Oh no. Did she—did she bring out baby pictures? Or worse, the ‘Lando in the bathtub’ ones?”

I laughed, leaning into his side. “No, no blackmail material. Just… a really lovely conversation.”

He tucked my hair behind my ear, eyes searching my face like he wanted to memorize every version of my calm.

“What’d she say?”

I hesitated for a second, then looked up at him. “That I’m good for you.”

Lando’s breath caught, and his hand slowed where it had been tracing lazy circles on my thigh.

“She’s right,” he murmured. “You are.”

I smiled softly and leaned into his chest, letting the quiet settle. The world outside the walls of this room—my job, the races, the headlines, even Charles and his inevitable protective sibling grilling—it could all wait.

Right now, it was just the two of you, wrapped in flannel sheets and sleep-heavy affection.

“She also said you’re lucky to have me,” I whispered against his hoodie.

He kissed the top of my head without missing a beat. “I am. So ridiculously lucky.”

__

The Norris kitchen was already buzzing when I came down the stairs the next morning. I was in one of Lando’s oversized hoodies again—this one with the faded Quadrant logo—and a pair of socks that barely matched. My hair was up, barely tamed, and I hadn’t even thought about makeup yet.

But the second I stepped into the room, four pairs of eyes flicked toward me. And then I felt it.

I blinked. “…What?”

Flo grinned around her coffee mug, clearly trying not to laugh. Oli leaned back in his chair with a smug smirk.

“Good morning, Jules Norris,” he said pointedly.

I rolled my eyes and muttered, “That’s not even funny.”

Cisca Jr. glanced at her mum, who was very pointedly looking down at the toast she was buttering—but her smile was giving everything away.

Lando walked in right behind me, still sleep-warm and squinting at the brightness, and reached for my hand like it was second nature. Everyone noticed. I could feel it.

He yawned, totally unbothered. “Morning.”

Oli raised an eyebrow. “So you’re just casually holding hands in front of us now, huh?”

“Is this an official soft launch?” Flo teased, bumping my elbow. “Or are we already past that and in the ‘planning the wedding playlist’ era?”

Lando didn’t even let go of my hand. He just looked around, deadpan. “I’ve been in love with her for months. What stage do you think we’re in?”

I turned slowly to stare at him, heart suddenly thudding louder in my chest. He met my gaze like he meant every word.

Silence fell over the kitchen—except for the loud clink of Oli’s spoon dropping into his bowl.

“Well then,” Cisca said, setting down the toast, eyes twinkling. “I suppose we should start planning seating arrangements.”

Everyone burst into laughter, but Lando never looked away from me. His thumb brushed across my knuckles, grounding, steady.

I bit your lip to hide my smile. “We’ll start with brunch first.”

He smirked. “Then forever.”

—

dr_jules_leclerc just posted!

liked by ciscanorris, flonorris1, leclerc_pascale & 4,363,628 others.

dr_jules_leclerc : lando took me to meet his family and now i am the favorite

ciscanorris : We miss you already! Come back soon❤️ Love you both!

liked by author and lando

lando : we love you mum

flonorris1 : best sister in law i ever could’ve asked for 😉

liked by author and lando

leclerc_pascale : So glad you both had a good time! Safe travels.

liked by author and lando

ciscanorris : You raised a great girl, Pascale.

liked by author, lando and leclerc_pascale

leclerc_pascale : And you raised a wonderful man!

liked by author, lando and ciscanorris

charles_leclerc : great now come back to monaco pls

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dr_jules_leclerc : alex come get your menace

liked by lando, arthur_leclerc and alexandrasaintmleux

arthur_leclerc : it’s my fault- i keep calling lando our brother in law

liked by author and lando

charles_leclerc : they are NOT married

lando : doesn’t mean we will never be charlie 😚

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charles_leclerc : bad answer

—

lando just posted!

liked by ciscanorris, mclaren, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri & 3,378,368 others.

lando : can’t wait to make her dr. jules elise leclerc-norris (i added leclerc so charles won’t kill me)

ciscanorris : My beautiful children!

liked by author and dr_jules_leclerc

mclaren : glad you both enjoyed your break! 🧡

liked by author and dr_jules_leclerc

dr_jules_leclerc : miss you admin!

charles_leclerc : did not make it any better

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carlossainz55 : Am I best man??

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dr_jules_leclerc : you can always be a bridesmaid too

adam_norris_pure_electric : Very excited to brag about my daughter in law who saves lives everyday!

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lando : your son driving in f1 is no longer brag worthy?

adam_norris_pure_electric : lando she literally saves lives everyday - a SUPERHERO

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oscarpiastri : You guys are so cute it makes me sick to my stomach.

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—

It had been a couple of days since Lando and I flew back from the whirlwind family visit. I was back at work, deep into patient rounds and case notes, and Lando had been catching up with sim training, press, and a full inbox of post–triple header chaos. The house was still littered with half-unpacked bags and the soft scent of my perfume clinging to his hoodie on the back of the couch.

And today—finally—Charles came over.

Charles sat across from Lando on the balcony, legs stretched out, espresso in hand. He looked relaxed—but Lando knew better. There was a storm under all that calm. There always was when it came to me.

“So,” Charles said finally, eyes squinting against the sun. “You and Jules.”

Lando swallowed, setting down his coffee.

“Yeah. Me and Jules.”

“She’s serious about you.”

It wasn’t a question—but it hung in the air like one.

“I know,” Lando said quietly. “I’m serious about her too. More than I’ve ever been with anyone.”

Charles looked at him for a long beat. No teasing, no narrowed eyes. Just watching.

“I always knew someone would come along,” he said eventually, “but I didn’t think it’d be a driver.”

Lando didn’t flinch. “I didn’t think it’d be your sister. So here we are.”

A twitch of a smile—barely there—but it made Lando feel like he hadn’t already lost the fight.

“I’ve seen her go through hell and still walk into that hospital every day like she’s made of armor,” Charles said, voice low now, all truth. “She doesn’t let people in easily. Not really.”

“I know,” Lando murmured. “But she lets me in. And I don’t take that for granted.”

Charles stared down into his coffee for a moment before asking the thing that mattered most.

“What do you want with her?”

Lando didn’t hesitate.

“I want to build a life with her.”

Charles looked up.

“I’m not saying tomorrow. I know she’s got a career that matters and so do I. But when I think long-term, it’s her. Always her.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy—it was full. Full of everything they didn’t need to say out loud anymore. Lando had shown up. He’d met the family. He’d seen Jules in chaos and quiet, in grief and joy. And through all of it, he stayed.

Charles finally leaned back in his chair, sighing through his nose.

“She talks about you like you’re… peace,” he said. “Like she finally stopped running.”

Lando smiled—soft, genuine. “She’s peace for me too.”

A long pause.

Then Charles clinked his espresso glass against Lando’s and said, “Don’t screw it up, mate.”

“No pressure,” Lando said, smirking. “Just the most important relationship of my life and your blessing. Easy stuff.”

Charles shook his head, smiling despite himself.

“I still might kill you if you ever hurt her.”

“I’d let you.”

Another beat of silence. Then Charles added, a little too casually, “So… when are you telling Maman?”

Lando’s eyes widened. “About what?”

“That she might be planning a wedding in the next year or two.”

Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Let me propose first, man.”

“Tick-tock,” Charles said with a grin.

But underneath the teasing, Lando could feel it—the trust. It was real now.

—

omggg part three is finished! as always let me know if you guys want me to continue or if you have any requests for other stories! thank you for all your support this far!

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧'𝗦 𝗜𝗧 lando norris x girlfriend! reader ( smut ) fic summary . . . you might have broken up, but the ghosts of your past still linger. it's as if you never left, maybe he never did (1k words)

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )

CONTENT WARNING — ( +18 MDNI, smut, doggy style, reverse cowgirl, chocking, quiet/silent reader, inexperienced reader, experienced lando )

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Lando’s used to the quiet.

 The little furrow between your brows. The parting of your lips.

 The way your body melts into his hands like warm wax.

He doesn’t need moans. He doesn’t need praise.

 He can see how good it feels.

Still—he wonders.

Every time he moves inside you—slow, steady, thoughtful—he watches your expression like it’s scripture. He watches the way your lashes flutter, how your breathing hitches, how your fingers curl into the sheets.

Your body talks even if your mouth doesn’t.

And when you do speak, in whispers, it’s always for him.

“Is this okay?” “Am I doing it right?” “Do I feel good?”

You ask like he’s the only one who would know. And maybe he is. You’ve never had anyone but him. Never been touched like this. Never trusted someone enough to be undone in silence.

And Lando—fuck. Lando takes that seriously.

He’s gentle. Soothing. Sure.

He touches you like a craftsman, like a man who’s read every inch of your skin and still wants to re-read it forever.

Tonight, he’d started behind you. Holding your hips, kissing your spine, fucking into you so slow it made his thighs shake with control.

You were quiet, like always. A whisper of breath when he pushed deeper. A twitch of your jaw. Nothing more.

But then—

 he shifted.

Sat back.

Pulled you into his lap.

Settled you on top of him, chest to his, your back against his front, thighs spread wide over his, slick and gasping.

“Just like that,” he murmured, one arm around your waist, the other gripping your hip. “I’ll help you move. You don’t have to do anything, baby.”

And then—

 he fucked up into you.

And that’s when he heard it.

 A noise.

Small. Barely-there.

A soft, breathy little moan, punched out of you like you didn’t mean to let it slip.

Lando froze.

Then groaned.

Then did it again. Thrust up. Firm. Deep. Slow.

Another noise.

 A delicate whimper, like the quietest music. A sound he'd never heard before — not like that.

He lost it.

“Oh, baby,” he gasped, mouth on your shoulder. “That’s it. That’s the sound I wanted. Please, let me hear more.”

You whimpered again, thighs trembling, neck dropping back to rest on his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to—” you whispered, flushed and dazed.

Lando hushed you. “No, no, no. That was perfect. You sound so fucking good, you don’t even know.”

He kept going. Gentle but purposeful, thrusting up into you like he wanted to memorize every soft sound you made.

“Feels good?” You nodded. Face slack. Mouth open. Another little noise, soft and choked.

“You’re doing perfect,” he whispered into your skin. “You’re so good for me. You feel like heaven, fuck—baby, I love you like this.”

Your hand reached back for him blindly. He took it. Lace your fingers. Held you there, filled and fluttering and finally heard.

And when you came — soft, silent, trembling — he felt it everywhere.

 In your pulse.

 In your grip.

 In that delicate cry, tucked into his neck like a secret meant only for him.

[landopoet]

daddy’s makeover

a short blurb in which lando gets a makeover all because he can’t say no to his daughter. (thanks to @clovermoters for the collage <3)

The house was a little too quiet for a Thursday afternoon.

You had woken up from a short nap— your sudden fatigue was courtesy of none other than the growing baby in your belly— and immediately noticed the eerie silence in the hallways.

Usually, you’d hear a TV show from the living room or laughter from the kitchen, or your daughter singing along to Taylor Swift from her bedroom.

Worried about the lack of any sort of noise, you stumbled out of bed and started checking the rooms.

The living room was empty, apart from the scattered dolls on the coffee table and the pink blanket messily thrown to the floor in a haste. The kitchen, which you had left clean before your nap, was littered with ingredients on the kitchen island and plates on the dining room table.

The only sound you could hear was the faint noise of your daughter shushing someone from her bedroom. Once you got close enough, you gently pressed an ear up to the shut door and heard your husband’s voice on the other side.

“Vi, is this necessary?” Lando said with noticeable discomfort to his voice.

Vienna rolled her eyes. That’s something she’s been doing recently— rolling her eyes at Lando when he disagreed with her. It made you laugh, but Lando felt obviously offended by it.

“Yes, dad, it is. You look pretty.”

That’s what caught your attention. Your hand softly engulfed the door handle and you gently pried it open to reveal your little family sat on Vienna’s bed.

“Oh, hi, mum!” She leaped off of it the second she saw you. You reciprocated her hug when her arms wrapped around your belly, “and hello little brother.”

“What are you guys doing?” You still hadn’t had time to properly notice what was happening to Lando. It was only when you locked eyes with him— a look in his green pupils so defeated that it made you feel bad— that you noticed the pink circles on his cheeks, the blue eyeshadow on his eyelids and two pigtails atop his head.

Vienna hopped her way back to the bed and picked up her lipsticks. “I’m giving daddy a makeover!”

Lando dropped his shoulders in defeat once Vienna’s fingers tightly held onto his chin and she forced him to look at her as she applied the bright pink lipstick to his lips.

A laugh rumbled through your chest at the sight— Lando was so tightly wrapped around Vienna’s finger that he just couldn’t say no to her little makeover.

It was sweet, honestly, how much he loved her. Obviously, he was excited to become a dad six years ago and he knew it’d come with its own challenges, but he never imagined one of them to be pink lipstick and mascara. Still, he let Vienna go crazy with her makeup as long as it made her happy.

“You look gorgeous, babe,” you try your best to hold in your laugh as you lean against the doorframe, still watching the scene in front of you.

Once Vienna’s finished, and Lando can finally get up, you notice the mischief in his eyes. “For the record,” he places a big, pink kiss on your cheek as his hands find your hips, “I only did this so she wouldn’t wake you up with whatever else she would’ve come up with.”

“Uh huh,” you laugh against his lips as he continues to leave pink kiss marks all over your face. “Or you can admit that you just needed a makeover from the best makeup artist in town.”

Vienna smiles at your compliment to her skills and looks over at Lando with an expectant look in her green little eyes. “Is that true, dad?”

Lando turns back toward her with a smile, “of course, Vi. I love my new look.”

If you thought his makeup was funny, you were not ready for his reaction to it. He didn’t take the makeup off for a good few hours and finally, when he went to the bathroom, you heard a loud yelp that had you down there in merely a few seconds.

“What? What’s wrong?” You burst in through the door. Once you saw him, you couldn’t help but laugh again. “Oh, god.”

“What did she do to me?” He whisper-yelled as he tried his best to get it off by scrubbing his face with water and face wash.

You opened up the cupboard and handed him cotton pads and micellar water. “She gave you a makeover, duh,” you rolled your eyes.

“You really need to stop doing that, she started rolling her eyes, too,” Lando complained as he took the items from your hands and wiped his face off, finally seeing his tan skin again underneath the layers of foundation.

“Who even got her all this makeup?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he scrubbed off the pink blush circles off of his cheeks. “She’s six years old, she doesn’t need all this.”

“You did. For Valentine’s day, when she asked you to go to a makeup store after your lunch date and you can’t say no to her, apparently.”

“Oh,” Lando drew his lips into a line as he nodded. “Right. I should’ve thought that through.”

[landoughnut]

Pit Stop Staring

♡ masterlist - request

♡ pairing - lando norris x mechanic!fem!reader

♡ summary - lando notices you during a pit stop, gets distracted and stares at you, and embarrasses himself on the radio being aired as he gushes over you, but with a little push from Zak, he makes his move on you!

♡ warnings - fluff, BLUSHY and nervous lando, love at first sight, a pinch of jealousy, Zak's a wing man, lando being cute and STUTTERINGGG hehehe

♡ w/c & a/n - 1.86k | #ilovetommy

Today was your first day working as a mechanic during an actual race, and you couldn't be more excited. You'd just finished your months of training and you felt pretty confident in yourself, so you weren't too nervous.

The McLaren team was more than welcoming when you first started, although some were a little apprehensive to have a girl working with the heavy tires, you proved them completely wrong and quickly gained their admiration, making friends with some as well.

As for the two papaya drivers, you had only briefly met Oscar about a month ago while leaving a meeting. He told you he was happy to be working with you soon, and he thought you will do amazing. You spoke shortly before he was being called off by someone, but he said goodbye and wished you best of luck.

The other driver, Lando, you had unfortunately not met yet. You heard quite a lot about him, and people said he was kind with a great sense of humor, so you crossed your fingers and wished you were able to catch him and introduce yourself. You also had seen some edits of him on your feed, not that you would tell anyone that, but you couldn't deny that he was quite a looker.

Back to today, though, you were waiting to see the bright papaya cars pull into the pit stop for their tire exchanges. After some laps, the first one to pull up was Oscar, and you and the others quickly got to work with a successful change in just about 2 seconds.

You beamed as he drove away and got a high five from your mechanic friend, Tommy, and he grinned at you, "That was great! And your first time too! You'll be putting me out of my job soon," he laughs.

You shake your head and poke his side, walking back to the garage, "Don't be silly! I did learn from the best," you say and give him a dramatic wink.

"Ha. Ha. You flatter me," he pats your head. You just push his arm away and turn your head to look at the race stats.

Oscar is in a good fourth place currently, and Lando in second, four seconds behind Max. You watch the race for about three more minutes before you hear that Lando was told to box next lap, so you and the mechanics rush out to the pit once again and prepare your gear.

A few moments pass before you can spot Lando's bright helmet in his car coming closer. He finally arrives and pulls up into his spot, while doing so, he glances around and his eyes land on you.

His mouth drops open slightly and he whispers a little, "Wow." Everyone does his tire change just as fast as Oscars, but Lando was still staring at you, who he thinks might be an angel sent down from above just for him.

Wow, he thinks to himself again, you have to be the most gorgeous person he's ever seen. He doesn't even realize that everyone has cleared the way for him to exit the stop until he sees you tilt your head and he hears his race engineer's voice, "Lando! GO! What are you doing, mate?!"

That snaps Lando back to reality, and he quickly drives away, now in last place due to how long he was there. He feels his neck and cheeks heat up in embarrassment. There's no way he would have a chance with you after that.

"I-I'm so sorry, she was s-so beautiful, and she looks like an a-angel, I-I got distracted," he stutters quietly to Will, his race engineer.

"Oh my- Lando this is being aired, you can't say stuff like that, mate!" Will sighs but he can't help but laugh a little bit. However Lando does the opposite now, he chews his lip like he's about to cry of humility, since now he knows you just heard him say that and you were the only girl there, so you know he had to be talking about you.

Back to where you were, you laughed at the radio message, curious to who he was stuttering over. Tommy's eyes bulge as he hears it, head whipping toward you.

You look at him and furrow your eyebrows, "What?"

He just blinds at you before yelling, "Lando Norris said you're beautiful! And look like an angel!"

"What? No he didn't?"

"Are you- who else would he be talking about?!" Tommy puts his hands on your shoulder and gently shakes you.

"Uhh," you laugh and glance at the other mechanics who are smirking and you and raising their eyebrows up and down. "I don't know, there are some women team members right over there," you point to the side.

Tommy just drops his head down and shakes it, "No. He was talking about you!"

"But.. I'm.. well, me? Just an average new mechanic," you look down at your uniform, "in some very unflattering working clothes."

Tommy just steps back and crosses his arms, "First off, don't ever say you're 'just you', because you're my best friend here," he whispers, so the others won't hear him, and you giggle. "Second, the clothes may be a little unflattering but you're still a very pretty girl," he smiles at you.

"Awhhhhh, Tommy! Who knew you were such a sap!" You hug the boy in thanks and he reciprocates it as you walk to the garage once again.

"So are you going to ask him out later?"

You almost choke on your breath, "What? No! Of course not! Are you crazy?"

He rolls his eyes, "Come on, he was just stuttering. Lando Norris was stuttering over you, if that isn't love at first sight then I don't know what is," he shrugs.

"Tommy!" You slap his arm, "We are done with this conversation."

"But-"

"End of discussion!" You huff, turning on your heels and walk away. Leaving your friend to rub his face in defeat.

When the race ended with Lando placed seventh due to the mishap from before, he hopped out of the car and rushed over to Zak.

Zak pulls the boy in for a hug and ruffles his hair, which was quite the opposite reaction Lando had thought he would see, since he cost the team points.

Once he lets go of Lando, the only thing he gets out of his mouth is, "Who was that?"

Zak lets out a laugh and tries to keep in a grin, "Who? Her?" he nods over to you, standing while chatting with Tommy again. Lando frowns as he watches you two.

"Are they dating?" he asks the older man.

"Hmm," he pretends to think about it, "yes," he nods. Of course he's only kidding, trying the get a rise out of the British boy.

"What?" Lando's head snaps to the man, looking utterly devastated. Zak starts laughing loudly, looking at him, and thinks this is what the human version of a kicked puppy would look like.

"I'm only joking, buddy, why don't you go and ask her?" Zak pats Lando's shoulder.

"U-uh I don't know...."

"Oh, come on! You're Lando Norris!"

The boy sighs and looks at you longingly. That was until you glanced over at him and he quickly turned back to Zak, his face now turning red again at being caught. "What about no work relationships?"

Zak sighs and shakes his head, "Listen, I'll talk to people about it and I'll make it work, okay?" He smiles and Lando lets his lips twitch into a tiny smile. "Now, go get your girl!" He turns his shoulders and pushes him forward a little bit.

Lando blinks fast and his heart races as he nervously makes his way over to you two.

You don't notice but Tommy does and bites back a teasing comment. "Lando Norris! The legendary man himself!"

You look to your right and see the boy bouncing slightly on his feet, twisting his hands and he looks back and forth between you both. "H-hi," he whispers to you, his ears turning red at your kind gaze.

"Hi! It's nice to finally meet you," you smile at him.

Tommy nods, "Yeah, and nice radio message today, man, real smooth," he chuckles.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando now wishes the floor would swallow him whole. "Uh, y-yeah, thanks?"

Tommy just laughs, "Oh! I think someone is calling me, gotta go!"

You watch him walk away, and Lando glares at him. "Did you hear someone calling him?" you ask.

"No, but, um, I-I'm sorry for today, a-and I didn't-"

You quickly shake your head and smile, "No! Don't apologize, really! I'm honored!" You put your hand on his arm, causing him to tense. You quickly remove it and apologize, "I'm so sorry! I should have asked-"

"N-No!" Lando says, and Zak drops his head into his hands as he watches the scene from afar. "You can touch me anytime! I-I mean- bloody hell- n-not like that! I mean you can if you wa-" he slaps a hand over his mouth before he can embarrass himself and more.

You just blush as you watch the boy, you find it endearing, to be honest, you've never had someone act like this with you before. "Lando! Please, don't worry, I think your rambling is cute, and... you yourself are cute too," you put your hands behind your back.

"Me? Really? You think I'm c-cute?" He lets out a nervous laugh in disbelief.

"Is that so hard to believe?" You frown.

"I... guess not.. but you're.. you! W-way out of my league..." he trails off.

"You have to be joking!"

He just looks down at his feet and smiles, his body slowly untensing as he feels a little less nervous. It's not that he's stuttering and blushing because he's scared of you, he's just never met someone so... perfect.

He slowly raises his eyes back up to look at you, "Well... then would you m-maybe want to... get dinner with me later?"

Your smile widens at the hopeful look in his eyes, you pinch your arm once, just to be sure this is really happening and not a dream. "Of course! Oh, I'd love to, would you like my number to send me the details?" you ask him.

He nods and pats his pocket for his phone, "Oh! I left my phone in my driver's room... but if you have yours, I'll give you mine?"

"Sure," you nod and hand him your phone, watching as he creates a contact for himself. "Well, I do have to go back, I promised my friends to hang out for a bit after the race but I'll see you later," you tell him.

He smiles at you, "Alright, see you!"

You turn around, walking to your friends who were giggling to themselves, watching the whole thing.

Lando is left in his spot, practically lovestruck, "What a woman," he whispers to himself dreamily.

He jumps with a yelp when he feels a hand on his shoulder, "Well done, kid! You got yourself a date!"

Lando turns to look at a way too excited Zak Brown, "Yeah... I suppose I did."

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal

In which Lando befriends a single mom without even realizing it.

Warnings: single mom. talk of parental death (no death featured on page), lando being a judgey jerk at first, kinda? Pairing: Lando Norris x SingleMom!Reader Word Count: 5.4k words

Master List

yourusername (private) posted

109 likes liked by yourdad, BFFsarah, McLaren, and others yourusername Work holiday party with my mini me! yourdad my two favorite girls! >>>yourusername thanks dad! <3

The fairy lights that stretched back and forth across the ceiling of the McLaren Technology Center sparkle down at you, a soft glow illuminating the spacious front lobby. Half a dozen 12 foot Christmas trees dot the cavernous room and tables decorated with rich red, green, and silver accents create intimate seating areas throughout. The only things indicating that the offices were home to McLaren's Formula 1 team were the seven or so F1 cars from past and present, all put on display for tonight's party.

The events team had certainly outdone themselves this year, that was for sure. If there was anything the McLaren events team went hard for every single time, it was the MTC's annual family holiday party. This year though, the entire team had extra reason to celebrate: earlier in the month, the team had brought home the Constructor's Championship for the first time in years.

"Momma, where's Aunt Sarah?" Your six year old daughter Stella asks softly, her little hand tucked securely in yours as she looks around, eyes wide in awe at all the decorations.

"I don't know, munchkin." You reply, grinning down at her. "Do you want to see if we can find her?"

Your best friend Sarah was surely already here as she was one of the heads of the events team. She'd been planning this party for months now, the added pressure from the championship win had nearly driven her mad. A quick text is answered even quicker and you lead Stella towards the massive ballroom that sits on the opposite side of the sleek modern building.

As you walk down the hall, the heels of your stilettos clicking softly, you're surprised to be hit with a wave of nostalgia. You'd been working for McLaren for almost two years now, after Sarah had given the head of product development your resume when you graduated uni with a degree in computer science and data analytics. Marshall, the man who ran the department, had offered you a job as a data analyst on the spot when you came into interview the following week. It had all felt like divine intervention, going from getting pregnant so young and having no other choice but to navigate parenthood alone to finding yourself employed within weeks of graduating. McLaren truly felt like your second home now.

"There's my Stelly Belly!" Sarah cries when she sees Stella and you walking towards her. Without a second thought, your daughter drops your hand and flings herself into the waiting arms of your best friend, one of the few adults the little girl trusts enough to open up to.

"Don't you look pretty tonight?" Sarah coos, nuzzling her head into Stella neck, eliciting a squeal and a cascade of giggles from your little girl. "And your mama looks stunning too!"

Rolling your eyes, you smooth down the front of the red satin dress you'd bought last week. "Are you sure it's not too much?"

Your brows knit together in uncertainty. Ever since having Stella at 19, your life had revolved around the little girl. Everything you did and every choice you made was made because of her and with her best interest in mind. Going to university when she was a newborn had been for her benefit and the time spent away from her while you studied and attended classes were paying off now with your secure job and hefty paycheck. But you weren't used to calling attention to yourself, totally content with working behind a computer screen in your quiet office tucked in the back of the MTC. You came to work, socialized very little, and went home to your daughter. This kind of event was very much out of your comfort zone.

"Stop that." Sarah scolds as she sets Stella down. "You look so good you're going have the mechanics breaking their necks all night long."

"Okay, that's enough." You huff.

"Momma, Sarah says there's holiday crafts over there!" Stella points vaguely towards the other side of the room. "Can we go? Please?"

"Of course, sweetheart. Let's go."

"I'll take her!" Sarah volunteers, capturing Stella's little hand in hers before giving you a look. "Go get a drink or something. Have some fun. Stelly Belly and I will go make all the crafts!"

You watch after your best friend and the other half of your heart as they scamper away, Stella's red velvet dress fluttering behind her. Somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach, a painful clenching feeling takes root. For the past six years, your entire universe has revolved around that little blonde headed girl. Even now, though you spent more time apart from Stella than you cared for because of school for her and work for you, whenever she was out of sight it felt like a bit of you was missing.

Once you see her settle at the table right next to Sarah and begin coloring something in front of her, you turn away and wander towards the open bar. If there was one thing McLaren did right at these kinds of parties, it was provide top tier food and drinks for the employees.

You order a glass of what smells like the most heavenly mulled wine you've ever encountered and find a spot away from the crowd, leaning against a pillar in the shadows of the room. You weren't used to being around so many people and while you were glad Stella seemed to be enjoying herself, you could feel your social battery already draining.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite McLaren employee." A smooth voice interrupts your anxious thoughts.

You blush into your glass of wine, knowing who it was sneaking up behind you before you even turned around. "I'm telling Oscar you said that."

Lando slips in beside you, caramel colored cashmere jumper brushing against your bare arm. "You wouldn't dare." He says, bumping your shoulder gently. You can hear the smile in his voice without even looking.

When you say you don't socialize much at work, there is always going to be one exception to that rule: Lando Norris. He had wandered into your office one day about six months ago looking for the legal department of all places. Lando had sheepishly admitted he may have accidentally signed a contract to be the spokesman for a bank in Singapore while drunk on holiday and needed to see what how mad everyone was going to be. You then had to admit you were, in fact, just a software engineer and not a solicitor and he was not, in fact, anywhere near the legal department.

An unlikely friendship had been born that day though because instead of turning around and scampering away out of sheer embarrassment, Lando had plopped himself down in the chair opposite your desk and spent nearly an hour and a half peppering you with questions about your job.

Lando liked those moments he got to slip away during his busy days at the MTC to see you. It seemed like lately, he would find himself carving out time during his day to make a special visit to your office no matter what else he had scheduled that day. He liked the way you talked to him like he was a normal person and how easily you laughed at his jokes. You never made him feel stupid or inferior for asking questions about whatever project you were working on that day and you never asked him about racing. Not once. You were also the prettiest girl he'd ever seen and he was embarrassingly addicted to making you smile.

"You look stunning tonight." Lando says in a hushed voice. "Red is your color."

Although he's next to you still, Lando manages to steal little looks at you out of the corner of his eye. The red dress you've got on tonight should be illegal and it's showing off every dip and curve of your body. You pride yourself on how well you dress at the office but tended to stick with neutral colors and classic, conservative shapes that weren't jarring and allowed you to fade into the noise of a busy office a bit. The red was totally out of character for you and Lando found himself wanting to buy you an entire closet full of colorful dresses.

Your cheeks go crimson and you're thankful for the dim lights that hide it. "Thank you."

The other thing you're not used to is attention from men. Like your social life, any semblance of a dating life had been put on the back burner when you became a single mom. You didn't much miss it, if you were bing quite honest. Spending time with Stella was better than wasting a night on a man that would only end up disappointing you.

So when someone like Lando complimented you on the dress you wore you don't quite know how to react.

"Momma! Momma, look what Auntie Sarah and I made!" Stella interrupts anything that's about to come out of Lando's mouth when she runs up brandishing what looks to be a fairy wand tied with dozens of glittery ribbons.

You crouch down, not missing the way Lando stiffens beside you, and take the plastic wand out of Stella's hand. "Is this a magic wand?" You ask, voice breathy with awe.

"Yeah! Aunt Sarah helped tie the ribbons on after I picked them. They're all glittery and match Elsa's ice queen dress."

You smile, Elsa had always been Stella's favorite Disney princess. "That is so special, Stelly Belly."

A few feet away, Sarah takes in how close you and Lando were before Stella interrupted and smirks. "Come on, Stella. I think I saw a cookie decorating contest starting over by the wands!"

You stand, eyeing your best friend. "I can take her, Sarah. I'm sure you want to mingle."

"Nope! Stay. Talk. Be merry!" Sarah's eyes bounce between you and Lando and your cheeks heat at the implication.

Beside you, Lando rubs at his jaw trying to process the information he's just learned. Momma? This girl, cute as a button, was calling you mom? He rifles through his memory, trying to think of any time you'd ever mentioned being a mom and he can't come up with a single thing. And he's pretty sure he remembers everything you've ever said to him.

"You have a daughter." Lando says it more as a statement than a question and you wince.

This was always the part where you tended to lose people. Being as young as you were, you were used to people being put off by the fact that you had a daughter. A lot of people your age weren't ready for kids yet and had a hard time figuring you out because you had such radically different priorities. Neither set of priorities was better than the other, just different.

"I do. Her name is Stella." You respond, leaning against the pillar once again. The cool marble sends shivers down your back as you prepare to lose someone who had made more of an impact on you than you realized.

"You never said anything about her." He observes, his tone unreadable.

"You never asked." You shrug, trying not to get defensive. "Her pictures are all over my office, Lan. I've never hid the fact that I have Stella."

Lando thinks back, recalling the office he's spent so much time in lately. You're right, of course. There are bits of Stella all over the place in the drawings on your desk to the school picture that sits near the spider plant close to the window. But somehow Lando had never noticed anything else other than you.

He rubs at the back of his neck, "I guess I just assumed she was your niece or something."

"Nope. She's all mine."

"And her dad?" The moment the question slips from Lando's mouth, he regrets it. His eyes shutter closed but not before he catches a glimpse of the way you flinch.

He hates himself for thinking he deserves to be privy to this information. For being so bold as to ask for the sordid details of your life when all you are to each other is a casual work flirtation. He hates himself for implying that you'd ever flirt with him when there was someone else in the picture. Or worse, that you now have to relive a painful story behind why there wasn't.

"You don't have to answer that." God, he was so good at speaking before thinking, wasn't he? It had gotten him into so much hot water with the press this year during the championship run and here he was again, putting his foot in his mouth like an idiot.

"It's fine." You sigh, knowing that anyone who wants to be in your life is going to have to hear the story at some point. You just hadn't anticipated it happening with Lando, having been perfectly content with the safety of your innocent work flirtation.

"I had Stella when I was 19, her dad was killed in a car accident when she was eight months old. She turned six in September.”

The silence that stretches between you is heavy, clashing with the light and festive mood that swirls around you.

"Christ. I'm sorry, love."

You hate how painful that tugging sensation on your heart is when Lando calls you 'love'.

Shrugging, you hope you feign nonchalance well enough to fool him. You know it doesn’t.

“Listen, I should go check on Sarah and Stella, make sure Stella doesn't sweet talk Sarah into a puppy or something. Those two together is how I ended up with a kitten last year."

The brightness in your voice is all for show but Lando sees right through it.

You're gone before he can get a word in though.

yourusername (private) posted

102 likes liked by BFFsarah, yourdad, yoursister, and others yourusername Quick trip into London for some last minute pressies! yourdad I'm a size Rolex in silver and gold please! >>>yourusername Ha Ha Ha, very funny father BFFsarah Brave brave girl! >>>yourusername brave or stupid, you decide!!!

"Come on, sweet girl, let's find your Papa a Christmas present so we can get out of this mad house."

You tug at Stella's hand, who was currently practically drooling over a display of sparkly gold and diamond jewelry in Harrods jewelry department. Around you, crowds swirl and people jostle each other as they all hustle to pick out their precious gifts before Santa's big night. Why you had chosen to come into London the weekend before Christmas was a mystery, but you were fully convinced that you had lost it when you had agreed to come to Harrods at Stella's request.

"But this necklace is so pretty, Momma!" Stella whines, eyes dragging over the diamond necklace on display in front of her.

"Yes, I know but I don't think your grandpa wants a diamond necklace for Christmas. Let's go up to the fifth floor where the kitchen gadgets are! You know how much he loves to cook!"

Stella rolls her eyes, which you choose to ignore. For all of her attitude today, Stella wasn't usually an ornery child. She was very well behaved and quite reserved so you gave her extra grace when it was crowded and loud like this. You knew she got overstimulated easily, just like you did.

"Fine." She sighs, casting one last longing look at the display. "Maybe Santa will bring me the necklace." She mutters and you have to tamp down a laugh.

You take Stella's hand in yours, despite her giving you another look of contempt. She was much too big of a girl to be holding her mother's hand, thank you very much. You ignored the glare and squeezed at your daughter's hand, knowing that she's not really angry at you.

Up on the fifth floor, the homewares section is significantly quieter than where you just were. Stella spots a display of colorful Kitchen Aid mixers that she scampers over to while you wander over to the espresso machines while reminding her to stick close. Out of the corner of your eye, you keep watch over her while debating the merits of different coffee machines.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite McLaren employee out in the wild." A velvety smooth voice sends familiar shivers down your spine.

"Favorite? You've been avoiding me since the holiday party." You quip without taking your eyes off the silver machine in front of you, knowing exactly who it is beside you without even looking.

Ever since the holiday party nearly two weeks ago, you hand't seen Lando at all despite knowing that he was at the MTC at least a few days. You hated that you knew that most of that time he had been out of the country, skiing in France then golfing in Spain. You also hated that you kept track of the amount of times you had known he was in Woking at the MTC and hadn't even bothered to stop in and say 'hi' to you.

Lando's hand rubs at the back of his neck. "I know. I'm sorry." His voice is low, tinged with guilt.

"Listen, it's fine." You turn to face him for the first time and your traitorous heart thuds a little harder in your chest. That mullet you teased him about so much at first had really grown on you and boy did it look good today.

"It's not like we're friends, Lando." You don't work as hard as you probably should to keep the frustration out of your voice. "You don't owe me anything and it's the off season for you. I shouldn't have said anything."

Lando frowns at you, confusion knitting his brow together. "We...we aren’t friends?" The hurt in his voice was unmistakable, tugging painfully at something in the pit of your stomach.

Your eyes shutter close at the look on his face. Lando might play the lovable goofball for the public and in the press but you knew better. You knew that he was a pretty big softie at heart and you immediately regretted your words, knowing that they would have struck him deep.

"What was I supposed to think, Lan? You seemed pretty put off when you found out about Stella and then you just..." You pause, unsure of where this anger was coming from. You hadn't really realized how hurt you had bene by his sudden ghosting until this very moment. "You just sort of disappeared. It's fine. I'm totally used to it."

The vulnerability in your voice makes Lando's heart clench painfully. He had been spooked initially about you having a daughter and he knew his reaction probably left a lot to be desired. He just had been so blindsided by the appearance of your little girl that night that he hadn't handled it well. Lando had been unwilling to admit before that night during the holiday party that he had been becoming more and more attached to you and he didn't know where Stella fell into place between you and him. It scared him, adding an entirely new layer to the budding friendship that you two had struck up. A friendship that he had been wanting to see if it could have progressed into more but now...now he didn't know.

"Momma, can we get Papa a mixer so he can make me more cakes next year?" Stella's small voice interrupts that awkward silence that had fallen between you and Lando.

You can't help the chuckle that leaves your lips despite yourself. "Stella, I don't think that's a very good reason to gift someone something."

"I don't know, sounds like solid reasoning to me." Lando chimes in, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looks down at Stella. "Hi, I'm Lando." He crouches down so he's eye level with your daughter.

"That's a funny name." Stella regards Lando with a suspicious look. Stella is a quiet little mouse of a child most of the time and doesn't easily trust adults. There are very few people she's comfortable which is why her comment catches you off guard.

"Stella!" You scold, face going crimson at the lack of filter on her.

To your relief, Lando just chuckles. "I guess you're right, it is kind of a funny name. But I think Stella is a funny name too."

Stella' narrows her eyes but then she seems to realize he's just teasing her and she smiles. "I like you." She declares simply, as if deciding to be Lando's friend is the easiest thing in the world.

A fact that you already know is true.

"I'm hungry. Can we go get dinner now?" Stella turns back to you now and you startle a bit when you realize what time it is.

"Let me take you two to dinner. There's a place down the street that has some of the best chicken nuggets in all of England." Lando's offer throws you off for a moment you're so surprised. "As an apology for making you question our friendship."

Stella gasps as if that is the most exciting suggestion she's ever heard in her life. Your stomach does a quick swoop at spending more time with the driver outside of the office. You are a bit hesitant, pride still stinging from when he ignored you after the holiday party, but Stella looks so excited you find yourself nodding.

Twenty minutes and one espresso machine later, you have the giant package shipped off to your house before walking towards a cozy pub that Lando suggests. It's strange to you, walking down the crowded streets with Stella tucked between you and Lando, listening to her prattle away. Once in a while, Lando shoots you a look over the top of your daughter's head that is all amusement and happiness.

Meanwhile, you're reduced to silence, listening in awe to Stella's babbling. She has always been a reserved little girl, following in her mother's footsteps of being an introvert. She doesn't open up to just anyone and even when she does find an adult she likes, it takes her quite a bit of time to talk to them the way she's talking to Lando as he navigates the three of you towards your destination.

Around you, people bustle up and down the sidewalk, the streets of London an absolute hive of activity and it's a bit overwhelming. You're momentarily worried about Stella, knowing she doesn't do very good in crowds just like you but then something catches your eye that has your heart leaping into your throat. Captured in Lando's large hand is Stella's tiny one, a silent gesture of affection from your six-year-old. The way your chest squeezes at the sight has tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

Lando catches the look on your face, full of awe and something else he can't quite place, and when your gaze snags on his moments later he gives you a dazzling smile. When Stella had reached out to take Lando's hand a few blocks ago, he had panicked a bit. He wasn't too experienced with kids, his niece’s being much younger than Stella, but he felt something deep in his chest that told him when the little girl beside him reached for his hand, it was a sincere sign of trust from her.

"Here we are." Lando says once you're safely across the road. "I hope you're ready for the best chicken nuggets in all of London."

Dinner is a loud affair, Stella peppering questions left and right to Lando and Lando expertly fielding them. He even gets some questions in edgewise and has both you and Stella laughing the entire meal. It's the most relaxed Lando's seen you the entire time he's known you. Despite his initial reservations at spending time with someone who has a child, he finds himself not wanting the evening to end. He's never been so thankful for last minute gift requests in his entire life.

Your bellies are full when you spill out onto the sidewalk, the chilly London air biting at your cheeks. It was going to be a cold train ride home. You reach into your tote bag to pull out a scarf and hat, tugging both on Stella despite her yowls of displeasure.

"Stella." You sigh, finally getting her to leave her hat on her head after a tense few moments as Lando watched on, smile sitting at the edge of his lips. "Come on, it's cold tonight and you know the train isn't much better."

"Train?" Lando asks, frown appearing on his face.

"We took the train into the city today. Someone wanted an adventure." You look pointedly at your daughter, who just shrugs, totally unfazed by the chilly evening air.

"That's like, a forty-five minute trip! On the train? At night? Alone?"

Something twists in Lando's stomach at the thought of you and Stella all alone on the train at night. He knows the trains are, objectively, safe and you'd probably be fine but it just doesn't sit right with him knowing that he'd have to leave both of you at a train station unable to be with you in case something happened.

"I know." You breathe, knowing that the moment Stella sits down on the train she's going to be out like a light and you're going to have a very grumpy six-year-old on your hands on the other end of the line. "I don't have a choice, I'm not ordering an Uber home. It'll be fine, Lando. We do this all the time."

The thought of you navigating the crowded train alone with the tiny wisp of a girl that tucked her hand back into his as soon as she got close enough to him hurts a surprising amount. It's a jarring feeling, one that he's totally unprepared for. His memory darts back to the night he found out you had a daughter. He thought for sure the budding chemistry between you would fizzle out. He had thought that he wasn't interested in getting involved with someone who had a child because it complicated things to a degree he wasn't sure he was ready for. He still struggled with looking after himself successfully sometimes. Dating someone with a child? Up until this very moment, Lando thought that was completely off the table.

"You're not taking the train home. I'll drive you." Lando's voice has an edge of finality in it that tells you this is going to be a fight, one that you're not sure you're prepared to fight.

You blink up at him, unable to form a response for several moments. Beside you, Stella cheers. "Yes! No boring train!"

"Woah, slow down." You warn, shaking your head. "Lando, I appreciate the offer but we can't." Stella looks absolutely crestfallen next to you as she yanks her hand out of Lando's grasp and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Why not?" Lando's frown mirrors Stella's and you nearly laugh.

Beside the fact that he couldn't stand the thought of you on the train by yourself with Stella this late at night, Lando didn't really want the night to end. He had sat across from you at dinner and there were several moments while Stella chattered on that he caught your gaze and you had given him the most prettiest smile he'd ever seen.

"Well, for one, Stella needs a booster seat to ride in a car and I don't think those come standard in Ferrari's or McLaren's."

"For the record, I drove my Range Rover into the city." Lando retorts before glancing around the crowded city street. "Look! There's a Mamas & Papas across the street! That's where my brother got my niece’s carseat a few months ago. I'm sure they sell booster seats too."

You can't help but stare at Lando, a bit dumbfounded. When you had started getting to know the driver months ago, you had what you had thought was a pretty accurate idea of who he was off the track: young, sinfully good looking, deeply unserious, and only interested in partying and having a good time. But voluntarily spending an evening with you and your daughter? Offering to buy Stella a booster so he could drive you home? The way Lando surprised you in that moment had you swaying on your feet a bit.

"Can we, Momma? Please! I want to drive home with Lando!"

There are two sets of big puppy dog eyes turned on you and you find yourself tossing your hands up in the air in defeat. "That's not fair! You two can't team up against me!"

Lando looks down at Stella, mischievous grin overtaking his handsome face. "I think we won, Stelly Belly." He shout-whispers, eyes sliding over to you, giving you a wink.

"You two are going to be trouble together, aren't you?" Is the last thing you say before Lando grabs your hand and drags you towards the shop to buy your daughter a booster seat.

Tag List: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland @chlmtfilms @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @eloriis @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @bibissparkles @llando4norris @chelseyyouraverageluigi @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso

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[clovermoters]

flights and family - lando norris x wife!reader

summary - after an eventful first half of the season, a trip home is just what you and your family need to reset

warnings - nothing! some mentions of lando being overwhelmed due to the 2024 season, but other than that just fluff & kisses

authors note - haiii heres a josie fic i wrote while i was on a plane a couple months ago, i hope u enjoy <33 im trying to get back into the swing of writing so gimme reqs and ill try and get to them as quick as possible!! lots of love, clove!

apart of the josephine elliot norris chronicals

“babe wake up..” kisses flutter across your face, pulling you out of your peaceful sleep. you open your eyes to see your husband's emerald eyes overtop of you. 

“we gots’ to go! its airport time in t-minus 1 hour“ he whispers, lightly pinching your bicep to spark your body awake. 

“uuuggh what time is it?” you groan, rolling over to grab your phone, 3:46am. your flight boards at 6. You fall back into the duvet, eyes slowly closing as sleep reaches out to pull you under again.

“baby! up! i’ll get josie”  he shouts through whisper, marching around your bedroom in his baby blue sweatpants and matching hoodie. You giggle, throwing the covers over, finally getting out of bed. 

lando speeds down the hall towards your daughter's room, he creaks the door open into the room. dimly lit from the flower nightlight hung on the wall next to the pretty pink letters spelling josephine above the small pink race car bed. his daughter, a recent graduate to the race car bed, was curled up under her blankets sleeping softly. 

lando lifts his daughter into his arms, the 3 year old stirring slightly, whining at the disturbance of her slumber. 

“it’s just daddy,” he shushes, pushing the curls out of her face so he can see his own eyes looking back at him “you ready for the plane baby?” rolling the bright pink suitcase down to the front door where yours and his await along with your carry ons. The quiet babbles of your daughter chatting with him about her dream fill the quiet of the early morning. 

monaco was rarely quiet, the city almost never sleeps. the peaceful blanket of calm reassurance, lando was sure today would go smoothly. 

you just needed to be ready on time. 

he loved you, his wife, the love of his life, mother of his child, number one supporter. 

but my god your punctuality needed some work. 

Just as if you heard his thoughts, you came bustling down the stairs with your bag in hand, sporting your light grey aritzia sweatsuit that Lando bought you as an early anniversary present. 

“okay, i’m ready” you huff, blowing your hair that fell in front of your eyes. lando chuckles at your disheveled-ness while your daughter rests her head on his shoulder, quickly falling back to sleep. 

you melt at the sight, smiling softly “she’ll be okay right?” you ask, it was josie’s first time flying, your husband rubbing her back before nodding 

“Of course she well, she's so zonked she won't even realize we're in the air-” you chuckle “and I booked a jet. we couldn’t be more safe.” he assures you while handing you some suitcases to take to the uber that’s arriving downstairs. 

“as long as we get to the airport on time” he jokes, giving your bum a light pat while you lock the door. You scoff at him playfully, even after being married for four years and having a child, Lando still has his ways to make you giggle like a teenager.  

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

making it through the airport was quick, josie had fallen asleep on lando in the car. Making the check in easy when you didn’t have a 3 year old asking every question imaginable. you and lando loved her imagination and curiosity, taking it as a small parenting win when you had the time and energy to answer those questions. 

4:45am, however, is not the time to answer those questions 

security was quiet, perks of flying early and in the middle of the week. the attendants recognized your little family letting you through the fast lane just for some entertainment, in the mist of the night. 

the sun was just making its appearance over the horizon when you took off. Josie was curled up in landos lap, completely passed out. 

“I can't wait to be home in London,” you say softly as you rest your head on your husband's shoulder, your gaze fixed on your little bundle of love whos sleeping in his lap  

Lando hums, eyes fixed on his daughter who’s been subconsciously squeezing his fingers in her rem. 

“yeah, i can’t wait to see my parents” he adds “i made max pick us up so we can surprise them at breakfast” 

one week ago, you and your husband made an impromptu decision to drop everything and take a trip home. You both have been overly stressed and it was taking a toll on the two of you. Lando has been at the fighting front of the championship for months while you have been juggling being a first time mother and handling your own responsibilities at work. 

it all came to a breaking point when lando had broken down after coming home from a tough race weekend. frustrated with the results, the pressure and overall the backlash from outsiders, had him sobbing in your arms the minute he walked through the door. soon after you both came to the realization that you needed some well deserved rest and relaxation during the summer break.  

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“ahh they’re they are!” Max shouts from the car when he spots you two, earning a glare from you, pointing to the girl still sleeping soundly in landos arms. 

“Whoops, sorry!” He sucks in a breath through his teeth. helping you load the bags into the boot while Lando secures Josie in her car seat. You always thought fatherhood was so beautiful on him, you fall in love with him all over again seeing the way he was with josie. only proving to you that this was something he was meant to do. 

The London streets were still quiet, the faded radio music providing a background as you and Lando chatted with Max, catching up while he navigated through the city towards landos childhood home. 

When you arrived, you took Josie in your arms trying to wake her so she could greet her grandparents properly. 

the girl stirred in your arms, mumbling incoherent words into your neck and lando giggling from behind you, watching the girl wake. you always loved watching him with josie, the man adored his daughter. from the moment she was born she had him wrapping around her finger the very second he saw his own eyes staring back at him. 

“hi baby girl wanna go say hi to nana and pop?” he asked, that perked Josie up. The toddler always got excited at the mention of her grandparents. 

“ya i’m gonna giv’ them a biiig hug” she mumbled still half asleep, lifting her head from your shoulder while showing a toothy smile to her father. You and your husband break out into a fit of giggles.  

The sweet smell of eggs, bacon and delicious pastries engulfed the inside of the Norris family home. you and lando feel yourself physically relax at the thought of ciscas home cooked brunch. 

soft music came from the kitchen as the distant voices of landos family traveled throughout the home. Providing a lighthouse to the kitchen, the light at the end of a tunnel that you and lando so desperately were waiting for. 

you place josie down, allowing her to walk ahead of you and lando, the girl running into the kitchen, turning to see the girl, cisca halts her movements, gasping at her granddaughter, who she knew lived in monaco. 

“well what are you doing here missy?” the woman asks, alerting the rest of the Norris family of their unexpected guest. you and lando take that as the signal to turn the corner, smiling ear to ear with your hands interlocked, the shocked faces of the norris family say enough that your surprise was a success 

“surprise!”

The room erupted into cheers from the Norris family, moving to give you all hugs. Josie giggling as her grandma picks her up, attacking her cheeks with kisses. 

You greet landos sisters and parents, squeezing your sister in-laws while Lando hugs his brother and his wife. 

“what brings your three here?” landos father, adam asks while giving his son a hug, flo begins setting three extra place mats on the dining table for you as josie is in a very in depth conversation with her grandma. 

“monaco was getting too much so we wanted to spend some time home before the break ends..” lando explained, simply. pressing a kiss to your temple before moving to hug his mum, you watch as he melts slightly into the embrace, tucking his head inside her neck the same way he does with you. 

Cisca places a kiss on your check when she hugs you “you go settle in upstairs, breakfast will be ready soon, you must be exhausted” 

You both sink into the mattress, letting out a sigh of relief. 

“I am so happy we came,” Lando breathes, rolling over to look at you with that loving smile on his face that gives you butterflies, the morning sun hitting his face just perfectly, casting a gentle glow over his gorgeous features. You smile softly up at him reaching out gently to scratch the light stubble he's grown. 

“I'm so happy we came too my love” 

He lightly pecks your lips before the door bursts open, in walks Josie with Mila hot on her heels. The two cousins hopping on the bed before josie lightly jumps on her fathers stomach, causing lando to let out a quiet “oomf-”

“Nana told us to come get you because brekkie is ready!” Mila said before hopping off the bed and running out the room, Josie tries to wiggle out of landos arms but he squeezes her tighter, placing kisses all over her face. The girl giggling at her father 

“Oh no you don't missy!” he says

 “dada let me go!” she shouts through a string of giggles and squeals. 

You three make your way downstairs, joining your family at the table. The conversation flows effortlessly as you fill your tummy with ciscas delicious spread of food. You and Lando make eye contact from the opposite sides of josie who sat between you two, landos eyes were filled with nothing but love as you smiled softly back at the love of your life, a silent agreement that this trip was just what your family needed. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

all doneee thank u so much for reading!!

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter One

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren't quirks, they're survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, strong language.

Notes — Welcome to the Radio Silence universe! This chapter is mainly devoted to introducing Amelia as a character, but does have a bit of Lando in it too! Hope you love it.

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! - Peach x

2018

Amelia Brown stared at the new plaque on her dad’s office door.

Zak Brown, CEO of McLaren Racing.

She hated it.

Not because she wasn’t proud of him. Of course she was — her dad was brilliant, and he’d worked for years to get that title. It made sense. It was logical.

But the words looked wrong. Off-balance. Too sharp.

The old plaque had been there for years. Zak Brown, Executive Director of McLaren Technology Group. She knew the exact spacing of the letters, the way the light hit the brushed metal in the afternoon. She’d memorised it without meaning to. It had become part of the hallway, part of the routine. Safe.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, fingers twitching at her sides.

It wasn’t just a new title. It was everything. 

The MTC felt different now. The air had a new kind of buzz to it — louder, sharper. People looked at her differently, talked to her like she was someone else entirely. Like being the CEO’s daughter had changed her, too.

The rules had changed, and no one had told her what the new ones were.

— 

Her father had been a Formula One fan for as long as she could remember.

V10 engines were her lullaby as a baby; the high-pitched scream of them a strange kind of comfort. Over time, the sound had settled into her nervous system, familiar and grounding.

By the time she was eight, she couldn’t fall asleep without it. Old races playing softly on the TV, the steady rhythm of the commentators’ voices, the roar of the engines, the tension winding through each lap. 

One night, when she was ten, the power had gone out during a storm. No TV. No white noise. Just silence and the wind scraping at the windows. 

She’d curled up in her bed, fists pressed tight against her ears, trying not to cry. 

Then came footsteps in the hallway. Steady. Familiar.

Her dad’s voice followed, soft but certain. “Hey, kiddo. Got something for you.”

He stepped into her room with a dusty old laptop under one arm and a tangle of wires in the other. 

Ten minutes later, her princess-themed bedroom was filled with the warm flicker of a grainy screen. The 2005 Japanese Grand Prix. One of her favourites.

She knew the race by heart. Raikkonen’s last-lap pass on Fisichella, the way Alonso danced through the field like he could see gaps before they even opened. She mouthed the commentators’ lines without realising, her breathing slowly syncing with the rhythm of the engine notes.

Her dad didn’t say anything. He just sat on the floor beside her bed, legs stretched out, back against the wall, holding the laptop steady for her to see.

Eight years later, Amelia thought about that night a lot. 

She wasn’t stupid. She knew what Formula One had meant to her dad before she was even born. But somewhere along the line, it had become more than just his dream. It had become theirs.

For Amelia, it wasn’t just a sport. It was everything.

Formula One was her special interest; the thing that clicked in her brain in a way nothing else ever had. The stats, the strategy, the evolution of car design, the sound of a perfectly timed downshift… it all made sense when so much of the world didn’t. 

It gave her a framework, a rhythm, a language that felt natural.

While other kids played games she didn’t understand, she memorised engine configurations. While teachers scolded her for “zoning out,” she was mentally replaying the 2002 Brazilian Grand Prix, lap by lap.

She could list every World Champion from 1950 onward before she could properly tie her shoes. At recess, when the others were pretending to be superheroes or princesses, she was mapping out imaginary circuits in the dirt with a stick, narrating races in her head with full commentary — down to the tire strategies and pit stop windows.

She tried sharing her passion with her peers, once.

In third grade, she’d brought a die-cast model of a 1998 McLaren MP4/13 to class for sharing time. She’d practised what she was going to say all night, rehearsed the facts in front of the mirror until the words felt smooth. Recited the specs; V10 engine, Adrian Newey’s aerodynamic innovations, Mika Häkkinen’s championship run, over and over.

But when she stood in front of the class, the words tumbled out too fast, too detailed, too much. She was halfway through explaining the brake-steer controversy when a boy in the front row yawned so loudly it echoed, and someone in the back let out a snort-laugh that made her ears burn.

After that, she stopped trying.

Except with her dad.

With him, she never had to translate. She could go on about tire compounds or telemetry data or how ridiculous it was that certain drivers still didn’t know how to defend a corner, and he never told her to slow down or “talk normal.” He just nodded, asked questions, matched her pace.

They didn’t need eye contact or hugs or long emotional talks. They had race weekends. They had side-by-side silence on the couch, watching onboards and live timing feeds. They had post-race debriefs at the kitchen table over scrambled eggs, like it was the most natural thing in the world for an eight-year-old to have such strong opinions about power unit reliability.

It was how they communicated. Racing was their shared language.

Her mom didn’t get it; not really. The noise overwhelmed her. The rules confused her. She once referred to Sebastian Vettel as “the one with the baby face and the weird flag thing,” and Amelia had almost burst into flames on the spot.

But she tried.

She printed out colouring sheets of cars when Amelia was little, even though she could already draw them from memory. She learned to set the TV volume just right; high enough for Amelia to hear the engines clearly, low enough not to overwhelm her. She made snacks on race days and never once complained when qualifying ran late into the night.

Her mom didn’t understand the obsession. But she understood Amelia. 

— 

Amelia walked into her dad’s office and froze, staring at the shelf lined with trophies, framed photos, and mementos from his years in motorsport. It had been that way for months now, ever since he’d taken the CEO position at McLaren, and every time she had to look at it, her ears burned.

Because the items on the shelf were never in the right order.

The memorabilia was all haphazardly placed; drivers she didn’t like sitting too close to ones she admired. There were racing helmets, but the scale didn’t make sense; one was huge, another tiny, a third just slightly off-centre. 

There were photos, too, of her dad with the team, with Fernando Alonso, with the McLaren execs, but none of them were lined up properly.

The shelf, she thought, should be perfect. But it wasn’t.

Reaching up, she slid the first photo frame to the right, just enough to make it parallel with the others. Then the helmet, she shifted it slightly, aligning it with the edge of the shelf. 

One by one, she adjusted the frames, the objects, the odd little pieces of her dad’s world that had once felt like a steady part of her life.

She wasn’t sure why it was bothering her so much today. Maybe it was the way everything felt out of sync. 

When she reached the second shelf, she noticed a small figure of a car. A McLaren MP4/4. Her dad had given it to her when she was younger, one of the few gifts he’d ever picked out himself. She ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the model before she set it down exactly in the middle of the shelf, just below the first row of photos.

For a very brief moment, it was perfect.

Just a small fix. A temporary escape from the feeling that everything else was slipping out of her grasp.

“Wow. Looks much better.”

Amelia tensed at the sound of her dad’s voice from the doorway.

She hadn’t heard him come in. For a moment, she considered turning on her heel and leaving the room, pretending she hadn’t touched anything. But her dad was already smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He didn’t look upset. He never did; that was the problem. She could never tell how he was really feeling because his face always stayed the same. It was like his expressions were stuck, and no matter how hard she tried to figure it out, she couldn’t read him. It made it hard to know if he was happy, worried, or anything at all. Everything just felt... flat.

“You know,” he continued, stepping further into the room, his hands in his pockets, “I’ve never been great at this stuff. Never really noticed how... messy things can get in here. But I guess you’ve got a better eye for it than I do.”

Amelia couldn’t help but feel a small rush of pride.

She nodded quietly, her gaze flicking back to the shelf. There was a strange sense of uncertainty creeping in, though. “Is it still okay, though?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I mean... Does it still... feel like yours?”

Her dad glanced at her, then back at the shelf, his smile fading just a little. “Yeah,” he said after a long beat. “It still feels like me. And it’s you, too, right? Made you feel better to change things up a bit?”

She just stared at him, unsure how to answer that. 

He stepped closer, running a hand through his hair. "I know things feel... different now. I guess I'm still getting used to it, too," he admitted quietly. "But it’s still... McLaren. It's still our world, kiddo."

Amelia’s stomach clenched. She wanted to say more, but the words wouldn’t come. She only nodded, her gaze travelling back to the perfectly aligned shelf.

Her dad placed a hand on her shoulder, his thumb brushing over her skin like a quiet reassurance. She made a small noise of discomfort. He paused, and then tightened his grip. So tight it might make a normal person wince. It just made Amelia let out a relieved breath of air, the pressure good, good, good.

It wasn’t that she hated touch, it was just that it had to be right, had to be just the right amount of force, of contact. Too light, and it felt like nothing at all. Too much, and she’d start to feel overwhelmed, like the weight of the world was pressing in. But this... this was perfect. His hand, firm on her shoulder, grounded her in a way nothing else could.

“Thanks for tidying up,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “I think I might leave it just like this for a while. Feels... good.”

She nodded, the pressure of his hand still there, steady, and it was like she could finally breathe again.

— 

The McLaren pit garages smelled of oil and rubber. The fluorescent lights above hummed faintly, and she could still hear them even through the noise-cancelling headphones on her ears. Amelia moved through the space quietly, sharp eyes scanning the flurry of engineers, tire changers, and data specialists working with practiced urgency. Her hands were clasped behind her back, fingers pressed tight against her palms, and her gaze flicked between the monitors, the car, and the teams as they hustled to prepare the MCL33 for its next session.

Her favourite part was always the data. The telemetry displayed on the screens had a rhythm, a language that felt like it belonged to her more than anyone else. The raw numbers, the graphs, the fine-tuned fluctuations of the car’s performance; it all made perfect sense. She knew what to look for. 

Her feet carried her forward. She found herself standing near Fernando Alonso’s MCL33, just a few feet away. The car was a beautiful mess of carbon fiber, heat shields, and wires, and it was just sat there, like a puzzle waiting to be solved. 

Before the season had even started, Amelia had memorised every part of it, from the aerodynamic tweaks to the engine specs.

One of the engineers noticed her as she lingered, her posture attentive, her expression unreadable beneath the headphones. Everyone knew who she was. Zac’s daughter. A genius, in a multitude of ways. 

He approached cautiously, not wanting to startle her. He’d noticed how her eyes narrowed when too many voices clashed together at once, or how she shrunk when people got just that little bit too close. 

"Hey, Amelia," he said, his voice calm, not wanting to intrude. She turned toward him, her face still slightly blank, but he could tell by the way her eyes focused on his that she had heard him. “You good?” he asked, motioning toward the telemetry screens just behind her.

Amelia nodded, then hesitated. Her hand hovered for a second before she slowly, cautiously pointed at the screen. Her voice, when it came, was quiet, careful. “I... I think the tire pressures on the front left might be a little too high for this circuit. The temperatures are different compared to last year.”

She didn’t look at the engineer as she spoke. Her eyes stayed fixed on the data, like if she focused hard enough, she could disappear into it. She knew she was right, she was almost always right when it came to this, but the memory of past times, of laughter or dismissal, tugged at the edge of her confidence. She didn’t want to make it sound like she thought she knew more than the team. She didn’t even have a degree. 

The engineer just blinked. “I’ll pass it along,” he said, eventually.

Amelia gave a small nod, then quickly turned her focus back to the car, to the numbers flicking past on the monitors. She adjusted her posture slightly, shoulders curling inward, trying to take up less space.

As she focused on the intricate lines of the MCL33, another engineer approached her. He was holding a tablet with a telemetry feed of his own, and without speaking, he offered it to her. Amelia looked at the data for a long moment, her eyes narrowing as she absorbed the figures and readouts. Then, her finger gently traced over the tablet’s screen, pointing to a particularly complex graph of the car’s acceleration over the course of a lap.

“Right there,” she said, her voice soft but clear, though it was a bit muffled by the headphones. "You need to adjust the mapping."

The engineer hummed, impressed but not surprised. “I’ll have the team look into it,” he said, before turning to relay her suggestion to the others.

Her dad was always there, of course, close, watching from a distance, his presence a quiet comfort. But Amelia didn’t need him right now. She just needed the machines, the numbers, and the freedom to study it all. 

The engineers moved around her, respecting her space. Always careful not to brush against her, even though she was technically in their way.

When she finally did look up from the data screens, Fernando had stepped into the garage, just a few feet away, in his racing suit, helmet tucked under one arm. He glanced at her, then at the engineers who were quietly working around her.

He approached with a calm, easy presence that didn’t press too hard, didn’t demand anything. “Ah. How is the car feeling, pollita?” he asked, voice light but kind.

Amelia gave a small nod, gaze trained on the Spanish flag on the neck of his fireproofs. 

Fernando smiled. Then he turned to the engineers, who were already passing along her observations. 

“If she said it,” he said, tone warm and without a trace of doubt, “then yes—keep an eye on the turbo mapping. She is the smart one.”

— 

She walked around the paddock often. The garages were fun —fascinating, even— but it could all very quickly become too much. The noise, the flashing lights, the overlapping voices, the sudden bursts of motion. 

So she’d slip away. Not far. Just enough.

There was always a McLaren staff member trailing after her. Not hovering, not bothering, just keeping a quiet distance. Just far enough to give her the illusion of independence, a false sense of freedom she chose to believe in. She didn’t mind. As long as they didn’t try to talk, or worse, touch, she could almost ignore them entirely.

She wandered with a purpose that only made sense to her, eyes fixed ahead, headphones still on, the rest of the world muted and manageable. She liked it that way. The paddock, in the quiet bubble of her own world, was peaceful.

That’s when she spotted him.

Lewis Hamilton stood just outside the Mercedes hospitality suite, sunglasses perched on his nose. Roscoe was with him, tail wagging lazily, nose in something that probably smelled like food. Amelia stopped walking, blinked a few times, then changed direction. 

Lewis noticed her before she got too close. He smiled, lowering his sunglasses slightly. “Hey, Amelia,” he said, crouching a little as Roscoe trotted forward to sniff her shoes. “Been a while. You good?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she crouched carefully, reaching a hand out to Roscoe but not touching him until the dog pressed his nose into her palm. Only then did she give a tiny nod.

Lewis waited, patient. He was always nice like that. 

“How’s Roscoe?” she asked finally, her voice soft and low. One time, somebody told her that she spoke like she wasn’t sure she had permission to do so. Always quiet. Mumbling, if she could get away with it.  

Lewis just smiled, warmth radiating in that easy way of his. She liked Lewis a lot. “He’s good. Living his best life. Had a spa day last week. He’s spoiled.”

Amelia looked at the bulldog again, and her tight jaw felt softer. “Good.”

There was a pause. She didn’t move, didn’t say much, but she didn’t walk away either.

“You ever want to walk him sometime, just ask,” Lewis offered, still crouched. 

Amelia looked up, eyes wide, the corners of her mouth twitching in what might have been the start of a smile. She gave a small nod. 

Then she stood, gave Roscoe one last pat, and turned to leave.

The McLaren staffer fell into step a few paces behind her, still pretending not to be watching too closely.

Amelia looked down at her hand. Grimaced.

Her chest tightened. The feeling started crawling up her skin.

“I need sanitiser,” she said, voice rushed and clipped, a little too loud, a little too sharp. Her hands hovered awkwardly in front of her like she didn’t want to touch anything, even herself.

The staffer blinked once, then immediately fished a small bottle from his pocket and offered it to her without a word.

Amelia snatched it quickly, not too fast, not rude, she told herself, and squeezed a dollop into her palm. She rubbed it in with fast, focused movements. Between every finger. Around every nail. Up her wrists. Twice.

Only when the last of it had dried, leaving that slightly tacky residue behind, did her shoulders drop. The tension in her jaw loosened. The hum in her head began to fade.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes. She turned back toward the paddock walkway, pressing her clean hands flat against the sides of her jeans, grounding herself in the texture.

— 

The MTC’s glass corridors were quiet, filled with the soft echo of Amelia’s footsteps. She liked walking here early in the mornings, before the building filled with noise and movement. The lines were clean, the light was even, and everything had its place.

She turned a corner and nearly collided with someone moving fast; backwards, clumsily trying to zip up his hoodie while juggling an apple and his phone.

Lando Norris. FIA Formula 2 championship runner-up, member of the McLaren Young Driver Programme, widely considered one of the brightest rising stars in motorsport. She knew all of this about him.

He skidded to a stop when he saw her, eyes widening slightly. “Oh, hey. Sorry. Didn’t see you.”

Amelia stared at him for a beat, saying nothing. 

“You’re late,” she said plainly.

Lando blinked, then gave a sheepish grin. “Yeah. Kinda running behind this morning. Slept through my alarm. Happens sometimes.”

She tilted her head, studying him like he was part of a data set, eyes narrowed into thin slits. “You’ll never get promoted if you’re always late.”

The words came out blunt, matter-of-fact. She wasn’t trying to be rude, just honest. Patterns mattered. Timings mattered. Discipline mattered. Racing was full of rules, and being late was not acceptable. 

Lando laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh. Uh—do you really think I won’t get promoted?”

Amelia didn’t answer right away. She studied him, eyes narrowing slightly, not in judgment but in analysis. She was already calculating, recalling his lap times, consistency, tyre management, race-craft under pressure. She’d watched his F2 season. Not just watched; studied it. He was aggressive under braking, a little rough on tyres mid-stint, but his spatial awareness was excellent, and his adaptability in changing conditions put him in the top percentile. 

He was a good fit for McLaren, in her opinion. 

“Are you fast?” She asked him, despite already knowing the answer. 

Lando blinked. Let out a short, awkward laugh. “Yeah. I mean, I think so.”

She nodded once, satisfied. “Then you’ll be fine.”

With that, she turned and walked away, her stride quick and purposeful, the conversation already filed away in her mind, concluded.

Lando stood there for a second, caught off guard. Smart. Intense. Kind of pretty, too. But brutal. “Right,” he muttered to himself, watching her go. “Cool. Fast. Got it.”

— 

Amelia sat cross-legged on her bed in her family home in England, the room quiet except for the electrical hum of her phone charger. Her mom was downstairs, making chilli for dinner, and her dad was still at the office. 

She was scrolling through Twitter, quietly, methodically, as she did most evenings. She didn’t get involved much. A few retweets here and there. Articles, stats, insights. She had a good number of followers, mostly people who’d seen her on race broadcasts or encountered her race-day tweets.

But then, her thumb hovered. Lando Norris had tweeted earlier that day. She followed him, of course. She followed every McLaren adjacent account. 

She clicked on his profile.

She knew him. Had obviously studied his race-craft.

She scrolled through his timeline, her eyes tracking his tweets one by one.

"Is it just me or does everyone have a friend who thinks they know how to cook but really just know how to burn toast? 😂"

Amelia blinked. She didn’t get it. Was that supposed to be funny? She wasn’t sure that incompetence was amusing.

She continued scrolling, her eyes scanning through the odd mix of jokes, memes, and race-day updates. None of it made any sense. She was used to tweets that were precise, purposeful — like her own. Her posts were methodical, always carefully planned, always factual. Data, analysis, insights. It was how she communicated with the world.

Another tweet.

“Just watched a documentary on the moon landing. Now I’m convinced I could be an astronaut. 😂”

Amelia frowned. There was no mention of racing, no insights into strategy, no talk of lap times or tire degradation. Just... this. She scrolled past it quickly, her thumb moving with a steady rhythm as she returned to her own timeline, where everything was neatly laid out, logical, and to the point.

Maybe she should talk to Lando about using his social media more usefully. After all, he already had such a large following. He could share insights, data, something valuable for his fans. He was a professional driver, for goodness' sake. It could be a way to connect with people, educate them, make them appreciate the intricacies of racing in the same way that she did.

She bit her lip, feeling a small knot form in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if she could just tell him to change. That would be... strange. Maybe even rude.

Two hours later, Amelia sat at the dinner table, poking at her food absentmindedly. Her mom was talking about her day at work, but Amelia wasn’t really listening. 

Her dad, always quick to pick up on when something wasn’t right, glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on in that head of yours, kiddo?”

Amelia hesitated for a moment, rolling the words around in her mouth. She wasn’t sure why it was bothering her so much, but the thought of Lando’s Twitter kept circling in her mind, unresolved. “Lando Norris is a terrible tweeter. He needs a social media manager.”

Her dad stared at her for a beat, then burst out laughing. “Ah, that’s just Lando! Fans love him for it. He’s... unpredictable, keeps everyone guessing. People follow him because they like seeing the real him. Jokes and all.”

Amelia didn’t find anything about this situation funny. 

She fiddled with her food, the tension in her chest tightening. Why did nobody seem as concerned about this as she was?

Lando was good. A good racer. A worthy driver. 

Late. He was always late. He could fix that, though. 

Fix, fix, fix.

She clenched her hands in her lap, staring at her plate, her thoughts spinning.

Her mom set her fork down, leaning forward slightly. “Amelia, is it really bothering you, honey?”

Amelia’s gaze snapped up, her eyes wide. “Yes! I don’t understand it. He could be doing so much more—he’s just... joking around all the time. He never posts about his telemetry or his tests. It’s such a waste!”

Her mom nodded patiently. “That’s what you would post about?” she asked, her tone gentle.

Amelia nodded, feeling her thoughts settle into place. “Yes. It’s all there, the numbers, the data. It shows his skills. It’s... more useful.”

Her dad hummed thoughtfully. “I could have a chat with him. Tell him to post more of his racing stats. They are impressive. But I won’t tell him to stop being himself. That’s working well for his image.”

Amelia wrung her hands together under the table, taking small, even breaths. It helped calm her, but the unease was still there.

“I think…” she started, her voice softer now, the edges of her frustration ebbing away. “He is a good racer.”

Her dad smiled at her, a little amused. “You care about his success, huh? Well, that’s sweet.”

Amelia nodded. Then she frowned. Sweet? Why was that sweet? She cared about the success of all the drivers in her dad’s team… not just Lando.

Her mom reached across the table and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re not the only one who wants him to do well, honey. But maybe let him be him. It’s working for him in his own way, even if it’s not how you’d do it.”

Amelia hummed thoughtfully, picking up her fork. She liked chilli. It was comforting. Simple. Consistent. 

She missed the look her parents shared — half concerned, half understanding. 

— 

Fernando would leave Formula One at the end of the 2018 season.

Amelia didn’t know how to feel about it, or if she should feel anything at all. The news came as a whisper first; just a passing comment she overheard in the MTC, a conversation between her dad and one of the engineers. At first, it didn’t seem real. Fernando had been a fixture of the sport for as long as she could remember. The idea of Formula One without him felt... wrong. He wasn’t just another driver; he was Fernando.

And then, one afternoon, her dad sat her down in his office and confirmed what she had been dreading.

Fernando was leaving.

She found herself pacing around the house, her mind spiralling as she thought about the future of F1 without him in it.

He’d always been so nice to her, letting her into his garage whenever she wanted, no questions asked. There was never any judgment in his eyes when she stared at data screens for hours or rambled on about telemetry. He just... let her be.

He had understood her in a way few people ever did.

She would miss him. 

— 

Lando Norris and Carlos Sainz. 2019 McLaren Driver Line-up.

She’d expected it. She knew it was coming. Fernando was leaving. So was Stoffel. She’d already processed that. But somehow, seeing it laid out in front of her, seeing it confirmed in black and white, made it feel much more real.

Her dad had sat her down earlier on in the month, his voice soft but steady. He’d said it was a new chapter for McLaren, a step in the right direction.

She put the phone down, the buzzing of it faint in her ears, and stared ahead. The news sat like a heavy weight in her chest. Lando and Carlos. McLaren’s new driver pairing.

— 

iMessage — Lewis Hamilton & Amelia Brown

Amelia Brown

I would like to see a photo of Roscoe. 

Lewis Hamilton

*insert photograph of Roscoe*

You doing okay, kiddo? Lots of changes happening over there at McLaren. 

Amelia Brown

I am fine. 

Lewis Hamilton 

You're always welcome at Mercedes if you need a breather, yeah? 

Toto thinks very highly of you. 

Amelia Brown

Because I am so smart? 

Lewis Hamilton

Exactly. 

— 

Amelia sat in the kitchen, scrolling through Twitter as she sipped her coffee. Her nineteenth birthday had come and gone, quietly, without much fanfare. 

Her gaze drifted across the screen.

Lando had posted something that caught her attention.

"Why do I feel like I need a vacation, but I also can't leave my bed?"

Amelia blinked at the tweet, trying to make sense of it. She tilted her head, her fingers hesitating over the keyboard. She didn’t understand. Was he… hurt? Why couldn’t he leave his bed? He was supposed to be racing a Formula One car in a matter of months.

With a worried sigh, she typed out a simple response to his tweet.

What does this mean? 

She hit send and waited. 

A few minutes later, Lando replied.

It’s just one of those random thoughts. You know, like when you’re too comfortable but you also want to escape, but you don’t really? Classic conundrum lol 

Amelia stared at the reply, processing it slowly. 

She... still didn’t get it. Why would anyone want to leave a comfortable bed just to go somewhere else? 

She frowned at the screen for a moment, her eyes scanning the thread, and then she noticed the replies.

“Lando is so sweet to explain it! 💕” 

“Aw, he’s always so patient with everyone ❤️” 

Amelia’s brows furrowed. Sweet? Patient? She didn’t understand. He was just explaining himself and his terrible analogy. Had nobody else been confused?

She stared at the replies for a moment longer, the confusion deepening. It felt like there was something she was missing.

She felt a small twist of discomfort, the kind she always got when emotions felt too complicated, too layered. 

Amelia clicked away from the thread, unsure what to do with the strange tugging sensation that lingered in her chest.

— 

That night, Amelia sat on the edge of her bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. She glanced over at her mom, who was measuring her bedroom window. Amelia had asked for black-out blinds, now that the days were getting brighter again.

“When my chest gets tight— and I’m thinking about somebody, and then I see other people saying nice things about them... and it gets, um, uncomfortable— what does that mean?”

Her mom paused, turning to face her. “Well. It can be a lot of things, honey. Depends on the person. Maybe you’re feeling protective, or it could be jealousy. Sometimes, we can feel a lot of emotions physically, and they don’t always have to make sense.”

Amelia blinked, feeling something stir inside her that she couldn’t quite name. The word felt almost too big to say. “Jealousy?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her mom nodded, sitting down next to her. “Jealousy isn’t always bad. It’s just a feeling. Doesn’t have to mean anything.” 

Amelia’s mind spun. The word echoed in her head, uncomfortable and unfamiliar. 

Jealousy. 

Something about it seemed to fit.

NEXT CHAPTER

[formulaonecrumbs]

spending my 20’s on you

Lando Norris x university student!reader

summary: lando and reader navigate the ups and downs of being young and in love.

warnings: implied ‘first time’ but not full smut, kissing, sexual tension, angst, fluff, emotional depth, light swearing, not explicit but suggestive, angst with happy ending, mutual pining, some misunderstandings, low-key just a whirlwind of shit.

A/N: this is just multiple scenarios of lando and reader being 20 and in love. (READ) backstory: they’re highschool sweethearts, been dating since they were 17. i forgot to mention it in the fic itself and now idk where to add it so yeah. my brain wouldn’t shut off so this is why this is so long (i think it’s the longest fic i’ve ever written) also i didn’t edit almost any of it, so not much italicising for emphasis, even tho i love doing that. i’m too lazy, writing this took it OUT of me. anyways enjooyyyyyy!!! love u, cuties 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

the dorm room feels warmer than usual when you both stumble in, laughing about something you’ve already forgotten. lando’s arm is around your shoulders, and you’re leaning into him like it’s second nature.

“god, your uni mates are so weird,” he mutters, kicking off his shoes.

you flop onto the edge of your bed, tugging your jacket off. “you’re the one who told that story about getting stuck in your wetsuit.”

“they asked!”

you giggle, flopping back and watching him through blurry eyes.

he looks good. a little flushed. soft curls a bit messy. his hoodie is riding up, and you can see a sliver of skin and the band of his calvin klein underwear when he lifts his arms to stretch.

your stomach flips.

he notices you watching.

“what?”

you shake your head. “nothing.”

but he keeps looking at you.

and you’re still looking at him.

and then… the room goes quiet.

the kind of quiet where your heart feels too loud in your chest.

lando walks over slowly, kneeling in front of where you’re sitting. “can i ask you something?”

you nod.

“how long have we been dancing around this?”

you swallow. “a while.”

he reaches for your hand, his fingers warm. “we don’t have to, you know. not tonight. not ever. not if you’re not sure.”

you are.

you’ve been sure for a while.

so instead of answering, you lean forward and kiss him.

he exhales sharply, like he’s been waiting for that.

it starts slow. nervous. both of you a little unsure, a little buzzed, still giggling in between kisses.

“ow, you elbowed me—”

“your hoodie string is in my mouth—”

but then he pulls away, looking down at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

“are you okay?” he whispers.

you nod. “are you?”

“yeah,” he breathes, smiling a little. “just… really want to do this right.”

“you are,” you say.

and you mean it.

because it’s him.

because it’s always been him.

and it’s not perfect. not even close.

you knock your head on the wall at one point. the bed creaks too much. someone in the hallway yells and makes you both laugh halfway through.

but it’s warm. and slow. and real.

his hands are soft. yours are shaking a little. there’s so much kissing you lose track of time.

“you okay?” he asks again, forehead resting against yours.

“yeah,” you whisper. “don’t stop.”

he doesn’t.

he holds you the entire time.

kisses every inch of your face when it’s over.

you lie there after, tangled in sheets and sweat and silence, just staring at the ceiling and holding hands.

“you’re amazing,” he mumbles sleepily.

you turn your head toward him, nose brushing his.

“lando?”

“yeah?”

“me too.”

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

you wake up before him.

his arm is slung around your waist, his face tucked into your neck, breathing slow and even. there’s a faint sunbeam slipping through the dorm blinds, casting soft light across the mess of clothes on your floor.

you blink slowly, brain still fuzzy. the night flashes through your head in pieces—warm hands, breathless kisses, his voice soft in your ear.

you feel him shift behind you.

a sleepy groan.

then a very tired, very raspy, very adorable:

“‘m i dead?”

you laugh, and he tightens his hold on you, pulling you back against him.

“if you are, this is a really weird afterlife,” you mumble.

he noses at your jaw, half-asleep. “then i’ll stay dead.”

the room is quiet. safe. lando’s fingers trace shapes into your hip lazily, like he’s not even thinking about it. he still smells like you—your shampoo, your dorm, the night you shared.

you turn slightly, and his eyes flutter open.

he smiles. that soft, sleepy smile that melts your insides.

“hi,” he says.

you grin. “hi.”

you’re both quiet for a second. then he says, “so… last night.”

“last night.”

he tilts his head. “was really, really good.”

you nod. “yeah.”

“like. top ten moments of my life.”

you snort. “just ten?”

“i’m leaving room for our wedding,” he says, dead serious.

you shove him, laughing. “you’re such an idiot.”

“your idiot.”

he won’t stop kissing your shoulder.

you won’t stop smiling.

the duvet is halfway off the bed. your legs are tangled together. neither of you make a move to get up.

“hey,” lando whispers.

“what?”

he cups your face gently, thumb brushing your cheek. “you sure you’re okay?”

you nod. “i’m really okay.”

he kisses you again—slow and sweet and so full of love it makes your chest ache.

“cool,” he says. “’cause i was gonna ask to do that again. like. a million more times.”

you roll your eyes. “you’re so romantic.”

“you literally cried after.”

“that was emotional release!”

“you were like—‘oh my god i love you so much.’”

“you mocked me?!”

“i treasured you.”

he pulls you closer, grinning into your skin. “you’re stuck with me now, by the way.”

“i know.”

“good.”

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

lando’s back home. two cities away. two train rides. one entire eternity.

it’s been three days.

three days since he left your dorm. three days since that night. three days since he kissed you like you were the only thing that existed and made you feel like your heart was beating in places you didn’t know hearts could reach.

you’ve talked, obviously. little texts. voice notes. blurry selfies.

but it’s not enough.

it’s so not enough.

your phone buzzes.

lando: you up?

you call him before you can reply.

he picks up after one ring.

“hey,” he says, and he already sounds breathless. like he ran to answer.

you smile, pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders. “hey.”

he groans. “i miss you.”

“i miss you more.”

“no. like. i actually miss you. like i feel sick. you ruined me.”

you laugh softly. “oh, so it’s my fault?”

“you cursed me,” he says, dramatic. “i’ve been sitting in my bed thinking about your stupid mouth for three hours.”

you bury your face in your pillow, already warm all over. “lando.”

“no. don’t ‘lando’ me. you don’t get it. i’m ruined. do you know how annoying it is to go from literally falling asleep next to you to this?”

you sigh. “i know. i hate this.”

“i keep reaching for you in my sleep.”

you go quiet.

he does too.

then, softer: “it’s worse now.”

“i know.”

“because now i know what it’s like. all of it. all of you.”

you swallow. “lando…”

“i miss your skin,” he says quietly. “and your laugh. and how warm your hands are. and the way you look when you’re half-asleep and trying to pretend you’re not.”

your heart is doing flips.

“i miss your back,” he adds, completely serious. “and your knees. and that little freckle on your hip.”

you smile. “you remember that?”

“i kissed it. i remember all of you.”

you’re silent for a second, heart so full you think it might spill out of you.

then you whisper, “i keep replaying it. over and over. in my head. like a movie.”

“same.”

“i can’t sleep in my bed now. it feels weird.”

“mine’s too cold.”

you both sigh at the same time.

“i wish i was there.”

“i wish you were here.”

“i’d hold you so tight.”

“i’d never let you go.”

lando groans again. “you’re so annoying.”

“you called me, idiot.”

“because i missed you.”

“i missed you more.”

“not possible.”

“try me.”

“fine. come here.”

you smile into the phone. “lando.”

“i’m serious. ditch class. run away with me.”

“and go where?”

“don’t care. as long as you’re there.”

the line goes quiet for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. it’s soft. warm. you can hear him breathing. feel your heart slowing down a bit.

then he whispers, “i love you, you know.”

“i know,” you whisper back. “i love you too.”

“good,” he says. “i’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“soon.”

but not soon enough.

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

you don’t even remember what set it off.

maybe a missed text. a call that didn’t come.

maybe it was the way you asked if he could visit next weekend and he didn’t answer right away.

“you always have an excuse,” you say, sitting at the edge of your bed, staring down at your phone. “just admit it, you don’t wanna come.”

lando scoffs on the other end of the line. “what? that’s not true—”

“you hesitated.”

“because i was thinking,” he snaps. “i’ve got training, i’ve got classes—i’m not sitting around doing nothing, you know?”

your chest tightens. “and i don’t have things going on too?”

“that’s not what i meant.”

“no,” you cut in, voice sharp. “you never mean it, right? until i’m the one sitting here crying because you forgot again. because you left me on read. again. because you said you’d try harder and then didn’t.”

“jesus christ,” he mutters. “why do you always do this? why does everything have to be a test?”

you go quiet.

there’s a shift on his side of the line. you can almost hear the regret settle in—but he doesn’t say anything.

you blink back the sudden sting in your eyes. “you know what? maybe it is a test. and maybe you’re failing.”

silence.

then, softly: “maybe i am.”

you don’t even know what you expected. not that. and not the way it feels like everything inside you just broke open.

“i’ll call you later,” he says, voice distant.

“lando—”

but he’s already hung up.

the silence after is unbearable.

you don’t sleep that night. not really. you toss and turn and stare at your phone, willing it to light up. hoping he’d take it back. hoping he’d say something.

but he doesn’t.

and the next morning, you walk through your day in a fog, barely listening, barely speaking. you sit in the campus café with some classmates and sip your coffee like it’ll fix anything. one of the girls leans across the table, curious and nosy.

“so… you and lando still together?”

you nod. “yeah.”

she raises a brow. “long-distance? wow. impressive. i couldn’t do that at our age.”

you laugh softly. it sounds wrong. “why not?”

“i mean…” she shrugs. “we’re twenty. you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. don’t you think it’s a little too serious?”

someone else at the table laughs. “right? people act like twenty-year-olds can’t just… date. without planning their whole future together.”

you freeze a little. smile like it doesn’t hurt. like your chest isn’t already bruised from last night.

“yeah,” you say. “maybe.”

but the words stick. they echo.

too serious. too young. whole life ahead of you.

and you hate that for a second—you wonder if they’re right.

it takes two days.

two full days of silence before lando calls.

it’s late. you’re curled up in bed, scrolling mindlessly, trying to pretend you’re fine.

when your phone lights up, your heart leaps. and then crashes back down again.

but you answer.

his voice is soft. cautious. “hey.”

you say nothing.

he exhales. “i deserved that. i just… i didn’t know how to call you after what i said.”

you stay quiet.

“i shouldn’t have said i was failing. i shouldn’t have hung up. i was pissed, but not at you. i’m sorry.”

you close your eyes. “i didn’t mean what i said either.”

“i know.”

there’s a pause. a heavy one.

“someone said something,” you admit, voice small.

“what?”

“just this girl in class. she said we were too young to be this serious. that we should be living our lives, not tying ourselves down.”

lando doesn’t answer right away.

“it got in my head,” you say, softer now. “and then after what you said… i don’t know. maybe we are too young.”

his voice comes out quiet but steady. “we’re not.”

“how do you know?”

“because i’ve already lived without you,” he says. “and it was fine, but it wasn’t this. it wasn’t us. and if this is what tying myself down looks like, then chain me to the fucking floor.”

you blink, your breath catching.

“i know we’re twenty,” he goes on. “i know everyone thinks we should be partying and flirting and figuring things out. but i have. i figured it out the second i met you.”

you stay silent, too overwhelmed to speak.

“i want to come see you,” he says. “this weekend. i’ll skip training, i’ll take the train, i’ll do whatever. just—please let me come.”

you swallow hard. “okay.”

he lets out a breath. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

another pause. then, softly: “you’re it for me.”

you close your eyes again. but this time, you smile.

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

he shows up saturday afternoon, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, hair a mess from the train, and you nearly knock him over when you throw yourself into his arms.

“missed you,” he mumbles into your neck.

“you better have,” you whisper back.

the first few hours are easy. you fall back into each other like no time has passed—like he never said those things, like you never cried yourself to sleep after.

you drag him to your favorite coffee place, then show him around campus, fingers laced the entire time. he asks about your classes and the annoying girl in your literature seminar. you tease him for getting lost in your dorm hallway.

it’s only when the sun goes down and you’re curled up in bed, limbs tangled, his hoodie hanging off your frame, that the conversation shifts.

“so,” he says quietly, his hand tracing shapes on your hip. “that girl who said we were too young to be serious.”

you groan. “please don’t bring her up.”

“nah, i want to. because… i get it. why it stuck with you.”

you turn to look at him, eyes wide.

he shrugs. “it’s a scary thought. being all in. forever.”

your chest tightens. “so you do think it’s too much?”

“no,” he says, instantly. “i think it’s a lot. but it’s the right kind of lot.”

you blink.

“like… yeah, we’re twenty. maybe people think we’re insane for talking about the future already. but i want it all with you.”

you stay quiet, heart beating too fast.

“like, i want to get a flat together. a tiny one with shitty plumbing and a weird neighbor who always plays techno music at 2am. and i wanna argue over what rug to buy, and who used the last of the oat milk.”

you laugh, soft and surprised.

“and i want to marry you,” he adds, voice even softer now. “like—actually. one day. you in some pretty dress, me forgetting my vows halfway through because i’m too busy staring.”

you bury your face in his chest, and he just holds you tighter.

“and kids,” he mumbles into your hair. “not soon. but eventually. little versions of you running around? i mean, yeah. i’m doomed.”

you giggle, half-laugh, half-sob. “what if they look like you?”

“then they’ll be cute but annoyingly stubborn. like, can you imagine? a five-year-old me refusing to eat broccoli?”

you laugh again, and he tilts your chin up gently.

“you really see all that?” you ask.

he doesn’t hesitate. “i do.”

you don’t say anything—you just kiss him. long and slow and full of everything you can’t put into words yet. when you finally pull away, breathless and quiet, you whisper:

“i want all that too.”

he grins like he’s just won the lottery.

“good,” he says. “now we just have to survive your final exams and my next race weekend.”

“and the oat milk arguments.”

“especially the oat milk arguments.”

A/N: (alternate scenario of when he visits cuz i can’t help but write make out scenes with lando :p it’s my favourite 🤷‍♀️)

you don’t even make it past the front door.

he’s barely inside your dorm when you’re already on him—fingers in his hair, lips at his jaw, pulling him close like he might disappear again if you don’t.

“hi,” he mumbles between kisses, grinning like a fool. “missed you too, apparently.”

you just hum, mouth dragging down to his neck. “shut up.”

he laughs, hands on your waist, pulling you against him until there’s barely space to breathe. “you’ve got roommates—”

“they’re gone.”

“all of them?”

“do you care?”

he doesn’t answer. just presses you back against the door and kisses you properly. full and warm and a little desperate. it’s the kind of kiss that feels like a sigh of relief. like he’s been holding his breath for two weeks and finally let go.

your hands tug at the hem of his hoodie, slipping underneath to feel warm skin and familiar lines. his breath catches.

“this isn’t fair,” he murmurs against your lips. “you in this little top… i’m trying to be respectful here.”

you grin. “you’re failing.”

“miserably.”

you stumble backwards, dragging him toward your bed, laughing when he trips over your backpack. you land in a heap, tangled in sheets and limbs and breathless laughter, and he kisses you again, slower now.

“you know i’m obsessed with you, right?” he whispers, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your shoulder.

“yeah,” you breathe. “same.”

the rest of the world falls away. no noise, no schedules, no deadlines—just the soft hum of your dorm heater and the way his thumb rubs lazy circles into your hip.

just his lips, and your hands, and the space between kisses where you smile against each other’s mouths like idiots.

you don’t go further. you don’t need to.

it’s enough to kiss and kiss and kiss until you’re dizzy. until you forget what day it is. until your lips are sore and your hearts feel a little lighter.

just twenty and in love and not caring about anything else.

THE END :>

[81pastrys]

At a Loss

Summary— Lando loses his wife in a freak accident and Lila doesn’t understand where she went

Warnings— SAD ; death ; funeral ; car accident ; drunk driver ; hospital ; life support mentioned ; this is really sad ; Lila not understanding death

A/N— I will be apologizing here but I don’t expect forgiveness for this deranged piece…

Dad Lando List

Dividers @bernardsbendystraws @dollywons

No request, just my own deranged mind

It’s been nearly a year since his wife died suddenly. She was literally driving home from the grocery store, 5 minutes away from her house, when a drunk driver hit the drivers side of her car. Lila was with Lando at the house, a small grocery trip ended in a funeral. When his wife hadn’t come home for hours, he tried calling, texting, but nothing.

It was when a police officer knocked on his door with the information that she was in the hospital and not doing good that it all came hurdling down on him. He called her mum first and told her what he was told and they rushed to the hospital.

Their mums in the waiting room, Lando handed Lila to his mum as to not scare her from all the machines his wife was on. He held her hand as she took her last breath. Crying into her hand as the machines flatlined. He signed all the paperwork and got all her things that were still in tact.

He saw her car at the impound lot and broke down again. Her car mangled, the same car he bought her as an anniversary gift 3 years prior, the one she dreamed of having. Cisca had kept Lila the few days after, allowing Lando time to grieve and settle everything.

Him and Lila went to the funeral, front row, on display. Lila had no clue what was going on. The 2 year old confused on why everyone was crying and wearing the same color. She also wondered why there were so many beautiful flowers around a box.

Lando opted for a close casket funeral, for Lila’s sake. The picture of her mum on the big board didn’t help though. “Mama!” She said and pointed to it. Lando burst into tears again and Lila was confused.

The media went silent on Lando’s behalf while he took the next few races off. The drivers banding together to help him in anyway possible. Other drivers with daughters bringing them for play dates.

When racing resumed, Lando had no choice but to bring Lila along. It was hard at first, but she napped a lot. The other drivers bringing their daughters and wives when they could, allowing Lando to not have to worry.

Now during the break, she was inconsolable and Lando didn’t know why. Lila was screaming and crying, her tears nonstop flowing as Lando tried calming her down. She hiccuped from crying so hard and drenched her shirt with tears.

He took her shirt off and she was left in just a diaper. She didn’t want his touch, swatting him away while he kneeled. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He asked again, her crying drowning out what she kept yelling at him. She whined at him.

He was at a loss of why she was so upset, not letting him hold her and comfort the cries. “Mama!!” He finally understood her words and it pulled at his heart, now trying not to cry himself.

He hated how cruel the world was, taking his wife away so suddenly. Lila didn’t understand death, thinking her mum just left them. Lando hung his head and stood up. He didn’t know what to say or do anymore. She wants someone she can’t have.

He barely had time to grieve, taking care of Lila was his main priority and he didn’t want her to see him upset. It’s clear to him now that she didn’t have time to grieve either. Lila sat on the cold wooden floor, holding her pacifier as she screamed for her mum.

“I miss her too Lila.” He said to her. She paused crying and breathed in short breaths. He offered to hold her and she mocked his movement, also wanting to be held. He held her close to his chest as her tears were silently still falling. “Mama still loves you, sweetheart, she’s just not here to say it.” He whispered.

He looked up and tried to hold back the inevitable tears. His voice cracking as he cooed to Lila. “Mamas gone?” Lila asked, her little voice breaking Lando’s heart. He let the tears fall.

He had texted his mum in the middle of Lila’s screaming fit and she told him she was on her way. When the front door opened, the sight she saw was gut wrenching. Lando swaying an upset Lila while he himself was upset.

“My babies.” Cisca murmured. She wrapped her arms around them and told Lando how much of a good dad he was. “It’s not your fault baby, there was nothing else we could’ve done.” She cooed. He knew his wife’s death was not his fault, but it weighed on him as if it was.

“Mimi, where’s mama.” Lila sniffled. Cisca looked to Lila and back to Lando. Realizing why they were both upset, Lila wanted her mum and Lando couldn’t help her.

“Oh baby, mamas in a better place.” Cisca smiled, holding back her own tears. “How about we get you down for bed, yeah?” Lila nodded and Cisca took the little girl to bed. Lando sat down at his kitchen counter and cried.

… can I say that I kissed the brick before throwing it? Or cleaned the knife before stabbing? 😭

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @kallanfiona @itznotsophia @chertik-007vvv

[norrissm]

౨౿ BEHIND THE VISOR — LN4

lando norris x reader / est. relationship / library

syn. a compilation of moments of lando and his girlfriend during drive to survive season 7. none of the episodes are according to the actual dts season, i made em all up for the plot :)

[season 7 episode 1]

[scene: paddock walk, bahrain]

the cameras catch you walking beside lando, trying to keep up with his long strides. he’s mid-conversation with his engineer but still reaches back to grab your hand absentmindedly. “lando, mate, focus,” his engineer laughs.

“i am focused,” lando insists, barely sparing him a glance. “just also making sure she doesn’t get lost.” the editors cut to you rolling your eyes, but the mic picks up the way you mumble, “yeah, wouldn’t want to get left behind again.”

“one time!” lando groans, looking straight at the camera like it’s an episode of the office.

[episode 2]

[scene: pre-race grid, singapore]

the cameras catch you adjusting the collar of lando’s race suit while he stands still, arms at his sides. it’s a quick, quiet moment—one that’s almost drowned out by the chaos around you.

“you good?” you ask. lando nods but doesn’t let go of your wrist when you pull away. “yeah.”

the broadcast cuts to the starting grid, but fans later notice that just before he puts his helmet on, he taps the top of it twice—something he’s never done before.

[episode 3]

[scene: mclaren garage, monaco]

it’s been a tough quali for lando and he is slumped on the chair in the garage eyes lowered down and chest heaving from the heat in the cockpit. the camera shows you walking upto him and sitting down next to him, leaning forward to look at him in his eyes.

the camera catches you crouching beside him, peeling an orange for him.

lando only has enough energy to simply nod and jerk forward with a sigh at the pressure of the performance he has to put on tomorrow for a good result. the camera captures the quiet moment of unspoken support.

your hands coming behind him massaging his neck, lando leaning into the touch head thrown down. sometimes mumbling supportive words to him.

[episode 4]

[scene: paddock post race, silverstone]

lando won. lando had won the silverstone grand prix — his home race. the mclaren garage was a cacophony of screams and yells of happiness as the camera showed different montages of the shared joy.

it landed on you showing tears in your eyes and your folded hands covered your face, eyes bright staring at the screen looking at lando turn into his victory lap.

the camera stilled on you long enough to catch you send a prayer with your eyes closed and the biggest smile on your face. the next time you’re on screen it’s lando rushing towards you suit and helmet on, into your arms. you kiss his helmet and lando rubs your back.

twitter goes crazy when this clip drops.

[episode 5]

[scene: post-race debrief, japan]

it was a shitshow of a race. lando finished p9 after a last-lap battle that he should have won. the cameras catch the way he storms into the garage, jaw tight, hands curled into fists.

he yanks off his helmet and slams it onto the table. the crew gives him space, but you don’t. you’re already there, waiting, arms crossed.

“lando,” you say softly. “don’t,” he snaps, not looking at you.

the netflix mic catches the way you inhale sharply, but you don’t walk away. instead, you grab a towel and push it into his hands. “you need to breathe.” lando talks to you venting it out as the audio changes to background commentary— although his frustration was visible.

later, netflix editors choose not to include what he mutters next. “i just didn’t want to let you down.”

but lip-readers figure it out anyway.

[episode 6]

[scene: media pen, post-race, silverstone]

“lando, you had an incredible drive today. p1 at your home race! how are you feeling?”

lando, still a little breathless, grins at the sky before looking at the interviewer. “yeah, buzzing. car was mega, team did an amazing job. it’s just…” he trails off, looking past the camera.

the interviewer follows his gaze—to where you’re standing just outside the media pen, wearing one of his hoodies over your sundress, smiling at him. lando’s face softens, his whole demeanor shifting.

“yeah,” he says again, eyes still on you. “pretty good day.”

the internet loses its mind.

reblog and follow <3 all rights reserved to norrissm please do not copy, save or translate my works.